#bob fucks
Note
I feel like Bob would be really good at overstimulation because he's so patient. He'd have you naked and in tears, several orgasms deep before he even took his shirt off.
I'm going to pretend @attapullman sent this (but she'd never go nonny about Bob), because I wrote this little ficlet as a birthday treat in response to this sexy thought. Happy birthday, Morgan!
I Need a Minute (Bob Floyd x Reader)
contains smut, fingering, adult language, overstimulation and confident Bob
Your boyfriend was not someone to mess with. You knew that for a fact. Sure, he looked sweet and innocent in his wire rimmed glasses and unassuming shirts, but inside, he was a thinker. A planner. Someone who took all the time necessary to make a decision and formulate a plan. And in your case, he was currently working on exacting his revenge.
Anyone else would have a hard time reading it on his face, but you knew him well enough to notice the soft twitch of his lips and the subtle glances he was sending your way. It was your own fault for the way you teased him at the diner, sliding your hand up inch by inch beneath the napkin that was spread out on his lap until you got to the sweet spot. While you casually talked to all of his aviator friends, you stroked him slowly through his jeans. As you laughed with Mickey and Javy, you gave him a little squeeze just to hear his soft grunt.
When everyone started to stand up, Bob was blushing as he said, "I need a minute." And you left him high and dry, climbing out of the oversized booth and making a mad dash for Natasha's car while Bob tried to hide what you did to him.
As you traipsed across the sandy beach with everyone else, Bob finally reached for your free hand. "Why don't we spread our blanket out over here?" he asked, tugging you to a stop. "The fireworks would be starting up in just a few minutes," he added. "We should get settled in."
He seemed completely calm, so you shook out the beach blanket and curled up with him so you were sitting between his legs. "Are you comfy?" you asked him over your shoulder, and he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile.
"Very," he promised, and you turned to face the ocean just as the first red, green and orange fireworks lit up the sky. Even though you were wearing his Naval Academy sweatshirt over your sundress, you shivered as he whispered, "I'm about to be a lot more comfortable than you."
"What?" you gasped, realizing that everyone else was sitting in front of you. There was nobody watching as Bob gently pulled your legs further apart and kissed the side of your neck. Nobody noticed a damn thing when he tugged the fabric slowly up your legs and ran his thumb along your underwear, sending you scooting back against him. "What are you doing?" you whined softly, giving yourself away.
His fingers paused on the thin strip of cotton hiding your pussy from him. "Oh. You want this, huh?" When you nodded, dazed eyes focused on the fireworks, he kissed your earlobe. "You say that now."
One long finger slipped inside the elastic band of your underwear, and you gasped his name. Bob let his digit glide slowly up and down your slit while he made casually offhand comments like, "The green fireworks are my favorite. Did you know they are made out of barium salts?" Your only response was to moan a little louder, and he didn't stop you. The loud booming sounds blocked out your whines and breathy gasps as he slipped that finger inside you, lazily fucking you with it while his thumb found you clit.
He punctuated every thrust with a little swirl of his thumb, varying the speed as he went. You tried desperately to fuck yourself on that long finger, but he held you in place with his other hand. You were playing his little game now, and you knew it would be a little while before you came.
His lips worked at your neck until you could feel a bruise forming. His teeth grazed your skin softly when you started to hiccup. You found out the hard way that the city of San Diego put on a glamorous thirty minute fireworks display for holidays, and Bob teased you for twenty-eight of them. Your breathing was so loud as he pumped his hand beneath your dress and whispered, "You want to come, don't you? You want to soak my hand even more, huh?"
"Bob!" you begged loud enough that one of the others must have heard, but Bob just kept slowing his pace until you felt tears in your eyes. Your makeup was probably a mess. Sweat broke out on your brow. But he just slowed down until he was gently tapping your pussy with his fingers.
"Ask me really nicely."
"Please, Bob!" Your voice broke on the words as he rammed two fingers deep inside you and stroked your clit with his thumb. The grand finale of fireworks blasted across the sky as you finally came, eyes closed and back arched. You didn't care who saw you like this as long as you got the relief you needed.
He kissed that tender spot behind your ear and whispered, "You're lucky I'm so nice," as you rolled your hips against the heel of his hand. And then he was slipping it back out of your panties and tugging your dress into place as everyone around you started to collect their things. When he stood up and looked down at you, he smirked as you sprawled out on your back, your limbs completely boneless. "You ready to go?" he asked with his hands on his hips.
"I need a minute."
#if you ask emily#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd smut#bob fucks#bob x reader#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x you#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#top gun maverick imagine#robert bob floyd x reader
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd
Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.
Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.
Words: 4.8K
This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!
When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you.
“God, I wish that were me.”
It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it.
But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new.
It also brought up many questions.
Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you.
Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face.
All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp.
Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four.
Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner.
The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated.
“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”
“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.”
“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”
“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”
Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them.
At least that's what the other thought.
It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up.
“Been awhile?”
And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought.
“Try never.”
It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt.
“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest.
“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?”
You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied.
You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation.
“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you.
Darn those long limbs.
“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain.
“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.”
Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?”
College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people.
And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship.
Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else?
“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?”
Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different.
You rubbed your thighs together.
“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?”
Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee.
Have his hands always been so big and veiny?
Fuck, did you have a thing for hands?
“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?”
His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing.
Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point?
“You…like doing it?”
The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.”
It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work.
He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual.
“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.”
“You don't have to wait.”
The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking.
But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear.
You heard me.
“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational.
Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left.
“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body.
“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.”
All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo.
Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up.
The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching.
For what, you couldn't tell.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Do you want it to be different?”
What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?
“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back.
He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”
He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.
“I asked you second, Robby.”
Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe.
“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained.
It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special.
He was never that way with the other girls he dated.
“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter.
But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching.
Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut.
“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said.
Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were.
“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his.
It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild.
When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt.
“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.”
Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to.
It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable.
“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations.
“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips.
“God, you have terrible taste in men.”
You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were.
How could he do that so quickly?
He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight.
When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth.
Thank god your parents were on vacation.
His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off.
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch.
“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you.
“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet.
But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier.
“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.
He laughed. Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet.
Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it.
“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”
“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit.
His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out.
Good.
You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible.
God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled.
And he had just gotten started.
He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time.
But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away.
The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.
“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Robby.”
To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century.
Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving.
A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch.
Was he this thick elsewhere?
You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up.
Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible.
You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did.
But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it.
He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued. Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard.
Why did either of you wait this long?
You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth.
But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy.
When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out.
He really did enjoy it.
“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you.
Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.
Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release.
You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under.
His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time.
The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt.
“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours.
Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his.
Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.”
How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid?
Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick-
Jesus Christ, he was huge.
“Fuck, she was right.”
Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?”
“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once.
Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?”
“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform.
“I….we can unpack this later-”
You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?”
Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick.
Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful.
“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock.
Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek.
“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.”
Darlin. You were his darlin.
He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears.
Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy.
Even he didn't know when he would return home.
It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship.
“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern.
His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes.
“I don't want you to go.”
“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them.
“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you.
“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.”
Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his.
“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards.
“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.”
Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory.
Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him.
He was going to need it for the next few months.
Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere.
“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension.
The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask.
“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things.
Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to.
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.
“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed.
Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.”
Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-”
“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock.
Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was.
In hindsight, it was painfully obvious.
His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars.
You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls.
It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him.
“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.”
Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer.
“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd.
Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group.
But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus.
His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria.
That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it.
But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock.
“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?”
Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release.
Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his.
The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body.
His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go.
You’d be a damn fool to.
The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob.
After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?”
Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.”
You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?”
He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?”
“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter.
“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?”
The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple.
The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts.
“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?”
Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.
---------------------------------------------------------
@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky
#my writing#Bob Floyd#Robert Floyd#Robert Bob Floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#Bob fucks#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#Bob Floyd smut#bob floyd x y/n#bob floyd x female reader#top gun smut#top gun fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)
pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)
synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.
word count: 10.4k
warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.
A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!
You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone.
It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit.
But.
You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.
Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app.
Quickie During the Rodeo
After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]
Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do.
You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play.
Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones.
You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena.
There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you.
“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy.
“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.
You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer.
“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter.
“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering.
You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.
“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”
His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip.
Why did guys in real life never moan?
It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure.
“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”
Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low.
“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”
It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only.
His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you.
How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste?
You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy, acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin.
Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.
“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.”
Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his.
“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”
Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.
“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?”
You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper.
You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you.
“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”
You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.
“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper.
He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him.
“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?”
You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds.
Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.
Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you.
“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”
Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you.
Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly.
“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”
You wanted to be his good girl.
Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy.
“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?”
His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against.
“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”
Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.
A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded.
“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.”
You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect.
“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”
You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–
“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”
You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there.
“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow.
Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.
Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to.
Rhett was groaning softly in your ear.
“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”
The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set.
There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.
An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door.
“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”
You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.
“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”
“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.
You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time.
Some might even say, with a pep in your step.
“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed.
You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat.
The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly.
Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on.
You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing).
When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.
You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person.
Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets.
The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration.
The hours in the room flew by.
By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.
It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.
"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.
It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.
It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise.
It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.
It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago.
“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.”
Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock.
Bob was BullRiderRhett.
The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms.
(Yes, you had an annual subscription).
(Yes, you deserved it).
When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal.
In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.
How had you never noticed before??
Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?
You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot.
A knock on your door startled you.
“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically.
“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”
You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door.
“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??
Could’ve been worse, you mused.
You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.
“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it.
He looked the same.
The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you.
Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills.
His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them.
And now you were thinking about that.
“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral.
He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away.
“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”
“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”
It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse.
So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room.
You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced.
“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t.
He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room.
“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.
You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again.
You had to say it.
You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it.
You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep.
“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react.
He didn’t, not really.
He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation.
“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.
“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.
“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”
You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”
Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”
And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?
“What?” you managed again.
Bob looked at you.
It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you.
He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly.
It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him.
Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”
It was still Bob.
But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway.
Of course he did.
He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately.
Objectively, Bob was the best.
You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you.
“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.
That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you.
He pushed himself off the bed.
He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either.
Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.
“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”
“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”
It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay.
He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it.
“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question.
Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break.
You kissed him.
You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer.
He was so soft.
The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him.
You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.
You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention.
“Can I show you?” you asked.
He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.
“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry.
His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely.
It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous.
This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him.
You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard.
You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.
It was ridiculous that you were already turned on.
You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze.
You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently.
“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.
You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.
“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you.
“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”
Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually.
And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked.
You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob.
“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”
It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.
“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered.
The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them.
“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”
It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett.
“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.
“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”
You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard.
It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.
“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”
You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him.
“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need.
“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”
You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch.
“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission.
You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations.
“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”
Were you whimpering?
You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing.
“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”
You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing.
“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”
You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it.
“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric.
“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”
A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob.
You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again.
“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob.
“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering.
“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.
“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”
Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob.
When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking.
“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did.
He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled.
You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him.
“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.”
He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him.
It was better with him.
His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing.
“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”
He sounded so good.
His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there.
You felt like you were floating.
Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him.
“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“
You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.
“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.
He was like sunshine, wasn’t he?
Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life.
You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”
Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right.
“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”
When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips.
You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you.
He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself.
The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner.
His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin.
Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin.
“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned.
“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.”
Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had.
“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless.
“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”
His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered.
He wasn’t done, either.
“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…”
Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses.
He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.
This sweet man.
He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace.
You loved the feeling of his skin.
He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you.
Fuck.
You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders.
“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric.
“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”
He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself.
While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him.
He found the condom.
You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick.
Holy. Shit.
He looked like a work of art.
A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big.
“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.
You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.
“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”
Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl.
“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky.
And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat.
“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”
At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it.
“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact.
“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you.
“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him.
You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them.
“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”
You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking.
You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster.
“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much.
He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly.
“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot.
“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”
You broke off when he pushed into you.
A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more.
Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn.
Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect.
Fuck, he felt so good.
You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon.
Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked.
You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.
“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”
“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”
Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.
“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”
You couldn’t do anything.
You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop.
“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.
“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”
You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”
Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??
The sounds in the room were dizzying.
Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core.
He knew, somehow.
The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher.
“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising.
“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…”
He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him.
“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”
You moaned as his words coaxed you back.
He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop.
“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant.
Bob’s hips stuttered.
You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him.
“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”
You rolled your hips.
Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you.
It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you.
Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips.
“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”
You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher.
And then.
And then he got close.
He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you.
You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it.
When you came back, you were on your side.
You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.
“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction.
“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.”
Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”
You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.
You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.
//
tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover
chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙
#bob fucks#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd#misskielwrites#International Bob Floyd Fucks Month
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
supernova
synopsis: in a game of truth or dare, you reveal your dream threesome.
pairings: natasha trace x fem!reader x bob floyd
warnings: 18+ minors dni, ageless blogs that interact will be blocked, explicit smut (f/f/m threesome, oral sex, unprotected sex, blink and miss it choking, sort of dom phoenix, edging, cum eating, orgasm denial, overstimulation) and like, swearing lmao (wc: 3.2K)
notes: a little something something for my fellow bisexuals during pride month 🌈 and yes, i defeated awful writer's block with horniness and so can you 💖
much love to @sushiwriterhere @theharddeck @sometimesanalice and @roosterbruiser for letting me bounce many depraved thoughts off of them and i'm summoning a few people who might be interested: @princessphilly @seresinsweetie @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @bradshawsbitch @i-wanna-be-your-muse @sebsxphia and also no one look at me
“Anyone would want to sleep with me. I’m the most fuckable person in this room. Ask anyone.”
"What's Hangman so up in arms about now?" Phoenix asks, sounding unimpressed. She leans against the pool cue, waiting for Fanboy to make his shot, and cracks her knuckles with one hand.
You shrug. "Who knows."
Honestly, you can't even remember who made the comment that got him so worked up, so defensive over his own sex appeal. His general fuckability – which as a side note, you're pretty sure is not a real word.
Maybe Rooster, actually probably Rooster.
Regardless, Hangman has decided to make them all suffer the consequences, going on and on and on.
"Fine," Rooster manages, choking down a laugh, almost always given away in the unmistakable twitching of the overgrown ferret on his upper lip. "Go ahead. Ask anyone then, Hangman. This will be good."
You are minding your own goddamn business in the corner of the common room, sipping a canned red wine that isn't half bad for the price. It is sweet, a little bubbly, pleasant.
You press your lips against the cool edge and are in the middle of a sip when Hangman catches your eye, a sharklike gleam in his green eyes.
Is it worse to make eye contact or break it? Is that bears or sharks who see it as a challenge?
And in truth, Hangman is neither. He's more or less harmless with a sometimes sharp bite.
You lower the can, slow and suspicious, narrowing your eyes at him with a raised brow. “Can I help you, Hangman?”
Smirking, Hangman drawls, “You owe me a truth from earlier, ain't that right? You ran out on the game before I could get my question out."
You roll out a red carpet of curses in your brain and swallow another mouthful of the sweet red wine.
You'd gotten a call from the Domino's driver to come down and grab the pizzas from the front door before Hangman could ask whatever pointed – and alarmingly observant – question had popped into his scheming brain.
Everyone else has forgotten the game with some pizza in their stomach and a basketball game on the big screen, but clearly, Hangman has a good memory. Bastard.
"Fine. Hit me with your best shot, Hangman."
Fire away and all that.
His canines are gleaming white. "Who would you most want to have sex with in this room? No, wait, I should give everyone a fair chance of selection. Pick two."
"Together? Or separate?"
His brows raise, and Hangman's smirk deepens. "Well, damn. Someone's a little adventurous." Your eyes are practically slits now, staring him down. "Together. Who would you have a threesome with in this room? And unfortunately, no, I don't have a twin."
“My nightmare,” Phoenix mutters, and Fanboy shakes with silent laughter.
“Hmmm…”
An answer had popped into your head the second that Hangman asked, but in the name of suspense, you pretend to mull it over and really contemplate.
You look around the room. Halo and Fritz are on the sagging couch with Yale and Harvard in the opposite chairs, watching the game too closely to overhear this cursed conversation.
Bob and Fanboy are strategizing in the corner, but Bob is definitely listening. His shoulders don't look quite natural.
Across the pool table, Payback shows you his wedding band with a faux scolding expression. You grin.
“I guess I'd have to pick... Phoenix and Bob."
Rooster absolutely crows with laughter as Hangman goes into a full control-alt-delete shut down and reboot, blankly staring at you with disbelieving eyes and a slack jaw.
Someone should commemorate this moment. Add it to one of the frames in the Ready Room.
"Are you malfunctioning?" You drain the rest of the wine and drop the can into the nearest recycling bin. "You know I'm bisexual, right, Hangman?"
"But Phoenix and Bob?" Hangman splutters, as if recovering from an ordeal with a capital O. "I need the reason. Why would you pick them?"
You glance over at Phoenix, who is regarding both of them with a smug smirk. You don't dare look at Bob right now.
You smile, radiant and knowing, with a “Follow up questions aren’t part of the game, Hangman,” and breeze across the room for another can of wine, patting him on the shoulder.
"So..."
Five or so minutes later, Phoenix sidles up to you and sits on the arm of your chair, ignoring the perfectly good and empty chair in the corner. Her boot brushes against your leg.
She leans in, and Phoenix's familiar vanilla and amber scent washes over you.
"Am I allowed to ask a follow question?" A nod, and Phoenix looks kind of self-satisfied. Kind of smug. "Did you mean it? Or were you just kicking the chair out from under Hangman? Because..." She lowers her voice, all smoke and velvet. "I had fun with you before. Just us."
"Both..." You pause. "I kind of wanted to knock him on his ass, but also, I was very much serious."
Her smile widens, and Phoenix leans in more, brushing the shell of your ear in a puff of warm breath. "Meet me in my room in 20 minutes."
Her canine grazes your earlobe for a brief second.
You blink, dazed, and Phoenix is already walking away.
"What about...?"
What about Bob? is the question on the tip of your tongue, but obviously, you can't call that out in this room. He is still here somewhere.
She looks over her shoulder, dark eyes warm with want and promise, and mouths, "20," with a wink.
A little over 20 minutes later, Phoenix has your wrists pinned down on her soft sheets, nudging under your chin with her slender nose in search of the sensitive spot on the side of your neck.
Her bottom lip drags against it.
You bite down on a moan, and in retaliation, Phoenix bites the spot harder.
"I want to hear you," Phoenix murmurs, an order wrapped in a pretty bow. "You sound so pretty, angel."
She kisses you again and sucks your bottom lip between hers, making it impossible to bite down on.
And with intent, Phoenix slides a smooth thigh between your legs, dragging her knee against the red flash of fabric that covers your cunt and grinds down.
"Come on. Let me hear you."
A drawn out moan escapes your mouth, and right then, Bob walks in.
He closes the door behind him, oblivious, and then, spots you both and freezes.
"Phoenix?" Bob manages, sounding uncertain. His eyes are wide and blue behind the wire frames. "You said 30 minutes, right? Should I – I can come back. We can catch up another time."
Despite the words, Bob doesn't move. He looks down, cheeks pink and flushed, but doesn't move.
"Don't worry, Bob." Phoenix releases your arms and climbs over the edge of the mattress with a smile. Walks over to him in an electric blue bra and underwear set that looks downright radiant against her dark hair.
She looks like a goddess.
"You want him here, don't you, angel?"
She circles behind him, sliding the plaid button-down shirt from his broad shoulders. It crumples to the carpet without resistance as Bob raises his chin and meets your eyes.
"You told me before," Phoenix prompts. "Tell him."
He is watching you, waiting on your answer with bated breath.
A long breath releases from your mouth.
You push up on your elbows, then your knees, wanting to see him more clearly.
“Earlier with Hangman… I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted both of you. I want you – both of you – to fuck me."
His Adam’s apple moves as Bob swallows, sudden and hard.
He looks surprised. He shouldn't be.
He's always felt a little out of reach, so damn nice. You didn’t want to freak him out – or worse, offend him with a casual invitation to very casually fuck your brains out and maybe, let you suck his cock before or afterward.
You’re not picky. Whatever works for him.
You were pretty sure Bob was at least a little interested, but now... Bob only stares.
Phoenix gives him a gentle push and strolls over to the record player. She looks casual and languid, flipping through the records, but you're not so fooled. She's giving him a moment alone with you.
"Phoenix and I have... before, but I want you as much as I want her. Do you want me? is the only question, I guess."
He coughs into his elbow, messing with his lenses, which are fogging every so slightly. "I do. You're very pretty and nice, and I've... I mean, I do want you."
A smile dimples your cheek. "Oh, I'm pretty and nice, am I?"
"Shut up," Bob mutters under his breath with a slight smile. His ears are a little red.
You reach out and pull him closer to the mattress, pulling until Bob has to plant a knee on the edge to keep his balance. He watches you with wide eyes and says your name in a rush of breath – like a sharp wind over the ocean – and leans in, gravitating.
He cups your chin, slow and careful, pulling you in for a slow kiss that fizzles in your bloodstream like champagne. He is still giving you ample time to pull back and change your mind.
You deepen the kiss, even as Bob holds back.
You're still not sure Bob believes you.
Music swells from the corner, slow and sultry and sensual, as Phoenix settles behind you. She unlatches your bra and pushes it from your shoulders, running her fingers in soothing circles over the muscles.
She reaches between you and him, moving to cup your breasts, but at the last second, Phoenix skims her hand down the curve of your stomach and down and down, dipping under the waistband of your panties.
Clever fingers glide through your wetness, glancing off your clit in a tease that makes you whimper into Bob's mouth. A satisfied hum vibrates your back.
"So wet already, darling. We haven't done anything other than kiss you. You must really want us," Phoenix murmurs, warm against your ear, licking the sensitive patch of your neck again. "Come here, Bob."
She pulls you back from him with a hand around your throat – squeezing once, hard enough to make you feel light all over – and puts her glistening fingers in his open mouth.
His moan makes you even wetter.
You watch, breathless, as Bob closes his eyes and licks your taste from her fingers. His pupils are blown, eyes almost black, when Bob opens his eyes again.
His groan against your mouth is a rough sound, drawn out and unrepentant. He kisses you like religion, like a prayer.
Phoenix's voice is smug in your ear. "He believes me now."
You've been paired with Bob and Phoenix on enough exercises to know that the Naval aviators are an unstoppable pair in the air, cutting through the skies with grace and precision.
You'd imagined – more than once – that Bob and Phoenix would be an unstoppable pair in the bedroom as well. Sue you, okay? Who wouldn't?
Phoenix had been a force on her own, pinning you down and making your thighs shake over her shoulders; coaxing you to the edge and kicking you over without warning with a razor sharp smile that bordered on mean.
Bob always seemed so quiet. Seemed so unassuming.
But Bob dated, and on the one and only occasion the WSO brought a date back to the shared apartment complex, all of the Daggers had heard about the dying cat sounds that'd been loud enough to bleed through the walls. Hangman had been relentless.
You were seemingly the only one who could put the admittedly horrendous moaning aside and remember the other sounds.
(Oh, oh, Bob, oh, Bob. Fuck me. So good.)
You knew Phoenix was good in bed.
You had a feeling about Bob.
Together?
You were absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt right.
Phoenix is in the backseat for once but never ever on the sidelines. She seems to sense that the WSO might still need more reassurance, might need some control to feel wanted here.
She focuses on you, nibbling your neck and pinching your aching nipples, as Bob rests on the red and orange pillows, watching you swallow his cock, mesmerized.
You pull back, keeping him half in your mouth and circling his base with your hands, and run your tongue along the sensitive underside of him.
He bobs in your mouth, letting out a rough curse.
"Are you sure?" Bob had asked before, stilling the hands that were reaching for his zipper, running a thumb across the veins at the base of your wrist. "We can start with something else. I don't want you to feel pressure."
"Positive. I've wanted to suck your cock for about six months now."
He blinked, looking even more owlish with his glasses on the nightstand. "Six months? You've only been here for like six months."
You cut in, "And I wanted to suck your cock the whole damn time. Any other questions?"
He audibly swallowed, and Phoenix grinned.
You could easily get lost in him – lose minutes, even hours with the weight of him on your tongue and the sound of his broken moans in your ears – but Phoenix is too impatient to let that happen.
She nudges your soaked underwear to the side and pushes one, two, three of her fingers inside of you. You're wet enough that Phoenix doesn't meet any resistance.
"She's so fucking wet for you, Bob. Jesus Christ," Phoenix moans. A wet kiss is pressed into the curve of your shoulder, against the nape of your neck. "Should I make her come?"
God... and Phoenix says it like, What do you think, Bob? Am I clear? Should I take the shot?, in the same voice from the air. Asking him to weigh the pros and cons. Deferring to his decision.
You'll never be able to be paired with them on a drill again and not remember.
You would breathe a sigh of relief when Bob nods, except for... well, obvious reasons. You swallow around him, and Bob leaks against the back of your throat.
You're already aching, and Phoenix is pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. Pleasure is building in the pit of your stomach, and you need, you need, you –
"Or..." Phoenix drawls, easing up on the pressure, all casual and unaffected. She works you open, steady and constant, pinching the thigh that tries to rock you against her hand. "I could edge her for you. Make her wait to come on your cock."
God, Phoenix can be mean in bed. You'd almost forgotten.
You kind of hate her for it right now.
(You really don't.)
You whimper around Bob's cock and clench around Phoenix's fingers at the same time, digging your nails into the pale skin of Bob's muscular thighs, already bruised with a small love bite from earlier.
An abrupt fuck spills from Bob's bitten lips.
He pulls out of your mouth without warning, squeezing a hand around his base and screwing his eyes closed to keep from coming right then and there.
"Jesus Christ, Phoenix."
"So Bob seems to like that idea," Phoenix observes, almost conspiratorially. Her fingers catch your chin. "What about you, pretty girl? You want to come now or on Bob's cock?"
You are a little out of breath but no less certain.
"Do I even have to answer that?"
As a reward, Phoenix slips her tongue in your mouth and starts all over again, ever careful to pull back at the exact right moment when your breaths are short and your gaze is glassy and unfocused.
You are shaking and warm all over when Phoenix is satisfied, running her fingers through the arousal that slicks the inside of your thighs, underwear long discarded on the floor somewhere now.
"Can I..."
You are on your back now, and Bob leans over and sucks your nipples in his mouth. You lose focus, running your fingers over the hard length of him, smearing his pre-cum over the head.
"Can you what?" Phoenix prompts, ghosting a knuckle over your swollen clit. You quiver.
"I want to eat you out. Didn't get to do that last time, remember?"
You seize Bob's shoulder, keeping him pressed against your chest, and Bob makes a pleased sound, content to lavish your breasts with licks and nibbles right now.
You continue, "I want to eat you out while Bob fucks me."
"Well," Phoenix replies, breezily, brushing her hair over her shoulder and bends to suck on your other nipple. "We can probably make that work."
"Fuck," Bob breathes again.
You've never heard him curse so much, not even in actual missions.
A content sigh pushes everything else from your brain.
You lick at Phoenix again, licking a stripe up the center of her cunt, drowning in the warmth and silk, as Bob pushes into you from behind, bare and hard and so goddamn big.
Fuck is right.
"God..." Bob moans against your damp skin, pulling out and easing back in again. His accent comes out in bits and pieces, smoothing the edges from his words. "Feel so good. S'good for me. So good for us, darlin'."
You melt at the praise and nuzzle deeper into Phoenix with a sigh of pleasure, circling her clit with a content hum that makes her breath go all uneven and shuddering.
Satisfaction slides down your spine, warm and consuming.
You could stay here for hours between them. You would.
She's quick to instruct and correct, but once you're in a rhythm with your fingers hooked inside, Phoenix is nothing but moans and sighs and oh god, so good, oh god.
She comes in your mouth with a sharp gasp and rolls out from under you, which leaves Bob with enough room to double his efforts now.
He presses praise against your neck, circling his fingers around your clit with precision and attention; urging you to come for him with gentle pleas and deep thrusts and blissfully, a well-placed palm against your aching cunt.
You shatter around him as Bob spills inside of you.
Oh my god are the only words that are forming in your head right now. You want to say something else.
Holy shit maybe.
We should definitely do that again even.
But Phoenix doesn't give you even a second of peace.
"You're a mess, angel," Phoenix comments, light and almost mocking. She spreads your legs wide and looks you over. "Let me."
You expect Phoenix to wipe you down, but instead, Natasha presses her mouth against your sensitive cunt.
Stars erupt in your vision. Galaxies.
She licks and licks every inch of you, holding down your shaking legs, until you come again, damn near crying from the overstimulation, shuddering.
Wetness dampens the sheets underneath you, and Phoenix licks the cum that drips down your legs, some yours, some Bob's, and kisses you right on the mouth.
You definitely mean to get your clothes and pee and everything after, but Bob is warm against your side. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and passes out with an arm across your chest.
Sleep pulls you under soon after.
Phoenix is the first one to leave the bed and even then, only to put on a quieter record and go right back.
note: is she the filthiest smut piece i've ever written? maybe. she's named after red wine supernova by chappell roan, which is so fun and so queer and worth a listen 💖 leave a comment before i regain an ounce of shame.
#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert floyd smut#bob floyd smut#phoenix x reader#natasha trace x reader#natasha trace x you#natasha trace smut#natasha trace fic#bob floyd x reader x natasha trace#laracrofted writes#bob fucks#fic: bob floyd#fic: natasha trace
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pattern Breaker
Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (afab)
Category: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love
Summary: A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.
Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral (pussy eating king), vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, handjob, kissing, groping, scratching/marking, Bob fucks, love confessions, fluff, talks of bad dates, reader described as having hair and being shorter than Bob (but nothing else), swearing/cursing - let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 7.1k (it kinda ran away from me)
A/N: My humble contribution to the Bob Fucks Agenda 🫡
Consider buying me a coffee :)
Bob Floyd was head over heels in love with you.
Yet he had no idea what series of mistakes had landed him here. In the Hard Deck. With you. Sat next to him. In a tight booth. Your thigh pressed up against his. Tracing patterns with the tip of your finger on the back of his hand. Many would argue that this didn't seem like a bad thing. Why would something so intimate with someone he was in love with be a mistake? Well, the issue was that you were doing it in a totally platonic way.
You were doing it mindlessly too, as you engaged in idle conversation with Phoenix opposite you, which almost made it worse. Bob Floyd's brain was whirring at a million miles per second over something you were doing without even thinking about it. It took every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from moving. Closer to you or further away, he didn't know. But he tried to stay still. So very still. Just so you'd keep doing it.
He was also desperately trying to pay attention to the story you were telling Phoenix, about the latest bad first date you'd been on. It appeared to be a regular thing with you. A string of first dates where you knew before you'd even ordered the entrées that they wouldn't be the right guy for you. And you always had valid reasons, at least in Bob's opinion.
"He told me he doesn't like sunsets." You groaned. "Like, who doesn't like sunsets?"
Bob personally loved sunsets.
Phoenix frowned at you. "Did he give a reason why?"
Bob imagined that Phoenix was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, she was the one who'd set you up with this guy. But he was thankful for it. He didn't know what he'd do with himself when you finally managed to find the right guy and it wasn't him.
"Something about the day ending and having a mindset about being on the grind I think, I don't know." You sighed, pausing your finger's movement against the back of Bob's hand for a moment before carrying on. He almost had a heart attack when you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and started leaning against him as well.
"Sorry it didn't work out. I can find you another guy maybe, umm..." Phoenix trailed off with a thoughtful hum.
But you waved her off. "No, it's okay. I think I'm done with blind dates for now."
Bob's head snapped towards you. Oh?
"If you're sure." Phoenix started to rise from the table, pressing her hands into the wooded surface. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you two tomorrow."
"Goodnight, see you tomorrow." You smiled at her, nudging Bob with your elbow when he stayed silent.
He flinched away from you. "Ow! What? Oh. Yeah, goodnight."
Phoenix's eyes flicked between the two of you, an amused huff leaving her mouth before she gave you both a mock salute and left the bar.
There was a silence between the two of you for a moment as you relaxed against Bob's shoulder a little more.
"What about you? Ready to call it a night?" You asked, turning to rest your chin on his bicep so you could look up at his face.
He glanced at you briefly, turning away again when he realised how close your faces were in that position and cleared his throat. "No, I'm good here for a little longer. If you are?"
You nodded and sat up, extracting yourself from his touch completely. Bob almost sobbed at the loss of contact.
"Yeah, I'm good." You paused to take him in, how he wasn't looking directly at you. He did that sometimes. You always figured he was just a little awkward about eye contact. Which was a shame considering his eyes were your favourite shade of blue.
Bob did flicker his eyes towards you then, wondering why you were staring at him silently. "Are you okay?"
You shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."
"Yeah?" He turned to face you properly, knees angled towards you to show that you had his full attention. "What about?"
You looked at him for a few seconds too long, enough to make him anxious and you think that maybe you'd given something away with your eyes. "You know how when we met we just clicked?"
Bob was surprised at that question. But he knew exactly what you meant. So he nodded. "Yeah."
You scrunched your nose and looked away from him for a second. "Well, I'm not clicking with any of these guys I'm going on blind dates with."
He knew that, you’d said as much. So he really didn't know where you were going with this. "Okay...”
"I just wish it was as easy as it was with you. Like we just work together so perfectly, I don't even feel like I'm trying with you."
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking sideways at you. "Uh-"
Your eyes widened and you were quick to clarify, hands held up in apology. "And not like I don't put any effort into it with you but just like I don't feel as if I'm constantly trying to make it work, y'know?"
He nodded again. "Sure."
You sighed frustratedly. "Do you get what I'm trying to say here, Bob?"
"Not really." He shook his head and gave a weak, apologetic smile.
You chuckled. "I'm trying to say that I've never clicked with a guy like I have with you."
"Right." He straightened up.
"But we're just friends." You said slowly.
He hesitated. "Mhm."
You squinted at him. "To cut it short I'm trying to say that I think I'm in love with you."
Bob could have fallen out of his seat.
"Oh!"
Now, that caught him really off guard.
"Well, I'm trying to figure out my feelings for you. Because they're certainly more than friendly!" You laughed quietly. "Which isn't really fair. To me or to you. But it's gotta be done because I'm sick of not clicking with men and being on dates where I'm just constantly thinking of how much easier it would be if I were sat across from you instead."
Bob ignored most of your rambling, fixating on one little statement. "Why's it not fair?"
Your face crumpled momentarily. "It's going to make it awkward for you if I am in fact in love with you. And it's unfair for me because I might be in love with a guy who only views me platonically."
Bob looked at you for a moment, eyes wide and almost pleading, and uttered your name softly.
You frowned. "What?"
He gave you a meaningful look.
"You do view me platonically, right?" You leant backwards. "Right?"
He glanced away from you before looking back, giving a short and sharp shake of his head. No.
The world shook around you.
"But- but you never made a move. I thought that you..." You trailed off into distressed thought.
"Oh, I made moves. Just not very obvious ones apparently." He cleared his throat with a quick cough, scrunching his face momentarily in embarrassment.
"Why did you never just say?"
"I guessed that you weren't interested since you never seemed to reciprocate my- my moves." He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed at the thought of his moves.
"But I'm all over you!" You exclaimed. "I'm so touchy!"
He froze and turned to you stiffly. "I thought you were just like that. With everyone!"
"Have you ever seen me touch another human being half as much as I touch you?" You said monotonously.
"Well..." He thought about it. He hadn't. You gave hugs, sure. But you certainly didn't stand with your head resting on anyone's shoulder, arms wrapped around their bicep like you did with him. You didn't sit next to anyone, legs resting over their thighs, like you did with him. You definitely didn't trace patterns on the back of anyone's hand like you had been with him earlier.
You let him think about it for a few moments before interrupting his thoughts. "You didn't answer my question. Why didn't you just say?"
Bob looked deep into your eyes, recognising the look of regret he could feel within himself. "By the time I had the courage to... the friendship was already solidified. And I thought it would ruin it."
"Oh, Bob." You smiled widely at him. "You should've said something. I had a huge crush on you when we first met."
Have a huge crush. Have.
He perked up slightly. "You did?"
No. Do.
"Yeah! I buried it after a while because I figured you weren't interested. And now I'm realising that I'm probably in love with you anyway." You found it almost funny how the two of you seemed to be in the exact same situation and yet had no idea how the other was feeling.
He decided to be honest. "It would certainly brighten my day if you were."
You had a thought suddenly. "Walk me home?"
Bob felt a sense of whiplash from the rapid change in topic. But didn't question it. "O-okay."
You grinned at him and motioned for him to get up, following him out of the booth and grabbing his hand once you were stood next to him. Not having to worry about closing out a tab with Penny since you'd been paying for drinks each time you ordered, you didn't hesitate in dragging him behind you out the back door of the Hard Deck and onto the beach.
You took a glimpse at Bob next to you, finding him already watching you. "Figured we could do the moonlit beach walk on the way back to my place."
He just nodded, not missing the way you were still grasping onto his hand as the two of you started walking in the direction of your home. The moonlight beach walk wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. You'd done it countless times before, in fact. It was just a nice thing to do that happened to involve some nice views that you both enjoyed. It just felt different this time, Bob thought to himself.
He had to ask. "Your last blind date, did he really not like sunsets?"
You looked at him, delighted by the seemingly random question. "Yeah. How off-putting is that?!"
"Very." Bob mumbled. "Y'know... I really like sunsets."
Ah, you saw what he was getting at.
"I know." You chirped. "I'll never forget the sunset on the day we met when you explained that the reason they're so colourful is because of the way the light scatters through the atmosphere. It was very purple that night."
His eyebrows shot up. He'd forgotten he'd told you that. But you were right. It had been very purple. He'd watched you take about thirty photographs of the sky. And knew then that he was in trouble.
The rest of the walk back to your place was quiet, a few passing comments made between the two of you as you pointed out a cute dog and Bob showed you where new flowers were beginning to blossom on a tree you regularly saw. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole time, swinging gently between your bodies.
It was easy. Just how it should be.
Silence shrouded the two of you as you approached your front door, wondering what was supposed to come next. Bob was still hung up on your sudden abandonment of your conversation back at the Hard Deck as you stopped at your door. Why had you dropped it?
The question escaped him as you suddenly tugged him a lot closer, so your chests almost touched, and lowered your voice.
"Come inside."
It wasn't proposed as a question, or even a request, but as more of a statement. Like you were telling him that he should follow you into your home to find out what happens next. Because of this, Bob could only reply with one thing.
"Okay."
There was no turning back now.
You beamed at him and rushed to unlock your door, flicking on a light switch once it was open and ushering him in behind you. Bob had been to your place countless times before, even crashed on your couch once or twice after nights there had run a little too long, but this time felt different. Just like the walk on the beach had.
He supposed it was because of what the two of you confessed earlier that night. But he still couldn't shake the thoughts about the fact that the conversation hadn't carried on to a point where he knew what was going to happen next between the two of you. Bob wanted answers. And he guessed that they were hidden in the depths of your home.
You guided him to your kitchen, offered him a drink which he politely declined, and stopped suddenly in the middle of the room to turn on your heel and look at him.
"Do you know why I asked you back here?"
He stilled a few paces in front of you. "Honestly? No."
You smiled at that. "Because I decided that I am."
Bob was even more confused. "Am what?"
You barked out a laugh like you suddenly realised you'd left out half of your sentence and that what you'd said had made no coherent sense. "In love with you. Absolutely head over heels. One hundred per cent.”
He said nothing in reply, sensing that you had more you wanted to say. He was right.
"And I wanted to be able to explore that possibility for us without prying eyes. In the privacy of my home." You huffed, slightly frustrated. Bob took a single step towards you. "I don't- I don't know how to say this."
He closed the gap, hands resting on your arms to reassure you. You'd never struggled to tell him anything and he certainly didn't want that to start now. "It's me. You can say anything to me. You know that. It's okay."
When you met his gaze again, your eyes were slightly glassy with tears. But you blinked them away. They were angry tears at yourself for taking this long to get to this point with him. It should've happened so much sooner.
Your eyes flickered to his lips. Bob knew what that meant, he was feeling it himself, but wanted you to say it.
Letting out a slightly shaky laugh, you composed yourself. "You might need to let me spiral and talk for a minute."
He smiled softly, surprised he wasn't doing his own spiralling and talking in this situation. "That's okay."
You nodded and sighed. "Okay, so. I don't want things to change between us. Well, I do. But, like, not everything. I still want us to be us. I still want to be able to tell you everything and have easy conversations and just go for walks on the beach and talk about meaningless things and have you explain stuff to me that you think I'll find interesting and sit close to each other just because we can not because we have to."
You stopped for breath and Bob felt like he was having to restrain his heart from bursting out of his chest.
"We'll still just be me and you and things will be easy between us. Like they always have been. But now... instead of sleeping on my couch after late nights, you'll- you'll sleep in my bed. And we'll kiss and, god, have a lot of sex I hope."
Bob chuckled at that and you joined him, happy to see that he wasn't freaking out at everything you were saying.
"We'll still be me and you but just... evolved. Right?"
Bob had started the evening knowing he was head over heels in love with you. He couldn't believe the night was ending with that love somehow growing even more, combining with yours to create some force that defied the laws of nature. The room was practically swimming in it, he could feel it prickling at the surface of his skin and taste it on the top of his tongue.
He nodded firmly at you. "Me and you but evolved."
You visibly relaxed under his hands and smiled giddily up at him. "Great, can you kiss me now?"
You didn't have to ask Bob twice.
The kiss started off sweet, almost innocent. A few, slightly open mouthed, pecks as the two of you giggled against each other. It was something new for the two of you. So even thought it felt right, it was still new territory to explore. But it didn't take long for it to take a turn. As soon as you opened your mouth fully to lick gently against Bob's lips, it was like something in him snapped.
An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you flush against him, chest to chest, and his other hand tangled in the back of your hair. His nose crammed into your cheek, his glasses falling slightly askew, as he licked into your mouth hotly with his head angled down to meet you halfway.
Your head whirled with the thought that he was good at this. Bob Floyd was an extraordinarily good kisser. Why hadn't you done this sooner?
You let out soft moans to encourage him despite him not even seeming shy about the idea anymore. In fact, Bob had no sense of restraint left in him. He'd waited so long for this, for you. And now he was lost in the feeling of your skin against his and the sounds you were making in reply to what he was doing. Which is why he let his hands drift across you more, not anchoring his touch to any specific place.
You felt like you were on fire, no time to breathe as breaks for oxygen were mere fractions of a second long. You'd never imagined him being capable of making you feel like this so quickly. Your lower abdomen burning with desire and your panties already practically soaked through. And he hadn't even touched you intimately yet. You could only hope that you were having half the same effect on him.
Bob's hands lowered themselves slowly, tracing along your ribcage, circling your waist, gripping at your hips, before he tentatively let them rest on your ass. You hummed in motivating appreciation and pushed yourself up even more to kiss him impossibly harder. He took that as a good sign, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them and rocking your pelvis towards his. Where you found that he was hard.
A noise rumbled in your chest, leaking out as a high pitched whine directly into his mouth.
Bob pulled away with a slight look of concern in his eyes which now held almost no trace of the blue shade you'd come to adore, pupils blown wide enough to engulf his irises. "Is this too much? We can slow down."
You shook your head, slowing down being the last thing you wanted. "No, I'm just surprised that you're so... handsy. I always thought you were a gentleman."
"Oh." He blushed a deep red, the colour reaching the tips of his ears. "I'm just eager, I guess. We can wait. I mean, I can wait. If it's too much."
You leaned back in closer to him, lips brushing across his. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"
He did.
Somehow the second round of kissing was even more searing, almost consuming, than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand gripping tightly onto his hair and tugging occasionally. Bob didn't let up squeezing at your ass after he'd realised that the sound you'd made previously was one of pleasure and not pain, rocking your hips into his a couple times more for good measure.
When his lips moved to trail a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, your eyes practically rolled back into your head. This was too good to be true. You were stood in your kitchen, at almost midnight, and Bob was sucking a hickey into your neck. How was this even real?
You realised that if you didn't move soon then the two of you were going to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. And whilst you weren't totally against the idea, you figured you should at least offer him the comfort of a bed for your first time together.
"Bedroom, Floyd. Now." You gasped, grasping his hair to pull him away from your neck. But when you got a good look at him, you almost abandoned the idea completely. His hair was ruffled from where you'd been pulling at it, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, his face was flushed a rosy pink, his lips were swollen and kiss bitten, and his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. He was a sight to behold.
You snapped back to reality, fixed his glasses so they sat correctly on his face, clenched your legs together, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to tug him behind you towards your bedroom. Bob, of course, had no complaints about this and followed you very happily. After watching you kick off your shoes as the both of you scurried down your hallway, he did the same. Not many thoughts were occurring in his brain at that moment, not any clean ones anyway, but one thing was certain as he looked at you: he'd never wanted someone more.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind him and before he had the chance to take in any of his surroundings he was pressed up against it and your lips were on his again, your hands desperately clutching at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants.
"Why- do- you- always- wear- your- uniform?" The question was asked between fiery kisses. Not that you were complaining. You loved to see him in his uniform. But he always looked so formal.
Bob waited until you were too distracted trying to unbuckle his belt to kiss him so he could get his answer out fully. "You once told me I look handsome in it."
You paused and tilted your head up to look at him. Taking in his open expression, you could tell that he was being honest. "God, I fucking love that you listen to me."
He laughed momentarily before his jaw snapped shut and he swallowed thickly as you began fumbling with his belt buckle again. "Your hands are shaking."
The observation was simple but had you freezing anyway. "Care to help a girl out then?"
Bob could tell that you were getting anxious, nerves suddenly overruling the initial excitement and lust. He could understand. He was currently running on the high of you dragging him to your bedroom. Maybe you also needed something like that to keep you going.
He glanced over your shoulder towards your bed and nodded towards it. "Lie down."
Bob watched as the fire quickly re-ignited in your eyes and you did as you were told, bouncing on the mattress as you sprawled yourself across it. Undoing his belt completely, he took a few steps towards you until he stood between your open legs.
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him eagerly. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it and crawled across it until he was hovering over you.
You hummed quietly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Hmm, I like this position."
He leaned in close, as if going to kiss you. "I thought you might."
His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. It was a tone you'd only had the privilege of hearing a few times before. During late nights when he was tired and could barely keep his eyes open as you continued to talk his ears off with meaningless nonsense but did so anyway just so he could listen to you talk. When he'd held you close to him during crowded nights at the Hard Deck and spoken directly into your ear so you could hear him over the sounds flooding the place. Moments that were intimate between you both but you'd been too oblivious to see as more than platonic.
It was the voice that Bob Floyd used to flirt with you.
You pulled back, wide eyed, to get a good look at him. "Oh, my god. You have made moves."
His brows scrunch for a moment, a confused laugh bubbling out of him. "Yeah, I said so earlier."
"I know but that voice." You poked his chest accusingly. "It's your flirty, sultry, bedroom voice! You've used it on me before!"
"It's not my-" He paused, thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Maybe you're right."
"I like it, it's hot. Do it again." You giggled when he rolled his eyes, reaching your hands up to start unfastening the buttons on his shirt.
"And what would you like me to say?" His voice dipped back down to the low tone and you had to suppress a shiver.
"Anything. I just like hearing you talk." You reached the last button and helped him slide the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that you knew always resided underneath. The brown uniform shirt was discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.
"How about how I think it's time for you to start removing some clothes? Since my shirt's off and my belt is unbuckled." His raised a finger to trace along the neckline of your t-shirt.
You whined. "Not fair. You're not even showing any skin yet. If I take my shirt off then all I've got is a bra on underneath."
Bob chuckled, low voice lost for a moment. "Is my white t-shirt not the equivalent of your bra?"
You pondered it for a moment. Maybe he was right. "Depends if you like the way my tits look in this bra as much as I like the way your biceps look in that white shirt."
He took a quick glance at his arms which were caging you into the bed, hand planted on either side of your head. "My biceps, huh?"
"A weakness of mine, I admit." You shrugged and sat up, pushing at his chest to give you some room. "Have to stop myself from biting them when I rest my head on your shoulder."
"For the record, I'd totally let you."
With a laugh you took Bob's hands in yours and guided them to the hem of your shirt, giving him a nod of confirmation. "You would now but let's be honest, it would've been a little unusual of me to just suddenly bite you before."
He tried desperately to keep eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have said a word of complaint."
"I'll remember that for the future." You paused and noticed his frozen stare. "You're allowed to look, y'know?"
He knew but he was holding himself back with the knowledge that he'd probably go feral once he saw you without a shirt on. Just below his eye line he could tell that the bra you were wearing was lacy and pretty much see-through. He took a deep breath before looking properly and let out a very low groan when he saw that your nipples were hard and very visible through the fabric.
Bob's dick twitched in his pants at the sight. He feared he wouldn't last very long once the two of you actually got going.
You leant back on your hands and watched him look over you. It was kind of entertaining and certainly a confidence booster for you. "Like what you see?"
His eyes met yours again. "Shut up. You know I fucking do."
That sent a ripple of heat through you. Despite knowing him for so long, you'd never heard Bob curse. He'd let out the occasional damn at big inconveniences but never anything more than that. You figured it was part of him being such a gentleman and the fact that he loved to point out that his mother raised him right.
"Careful, Floyd. That dirty mouth will get you in trouble." You flattened your back onto the bed again, pulling him down on top of you by a handful of his shirt.
"If by trouble you mean with you underneath me then I'm willing to take that risk." His voice somehow got lower, a raspy edge being added to it. It's like he knew exactly how to break you.
You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him down to kiss you again, you'd gone too long without feeling his mouth on yours, and you revelled in the grunt he let out against your lips.
This was a whole new side to Bob that you were seeing. And you were loving it. Somehow it was still so easy, the two of you continuing to just bounce off of each other and the sexual chemistry was luckily just naturally there as well. You thought it may have been slightly awkward between you but you'd never felt so confident about sleeping with someone in your life.
Bob realised he should probably check something before the two of you got any further so pulled away momentarily. "Do you have a condom?"
"Oh, yeah! Wait, hang on-" You slid away from him, hanging over the edge of the bed to rifle through a drawer in your nightstand. Producing a small box, you waved it triumphantly at him.
"Hoping those blind dates were going to be successful, huh?" He teased, reaching out to grab your waist to drag you back underneath him. He was relieved you had the box but if you didn't then he knew it wouldn't have stopped him from doing other things to you until you were able to buy some condoms.
Your jaw dropped. "No! Just never underprepared."
"I applaud your readiness. I'm sure if the apocalypse hits then we'll be thankful for your supply of condoms."
"If the apocalypse hits then we'll be tasked with repopulating the Earth and have to have lots of unprotected sex to do so." You bit back playfully, glad to see when his eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the mention of doing it raw. "Oh, you like that thought, huh?"
"You caught me. Guilty." He raised a hand in surrender before gesturing at you. "Now let's get naked so we can have lots of protected sex."
You had to fight back a surge of laughter but let a few giggles escape when you found Bob looking at you with an amused look of his own. You were glad that the two of you were still able to joke and be you even in an intimate moment like this, relieved that it didn't suddenly become serious.
Clothes were discarded and quick kisses were exchanged as the two of you inched closer and closer to where you both really wanted to be. After your bra had been unclasped and thrown into the void with every other item of clothing, and Bob had thoroughly explored your chest with both his hands and mouth, you fell back onto the bed with him on top of you for another round of kissing. It's like the two of you couldn't keep your lips separated for longer than necessary.
His bare chest pressed into yours, a sheen of sweat gliding between you, as he rocked his hips against you, grinding his hard length into your clothed pussy.
If you'd told Bob at the beginning of the evening that this was how his night would end then he would've laughed and told you he didn't believe you. But now that he was here, he couldn't have imagined it any other way. That's what made him realise that enough was enough.
He suddenly broke the kiss and sat up again, kneeling in between your legs. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of your panties, he made eye contact with you. "May I?"
You nodded vigorously.
Bob shook his head. "Words."
You could've orgasmed right there and then. "Yes, you can."
He took that answer and started to slide your panties down your legs slowly, helping you to lift your hips to get them off easier. Once they reached your ankles he plucked them off and cast them aside, planting a quick kiss on your calf before lowering your legs either side of him again.
You reached for the condoms to pass them to him, aware that you were only the one step of removing his underwear away before he'd finally be inside you.
But he pushed your hand aside, choosing instead to slide his palms down your thighs. "In a minute."
"We haven't got forever, y'know. Get on it." You laughed, curious as to what he was doing.
"Gotta get you ready first." He mumbled, pushing your legs apart so he could see better.
Oh? "I can assure you that I'm plenty ready and wet and would like your dick inside me now please."
"So polite." He hummed with a smile on his face. "And I can see how wet you are. Just gotta make sure that you're relaxed enough to take me."
"Somebody's confident about their size, huh?"
He laughed as he shook his head. "Would you rather me not go down on you?"
As much as you were teasing him not to, you very much wanted him to. "Fine, if you insist." You replied with a sigh and an exaggerated roll of your eyes.
Bob almost chuckled, but when he looked up into your eyes again he was met with an angelic vision. You were stretched out on the bed, naked, for him. All for him. He reminded himself to thank the universe at some point. But, before that, he needed to thank you by making you come.
He shuffled back on the bed, moving your legs over his shoulders as he did so, and laid flat on his stomach before you. And got to work.
Bob practically devoured you.
You writhed underneath his grasp, one of his arms thrown across your stomach to keep you in place, as he licked and sucked at you. Your clit throbbed against his tongue as he flicked it from side to side over the sensitive spot. One of your hands flew to tangle in his hair as your legs trembled on either side of his head.
"Oh- oh, my god." You panted, chest heaving with laboured breaths. You looked down at him to see that his glasses had fogged up. You let out a slightly strangled laugh at him as he decided to slide a finger into you at that moment.
"Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped and collapsed back onto the pillows.
Bob moaned into you and you let out a cry at the feeling of the vibrations running through you. His finger pumped in and out of you. Slowly at first before he increased the pace and then, once you were somehow even wetter, introduced a second finger.
And with two of his fingers inside of you, bending slightly to hit that sweet spot inside of you, along with his tongue making tight little circles on your clit, it didn't take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen and then suddenly explode through you. Your body shook with pleasure, a tidal wave of profanity and primal noises escaping your mouth.
Bob gave you no time to rest though, surging up your body and kissing you again, giving you a taste of yourself which had you moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back again, you smiled. His glasses were still foggy.
"Can you even see through these?" You asked, reaching up to take them off of him. Wiping gently at the lenses with your bedsheets, you awaited an answer.
"Not really. I usually take them off for this kind of thing. But I forgot. In the excitement." He looked away from you, embarrassed. Funny how he could still be shy despite having just eaten you out like no one else had before.
You hummed quietly, taking his face in your hands to direct him to kiss you again after you'd placed his glasses down on your nightstand as you wrapped your legs around the backs of his and bucked your hips up towards him. "Are we going to do something about you now? Because I know you've been hard since we first kissed."
"I was hoping you hadn't noticed how quickly that happened." The low, raspy voice was back and you felt yourself melting a little on the inside.
"Difficult not to when we were practically dry humping in the middle of the kitchen." You trailed a finger down his torso over his, extremely sculpted, abs and stopped at the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tip of your finger inside.
He watched what you were doing. "I did get a little carried away there, granted."
You paused, asking him the silent question of approval to carry on, before slipping your hand into his underwear and grabbing him. His skin was soft and velvety under your palm and, before you even had the chance to start stroking him, his dick twitched in your hand. "Mmm... so sensitive, Bobby."
He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.
You reached for the box of condoms again, realising this probably wouldn't last very long if you did much else with your hand, and pulled one foil wrapper out. Quietly uttering his name to get him to open his eyes again, you pushed the condom against Bob's chest. "Put it on."
He didn't reply, didn't need to reply, just followed your instructions and did as he was told. Straightening up again into a kneeling position, he flailed around a little in an attempt to kick his underwear off. You tried not to laugh. When he succeeded, he ripped the packaging open with his teeth and rolled the condom onto himself in one smooth motion. And then he positioned himself over you, notching the tip of his length at your entrance.
He looked down at you for confirmation to go ahead.
You had one last teasing comment. "Your confidence in your size was warranted."
He huffed out a laugh. "I'd be insulted in your lack of confidence if I didn't love you so much."
Warmth bloomed through your chest. It had been implied several times throughout the night but hearing the words come out of his mouth meant so much more. He loved you.
You beamed up at him. "Glad to know that your love for me overrides any possible offence. I'll be using that to my advantage in future. Now please fuck me, I'm going crazy here."
Bob adored the way you were able to flip a conversation so easily. But he was glad you'd said it as he was beginning to experience his own temporary insanity being on the brink of having sex with you but not quite being there just yet.
He pushed into you slowly at first and then all at once, not being able to hold himself back. Once he'd bottomed out he paused for a moment, a choked groan leaving his throat. You whined at the stretch, glad for the previous orgasm prepping you for this.
"Just- just give me a second." Bob warned you, hanging his head as he took deep breaths.
Patiently, you waited.
Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to get a grip of himself as he eased out of you before slamming back in again. You gasped at the sensation. He set a pace, a steady yet almost brutal one. The loud sounds of sex filled the room and you hoped your neighbours were long asleep.
Bob buried his face in your neck, using his elbows to keep himself from smothering you. The noises he let out into your skin were heavenly and you were thankful that they weren't too muffled. You clawed as his back, making scratches that you'd have to apologise profusely for the next day.
"Fuck, harder please. Please harder." You didn't think it was possible for him to go any harder, the way he pounded into you already making the headboard shake, but you begged him to anyway. And somehow he found a way.
Your skin prickled with a burn where he slapped against you, one of his large hands sliding down to grip harshly at the flesh of your ass in order to pull you impossibly closer to him. He continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling. The pressure was steadily building in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every thrust of Bob’s hips.
You clung onto his shoulders tightly as you plummeted off the edge, your thighs locking in on either side of him to lock him in place. Bob paused his movements for a second, feeling you clench around him as your throat formed a silent scream that came out as a gasp, and only started up again when you relaxed beneath him.
He pulled away from your neck to look down at you, finding a giddy smile on your face. He kissed you, all teeth and tongues, as he pumped into you a few more times before spilling into the condom. And then he collapsed on top of you.
The two of you stayed there for a couple of minutes, both catching your breath.
“I’m glad you had so many failed dates.” Bob whispered into the glistening skin of your chest.
You laughed quietly. “Me too.”
He eased himself up slowly, pulling out of you with a hiss, to dispose of the condom. “Do you think Phoenix purposely set you up on bad dates so you’d admit your feelings for me?”
You thought about it for a second. “Probably. She knows I’ve had a crush on you for forever. And I can’t think of any other good reason that she’d set me up with a sunset hater.”
Bob pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for you to get in, crawling in beside you. “Can’t believe that guy.”
“I know!” You laughed and turned on your side to look at him. “Wished she’d done it sooner then we could’ve been doing this for a lot longer.”
He joined in on your laughter. “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time now to be doing this a lot more.”
You smiled. “I’m glad.”
He smiled back. “Me too.”
You scooted closer to each other, limbs tangling together into one big mess, softs words of love exchanged between you as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.
A/N: this is the longest thing I think I’ve ever posted as a single thing… hope you enjoyed!
#bob fucks#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd fanfiction#top gun#top gun maverick#ej’s fics#ej’s writing#deakyjoe’s fics#deakyjoe’s writing#bob floyd smut#robert floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut
222 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jake and Bradley are talking very animatedly at the table as Phoenix crosses the mess hall, ushering her to move quickly so she can join in.
“Shhhh!!!! You’re too damn loud Rooster, someone is going to hear!”
“Oh shut up, we don’t have much time until he gets over here. Nat!! We need your opinion.”
“Oh God, what? I just wanted to eat my lunch in peace.”
Bradley peers behind her and then ducks his head to whisper at her.
“We think Bob has a girlfriend.”
She rolls her eyes at them and Bradley flails his arms towards Jake-
“Seriously! Hangman tell her!”
“Ok so he hasn’t come out with us in almost 3 weeks and then today-“
Bradley cuts him off because he thinks he can see the WSO entering the mess hall.
“Today he stepped out of the showers and is COVERED in scratch marks and bruises. So unless he suddenly joined fight club he’s definitely seeing someone.”
They all snap their mouths shut as Bob sits down at the table with his lunch, looking them over like they’ve all grown three heads, Natasha attempting to stifle giggles as she tries to eat her salad.
“Hey…guys…What’s going on?”
He looks bewildered and the boys are looking anywhere but at him, Nat clears her throat but still can’t seem to stop her giggles.
“Bob, why don’t you tell us what you’ve been up to the past few weeks, apparently the boys are sad that you don’t come out with us anymore.”
Jake is trying to signal for her to shut up, Bradley meanwhile looks like a deer in headlights.
“Is that why yall are being so weird? Seriously? I went out of town last weekend to pack up my storage unit in Lemoore and this weekend I’ve been moving in to my house with my wife. Yall are welcome to come by when we get it all settled, I’m sure she’ll want to host some sort of get together, she lives for that stuff.”
Jake drops his fork, blinking several times to process and Bradley is catching flies with his unhinged jaw, neither of them seem to be able to process what he just said meanwhile Natasha is cackling.
“What’s their deal?” Bob says to Nat and she just claps him on the shoulder.
“Oh Bob, those poor boys thought you were sweet and innocent, just wait until they find out about the kids.”
“YOU HAVE KIDS?!”
#top gun maverick#bob floyd#warm up#I’m bored#secret wife is my favorite trope#Bob fucks#top gun maverick fanfiction
205 notes
·
View notes
Text
Buzzing Romance
Robert "Bob" Floyd
Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.
Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!
Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.
Word count: 1.1k
Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you.
Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.
A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.
Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance.
Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh.
It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship.
Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise.
The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.
You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform.
Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit.
Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado.
Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited.
You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body.
The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.
Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand.
“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out.
Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”
“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen.
“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink.
While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”
His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends.
Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy.
“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you.
“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck.
“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”
“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.
“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.
You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”
Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.
With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.
Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!
A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈
Tag list: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @seitmai @abaker74 @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @beyondthesefourwalls @bradshawsprincess @damrlova @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @sweetwhispersofchaos @bellaireland1981 @fanboyswhore9 @hardballoonlove @catsandbooksandstuff @mygyn
#top gun fanfiction#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick#top gun#topgun#robert floyd fic#reader x robert floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#robert floyd#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#bob fucks#tgm bob#topgun bob#top gun bob#bob floyd fucks#tgm fics#topgun valentines
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sing the Body
pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader
summary: the idea didn't seem that hard, him eating you out while you read him poetry. what you didn't realize was he meant I Sing the Body Electric by Walt Whitman. now your professor was between your legs as you tried to read nine long verses of the most intimate poetry.
wc: 3.9k
warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, pet name (dove), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.
a/n: finally, more poetry professor bob.
“And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.”
The last word ended with a moan, the sound filling the space around you. It egged Bob on, pushed him to lick a stripe up your slit. Tongue tracing every part it could, swirling and flicking against your clit while keeping you tightly to him. Strong arms were wrapped around your thighs to hold you in place. His glasses were slightly askew as he watched you from below. He was currently on his knees worshiping you while you sat on the edge of his desk.
“Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?” Your mind was swimming, eyes struggling to figure out the words on the page.
The pleasure was so much, making it too hard to focus. But you had to, if not he wouldn’t let you come and send you away with the promise to not touch you for a week. That was your punishment, his as well. This little game of cat and mouse was becoming more exciting the longer it lasted. The cat had finally trapped the mouse, but he had always loved playing with his food before consuming it.
“And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead? And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul? And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?” You let the book rest against your chest. Shaky breaths passed your lips as you watched Bob give one earnest lick to your clit before pulling back to place a kiss on your thigh.
“So good for me, dove,” he whispered, then nipping at your skin lightly, “got through that verse with no problem.”
You nodded then picked the book back up when he motioned to it. He pressed a kiss to your thigh right before you started verse two. His tongue traced down the inside of your thigh back to your aching cunt, licking a big stripe from your entrance to your clit. A shiver ran through you as he started back up again, pleasure flaring up again.
“The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account, That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.” A gasp escaped your lips as Bob sucked harshly on your clit at the last word. Your abdomen clenched tightly, but you kept up with the words. “The expression of the face balks account, But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face, It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists, It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him.”
A shudder ran through you as he flicked fervently against your clit. Your hand that was planted on the desk to balance you moved to his hair. Your fingers threaded through his soft locks as your body curled forward. A tightness was forming along your shoulder blades. Your eyes were shut tight, your hand holding the book had a similarly tight grip on the book. When you finally opened your eyes and looked down you were stunned. Bob’s head was tilted back slightly, mouth open with his tongue hanging out and still working against you.
Silent noises were coming from you, your facial expressions being the only telling sign of them. Seeing Bob like that was mind numbing, making you wonder how you were going to get through the rest of the poem. Your abdomen already felt impossibly tight, how could you handle eight more verses. You let your fingers loosen from his hair, moving back to your original position but laying on your back this time. This was going to be the easiest way to focus, or at least the easiest to focus on the words you were supposed to be reading.
“The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth, To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,” a shock of pleasure ran up your spine, making it bow lightly, “You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.”
“The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,” Bob started sucking a little harshly. You felt one of his hands disappear from your thighs, only to reappear between your legs. He replaced his mouth with his fingers momentarily as you continued, “The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and fro in the heave of the water.”
“The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the horseman in his saddle, Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,” Bob said the next two lines from memory, watching as you peaked down at him.
“God, you’re impeccable,” Bob whispered into where your inner thigh met your pubic bone. With that he was diving back into you, tongue licking slowly at your clit. This time his fingers wandered lower, one circling your entrance.
“The group, group of laborers,” you couldn’t help your sudden stutter as Bob sunk one finger inside of you, “seated at noon-time with, with their open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting, The female soothing a child, the far-farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard, The young fellow hoeing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd.” You had to pause, you knew that if you kept going you were going to come. You had to take a minute to compose yourself.
Bob hadn’t said anything about entering you, fingers or cock. He had only said he wanted to eat you like a starved man. Someone who hadn’t felt a touch for years. A man who merely dreamt of the day he could worship you again. Provide all the pleasures of the world to you, letting you know he would never leave you again. Conveying that the yearning within him was real, and so much more than that.
“The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sun-down after work,” one of his fingers pressed into you, eliciting a moan from you in between lines. “The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance, The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes.”
During the last sentence Bob brought his free hand up to your side. A soft squeeze that reminded you that even though he was deep between your legs, enjoying every sound you had to give him, he was still here for you and all you had to do was say if it was too much. Even though you were starting to question if you could get through all nine verses of the poem, you were more than determined to give him what you wanted. That sweet, sweet man who has risked everything for you. The least you could give him was to comply with the idea of reading to him while he pleasured you.
“The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,” your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers worked you open, tongue working tirelessly against your clit. “The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert.”
The combination of his fingers pressing against the bundle of nerves inside of you and tongue working over that outer bundle of nerves was pushing you closer to the edge. The flame that was licking at the inside of your abdomen, causing everything to clench up, was hard to stave off. You felt like you’d be consumed by the flame at any moment, it bursting into a full blaze of flames.
“The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck and the counting,” you moved up onto your elbow, letting the book rest onto your chest once more. The urge to look at the way your professor was currently on his knees for you was too strong. It was demanding your attention, as if he himself was forcing you to watch. Your voice was weak and unbalanced when speaking once more. “Such, such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child.” Moans and sighs punctuated between the words, Bob’s fingers slowly moved inside of you, curling up and pressing against the bundle of nerves again.
“Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.” Bob finished for you, having noticed it was getting harder for you to continue. “You’re doing so well,” Bob whispered as his slick and spit-covered lips pressed onto your thigh.
“Thank you,” you said, watching his eyebrow quirk up. Fuck. “Thank you, Professor Floyd.”
A groan fell from his lips when he heard the title. It should not have made his dick twitch as much as it did, the intense throb driving him nearly mad. The only thing holding his sanity together was the sweet noises you were making, but it felt as if you were also pushing him further into his madness. He knew from the moment this arrangement happened he would be fucked. Literally and metaphorically. It was so wrong, but it felt so fucking good. Who knew that breaking the rules could feel this good?
“I’m not sure if I can finish,” you whimpered, “it’s getting to be too, too much.”
Bob inched up your body, pressing kisses up your clothed upper half. He had thought about begging to completely undress you, but he knew it could be too risky. Yes, it was a Friday night and nobody would be walking near his tucked away office, but the risk was still there. Hestood and leaned up over you, pressed his slick covered lips against yours, and elicited a moan from you. His own clothed chest was barely grazing the binding of the book resting on yours.
“You can, little dove, I know you can,” he pressed his forehead to yours then brought his free hand to your face. Knuckles softly ghosted over your cheek and jaw. He could tell from the way you were squeezing around his fingers that you were close, had been for awhile. It must have been hard to hold back for so long. He pressed his thumb to your sensitive clit, rubbing rhythmic circles against you.
“Help.” It was the only word you could get out. You hadn’t planned on asking for help when this started. Bob had offered it, but your pride had got the best of you. But now it seemed like the only way to complete all nine verses of the poem.
“Help?” The thumb on your clit stopped. Bob held back a deep groan, his cock twitching in his pants. You were asking him for help, the thing you had so vehemently denied at the beginning. Both of his hands cupped your face, slick covered fingers wet against your cheek.
“Please,” the whimper wasn’t intentional, but you knew it’d make him break.
“Of course,” he grabbed your jaw and tilted it up, forcing your lips to meet his. “Can I fill you up?”
A moan escaped you, his words fueling the bonfire deep within your abdomen. The thought of his cock filling you to the brim while reciting a poem so intimate. If someone had told you that this, your poetry professor asking to put his cock in you, would happen to you, you would have laughed. The very idea was something out of a book, but yet here you were, actually experiencing it.
“Yes,” you wrapped one arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.
Your lips smashed together once more, moaning at the taste of your slick on his tongue again. He removed the book from your chest, throwing it somewhere behind you on the desk. The warmth of his touch was then cascading down your sides, giving an occasional squeeze to your covered flesh. They ghosted over the skin of your uncovered hips, only to trail up your outer thighs, then down the backs of them. When the kiss broke, you looked down to watch his hands move from your thighs to his slacks. Bob’s eyes were trained to your face, watching you watch his hands. His fingers worked diligently to undo his slacks, pushing those and his boxers down just enough to reveal his cock.
You would never get tired of seeing his cock. It was gorgeous, pretty even. The way it felt inside of you, pulsing and stretching, always had you coming so quickly. You shifted your weight slightly, moving the arm holding you up down to grab his cock. A muffled groan graced your ears, which urged you to stroke his cock a little more.
“I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons, And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons,” Bob started the poem again, trying to not lose the objective of this rendezvous.
“This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person.” It was easier to recite now that you weren’t the one having your mind completely clouded with pleasure. “The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness and breadth of his manners.” Your strokes started to quicken, a part of you wanting to make him struggle the way you had earlier.
“These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,” Bob’s hands gripped your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours. “He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,” his voice was starting to waver slightly, taking more time for each section he recited.
“They and his daughters loved him,” you slowed your strokes and spoke precisely, “all who saw him loved him, They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal love,” you squeezed your hand lightly around the head of his cock, a gasp passing Bob’s lips. “He drank water only, the blood show’d like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face,” your gaze locked with Bob’s, his glasses still askew. “He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail’d his boat himself, he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner, he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him.”
“When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish,” he slowly started to thrust into your hand, “you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang.”
“You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other.”
With the last line you loosened your hand from his cock. A shuddering breath left him, giving you a surge of confidence. You pressed your lips to his neck, running your tongue along his salty skin. As you paid attention to his neck and ran your fingers up through his hair, he was adjusting you on his desk. His grip was firm on your hips, scooting you a tiny bit closer to the edge. It suddenly felt like your ass was hanging off of the desk, making you pull back in concern.
“I have you, don’t worry,” Bob whispered.
One of his hands left your hips, moving to grip the base of his cock. He adjusted between your legs, assuming a tall and stable stature. The head of his cock pushed through your folds and rubbed against your clit. Moans were lightly falling from your lips, whines accenting them every now and then.
“I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,” Bob was the one to start the next verse. “To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,” a groan escaped him briefly, “To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough.”
On the last word you felt him against your entrance, teasing you. Those sea blue eyes locked with yours, telling you everything that you needed to know.
“To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then? I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.”
The gaze never broke as he started to press into you. The stretch of his cock felt amazing, pushing almost all the air from your lungs. No matter how many times he had fucked you, you would never fully get used to his size, his girth.
“There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well.”
The words of the poem were becoming more and more real. It felt as if the poem was describing the two of you currently, encapsulating the essence of your sensations and pleasures. That flame that had been consuming you, engulfing the both of you. You went to continue, say the last line, but Bob was finishing it for you with a single deep thrust into you.
“All things please the soul, but these please the soul well.”
A shudder of pleasure rushed through you as he continued into the next verse.
“This is the female form,” one of his hands traced up your side, “A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot, It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction.” He refused to move within you, cock stuffed deep as he spoke. “I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it,” he leaned forward, lips close to your ear now.
“Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth,” his voice was barely a whisper, “and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed.”
His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Your body flexed around him, feeling the hard length filling you. Hot breath coated your ear, a soft groan flooded your hearing. His groan made you clench around him again, holding him like a vice. Bob’s left hand moved up your body, gripped your jaw, and turned your face to look at him. There was this feral look in his eyes, one you didn’t see that often from him. You could only recall two other times you had seen it. His lips parted, tongue darting over them.
“Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable,” his eyes darted to your lips, only to flick back up to your eyes. His right hand started to move over your body, kneading at the flesh of your torso and thighs. “Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused.”
The words were being spoken into you, giving you a new meaning to life. A new meaning of intimacy. Fingertips were digging into the bare flesh of your thighs, pressing your leg tightly to his side. His hips were pressed just as tightly to yours. The opening of his pants were most likely going to leave an imprint on your ass, but you didn’t care. Almost even looked forward to it.
“Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching,” he shifted his hips slightly, pressing harder against you. “Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love,” his hand left your thigh and moved to the apex of your legs, “white-blow and delirious juice,” his fingers moved to the spot where you two were joined.
A moan left you when you felt it, his fingers touching your stretched hole. You could feel his fingers gather some of your slick, using it to rub your clit. You clenched around him, the tightness in your abdomen returned quickly. All you could do was stare into his eyes, his gaze unwavering.
“Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,” he was drawing perfect circles on your clit, “Undulating into the willing and yielding day, Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day.”
Fire was coursing through your veins, pleasure licking at all of your insides. The circling of his fingers and stretch of his cock was getting to be too much. It was all becoming too much, the way his words were mixing with his movements.
“Professor,” it came out as a whimper, “I can’t.”
“It’s okay, I know,” he reassured. He knew you were close, could feel it by the way your cunt was gripping his cock.
“But I we agreed tha-”
“Don’t worry, dove, I want to feel it, feel you let go.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, reassuring you that it was okay. Bob knew there was a chance that neither of you would be able to complete the task at hand. Even though he had placed a consequence in place, he knew deep in his heart he could never follow through with it. The way you were clawing at him, clutching onto every aspect of him, it was driving him mad like it always did. Ever since your first time together he knew he was a goner.
The tightness in your abdomen snapped quickly, a flame licking at all your organs while pleasure was coursing through you. You curled in on Bob while you came, clutching him as if your life depended on it. While you were coming Bob started moving, thrusting lightly into you to keep your orgasm moving through you. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping them tightly. The noises coming from you were spurring Bob on, wanting to keep your orgasm going. His thrusts were becoming stronger and harder. That’s when you felt it, again.
“Oh, fuck!”
It felt like another orgasm hit you, making your legs quake against Bob’s sides. Bob’s movements stilled, balls deep inside of you. A shudder passed through his body, one that felt almost like your own. A warmth filled you up, his cum covering your insides. Bob moved his head to your shoulder, trying to catch his breath as you both started to come down. You brought one of your hands up to the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing and playing with the outgrown ends of his hair.
There was a small guilty feeling starting to creep up inside of you. You had started this with a large ego, boasting about how easy it would have been. But now here you were slumped against him, out of breath with a blank mind. All you could do was touch his hair and try to get your breath synced with his. You thought about the punishment that was now to come.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his hair.
Bob pulled back from your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before speaking.
“Don’t be, we can try again another time,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Excitement filled you. The thought of hearing all these words again, him reminding you of the way you made him feel. A smile pulled at your lips as you thought about it more. God, you were truly smitten for your professor.
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd smut#bob floyd imagine#bob fucks#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x reader#poetry professor!bob floyd#bob floyd fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#tgm fanfiction
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
She Calls Him Daddy [Bob Floyd x Reader]
DILF Bob Floyd
Summary: Coming home from college for winter break, the last thing you expected was to run into your best friend’s father while out shopping for new lingerie to surprise your fuck buddy with. You had always tried to hide your attraction for Mr. Floyd because he was Anna’s father. But all rules are thrown out when Bob invites you over on Christmas Eve while Anna is at her mother’s house. You’ll never be able to look at your friend’s dad the same way ever again.
Pairing: DILF Bob Floyd x Reader
Warnings: Just pure filth and smut, cursing, age difference, power imbalance
WC: 6K
Your fingers brushed along the array of pastel lace before you paused, reaching out and selecting a hanger.
It was perfect. Silky black straps with delicate lace bra cups that led to a sheer lace middle cut high on the hips in a thong. You smiled. Jonah was going to lose his goddamn mind when he saw you in this.
You turned, instantly colliding with a person who had been right behind you, their back to you, your skimpy bodysuit flying to the floor as you began to fall. But the person you had crashed into reached down instantly, catching you before you absolutely ate shit in the middle of the store floor.
“Oh my God!” you exclaimed as the man’s hands caught your waist, hauling you to standing. “Thank you!”
A gasp left your mouth as you looked up.
“Mr. Floyd.”
“Y/N.” His voice was deep, sultry. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. He leaned down and retrieved the discarded hanger and black lingerie from the floor. But instead of handing it to you, he held it up and examined it.
“I’m, uh, buying it for a friend,” you lied.
Bob Floyd’s blue eyes met yours. His tone was patient, his mouth in a hard line. “Is that so?” he asked. “Not Anna I hope.”
“No, of course not.” At the mention of Anna, your best friend and Bob Floyd’s daughter, you wanted to crumple into a million pieces. You could never tell her that her father had caught you buying lingerie or that you had literally fallen into his arms like a damsel in distress.
Even if it made you ache between your legs. Even if a part of you had been crushing on Mr. Floyd since you were sixteen.
You couldn’t even admit it to yourself that sometimes, when you slept with Jonah, your college fuck buddy, you pictured Bob Floyd’s face when you closed your eyes. Same when you had your vibrator pressed tightly against your clit beneath the covers in the privacy of your dorm single. It was Bob Floyd’s face looming in your mind as you let yourself break apart.
Bob gripped the hanger tightly. He looked at the bodysuit and then at you. You felt like you could melt from the intensity of his gaze, even if it only lasted a second. “That would look good on you,” he said, voice low and you felt your heart beating erratically in your chest. “But this would look better.” He reached out and pulled a bra and panty set from the next rack over. It was a white bra with sheer demi cups and a matching high-waisted thong with a thick waistband and tiny pearls dotting the band. Clipped onto the hanger was a lace trimmed garter.
Words escaped you. Your jaw was practically hanging on the ground.
Bob stepped closer. Somehow, it was just the two of you in the entire store. You realized you never asked why he was in a lingerie and pajama shop, so close to Christmas. Bob leaned one muscular arm against the wall to his left. “Y/N. Do you have a boyfriend?”
You shook your head.
His eyes flitted to the black one piece that you had discarded on the rack. “So why are you buying something like that?” he asked. It was almost condescending, the way he said it. “To impress someone?” Bob added after a moment.
You nodded. “Maybe.”
Bob frowned. “I don’t like it.” Yes, he had made that very clear. Now for the rest of your life you would avoid black lingerie like the plague simply because you knew Bob Floyd didn’t like it.
You wanted to please him. It was sickening how badly you wanted his approval. Perhaps because your own father couldn’t care less where you ran off to on any given day and Bob cared deeply where Anna was at all times. He was a good father. A better father than yours.
Or perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. Like he was trying to memorize you so he could chisel you from marble later.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Bob reached out, brushing your chin with his rough fingertips. You shuddered, need pulsating in your body like a pinball machine. “Don’t be,” he murmured gruffly. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting all dressed up for some boy who doesn’t know how to please you.”
You couldn’t believe that Bob Floyd of all people was looking at you like this. Like he wanted to rip off your clothes. You thought he saw you as a daughter. As just one of Anna’s little friends. He and his wife had gotten divorced nearly ten years ago. You had long known Bob Floyd as simply Anna’s dad. All of the single mothers at your school went crazy for him, but he didn’t give them a second glance. His focus was on Anna and getting her into a good college. But she had done that. She was at Brown. She was happy.
So what was he doing now?
Apparently, he was cornering you in an upscale lingerie boutique two days before Christmas. And the worst part was, you didn’t hate it. You didn’t hate it at all.
“Y/N,” Bob said. “Wait outside. And here, wear this.” He shrugged off his wool coat, draping it over your shoulders. You drowned in it. He was far taller and larger than you and you felt like a little girl wearing her father’s clothing. “I’ll meet you in a minute.”
You did as you were told, stepping out of the store and waiting, impatiently, until Bob returned a few minutes later with two store bags in his hands.
He handed you one and you looked up with shock. “Here.”
“I, um, I can’t.”
Bob slid his hands into his pockets. “Then return it if you want,” he replied. “Or you can come over tomorrow night and I can show you what those boys at Yale never could.”
Your mouth hung open. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?
Bob smiled, for the first time during your interaction. “Tomorrow, eight o’clock.” And then he was gone, leaving you standing under the striped awning wearing his heavy coat as he disappeared into the snow.
***
“Isn’t Anna at her mother’s house for Christmas?”
You shook your head, turning down the hall. “No, she was there for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s right,” your mom replied, rubbing her hands together mindlessly as she followed behind you. “Are you sure you want to spend Christmas Eve at her dad’s house? What about our annual pie bake off?”
You sighed, leaning one arm on the wooden door frame to your room. “Mom, please. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, I promise. I never get to see her anymore.”
“I know sweetheart.” She put her hand on your cheek softly. “Well, have fun and be safe.”
She closed the door and you rushed over to your closet, sliding it open and pulling out the bag from the lingerie store. With bated breath, you pulled out the neatly wrapped bundle, breaking the cloth tape seal on the tissue paper.
Inside, just as you had expected, was the white set that Bob Floyd had recommended. Bra, panties, matching garter and thigh highs.
There was also a small white card. You flipped it open.
Merry Christmas, Y/N.
-BF
You couldn’t help but be disappointed. You thought there would be something else. The invitation was to spend the night, wasn’t it? Or had you somehow misinterpreted what he said?
But the lingerie sitting perfectly in the box was a different story. That was the nail in the coffin.
Quickly, you got dressed, zipping your duffle bag shut and bidding goodnight to your parents, promising to text them once you got to Anna’s.
Your heart was beating erratically in your chest for the fifteen minute drive, and you thought you might spontaneously combust the moment you pulled into the familiar driveway. It was hard to unsee the history of your friendship with Anna outlined everywhere you looked.
The two of you tanning on the front lawn in the summers. The curb where you hit your head roller skating and had to get five stitches. How many times had you parked your old car in their driveway, waiting for Anna to slide into the passenger seat? How many times had the two of you snuck out of that house late at night for parties, scantily clad and carrying water bottles full of liquor you had pilfered from Mr. Floyd’s office where he kept his alcohol stash?
You parked the car and leaned back. You were really doing this. You had been thinking about Bob Floyd ever since you were a teenager. Now, you were nineteen. You had slept with other guys. You knew exactly what you were doing.
Which is how you found yourself with an overnight bag in one hand, knocking on the all-too-familiar wooden front door as snow fell softly around you in clumps.
The heavy door swung open. Bob Floyd stood wearing a blue cable knit sweater and a pair of ironed trousers, wool socks, his hair combed back neatly, his wire glasses square on his nose. He smiled. Behind him, the house was warm. It practically glowed. “Y/N,” he said softly.
“Mr. Floyd.”
“Come in,” he said. It was a demand. He grabbed the overnight bag from your hand seamlessly, leading you through the door, one hand on your back as he guided you into the hallway that opened up to the large living room in the back of the house. “I’ll take your coat.”
You shrugged out of the Italian wool overcoat and handed it to him, standing in a pair of ivory knee-high boots and a white turtleneck dress that clung tightly to your curves. Bob’s gaze rolled over you slowly.
“Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want a drink?”
“What do you have?”
Bob returned from the hall closet. “Honey, you know better than anyone what I have. Don’t think I didn’t know the two of you were sneaking into my liquor cabinet all those years.”
You flushed, turning around halfway on the couch to peer over the back at him, mouth agape. Bob chuckled, heading for the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with two glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “You knew?” you asked, aghast.
He sat down on the other end of the couch, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to you. “Of course I knew,” he said, his voice thick and rumbling.
Bob poured himself a drink and then leaned back against the couch, one arm stretched out over the back.
“You think I didn’t watch you and Anna closely?” he added as you took a sip. It fizzed on your tongue and in your throat. “I’m her father, Y/N. It’s my duty to protect her. And you.”
Protect. The word rang in your head on repeat. Your eyes flicked down to Bob’s hands. So strong and lean, with veins running on the back of his hands toward his sweater-covered arms. You squirmed unintentionally on the couch.
Bob’s blue eyes were locked on yours. But instead of looking away, you let him in. God, he was beautiful. Jonah and all the other guys you had slept with had nothing compared to Bob Floyd. The small crinkle of skin next to his eyes was the only thing that betrayed his age. He was practically flawless. You weren’t the first person to notice how drop dead gorgeous Bob Floyd was. There were whispers behind Anna’s back. But Bob Floyd didn’t date. And besides, you were twenty years younger than him. What could he possibly want with you?
“Mr. Floyd,” you said and Bob smirked.
“Y/N,” he said, deep voice punctuating the air. “You can call me Bob.”
You shook your head. “It sounds wrong.”
He reached out a hand, nudging his thumb beneath your chin. “Does it feel wrong?”
“No.”
“Good girl.”
You practically whimpered. Bob’s azure eyes never left yours as he dropped his hand and rubbed his palm over his thigh in his khakis.
“Did you like my gift?”
You nodded.
“Are you wearing it now?”
Another nod. Bob’s eyes grew wider, darker. He shifted in his seat, setting his champagne glass down on the fancy wooden coffee table.
You crossed your legs, noting that Bob’s gaze followed you as you slowly lifted up one leg, crossing it over the other, adjusting yourself on the sofa a few inches closer to him.
Bob stood up, running one hand through his hair. He spun around.
“I can drive you home,” he said, “if you’d like. It’s snowing and it’s late. I realize now I didn’t ask if you wanted to come here.” He shook his head. “If you’re uncomfortable, we just pretend this never happened. You’re still Anna’s best friend, I’m still her father.”
You stood up, smoothing your dress with your hands and stepping closer. Hesitantly, you reached out, placing one hand on his chest. “I wanted to come.”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded. “You do know you’re the hot dad that every girl in our grade had a crush on, right?” You rolled your eyes. “Anna hated it.”
Bob smirked, one hand coming up and toying with your fingertips pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater. His fingers circled your wrist, tight, and you gasped. “Is that right?” he asked, voice husky.
“Mmhm.”
“What about you?” His fingers slipped past your wrist, up the sleeve of your dress, dancing lightly along the thin skin of your forearm. “Do you think of me?”
“Yes.” It was the truth. You flushed.
“When do you think of me, darlin?” he rasped. Bob shifted closer so you could feel the heat radiating off of him.
“When I'm alone,” you admitted softly. “When I touch myself.”
His fingers slid out from beneath your sleeve and you thought for a brief moment that he was going to turn you away, send you off on your merry way out into the snow with bruised pride and unseen lingerie.
But instead, Bob mumbled something underneath his breath before his eyes were piercing yours again, his hands finding their way to either side of your neck, tilting your head up toward him.
“Darlin’,” he groaned. “Trying to kill me?”
“Well you are old,” you murmured, "wouldn't be too difficult." He chuckled.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “If you want to stop, we stop.”
You nodded, heart pounding wildly in your chest as Bob Floyd leaned down, sliding his mouth against yours, his fingers curling around your neck. You placed your hands on his arms, melting into the kiss.
Kissing Bob was like unlocking an entirely new facet of sex. His lips were soft, practically caressing yours, and his fingers pressed just deep enough into your neck and the base of your head as his tongue swirled in your mouth.
To your surprise, Bob groaned, stepping in closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you against the wall as he towered over you, across you, every inch of your body on fire.
Bob pulled back, eyes wide, his lower half still pressed against yours, his face and shoulders leaning back a few inches. “Y/N? Do you want this?”
“Yes, Mr. Floyd.”
“Then take off your dress and get on your knees.”
Bob stepped back as you carefully lifted the hem of your white dress, pulling it up and over your head, dropping it on the ground and crossing your arms over your chest sheepishly.
He shook his head, reaching out and prying your arms off of your chest, exposing your breasts in the whisper of white mesh and lace, the dainty sheer g-string, the sheer thigh highs that you had worn to please him. “Fuck,” he murmurred, letting your arms go and trailing one fingertip over your right breast, circling the hardened nipple. You whimpered, aching for him. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they snapped open and Bob’s hand was drawn back. You sank to the floor, wetness already pooling in your panties.
“Go ahead,” Bob said, his voice almost gritty it was so hoarse. Your hands reached up for his belt, undoing the clasp clumsily before pressing ahead the button of his pants, unlooping it. Your eyes widened as your fingers wrapped around the metal zipper, tugging it down over his hard bulge. Bob groaned as your fingers drew over his cock, even through his boxers, and you tugged the waistband of his khakis down, kneeling back slightly. “You ready for my cock, darlin’?”
You nodded, skimming your fingers under the band of his boxer briefs, tugging them down as Bob’s hard cock sprang to attention. You audibly gasped and above you, Bob smirked. He was thick and impossibly long, angry red head seemingly staring at you, taunting you.
Immediately, you reached out and licked the tip with your tongue, swirling it around his leaking tip, your eyes locked on Bob’s. His hands stayed at his side like a mummy, but his blue eyes bore into yours.
You opened your mouth wider, pressing your thighs together as you leaned in, one hand on the base of his shaft while you pushed his cock into your mouth and throat, gagging around his length as his tip bashed against the back of your throat. Your eyes started to water but you kept your eyes on Bob, pulling back and gasping before taking him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking on him harshly.
“Fuck!” he grunted as you gagged around him, your fingers tight on the base of his cock. He reached out, threading his fingers into your hair carefully, pulling you back, wiping the frothy saliva from your lips as you kneeled at his feet, chest heaving. “You like that?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yes, Mr. Floyd.”
His eyes darkened. “Open,” he commanded and you opened your mouth as Bob fisted himself, pushing his cock all the way into your mouth and throat, fingers holding the back of your head in a gentle cradle. “Now put that pretty little mouth to good use,” he whispered, “and make me cum down your throat.”
Bob watched as you placed your hands on his hips, steadying yourself, using your head and neck to bob back and forth on his cock, sucking his length repeatedly.
Your right hand slid around the base of his cock, jerking the parts of him that wouldn’t fit into your mouth as you groaned, the vibrations sending Bob into the stratosphere. As you became more comfortable, you reached down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tightly before letting go as Bob panted above you.
Bob’s hand cradled your head and you opened wider as you felt him taking control, snapping his hips forward, thrusting his cock deep into your throat, causing you to sputter around him. “You can take it,” he murmured, pulling out a few inches before filling your mouth and throat again. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. Now make me cum.”
You nodded, eyes watery, and Bob groaned, one of his hands bracing himself against the wall, the other preventing your head from hitting the wooden paneling as he drove his cock into your throat, letting out a string of curse words as you felt him stutter above you, his hot cum filling your throat and mouth, spilling out of the corners of your lips, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your cheeks.
Bob collapsed forward, resting his forehead on his arm, pushing his cock deeper into you one last time before pulling out as you swallowed his salty spend. He leaned back, panting, and swiped one thumb over your lips. “Come here.”
You stood, slightly wobbly, and inhaled sharply as Bob spun you around, placing his hands over yours against the wall. There was the sound of him pulling his pants back on, clicking the buckle, before his hands were back on your waist, thick fingers slipping into the lacy garter band, one hand traveling up and cupping your breast as he pressed against you from behind, his breath warm in your ear.
“Tell me what you want.”
Your eyes were closed. All that you could feel were Bob’s hands exploring your body. “You.” It was a whisper.
Bob spun you around until your back was against the wall and your eyes popped open. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on you, his fingers wrapping around your waist.
The next minute you were in Bob’s arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips still on yours as he carried you through the living room, down the hall toward the master bedroom.
You had been in Bob Floyd’s bedroom once before.
A few years back, Anna had invited you over for a sleepover when Bob was away for a work trip. Her mother was also busy, which led the two of you to stay in the house alone. Anna had suggested sleeping in Bob’s room because it had a large TV mounted over the fireplace.
But after the movie marathon and once Anna fell asleep, you snuck off to the bathroom, opening a bottle of Bob’s cologne, inhaling his scent, wondering what it would be like to smell him up close.
As he laid you down on the king bed, you caught a whiff of that familiar cologne. Duc De Vervins Houbigant. You could clearly picture the sheer green and gold bottle. You had never thought you'd get this close to him.
Bob laid you down carefully. You sat up on your elbows, looking at him as he stood at the edge of the bed. Gently, Bob placed one hand on each of your knees, spreading your legs apart, his hands smoothing over the lace of your thigh highs, up to the garter straps which he snapped against your skin. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to your exposed stomach, kissing the skin. You felt anticipation and desire pooling between your legs as Bob’s fingers dug into your hips.
“Please,” you begged and Bob lifted his head.
“Please what?”
You wanted to blush or feel embarrassment, but you couldn’t. Not with the way that Bob was looking at you. Like you were the only person he had eyes for. “Please fuck me Mr. Floyd.”
He practically growled. Bob leaned back, standing up straight and lifting off his sweater to reveal a pair of perfect abs. He looked better than any boy you had ever fucked, even at forty, and you found your mouth watering as he removed his pants, cock hard again. Bob kicked away the discarded clothes, crawling onto the bed, hovering over you before bending over, ripping the lace of your bra down to expose your nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking harshly as you writhed beneath him.
“Oh!”
He licked the bud, nipping at it gently, as your hips jumped up uncontrollably, a throaty moan falling out of your mouth. Bob popped off of your nipple with a smirk, reaching beneath you and unclasping the bra, tearing it off and tossing it on the ground. His large hands massaged your bare breasts before one hand trailed down, brushing over the lace garter, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.
Bob’s thick finger slid over your slick folds and you cried out as he nudged your clit before sinking down, teasing at your opening.
He pushed his finger into your cunt as you whimpered beneath him, the only sounds in the room were your pants and the loud smack of Bob’s knuckle hitting your opening as your juices dripped down to his wrist, your walls gripping his finger tightly. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, adding a second finger, stretching you wide as you twitched below him, pressing up against the heel of his hand, desperate for more contact. “Shh,” he whispered condescendingly. “You’ll cum when I want you to.”
You let out a groan, flopping back on the bed, letting Bob finger fuck you, hard, until you could feel yourself building to an orgasm.
And then he pulled out as you gasped, raising his fingers to his lips, sucking them dry before reaching down and tearing the panties at the side, flinging them off the bed.
Bob looked down at you. His gaze was so intense your first instinct was to look away. But instead you skimmed your fingers over his bicep where he had one arm outstretched near your head. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, groaning as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your wet core brushing against his erection.
“Darlin’,” he murmured. “You’ve never been fucked properly a day in your life, have you?”
You shook your head.
Bob reached over for a condom, tearing it open and rolling it over himself seamlessly. He dropped down to his forearm, face close to yours, other hand stroking your hip gently before maneuvering his cock until the tip was pressing against your entrance. “You want to stop, we stop,” he said softly. You nodded and Bob sank into your wet pussy, filling every inch of you as you whimpered, burying your face in his chest, small grunts as he pressed further inside, holding behind your knee, sinking into you.
Once he was fully sat inside of you, Bob moaned.
“Fuck me,” he muttered, brushing the hair back from your face, fingers resting on your cheeks, thumb pushing away the small tears that had gathered at the corner of your eye. “You’re so fucking tight.” You whined as he pulled back an inch, thrusting back into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he plunged into your wet, welcoming cunt, a low string of curses on his tongue as he felt you stretch around him, your hands on his biceps, grounding yourself to him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, “fucking take this cock.”
“Bob!” You screamed as he leaned back on his knees, scooping up beneath you and pulling your chest in toward him until you were straddling him on the bed, Bob holding you steady as he fucked into you, your bare breasts slapping against his chest.
He grunted. “Fuck, yes, God you feel so fucking good.”
You wound your arms around Bob’s neck, your eyes on his as he held you close, his cock brushing that small spongy part inside of you that made you start wailing in pleasure. “Yes, yes!”
“Don’t cum,” he growled and your eyes filled with tears as he slowed down, pulling you off of him.
“What?”
“Get on your hands and knees,” he demanded and you turned over, scooting your ass back toward him, practically screaming as he filled you again in one thrust, his hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. “Good girl,” Bob said as you tipped your head down, feeling his sticky thighs press against the back of your own legs, his balls smacking your puffy, aching pussy lips.
“Please,” you begged, snaking one arm down, your fingers finding your sopping wet clit.
Bob grabbed your arm, pinning it to your stomach, pulling you up until your back was pressed against his chest, his arm tight against your chest, fingers gripping your left breast tightly. “You need to learn, Y/N,” he said, smoothing his other hand down between your legs as he continued to thrust into you from behind, “that a real man makes his woman beg, but he doesn't make her work for her orgasm. Now spread your legs for me, baby.”
You tipped your head back as Bob’s fingers brushed over where you craved them the most, instantly finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the bud. “Fuck, oh my god, oh holy shit, yes please.”
Bob’s voice was throaty in your ear, his lips hot against the skin of your neck. “Cum all over my cock, baby. Fucking soak me.”
And then you were screaming, hot desire pooling in your stomach, bursting, your breath stalling as your breath caught in your throat and Bob pumped himself into you as your legs shook.
You started to fall forward but he caught you with both arms as you rode out your high on his cock, your body trembling with the aftershocks.
Bob loosened his grip on you, laying you down gently before rolling you over again, this time never letting his cock fall from between your legs as he repositioned the two of you so he was hovering above you, cock plunging into your exhausted cunt.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurred, head dipped down, kissing your neck as you whined. “Can you cum for me again, baby? Milk my cock.”
You were spent. But then Bob lifted his head, his gaze locked on yours, and his lips found yours, kissing you deeply, his free hand coming back between your bodies, thumb pressing gently over your clit as you whimpered into his mouth.
“That’s it,” Bob said, “right there darlin’. Want to watch you while I fucking fill you.”
He thrusted into you, hard, as his thumb slid over your clit and you found yourself shaking around him once again, crying out as Bob groaned loudly, hips stuttering, filling the condom with his hot cum as your walls massaged him, clinging to him tightly, your fingertips sliding down his sweaty and toned back, pulling him closely. Your leg was hooked around his waist and he collapsed onto you, face buried in your neck, his cock slowly softening inside of you as your heartbeat continued to rage on.
After a few seconds, Bob leaned up, pulling out of you slowly. You winced as he removed his cock, feeling empty and sore as he discarded the condom.
Bob laid back on the bed and instinctively you rolled into his side, slinging one leg over his thigh, head resting between his shoulder and arm. His fingertips stroked your side. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Was that good for you?” you asked quietly.
Bob chuckled, and your head bounced around at the movement. “Yes, honey, it was good. It was better than good. You’re so fucking sexy.” He smoothed one hand over your waist. “I want to fuck you everywhere, every way that I can, until you can’t remember what it was like to fuck anyone else.”
You smiled. “Trust me, I’m not going to forget this.”
Bob grinned, sliding out of bed carefully. You frowned but he held out one hand. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up.”
In the bathroom, Bob turned on the enormous two-person shower as you unclipped your thigh highs and garter, stepping into the marble shower, Bob joining you a second later, shutting the door. You stood under the hot water, letting it smooth over your skin and hair before turning to him. Bob looked at you with such an intensity you thought you might melt.
“Y/N,” he grumbled. You cocked your head to the side. “Sit down.” Bob pointed to the marble built-in seat on one side of the shower. You sat down with a frown. But then Bob sank to his knees, nudging open your legs, and you grinned. “I can’t stand it. I have to taste you.”
You leaned back with a loud moan as Bob’s sharp tongue flicked over your folds, finding your clit, circling the puffy, exhausted nerve as his large hands held your knees apart. “Mr. Floyd,” you begged and Bob looked up, eyes dark.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“You gonna make me cum again?”
Bob smirked. “As many times as I can, until you can’t even stand anymore.”
And then he was back between your legs, one finger in your cunt as his tongue flicked in circles over your clit while you leaned back, crying out when the heat started to pool in your stomach, threatening to break. “Mr. Floyd!” you screamed as you came all over his face, his lips and chin dripping with your cum when he pulled back, your thighs shaking.
Bob pulled you to standing, spinning you around until your hands were on the cool marble wall of the shower as he nudged your legs apart, rubbing his hard, massive cock against your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp slap as you gasped. “Are you clean?” he asked.
You nodded. “And I have an IUD.”
“Good.” Bob reached down, sinking into you in two quick thrusts, stuffing you impossibly deep as you groaned. “I’m going to fill you up, make you mine.” And then the two of you were gasping, panting, moaning as he fucked you from behind, your bare breasts pressing against the cool marble, Bob’s grunts loud in your ear as he lost himself inside of you. “Fucking perfect pussy,” he whispered, “so fucking tight, how does it feel to be fucked by a man, hmm princess? Could a boy ever make you feel like this?”
“Only you,” you whimpered, one cheek squished against the shower wall as Bob railed you from behind.
“Say it again.”
“Only your cock, Mr. Floyd!”
“That’s my girl,” he groaned, fingertips gripping your hips so hard you knew they’d leave bruises but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the unbelievable pleasure of having Bob Floyd fuck you senseless. “Where do you want me to cum?”
“Cum in me,” you begged. “Please?”
“Fuck.” Bob’s hips lifted and he cried out, spilling his warm cum inside of you, painting your walls, thrusting a few more times sloppily as your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop from his hard cock on his way down.
After the shower, Bob gave you a towel and you wrapped yourself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He appeared in the doorway in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, towel drying his hair.
“Did you bring pajamas?” he asked.
You cringed. You had brought everything else: makeup, makeup remover wipes, an extra pair of shoes, clothes for the next day. But you had forgotten pajamas. You shook your head.
Bob nodded, stepping toward a wooden chest of drawers and pulling out a long sleeved henley, handing it to you, along with a pair of boxers. You pulled them on as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you hungry?”
You were starving. In the kitchen, Bob pulled out the makings for a grilled cheese and you sat on the counter, legs swinging against the lower cabinets, watching him prepare the sandwiches. How many times had you done the exact same thing as Anna raced around, making the two of you an afternoon snack?
Bob flipped the sandwiches in the pan and then turned to you. “What are you thinking?”
“You’re not going to tell Anna, right?”
He shook his head. “Of course not.”
“Because it doesn’t mean anything?”
Bob’s gaze hardened. “Is that what you think?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what you wanted? Just sex. Just tonight.”
Bob lifted the sandwiches onto plates and turned off the burner. He stepped closer, placing his large hands on your knees. You thought back to twenty minutes ago when he had done the same thing in the shower and despite the fact that you had three orgasms under your belt for the night, excitement and lust started to creep into your bloodstream again. “Y/N,” he said, voice low and slow and it made your body ripple with excitement just hearing your name on his lips. “You mean something. You’re not just some random woman. I care about you.”
Your heart lifted.
Bob’s fingers pressed tightly against your skin before lifting off. He handed you a plate. “Now eat your sandwich, please. So I can take you to bed and fuck you again.”
You bit into the sandwich and groaned. It was good. Almost as good as the feeling of being fucked by Bob Floyd.
Bob stood on the opposite side of the kitchen, casually leaning up against the counter, eating his sandwich, his eyes never leaving yours.
You finished your grilled cheese, rinsed off the plate and washed your hands. Bob did the same and you smirked at him. “Mr. Floyd?”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“Can I suck your cock again?”
Bob smiled. “Still hungry, huh?” he asked. “Go on then, get on your knees, sweetheart. Make daddy cum.”
Tag list (also reusing my list from Friend Don't aka my general Bob list so if you don't want to be tagged in Bob fics going forward just let me know!): @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @teacupsandtopgun @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @yanna-banana @whisperofsong @marvelshauntedhouse @that1nerd-20
@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav
@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue
@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston
@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @shanimallina87
@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox
@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16
@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46
@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation
@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @emorychase @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @evans-dejong @storysimp @emma8895eb @briseisgone @katiedid-3 @beacheybabes97 @mandylove1000
#dilf bob floyd#dilf bob#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd x reader#bob+floyd+x+reader#bob floyd smut#bob fucks#top gun fanfiction#top gun x reader#top gun smut
657 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sex on The Beach (What a Treat)
Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader
Description: You love being a part of the Dagger Squad, but you're well aware there isn't a lot going for you as a woman. You go out on dates - often. But none of those men every meet the mark. Can one drunken night on the beach and one gorgeously bespectacled WSO change your mind? Only the ocean and its waves and your own beating heart can say.
Themes: Virginity, First time, Dirty Talk, Jake has a surprisingly terrible sex story (it's right in the beginning)
Warnings: Bob Fucks!
Word Count: 3291
A/N: This fic is wholly self-indulgent and came to me in an ovulating daydream right in time for @attapullman's International Bob Floyd Fucks Month! I hope you all enjoy it! I'm proud enough to say that yes indeed, Bob Floyd fucks!
Thanks to @horseshoegirl for beta reading this fic for me and telling me that I wasn't writing Bob terribly.
My Masterlist
AO3: Cross-posted Here!
Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!
The night is cool and clear. A salty breeze rifles through your hair and dampens your face in soft gusts. It’s late, but on the other side of the bonfire, the other Daggers are continuing the party. A part of you is sure the party will still be going when the sun rises. You’re drunk, inhabiting that state of being between tipsy and drunk off your ass. Your cheeks feel hot, and your tongue is uncooperative. You’re not sure when the conversation veered right into a discussion of sex, but it did. You’re also not sure why you’re helplessly giggling about sex with Phoenix and Hangman, of all people.
“And then she bit me!”
You and Nat take one look at each other and cackle. You inhale a little and giggle out, “D-did she really bite your…?”
Jake nods ruefully, a blush rising on his chest as Nat falls back with another delighted peal of laughter. You’re not sure you can look at the man when he looks like he’s still in pain just at the memory of what happened. His blush seems to intensify the more your delighted laughter rings out, and every time you look at Nat, it sets you off again and again. You feel like you can barely breathe; you’re laughing so hard.
When you gasp for breath and sip your drink, your cheeks feel hot, and you can feel the sweat on your temples. You hold the frosty bottle up to your face in a futile attempt to cool off a little. It’s not like you’re wearing too many clothes, choosing to sling on an unbuttoned shirt and a pair of cutoffs over your bikini when the night cooled.
“You know, you’re laughing awfully hard for a girl who hasn’t said a word. We’ve heard from Tash. You’ve obviously heard from me. It’s your turn.”
All of a sudden, your mirth dies off, instead turning into a cold sweat prickling across your exposed skin. You’re trapped in their gazes, Nat’s whiskey eyes staring you down coolly amused while Jake’s absinthe-colored orbs seem to glare right through you.
“Come on, Artemis.”
When Nat begins to plead along with Jake, you cover your face with your fingers and collapse until you can hide your face in your knees.
“Seriously, Artie. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, I’d love to know if you can top getting bitten on the dick mid-blowjob!”
“Seeing as how I don’t have a dick, that would be kind of hard, Bagman!” You deadpan.
But neither of them is pleased with your only input to the conversation so far. They keep needling you, poking and prying. Jake keeps calling you Artie, too, like only he ever has. Ultimately, that’s what has you lifting your head and glaring right at him.
“Don’t call me Artie!” You point at the grinning blond and wag your index finger.
“There she is!” When your glare narrows, he mimes, zipping his lips closed.
You can’t make eye contact as you spit out in a low hiss barely audible over the hissing fire, “I-I’ve never had sex before. I’m a virgin.”
But they heard you, if the wide-eyed glances they share are any indication.
“How is that possible?”
Nat wraps an arm around your shoulders. You shrug, staring into the distance behind Jake’s head. Unconsciously, the three of you have gravitated to the spokes of a triangle, your legs tangled in the center of the blanket in a pile of sand-encrusted limbs. You’re pretty sure you’ve got Jake’s foot poking into your shin, and one of Nat’s legs is slung across yours.
“I’m always going out on dates, so that can’t possibly be true, right?”
But, you have to snort just remembering those dates. “Those guys have always just fallen flat. They’re perfectly nice, decent guys. But we never seem to click. There’s no spark when they kiss me clumsily goodnight outside my front door.”
“Maybe you need to look a little bit closer to home for that kind of intimacy?”
Your head snaps up at the sudden loud, obnoxious tone in Jake’s voice.
“C’mon Tash. Our Artie is a little boring right now. What do you say we go grab a few more drinks?”
You’re too drunk for this shit, and you’re grumbling that fact as you watch Jake and Nat trip and lean over each other as they walk toward the other Daggers. In truth, it would probably make sense if something was going on between the two of them, though you wouldn’t bet on it.
“Y-you’re a virgin?”
The words are said so quietly you half think they’re a figment of your imagination. But you know that voice too well to think you're dreaming.
“But you’re so pretty, Artemis. Those men didn’t deserve you, not at all.”
You smile and pat the blanket with your hand. Bob sits gingerly on the edge of the blanket with his back to the Daggers.
“It’s nice of you to say so, Bob.” His cheeks are pink, and his blue eyes are dark and deep as they stare into your own.
“I’m serious. If it were me, I’d have kissed you until your head was spinning, and those pretty lips were all swollen for me.” You can’t breathe for a completely different reason in comparison to all those minutes ago. You can smell whiskey on his breath, coupled with the smokey sweetness of the bonfire and the floral notes from his cologne.
“Why haven’t you, Bob?”
“I’ve seen the guys you go out with, Sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you can see stars reflect in his lenses, refracting over navy eyes, as he tips his dark blonde head back. “They’re sexy, suave, and debonaire. Why would you pick me over one of them?”
The self-deprecation in his voice has your mood sobering unexpectedly fast.
“You’re just as sexy, suave, and debonaire as they are, Bob.” He snickers gently at your phrasing.
“You don’t really believe that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Unconsciously, you lean forward, needing to get closer to him. One of his hands rises to cup your cheek, and your eyes flutter.
“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” you muse.
He hums, and his big thumb swipes gently across your cheek.
“Maybe it’s because I haven’t trusted any of the men I go out with.”
“And you trust me?”
“Yes.”
The moment feels electric, like sparks skittering across your skin. Bob’s eyes keep glancing over your lips. The alcohol flowing through your veins frees your inhibitions as you stand and brush sand off of the back of your shorts. Bob blinks at your sudden movement, mouth parted sweetly as you reach for his hands. When he’s standing, he runs his hands through his hair, leaving minute grains interspersed through the golden threads. You can feel his gaze on your skin as you bunch the blanket over your forearm.
“Come here.” You take his hand in yours, gently tugging him away from the bonfire and your friends. Nobody notices your disappearance, which suits you just fine. You make for the little lifeguard shack a couple hundred feet down the beach and lay the blanket out in its shadow.
“What're we doing all the way out here?”
Instead of responding, you fist your hands in his shirt and tug his mouth down until it meets yours. The kiss starts clumsy and bumbling, just a brush of skin to skin. It feels like Bob is trying to figure out how genuine you are, so you keep the pressure light. Already, this tender, fumbling kiss is a million times better for you than those first kisses with those other guys. When Bob gasps and his big hands curl around your hips, you moan.
That small sound leaving your mouth makes Bob wild. His hand wraps around the base of your skull as he licks into your mouth. It feels like you're burning up, skin bursting fever hot just at his touch. His hands divest you of your button-down and your shorts; his fingers are studied and quick as he whispers filth into your ears. His tongue traces hot over your pulse, sucking and nibbling and teasing. You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, whimpering as you rub your thighs together.
“You’re so beautiful for me, my lovely Ari.” His eyes are dark now, just a thin rim of blue wrapped around his pupils as he presses you down onto the blanket.
You’re keening, babbling his name as you straighten his glasses. There's a fond, tender look in Bob's eyes as he dips down to kiss you again.
“Shhh, darling.” His mouth drags wet over your collarbones. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
When his calloused fingers drag your bikini top away, you shiver. Your nipples are peaked and hard as he gazes down at you. It should feel weird being so exposed to a colleague and friend, but all you want is to feel the hard length in his swim shorts pressed up against you.
It's not a choice at all as you mewl, “Please.”
You could fall in love with Bob Floyd's smile, the smirk covering his face when he's feeling confident. When he wraps his lips around the peak of your breast, licking at the swollen flesh with his hot, wet tongue, you’re sure you could fall in love with his mouth, too. You feel like you’re drowning as Bob Floyd kisses over your stomach, placing tender kisses across the stretch marks slicing silver over your skin, as he kneads at your ass with big hands before undoing the knots of your bikini bottoms with his teeth. When the fabric falls away, you exhale, unsure when you started to hold your breath when you know you will need it. You can feel the heat of his breath against that most intimate of places, making you squirm.
“I've got you, Ari.” Even the endearment he's chosen, based on your unfortunate callsign, makes you ache for him. “Mmmm, you're so wet for me.”
His fingers dip gently through your folds, the slow, languid motions making something simmer in your veins. His fingers already feel different from your own, filling your sopping cunt in ways that your own can’t. The brush of his tongue over your clit has your hands burying in his hair, tugging at the soft strands. But his mouth doesn't stay there, nipping at your hips, the tender skin between your thighs, at the soft skin where your pelvis meets your legs. You lose yourself in the feeling of his mouth, babbling his name in whispers and moans. The buildup of your orgasm is already different from when you use your fingers; it is more intense and more fulfilling. When he traces figure eights over your clit with his tongue, you come hard, thighs shaking at the effort of holding them open around his head.
“So beautiful when you come,” he rasps. His glasses are fogged, and his lips are slicked with your release as he settles in between your parted legs. You tug Bob into a kiss, sliding your arms around his neck until his weight rests on you. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you slowly and sweetly.
“Are you sure you want me to do this for you, sweetheart?” His cheeks are pink, his hair falling onto his forehead as he growls the words out.
“All you have to do is tell me, beautiful.” When he nuzzles your breasts and lays an open-mouthed kiss over the peaks, you’re more sure than ever. “We can stop the minute you’re not comfortable anymore. This is about you, after all.”
“Come here, Bobby.”
He looks almost startled as you pull him back into a kiss, sliding your hands under the fitted shirt he’s been wearing all day. His skin is warm and silky smooth, lean muscles flexing under your curious touch.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” You’re whining as you drag the shirt up, and you have to moan when he finally yanks it off. His hair is standing up on end, and his glasses are askew, but right now, you're not sure there is a sexier man on the planet.
“Fuck, you’re hot, Bob.”
His blush deepens, eyes wide at your horny declaration.
“I mean it.”
You tug at the knot of your bikini, wrestling with the strings with clumsy fingers.
“Come here, sweetheart. I’ll get the knot for you.”
You should feel ashamed, naked out on the beach where anyone could happen to see you. But you’re not ashamed at all. His hands gently pushing your hair over your shoulder and his mouth kissing the nape of your neck are why. When the triangles of fabric fall from your skin, you turn and kiss Bob again. You could get drunk off of the feeling of his lips against yours, off the way he licks into your mouth. Emboldened by the look in his eyes, you let your hands trail down until they dip below the waistband of his swim shorts.
“God, sweetheart. There you go.” He’s grunting and gasping against your mouth as you wrap your hands around him. For the first time since you kissed Bob, you feel a little out of your depths. He’s big, so big that you need both hands to hold him, big enough you’re not sure he’ll fit. When you voice your worries in a quiet, gasping whisper, he chuckles.
“It’ll fit in that pretty pussy, baby. Just gotta work you up good, and it’ll slide right on in.”
You squeak as he lays you down again because, for the first time, you can hear his accent as he drawls out the words. From this angle, your mouth parts in shock at the sight of him. Bob’s biting at his lip as he rolls a condom on, and that sight makes you giggle a little.
“Of course, you have a condom on you.”
When he snickers, you know you’re going to want more of this with him. “I, um… Jake gave it to me.”
You cover your face with your hands and squeal a little more.
“He’s been trying to get me to ask you out for months now, darling. I wish I’d known a few shots of tequila and a conversation about sex would be all it would take.”
“Are you calling me easy, Bob Floyd?” You’re pouting, but it doesn’t last for long as he seems to blanche at your teasing. When you laugh, he dips down to kiss you, and you hum at how good it feels.
“I think we’re both a little easy for each other. All we needed was a little push.”
He runs his hands up your thighs, smoothing over the flesh as he parts your legs a little more.
“It’s your last chance to stop this, Ari. You just have to tell me.” You can feel him hard against you as he kisses you again. “We can get dressed and just walk back to the bonfire. Maybe we can try again later.”
“We’re not stopping, not now, Bob.”
Your voice isn’t exactly firm, more breathy than anything, but it makes Bob smile. He guides himself into you, and from the first press, you’re sure you’ve never felt so full. It doesn’t hurt, but it does feel uncomfortable.
“Fuck, you’re tight, sweetheart.” There’s sweat beading up on his temples, and his jaw is tight as he growls out the words. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
“Relax for me, baby.” You melt when he kisses you, shivering at the feeling of his bare skin pressing into yours. He rubs gently at your sides, calloused fingers gentle as they pluck at your nipples. It’s when he kisses you again that you relax. Inch by slow, incremental inch, Bob fills you. He kisses you when you tense around his length, a WSO’s patience and talent filling each heavy moment.
When he bottoms out in you, you feel like a live wire. The sparks floating across your skin are back, arcing through your veins until they’re molten with lust. The first few times he pulls out of you and presses in again, it feels just as uncomfortable as that first slow slide. When his fingers find your clit and massage it in counter rhythm to the push-pull of his cock, you gasp, open-mouthed and silent. All of a sudden, it feels so good; you couldn’t describe it if you tried.
“Fuck,” Bob’s vocal in bed. You wouldn’t think it, looking at him. It’s also incredibly flattering. “You’re so tight for me, Ari. Fuck, baby girl. Your pussy’s perfect. I’m so lucky.”
You’re gasping and moaning, trying desperately to quell the feral sounds spilling out of your mouth. Each thrust has your fingers scrabbling for purchase in the beach blanket under you, knuckles whitening under the pressure. Unbidden, you can feel your orgasm cresting, stronger than the last.
“Bob,” You’re nearly sobbing because everything you feel is nearly too much to handle. “Please, Bobby. Gonna cum!”
When those talented fingers find their way to your swollen clit and massage it, you come. His hips stutter even as your legs wrap around his waist, and he roars against your chest as he comes after you. You feel like you’ve been stunned. If this is what sex feels like, you’re not sure why you waited as long as you did. Or maybe it’s not just the sex that was mind-blowing, but the man you just had sex with? He’s blushing again, sweat dripping down his chest as he helps you dress with slow deliberate motions. You steal kisses whenever you can, because, yeah, you're falling in love with his mouth and his tongue and his voice.
“Got to get you cleaned up before we head back to the bonfire. C’mon, Ari.”
After everything you’ve done with Robert Floyd, holding hands shouldn’t make you giggle so much. But you need his helping hand in more ways than one. There’s already a dull ache at the base of your spine, but you refuse to let that feeling beat you.
Unfortunately, Bob leads you back toward the parking lot, squeezing your fingers and smiling softly at you as you lean onto him. But everything is dark and silent the closer you get. The bonfire is glowing embers in the sand, and all of the cars are gone from the parking lot. Your bag is sitting in the tailgate of Bob’s truck, and you have text messages on the device explaining how everyone has headed out. They’re from at least an hour ago.
He better be good to you, Artie.
Jake’s message is the only one in which your friends allude to knowing what happened between you and Bob. When you turn back around, Bob’s biting at his bottom lip, worrying the flesh with his teeth. His hands are in his pockets, and for the first time, he seems anxious.
“Can I take you home, Ari?”
You hum, tugging his mouth down to yours for another kiss.
“Take me home, Bob.” Your voice is a whisper as you let Bob crowd you against his truck.
“I can do that, Ari. But, can I also take you to dinner sometime, sweetheart?”
“Yes, please.” You shiver as he kisses your pulse. “But only if I get your big dick again, Bobby.”
He swats your ass as he helps you into the cab of the truck.
“Everything I am is yours, baby girl.”
This sounds like the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Though, given the chance, you’re going to avoid having sex on the beach again. Sand rubbing you raw isn't quite so fun when you'd rather have Bob do that for you.
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
Taglist:
@shanimallina87 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32
#star writes#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob x reader#robert floyd x reader#bob fucks#international bob floyd fucks month
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.
Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry
Length: 11k words (what have I done?)
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader
This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was.
He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.
When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"
"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."
Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place.
He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"
The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."
"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."
"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."
You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.
"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."
"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."
Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted.
By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.
"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."
Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth.
Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."
And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.
--------------------------
For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection.
He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely.
"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"
"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"
"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."
They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.
That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."
"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit.
"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."
As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes.
Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you.
Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.
He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.
On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that.
On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."
Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."
A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it.
"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."
"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding.
"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him.
He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."
You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."
"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned.
"Okay. Bob."
He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"
When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."
-------------------------
You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him.
"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."
You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"
"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.
You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing."
Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"
"Yes."
The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited.
"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"
Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."
"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.
"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."
"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.
"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled.
But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.
On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.
I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.
He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner.
He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.
Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.
It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."
Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.
He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress.
"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called.
His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to.
"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle.
"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause.
You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."
Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"
After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.
"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.
You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."
Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."
This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more.
"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob."
He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."
Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."
He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"
"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."
Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."
"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."
Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate?
He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers.
"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before.
Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed.
"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.
"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck.
You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh.
"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled.
"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.
"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"
Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"
You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"
Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.
Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them.
"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled.
"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips.
"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."
You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.
"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink.
"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.
"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films."
Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.
Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"
You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly.
And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."
"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer.
But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.
"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"
"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."
"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.
Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."
He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.
"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.
Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone.
Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you.
"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.
----------------------------
Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.
You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.
You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.
You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta.
You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend.
"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower.
The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy.
You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door.
Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.
"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses.
"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."
You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."
Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"
You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?"
The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."
You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"
His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."
You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."
He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"
As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."
Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."
"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me."
You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."
Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered.
He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."
He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"
He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."
You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper.
As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"
"Okay."
He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.
---------------------------
Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.
"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red.
"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh.
"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."
Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."
Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat.
"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"
"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.
Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him.
"Lieutenant Floyd."
He smiled softly. "Good morning."
"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.
You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"
He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."
Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."
--------------------------
You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.
"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he?
"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important.
The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."
His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?"
Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.
You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine.
"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.
"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you.
You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."
When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel."
Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.
You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"
At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.
"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.
----------------------------
It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question.
"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."
You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"
He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."
Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good.
As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection.
Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"
He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."
"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.
He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him.
You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."
It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."
"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."
Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.
He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."
Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."
He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"
You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"
"Yes."
It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement.
Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."
And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name.
He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.
Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.
His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"
You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."
---------------------------
Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you.
Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous.
"Is it okay if I taste you?"
All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure.
Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit.
When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.
Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."
A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!"
All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face.
"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."
"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before.
You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me."
His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess."
The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded.
"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"
His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder.
His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more.
You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.
"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."
"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."
He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."
He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend."
You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.
Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."
He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."
-------------------------
Six months later...
After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.
As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher.
"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.
"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."
Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him.
"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."
"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."
"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."
"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too."
You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house.
This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"
"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.
"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"
Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her.
You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."
---------------------------
Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!
@theamuz
@cherrycola27
@katiedid-3
@bradshawsbitch
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-magnolia
@avaleineandafryingpan
@t-nd-rfoot
@wkndwlff
@eddiemunsonreader
@wintercap89
@the-fever-of-mankind
@sio-ina-bottle
@lovingperfectionsblog
@daisydont-lie
@sappy-seresin
@birdy-bat-writes
@cutelittlefakejourneys
@cottagecori
@fandom-princess-forevermore
@sotalife
@novastories
@xoxabs88xox
@rileyanntoinette
@mannsachds
@midnightmagpiemama
@greatszu
@zetasaturno99
@lovingrobertfloyd
@taytaylala12
@captain-fandomwriter58
@grxcisxhy-wp
@hobireasns
@wolfquake23
@ohgodnotagainn
@smileybouquet
@paintlavillered
@seitmai
@tigermoon3
@noonenuts
@amiets2
#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x you#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd smut#bob floyd#bob x reader#bob fucks#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#explicitly yours#international bob floyd fucks month
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: Of course Bob has a family. It was obvious. Phoenix knew that that and did everything in her power to ensure he got back to them. So, she had to meet his wife and son.
A trip to the Hard Deck gives his son a new fascination and his wife a chance to reconnect with an old college...friend? Boyfriend? Whatever, it doesn't annoy Bob at all.
Tags: Family Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Parenthood, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Hint of Jealousy, Spanking
Song Recommendation: Need You Here by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME
Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd Masterlist - here
└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘
Phoenix knew Bob had a family. He hadn't said anything but she knew. His lockscreen was of a pretty girl with a little blond boy who had to be around six months old in her arms, the pair smiling at the cameraman in the way her mother and her would look at her father.
And up in the sky, he kept two photos in his station. That same pretty girl in a white dress resting her head on the suited shoulder of a very dapper looking Bob. Next to that was a sonogram.
It was clear. Clear as day. He didn't need to say anything.
Part of Nat wanted to somehow convince her backseater to go home, to not put his life on the line and ensure that he lived to see his son grow up. Especially after the bird strike. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and yell, "Go back to your wife, you fucking idiot."
But she couldn't do that. One, that's overstepping boundaries. And two, it was Bob's choice. He could've walked away when he heard how dangerous it was. He didn't. Bob knew the risks so this must've been his decision.
Therefore, Lieutenant Trace made it her personal mission to get Lieutenant Floyd back to his family. And she did. After Nat sets her mind to something, she uses all of her focus on getting it done.
Once all was said and done, Bob found himself alive and dancing stupidly as Maverick and Rooster landed safely. In all the cheering and revelry, Bob pulled his friend into a huge bear hug, which was something she never expected, and thanked her profusely for taking such good care of him. Then they both just stood there like fools and laughed like loons until everyone eventually calmed down.
"Nat, uh, are you going to the Hard Deck later?" Bob asked as they waited to dock, nudging his shoulder into hers.
"Probably. Are you?"
"No. The second we get to land, I'm running - and I mean running - to see my wife. And Finley, my son." He got his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her so she could have a proper look at his lockscreen. "I understand if you'd rather spend tonight with everyone else, but do you want to meet them?"
Weirdly, outright admitting that he family was like a weight being lifted off his chest. It's not as if it was a secret in any way. He didn't try to hide the fact. Honestly, he doubted that his colleagues would care one way or another.
But now? After everything they'd been through together, he knew Phoenix cared. She wouldn't show it on the surface, but he could read between the lines. They were more than coworkers. They were friends now, and friends that ensured the other's survival. And while it was unlikely either of them ever talked about their feelings, they understood. They were there for each other, no matter what.
"You know I'm going to hit on your wife, right? She's hot," Nat teased him, laughing when he pretended to punch her.
Her voice got softer as she focused on little Finley. "He looks like you. Has the same eyes, same hair..." she murmured.
She saw Bob watching her, too, with a softness in his eyes. A longing to be back with them. To be holding his family again.
A tiny pair of hard plastic specs were placed on the boy's nose in the photo, causing Nat to tease, "Same eyesight, clearly."
"Finn sure looks like me, but he's chatty like Y/N, not that he can speak yet. He tries, and he tries an awful lot."
A chuckle escaped Bob's lips as he thought about the happy sounds of his son's babbling.
"And be warned, he will attempt to bite your nose. We don't know why. Every new person he meets, one second he's sitting quietly, the next, he's up on his feet and trying to take a nibble at their snout."
"Weird," Nat hummed in amusement.
Just as Bob said, as soon as they docked and could see their families, he drove them to the apartment his family stayed in whilst he was in Fightertown. The second the front door was open, a very distinct batch of high pitched giggles and the clumsy pitter patter of two tiny feet coming towards the aviators could be heard.
Finley, armed with a tiny fistful of 'Welcome Home' balloons, bounced towards his father and launched himself at Bob's legs. Bob dropped his backpack and scooped the baby up and gave a big squeeze.
"Hey, big guy!" he greeted cheerfully, kissing the top of Finley's head. The small boy looked up at him through his glasses and bumped his nose against his father's. "These balloons for me? Or are they for Phoenix?"
"So this is Phoenix?" Y/N chirped as she leant against the kitchen doorframe, looking down into the foyer with a huge smile. She pushed off to join them and immediately offered Phoenix a hug, which was accepted without hesitation. "Lovely to meet you. I've heard so much about everything you do, he tells me over dinner how you keep him in check."
Sincerely, as sincerely as she could make it, Y/N took Nat's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for taking care of my Bo."
Natasha smiled fondly before nudging Bob and jeering, "Bo, huh?"
"Shut it."
"You wouldn't believe my surprise when I found out that this dork has a supermodel for a wife," Nat flirted with a knowing smirk. Bob chuckled and shook his head in disbelief as Y/N waved off the compliment with a loud snort, but there was no denying how her cheeks grew a little pinker.
"Do you two want me to give you some space? I'll just step into the other room so I don't have to get cucked right in front of my and my son's eyes," Bob joked as he looked between the pair, swaying his son in his arms in long soothing motions. He beamed at his wife and asked, "Am I going to get some lovin' or what?"
Dropping Nat's hand after a quick pat on her knuckle, Y/N stood on her tiptoes to give Bob a chaste kiss on his lips. "You're gonna get plenty of lovin'," she promised, grinning cheekily and mimicking his accent.
Every time his parents kissed, Finley felt the need to get in there and surged his head forward. And, like usual, he fully headbutted the pair. It had happened so many times, yet the couple were never ready for it and both let out groans of pain and annoyance as he made contact, only to laugh afterwards.
"Oh, I missed ya too, munchkin," Bob cooed before gently putting Finley back on the floor. The tyke quickly ran into the living room, his father's balloons still in his hand, and began climbing onto the couch where his toys were eagerly waiting for him.
"That happens way too often," Y/N told Nat, smiling as she placed a kiss on the point of injury on Bob's nose. "How do you take your coffee, Phoenix?"
There was an ease of domesticity to their interactions which Phoenix found utterly captivating and adorable. She wasn't used to it. She wasn't used to casual affection, intimacy, even. Not from anyone, really. Her upbringing had been rather strict with its rigid social expectations as a lot of military families happen to be. Her parents never did anything casually and it felt odd to feel so relaxed in a home she'd never stepped foot in before.
"Black. One sugar."
As Y/N disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha looked around the apartment, her gaze stopping on one of the many frames lining the walls. A prom picture of very young and nervous looking Bob had his cheeks being teasingly pinched by Y/N, his face scrunched up as she laughed at him, was the first she really noticed.
Next to that an image of the pair when they were even younger, six, maybe seven. A wide grin stretched across tiny Bob's face as he posed in a fighting stance, clad in his Halloween costume, which was the blue power ranger - next to an equally fierce Y/N as she posed as the pink ranger next to him.
"Childhood sweethearts, huh?"
Bob nodded as he watched his son playing with his toys in the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I've been in love with Y/N since I knew what love was, probably even before that," he confessed with a chuckle. His smile grew even softer as he added, "Took a while for me to tell her, and I mean a while. Two and a half decades, actually."
Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "Two whole decades?!" she repeated in disbelief.
"I'm a nervous guy, okay?"
The aviators had a laugh at his expense, but had to cut it short as Bob quickly had to walk over to Finley to get him to stop trying to eat the corner of the coffee table. "What are you doing, you little freak?" Bob jeered at his boy, swooping him up in his arm and tickling him in retaliation until he let out a squeal of laughter. "Ahh, you're lucky I love you, little freak."
Finley reached his little hands out for his dad, trying to grab the fabric of his shirt as he wriggled desperately against Bob's grasp to escape the tickle attack. He was completely oblivious to Nat's amused expression as she observed the scene unfolding before her.
"I think he was born to be a dad," Y/N said as she appeared beside Nat with two cups of Joe in hand. She handed one to Natasha with a fond smile on her face, beaming as Bob began blowing raspberries on Finn's stomach. The little boy was practically hysterical as he kicked his legs frantically.
Y/N couldn't help but giggle as she watched Bob, and then turned to look at Nat, who was shaking her head in silent laughter at the scene. "Yeah, he seems to be pretty good at the whole thing," Nat agreed softly. She held the hot mug between her hands and brought the rim to her mouth to take a sip, sighing appreciatively as she felt warmth spread through her body.
After the day both Nat and Bob had, they needed any sort of comfort.
"Go, sit, sit," Y/N encouraged with a gesture of her hand and moved to place her coffee down on the coffee table. Then, almost like magic, she reached into her back pockets to retrieve two juice boxes, cooing as she held them both out to Bob, "One for Finley. And the other for dada."
Father and son looked identical as they slurped on their juice, side by side, and Phoenix almost thought Bob had been dolly the sheeped. It was spooky how similar the two looked, but it was definitely more on the cute side of things.
It was like Y/N knew that talking about the mission and everything it entailed would be distressing. The aviators needed some time to cool off before they had to deal with the fact that, yes, they could've died today. Watching a cute little baby was the best way to do that, it seemed.
Once he was finished with his juice, Finley finally noticed that Nat was there. He dramatically showed that he'd finished his drink to his mother and, in the process of looking at the other sofa, saw that there was another person there. A new person. A person he'd never seen before. A stranger.
Someone who was watching them with a warm smile. A friend, obviously. A gasp escaped Finley's lips as he put down his empty juice box on Bob's lap and scrambled down to the carpet so he could run at Phoenix, his excited squeals filling the room as he threw himself at her knees.
"You're definitely not as shy as your papa," she joked, lifting the boy so he could sit on the sofa next to her. He didn't stay seated for long and jumped up to stand on her thighs and rest his chin on her shoulders, gazing at the new girl with big curious eyes.
"Nose bite in 3...2...1," Y/N counted, and as both parents expected, Nat was promptly nipped on the tip of her nose by an eager child, giggling happily. Nat laughed as she rubbed the area.
"You little menace!" she whined playfully, giving Finn a playful tickle behind his neck and earning a delighted shriek, making him roll on the cushions as he laughed loudly.
Watching his new best friend interact with his son, Bob let out a happy sigh and placed his head against Y/N's shoulder. She gave him a loving peck on the temple and let her cheek fall to his hair. They sat quietly for a moment or two, enjoying the quiet atmosphere, each lost in their own thoughts.
Then, Natasha's phone made a noise. A ringtone that made it very clear who was calling her. The distinct sound of cockerel blared from her cell.
"Rooster?" Bob asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
"Yeah, mind if I take this?"
"Go for it."
Getting up and away from the boy seemed to be a task, but when Y/N cooed, "Finn...Finn, baby, what's mama got here? Is it chocolate?" Nat was free since, all of the sudden, the boy shot out of his seat and immediately rushed towards her. She lifted him onto her lap and reached for the mostly eaten packet of chocolate buttons they kept on the coffee table for moments like this, moments they needed something to bribe with.
"Does daddy get any?" Bob pouted in a fake pout, leaning forward slightly and resting his elbows on his thighs as he looked between his wife and son. Finn just grinned at him as he stuck his hand into the packet, offering one button to his father and intending to eat the rest for himself.
Bob took the treat and popped it into his mouth without hesitation as Y/N shook her head with a light blush. Finley looked up at her curiously, as if he was asking if she wanted a button too.
"Can mommy have a button?"
A chocolate button was soon being squished at her mouth, much to Finn's delight, as Y/N chuckled softly and accepted the offer. "Good boy, you're so good at sharing," she praised before she pressed a quick kiss to Finn's forehead and passed the packet back over to Finley who immediately started stuffing his face with the remaining sweets.
All too soon, the chocolate had run out and Finley was not happy about that at all. Y/N could tell just by his face that he was seconds away from crying, so she gently lifted him so he was resting his head against her shoulder and swayed them slowly together in a soothing rhythm.
Nothing in the world beat the sight of his family to Bob.
Before the baby came along, the couple would usually be already in bed and up to less innocent things. It always went that way. Bob would get home and immediately throw Y/N over his shoulder and carry her upstairs. Now that would have to wait until their son was firmly asleep.
Yet, Bob was completely fine with that. He'd hold out for a few hours if that ensured he got to see Finley's happy little smile.
"Rooster heard the words 'baby Bob' and demanded that I try to convince you guys to come with me to the Hard Deck," Phoenix explained as she returned, slipping her phone into her back pocket as she moved to sit back down.
Y/N glanced over at her husband as if to say 'up to you' and Bob nodded with a hearty, "Why not? Rooster gets whiny when he doesn't get his way."
"You should've seen him the other day when Maverick beat him at darts again," Natasha told him as she sipped from her coffee cup and glanced around. "He played a Wham! medley on the piano because he knows Pete is not their biggest fan."
And that was one of Brad's tamer days.
"Wanna go see Rooster, bud?"
Even though he had no idea what the hell a Rooster was, Finn nodded at his father.
After gathering a quick necessities bag and Bob ensuring that the car seat was in fact placed properly - which was something he did every car ride and found the same result every time - the squad was making their way to the bar. Nat had to be relegated to the backseats, a rare thing when it came to her and Bob, and she couldn't help but feel awkward when the child locks ensured that Y/N had to open her door for her.
Bradley was eagerly waiting for their arrival. He was good with children and he knew it. So was it any surprise that the moment Finley saw the Hawaiian shirt clad pilot, he was thoroughly starstruck? No, it wasn't.
"Who is this little dude?" Rooster chirped from his seat at the piano bench, waving his hand towards Finley as the kid approached him with his arms opened wide to give a tight hug. Once Rooster received him, he swooped Finn up into his arms. "Hi baby Bob."
Finley smiled brightly, babbling away with a smile as he clung onto Rooster's shirt, his small fists holding onto it tightly. The three other adults were waiting for the inevitable nose bite, but it never came. No, the young blond just stared up at Rooster with sparkling blue eyes, staring at him like he was a superhero.
"Finn, this is Rooster, you know like the -" Bob was interrupted.
"Wroo."
Honestly if it hadn't been so cute, Bob and Y/N would've been jealous. There had been no Mama. No Dada. But there had been a Roo. Finley's first word honour had been given to Bradley, a man he'd just met over his parents. Children are so ungrateful sometimes.
Rooster cheered and playfully waved Finn's arms about in celebration, while Finley giggled excitedly. "That's it kid, I'm Roo. Can you say it again?"
"Wroo!" the little boy cheered, causing a laugh to escape from the others.
"Well, he's clearly found his favourite person," Y/N joked, teasingly elbowing Bob in the ribs. He pretended to be hurt at first, but he couldn't stop smiling and brought his wife into his arms, giving her a kiss on the temple as they observed as Bradley placed the boy on his lap and his hands over Finn's so he could guide him to play the piano.
Just like that, every woman in the surrounding area let out a collective "Aw" as the pair started playing a soft tune.
"Bradley is definitely getting laid tonight," Nat teased as her eyes drifted from woman to woman, all of whom were drooling over the pilot who was clearly a big fan of kids.
And to rile her husband up, Y/N whispered in Bob's ear, "Robert is definitely getting laid tonight too," and felt as a sly hand made its way down to rest on her ass, giving her a small slap as he tried to keep his face as neutral as he possibly could.
One song turned into two, three. Finn just kept wanting more and more, so Y/N offered, "Want a beer, I'll drive home?" as she knew they could be there for a while.
"You sure, darlin?"
"Have fun, baby. You deserve it." Bob kissed her on the lips tenderly. "What does Phoenix and Rooster drink?"
With everyone's orders, she made her way to the bar and ordered, but she never would've guessed to see someone she recognised there. Y/N happened to glance over her shoulder as she waited for the drinks and saw one of her college buddies.
Buddies? Were they buddies? Is that what they were? Y/N honestly had no idea what they were. Fuck buddies who hung out a lot and did more than sex but refused to say that they were anything more than that.
"Hey Seresin!"
Jake had to do a double take. One second he was about to pocket a ball and the next he was being called at by Y/N L/N, someone he hadn't seen in years. "Well, well, well, Y/N, how are you still so fine after all these years?" he greeted with his signature grin, placing the bottle of been nursing down on the bar so he could give her a hug.
"Ah, still a charmer I see."
"No amount of time can stop me from being me, and you! And you, you're lucky to be the object of my affection. Come on, it will be old times!"
Clearly, he was still the same Jake. Y/N brushed him off with a laugh and changed the subject, "I'm guessing you're a pilot now. How was the big, very secret mission?"
Penny arrived with Y/N's drinks and was thanked before Y/N gestured to what Jake was drinking, "Want another?" and placed another bottle in front of him. As Y/N went to pay, Jake caught a glimpse at her left hand. Shit. She was married? Oh well, his celebration plans went out the window.
"How'd you know about the mission?" He glanced at her curiously, bringing his bottle to his lip and took a swig.
"My husband."
"What?"
"Yeah, my husband flew. Actually, he didn't do the flying bit. Phoenix did."
Weird. Cause Phoenix flew with Bob. And... and... and that would make Bob... the penny dropped for Hangman and he had a million questions.
"Baby on board? Baby on board is married to you? That's - that's so fucking weird. I've fucked someone Bob has?!? And he married you? And you married him?"
Snorting, Y/N added, "And we have a kid."
"And you have a KID?"
"Uh huh."
"When did that happen?"
"Finn will be a year old in a month."
Like he'd been summoned, Bob came to see what the commotion was all about. He'd seen Hangman come up to his wife and expected her to send him packing within two seconds, but they seemed to know each other.
"Everything alright?" Bob asked, glancing between his wife and Hangman, who was looking absolutely flabbergasted.
"You didn't tell me you knew Jake Seresin, Bo," Y/N replied as she gave Bob a light slap on the arm.
"Bo? Bo! He's Bo? Robert Floyd is Bo your best friend from back home? Wait! This is your husband?" Pieces of information that she told him so long ago clicked into place. This was Bo, the boy who had her heart.
"Yeah," Y/N grinned.
The look on Hangman's face was pure disbelief. "What is going on? You and him?!?"
Bob glanced over at Y/N in confusion, not understanding what was happening here. "Bagman, the fact you can't believe Y/N would ever go for me is kinda insulting, really."
Jake scoffed as he shook his head in amusement, leaning against the counter to prop himself up. "It's a small world, Bobby." A mischievous grin appeared as he inquired, "How's it feel knowing we have dated the same girl? You should feel honoured."
Horror flashed across Bob's face. He shifted his gaze to his wife, who just shrugged. "College," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
"College," Jake confirmed.
Now it was Bob's turn to ask, "You and him?!? Baby, I thought your standards were higher than that." He waved his hands in the general direction of Jake.
Y/N had to hold her laugh back. It was rare that Bob ever got jealous, but the fact that he was annoyed because he didn't think Jake was good enough for her was amusing.
"What? He was an older and more experienced handsome guy that, for some reason, took an interest in me, is that a crime?" she retorted, the humour evident in her voice.
"Yes!" he exclaimed.
"Now I'm feeling insulted," Jake added, pouting slightly as he rested his chin on top of his hands.
Chuckling, Y/N handed Bob some bottles from the counter and encouraged, "Come on, Phoenix is probably waiting on her drink," pushing him in the direction of the piano, only to look over her shoulder and offer, "Hey, wanna meet our son, Seresin?"
Hangman happily agreed, an attempt at being nonchalant attempting to pass his lips only to be replaced by an enthusiastic "Hell yeah."
Though it was tough to get Finley to notice anyone but Rooster, he did eventually meet Jake and was promptly lifted onto his shoulders to show off. "There we go, give me a lay of the land. See any babes that your uncle Jakey would be into?" Hangman cooed as he gently pushed Finley's chubby fingers away from his face and took them into his hands so he could hold onto them to move them rhythmically.
Wrapping her arms around Bob's neck, Y/N laughed at how he still had a slight pout, teasing, "Bo, my love, you're so cute when you're grumpy," and kissed his cheek, which prompted her husband to wrap his arm around her waist and hold her closer to him.
"Baby, I'm still caught up about the fact that you didn't tell me about you and Hangman," he whined.
"I did."
"No, you didn't. I think I would've remembered that, darlin'."
Smiling, she looked at the man she loved so much and rolled her eyes. "I've told you about Jake from college so many times," she explained and let her fingers tenderly brush through the hair at the nape of his neck.
She had. But hadn't put together that Jake from college was fucking Jake Seresin until that very moment.
"Hangman was the one who walked you to class every day?"
"Yeah, until he dropped out halfway through his last year because his mother was sick and he needed to take care of her." Y/N chuckled softly. "I don't know what he's done to make you think otherwise, but the Jake I knew, he was sweet and kind underneath all that frat boy shit."
Bob observed Jake and how he interacted with Finn. The little boy was tugging on Hangman's hair like Remmy with Linguini, each time he pulled the left strand, Jake would veer to the left and vice versa. It was rather cute to watch, and it made Bob realise that, as much as he hated to admit it, maybe Hangman wasn't so bad.
"Why'd you always have to be right?" Bob sighed, but let a small smile take over his face as he peppered her cheek with kisses, each longer than the last, until he finally pulled back and said, "Don't use that against me next time I'm all pouty."
Y/N hummed as she leant in close to him and gave him a soft peck on the lips. "Oh yeah? But I am always right," she murmured playfully, pulling back slowly until he was met with her stare.
"Course you are, honey," he whispered, running his finger along her chin and making sure their faces weren't too far apart, before leaning forward and capturing her lips once again in a kiss that was a little too passionate to happen in public.
They both pulled away when they heard Finn start babbling for attention. "What'd he say?" Hangman grinned.
"Wroo!" Finney shrieked excitedly, pointing at Rooster, who was in the process of talking to a beautiful lady but turned as soon as he was called and politely excused himself to take the boy from Jake's arms.
"That's going to become a problem," Bob joked, but there was truth to his words.
Just like his pa, Finley had a habit of fixating on things. Lego. Paw Patrol. Chocolate buttons. And now, Bradley Bradshaw.
Eventually, it became clear that his evening of meeting so many people began to tire Finley out as his eyes started to droop and his head dropped to rest against Rooster's chest. "I think you better get my BFF to bed," Brad whispered to Bob, earning a nod of agreement from him.
"Okay, bud, you tired?" Bob asked as he hoisted Finley up onto his hip. Finley nodded sleepily, holding onto Brad's shirt tightly. "Roo is going to stay here. Gonna have to say bye bye now. Say bye bye."
Sleepy babbles came out of his mouth with another muttered "Roo" as he very quickly fell asleep against his father's chest, snoring softly, and his tiny fists letting go of Rooster.
Then, after saying goodbye to everyone, the Floyd's were on their way home. The entire drive home, Bob found himself sliding his hand up and down Y/N's thigh as she drove. "Watch how high that hand is travelling, Bo. Our kid doesn't want to wake up to any funny business," she jeered, giving his hand a little squeeze and smiling when she saw his expression change to mock offence.
"I wouldn't dream of doing anything that wasn't PG, Y/N. I'm a sweet, innocent boy who's never done nothing wrong in my entire life. Besides," he leaned in close and whispered suggestively, "I want you all to myself, babe. No interruptions. I want all of your attention," before pulling back and flashing her a flirtatious smile as he sat back in his seat.
And Y/N couldn't help it, she burst into bashful laughter. It bubbled forth and flowed from her throat. There was no point trying to keep it hidden; she simply couldn't resist the urge to give into anything he wanted. After all, what was the harm in giving into the desire to be held and cherished by him?
They'd spent so long pretending they were purely platonic, and that was out of the window now. Being married really put all those feelings out there.
As soon as they got home, Bob carried Finley inside to tuck him into bed. "Night bud," he smiled fondly, kissing the boy on the forehead and turning to leave before announcing, "Love you, baby Bob."
With their child dealt with, Bob found his wife in their bedroom. When he entered, he stopped dead in his tracks and simply stared at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but her lacy lingerie, a smile playing across her pretty red lips as she teased, "You gonna stand there gawking at me all night?"
He shook his head to bring himself back to reality. "No...no. Just...wow..."
"You like? I bought it for tonight."
"Like? Darlin, I love it! God, you're gorgeous," he breathed out and moved towards her, kneeling between her legs so he could kiss at her thighs and then work his way upwards.
She reached to touch his hair, stroking it gently before caressing his cheek as she replied, "I thought you might. That's why I did it," and giggled when Bob groaned against her skin, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark on her inner thigh.
Pushing the leg that he wasn't paying attention to further into the mattress, Bob's lips trailed closer and closer to where she desperately wanted them to go. "Fuck," Y/N breathed as she felt his tongue lick her through the thin material of her underwear, just enough pressure to elicit a moan from deep within her chest.
The sound alone made him stop and pull back, beaming brightly at her as he admired her features. "What do you want me to do? Ask and I'll do it," his hands trailed to her hips and he leant upwards to whisper, "But only if you ask nicely."
Y/N nudged her nose against his and murmured, "You can do whatever you want to me tonight, baby. Whatever," and kissed his lips deeply. His hands travelled to undo her bra, allowing him to cup her bare breasts whilst his tongue worked its way into her mouth, stroking the soft sensitive flesh gently before biting her bottom lip, and causing her to whimper into the kiss.
Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he pulled herself upwards so that their bodies were flush against each other's, the feeling of his warm skin brushing her own sending shivers racing down her spine. She ran her nails across his back, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt relax under her touch and he groaned lowly in response.
Rather abruptly, he sat up, yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor where it landed on the heap of her discarded clothes, and patted his lap. "You're in that kind of mood, huh?" she commented, giving him a sweet kiss as she bent over knees and prepared herself for the spank she knew was coming her way.
Obviously, they couldn't make that much noise but the smack to her ass wasn't exactly quiet. Bob gently caressed her reddening skin directly after it happened, smirking as he noticed the way her breathing grew shallower, the way her eyes fluttered closed and the way she bit her lip so she wasn't too loud.
"You ever let Jake bend you over his knee and spank you?" he asked, more jealousy than he would've liked in his tone, and she merely chuckled lightly before rolling her eyes.
"...Robert."
"Sorry, sorry. I just can't wrap my head around it, that's all."
He rubbed gentle circles on her lower back as he waited for her to respond and soon, she craned her head back to look at him. Her lips curved into a smirk as she watched him, amused by how serious he looked. To apologise, he leant down and softly kissed her shoulder.
Yet, it didn't take long before his hand was drifting back down her butt. His fingers hooked around her panties and pulled them off to the side so he could run along her folds teasingly and slowly dip his middle finger inside her entrance. He pumped it in and out slowly, enjoying the way that she squirmed and writhed beneath him.
Bob took his time to tease her and watch her face closely. As her lips parted and eyes widened, he curled his finger in deeper and faster and cooed, "That good, hmm?" She moaned and nodded, gripping onto the covers beside her as his name rolled past her lips. "Oh yeah, baby? You like that, darlin'? Does it feel good?"
His voice sounded thick with lust and need as his other hand brushed some hair that had fallen across her face, pushing it back behind her ear before it was trailing down to grasp her breast. She gasped sharply when he dipped another finger inside her, the sensation so intense, she could feel sparks running up and down the length of her body.
"Don't you dare come till I tell you to, babe," he commanded in an authoritative tone that he only tended to use when he was in the sky. And she couldn't deny how that voice would send her further towards the edge every time he used it.
At the exact moment her legs began to shake, he withdrew his fingers and rested them against her ass cheek. "You're so mean, Bo," she whined playfully, pouting as her eyelids fluttered shut and her head dropped down to the duvet
Then he edged her again and again and again. Tears collected in the corner of her eyes as she gripped the sheets tightly, feeling so incredibly sensitive and needy. "Stand for me," he instructed, and she obliged without hesitation although she was a little wobbly because of the pleasure he caused her. "Good girl."
Before he got up to manoeuvre her into position, he tugged her hips towards him to kiss her across stomach and all over her pregnancy stretch marks. Nowhere in Bob's brain did he understand why she was a bit self conscious of them. Not only did they look like little lighting bolts, but it was a reminder of their son and how he'd been that bun in her oven.
"Beautiful," he said, pressing light kisses over one stretch mark and grinning proudly when her cheeks flushed pink before moving to cover another one. "God, I hope Finley has your looks when he grows up."
Y/N snorted. It was already very clear who he'd grow up to look like. "I doubt that. Maybe we'll have to make another one for that hope to come true," she beamed, tracing her forefinger down his cheek and gazing lovingly at his handsome face that seemed to get brighter with every word she spoke. "Maybe we should try for a girl."
Another kid? Bob felt like it was Christmas again. "Yeah?" he grinned at her and got even more excited when she nodded. "Well, what are you waiting for? Bend over the side of the bed."
So, Y/N did as she was told and was rewarded with another spank as Bob stood behind her, his palm trailing up her thighs to rest on her waist as he removed the remainder of his clothes in a hurry, lined himself up with her entrance and gave himself a stroke before pushing inside of her.
"Ah, fuck," he groaned as Y/N's walls clenched around him, holding fast even though they'd barely started. "You can come as many times as you want to," he whispered breathlessly as he tried to calm himself down. "Let me just find my rhythm."
With how hard he'd riled her up, it didn't take long before she was gushing, her whole body writhing beneath him. Her cries rang out into the plush duvet as her legs trembled violently and she arched her back, but Bob didn't stop. He kept driving in and out of her, loving the muffled sounds she was making with each thrust.
"Good girl, you made such a big mess. Can you feel yourself dripping down your thighs?" Bob purred, leaning over to kiss the back of her shoulder as he continued to drive in and out of her while she shook beneath him.
Honestly, nobody had ever satisfied her like Bob had. He knew her and her body so deeply that it was easy for him to bring her complete bliss.
"It's a blessing really, all that slick on my cock makes it so easy - so, so easy - to fuck you right," he mumbled, nuzzling the side of her face and inhaling deeply, relishing in the feeling of having her wrapped around him completely. Y/N cried out in surprise as he pushed into her even deeper than he already had, the pressure overwhelming and making her lose all the brain cells she had once had.
And Bob knew that as soon as he asked, "Feel good, baby? Huh?" She answered with a whine that told him everything he needed. "Oh darlin, I've fucked you stupid already? That's got to be a record."
A low groan slipped past her lips as he stopped for a moment to shift her further onto the bed so that plant his knees on the duvet and pound into her with his front flush to her back. Every possible bit of his skin was touching hers as his body possessively held her down; his hands finding hers, holding them securely against the mattress as he continued to thrust into her.
"Sorry babe, I'll pay for some more," Bob grunted as he pulled back to rip her lace panties as they had begun to move around and it was annoying him to no end. Once they were gone and promptly thrown over his shoulder, Bob got back at it and teased, "Felt you clench, did that turn you on? It did, didn't it?"
She hummed in agreement, biting down on her lip so she wouldn't cry. The sound sent a spark through his veins, igniting the fire burning through his gut, causing him to become wild and impatient as he began to thrust hard, slamming into her harder and faster, losing control of his own body in pure primal hunger.
"Look at you," he cooed, smiling devilishly as he brought his hand to her neck and gently tilted her head to face him. She looked dazed and dumb, tears streaking down her face, her lips swollen and red from all the biting she'd done to them. Her hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead and he loved watching her in such a state.
He wanted nothing else in the world than seeing her look exactly how she did right then; beautiful, vulnerable and desperate for him to continue making her feel this wonderful. "You're so beautiful," he uttered between quick panting breaths, stroking her jaw with his fingertips. "All mine. All for me."
The words sent her into a frenzy, her breathing becoming short and fast and frantic. Her body tightened around him as waves of ecstasy washed over her. His movements quickened and soon, he found himself coming undone within her body. Panting loudly as he let out a moan of satisfaction, he buried his face into the crook of her neck and slumped on top of her.
His chest heaved and sweat coated his toned body as he held onto her tight, kissing his way along her collarbone and neck as he jolted along with the beat of his heart until his breathing calmed.
"Holy fuck... Oh fuck…" Y/N whimpered softly, still shuddering slightly under him and he chuckled to himself at how utterly adorable she looked as she tried to get her brain back online and regain some semblance of sanity. "I wasn't too loud, was I?"
"There were no knocks on the door, so I assume not," he answered, kissing down her neck and taking delight in the small gasp she let slip when he nibbled lightly on her skin. Her eyes were glazing over and her cheeks were flushed but there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips which pleased him greatly. "Wanna go again?"
"Give me a minute."
But when Bob rolled his hips once more, she was, once again, like putty in his hand, her mouth opening as she gasped for air.
"What if I can't wait that long?" He laughed as her legs twitched involuntarily underneath him and he got right up to her ear to whisper, "I'm not going to stop until this perfect pussy is filled to the brim with my cum."
It was going to be a long and draining night, that was sure.
In the morning, Y/N stretched to find that Bob was already out of bed. She threw on some clothes and, on achy legs, went in search of her husband. It didn't take long to find him and when she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she found him cooking breakfast in his underwear while Finley sat on the counter, talking to a very sleepy looking Rooster on facetime.
"Hey Rooster," she called out, making her presence known by all three boys.
"Roo!" Finn pointed to the phone and squealed happily when she picked him up off the counter and gave him a hug.
"You do realise he's going to do this every morning?"
From the other line, Brad chuckled. "Yeah, we might have to schedule a time that's a little later if I'm going to be honest." Then he caught a glimpse at a purple bruise on the side of Y/N's neck. "Jesus Bob, you really went for it, huh?"
Bob craned his head around to see what the hell Bradley was talking about, and immediately turned pink at the sight. "Sorry babe," he apologised, although he didn't really feel all that sorry, and gave her a quick kiss before moving back to the sausages he was frying.
"It looks as if you got in a fight with an octopus, Y/N."
"Maybe I did."
Sure, Bob didn't mind sharing information about his family with his coworkers, his sex life on the other hand, that was certainly off-limits. He reached out and happily squidged Y/N's hip as if he was mentally saying "Don't tell him any more or there will be consequences."
Who knows, maybe she'd like those consequences.
#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#bob fucks#bob floyd#top gun maverick#Youtube
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)
"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.
It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.
It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your table in surprise.
It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.
It was that it was that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm three hours ago.
in which Reader realizes the quiet aviator is actually her fave audio porn creator -- coming soon!
#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob fucks#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#i am so excited for this silly fic guys#is bob's pornsona a cowboy named rhett? ya know maybe#i'm having a blast#let me know if you want to be tagged!
447 notes
·
View notes
Text
color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader
Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.
a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.
warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?
tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain
Bob Floyd was always beautiful.
You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.
But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.
“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”
You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.
You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.
But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.
“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”
Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.
“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”
You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”
He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.
“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”
He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.
“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.
Bob loved to make fun of you for being a “city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.
Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.
You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”
Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.
“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.
“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”
“How come?”
Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.
“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”
You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.
“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.
“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.
(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)
“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.
“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.
You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.
“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”
“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.
It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.
And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”
“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”
You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.
He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.
“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.
In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.
But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.
“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.
“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”
Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.
“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”
You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.
You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.
“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”
Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.
“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”
You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.
You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.
“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”
The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.
“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.
As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.
“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”
“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.
“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”
Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.
With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.
“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.
“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.
You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.
“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”
It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.
You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.
“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”
“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.
“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”
Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.
For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.
His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.
“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.
Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.
“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”
Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.
You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.
You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.
Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.
“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.
“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”
Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.
“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”
You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.
“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.
The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.
“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.
“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.
Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.
“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”
You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.
In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.
He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.
You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.
Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.
But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.
.
(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!
#international bob floyd fucks month#top gun maverick fanfiction#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd fanfiction#my beautiful husband bob floyd#bob fucks
342 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something in the Orange
Happy Valentine’s Day babes! Just a little Bob one shot to celebrate the day.❤️
Pairing- Bob Floyd x reader
Warnings- Drinking, language, smut
Summary- North Island’s new medical officer seems to have caught everyone’s eye, but she has her sights set on a certain WSO.
————————————————————————-
Knuckles rapping against the shitty cafeteria table startle you out of your thoughts, looking up you audibly groan at who has decided to grace you with his presence. Jake Seresin, or Hangman as you know him has sidled up to the table of aviators and medics with a cocksure smile and flirty demeanor almost every day this week and to be frank it’s really starting to get on your nerves. Being the head medical officer for the dagger squad isn’t a boring job by any means and sometimes all you want is to just eat in silence, today unfortunately no one is giving you that opportunity.
“What’s up doc?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes, he has got to be the cheesiest man you’ve ever met and you still don’t know how any of his lines get him a date.
“Just living the dream Hangman, trying to catch a break and hoping one of you doesn’t wind up in my infirmary today.”
If he gets the hint that you aren’t interested he doesn’t acknowledge, just makes himself at home in your space and swipes a chip off your plate.
“Hard deck tonight, everyone’s going, you gonna tag along? I’d love to buy you a drink.”
You had in fact planned to go, but not to spend time giving Seresin any more attention than his giant ego needed. You had your eye on someone else entirely, but being the shiny new toy in fightertown (single, under 40, and hot) meant that every available guy (and some girls) on the squad had been vying for your attention the past few weeks since your arrival. It was becoming tedious, you knew you would need to set up some boundaries but you’d been testing the waters and just trying to make some friends, not looking for anything serious yet. Well unless a certain someone wanted that but that was a whole other can of worms.
So you just smiled up at Mirimar’s golden boy and told him you’d see him later that evening, not missing the glare a certain bespectacled WSO had directed in his teammate’s direction. You’d unpack that later.
Bob Floyd had been your one serious boyfriend in your navy career, you’d both been stationed together in Maryland in your mid twenties and had gotten on like a house on fire. But you both were young and not ready for anything substantial so when he moved to Lemoore you both agreed to stay friends and see where life took you. It was hard and you were heartbroken but you knew now it had been for the best, neither one of you were ready for marriage at the time and your careers kept you both on opposite sides of the planet which made things even more difficult. But now you were here, seeing each other every day and it was slowly driving him insane having to watch every one of his squad mates flirt with you on the daily. He knew you probably found it hilarious how it got under his skin, he didn’t have the right to say anything about it anymore and that was what frustrated him the most. He’d been the one to break things off, he’d put you both in the position you were in and he couldn’t stand it. But you two had barely spoken since you’d joined the team, and who knows if he even still had a shot in the first place?
———————————————————————
Hard Deck Fridays had become a commonplace for the Dagger Squad and their crew, and tonight was no exception. The bar was packed to capacity, everyone tossing back drinks and toasting to the weekend, congregating by the pool tables near the jukebox while Hangman and Coyote ran the dart board. You finally squeezed your way through the crowd after getting a beer for you and your medic buddy Carrie, grateful that she had claimed a table with Phoenix and a few of the other girls in your group. You all chatted and gossiped over the news of the week and you could finally feel the tension release from your shoulders, it really had been a good idea to get out tonight you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed the girl time.
“Uh oh girls, Rooster’s headed this way”
You all craned your necks to get a good look, there was no denying that Bradley Bradshaw was hot, but he definitely wasn’t your type. He’d made it known more than once that he wasn’t a commitment kinda guy and you were perfectly fine with viewing him as eye candy and letting that be that. But he had his eyes set on you tonight and his heated gaze raking over your body had you feeling some kind of way. “Down girl, it’s been a while but damn you need to get it together” you thought as he made his way over, one night in the sack with Bradshaw wouldn’t be worth the weeks of awkwardness that would be sure to follow and the repercussions were enough to keep him at arms length.
“Evening ladies,” he said with a lopsided grin, sunglasses still perched on his nose despite being indoors, which should have looked stupid but on him it was definitely working.
“Y/n wanna take a walk outside with me for a bit? I’d love a chance to get to know our new medical officer a little better.”
Well he certainly took the direct route, you had to hand it to him. He knew what he wanted and went for it, you could respect that. But as your eyes flicked up to make your response you noticed Bob at the table across from you with Fanboy, eyes boring into yours with a look you knew all too well. That I know what you look like on your knees kind of look, and damn it you were turned on just at the memories of him. So you smiled sweetly at Bradley and politely turned him down, making your way towards the bathrooms with a slight nod of your head in Bob’s direction. He slung back the last of his whiskey and made an excuse to leave the group, no one the wiser at what was transpiring.
In the dark hallway by the restrooms he found you, nervously playing with your bracelet and eyes darting all over as you looked for him. You sighed in relief when you saw him and he reached out for your hand to take you through the back exit into the balmy summer night.
You felt like every nerve was on fire, you’d been avoiding him the past few weeks, afraid to ask how he was or how things had been. What if he was in a relationship? What if he was over you and wasn’t interested anymore? You’d spent way too many nights with your hand hovering over his contact in your phone, way too chicken shit to make the call. But now he was here and holding your hand and you might explode just from the proximity alone. He had bulked up since you’d seen him last, muscles stretching that white tee just right and his hair was lighter from all the days in the California sun. Freckles covered his nose and cheeks and you wondered if they were along his shoulders and back as well, wondered what it’d be like to be in his arms again, in his bed, listening to him sing to you as you fell asleep like he used to. You needed to know if you had a shot, it was right on the tip of your tongue and you couldn’t bury it anymore.
“Robby, uh I know it’s been a while but-“
“I missed you.”
You blinked up at him with shock now, how much time had you wasted the past few weeks avoiding him? Regret flooded you at the realization that you should have had this talk sooner.
“I missed you too.”
He didn’t wait for you to say anything else, crowding you up against the weathered wall of the bar and leaning in to cup your cheeks with his hands. He rubbed his nose along yours and you let out a shaky laugh, he’d always been so good at rendering you speechless, drunk on the smell of his cologne and heat of his body pressed against yours.
“Can I kiss you sweetheart? Wanna make up for all that lost time we wasted.”
You nodded maybe a little too enthusiastically because he huffed out an amused laugh but pulled you impossibly closer, lips molding to yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed. God you’d missed him, no one had ever filled the void he’d left in his wake no matter how hard you’d tried. The two of you a tangled bunch of limbs and tongues in an all too familiar dance that had your hands roaming and bodies grinding into each other, barely aware that you were in a very public space. The bar door flung open and startled you both, Phoenix peeking out into the darkness to find the two of you still pressed together, chests heaving as you gasped for air.
“So I see you two have kissed and made up” she said with a laugh, and Bob hid his face in the crook of your neck, giggles pouring from him which brought on a round of them from yourself. She smiled knowingly and with a wink waved you both off, of course Bob had told her everything about the two of you, it wasn’t a surprise at all in her mind that she would eventually find the two of you like this; it had only been a matter of time. “I like her” you said as you fixed his crooked glasses. “Yeah, she grows on you, like mold” which sent you both into a laughing fit, it felt good to be with him like this again. No more tension between the two of you and it had you craving domesticity with him even more.
“What does this mean?” You whispered up at him, you didn’t know if you could bear it if he didn’t want to start over and the uncertainty in your eyes broke his heart.
“I was stupid, so so stupid. I love you, I never stopped. I won’t screw it up this time baby, I swear it.” He reaches for your hand and sticks his pinky out, knows your affinity for pinky promises and that they are law in your heart. It’s binding, if you two cross this bridge and he makes this promise there’s no going back.
With a shaky breath you link yours with his and blink back the tears that blind your eyes, he really does mean it. He won’t break your heart again.
“Let’s go inside before Phoenix comes back, she’s relentless and it’s time I introduce you to her properly. Want everyone to know you’re mine.”
He pecks your lips and then helps you fix your hair and dress, leading the way back to your table. To say the group seemed stunned was an understatement, no one but Natasha had known you even knew each other and now here was their quiet WSO with the new girl in his lap kissing her like they’d known each other for ages. Bradley turned to Jake who gave him a flabbergasted look as well, how the hell had Baby on Board managed to snatch you up when they couldn’t even get a second glance from you? Coyote ever the nosy gossip of the group sidled over to the two of you pulling you both from your conversation, Bob giving him an eyebrow raise clearly annoyed at being interrupted.
“Ease up Bob, just curious about how you two kids know each other, you two look awfully cozy.”
You patted Bob’s cheek and smiled, the rumor mill would swirl regardless so why not get ahead of it now? You leaned in to give Bob a quick kiss and then turned all your attention to the group who clearly couldn’t mind their own business, eavesdropping on your conversation and failing miserably at hiding their interest.
“Not that it’s any of your business Lieutenant Machado but Bob and I go way back. Now if you’ll excuse me I think I’m going to have my boyfriend take me home and fuck me senseless so if you’ve gotten your answers I’d suggest you find somewhere else to be.” You smiled a saccharine sweet look at him, laced with a bit of venom as you dared anyone to say anything untoward. You knew the guys liked to pick on him and you wouldn’t have it happening on your watch anymore. Coyote gave an incredulous look but got the hint and with a fist bump to Bob made his way back to the group. Everyone else seemed awestruck until you glanced over the room, then they magically all had something else to do or look at that wasn’t the two of you.
Bob and Phoenix choked out a laugh and he squeezed your side, when you looked at him his eyes were hungry, heat pooling in your stomach at the look he gave you. It’d been so long since you’d been together but you would never forget what that look meant and you gasped for air, squeezing your eyes and legs shut at the same time as he leaned in to nuzzle next to your ear.
“Think we should get out of here pretty girl, what’dya say? Time to go home so you can get fucked senseless like you put so eloquently?” He huffs out a laugh, he’d missed your smart mouth and zero tolerance for bullshit.
Your response gets lost in your throat somewhere, but you follow him out of the bar as he waves everyone off, they’ll no doubt have plenty to ask you both on Monday but he didn’t give a shit, you were here and he’d been an absolute fool to let you go. He wouldn’t do it again.
He’d tried to move on countless times over the past few years, if he was honest with himself he looked for you in every woman he dated but no one seemed to fit the bill. You two had kept in contact over the years and he knew you hadn’t settled down either, hope always in the back of his mind that you’d find your way back to each other.
He’d barely made it in the door before he was on you, wrenching your tiny dress over your head to find you in nothing but the tiniest scrap of underwear he’d ever seen. You were grinding your body all over his and whining deep in your throat as he ran his knuckles up against your nipples. Scooping you up and tossing you over his shoulder he made his way down the hall to his bedroom, peals of laughter leaving you and he swatted your ass, God he’d missed this. He’d never had this kind of intimacy with anyone else. It was easy, like breathing when the two f you were in bed, always talking and laughing while also rough and dirty, the sex was always hot but the partnership you shared was something neither of you could find anywhere else.
You bounced backward as he plopped you onto his bed, and you were suddenly very aware that he had too many clothes on. You needed him now, there would be plenty of time to talk and take time relearning each others bodies but in this moment you wanted him inside you.
“Robby, please. Please fuck me, need it so badly missed you so much.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the dark. Pants made it just below his ass before he was pulling himself free and sliding into you. You gasped as he manhandled you, grasping his face to lick into his mouth as he slammed back into you with a sharp thrust, you had been soaked the minute you two got in the car and were more than ready to let him have you. It was animalistic the way he was fucking into you, sucking and biting whatever skin he could reach as he grunted praise in your ear, how tight your little wet pussy was and how badly he wanted to mark you up, keep you stuffed full of him every second of every day, needed to fuck you until you couldn’t walk anymore and you clenched down on his cock, it was too much and not enough all at once, you needed him like oxygen, so many nights you’d spent pretending your fingers were his cock but nothing could ever substitute how good Bob could make you feel.
He needed you to cum, his resolve was crumbling but he couldn’t let himself finish without you letting go first, needed to see you come undone and watch that fucked out stupid smile on your face he’d missed so much while he took what he needed from your spent body. He snaked a hand down to your throbbing clit and swiped slow circles to build you up, watched your chest and neck flush as you began to wail and thrash in his arms, pussy pulsing around him and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, biting down on your shoulder as he came hard, painting your walls in his release as you cried and bucked into him, still coming down from your high.
Finally the heaviness in his chest he’d had since you arrived felt bearable, he took a deep breath that he swore he’d been holding for days and appraised his handiwork as you sucked in deep breaths. Your chest was littered in what would be dark hickies before the weekend was through, bite mark on your shoulder would definitely cause some looks but you looked like an angel from the orange glow of the hallway light, and Bob finally felt himself relax.
You giggled into his shoulder as he melted into you, broad heavy body crushing you into the mattress and you felt like you were floating from the afterglow.
“So, is it safe to say we’re back together?” He said with a sheepish grin and you slapped his ass causing him to yelp and rub his stubble into your cheek.
“Might have to keep my options open, apparently I’m a hot commodity these days” you cackled and he pulled back to pin you by the hips to the bed, attacking you with tickles as you kicked and fought his advances. The two of you would spend the whole weekend wrapped up in each other, and Bob would spend every day proving to you he was in this for the long haul.
Monday morning came too soon, and when the time came to change in the locker rooms the guys were treated to baby Bob Floyd covered in hickies and scratch marks, needless to say they didn’t pick on him again about his lack of sexual prowess, and the incessant flirting from Seresin and Bradshaw miraculously stopped. You were Bob’s girl, off limits and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tagging- @attapullman (thank you for clearing the writer’s block a little!)
@bobgasm
@mamachasesmayhem
@roosterforme
@sailor-aviator
@sebsxphia
#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#top gun bob#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#bob fucks#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#happy valentine's day
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sky's the Limit (part 2)
hello everyone, so glad you all enjoyed part one so much - thought you deserved a little treat in the form of the next chapter and some juicy lore..
warning: some evidence to the canon that Bob fucks, mention of infinite jest, Jake flirting with anything that moves, the usual
Sky's the Limit part 2
part one
Part of the deal of getting to stay with Penny for free was occasionally helping behind the bar when she was short-staffed, or more importantly, when she had a hot date with Pete.
You had to borrow one of her old Hard Deck t-shirts, which was a little bit too snug for your liking, but you had to make do. Besides, it was a welcome break from the blank screen you had spent the last week looking at. Talking to real people, maybe that’s where inspiration will come from.
****
When Jake walks into the bar, he is determined. He is absolutely exhausted and he needs to get back into his groove, when he immediately notices it. Behind the bar there is a girl wiping down the far end, with her back turned to him. She’s in a pair of pretty short shorts and a quite snug Hard Deck t-shirt, and she’s clearly new. This should be easy.
“Could I get a drink? I’m terribly thirsty over here.” He says in the deepest, sultry Southern tone he can get.
The girl turns around, and Jake’s face drops.
It’s you, with your hair down and you’re not wearing your glasses. He swallows and subtly readjusts himself.
“Really Bagman? That’s the best you’ve got?”
He puffs his chest a little. “I’m surprised you can even tell it’s me from over there. I’m pretty sure that’s a safety hazard.”
“I’ve got contacts in, dumbass. Although I don’t need my glasses to know a sore loser when I see one.”
“And I would have thought that bar work is below such a worthy scholar like yourself.”
“I’m helping Aunt Penny. She’s got a date with Pete. Or wait, you guys call him Maverick.” Jake nods. You look at his hands. “Corona right?”
Jake is taken slightly aback. “Yeah, that’s right.” You pull out a bottle and open it.
He takes a swig, before yawning. “Hot date, eh? That’s good for some.”
“Tell me about it.” You say without thinking, before correcting yourself. “I can’t believe the great Bagman isn’t constantly inundated with women throwing themselves at him.” He looks at you in a way that makes you feel very exposed all of a sudden. “I mean, in spite of your terrible pick up lines.”
“Yeah, well I’m not going to waste my good ones on you am I?” Jake regrets it a little the moment he says it, but you carry on wiping glasses, seemingly unaffected.
“I’m just saying they could probably do with an edit or two.”
“You’re going to give me tips, are you? Thanks but no thanks.” He leans over the bar. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.” He catches a whiff of whatever perfume you’re wearing. Damn, if it doesn’t smell good.
You lean back and raise your hands up. “Alright, good luck then. I need to get back to work.”
Jake wants to think of a witty retort but you’re already gone. He picks up his beer and walks over to the pool table where the other pilots are waiting. He doesn’t know why he feels hot, but he hopes it will go away. It has to go away, right?
***
“Earth to Hangman?” Tash waves her hand in front of his face. “It’s your turn.” She’s still holding the darts.
“Oh right, sure.” He tries to focus on the board, throwing his darts even quicker than usual.
“It’s annoying you’re still good at that when you’re clearly not even paying attention.” Tash huffs.
Jake looks over to you as you serve one of the older gentlemen.
“So what do we know about this ‘Ladybug’?” He asks, still not prising his eyes away.
“Great, Hangman has a crush.” Tash swats his arm. “I like this one Jake, I’m not letting you drive her away.”
“I’m not going to. Besides, she’s Penny’s niece so she’s not going anywhere.” He turns to her and Bob, who is looking at his phone. “But there’s something odd about her right?”
“You’re just saying that because she doesn’t immediately want to jump your bones, Bagman.”
Bob keeps looking at his phone. He had in fact looked her up after your last conversation. He did find it odd that you had clearly already finished your pHD because he had already read your thesis, which had already been published. However, it was rare he had something over Jake, and he liked you, so he decided to say nothing. He wasn’t sure what you were working on, but whatever it was, he was sure it was your business.
Jake needed to work for this one.
Bob looks at Jake, who is intently watching as a skinny guy in glasses and some faded band t-shirt leans over, talking to you. You lean in, your arms slightly squeezing your chest towards him. Unbeknownst to anyone, Jake feels himself getting hot again all of a sudden. This scrawny little rat? Really? He downs his beer.
“Anyone want another drink?”
****
You return to the bar and look around. Cute Glasses Guy is nowhere to be seen.
“Bagman, did you see where that guy went?”
“What guy?” Jake twiddles with his toothpick, desperately avoiding eye contact. You look him over.
“You know exactly which guy. Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are a terrible liar.” You cross your arms. “What did you say to him?”
Jake finally turns to look at you.
“Look, you’re better off without him. He was about two minutes away from telling you how much he loved Infinite Jest. “
“Well at least he could probably read it, unlike you. I’m surprised you even know who David Foster Wallace is.”
“I’m full of surprises. Unlike him. You do not want a guy who dresses like he got lost in a vintage store in Portland, and wants you to invest in his startup to help buy polaroids for orphans.”
You cross your arms.
“So what guys do I want exactly? Big hunky pilots who think they are God’s gift to women? I’m fine, thank you.” You get back to cleaning the bar.
“You think I’m hunky.”
“Shut up.”
“I mean, what’s wrong with me anyway? Most girls would kill for this.”
You couldn’t help but grin. It really did irk him that you weren’t falling for his act.
“Sorry babe, but you’re not my type.”
“Then tell me, who is?”
You scan the bar. You looked over at the pilots clustered around the pool table.
“Oh my god, it’s not Rooster is it?”
“As much as I would love to say that, him and my sister have history.” You clap your hands over your mouth. “Wait, I’m not supposed to say that.” You turn to him. “How good are you at keeping secrets?” He seems to mull it over.
“Hangman, I’m being serious.”
He rolls his eyes before miming zipping his lips shut. “I am a gentleman of my word. I promise I won’t, even if it will kill me. Besides, I don’t even know who your sister is.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Do you honestly think I just sleep with every single woman I lay my eyes on?”
“Yes. Especially if they are more beautiful, successful, glamorous versions of me.”
“I doubt that.” You tilt your head at him. He looks curiously soft, until he realises your look, and he looks away, taking a sip of his beer. “But let me know when she’s in town.” You whip him with the dish cloth you’re holding.
“Gross, Jake.” Jake’s eyebrow perked up. You used his real name. He wanted to celebrate but his curiosity got the better of him.
“So who is your type then?”
You looked back at the table.
All the pilots were ridiculously good looking, it was like a casting director had chosen every single one of them to make you nervous. But as you swept through, you could see one particular pilot looking at his phone smiling.
“Bob.”
“Bob? Are you kidding?”
“No? He’s tall, handsome, smart and a real gentleman.” You lean forward. “And he fucks.”
“Ew, what, gross. Where are you even getting that from?”
“Women’s intuition.” You tap your nose. Jake looks at you disbelievingly. “Also he has a hickey right at the bottom of his neck, just poking out of his collar, and what looks like” You take another look over. “Bruises and nail marks on his arms.”
“How the hell can you see that from over there?”
“I’ve got good observation skills.”
“Does that come in handy with your thesis?”
“Sometimes.”
Jake leans forward.
“So if you’ve come to this conclusion, why don’t you ask him out then?” Jake huffs.
“He is also definitely seeing someone Jake, don’t be stupid.”
“Okay, now you are having me on.”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe someone like Bob could have a girlfriend? Do you think because someone wears glasses and likes books they are doomed to be unfuckable losers? That they should be grateful for any single morsel of attention they receive because who knows what will turn up?”
“That’s not what I meant Ladybug-”
You point at him.
“You don’t get to call me that.”
“Look, I’m -”
“Hey Hangman!” Javy waves a cue, “you promised us a game remember?”
Jake turns back to you, but you are gone, serving someone else at the bar.
***
Jake walks back to the pool table, where Bob is still looking at his phone smiling.
“Who are you messaging?”
Bob’s head snaps up, and he puts his phone behind his back.
“Er-what, no, I mean no one. Just looking at a - a - a- meme, that’s all.”
“Goddammit.” He turns back to you at the bar where you are talking to another customer.
“Jake-”
“Look Bob, remember we share any good memes on the chat. That’s what good squad members do.” He sees Bob’s shoulders visibly relax. At this point Nat sidles up to him.
“Hey, I realised where her name sounds familiar.”
“Oh really?”
“Her dad is Admiral Y/N.” Jake’s eyebrows raised so far they almost flew off his forehead.
“That guy? The one who -”
“Yeah. That one.”
Your dad was famous throughout the entirety of Top Gun for being perhaps the biggest hard ass there was. He was known to give recruits 200 pushups for just looking at him wrong. He even scared Jake’s dad. Jake couldn’t imagine what he would do if anyone dared to touch his daughter. But something still didn’t make sense. Usually he could tell Navy brats a mile off but Jake knew this was different. You hadn’t even given the slightest hint who you were. This game had just gotten a little more dangerous, and a lot more interesting.
part three
----
@burningwitchprincess
@cornishkat
#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#hangman top gun#top gun hangman#top gun fanfiction#bob fucks#bob floyd#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#jake hangman imagine#jake hangman fic
177 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
squidthekid16
Over And Over Til Lambs Turn To Lions
kejonesiga
Untitled
tiendanaturistalunaverde-blog
Tienda Naturista Luna Verde
indiashelter
Indiashelter
washeduphazbin
Loser, Baby