#bob smut
Text
Alice Down the Rabbit Hole
summary - You should have known to question when Bob suddenly appeared in your bakery and made his place in your life—but, in your defense, his smile was so charming! Five dates in and he's already swept you off your feet completely with his thoughtful nature and kind heart. But the question still remains: what do you actually know about him? And why does he always come back to you covered in bruises?
warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, boxing inaccuracies probably, smut - (p in v, protected sex, brief finger sucking, fingering, spitting, like two spanks, implied aftercare), no use of y/n, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you would like
this series is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 4.0k
sweeter than sugar masterlist
“Not quite, you gotta— Move your foot forward a bit—”
You let out a huff, dropping your stance as you turn to face Bob. “Can you please just show me?”
The tips of Bob’s ears turn pink at the request, but he nods and takes a step towards you, lining up behind you as you turn back to the punching bag. He moves his hands to your hips, angling them with a gentle knee pushing against the back of your own.
“Like this.” His breath is warm against your ear and his hands slide up your forearms, positioning them correctly. “Good.”
You’re thankful that Bob is holding you up because you’re pretty sure his raspy voice in your ear would have you melting into the floor if he wasn’t.
Even though you and Bob had been on three dates already—with your fourth in just a couple days—you are still too prideful to admit that your boxing inquiry was just an attempt to see him more and so he is still under the impression that you actually want to learn. Your arms are suffering because of it, but your heart doesn’t care. And Eloise can laugh at you all she wants, she’s not the one who has Bob breathing against the shell of her ear as he moves his hands all over her body.
“Always make sure your hands are blocking your face. If you’re not punching, you want them up as a defense,” Bob instructs, moving your arms to match his words.
You nod, swallowing as Bob’s fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding you through a slow punch. Once your glove has made contact with the bag he brings it back parallel with your ear. He repeats the cycle a few more times, alternating hands, before you feel his gaze on your temple.
“That make sense?”
You smile. “Yeah.”
Bob mirrors your smile and, unfortunately, he drops your arms and steps away from you. “Good. Why don’t we call it for today? Don’t want you so sore you can’t eat your popcorn,” he teases gently.
Just because you refuse to admit the real reason behind your sudden interest in boxing, doesn’t mean you haven’t been complaining about it.
“Why do you think you’re coming, muscle man?” You grin.
“Oh, I see,” Bob chuckles as he helps you out of your gloves. “You only takin’ me on dates so you have someone to feed you popcorn?”
At the second reminder of your upcoming movie date, you can’t help but stretch onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to Bob’s cheek. “And don’t you forget it.”
Again, Bob is pink in the face, but his mouth is a content, small smile anyway. You aren’t sure if Bob is your boyfriend—you think he’s pretty close to it, but you’ve only been on three dates. He kissed you on your second date, right when he walked you to your door. And he does thoughtful things like texting you random updates throughout the day—you always get good morning and goodnight texts—and dropping by the bakery with coffee whenever he can. Bob isn’t your boyfriend. But you wouldn’t hate it if he was.
“Alright, you’re gonna be late if I keep you any longer.” Bob glances at the clock behind you. “Let me grab your stuff and I’ll walk you to your car.”
His hand intertwines with yours—that’s another thing he’s started doing - holding your hand—and he slings your gym bag over his shoulder. You swing your interlocked hands as he leads you out of Mav’s, politely waving goodbye to the woman at the front desk.
Squeezing Bob’s hand lightly, you get his attention. “If you come by Sugar Plum’s later, I’ll save you a blondie.”
“You bribin’ me?” Bob looks down at you with a smile.
You bat your lashes at him innocently. “Only if it’s working.”
“You’re seeing me Friday, sweet pea, you sure you won’t get sick of me?” Bob jokes as you reach your car.
“Not possible.” You shake your head resolutely.
He looks at you for a moment, perhaps searching your face for something, and then he’s dropping down to give you a quick peck. “Yeah, I’ll come by.” He promises.
You give him another kiss before he’s putting your stuff in the backseat and you’re getting in the driver’s side. You pull out with a wave goodbye and Bob waits for you to exit the parking lot completely before he heads back inside Mav’s.
There’s still a gnawing of guilt in his stomach every time you leave, but it’s lessened significantly. Since he started seeing you, Bob has cut down on his fights—something he knows Maverick isn’t happy about—and it’s made him feel a bit better about everything. He hasn’t fought since your first date and you’ve lit a small hope in him that maybe one day his lies to you will finally turn into truths.
He just needs more time to figure it out.
“So, who’s the girl?” There’s a teasing lilt in Adler’s voice and Bob stiffens.
“What?”
Adler just chuckles. “Is that how you wanna play this? That’s cute.”
“I’m not playing anything,” Bob argues, probably a little harsher than he intended, and it gives away that he is, in fact, playing something.
“Alright, tough guy, I’ll drop it. Simmer down,” Adler holds his hands up in surrender with a chuckle. “Just think it’s nice to see you so sweet on someone.”
“I—” Bob can tell Adler is enjoying this far too much so he clears his throat. “Did you need something?” He changes the subject.
At that, Adler falters slightly, a small sigh leaving his lips. “Mav’s got a fight for you. It’s a big one too, I don’t think you’re getting out of it.”
Bob swallows. “When?”
“Friday.”
“But… I have a date…” Bob feels like a child again, always coming to the bitter realization that things don’t work out for guys like Bob Floyd.
Adler purses his lips, closing his eyes for a second before opening them. “Look, I’ll get Mav to push the fight back until after midnight— Lord knows they hardly fight during daylight hours anyway and I know Hangman’s been itching to fight since he got back so we can probably get him in the undercard. But then you have to be there, Cinderella. Got it?”
Bob nods hastily.
“Alright,” Adler pulls a white card from his pocket. “Here’s the address. You’re there or I’ll kick your ass personally, Reaper.”
“Ya know, I distinctly remember you sayin’ you weren’t gonna ask her out and now you’re on date number, what is it?” Mickey pretends to run through his fingers. “Four.” He grins, taking a happy bite of his doughnut.
“I don’t know,” Bob looks down bashfully. “She just— I don’t know. She’s way too good for me—”
“Then let her be. She clearly likes you too, Bo. Don’t you think she should be the one to decide what kind of guy she deserves?” Mickey gives him a stern, knowing look, though it loses some of its effect with the powdered sugar covering his mouth.
Bob takes a breath. In a little under half an hour, he’ll be picking you up and taking you to a movie. Somehow, without him even realizing it, you wormed your way into Bob’s life as a constant and Bob doesn’t mind in the slightest. Clearly he doesn’t, because even though everything in him tells him he doesn’t deserve you, he keeps seeing you. The white address card Adler gave him feels heavy in his pocket.
“But,” Mickey grabs Bob’s attention and gives him sympathetic eyes. “You do have to tell her the truth at some point.”
Bob nods slowly. “I know. I— I know. I will. Not tonight, but— If it goes any further, I will.”
“If it— Holy shit, you’re gonna ask her to be your girlfriend! Are you gonna do it like you did with Samantha in 9th grade, when you got so nervous, you tripped over your shoelace and—”
“You know, this isn’t making me want to introduce you to her,” Bob interrupts his best friend with a halfhearted glare.
“Please, the second you slip up and tell me her name, I’ll be marching my ass to Sugar Plum so fast,” Mickey scoffs. “But you’re still going out with her tonight right? Adler pushed your fight back?”
“Yeah, he did.” Bob confirms
“Do you know who you’re fighting?”
Bob shrugs lightly. “Razor, I think. He’s good, but he’s always been predictable. I should be fine, I’ve beaten him before.”
“I guess they don’t call you the Grim Reaper for nothing,” Mickey tries to joke.
Bob frowns slightly. Though he knows some of the other guys envy it, Bob doesn’t have the same appreciation for the nickname. It’s almost mocking in a way. A reminder that the very thing that makes him a bad person is what he’s good at, that he’s synonymous with all the pain he claims to hate. The first time he heard the word “Reaper” slip past your lips, it made him sick.
“Yeah.” Bob just agrees simply.
In that moment, he thinks of you. Your kind eyes and cute nose, the way you’re so sure you’ll never get sick of him. And maybe that’s why Bob likes you so much, you’re one of the few people in his life that makes him feel like Bob. Not Reaper or weak, naive Bo. You make him forget about all of that. And maybe he’s selfish, because he knows that, as soon as he tells you who he really is, that will change, but he likes being just Bob. He likes being your Bob.
“I should go.” Everything else fades away at the thought of seeing you and he bids Mickey goodbye. “I’ll see you later tonight.” He pauses at the front door. “And stop eating all my food.”
“I didn’t— I have no idea what we just watched.”
You laugh as you and Bob walk out of the theater. The temperature has dropped with the sun and your outfit isn’t the warmest, so you move a bit closer to him. He lets you, throwing his arm over your shoulder to shield you from the wind.
“Me neither,” you giggle.
Bob’s car comes into view and he opens the door for you, hurrying to turn the heat on. His car kick starts to life, the digital numbers of 10:05 blink back from his dashboard. You watch Bob’s profile as he pulls out of the movie theater parking lot, your bottom lip tucking into your teeth.
Though you had a fun time with Bob, you somewhat regret suggesting a movie. Because, aside from sharing popcorn and maneuvering over the large movie theater armrests to have a cliche movie date cuddle, you didn’t get a chance to do anything with him. And you really like doing things with Bob.
The two of you joke about the absurd movie you just watched as he drives you home and you do your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. You don’t want this date to end. And, by date four, you’re sure of it - you really, really don’t want Bob to leave you alone tonight.
All too soon, Bob is pulling up in front of your house and putting his car in park. He moves to say goodbye, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and your resoluteness weakens. Trying to hide your dejection, you get out of his car and start to head to your front door. Then you stop. Bob can’t even fully open his car door before you’re turning around.
“I’m ready to use my last question.”
Bob freezes.
You look somewhat nervous, but you’re putting on a brave face, fiddling with your skirt as you hold his gaze. Your feet stay planted on the sidewalk outside your small home, your porch light causing a glow to emanate from behind you. Bob swallows thickly.
“What’s your question?”
You take a breath, and then strengthen your resolve, meeting his eye with a small smile. “Do you want to come inside?”
Bob turns off his ignition.
With every step he takes to follow you to your front door, Bob is at war with himself. He wants to be a gentleman—a good person—and he really doesn’t want to mess this up with you. He doesn’t deserve you, he knows that, but you’re intoxicating. A sugar high he never wants to end. Bob’s always had a sweet tooth and you’re sweeter than anything he’s ever known. He doesn’t want to mess up, but his need for you is only growing as the distance to your house shrinks.
He steps inside cautiously as you turn a light on. “This is a nice place—”
Bob has hardly closed your front door behind him before you’re pulling him down by his shoulders and smashing your lips onto his. It takes a second for his senses to catch up to him, but once they do, his hands find purchase on your hips, your legs hitting the arm of your couch as he responds to your kiss more feverishly.
You pull away with a smirk, watching as Bob swallows thickly with his eyes trained on your lips. “I didn’t really invite you in to talk, Bob.”
Bob feels his grip tighten on your hips. Just from one kiss and that look in your eye, he’s straining in his jeans and it certainly doesn’t help that he can feel the outline of your panties through the fabric of your skirt. In the mere moments he’s been inside your place, Bob really hasn’t been able to stop himself from imagining you bent over every piece of furniture in the room.
“Sweet pea…” He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, restraint heavy in his tone. He doesn’t want to hurt you or take anything too far. He wants it to feel good for you. His eyes snap up to you when you grab his hand suddenly and trail it up to your chest. Unable to stop himself, Bob squeezes your breast lightly. “Are you sure?”
You nod, catching your lip between your teeth. “Please,” you whimper. “Want you to be rough with me.”
It’s like your words unlock something new inside Bob as a gasp leaves your lips as he gives your tit another, harder, squeeze.
“Oh, is that what you like?” Bob’s voice is rough—low—like a switch has been flipped and his eyes are almost black, a deep, oceanic blue that makes you feel like you’ve just changed the tide when you look into them. “Ask me for it then. Like a good girl.”
This Bob is a Bob you haven’t met yet. You recognize him, he’s still the man who shyly teaches you boxing and waits with you at the bakery, that hasn’t changed. But a domineering aura has overtaken him as he looks down at you. His thumb traces your bottom lip and, wordlessly, he slides it into your mouth. You blink up at him, hollowing your cheeks around the digit as he presses down on your tongue lightly.
When all you let out is a quiet moan, he clucks his tongue. “You don’t wanna talk, sweet pea? That's fine. I’m sure you make lots of other pretty noises.”
You squirm, the sound of his voice, his gentle hands, and his dizzying scent all making arousal pool in your panties, and you clench your thighs for some relief. Bob pulls his thumb from your mouth, coating your bottom lip with saliva.
“You gonna show me to the bedroom, sweet girl? Or am I fucking you here on the floor?” You never thought someone’s smile could make you feel like you’re about to climax, but when he grins at you wolfishly, you have to suppress a whimper. “Oh that’s right, you want it rough.”
Bob’s head dips to your ear and he traces the shell of it with his tongue. “I’m gonna bend you over this couch and fuck you until you cry.”
You want to tell him that you’d let him, but all that comes out is a shaky moan.
“You really gotta start using your words, sweet pea.” Bob shakes his head condescendingly and in one quick motion he has your stomach bent over the arm of your couch, the fabric of your skirt lifting with the bend. His hands flip the hem of it over your back, giving him a clear view of your ass and he kneads each cheek between his fingers.
One of his hands wraps around the back of your panties, pulling them tight against your folds. They drag against your clit and you gasp. You can’t see anything he’s doing, so the sound of tearing fabric catches you off guard, but Bob’s wetting his fingers with your slick before you can say anything, a low grumble coming from his chest.
“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy.”
Your toes are only just touching the hardwood—most of your body slung over the couch—and they curl at his words. His index finger slides into you and he lazily drags it back and forth between your walls. His fingers are rough and calloused, textured from the amount of times he’s broken skin and it’s healed.
You try to roll your hips against your couch for added stimulation, but Bob catches you almost immediately, swatting your ass with a growl. “Bad girl. You want something, you ask for it. And you use your fuckin’ manners.”
Though his words are gruff, his finger still stays at its tantalizingly slow pace. You whine into the couch cushions.
“More,” you beg. “Please, more.”
Another finger joins his index one and they’re so thick and they fill you up so good. Your thighs tremble.
It’s almost alarming how well Bob knows your body, how he finds a spot inside you and harps on it until you're wailing. As your orgasm approaches, your legs try to find purchase on the ground, kicking and squirming. The crack of Bob’s hand has you choking on a moan.
“Last warning, sweet pea.” His voice is low and it sends shock waves to your core. “Misbehave again and I’ll leave you here and get myself off with your panties, got it?”
Though the thought has you clenching around his fingers, you do your best to stay still, whining when he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the back of your thigh.
Bob’s weight falls against your back suddenly, his mouth mere centimeters from your ear as he rubs soothing motions up and down your sides. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” His voice is warm and tender, reverting back to the way it always is with you. “Was that okay, sweet pea? Is this okay? We don’t have to—”
“Bob.” Given the circumstances, your voice isn’t that threatening but you’re able to muster up more than a breathless whimper. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Bob’s hands still against your hips, his weight lifting off of you. Your head is still buried in your couch cushion—even if you turn to one cheek, your vision is limited—so you hear Bob unzip his jeans more than you see him. And you hear him spit a wad of saliva onto your cunt. He rubs it into your folds lewdly with one hand, a groan escaping his lips as his spit glistens on your skin.
You cry out as he pushes into you, slowly dragging his cock along your walls. In your lustful haze, you must have missed him putting a condom on, but you feel the smooth latex as he inches into you. His hips press against your ass and he groans as he bottoms out.
“Fuck, you feel so good, sweet pea.” His hands explore the expanse of your back as he starts moving at a harder pace.
Though he’s fucking you—truly and thoroughly—against the arm of your couch, it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s rough, but he’s still gentle. Every movement is meant to bring you closer to release. Bob fucks you like his only purpose is your pleasure.
“That’s a good girl,” he grunts when you clench around him and if this is what good girls get, you don’t want to be anything but. “Droolin’ all over yourself. But you just can’t help it, can you? Messy girl.”
There’s a wet spot darkening the couch from your opened mouth, drool covering your chin and cheeks, but you don’t even care. He’s too much and not enough all at the same time and tears prick your eyes as he pounds into you in repeated, well-timed thrusts.
“That’s right, cry those pretty tears, sweet pea. Who’s makin’ you feel this good?”
“You, Bob! Oh fuck!— You!” You’re crying into the couch now—fulfilling the final part of Bob’s promise—unable to do anything but moan his name and expletives.
You climax with a strangled cry, chest heaving as Bob follows soon after. He runs soothing hands up and down your back to ground you, slowly pulling out as he whispers praises. You can hear his heavy feet against your floors as he moves to discard his condom and then slide on his boxers. You think for the briefest of moments that he might just leave, but then his hand is on your back again and he’s gently lifting you off the couch.
His brows are cinched together with worry when you blink your eyes open. “Are you okay? Was that too much? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you breathe.
Bob chuckles lightly, relaxing. “Yeah, okay, sweet pea. Where’s your bedroom, sweet girl?”
You’re not sure how long you’d been sleeping—it couldn’t have been more than a couple hours—before somewhat frantic rustling wakes you from your slumber. You groan, lifting your tired head from your pillow. Your movements alert Bob you're awake, the man currently pulling his jeans back on, and he rushes over to you apologetically.
“I’m so sorry, sweet pea, this wasn’t how I wanted this to go at all. I swear I was gonna wake you up before I left.” He cups your cheeks with his hands as you blink at him blearily. “Something came up at work. I have to go.”
You rub at your eyes with a yawn, your voice small and tired. “You do?”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize—” He cuts himself off, eyes darting anywhere but your own before he finally looks back at you. “But I need you to know that I want to stay more than anything, I— I am so sorry, sweet pea.”
You hum sleepily as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs and Bob suddenly pulls you in for a hard kiss. “I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers against your lips. “Tomorrow, I promise.”
You only nod, still confused as Bob throws his shirt over his head and gives you one last kiss before dashing out the door. If it were anyone else, you’d be hurt. A small part of you is. But it’s Bob. And he seemed so genuinely remorseful. And you’re still exhausted and half asleep, so this all feels somewhat like a dream. Maybe you can give the man who gave you the best orgasm of your life a bit of a pass.
Something white and rectangular catches your eye before you can go back to bed, laying on the floor close to where Bob had been kneeling minutes prior. You lean over your mattress to pick it up, looking at it in confusion. You have to read over the words a couple times and your brows furrow.
Spiderhead Boxing
783 Ragnarok Road
join my Bob Floyd taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold
Bob taglist: @cottagecori @bobgasm @kmc1989 @berryjuicyy
#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd imagines#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd angst#bob floyd smut#bob floyd au#bob imagine#bob imagines#bob x reader#bob fluff#bob angst#bob smut#bob au#top gun maverick imagines#x reader#sweeter than sugar#under the hard deck#buggy's got a pen
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This was inspired by this ask for my 2k celly!
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI
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You remember the day you met Robert Floyd. You'd just come to California to help open a new branch of your law firm, and you were celebrating a job well done with some of your friends at a Navy bar one of them knew.
You'd immediately spotted him, a wallflower amongst his friend group. He was shy, quiet, and reserved. Just your type. Most people would think that someone like you, a cut throat lawyer who'd been compared to Hades more times than you cared to count, would be drawn to someone loud and in your face.
But just how Hades longed for a breath of spring in Persephone, you desired someone to complete you. Reel you in and bring you back to earth when you became too much.
And that's exactly what Robby did. You'll never forget the look on his face when you confirmed that you were, in fact, talking to him. You spent all night getting to know him. Two days later, he was taking you on a date.
You were now three months into your relationship, and Robby's birthday was approaching. You planned to take him out of town and get a nice hotel suite and hopefully cross that final line in your relationship.
You had suspected that Bob didn't have much experience in the bedroom. What you hadn't expected was for him to almost shamefully admit to you that he was a virgin after the two of you had been making out on your couch and he'd cum in his pants.
You took his face in your hands and told him that there was nothing to be ashamed of, and whenever he was ready, you would cross that line together.
These past two weeks, Bob had been getting bolder when he kissed you. Touching you, pulling your hair, trying to dominate the kiss. You knew that he was ready.
This weekend, the two of you would be alone, and Robby would be all yours, to kiss, to love, to corrupt, to enjoy.
You were giddy the whole drive to La Jolla. You sat in the passenger seat of Bob's truck singing along to a playlist you'd made just for the occasion.
You were beaming when you checked in the hotel, and you were practically bouncing up and down in the elevator and down the hallway to your room. As soon you slid the key into the lock, you were practically dragging your Bob into the room.
He quickly rolled in the luggage and took in the suite.
"Wow, Honeybee, this is amazing. There is only one problem." He said as he faced you.
"What? What's wrong?" You asked him, slightly panicked.
"There is only one bed. Where are we both going to sleep?" He asked you. You threw your head back and chuckled. "We are going to share. We are a couple." You reminded him.
"Right." He said as a blush crept across his cheeks. "Well, it does look pretty comfortable. We should be able to sleep pretty well on it." He says. You can't help but laugh at your clueless boyfriend.
"Oh, Robby, there are so many more things that we can use it for other than sleeping. How about I show you." You purred into his ear as you lead him further into the hotel room.
Bob swallowed thickly as you pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. You kissed him a few times before stepping back and pulling your sundress over your head.
Bob's eyes went wide as you revealed a black lace bodysuit with some tasteful cutouts. He swallowed thickly as you sank to your knees in front of him. You made quick work of his belt, and when you tapped his hips, he lifted them so you could bring his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion.
His cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. You licked your lips as you looked at it. He was long and thick and girthy, with pretty veins wrapping around it. The tip was flushed, the same shade of pink that spread across his cheeks.
"Has anyone ever given you a blow job, Robby?" You asked him as you peered up at him through your lashes.
"N—no." He stuttered out. A wicked smile spread across your red lips before you leaned forward and licked the vein that ran from the base to the tip.
And long groan left his lips as you did so. Determined to see what other sounds you could draw from him, you kitten licked the head, lapping up beads of precum before taking the tip between your lips.
You bobbed your head further down his length, swallowing around him once you reached the neat thatch of hair at his base.
His hips bucked involuntarily, causing you to gag. You moaned at the sensation, hoping he would do it again, but Bob was too polite. You grabbed one of his white knuckled hands and placed it on the back of your head. His fingers tangled in your hair, but he was still frozen as you pleasured him.
You pulled off of him completely and told him, "Robby, you can be a little rough with me. I want you to fuck my face. Okay?" He sucked in a breath and nodded.
You resumed your work, and soon, his hips were bucking into your mouth, and both of his hands tangled in your hair. Bob couldn't stop the cries of pleasure from leaving his mouth as you worked him faster and faster.
"Honeybee, I'm gonna—" but Bob didn't have time to finish his warning before he was shooting thick, hot ropes of his salty cum down your throat.
You swallowed and pulled off of him before sticking out your tongue and showing him that you'd taken all of his release. He looked at you mystified.
"Did you like that, Robby?" You asked him innocently.
"I fucking loved it, Honeybee." He growled as he pulled you into his lap. You moan. Bob rarely cursed, and hearing is pretty mouth say something filthy just did it for you. You quickly whipped his shirt off before he brought your lips together.
His hands roamed all over you body. Eagerly taking in the lace number you were wearing.
"Can I— can I taste you?" Bob asked. This time, you were the one caught off guard shaking your head.
Bob manhandled you on your back as you nestled against the pillows.
He took his time kissing down your body. Your gasps and moans and words of praise spurred him on. He spread your legs wide before settling between your thighs.
"Have you ever done this, Robby?" You ask him. "I tried with my last girlfriend, but I didn't know what I was doing, and she didn't like it." He admits sheepishly.
"It's okay, baby. I'll help you. I'll teach you to eat pussy like a king, but only for me." You smirk at him. He blushes, and you give him the go-ahead. He peppers a few kisses along your thighs before pulling the crotch of the bodysuit to the side.
He placed a few kisses along your glistening cunt before tentatively licking a broad swipe over your folds.
You let out a high-pitched whine. Bob looks up and checks for reassurances before continuing.
He licks your folds over and over before deciding to try something he saw in a porno. He uses his thumbs to open your folds before spitting directly on your clit and sucking it into his mouth.
"Fuck, Robby!" You cry as you arch off the bed. "Was that bad?" He asks you with a panicked look.
"No, fuck, do it again baby." You tell him. Bob smirks at you before repeating the action.
You card your fingers through his hair to help guide him, but soon, Bob has your legs shaking as he buries his face in your sopping cunt.
You're teetering on the edge of an orgasm, slightly afraid he won't get you there when Bob surprises you and sinks two of his thick fingers inside you and strokes your walls.
You can tell he's looking for your g-spot. Once he finds it. Like a good WSO, he zeros in on it and drags his calloused finger tips along it over and over again.
You grind your core against his face and grip his hair tighter before arching of the bed and crying out his name as you cum.
Bob emerges from your thighs with a dopey grin on his face.
"Where did you learn to do that?" You pant out.
"I watched some porn, and I may or may not have asked Phoenix for some pointers." He tells you. "Remind me to send her a fruit basket as a thank you." You chuckle as Bob slides up the bed to join you.
The two of you kisses for what seems like hours. "If you don't want to do anything else today, we can stop." You tell him. "I want to. I'm just—can you be on top? Please." He asks.
"Of course, Robby. Can you help me take this off?" You gesture to your bodysuit.
Bob nods eagrly as he tries to undo the laces of it. He fumbles with them as he hands shake with excitement before he accidentally rips the garment. A look of fear flashes across his face.
You laugh before telling him it's okay. He finishes ripping the entire thing off. You help him lay down on the bed before straddling his waist.
"Wait! Do we need protection?" Bob asks you.
"I'm clean, and I have an IUD. Are you comfortable without it?" You ask him. "Yes. Please. I want to feel you." Bob groans. You smile at him before rubbing your slick folds across the underside of his length.
He grips the sheets for dear life when you take his length into your hand before slowly sinking down on him. Even with his fingers helping to prep you, it's still a stretch. Bob is easily the biggest man you've ever been with.
Once you're fully seated on him, his hands come to your hips as both of you adjust.
You start our nice and slow with your pace. Gauging his reaction the whole time. Once you find a rhythm that has him a panting, mewling mess underneath you, you speed up and ride him with earnest. His grip on your hips tightens as you throw your head back.
"You look so pretty under me, Robby, like a fucking dream." You praise him. He's a sight to behold. A blush spreading from his chest to the tips of his ears, glasses slightly askew, his brow knit, his mouth open and pretty sounds falling from it.
"Honeybee, baby." He groans out. "Yes?" You ask him.
"Can I— can I be on top now? Please?" Bob grits out.
You both whine when you still your hips. Bob sits up but moves a little too fast, causing the two of you to topple over. You land on your back with a oof. Bob's forehead accidentally bangs into yours, and you both laugh.
"Sorry." He mumbles. You reassure him that it's fine. He gives you a kiss on the lips before leaning back on his haunches.
Bob makes a few experimental thrusts before settling on wrapping both of your legs around his slim hips and pushing into your deeply. You can tell his trying to find your g-spot again because he is desperate to make you cum again.
He knows the moment he finds it because you're clawing at his back. He drags the fat head of his cock against it over and over again.
With each stroke, it feels like the tip kisses your cervix with how deep he is. You frantically claw at him and cry out his name over and over again.
"Robby! So close. Please!" You beg him. The truth is Bob is close, too. He's trying to hold out for you. One of his hands leaves its spot beside your head and he brings his thumb to your neglected clit.
"Me too, Bee. You feel so fukcing good." He pants out.
He draws tight circles on it, praying it is enough to get you there. His thrusts become sloppy as he loses his pace and hips stutter.
Bob can't fight it anymore and he cums deep inside of you, crying out your name. Your walls clench around him as his release triggers your own finish. They flutter around his cock as the milk him dry.
Bob collapses on top of you and buries his head in the crook of your neck.
You run your hands through his hair and sooth him with whispered praises as he comes down from his high. He's trembling in your arms.
The two of you stay like that until Bob can form real words.
"That was amazing, Bee. God, I love you. Thank you for being patient with me." Bob says as he kisses your nose a lips.
"Of course, Robby. It was wonderful. I love you too. Now, why don't we get a hot shower, and then we can cuddle." You say. Bob's face falls and he looks a little disappointed.
"Oh." He whispers. "Robby. What's wrong?" You ask.
"I was just hoping we could do it again. There were a few more positions I wanted to try." He grins.
You laugh and smile at him. "Okay, birthday boy. But let's pace ourselves. We have all weekend." You tell him.
Bob grins and reaches for you. It's a good thing that you didn't make any other plans for the two of you because neither of you leaves that suite for the entire weekend.
I wrote this for my "Dagger Deities Extravaganza" shout out to @withahappyrefrain for sending in the ask for this! The like to all the other blurbs can be found here
Tagging some folks who might be interested: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @ohgodnotagainn @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosterbruiser @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @seresinsweetie @my-obsession-spn @eternalsams @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @clancycucumber230 @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @lewmagoo @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloydsbabe @ohtobeleah @rhettabbotts @bradshawsbaby
#cherrycola27#top gun maverick#ask nik#top gun#top gun bob#robert bob floyd#bob fucks#bob floyd#bob smut#lt. robert floyd#bob top gun#cherrys 2k celly#cherrys 1 year celly#the dagger deities
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Day 13: The Company We Keep
Pairings: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!reader
Synopsis: one by one, your friends cut you off after you cost Bob his life in a tragic accident.
Warnings: death, ejections, plane crashes, depression, nightmares, insults & abandonment.
Word count: 1.2k
You remembered everything as if it was yesterday. Every time you closed your eyes, you could still hear his screams. The pained sounds your WSO let out as the two of you plummeted toward the ground haunted your mind when you were alone. If you had your way, you never would have ejected from that jet. You would have gone down with him. The shrink you had been forced to see called it survivor's guilt. Honestly, you didn’t care what it was called. You just wanted this feeling to go away.
In the aftermath of the accident, your friends had become your support system. They were there for you in the dark nights when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Phoenix had held your hair up when you were throwing up in the middle of the night. Jake had forced you to scarf down some food when all you wanted was to disappear. Bradley had practically shoved you into the shower after many days of you neglecting the idea of hygiene. While you appreciated all of their help, none of their actions made the ache in your chest disappear.
Because the thing was, Robert Floyd wasn’t just your backseater. He was so much more than that. You loved him more than anyone else in the world. However, you never got the chance to tell him exactly how much he meant to you. You were the reason that Bob had died. It was all your fault that the WSO had lost his life, scared and alone. For that, you would never forgive yourself.
No matter how much the rest of the Dagger Squad tried to convince you that it wasn’t your fault, you still couldn’t find any reason to believe him. You were his pilot. It was your responsibility to protect him and you had failed.
Just over three months ago, you and Bob had been sent on a mission alone. You were informed that the two of you would be more than enough to take care of the problem at hand. That, however, was not the case. Things had gone sideways mere moments into the mission. Before you knew it, your jet was struck with a surface-to-air missile. Pinned forward, Bob was unable to reach the ejection handle. You, however, were unaware of that.
Had it not been for the sheer panic that filled that moment, you would have been able to detect the fear in his voice. You would have noticed when he lied to you about being right behind you. He promised that he would follow only seconds behind you. You just had to eject. Against your better judgment, you had listened to him. You watched, horrified in mid-air as your jet crashed into the mountainside and erupted into flames. A second parachute never came from your jet. The thought had you feeling numb as you fell toward the ground. Now, here you were, crying into Jake’s arms after waking up from your third nightmare that night.
However, as much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t quite block out the other reason you felt so terrible. Ever since the accident, members of the Dagger Squad had slowly begun to distance themselves from you. Bob’s death had taken a toll on everyone, and while you would argue that you were the most affected, not everyone seemed to agree with that.
The first one to step away was Fanboy. You simply chalked it up to him being upset over the loss of one of his best friends. That was until Coyote and Payback began coming up with excuses to hang out with anyone but you. Honestly, the thought hadn’t had too much of an impact on you until Phoenix began pulling away. She was your best friend. After losing Bob, you couldn’t stand the thought of losing her too. One by one, your friends began to disappear from your life.
You couldn’t really blame them. Not when you were responsible for taking the life of one of their best friends. Everything finally fell apart when you heard Rooster and Hangman talking. You had just come down the stairs, expecting to find the two passed out in various positions in your living room. Instead, you found them in your kitchen, Bradley sitting at the table with Jake leaning on your counter. His arms were crossed over his chest. Just as you were about to round the corner and make your presence known, Jake began speaking.
“At the end of the day, she’s the reason he’s dead, Bradshaw,” A hand slapped over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your cries. You knew why this was coming up now. The therapist you had been seeing had finally cleared you to return to work. Jake only proved your theory when he spoke next. “How are we supposed to be up in the air with her now? How are we supposed to trust her?”
Bradley nodded from his seat at your table. “I know, man,” Your entire body was shaking. These were the people that you trusted your life with. It killed you inside knowing that they couldn’t do the same. However, you couldn’t really blame them. After all, you were the reason that the entire Dagger Squad had to attend Robert Floyd’s funeral. It was all your fault. “She can’t be trusted anymore. It’s as simple as that. Honestly, I’m not even sure why she was cleared to fly again.” With that, they shared a laugh. It was as if everything you were going through was comical to them.
Doing your best to wipe your tears away, a soft sniffle escaped you. They were your best friends. You had just lost the man you loved and now you were finding out that you couldn’t even rely on them to help you through this. Sure, in the beginning, everything had been better. You had your support system there for you whenever you needed them. Lately, your support system had been walking further and further away from you.
So, you sucked it up and walked around the corner. The shocked faces on both of their faces would have brought a small sense of joy to you had you not felt numb inside. “If you don’t want to be here, you can leave,” You started, pointing at the door with a shaky finger. “I know that I fucked up, but I certainly don’t need to hear it from you.” With that, you walked out of the room and back to your bedroom, locking the door behind you.
You didn’t care whether or not they left. All you wanted to do was go back to how things were. With no one around to force you out of it, you fell back into the same state you were in after you lost Bob. Your friends had turned their backs on you, and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore. The only person you wanted was Bob. Even though you knew you could never get him back, he was the one person on your mind as you drifted off. Tears stained your pillow as memories of the accident plagued your mind. This time, there was no one to wake you up when the horrors seemed too real to handle.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Join the taglist!
Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @xeve9809 @inkandarsenic @sunshine245 @malindacath
#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun maverick#bob moodboard#bob x you#bob angst#bob x reader#bob fluff#bob smut#bob masterlist#bob floyd#bob fanfic#robert bob floyd imagine#robert floyd x you#robert bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd fic#robert bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#robert floyd#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd fic#bob Floyd whumptober#Bob whumptober
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Bedroom stare
“Ah know I know it’s odd…but.” You let out a whine while your sister lightly scolds you on the phone. “You know that only applies to you? Come on don’t give in to that trend.”
18+ Minors
She was right, Bob isn’t lightskin like you but: his gaze…the bedroom gaze? No that was a lightskin stare and it was making your eyes see stars. The way Bob looked you up and down then his wide grin widens. You didn’t tell your associate who it was but, your details about him gave it away.
“Bob…May I see your bedroom gaze?”
“Oh Um…” he blushed, “Mask on-“
“Nope nope Mask off. Let me look at you before I lose my mind.” He leans in, his eyes go half lid and his smile went into a grin.
Your body had chills, and you immediately press mini kisses along Bob’s cheeks and lips. The male’s face went red while she straddles his waist.
He lets out a small chuckle before biting against your collarbone and chest, both yours and his body grind against one another until he proceeds to grind eagerly while you both share another kiss.
His hands lightly held your waist then he admires your curls and plump lips. “I knew I was blessed by heaven when I met you.”
“Bobby ya sweetheart.” He buries his face into your breasts, massaging one side while his hand held your waist. It wasn’t long until he starts pushing in and out slowly.
“Bob-“ your hands grip his shoulders, he was only going by the tip and he was still driving the mind insane. You lean back to let out a soft moan before he bucks his hips, your light gasps and moans fill the room.
His gaze never left yours when he kept hitting your sweet spot, each time he did he’d savor each loud moan or a choked gasp leaving your throat. He could feel your walls squeezing around him and yet he didn’t stop until your already squirming form was writhing in pure pleasure. He could listen to you moan his name all night.
The tip was practically kissing your cervix and trying to impregnate you, what was this man on!? You had came twice and he still kept going, the thrusts aren’t even sloppy it was as if he thrived off your pleasure and futility! “C-Close…” Bob chuckles.
Your lips meet his again, then he finally gave one more thrust. Causing a muffled scream to escape, his seed filled your womb as he kept thrusting to release every drop. As if you wouldn’t squeeze it out of him, you gasp then let out a choked up moan while Bob kept grinding to ride out the high.
“Guess you could say the bedroom stare is effective? Right sugar cube?” You whine. “Bob….Why are you hard again?”
#x black fem reader#x black reader#bob velseb x y/n#bob velseb x reader#bob velseb x you#bob spooky month#Bob velseb smut#Bob velseb x reader smut#bob smut
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Rusty pt. 2 |Lewis Nixon|
---SMUT AHEAD--- 18+
Nixon knew better than to respond to her words with the force of every kiss he had stopped himself from planting on her full, pouted lips over the past three years. There were moments where he was so intoxicated (both figuratively and literally) by her that he thought he may reach his breaking point. Had he known there was a similar eagerness within her, this day may have come far sooner.
The way she looked up at him through her long lashes caused a tension in his lower abdomen that she would soon feel the result of, pressed so close against her form. He surveyed the room, taking inventory of just who in the company was even paying attention to the heat radiating from the pair of them in the center of the room. With a war won and a store of alcohol to last them years, they were little more than just furniture for the rest of them to oscillate around.
“Nina…” Nixon spoke gently, leaning forward so his lips were nearly against the shell of her ear. “Tell me I’m dreaming.”
She giggled at the softness of his breath on her skin, “meet me upstairs in five minutes.” When she moved away from him, he immediately felt the ghost of her against his body. There was not a single man in Easy Company, despite how chivalrous they had always been to her, that would not shoot off a toe to be in his position.
Five minutes was both five seconds and five lifetimes while he attempted to make his way naturally towards the doorway of the main room. Grateful for his tendency to disappear to a footlocker full of booze, he realized that it was not likely that many would notice his absence anyway. As he climbed the stairs, he wondered if there was going to be a moment where she would realize that it was him that she was taking to bed, not some other more decorated man from the Company. It was only when he missed a step at the top of the staircase that he reminded himself that wallowing could happen any other inebriated night of his life. Tonight, he steeled himself, he was going to get the girl.
Two light knocks on Nina’s bedroom door with the back of his knuckles was as coy as he could play it. When she said “come in” from behind the oak barrier, he found the knot in his stomach clench.
“Why do you look so pale, Nix?” Nina giggled. She was standing at the dresser in the bedroom, slowly unpinning her hair from its once meticulous place. As he watched each curl bounce free, he felt the heat in his neck and ears. The intimacy of watching a woman take down the trappings of pristine femininity to their natural state was something that had only occurred in his marital bedroom. Never before, never since.
He watched as she placed the pins in a trinket dish on the dresser, crossed the room in her bare feet, the line she drew in her stride slightly askew from the alcohol. He felt the effects the liquor had on himself as well, hopeful that it would not impede his performance--should he make it that far.
Nixon watched as Nina’s tongue wet her lips, watched as they parted into a sweet smile. She reached up and gently touched the hair at his forehead, tucking it back to the side. His eyes studied her face as if he was going to be tested on the slope of her nose, the freckles on her cheeks, the slight gap between her two front teeth, the scar in her right eyebrow.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. Her voice took on a tone he had never heard from her before. He had heard her scream, yell, cheer, and laugh, but the siren song he was hearing in that moment was something entirely new. As new as the flicker that darkened her eyes.
The moment Nixon leaned down to close the space between them, it was if every inch of self doubt had been resolved. The way she hummed against his mouth let him know that she was just as hungry for him as he had been for her. He reached up and held her jaw softly, his other hand tracing her back and down over her hips. She flicked the softness of her tongue into his eager mouth and he felt a twitch grow into a throb in the confines of his uniform. Never in his life had he felt himself light ablaze under the simplest of touches.
When Nina pulled back, she was breathless. Her swollen lips were parted, ghosts of red lipstick on both of their mouths. She gripped his shirt in a fist that loosened as she composed herself.
“Lew…” She breathed, it was only the second time she had ever used his first name, the first time it had been shortened by her affection for him.
“I can’t tell you how fucking long I’ve waited to do that,” his confession bubbled from his lips before he could tell her. Drunk on liquor or passion, he couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other began.
“Well, if you can’t tell me,” she breathed, reaching up and starting to unbutton his shirt with delicate fingers. She looked up into his eyes and smiled coyly, “can you show me?”
“Fuck,” he sighed as she ran her fingertips down over his chest, just the undershirt between them. “Absolutely.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her deeply.
They worked together to get his shirt over his shoulders and onto the floor. His undershirt was soon after. Every muscle that she had watched move beneath his uniform was exposed. Every single one she had considered in her idle time over the last three years were soon to be hers to touch.
There was a beat between the two of them where he checked her eyes for any hesitation while his fingers gently toyed with the zipper at the back of her dress. She nodded, a small smile of appreciation at her lips. When he started to pull down the zipper, his fingertips traced over the exposed skin over her spine. Her skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch. She bit her lip and pulled her shoulders in as he worked to get the fabric down over her arms. With every piece of her that became more and more exposed, he felt his heart start to race.
There was a part of her that worried about the amount of women he had undressed and how the curves of her body compared. Before the war, there had only been one other man to peel away both physical and emotional layers to her to connect so deeply. She wondered if the significance of the fire they were dancing dangerously close to meant just as much to him. One thing was certain, she decided, Lewis Nixon’s hands were the only hands she wanted on her body from this moment forward.
When her dress hit the floor and she stood there, vulnerable, in front of him, Nixon felt something animalistic ignite in him. It took everything in him not to tear the remaining fabric from her body and cover every inch of her with his mouth. In attempts to avoid acting on this instinct, he met her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. He guided her backward toward the bed, her hands working deftly on the buckle of his belt. She groaned when her hand made contact with the anticipation growing in his pants. He sucked in a breath and bit playfully at her lower lip. He left a trail of eager kisses from her lips down over her jaw, feeling the giggle that resounded in her throat vibrating against his mouth.
When his pants hit the floor, he felt the immediate relief from the confines of the fabric. She toyed with the elastic of his boxers, watching him shudder in response. He reached up and tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her close for another kiss to distract her. If she got too handsy, he may not make it to the main event. When he kicked himself out of the legs of his pants, he reached around and skillfully unclasped her bra.
There was no sexy, coordinated way for Nina to get herself back onto the bed. As she crawled, Nixon admired her figure from behind, wondering what he had done in his lifetime to find himself this lucky. Unable to tally it, he shook away the thought and watched as she giggled, laying herself back on the pillows, her hair fanning out around her. Unconsciously, he adjusted the length in his boxers, pulled his socks from his feet, and followed her onto the bed.
“God,” he let his eyes dance over her in appraisal. “You’re incredible.”
Nina rolled her eyes, the heat in her cheeks was not foreign to her. Lewis Nixon had a way of making her flush pink that had been a noteworthy occurrence Easy had not let her forget. She often told them it was only his rank that made her nervous, not the man himself. But God, it was everything about him.
“So,” he leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly, “god,” he kissed her cheek, “damned,” he kissed her neck, “beautiful.” She giggled when he pressed the kiss to her shoulder, his hands cupped both of her breasts. When his thumbs simultaneously brushed against her nipples, she whimpered softly, arching up into his palms. Her hand gently, toyed with his hair, running her fingers back through it as he leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth. Slowly circling his tongue in an effort to elicit more gorgeous new sounds from her parted lips.
Nixon groaned as he worked his tongue, lips, teeth, and fingers over her exposed chest. At the same time, the placement of his body between her legs encouraged her hips to connect with his, calling forth a growl from his throat he had not anticipated. He was beginning to recognize the need he had for her was something wildly foreign and exciting to him. The fear that lingered in the back of his thoughts would have to be tended to in the moments following the plans he had to explore every inch of her body.
When he kissed down over her stomach, he started to feel her muscles tense in her abdomen under his lips. He looked up at her as he toyed with the waistband of her underwear, searching for permission. She bit her lip, eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“What is it?” He asked, gently placing a hand on her thigh. He traced a delicate pattern on her skin.
“I..” There was that pink in her cheeks he had often worked so hard for. He smiled gently and kissed her hip.
“You can talk to me,” he repositioned himself so that he was at eye level with her once more.
“I’ve never had anyone…” She nodded down toward her underwear, where Nixon idly was toying with the satin bow at the elastic. “Use their mouth.” Nixon’s eyebrows raised and he grinned. He leaned down and he kissed her temple gently, his hand reaching up and fingering a strand of her hair. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to…” He couldn’t help but let out a throaty laugh. He rolled on top of her, brushing his nose against hers, then his lips against hers. “You can’t make me do something I’ve spent half the damn war thinking about.” He captured her lips in an urgent kiss, his hand slithering down over her stomach and dipping confidently into her underwear. “Mmm,” he groaned, the moment his finger dipped into the heat between her legs. When she gasped, he caught it in a kiss, greedily swallowing every sound that he earned with the deft work of his fingers.
#fan fiction#fan fiction update#fanfic#fanfic update#band of brothers#BoB#band of brothers fic#band of brothers one shot#band of brothers imagine#band of brothers preference#band of brothers fan fiction#band of brothers fan fic#band of brothers fanfic#BoB Fanfic#BoB fan fiction#BoB fic#BoB one shot#BoB Smut#band of brothers smut#band of brothers smut fic#lewis nixon#lewis nixon fic#lewis nixon one shot#lewis nixon smut#hbo war#hbo war fic#hbo war smut
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makeup sex with rooster. maybe reader and him got into a fight cause he was jealous or something
Worship This Love
Okay, literally perfect, perfect, perfect. I don’t have my computer with me cause I’m visiting my dads, but I will try my best on my phone!!!!!
Also, listen to false god by Taylor swift while reading this. It’s perfecttttt
Summary: makeup sex with Rooster after arguing over how jealous he is.
Warnings: sex, possessiveness, arguing, unprotected sex (wrap the stump before you hump)
••••••
“C’mon Bradley, it was just some random guy at the bar who offered to buy me a drink. It’s not even like I accepted!” You stated matter of factly, quite honestly you couldn’t even begin to understand why you were having this argument. Rooster could be so possessive at times, didn’t even want another man looking at you. It’s like you were arguing with a wall, his back turned to you as you were entering his home.
“Oh, so now I’m just Bradley? Huh?” His words could’ve cut you with how sharp he spit them out, not even sparing a glance your way. “You know, we wouldn’t even be in this situation if you didn’t dress like that.”
Now he was just being mean to you, his words pierced through you. Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to fall but you wouldn’t let them. “So, now I’m just some common whore huh? It’s my fault that a man found me attractive? You know what, fuck you Bradley. I’m going home,” now it was your turn to face away from him. It was your turn to walk away.
He grabbed your wrist stopping you, “let me go,” you said darkly, “I can’t talk to you when your like this,” your hard exterior cracked. His words hurt you, you knew he wasn’t in his right mind. Still, nonetheless, you were hurt.
“Don’t leave, you’re mine Y/N,” he pressed his front into your back, moving your hair behind your ear. Whispering, only for you to hear. “You’re only mine.”
He had a way of doing that, drawing you back in when you were just about to leave. It truly wasn’t fair that he knew what he did to you.
“You know i don’t think you’re a slut, Y/N,” he hummed into your ear, his breath reeking of some strong alcohol. Rooster was always the jealous type, especially when he got tipsy. You could never understand why he was that way, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. “Unless we’re talking about for me, then yes you are. We both know you wanted to make me green tonight, huh? Wear a dress so short that your ass and titties are practically hanging out. You didn’t leave a thing to the imagination, did you?” His words were cruel, but it sparked something in you. Maybe he was right, maybe you unintentionally decided to dress like this for that exact reason. No matter what, he should’ve never talked to you like that. Despite this, His words were like electricity, sparking excitement in your veins. Excitement for what was to come.
You turned to face him, determination set in your eyes. If he wanted you to be a whore, then he would get one. “If I’m such a whore, then fuck me like one,”
That’s all you had to say, that short little sentence and it sent him over the edge. He kissed you harsh, his hands grabbing anything they could get ahold of, your ass, your titties, your hair. He pulled away, “I’ll ruin you for any other man, Y/N. They’ll never stand a chance.”
That’s the one thing he was right about, no one else could have possibly stood a chance compared to him. He lifted you up and pressed you against the wall, your legs squeezing around his waist, his bulge pressing into you. You began to kiss from his neckline to his ear, “oh, sweetheart, you already have,” you bit his ear. You knew it was his sweet spot, something to make him go wild. He began to kiss you and carry you to the bedroom, you only know you were there when he threw you on the bed.
He stood at the edge, watching you panting. “You look so beautiful like this, like a work of art. Hair messy, lip stick smeared, tits out like a common whore.” He said, his voice rough with an edge to it. “Touch yourself,” he demanded. This was new, he had never done that before.
“W-what?” You questioned, confused. He normally hated it when you did that, saying he was the only one who could bring you that pleasure. “You heard me, Y/N, touch yourself. Do it now, or you won’t get anything more from me tonight.”
You did as he said, you always did what he told you. It was a crying shame the power this man held over you, it was something you could never shake. Your hand began to trail its’ way down to your underwear. You couldn’t stop yourself. You circled your clit over you underwear for a moment, wanting to truly tease him. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, you were truly desperate for something, any kind of friction.
“More, Y/N, i want you to make yourself cum,” he stated. You opened your eyes to look at him, you could see the massive tent in his pants.
“Yes sir,” you put on an extra sweet voice, you knew how it effected him. You moved your underwear to the side, you began circling your clit once more. It sent shockwaves everywhere, it was almost too much. It was too good. It went on like this for a few minutes more before you got bored. You were here to fuck your fiancé, not get yourself off.
“I’m bored, baby. I thought you were gonna prove something to me,” you said with a pout. Pulling yourself to sit on the edge of the bed, legs wide open so he could see how wet you were. He began to walk towards you till he was standing right in front of you, his hand reaching towards your chin. He caressed your face, fingers sliding into your mouth. You sucked on them, twirling your tongue on the tip of his fingers. It was almost like you were teasing him till he shoved your fingers down his throat.
“Good girls get what they want, whores don’t. Have you decided what you are?” He questioned you.
“Yes, daddy. I’m your good girl,” once again, you lost the power dynamic. No matter what you did, it seemed like he had the control. “No more dresses like this, i promise.”
His hands moved toward your throat, putting pressure on it and forcing you so you were laying on your back again. He then began to kiss you with his hands wrapped around your throat, it was powerful and possessive. It was everything you loved from him.
“You’re gonna take my cock pretty girl, you’re gonna take it well,” before you knew it he was pulling his pants down and your panties to the side. He didn’t even bother to take your underwear off or your dress. He was gonna fuck you as you were, he wanted to prove a point.
He entered you, slowly but hard. He didn’t give you a second to adjust before he was pounding into you. It felt like you couldn’t breathe from the pressure.
“O-oh my god,” you moaned out. It felt too good, the argument was worth this. He flipped you over, you had to hold yourself up with your hands and knees. He entered you again without the slight gentleness, it was hard. It was borderline painful to be this full.
“Taking it so well, Y/N. You’re my good girl, huh? No one else’s’,” he groaned out, still pounding into you from behind. He was so deep from this angle.
It wouldn’t be long from this position, you knew that he couldn’t control himself like this. He loved to see your ass move against him. He was fucking you into the sheets, you couldn’t even keep yourself up anymore.
“Fuck, I’m about to cum,” you moaned out. It all felt too good, too real. It was too much of him.
“You’ve been a good girl now, c’mon Y/N. You’ve got it,” he groaned out, smacking your ass. You felt it build until it popped, the orgasm released and it was the best you’ve ever felt. You knew he would follow soon behind.
“Almost there, doll. Gonna finish, ruin this dress,” he almost whispered. You were too incoherent to understand what he even was saying.
He fastened his pace and then right before he came, he pulled out and began to jerk himself off over your back till he came thick ropes all over the back of your dress. You gasped once you realized what he did, Rooster never ever pulled out willingly. He liked to finish deep inside you, said it was intimate.
“Rooster! This dress was expensive,” you said in shock. Turning to face him, he had a slight smirk on his face. He did not care, not one bit.
“It was also inappropriate,” he said as he began to take it off you and throw it to the side. You knew that you would never wear it again.
A/N: sorry i tried to rush it out, if it’s not good I’ll edit it later. Also, not proof read
To be tagged: click on this link and type in your @
#smut#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw smut#top gun#top gun smut#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster smut#maverick smut#peter mitchell#hangman smut#bob smut
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staaar!! congrats in 100!!! im so happy for you!
think you'll be up for bob x reader, person a going all out for person b's birthday? 👀👀 (maybe sprinkle in "show me how much you want me"??)
Fireball! Thanks so much for this request and your well-wishes! Here's Bob for you. He's very sweet and I'm happy to report that he does indeed fuck. This is Fluff Request 3 Person A going all out for person B’s birthday combined with Smut Request 7 "Show me how much you need me." I hope you like it!
The Cabin in Calabasas
Robert Floyd, for all of his mild-mannered, glasses-wearing, gentle visage, is a colossal lover of the outdoors. You’d met on a hike, of all things, up in the Calabasas Mountains. He’d seen you lagging behind your group of friends, snapping pictures of the vista, and kept pace with you. You’d chatted about anything and everything as you’d meandered on the cliffs. As the sun set over a ridge, you’d snapped a picture of his face, sweaty but grinning, the sun a halo around his head. That picture is still your contact photo for him, so many years later.
You have other pictures of him, too, on other days and other times where he made you feel like the luckiest woman alive. He’d confided to you once that he was surprised you’d looked twice at him at all. That you’d ever want to be in a relationship with him at all. The Birth Control Glasses, BCGs as they’re known in the Navy, he’d spit with vitriol, had been enough to deter others before. And that was if his colleagues would let him talk to a girl at all. Your Robby, the love of your life, he’d been so nervous when he’d asked you to marry him. He’d looked scared, scared that you’d reject him. Scared that you’d laugh in his face for even considering asking such a thing. He’d cried when you said yes, and that’s your favorite picture. The two of you, with red-rimmed eyes and huge grins, cheeks squished against each other as you stood on the mountain ridge where you’d met for the first time. Bob’s glasses were awry, and your hair was a mess, but you can’t remember being any happier than that day.
You’d stood by Robby through each deployment and each tour overseas. His most recent deployment, the so-called special detachment? You’d had a heart attack when he’d called you from the hospital to tell you that his plane had gone down, but that he was okay, only his glasses had broken. You’d overnighted his second pair of glasses to Miramar, California, and made him promise you he’d come back home.
Six months out from that mission, and a lot of things have changed. Robby’s now permanently located out of Top Gun, and you’ve joined him in Miramar. You still remember seeing his squadron’s faces when you’d walked into their local watering hole, the Hard Deck, two weeks after that mission and plopped yourself down in your husband’s lap. He’d grinned at you, wrapped an arm around your waist, and offered you some peanuts. You smiled, kissed your husband, and stole his soda in return. You’d turned to face the pool tables to see twelve pairs of eyes looking at you in shock. You could feel Robby’s grin and smug chuckle as he kissed your shoulder and introduced you as his wife.
So, all in all, life has been pretty good. You have your husband home and in your arms every night. And coming up on the eve of his twenty-ninth birthday, you’ve been planning up a storm. You’d found a friend of a friend with a cabin on the Calabasas only a couple of miles away from the ridge where you’d met Bob. She’d helped get the non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice up to the cabin and ensured that the oven was connected so you could pop your mother-in-law’s lasagna recipe into the oven when you got there. She’d also packed the cabin larder with all the food the two of you would need for a weekend away, including sticking the lasagna you’d prepped in the freezer.
On the morning of his birthday you wake him up with your mouth wrapped around his cock. This is a part of your Robby that you’ll never share with another soul. His breathy moans as he tangles his fingers in your hair while you choke on his cock? Yeah, that’s yours. Only yours. It’s a good morning all around when he fucks you in thanks until your legs are wobbling and his cum is dripping down your thighs as you brush your teeth while he shaves later.
The soft, sweet smile he gives you when the two of you pull into the parking lot at the trailhead in Calabasas is enough to send all the love you have for him glowing in your chest. The atmosphere is light as the two of you walk leisurely along the trail you’ve walked a million times before. You’ve got your camera in hand as you approach the top of the trail, and you’re busy as a bee, snapping pictures of everything that catches your eye. As a besotted fool, it’s no wonder that the subject of many of your photos is sweet Robby.
The two of you spend forty-five minutes on the ridge, stopping to eat a snack and drink some water, before you lead him onwards. You can see the confusion on his face as he pushes his glasses up his nose when you lead him off the path you’ve followed together so many times before. It’s only a half an hour more when you step out through the trees and see the cabin sitting in a charming little clearing in front of you. You stretch before tugging on Robby’s hand to get him to follow you.
“Angel, where are we? What’s going on?” He’s grabbed your hand and stopped you just shy of the porch steps. Your own smile is incandescent as you press into his skin and kiss his soft lips.
“This, Robby,” you say, gesturing at the cabin, “is your birthday present! A weekend in the Calabasas, with your favorite things and your favorite person.”
His eyes grow misty and fond as he reels you into a kiss which has you weak at the knees before releasing you to open the door. The cabin is exactly as it had been advertised, rustic and homey, and absolutely gorgeous. The kiss you get as Robby presses you against the now closed door is extra proof that he loves his present. As are his wandering hands as he divests you of your clothing before laying you down on the sofa.
“Angel, my darling sweetheart, my beautiful wife.” He’s panting as he looks at you spread out for him. “I love you so much. I thank my lucky stars every day that I met you on that hike. And that I was brave enough to ask for your number. And I thank you every day when I wake up in the morning and see you lying in bed next to me.”
“You thank me?” Your fingers are soft as you cup his jaw, running your fingers through the hair curling just slightly at the back of his neck. “Why?”
“Because you said yes when I asked you to marry me.” He presses a kiss against your breast before looking back into your eyes. “Because you make me so happy, every day. Because I don’t think I’d have found the strength to continue working for the Navy if I didn’t have you cheering for me every day, BCGs and all.”
It's your turn to cling to your husband as you kiss him with all your strength. Your hands wander, unbuttoning his shirt and shoving it off of his built chest before you undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. When you slip your hand in to cup his cock, he’s already hard, his thick length twitching in your grasp. As much as you love the man wielding the cock, you love his cock too. It’s thick and fills you up just right and you never fail to walk funny when he gets going. But while normally, Robby lets you position him as you want, today, he holds your hand.
His voice is throaty and sexy as he rasps, “Show me how much you need me.” Your moan is soft as you part your legs and hold apart your folds until he can see the glisten of your arousal. He drags his glasses off, setting them on the coffee table before he wraps his lips around your clit. This time, your back arches as he sucks on your clit, trailing his fingers through your slick before burying one long digit in your hole. You're seeing stars in no time at all as he slides another finger in and begins to scissor you open. This is always a requirement for when you have sex. You're often too sore when you take him without prep, something that worries him as much as it makes his chest puff with pride.
You're on the brink of an orgasm when he withdraws his fingers and you prop yourself up on your elbows to see what he does next. He uses your arousal to slick up his cock and the first blunt press of the head into you has your eyes rolling back into your head.
"Oh, Angel. You take me s'good. I love how tight you are." Robby peppers kisses across your chest and slack mouth as he fucks into you until you've taken him to the hilt. Your hands are curled around his neck as you kiss him, groaning as he begins to move. Each thrust hits that spongy spot in you that makes your toes curl. It's not long before you're babbling, walls fluttering spasmodically around his length as your orgasm approaches.
"Gonna fuck a baby into you, Angel. Gonna make you a pretty Mama. Can't wait to see your belly all round with my babies." His voice sends even more arousal pooling in your gut as you beg him to let you cum. It's only three short strokes before his fingers find your clit and your orgasm explodes behind your eyes. You can feel Robby's hips lose momentum as he spills into you shortly after.
For several moments, it's quiet. Sweat cools across your skin and his, before Robby pulls his glasses on and walks butt-naked into the kitchen to wet a paper towel and grab you a glass of water. His smile is sheepish and soft as he cleans the cum dripping from between your thighs before drawing you into his lap. You curl easily into him, loving the softness of his skin against your own.
"Robby?" Your voice is soft as you card your fingers through his hair. "What was it you said about wanting to put a baby in me?"
His face flushes, a blush rising on his cheeks as you kiss him before rising out of his lap and walking into the kitchen. He's right behind you as you preheat the oven, still naked, and pull out the lasagna from the freezer. His eyes are soft as they chronicle every move you make.
"Angel, I said I wanted to have a baby with you." His hands are gentle as he pushes you aside and gently pops the cork on the sparkling grape juice. He pours you a glass before sipping on it himself. The bubbles burst crisply across your tongue as you sip on the juice.
You can't resist the smile on your face as you step into your husband's arms before whispering, "Lieutenant Floyd, I think you need to get the prescription on those BCGs checked. There's a Baby Floyd On Board already. This one's been cooking for about 3 months."
He whoops in glee as he swings you around before kissing you hard, murmuring tearily into your ear, "Thank you for going all out for my birthday. I love you, Mrs. Floyd."
Want to request something for my 100 Follower Celebration? The guidelines are here! Please leave me a request in my inbox with your ask!
- XOXO Star
#star writes#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction#100 follower celebration#robert floyd x reader#bob x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob imagine#bob smut#bob fluff#top gun imagine
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Boozy ask:
Coming home early to find Bob pleasuring himself and moaning your name
Oof. Ya'll are thirsty for Bob tonight. I like it. (I mean big same, honestly)
NSFW
this one got away from me (sorry)
You managed to finish up at work, and miracles of miracles, your boss let you leave early. You drop your keys on the kitchen counter, setting the oven to pre-heat so you can pop dinner in the oven before Bob gets home. Deciding to indulge in your happiness you pour yourself a glass of wine and head upstairs to change into comfy clothes.
Halfway up the stairs, you can see that your bedroom door is partially closed, a light creeping into the hallway. You creep toward the bedroom, freezing when you hear a quiet moan that's all too familiar. Carefully, you peek through the opening.
Bob's sitting on the edge of the bed, his flight suit laying discarded on the floor. He's down to a thin white tank-top, his boxers down around his ankles. His head is tipped forward, glasses sliding down his nose, his hand wrapped around his cock. He's stroking himself hard and fast fucking into his fist. Another breathy moan slides past his lips, and your knees go weak when he moans your name. You see a flash of green tucked into his fist that's around his cock, remembering that you had initially put on green panties this morning before he took them off of you and ate your pussy for breakfast.
He's close. His breathing is ragged and harsh, your name whimpered the slick sound of his hand against his cock makes you press your thighs together tightly. He doesn't jerk off often and to see him like this was damn near panty dropping. Panty soaking at least.
He comes with a grunt, body tense, back arched slightly. His hand stills. Eventually his shoulders relax, and his breathing slows as he wipes cum from his stomach and hand with the panties he used.
"You going to join me in the shower?" Brilliant blue eyes meet yours, his mouth quirking up in to a lopsided grin. "Or would you prefer to watch there too?"
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|| Robert 'B.O.B' Floyd Masterlist ||
i DO NOT consent to copies or translations of my work!
hello my little cassettes! here is where you can find all of the stories that feature robert 'bob' floyd!
general taglist
series
sorry... none yet 😅
but one is in progress👀
angst
sorry... none yet 😅
smut -- 18+ MDNI
-> "you're more than a one night stand" (bob floyd x bartender!reader)
fluff
-> Rodeo (bob floyd x pilot!reader)
-> Friday Night Moonlight (bob floyd x reader) -- high school!AU -- for rocktober
#vinny's multiverse#robert bob floyd masterlist#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fanfic#bob floyd#bob#bob smut#robert bob floyd smut#bob angst#robert bob floyd angst#bob fluff#robert bob floyd fluff#x reader#x oc#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x oc#top gun maverick#top gun#sarahsmi13s masterlist#sarahsmi13s
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Locked out
This was requested a while back (sorry) by @lizzieann143 who wanted a dom!Bob x sweet!reader.
Minors, DO NOT INTERACT I will block you so fast.
Tw p in v sex, unprotected sex, not pulling out?? rough sex and Bob because baby he comes with a warning of his own
Taglist: @blessupblessup --
The Hard Deck wasn’t officially open anymore, but the door wasn’t locked and you knew the dagger team would still be playing pool. You pushed the door open with one hand, the other holding your phone with which you had been trying to call your housemate.
« Hey, is Jake there ? » You asked the only aviator Jake had ever introduced you to.
« Went home with a girl » Coyote said « Did you forget your keys again ? » He laughed
You smiled
« You have to stop losing your keys, he can’t drop everything and come and save you every time »
« Sure he can. This living arrangement needs to work for the both of us. I cook and clean and he lets me in when I forget my keys. »
Coyote laughed again.
« Where are you going to sleep then »
You gave him a warning glance because you knew where this was going, but you were not interested and even if you were, you were pretty sure Jake would skin him at the next chance. You had a rule, no sex with friends. He could fuck the whole world and you wouldn’t complain but if he glanced flirtatiously at any of your friends, he would sleep in his car and never speak to you again. He held you to that same rule.
You valued your friendship too much to ever break that deal.
« I’ll find someone to go home with, don’t worry » You winked and he nodded. You meant that in a less sexual way than it sounded like, but now the words had come out of your mouth, the prospect of maybe sleeping with someone sounded kind of nice.
« Any chance you could wingman me ? » You asked, Coyote wasn’t attracted to you in any other way than physical so it didn't feel like rubbing salt in the wound.
« Not outside of the team »
« Anyone he isn’t friends with ? »
« Rooster probably » Coyote said and you winced « Or Bob »
You looked at Bob. You weren’t sure what to expect in regards to a guy whose call sign seemed to be his own name, but that wasn’t it. The man you were looking at was gorgeous.
Bob had overheard the entire conversation. He saw you glance at him and figured you had already chosen your proverbial victim. He was happy it was him.
« Yes please » You said, your eyebrow had cocked up appreciatively and your voice had a suggestive hint. He almost choked on his peanuts.
Coyote moved from his seat, and walked up to him. Bob tried to keep a straight face as the other man wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him towards you.
« Bob, can I introduce you to my friend Y/N ? She’s really sweet »
« Hi Bob » You said. You had spent far too much time with Hangman, he concluded, you had the same habit of slipping into a southern accent when you flirted. Although, it was less grating on you, and absolutely part of your charm when directed at him.
Bob guessed that when Coyote had introduced you as his friend, it was an exageration, as the first question you asked clearly showed you didn’t trust his opinion.
« So, are you and Jake friends ? »
« No, we don’t really talk »
They were definitely not friends, but hell he would put up with the guy forever if it meant he could keep on being looked at like you were looking at him. Bob imagined a hunting tiger had the same look in their eyes before jumping on their prey. He wondered briefly if you’d be surprised to find out he wasn’t as much of a goody-two-shoes in bed as he acted like in public.
It wasn’t an act, he was a shy man. He hated social groups, although he put up with this in an effort to get to know the team. But sex was where he took control.
No, he thought, you acted a little too self-assured. You’d be into it.
« Heard he locked you out. »
« Yes, I guess I’ll have to sleep in my car »
« That sounds uncomfortable »
« Well, it’s my only option… Unless you have any other ideas ? »
Bob stifled a chuckle. He wasn’t usually one for one-night-stands, but maybe this didn’t have to be one, he thought. So, he gathered all the courage he had and tried to match your flirtatious manner.
« Why, yes, I do. »
He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar.
This was so far out of your comfort zone. You were usually a relationship person, but hey, Jake swore by it, so maybe it wasn’t all bad. And Bob seemed nice, he was polite, he was gentle and he still hadn’t let go of your hand, which you were grateful for, both because it brought you comfort and because it kept you from asking him to stop the car and drop you off.
« We don’t have to do this » He said once you were inside. Bob was an observant man, a talent he picked up after many years of wallflowering parties he had been dragged to.
« I want to » You said. He moved closer, his hands grazing the strap of your tank top. He moved it down and lowered his head to kiss your neck in slow, open mouthed kisses.
« Okay, I’ll be gentle » He murmured between kisses. Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed down your shoulder
« No » You said. You weren’t sure why, especially since you had never allowed anyone else to be anything but gentle with you. But then again, you had just gotten out of a bad break up, which was the only reason you lived with Jake in the first place. Maybe you just wanted something completely different.
Bob bit down into your shoulder. It surprised you and you could not control the pornographic moan that passed your lips.
« You like that Baby ? » He asked, his voice low and gruff « You like it when I mark you ? »
You could only whimper as every word he said sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. Bob guided you towards the couch were he allowed you to lie down before climbing on top of you for a searing kiss. You rocked your hips up and he hissed, moving one of his hands down to keep you anchored down to the couch. He bit down on your collarbone, and you were certain he would leave a mark. The pain and pleasure made you struggle against the hand weighing you down.
« I don’t like it when my girl disobeys. So if you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to be good. » His hand on your waist became a fist as his fingers balled around the band of your skirt. Now his digits had breached the barrier of the fabric, you could only think of one thing.
« Think you can be a good girl for me ? » He growls in your ear. You moan again. Bob chuckled, nibbling at the skin of your neck and occasionally licking a stripe. Once he deems his work on your neck to be satisfactory, he moved down to your chest, sucking hickies on your skin.
He was going so slowly, taking his time to explore every part of you. It was agonising and Bob knew it, the more you moaned and whimpered the slower he got. And when he eventually removed your shirt and revealed your breasts, he ignored your aching nipples alltogether. He wanted you to ask and beg for his attention.
Bob trailed down to your tummy and then to the waistband of your skirt. He didn’t go further though. He looked at you instead. You knew what he wanted and as much as you were desperate for him, you were actually enjoying the torture. But watching him smirk so close to your core made you want to feel what else he could do.
« Please »
« What do you want ? »
« Anything, please. Just –«
« Christ, you are a needy girl » He said appreciatively. Bob pulled your skirt up and trialed a finger up and down your panties. It felt like heaven, you could get lost in that feeling. You felt a little pathetic like that, completely undone on Bob’s couch and begging for his touch. Suddenly his finger was replaced by something else , Bob’s lips cradled your clit over your underwear. He sucked sharply. Bob laughed at your reaction and two of his fingers brushed your underwear aside to find your entrance. He first fit in a finger before abandoning after a few strokes and fitting in a second one.
« You’re so wet for me baby »
You hummed in agreement, then he removed his fingers altogether and climbed back up to crash his lips onto yours in a bruising kiss before leaving you needing more as he stood up to remove his trousers. He made quick work of his belt, jeans and boxershorts before pushing your panties to the side once more and quickly dipping his fingers into for a quick taste
« Fuck baby, you taste so good »
« Jesus, Bob » You snapped in frustration « Get on with it »
« Oh, you getting mouthy now ? »
He flipped you on your front with a single movement and smacked your ass with much force that the noise echoes off of the walls and your eyes filled with tears.
« You’re going to learn, sweetcheeks, that you don’t get mouthy with me »
He spanked you again.
Then, as soon as his hand left your cheek, you felt him fill you with his member. The pain and pleasure you were feeling were making it hard for you to think. But your body responsed to every single touch, happy to have been given what it had been craving for so long.
Bob snapped his hips into you with dizzyingly slow thrusts, almost savouring the feeling of you around his cock. Each stroke hit that sweet spot inside of you but you didn’t dare try and speed up the the process in fear that he might stop. You eventually reached your orgasm and the intensity of it made your legs shake.
« Jesus Christ » Bob whispered, he seemed to lose all self control. Suddenly his hips snapped into yours and the speed kept picking up. The grip he had on your waist was bruising but you were too lost in your own pleasure to care. You hadn’t even noticed you were being loud until Bob covered your mouth. It was lazy and his fingers barely covered your lips which told you Bob was only pretending to care that his neighbours might hear, and the fact that he liked you being loud only added to the arousal you felt right then. Then, his thrusts became more erratic and you knew he was nearing his own release. The speed of his thrusts were moving you towards your second orgasm at dizzying speeds
« Where do you want me to come ? You want me to fill you baby ? »
You nodded furiously. And as soon as you tightened around his member, you felt Bob release himself inside you. He fucked himself through his orgasm. He moaned with every thrust, joining your whimpers and groan until eventually he stilled inside you and you both caught your breaths.
Eventually he pulled out and left to get a washcloth to clean you up, careful to smack your ass as he stood up. You watched him stroll away with all the confidence of a man who knew he’d fucked someone so hard they couldn’t walk. And you removed your phone from the pocket of your skirt to check the notifications. Six texts from Jake.
« Back at the Hard Deck »
« I have your keys »
« Where are you ? »
« Coyote said you left with Bob ? »
« OH »
« HOLY SHIT »
"YES GIRL! MAKE BABY ON BOARD A MAN!!"
#fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun x reader#fanfiction#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob x reader#bob smut#requests#original fic
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Whiskey, Neat
Summary: You came out to California for a fresh start. Sometimes, new beginnings look just like old flames.
Pairing: Bob x Reader
Warnings: Language, alcohol, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of Smut. Minors DNI 18+
...........................................
Part 1
You'd rolled into Miramar with a trail of dust behind you and a faded black Stetson hat on your head. Fresh off of a break up and high on a promotion, you were itching to make a name for yourself here.
You'd almost turned down the chance to have a permanent station at Top Gun, hell, you would have if you hadn't caught your ex-boyfriend kissing his ex-girlfriend right after his winning bull ride in Tulsa.
You didn't even let him explain. You didn't want to hear his excuse. Instead, you smoked a Marlboro Red for the road, grabbed your things, and called the Admiral who'd offered you the position that night.
The next day, you were on a plane to California. You, Lieutenant Commander Y/N "Whiskey" Evans, were to be the new fighter maneuvers instructor at Top Gun. You'd also be a part of the elite Dagger Squadron that went on high-risk missions.
....................
You'd taken a few days to get acquainted with base. Phoenix, the only other woman pilot in the group, had been assigned to show you around. The two of you had already formed a bond, and she was taking you out for drinks to meet the rest of the team.
You had put on your favorite pair of cut-off jean shorts, shimmying them on over your thick thighs and round rear. A fitted black tank hugged your chest. Your trusty boots and your signature black cherry lipstick complimented your Stetson to finish off the look.
.....................
The evening was going well until Phoenix introduced you to her WSO. Your heart stopped, and your breath caught in your chest.
The moment you saw him, you were met with an almost familiar set of blue eyes.
You could have sworen you heard God laughing at you.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You said as he went to shake your hand.
Bob looked at you confused.
"Where are you from?" You asked him quickly.
"Well, my folks and I moved to Tennessee when I was seventeen, but I grew up in Wyoming." He tells you, taken aback by your boldness.
"You're from Amelia County, aren't you?" You press him.
"Um, yeah? My mom's family still has a ranch there in Wabang. My aunt and uncle run it. How'd you know that?" He looks at you confused.
"Royal and Celia? The Abbotts?" You ask.
"Yes—" He says slowly.
"Son of a bitch." You cry out. This would be your luck.
"Celia is my mom's sister. How— how do you know them?" Bob asks you.
"So that makes you Rhetts cousin, right?" You say.
"Yes, Rhett is my cousin. You still haven't answered my question." Bob replied. His voice raising a decibel as he firmly planted his feet in front of you. The rest of the squad watched the interaction with baited breath.
"I moved to Wabang when I was sixteen. Graduated from Amelia County High. My mom and Celia were in prayer group together. Royal and my dad were rodeo buddies. After I graduated, I went to the Academy. Went to flight school and Top Gun after that. Did two tours overseas, and then my dad passed. Went back to Wyoming and met Rhett. Well, re-met him. We graduated together." You began to explain.
"You know you look almost identical to him." You tell Bob with an long exahle.
"We got that a lot growing up. But I take it, because of your—less than stellar reaction to meeting me, something happened between you and Rhett?" Bob inquires.
"He charmed me. I gave him almost two years of my life, following him along the bull riding circuit. We got lucky that my duty stations were always near where he was riding." You continue.
"But two weeks ago, we were in Tulsa. He'd just won the whole damn thing. I went to the pits to congratulate him, and there is was, all over his ex." You finish as you take a sip of your whiskey neat.
"Maria?" Bob asks. You nod. "He never did get over her, did he?" Bob shakes his head in disbelief.
"Guess not. I didn't even give him a chance to explain. I grabbed my shit and left him." You finish.
Bob shrugs. The rest of the squad looks around, unsure of what to say.
"Well, small world, I guess." Hangman states clearing his throat.
"Sure is." You tell them before grabbing a pool cue to play a game.
After the rocky start, you and Bob seemed to get along. Aside from looks and the accent, Bob and Rhett were nothing alike. It was crazy to you how they could have the same jaw line and blue eyes, yet be so different.
The more you looked at him, the more subtle difference you noticed. Bob kept his hair neat, and it was a bit lighter than Rhetts mess strands. Bob's eyes were brighter. Bob was also leaner than Rhett was. Rhett was stocky but soft from the beer he drank, while Bob was broad from years of having to stay in shape for flying.
As the night went on, you danced and drank with the team, fitting right in. But you couldn't help notice the way Bob's eyes never left you.
........................
It should feel wrong, it really should, but after six weeks, you found yourself on a date with Bob, or Robby, as you had taken to calling him. Once your brain had gotten out of the way, and you stopped listening to the little voice in your head telling you that he was going to hurt you like Rhett did, you found out how great of a person Bob was.
He treated you better than anyone had before.
He was kind, gentle, and a man of his word. He was giving, and protective, and so funny.
The first time you slept with, you were overcome with pleasure. It's always the quiet ones, you thought.
You'd been dating for four glorious months when trouble rolled into the Hard Deck.
.......................
It was a Friday evening, just like any other. You were out with the squad. Bob and Phoenix had to stay later for checks on their aircraft. You were at the bar getting your drink when you felt a familiar hand press against your hip.
"Hey there han—" your sentence stopped when you turned to face him.
"Rhett." You spat. "What are you doing here?"
"I qualified for nationals. It's here in San Diego. I asked around at the hotel, and they said this was the place that the Navy people hung out. I came to find you, Honeybee." Rhett drawled out.
"Well, you're wasting your time. I don't have anything to say to you." You turned and tried to get away from him, but you were trapped by the sea of people.
"Whiskey, please, can we talk. Just give me five minutes." He asked.
You sighed and motioned for him to follow you to the back deck.
As you walked out, Rooster saw you and someone who looked just like Bob, but definitely wasn't Bob, walk out with you. That must have been who you were talking about a few months ago. He made the mental note to let Bob know what was going on as soon as he saw him.
..................
Rhett spent the next five minutes trying to convince you that he didn't do anything wrong. But you weren't listening to him. He wasn't worth it. So, you stepped away from the railing of the deck to leave.
"Honeybee, wait." Rhett said as he grasped your arm. You turned to face him.
"You don't get to call me that anymore, Rhett. You lost that right as soon as you kissed Maria." You gritted out.
"It wasn't what it looked like, Whiskey. You ran off before I could explain myself." He defends.
"She was wearing your hat, Rhett. The one I bought you." You state. "Honeybee, please. You have to believe me. She took it. She kissed me." Rhett explains. He's trying to reason with you.
"I've changed. I wouldn't do that to you." He pleads.
"Did you sleep with her?" You ask him.
"What?" He asks, raising his eye brows.
"The night I caught you, the night I left you in Tulsa. Did. You. Sleep. With. Maria?" You punctuate each word of the question.
Rhett looks like a kicked puppy. He doesn't meet your eyes. He doesn't have to answer your question. The silence speaks louder than any of this words.
"You haven't changed a bit, Rhett. You're always going to choose her. I deserve someone who is going to choose me. You should have never come out here. It was a mistake." You tell him before turning on your heels to walk away.
"Honeybee, please!" He pleads with you. He grabs your bicep to stop you from walking away. He pulls you roughly towards him.
"Rhett." You warn him in a low voice. "Please, just give me another chance." He's almost begging.
"Let me go." You tell him as you try to pull away, but you're stuck. Trapped in his firm grip.
"I'm not going to let you walk away from me. I can be better for you." Rhett tells you.
"I have someone who's better for me. Now, let me go." You tell him.
"Let her go, Rhett." Bob's voice rings out.
Both of you catch sight of him as he walks out to the deck of the Hard Deck.
It takes Rhett a minute to recognize his cousin. You guess he wasn't expecting to see him here.
He looks between the two of you before speaking.
"This doesn't concern you, Bobby. Go back inside with your friends. This is between me and the little lady here." Rhett tells him.
"That's where you're wrong, Rhett. This does concern me." Bob states as he walks closer to the two of you.
He stares down Rhett, whose grip on you hasn't wavered.
"That's my girl that you've got a hold of there. So you can either take your hands off of her yourself, like she asked. Or, I can do it for you."
So! This is my first crossover fic! Be kind! Let me know what yall think!
Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @youlightmeupfinn @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia @emorychase @potato-girl99981
#top gun maverick#cherrycola27#top gun#top gun bob#robert bob floyd#bob x reader#bob smut#lt. robert floyd#rhett abbott#rhett x reader#outer range#crossover#tgm fanfiction#tgm#tgm fic#top gun 2
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Fanboy Masterlist🦋
⚠️Some of these stories may contain explicit content, so please do not read if you are under 18⚠️
Organized from the oldest to the most recent.
guide: fluff=♡ angst=• smut=**
One Shots:
Headcanons:
Not Having Enough Of You **♡
Moodboard:
Date Nigths📷♡
Drabbles:
#mickey garcia smut#mickey 'fanboy' garcia smut#danny ramirez smut#mickey garcia fluff#mickey 'fanboy' garcia fluff#danny ramirez fluff#top gun smut#top gun cast#top gun fic#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw smut#rooster smut#jake seresin smut#jake hangman seresin smut#hangman smut#natasha 'phoenix' trace smut#natasha trace smut#bob smut#Robert 'bob' floyd smut#robert floyd smut
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ANGST
Devil Doesn’t Bargain
Bob has spent months watching your boyfriend be someone completely different than you think he is. The WSO is there to hold you when your world stops. All because of a man that you thought you could change. Warnings: angst, crying, cheating, drinking.
SMUT
COMING SOON…
FLUFF
Office Make Out Sessions
A series of stories of you and your husband almost getting caught making out in various locations. Plus the one time you did. Warnings: semi smut, drinking, pregnancy.
The Proposal
Bob proposes to you during a night out at the Hard Deck. Warnings: None.
Bagman’s Sister
When Jake introduces the Dagger Squad to his sister, the last person that Bob expected was his fuck buddy. Warnings: Friends with benefits, allusions to smut.
Surprise
The Dagger Squad learns about Bob’s engagement in an unusual way. For him, at least. Warnings: None.
Dreamland
You and your husband make a decision on how long you can keep living in dreamland. Warnings: Light angst.
Dinner Plans
You may have forgotten to mention to your husband that his friend’s were coming over for dinner. What could go wrong? Warnings: Allusions to smut.
From A Lover’s Point Of View
After a long day at work, spending the evening with your husband and his guitar is exactly what you need. Warnings: light angst.
SERIES
Bagman’s Sister
Bob’s life had been going pretty good. He was part of a permanent detachment at Top Gun, he had amazing friends around him, and to top it all off, he was seeing an amazing woman.
That was until he found out that the woman he was seeing was Jake Seresin’s younger sister. Now it’s time to find out if everything will come crashing down around him, or if you and Bob can manage to keep the secret. Warnings: Friends with benefits, smut, angst.
MOODBOARDS
Bagman’s Sister || Moodboard
The Proposal || Moodboard
Bob || Moodboard
#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun angst#top gun smut#top gun series#Robert Floyd#Robert Bob Floyd#bob x reader#Bob Floyd fluff#bob Floyd angst#bob floyd smut#Bob Floyd masterlist#bob fluff#bob angst#bob smut#bob series#bob masterlist#top gun masterlist
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soap is the type who sends u videos of him jerking off ): but he never lets u see him finish. he just sends u little clips of him slowly stroking himself, showing u how leaky his cock is and the complete mess his precum is making all over his hands.
it makes your mouth water and ur panties wet and his little videos always leaves you wanting to see more. u wanna see the way his cock twitches and throbs and spits out thick globs of cum all over the place. u want to hear the pretty, sweet way he moans and groan through the pleasure. you want to watch how his thighs and abs twitch as he strokes himself through his orgasm.
he's so far away, he won't pick up your calls, he just sends a dumb smiley face when u text him that u want more ):
he sends u pictures of his fat, fat cock wrapped in his big hand with remnants of his cum on his fingers. it makes you whine because of course he didn't let you see him cum bc he's so fuckinf mean!!!! you so vividly remember how it feels in your own hands and how it tastes and you want it so bad and he KNOWS how badly he's teasing you
you can't do anything but replay the 30 second clip over and over and over again to watch him squeeze and stroke himself, watching the mess of precum drip down and imagine yourself licking it up </3 you're so embarrassed when you make yourself cum to a little 30 second silent video of him showing u his big, messy cock and vow that you'll pay him back one day for how mean he is when he's away </3
#INHALE#standing above a hole like doodle bob !!!!!!!!#ME HOY MINOY !!!!!!!!!!!#soap smut#soap x reader#john mactavish smut#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish smut#cod x reader#cod smut
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Falling |Carwood Lipton|
Carwood Lipton wasn’t sure when he fell in love with Hazel Barnes. It came on him subtly and somehow all at once. There was an overwhelming feeling of knowing all along in the exact moment where he realized it for the first time. When he thought about it, between drills that demanded equal parts of the brain and body, training on strategy, and preparations to jump from an airplane, he narrowed it to five very specific moments.
--SMUT WARNING-- 18+
When Lipton knocked on Hazel’s door, there was an eagerness in each thud of his fist that he knew would pervade every moment of their night together. When she opened it, he felt like he was looking at her for the very first time. It was the hitch in his gut, just that subtle constricting movement, a blip if you weren’t paying attention. It was the same exact internal movement that he felt the first time he caught her eye in that smokey pub in town.
She was throwing her head back in laughter. Something one of the soldiers in Dog Company had said caused her to throw her head back and let out a belly deep, unabashed, and entirely contagious laugh. It was so striking that it completely pulled Lipton from a conversation he was sharing with Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon. He turned his head to follow the sound. The dark curtain of perfectly shaped waves fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, lashes fanning over her cheeks, reddened with giddiness. The curve of her full lips as they parted into an open-mouth smile made him lick his own subtly. There was something about the graceful curve of her neck, the soft and delicate redness from the heat in the room drawing his focus in. He swallowed. And when she collected herself, the smile lingering on her round face, they locked eyes. Under her gaze, he felt the hitch in his abdomen, like the tightening of a belt around his gut. He smiled softly, as if testing her unpredictable waters. And then it was his turn to be the target of that sweet smile. God, did he never want it to be anyone else.
“Hi, love,” she smiled, she had been waiting for him. No one else was quite able to make her smile just like he did. He noticed it as he watched her gracefully navigate a room, never once showing the same smile he had grown to pry from her with greedy hands. He stepped in, a response to her widening the door, an unavoidable smile conjured upon his own lips. How could he stop himself when he was around her? “Tea?”
He shook his head in response when she gestured behind her toward the kitchen, “no.” He looked over her form, feeling a pang of jealousy at the way her dress was so closely able to hold to the natural curve of her hip. She walked toward him. A waft of her perfume got to him before she did. When he inhaled, he felt the buzz of a less sober man. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek gently, he thanked his arms for instinctually finding purchase on those same hips he had admired seconds before. “We fly out tomorrow.”
He felt her muscles tighten. A small gasp that he would not have heard if her lips had not been so close to his ear. He squeezed her tighter, “I know.”
She let out the breath she had been holding and stepped back from him, her hands still lingering on his shoulders, “we knew this would happen.”
Lipton nodded, “yes.”
There were few words that seemed to fit the tone that had shifted in the room. It was not likely that he would find the appropriate one anytime soon. As if Hazel knew it, too, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his in a soft, tender kiss.
There was a small beat between a downpour that turned the roads to muck and the threat of further threats of rain on the horizon. It was at that time that Lipton had suggested that he walked Hazel back home from the pub. Without allowing a second to pass, she agreed with a nod. If there was a spare moment where Lipton could find time to spend with Hazel alone, he would trip over himself to take it. Unsure if she had realized this or even more, considered the same, he did not know.
It wasn’t until she pulled him forward by the hand as the downpour started that he thought there may be a reason why she was agreeable to let him walk her home. She did not let go of it until they were at her doorstep.
She demanded that he come in, arguing that there is no way she was going to send a soldier back to his quarters in the midst of a heavy rain when she was drying off in a perfectly warm home. It was not until after he agreed to stay and even more, to a cup of tea, that she was appeased.
It was after that tea was gone, refilled, and gone again, that he realized it had not been raining for quite some time. It was her company that was keeping him comfortably seated on her couch, facing her as she spoke enthusiastically, pouring forth with a story about her first time attempting to fish after her father passed away. As he pictured her in a row boat, frustratedly attempting to reel in a stubborn fish, he found himself envious of the next man to catch a fish for her.
There was a shift in the air between them as he later slipped on his now-dry jacket. The sun had set. The rain had long passed. Their fingers had brushed when she handed the jacket over, he swallowed hard in response. The way she looked at him made him consider what he might have said to cause her furrowed brow. When she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, he felt the lump in his throat drop to his stomach.
When she stood back, the sweetness of her perfume lingering between them, he smiled softly. She smiled softly in return, her eyes locked quite intently on his own. The warmth of the brown within felt like the sun had suddenly risen again, swallowing the night’s chill and heating him from the inside out. But when those doe eyes flickered to the smirk on his face, he remembered what it felt like to desire a person with your entire being.
He was hopeful that the bravery he showed when he leaned forward to kiss her gently was the same that he would show on the battlefield. Even a fraction of it would get him through this war decorated. Within him, he felt the embers she had created ignite to full flickering flame when he felt the way her lips so perfectly in synchronicity with his.
Lipton wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, who let it catch light with urgency and desperation, but it was in that heated need that he crossed the room with her toward her bedroom. As they went, hands began to tear at garments. Carelessly, fabric fell to the floor in abandon. He had never in his life had he felt the depth of this type of desire. It was more than need.
She was breathless when he tore his mouth from hers. Her lipstick smeared across her cheek, he planted kisses across her cheek, her forehead, temple, her eyelids, her nose. Lipton reached down to grip the backs of her thighs, surprising Hazel as he lifted her from the floor. The grip of his hands settled on her rear, fingertips pressed deeply into her flesh. She kissed his forehead, cheeks, chin, jaw from above as he crossed the room with her in his arms.
When he got her to the bed, he set her down gently, hurrying to tug her dress over her hips and past her feet. He threw it behind him, greeting the majority of his clothing on the floor. It was when he started to take down his boxers that she helped by removing her own bra and underwear. No matter how many times he had seen her naked, he would never be left in anything less than awe. No matter how intimately he learned every inch of her body, he would feel nothing less than unyielding gratitude.
Hazel pulled him close to her, their bodies flush against one another. Every part of her form fit so perfectly into his, as if the brightest mind had drawn up the blueprints. The way skin met skin, limbs tangled with limb, there was no way to decide where she began and he ended. Their lips worked in perfect time, breaths short and dire as they grew less and less frequent.
“Car,” she gasped, the first time he touched her. The nickname was not one she had used before, and since then, he only ever heard it when he drew it from her throat with delicate, intentional movements.
The first time they made love, there was something boiling in the pit of Lipton’s stomach that he had never experienced before. Not that he had not felt desire, lust, hell, even love before. But what began to take over his brain and body felt like an intoxication so deep, it may never detox from his marrow.
He held her head in his hand, pinned between her and the pillows behind her as he calculated the response every thrust was able to call forward. He watched as her eyes screwed shut and her lips parted. He watched as a wrinkle appeared between her brows. He watched as a gorgeous blush spanned the width of her chest, clawing its way up her throat. He kissed her there, her name on his lips while he deepened each motion, feeling himself reach the length of her depths.
“Car,” she gasped, each of her well manicured fingers raked at his back, her ankles locked at the lowest point on his back. He couldn’t help but smile as it poured past her lips like the sweetest wine. A wine he’d find himself scavenging every corner of the earth to sip once more.
He granted some space between them when she began to inch her hand down delicately over his chest, teasing his skin with the sweetest of gestures. Every inch those fingers drew, he found himself throbbing more intensely. It was not until he felt her hand wrap securely around him that he let out a sigh of relief. Hazel’s bottom lip was trapped between her teeth as she held his gaze. When she started to gently stroke, he lost sight of her when his eyes fluttered closed.
The deep giggle that vibrated where their chests connected made his blood pump harder. It was one he learned came with a moment where she felt herself in control, especially of the pleasure he experienced; it was a sound he found echoing in his mind as he tossed and turned in bed on lonely nights. One that often encouraged a stampede of memories of ecstasy that he knew would not dim over the course of time.
Lipton’s thumb traced the curve of her jaw, memorizing the angle it took before meeting her ear. He tangled his hand in her hair as if it were a forest he longed to be lost in. She tilted her head up and met his lips in a hungry kiss, coaxing a groan from deep within his chest while she increased the movement of her hand.
He traced down over her collar bone, his thumb stopping to circle her nipple. He often considered the responsiveness of every part of her body to each of his careful ministrations. He also often considered the natural color of her lips and its perfect match to the color of her nipples. Especially when he noticed the way they glistened as she licked them. Which she did often in response to his touch.
The light of the midday sun shone into the bedroom where Lipton found himself tangled in sheets. It was the way she had allowed them to be draped over her, as if she were in the safest place in the world, so vulnerable to his eyes, barely covered. He found it the most erotic moment of his life, watching her talk and laugh, so very exposed to him. It was a privilege he would not take lightly.
“Lip?” She teased, reaching out and nudging his jaw with the knuckle of her index finger. He blinked, focused his gaze on her smiling face. He raised a brow in question. “You know,” she pulled the sheet over her breasts. He felt like a child after losing a balloon in the wind. “If I were a more anxious woman, I’d worry you weren’t listening to me.” Though her words chastised him, her tone was tender, soft, as if she knew that he would never for a moment take the sight of her naked body for granted.
“Never,” he smirked. She leaned forward with a giggle, pressing her bare chest to his, her lips soon after.
When his hand rested on hers, her pace slowed to a stop. He took up her hand gently, holding it against his chest briefly before bringing it to his mouth. He placed a kiss to her fingertips, her palm, and her wrist before guiding it over his shoulder. She found herself running her fingers through the hair at the back of his head.
As he aligned himself with her, he felt as she spread her legs further, accommodating his hips as they settled between her thighs. A gentle stroke down to her entrance and up again caused her breath to catch audibly in her throat. He smiled as he watched her eyelids grow heavy with lust. Hazel tilted her hips up in a movement that Lipton had told himself was the most sensual thing he had known any woman to do. The whimper that escaped her lips encouraged a twitch in his length he held tight in his hand.
“Please,” she whispered.
Without hesitation, he met her upward thrust with a downward stroke, a motion that called forward a moan from each of them. He buried his face in her neck as he began to find a slow, building pace. They began to move like the tide, each wave crashing with moans and groans of approval. He felt the way she held him with intensity, both inside and out, with each motion.
“Oh God,” she arched her back to meet him with urgency. “I love you.” When her eyes fluttered open to meet his, he saw the way tears welled in her eyes.
He kissed her temple, the apple of her cheeks, and pulled her closer to him. He quickened the pace as he found an angle to provide him with access to new depths. Both of which she responded to with a cry that gave him goosebumps. He found himself breathlessly, ecstatically, devastatingly, responding in kind, “I love you.”
#carwood lipton#lipton#ao3#archive of our own#fanfic#one shot#oneshot#fan fiction#fanfiction#BoB fanfic#BoB smut#BoB imagine#BoB oneshot#BoB fic#Band of brothers#Band of brothers one shot#band of brothers fic#band of brothers fan fiction#hbo war#smut#band of brothers smut#carwood lipton smut#carwood lipton one shot#carwood lipton fan fiction
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Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.
Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry
Length: 11k words (what have I done?)
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader
This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
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."
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You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.
"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he?
"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important.
The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."
His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?"
Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.
You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine.
"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.
"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you.
You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."
When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel."
Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.
You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"
At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.
"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.
----------------------------
It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question.
"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."
You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"
He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."
Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good.
As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection.
Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"
He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."
"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.
He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him.
You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."
It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."
"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."
Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.
He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."
Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."
He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"
You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"
"Yes."
It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement.
Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."
And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name.
He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.
Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.
His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"
You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."
---------------------------
Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you.
Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous.
"Is it okay if I taste you?"
All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure.
Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit.
When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.
Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."
A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!"
All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face.
"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."
"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before.
You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me."
His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess."
The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded.
"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"
His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder.
His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more.
You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.
"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."
"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."
He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."
He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend."
You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.
Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."
He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."
-------------------------
Six months later...
After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.
As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher.
"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.
"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."
Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him.
"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."
"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."
"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."
"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too."
You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house.
This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"
"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.
"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"
Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her.
You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."
---------------------------
Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!
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