#robert bob floyd smut
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Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd
Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons
A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!
“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”
Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”
“So you admit I’m funny!”
The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.
The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.
“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.
As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.
That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?
As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head.
Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action.
Just when you think you’ve seen it all.
The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.
"Is that Bob from Stats?"
It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester.
“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"
You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?
He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.
“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.
He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”
The wink makes your mouth dry.
Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed.
“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”
With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg.
You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.
“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse.
He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”
You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily.
“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.
A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.
Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.
By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.
“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.
Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”
“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester.
She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!”
As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”
Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.
“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.
Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch.
“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.
But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.
Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?
It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house.
“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.
At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.
Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare?
Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.
Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face.
“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”
Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats.
Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.
He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”
“And the hobby horse?”
He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”
There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest.
The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”
In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe.
His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?”
It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.
An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.
His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.
Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.
The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.
Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.
The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them.
“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself.
His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.
You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”
His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.
The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.
Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”
Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.
His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.
“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”
You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”
He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”
Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”
“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher.
You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.
Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”
Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.
“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”
His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.
You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!
“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder.
Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.”
The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.
“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you.
In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.
That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent.
An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.
Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good.
Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.
Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”
Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”
He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind.
His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.
“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.
One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right.
“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands.
He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses.
“O-oh!”
It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out.
The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light.
Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.
It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.
With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.
You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.
“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.
You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”
The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.
Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.
Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”
“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”
From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”
You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.
“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.
You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”
“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.
Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.
“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”
Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.
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High On Lovin' You - Bob Floyd x Reader
a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic inspired by a dream I had the other day, not beta read and may have some errors? I tried y'all. also inspired by h.o.l.y. by florida georgia line
pairing: bob floyd x wife! reader
warnings/content: bob as a dad, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, smut, fingering.
word count: 2.1k
The Californian breeze was warm and refreshing as it blew in off the coast of Coronado, brushing against your skin. You followed Bob up the brick-laden steps of Rooster’s seaside home, your daughter, Sunday, balancing on Bob’s hip as he jogged up the steps. You couldn’t help but admire the way he managed to make something as mundane as running up a couple of steps holding a baby effortlessly attractive.
His sandy coloured hair had been brushed back slightly, a change from his normal, military-approved style, and his wire framed glasses had been replaced with a pair of prescription aviator sunglasses. His baby blue polo shirt hugged his figure, accentuating his toned chest, his biceps flexing against the sleeve of the shirt as he held Sunday. He’d dressed her this morning, in a baby blue gingham dress that matched the hue of his shirt perfectly, with her curly blonde hair pulled back off her forehead with a coordinating headband, adorned with a bow.
“You ready to go see Uncle Roo, Sunny?” Bob cooed at your daughter, stroking her cheek gently with his index finger as he spoke to her.
Sunday giggled and cooed at her father as the three of you walked around to the side gate of the house. Bob reached around over the gate door to unlatch it, and as you watched him, you couldn’t help but notice that his normally slender build was appearing more and more muscular and toned. You knew that Bob had been spending a lot more time with Rooster lately, and by extension, Hangman, who’d convinced all the guys to start hitting the gym with him before trainings under the guise of “team-building” but you were convinced it was because he didn’t want to work out alone anymore. The gym sessions combined with carrying an almost toddler around were enough to have an impact on Bob’s upper body strength.
Bob looked over to you for a moment, flashing you a smile before walking up to Rooster with a firm handshake and a hug. Bob set Sunday down on the grass to play, watching as she started playing. He’d insisted on giving you a break for the day, feeling guilty for spending the last week and a half working overtime and putting in longer hours as they trained for an upcoming mission. You knew there was no use in arguing with him about it, and the extra time spent with Sunday meant the world to him. Besides that, something about seeing Bob take on the role of doting dad was driving you crazy with arousal, and you were going to make sure you did something about it later tonight.
“Sunday, come here, honey!” Bob called as he chased after your now very active and mobile 11 month old daughter.
Later that night, you watched as your husband whispered goodnight to your baby daughter over the monitor on your phone, your heart fluttering at the sight of him leaning his tall, slender frame down to kiss his little girl on the forehead, murmuring sweet sayings to her that were barely audible over the noise of the sound machine that was playing.
“Ok, I think Sunday’s finally gone down for the night. They aren’t kidding when they say that sleep regressions are the worst, are they?” Bob chuckled as he bounded down the stairs, shaking his head as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tightly towards his body.
“Have I told you yet that you’re the best husband in the world?”
“You might have mentioned it earlier when she spat up on my shirt right before Rooster’s party for his promotion, but I’d be ok with hearing it again.”
A cocksure grin appeared on Bob’s face as he nuzzled into your neck, placing soft, gentle kisses against the curvature of your body. A soft, surprised moan fell from your lips as his mouth made contact with your skin, but that was all the encouragement Bob needed to start kissing a trail from the top of your shoulder up to your ear. His movements were playful and light-hearted, but he knew that was what drove you wild. His hands caressed at your waist, sliding down to your hips as he pulled you in closer to him with a gentle yank, the curves of your ass now pressed firmly against his body. You could feel the fabric of his dress pants beginning to tighten against you as he began hiking up the skirt of your dress, giving your ass a firm squeeze.
“Bobby!” You giggled, shaking your head as you felt your heart race as if this was your first time being intimate with him.
That was the thing you loved about Bob, he made every time feel as great as the first - the passion, love and excitement of when you’d spent your first night together, recaptured as if it was happening all over again. Bob had always been a passionate lover - your first night together he’d sheepishly confessed to you that he’d only ever had one girlfriend before, and he dated her throughout his high school years until he graduated and left for the Naval academy at 18. He’d been worried that his lack of variety in the field had made him inadequate, and he assured you that, if there was anything he was doing that you wanted him to do differently, he’d learn it for you. It’d been nothing short of perfect - you teased him that he must have been reading Cosmopolitan or something to know all the right places to touch you and kiss you, to which he just shrugged, pushing his glasses up on his nose with a grin.
Since that day, it was clear to you that Bob was a people pleaser, and there was no one on earth who he wanted to please more than you.
“You looked so hot in that dress today, babe. You’re stunning, you know that?” He purred into your ear as he continued to run his hands along your body, his breath hot on your neck as he spoke in that low, seductive tone he knew drove you crazy.
“Robert Floyd, you’re pushing it,” you teased, shaking your head.
“Now, now, darlin’, that’s Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd. If you’re gonna use my full name, better be using that rank too, got it, pretty girl?”
You gave Bob a mock salute, a shit-eating grin on your face as you looked at him. Bob pulled you in closer, holding your hips firmly against him, your dress hiked up to your midsection as he gave your sides a gentle squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh ever-so-slightly as he held you. Grinding your hips against his, you grinned wickedly as Bob let out a groan. He spun you around quickly to face him, his blonde eyebrows raised quizzically at you. His bright, deep blue eyes were locked on yours and you felt like you might melt right there on the spot.
“Now, a pretty girl like you, she deserves to be treated right by her husband, doesn’t she?” Bob hummed, his fingers toying with your inner thigh.
“Mhmm, is that so?”
“That’s what I reckon,” Bob smirked, his accent shifting, becoming thicker as he slipped into his natural Kentucky drawl, his fingers brushing against your wet slit.
“Bobby!” You hissed, unable to stop the soft gasp that came out of your mouth with it.
“I think, since you do such a good job taking care of Sunday and I, I should return the favor, don’t you?”
Before you could open your mouth to speak, Bob pushed two of his long fingers past your folds, pumping them into your core at a tantalizing slow pace that left you practically aching for more. He smirked as his fingers worked at your core, feeling your body clench at the movement of his hand.
“Fuck, Bobby,” you mewled, feeling yourself tensing up at his touch, “Feels s’good.”
Bob pulled his fingers out of you, your body aching at the loss of contact. He stood upright, quickly undoing his belt at a break-neck pace. He smirked as he noticed you biting your bottom lip, watching him as he shimmied quickly out of his khaki coloured dress pants and boxer shorts. Reaching into the pocket of the now discarded pants on the floor, he pulled out a shiny foil square of packaging. As he started to open it, you shook your head, whispering in his ear, your voice in a breathy whine as you spoke.
“We don’t need to use that if you don’t want to, baby. I wanna feel you.”
“That so, baby? Thought you wanted at least two years between kids?” He laughed softly, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you.
“I know what I said. That was before I saw you handling Sunday so well at Rooster’s this afternoon. Now I’m thinking 20 months is good enough,” you replied with a shrug, your lips curling into a smirk as you tried to convince your normally level-headed and rational thinking husband to forgo any form of contraception.
Bob furrowed his brow in thought for a moment before tossing the condom wrapper behind him with a grin.
“What the hell, I’m on board,” He shrugged as he lifted you up, causing you to squeal in surprise as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
Bob carried you effortlessly over to the couch before dropping you gently down on to the leather sectional. He grinned as he hovered down over you, lining himself up with your entrance. He dragged the tip of his cock against you in a teasing manner, causing you to shudder and whine as you felt him make contact with your clit. He gave you a wicked grin as he watched you squirm before gently pushing himself forward. He paused for a moment for you to adjust to his size - something you should be used to by now, but yet, each time your body needed that extra moment or two to stretch around him.
“That’s it, pretty girl, taking my cock so well,” Bob cooed as he pushed himself further into you, maintaining the slow pace he’d begun with.
“Bobby,” you whined as he filled you, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly.
Bob began thrusting into you at a leisurely, slow pace, his voice low and husky as he grunted in your ear, reminding you of how good you feel, how you were all his, and how your body felt like it was practically made for him. You squirmed and shuddered with each thrust becoming harder and sharper, perfectly calculated to hit exactly where you wanted each time, something that was to be expected of a man who’s job entailed precision and skill when it comes to angles.
“You feel so fucking fantastic, honey. Can’t wait to put another baby in ya. That’s what you want, isn’t it baby? Want me to give you another baby?”
Bob’s hips crashed into yours repeatedly as he thrusted, his sharp, quick movements beginning to grow sloppier as he edged closer to his orgasm. You tossed your head back in ecstasy as he bucked his hips into you, the combination of his words and his movements just about pushing you to your orgasm.
“C’mon honey, tell me what you want from me,” Bob husked.
“Need you to put a baby in me, please, Bobby,” you cried out, unable to hold back any longer as his latest thrust pushed you to your boiling point.
As if your words flipped a switch inside of him, Bob’s hips bucked forward once more as he grunted, spilling out inside of you as your body clenched around him tightly.
Breathless and panting as you both rode out your orgasms, Bob couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at you, shaking his head.
“So what was it about my parenting that got you worked up?” He smirked, unable to shake the grin off his face as he leaned down to kiss your collarbone.
“Honestly?”
“Honestly, I know something got you worked up today, and I doubt it was the backyard barbecue at Rooster’s.”
“Your biceps have gotten huge from carrying Sunday around everywhere, and with the polo shirt and the aviators today, and you were all proud of yourself for coordinating your outfit with Sunday’s, it was a combination of things, but,” you breathed, shaking your head as you grinned, “imagine how you’ll look balancing two toddlers on your hip.”
#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x wife reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x wife reader#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#robert floyd#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x reader
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes.
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting.
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode.
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth.
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you.
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.” He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
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#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#robert bob floyd fic#bob x you#bob x reader
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Vice //
Summary: Bobs one vice in life just so happened to be the very embodiment of what banished Adam from paradise. The human equivalent of that stupid fucking apple that he and Eve ate. You were Bob's forbidden apple: His only vice in life. His guilty pleasure and undoing. You were Jake Seresins little sister.
Warnings: Bob Floyd x F!Seresin!reader. Age gap. Reader is 24. Bob is 35. Smut! 18+ only. Unprotected sex. Oral both male & female receiving. Porn with a slight plot. Star crossed lovers.
Word Count: 5.4k
Author Note: Lewis fucked us all up with this stellar outfit. Now it’s Bobs turn to fuck us.
“You enjoying the party?” Robert Floyd, for the most part, was an enigma of a man. He didn't drink, he didn't smoke, he didn’t gamble or participate in extreme sports. He didn't seem to have any sort of vice or undoing that threatened to short circuit his usually settled persona. His ability to just exist without an urge to go a little off the rails drove Jake Seresin up the wall. “Or at least trying to?” Jake asked as he nudged at Bob's shoulder.
The usually egomaniacal aviator had invited all the Daggers to his family's summer vacation home for a weekend off. And let’s face it—If there was one thing the Seresins knew how to do it was throw a fucking party. And oh boy, did Bob Floyd have a reason to accept that invitation–because unbeknownst to his entire team, the people who knew him better than most, he did in fact have an undoing, he did have a vice.
That vice just so happened to be the very embodiment of what banished Adam from paradise. The human equivalent of that stupid fucking apple that he and Eve ate. You were Bob's forbidden apple: His only vice in life. His guilty pleasure and undoing.
You were Jake Seresins little sister.
“I'm officially Nats personal beverage holder.” Bob replied as he stood with Jake overlooking the deck littered with people dressed in ridiculous neon he didn't know, didn't care to get to know and people he knew of that really didn't seem to know he was there. Except Jake's immediate family, and the Daggers. “But yeah–it's been a good day.” Lies, complete lies. Bob just wanted to go home. He wanted to change out of the ridiculous outfit Phoenix had helped him toss together and just be. His only reasoning behind accepting the invite out to good ol Texas was you.
And much to Roberts Floyds dismay, he hadn’t seen you all day. You weren't present at the Seresin family get together. That was a crime in and of itself, but Bob couldn't blame you for skipping out. Hell he kinda wished he had to.
“Why don't you let your hair down a little?” Jake smirked as he took the beer in Bob's hand and took a swig. It was now his, Phoenix could get another one. “Crack open a beer, kick your feet up?” Jake continued as the sun had begun to set over the waters edge. “You’re off duty, and I won't snitch.”
“I'm good.” Bob smiled softly, this just wasn't his thing. It was clearly Rooster's thing though, he hadn’t stopped all day. He’d been running a complete muck with Coyote for what felt like forever. Bob was pretty impressed the guy was still standing. “I haven't seen your sister around?” Bob tried to play it off as casually as he could, but there was a split second in the silence that followed where Bob thought that his casual curiosity could have been taken as more than just that. “Just noticed she wasn't here, the rest of the Seresin gene pool is.” It was the easiest excuse Bob could have given to throw Hangman off his scent. Jake raised a single brow for a few seconds as he looked at his fellow aviator–trying to decipher if there was more to that statement than met the eye. But as he took another sip of the beer he’d stolen, pondering, he decided Robert Floyd wasn't exactly your type.
“Nah, she's still in Alberta the last time I spoke to her.” Although there was a caution in Jake's tone, he gave Bob the reason behind your absence. “Living the life of the young and the free.” He chuckled to himself softly as he shook his head. You had always been what your family considered a ‘Flight Risk’. Jake understood it, your parents not so much. You were the black sheep, the one out of the three Seresin siblings that didn't have a career plan by the age of fifteen and a scholarship to college by graduation. “Miss her though.” It was then Jake looked at Bob with squinted eyes before he placed the now empty beer bottle back into his hand. “Don't ever tell her I said that.”
Hang on–Was that supposed to be a test? Bob didn't know what to say, so he cleared his throat and shook his head as he pressed his lips together in a fine line. The safest thing to say right now was nothing at all. Play meek. It worked out well enough for him so far.
“Try to at least look like you’re enjoying yourself man.” Jake teased as lovingly as he could before he turned to head on down towards the lake. It really was a beautiful time of year, Bob would at least admit that.
While everyone around him seemed to be overindulging in extracurricular activities that made Bob feel more like a recluse than ever before, he wandered into the lakehouse that could technically be considered a mansion. The place was massive. Made of old pine and oak. He made his way upstairs to the bathroom closest to the room he was sharing with Fanboy and Rooster. He thought he’d hide out for a while, have a shower, decompress, and hopefully find it somewhere inside himself to enjoy the rest of the festivities to come later in the evening.
But as Bob turned the handle on the old wooden door that led into one of the many bathrooms in this mansion-esk lake house the Seresins owned, he was stunned to see you stepping out of the shower in a towel that just barely covered your ass.
“Hey! Do you mind!?” You hissed at the sound of the door opening behind you. Bob's jaw nearly hit the ground with a thud at the sight before him. You were the last person to expect to see here. Especially not even fifteen minutes after Jake had just told him you were still in Alberta. In a whole other country, a million miles away from where he wanted you to be.
Here.
But somehow you were. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a cruel summer after all?
As you turned around to see who had inadvertently forgotten the universal code to knock before entering a closed bathroom to scold whoever it was that intruded on your privacy, your hardened expression of annoyance softened almost immediately as the person standing in the doorway. Not yet in the bathroom, Bob stood still in the hallway silently and in shock. How were you even here right now? Naked in the bathroom after what seemed like a shower? With sopping wet hair and glazed skin.
“Jesus Christ Bob don't you knock!” You hissed as you reached over to pull Bob into the bathroom by the neon muscle-T he wore. Before you shut the door and made sure to lock it, you looked both ways down the hall. Nope, not a single soul was in sight. Good. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Bob's eyes lit up at the sight of you before him. His eyes were clear as baby blue crystals on a good day–but whenever he was looking at you? Robert Floyds eyes let you know where home was.
“What are you doing here?” Bob asked as he watched you walk over to the vanity to continue drying your hair. Holding it to one side as you looked at him in the mirror looking at you. He stood behind you with hands gently holding your hips, thumbing at the fuzzy fabric of the towel that clad your curves. “Your brother just told me you were still in Alberta. I've spent the most of my day looking around for you only to find out you weren't even coming.” A one sided smirk appeared across your face as you watched Bob duck his head to kiss the exposed skin of your neck. He paused against you to take in the aroma of your body wash, Raspberries and Juniper. “But yet here you stand? What gives, kid?”
You and Bob had a complicated thing going. The first time you met the big eyed, bigger hearted Weapons System Officer was at a ceremony acknowledging the efforts and near sacrifices the Daggers had made during the uranium mission that saw your older brother permanently stationed in North Island.
Bob was the cute guy who never took his eyes off you the entire night, he swore he could watch you for hours on end without ever getting tired of the view. You reminded him of someone though, your mannerisms, your laugh, the way you show boated when you won that game of darts against Rooster. That's when the penny dropped.
You were Hangman's little sister. Forbidden and untouchable.
“I heard that a certain detachment team was on the annual invite list and changed my mind last minute.” You explained softly as you held Bob's arms in your own around your waist. His chin fell to your shoulder as he held you tight to his chest. Looking at you looking at him through the mirror in front of you. “I missed you.”
“Is there a reason why you’re out here in the cold instead of inside where the party is, Lieutenant?” Bob heard a voice coming from behind him as he looked out over the back deck of the Hard Deck. he just needed some fresh air to wrap his mind around the fact he thought a Seresin was stunning.
“You must be the famous sister we’ve all heard so much about?” Bob replied as he watched you come to stand beside him, fishing out one of those stupid vape things Fanboy had told him about from your back pocket. “Hangman talks highly of you.” Bob's eyes lingered on the way you held it to your lips, he watched as you inhaled, held, pulled the contraption away from your glossed lips and gestured it out for him to take as you blew the excess away.
“Reluctantly, that's me.” You admitted. “You’re Lieutenant Floyd.” Bob's heart skipped a beat when you said his name. He wanted to ask you how you knew but his expression must have given it away because through a soft chuckle of your own you answered the question on the tip of his tongue before he even had to ask. “It's pinned to your jacket.” Right.
“Those things will kill you ya know.” Bob smiled softly as he watched you take another hit as you looked out over the railing, leaning against it with your elbows. “Aren't you worried?”
“As opposed to flying F-18’s into enemy territory on highly classified missions?” You shot back through a teasing smile before you pocketed the thing you knew you should probably give up before it became an addiction. “We all die soon enough Lieutenant Floyd, living in the moment is more my speed.”
“Bob.” Bob replied with a soft smile. “You sound like your brother, but please, call me Bob.” There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you before you looked the aviator up and down with a knowing eye. Before Bob knew what he was doing, he was following you down the steps towards his car, he was the designated driver for the evening for Phoenix, Rooster and Payback. But after you leaned in to whisper in his ear the hottest thing he'd ever heard– Bob venmoed them all enough to cover a taxi.
“Well Bob, Bob Floyd, do you wanna get out of here?”
“Yes Ma’am.” Bob knew it was wrong, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to your request. He did want to get out of there, with you. Yes. He’d never wanted to get out of somewhere more in his life. You were gorgeous.
You snuck in through Bobs garden gate every night that summer just to seal your fate.
“I missed you too.” Bob held your gaze in the mirror as his hand began to wonder. You didn't stop him from exploring, but your graze broke from his as you watched his slightly callioused and large hand roam down the expanse of your towel clad pelvis. Slowly, seductively, all the while he broke from looking at you to kiss the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “You stopped texting me?” It was a question disguised as a statement, but you knew Bob wanted an explanation to your sudden lack of contact. It had been just shy of two entire months. “You miss me but you stopped texting me? That's a little contradictory, don't you think kiddo?”
“I was trying to get over you.” Whimpers, that’s what your words came out like as your head fell back against Bob's exposed shoulder. His hand kept exploring—lower and lower until finally he was peeling up the fuzzy fabric of your towel. Creeping between your legs right where you wanted him. “You’re my brother’s—“ Before you could explain that you felt sick of yourself for crossing the line with Bob, his fingers were delicately and deliberately slipping past your slick folds as your knees nearly gave in. You had to reach up and out around Bob's necks to steady yourself. Your breath caught in your throat as Bob's nimble fingers worked to slowly yet oh so perfectly tantalise your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“I’m not your brother's anything.” Bob growled in your ear. You brought out a primal instinct in the Weapons System Office not a single soul but yourself had ever seen. “You ghosted me.”
“You’re thirty five.” It wasn’t enough of an excuse not to fuck you. Again that was. Over and over and over again.
“And you feel twenty something.” Bob smirked against your shoulder. The same shoulder he worked to mark up. “How old are you again?”
“Twenty four—“ It came out barely above a whisper as you spread your legs a little wider as Bob spread your pussy apart. Circling the very spot he knew was your undoing. Its only purpose in life was to bring pleasure, that sensitive bundle of nerve endings. “Bob—“ You breathed as he snaked his supporting arm up from around your waist to untuck the white towel that had been hiding your perfect silhouette from him. It had been far too long for Bob's liking. “We shouldn’t—“ But Devils roll the dice and angels roll their eyes. What didn’t kill you made you want him more. “We really shouldn’t.”
That fact was a no brainer. Bob knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be here in the bathroom of one of the most extravagant lake houses he’d ever seen. He shouldn’t be hiding away with you, Hangman's little sister, with the pads of two of his fingers dancing over your clit as you wither away in his warm embrace. He shouldn’t be obsessed with the way you sound trying to contain the whimpers that threaten to escape you as your arousal coats his digits.
Bob shouldn’t have slept with you the first night he met you. He shouldn’t have slept with you in the days and weeks that followed. He shouldn’t have felt the way you came around his length like you’d never felt an orgasm before. He shouldn’t have laughed when you told him you were starting to catch feelings—and Bob definitely shouldn’t have told you that he may or may not have been falling in love with you. Because that’s the last time he heard from you before you ghosted him.
Bob knew he shouldn’t. But he was going to over and over and over again because he only had one vice. One undoing.
You.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” Bob groaned as he stopped his taunting ways and spun you around to face him. The sudden loss of satisfaction made you pout, but when Bob shifted you up onto the vanity as he stood firmly between you legs, that pout vanished rather quickly. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away. I’ll go back downstairs to that shitty party.” For a moment Bob reverted back into his normally reserved self. He ducked his head so your gaze couldn’t match his own. “I only came here with the hope in mind you’d be here.”
It made your heart skip a beat inside your chest. You really liked Bob. He was kind and compassionate and he listened to you when you spoke, he didn’t just stand there and nod. Pretending. He valued your smile and your laugh and unlike your brother who gave him chronic headaches on his best days—Bob seemed to like the time he spent with you. He couldn’t get enough of you.
“I want you.” Was all you said before you were fisting your palms into the fabric of Bob's muscle-T. Since when had he gotten so big? Bob wasn’t this big when you last saw him. His arms were the size of tree trucks now. You would have remembered that. “I’ve never not wanted you.” It felt so wrong but oh so right to admit as you pulled Bob's shirt up and over his head before you tossed it away. Forgetting its existence. “I'm sorry I ghosted you, it’s just you’re my brothers—“ Before you could finish your sentence Bob's lips were on yours in a feaverish kiss that took your breath away. His hands cupped at your cheeks to keep you close before he wrapped his digits into the mess of wet hair behind your head.
“We all die soon enough, living in the moment is more my speed.” Bob interrupted as your eyes glazed over his, searching for any ounce of regret he might have. “Where’d that version of you go? The one who didn't care?”
“She died when I started falling in love with you.” It was enough to send Bob over the edge as he drank in the sight of you. All his for the taking as he caressed your cheek with one hand. “That's why I left, you told me you loved me and I knew I loved you back and that's crazy, this, is crazy Robert.” Trying to deny inevitable feelings was never a good idea. All it did was cause chaos and suffering for both parties involved. “You can't love me, and I can't love you, it'll never work and my brother will kill you. He’ll delete you off the face of the earth!” You tried to smile through the tears that threatened to spill very momentarily. “And I don't know about you, Bob, but I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Bob cooed as he ran the pad of his thumb across your lower lips. “Right now though? I just wanna be with you.” With gentle hands you worked at the belt buckle that was cinched around Bob's waist. Looped around the jean shorts he wore that made his outfit all the more atrocious. “I've missed you, missed everything about you.”
“Well Lieutenant–” You teased as you discarded Bob's belt to the side, it landed on top of the muscle-T he’d once been wearing as you slowly worked to unzip his fly. “Now seems like as good a time as any to get acquainted.” Bob's lips were once again on yours in a needy lust filled kiss the second he could break his gaze from your beautiful eyes. His hands were all over you, exploring your curves and dips as you sunk your hand into his boxer briefs. Palming him off as his soft moans echoed against the back of your throat.
“Oh god–” Bob choked out as you worked your fist up and down his erection, standing to full attention and straining against the confines of his shorts. “Baby, baby I'm dying here.” It was all mumbled into your mouth as Bob continued his assault on your mouth, his tongue danced with yours expertly like it hadnt been two entire months since he’d last seen or felt you. “Let me get these pants off.”
With a giddy grin that expanded ear to ear you pulled back so that you could watch Bob shimmy out of his jorts. He was a sight that made your mouth water. Since when did he get so fucking big?
“You've been working out?” You asked to fill the silence that filled the bathroom. Bob hopped around on one foot for a second as he tried to rid himself of the remaining articles of clothing that still adorned his body.
“Yeah well it was either that or through myself a pity party because the woman I admitted my love to up and vanished into thin air.” Bob huffed as he stood up straight, completely naked and exposed in front of you. “So yeah, I worked out, alot.”
“How's your cardiac output?” You teased as you watched him step closer to where he’d left you on the vanity, pumping his hardened length a few times as he did so. “Because I’m in real need of a good fuck.” Bob's cheeks flushed a crimson hume at the way you spoke to him. He loved it, no one ever spoke to him the way you did. So open and free. “Make me feel good Lieutenant.” You pleaded through a needy whine as you felt Bob pull you forward by your hips. Lining you up with the tip of his shaft. Teasing your entrance as he slid his tip between your folds, collecting your arousal with every move. The sexual tension was enough foreplay for the both of you. “Bob, please.”
With one motion, Bob was pressing himself inside you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Drawing him in as close as you could pull him as every inch of him slowly disappeared inside you. It felt heavenly, you felt full, complete.
“Ohh fuck–” You gasped when Bob bottom out and pressed his forehead to yours. “God did your dick get bigger too?” Bob chuckled at your remark as he remained still inside you, giving you a second to breathe and stretch to his girth. He had always loved the sight of your pretty and perfect pussy full of his cock.
“Not that I've noticed.” Bob smiled as he kissed you before slowly pulling out a few inches only to push himself back in. working up a slick rhythm that made the pair of you lose all sense of any consequence that may come of your impromptu rendezvous. “You’re perfect, so perfect for me aren't you baby?” It felt like heaven and hell all at once.
“Missed your cock.” You whined as Bob picked up the pace enough that it had your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling. “Oh god feels so fucking good.” You could feel the grip Bob had on your hips as he fucked into you–manouvering your body just enough that when his balls slapped against the curve of your ass his tip kissed your cervix. “Ahh–”
“Shh–” Bob pressed the palm of his hand across your mouth to silence your screams. “Do you want someone to find us?” He asked as he picked up the pace. Fucking you hard. “Do you want your brother finding out who fucks you this good? That you like older men? Is that what you want, baby? For him to catch us in the act so you don't have to tell him?” Your lungs felt like they had been ignited from the lack of oxygen as Bob kept his hand across your mouth and pressed up against your nose. It felt otherworldly, being manhandled like this, dominated.
Bob didn't dominate at anything in life. But he sure did dominate in the bedroom.
“Let me get a taste of you gorgeous.” Bob groaned as he pulled out of your fucked out cunt, watching as your arousal dripped out and down to your ass. He dropped down to lick a nice line up your pussy—collecting anything you’d give him as he settled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Shaking his head all the while his glasses fogged.
“Ahhh! Fuck! Bob!” Your legs shook as your hand flew down to grip at Bob's hair, slightly damp from swimming, slightly dry from the heat of the sun he’d once been in. Now? He was between your legs, enjoying his favourite meal.
Bob lapped away at your dripping core for what felt like an eternity. You weren’t going to complain about it either as you pulled at his hazel locks and let your legs drape over his strong shoulders. You wanted so badly to say it out loud. Your heart was near bursting out of your chest with need to scream it to the heavens as Bons eyes met yours from between your legs. So you said it.
"I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?” Bob looked up grinning like a devil.
“So sweet, you’re like candy.” Bob's chin was coated as he came up for air, you were so close. “Let’s see how pretty you look when you cum all over my fingers.”
“Please, please—“ You were so desperate to feel that familiar release. “Bob, I wanna cum for you.” With lustful baby blue eyes that seemed three shades darker he slipped two fingers inside you. Coaxing you forward in a come here motion. Knowing exactly what to do and when to do it to send you hurtling towards you first, but certainly not your last orgasm. “Ahhh fuck! Yes—yess!”
“Oh I can feel you clenching around my fingers baby, why don’t you show me how pretty you look when you cry?” Bob knew you were standing on the edge with the way you were clinging to him. “Come on darlin’ don’t get all shy oh my now, cum of me.” It was as if your body knew who it belonged to as your feet rose and your legs shook. “Yeah that’s it, cum for me you filthy girl.” Bob growled as he watched your jaw slack. Your eyes began to roll into the back of your head as your chest puffed towards him. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so expertly that he had you gushing. Crying out his name like a perfect symphony.
“Bob, Bob, ohhh fuck Bob!” Bob grinned ear to ear as he watched you cum, watched your entire body burn from his touch and only his. There wasn’t another man on earth who could make you come alive like Robert Floyd could.
He fingered you through it, waiting until you were steady and breathing through it. Your back pressed against the mirror in an attempt to support yourself as Bob moved away to turn on the shower.
Steam immediately began filling the bathroom that smelled of sex and need. You didn’t need any more time to come down from your high as Bob came back over to you with a naughty look in his eye.
“What are you up to Floyd?” You giggled as Bob scooped you up off the vanity and carried you into the shower. Warm water rained down over the pair of you as Bob connected his lips to yours, pressing your back up against the cool tiles as you sunk low on his length. Taking him with ease as he slowly bucked his hips.
“Just taking care of you.” Bob mumbled as he supported your weight up against the wall. Fucking into you like you were his personal sex toy. “Love being inside you, so tight and perfect, all for me.”
Bob was quick to change his angle, he wanted to feel all of you, give you all that he could. As your tongues fought for dominance against one another Bob hooked his arms up under your knees and held your still. Bucking his hips into you with so much force it knocked the breath right out of your lungs.
“Ahhh fuck oh my god—!”
“Shhh, shhh I got you baby I’ve got you.” Bob smirked to himself. He loved the way you came completely undone for him. “You look so pretty like this, all fucked out with nowhere to run, I could keep you up like this all night.” That Bob could, the way his arms were glistening from the water pouring over you made you clench around him. He was big, bigger than ever before. “Oh god if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.”
“Wanna taste it.” You mumbled as Bob fucked into you. “You’re cum, I wanna taste your cum.” Bob had to refrain from filling you up then and there. The way you said it with such a needy little whine had him just about ready to burst. “Please—please Lieutenant.” There was also something about the way you’d call him Lieutenant from time to time that also got Bob all hot and bothered. It was different with you, you made his official rank into something that could be used as sexual gratification. “Let me taste you.”
As Bob helped you get your feet down on the ground, Jake was in search of another bottle of tequila he could distribute shots with. Surprising, the house was empty—he thought he was the only one inside until he heard the unmistakable sounds of a man who was under the influence of sexual desire.
“Who’s that?” Hake chuckled to himself as he raced up the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. As he reached the top of the stairs, Jake heard the unmistakable sound of running water through old pipes, mixing together with desperate moans.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, just like that darlin’ feels so good the way you're taking my dick down your throat right now.” Bob threw his head back as he held the back of your head with a splayed out palm. Helping to guide you up and down his shaft. “Gonna cum do that pretty throat of yours—“ Jake thought he was hearing things when he stopped outside the bathroom door. He swore he could hear Bob Floyd inside that bathroom. It couldn’t be, could it?
“Missed your cock so much— You giggled as you pumped your fist up and down Bob's shaft as he verged closer and closer to his high as you looked up at him. “Probably more than you missed me and my pretty pussy.” And that’s when Jake had to hold back the pride he felt for Baby Bob so it could make room for the rage that flooded his body in the moments that followed.
“Shut it Seresin, keep suckin’ me off baby I’m so goddamn close.” Bob guided you head back to the tip of his cock that he tapped against your awaiting tongue. You took him down your throat with ease, gagging as he held you still with your nose brushing against his perfectly trimmed tamed pubic hair. “Ohhhh I’m there, I’m so there!” Bob groaned as he felt his orgasm pooling at the base of his shaft. “I’m gonna cum! Arghh—!”
Jake felt a rage he’d never felt before bubble up inside his chest. He had never felt such a betrayal, Bob with his baby sister, with you. You were off limits to everyone—Jake always had his money secretly on Coyote since he’d known you the longest but Bob? The fucking WSO!? No. Not happening, or at least it won’t be happening again.
“Oh god I’m cumming—shit shit shit shit!” Bob pulled his throbbing cock from your mouth as you gasped for much needed hair. He tipped you forehead back as you opened your mouth and welcomed the hot spurts of cum that coated your face. Washing away under the fall of the shower head. “Fucckkk—look at you baby, so pretty coated in all my cum.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~
“For the record?” Bob held you close to his chest as you stood before the fogged up mirror once again. Showered and wrapped back up in a fresh towel. “I’d keep secrets just to keep you.” He sighed as he kissed your temple, dressed and ready to join the party once again. Knowing that you wouldn’t be too far behind him. “I’ll see you soon?”
“See you soon Bobby.” Just as Bob chuckled to himself and opened the bathroom door, an enraged Jake Seresin lunged at Robert Floyd, throwing a single punch that landed right against Bob's cheek that sent him down towards the ground with a thud. “BOB!” You gasped as you held your towel to your chest and raced to his aid as he groaned. “Jake! You ass hole! What the hell is your problem!”
“Consider that a fucking warning Floyd.” Jake scoffed as he shook his throbbing hand. He’d been waiting outside the bathroom ever since he came upstairs. “Stay the hell away from my sister.” Jake spat as he walked away, leaving Bob a heap on the floor of the bathroom as you cradled him in your lap. Fuck.
Yep. It was definitely going to be a cruel summer.
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#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd smut#bob floyd smut#top gun bob#bob top gun#hangman top gun#bob floyd x female reader#robert bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd fanfiction
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good girl | b.f
pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader
word count: 3978
warnings: mild idiots to lovers, smut, nsfw [18+ only], unprotected sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk,
summary: in which you have a chat with bob that doesn’t go the way you intended it to, but he more than makes up for it
author’s note: happy birthday to my bby lewis! 🥳♥️ best to read the snappening first 🤭 if you want to be notified when i post, follow and turn on post notifications for @bobgasm-library 😁
the snappening | masterlist | awards season
You hate that your alarm is waking you at 5 am. You hate that you got super drunk last night. Mostly, you hate that you crossed a line with Bob. You didn’t know what the day held in store for you, but a chat about what happened was inevitable.
You groaned as you slid into the shower and tried to wash the disgusting feeling from your body.
The plan was simple. You’d arrive at work early and get settled for the day, then disappear to grab coffee once everyone had arrived. It meant that you could delay the chat with Bob temporarily, giving you time to stew over the situation instead of tackling it head on.
Yeah, this grown-up shit was so easy.
You got settled at your desk and grinned at the email that had been flagged. It was a mission briefing for Bob and Phoenix, so you stopped into your boss’ office to let him know. Haywire was a hard man to work for, but as his assistant, you made it work.
Haywire appreciated the information – he hadn’t yet checked his computer, but he knew about the mission. As his assistant, you had a high security clearance, but more importantly, his trust. He relied on you to ask the questions a lot of people wouldn’t typically ask a superior, either out of nerves or fear. It was expected of you to sit in on mission briefings for that exact reason – Haywire liked his pilots to be well informed of any and all risks.
This mission briefing wouldn’t be any different. As you left, he made the call to Phoenix and Bob, so you headed down the hall to prepare some coffee and try to gather your bearings. He wasn’t even here yet, but the memories of last night had your toes curling and heat warming your cheeks.
Your heart roared in your ears as you looked up and saw Bob walking in through the doors. He gave you a polite nod and smile, but you weren’t even expecting that. You gave him a small smile back, taking in his appearance.
He wore his flight suit, and Phoenix fell into step beside him. You knew they likely had an early morning training scheduled, which had now been delayed by this new mission briefing. You stopped yourself before you got caught staring, but he smirked at you like he knew. Like he knew where your mind had drifted to, even if it was for a fleeting moment.
You held his gaze, refusing to back down, and watched them disappear into Haywire’s office. You collected a few mugs from the cupboard in anticipation of Haywire calling out for two more, already one step ahead of him. He caught sight of the four mugs lined up, met your eye, and quickly provided his help to carry them all back to the office before starting the briefing.
You sat beside Haywire’s desk, legs crossed as you sipped your coffee and tried to avoid looking at Bob. It was inevitable though. By the time your eyes settled on his face, he was already looking at you.
Your head was swimming as you replayed the videos from last night in your head. The sounds he made.
Good girl.
Fuck. You squeezed your legs together at the thought. The thought that he actually wanted you the way you wanted him, and that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. That you hadn’t just risked your livelihood for the sake of an orgasm.
You tried to focus on the mission briefing as Haywire talked, handing out folders to both Bob and Phoenix. They both wore stoic expressions, listening intently to what was needed of them. Haywire outlined the importance of their mission – recon only. They were going in with no backup which was risky, but the images they had of the site were dated.
“Our next move will be to send a SEAL team in once we’ve got a better visual of the site,” Haywire proceeded. “Those men will be your backup.”
“But no air support,” you countered. “What if the site has grown and they’ve got an updated defense system? It’s a suicide mission.”
“It’s the mission,” Haywire replied.
“Would you take the same risk if you’d been given the mission instead?” You asked him. “Are you really willing to let two people be shot out of the sky and killed, or taken hostage? The SEAL team is only good if there’s hostages to rescue, but how long until they get the green light to move in? Assuming they’re still alive, of course, or would that be another recon mission determining that?”
Phoenix and Bob both shifted uncomfortably. You could only assume they’d been thinking along the same lines.
The choice was simple, and Haywire made the correct one. He called his superior, Admiral Shaw, who’d sent down the mission briefing. Why he wasn’t present for it was a mystery, but Phoenix and Bob seemed a little less tense after hearing your words being repeated to someone who would actually go to bat for them.
When Haywire ended the call by promptly slamming the phone home, you jumped a little. Startled by the dramatics.
“They’ll get back to us with updates,” Haywire said. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenants.”
You stuck around in the office for a minute once Bob and Phoenix left, letting Haywire debrief you on what the plan was. Your questioning had brought up some very good points that needed addressing, and his superiors would figure it out. He thanked you and dismissed you, hoping it didn’t take them long to figure out the semantics of the briefing.
“Why are you so jumpy today?” Phoenix asked you. You shot her a cautiative look as you waited for Bob to get far enough away. “Does it have something to do with Bob?”
You huffed. “You’re too observant for your own good,” you stated, dragging her down the hallway and pushing her inside an empty office. “I’m only telling you this because you have a secret of your own that you don’t want to get out.”
You paused as you watched her try to swallow the lump in her throat. Yeah, you knew she had a thing going on with Coyote. How you’d found that out was need to know.
“I accidentally sent him a video of me masturbating last night. I was hoping to try and avoid him, but that’s not going so well,” you explained, pressing your hands into your eyes to try and quell the headache you were starting to develop.
“Did he watch it?”
“Yes, and sent his own back,” you said, blowing out a deep breath. “I’m freaking out. I can’t avoid this conversation forever. I just…I don’t think it’s a conversation to be had before your mission, you know?”
You didn’t hold your breath. Even your own words sounded like lies to your ears.
+++
By the time lunch came around, you were anxious. Heading to the dining hall on base to meet with Phoenix like usual, hoping she wouldn’t ask for any further information about the Bob situation. You planned on keeping it to the more important shit, like the mission they were going on. You even anticipated a question or two thrown your way, so prepared a couple to ask her instead.
Thankfully, lunch was a standard affair. Phoenix sat with another couple of pilots who you knew and greeted warmly, making yourself comfortable at the table and engaging in friendly conversation.
Bob lingered off to the side of the cafeteria. You caught his eye and he nodded his head slightly, gesturing for you to follow him.
Your breath caught in your throat as you stood up and followed him without a glance back at Phoenix or the other pilots. Trailing behind Bob with as much dignity as you could muster before steeling yourselves away in the privacy of an empty office.
“Hi,” he said sweetly. You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes, making him laugh. “Yeah, I know, but I never actually said it this morning and, truthfully, I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you all day.”
“Hi,” you replied, giving him a small smile. You couldn’t help it. Whenever he smiled you felt the need to reciprocate, even if it wasn’t aimed at you, but it was amazing when it was. “I’ve been doing the same, honestly. I don’t even know where to start.”
He nodded in understanding, resting back against the desk. Not quite sitting, but not quite standing either. Hands resting in his lap, with one ankle crossed over the other.
“I need you to hear what I’m not saying,” he told you. You nodded slowly in understanding. “I can’t do anything while we work together. I know how much you like your job here, just like I like mine. While there’s nothing to say that interpersonal relationships aren’t allowed, they’re not exactly welcomed unless you’re married.”
You hummed, once again nodding slowly. “So it’s business as normal, right?” You asked, following his train of thought.
“As normal as it gets around here,” he said.
You nodded. “Do you regret that it happened?”
“No, not at all. Do you?” You shook your head. “I’m not trying to make this awkward.”
“Don’t worry, I’m doing a good job of that myself,” you replied, earning a small chuckle. “I should…go. Lots to do today.”
“It doesn’t need to be like this.”
“It does, Bob,” you stated. “At least for now, anyway, because this isn’t exactly welcomed.”
He sighed as you slipped out of the office. You hadn’t meant to throw his words back at him, you knew his heart was in the right place, but he was only delaying the conversation further. Who knows what this week would have in store for you, but you just hoped that their mission went off without a hitch.
After lunch you went straight back to work, responding to some emails before you were dragged into a meeting with Haywire. You kept minutes while the men talked about other classified missions. You did your best to keep up with the chatter, but the conversation was hectic. Everyone spoke overtop of one another and you could barely register who said what.
And then you started thinking about the situation with Bob.
Had you blown it, with your actions of the previous night and your passive aggressiveness towards him earlier? You knew he was only thinking of your job, and you did appreciate that. But you’d gotten yourself into this situation, too. You could decide how to play this out, you didn’t need to rely on him.
Yet you hadn’t said that to him when you had the chance. You hid behind your cowardice and let him decide how it was going to work. Let him call the shots, and for what? Because you were too scared to lose your job, or too scared to lose him?
The meeting dragged on, but you slipped out when a few of the men did the same, essentially ending the meeting. Lou kept you company as you typed up the minutes before disappearing into Haywire’s office. He’d apparently gotten a call about the new mission briefing that enlisted extra air support and a few extra contingency plans. In not so many words, all the Daggers were now being sent on this mission, which filled you with a lot more confidence. And, no doubt, did the same for Phoenix and Bob.
You tried to finish up the email you’d been working on for Lou, but you had to ask him a question about it before you sent it. Sighing, you reached for your bottle of water and took a few sips, allowing yourself a moment to relax.
It wasn’t long before all of the Daggers showed up and headed into Haywire’ office. He hadn’t asked you to sit in, so you stayed put until he called for you.
You exhaled heavily and slumped back in your seat, wishing the day would just end already. When Haywire eventually called for you, you stood in the doorway since there were already six extra bodies in the room.
“The reason you’re all here is because of that woman there,” Haywire said. “She pointed out flaws in Bob and Phoenix’s mission, which has caused me more work today trying to get approval to send air support. This is where the rest of you come in.”
Haywire spent the next twenty minutes outlining the new mission parameters, as well as answering any questions the aviators had.
“So we get to work with SEAL’s?” Hangman asked.
You rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, noting how Bob stifled a laugh.
“Not directly. The SEAL team is four days from the location. You’ll be moving out in two days at 1600 hours in order for them to be in position when you do your flyby.”
He continued to bring the rest of the team up to speed. Detailing exactly how this mission would be flown and everything they’d be needing to do. This was still very much Phoenix and Bob’s mission, but now they had support. They weren’t as nervous to fly this mission knowing they had immediate backup.
You excused yourself before the meeting was over to take a phone call at your desk, explaining that you’d get Haywire to call them back when he was free.
When Lou came back out, you picked his brain to finalise the email before sending it, then made a beeline to the bathroom. You didn’t need to go, not really, but you locked yourself in a stall and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. Hoping that by the time you made it back to your desk, the Daggers wouldn’t be in Haywire’s office anymore and you didn’t have to see Bob.
You felt so frustrated by the situation you’d made for yourself. Frustrated that you’d let this happen. You took a few deep breaths before emerging, washing your hands just for a reason to stay in there a little bit longer.
By the time you made it back to your desk, a few people had started to leave. They’d be back in the early hours of the morning, ready to make a start on whatever was needed before the carrier took off in the next few days.
When the clock hit 5, you took Phoenix up on her offer of dinner and waited for her outside the barracks. Barely five minutes had passed before Bob was hollering your name down the hallway.
You slowly turned around and saw him beckon you towards Coyote’s room. With a sigh, you walked down the hallway with as much confidence as you could muster.
“You told Phoenix?” He asked you.
“Like she’s a saint here,” you replied, staring between her and Coyote.
“You told her?” Coyote asked in horror.
You were all in similar stages of distress and you felt backed into a corner. So you laughed. You laughed because how the hell had you all found yourself in similar situations? Bob soon joined in, and before you knew it, Phoenix and Coyote had too.
It was ridiculous. Of course it was. And it was awkward as hell, so you laughed your way out of it. Swiping at your eyes as the laughter died down and you were soon pinned beneath Bob’s gaze.
“Dinner tonight?” He asked. “Please say ‘yes.’”
“Yeah,” you agreed stupidly. “I’ve got a couple things to finish up but it shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’ll keep you company.” He grabbed his coffee before you both left, leaving Coyote and Phoenix to deal with their own mess. “Do you actually have much to do or was that just an excuse to get out of there?”
“I have shit to do but it can wait until tomorrow,” you told him, packing up your things you’d left outside Phoenix’s room. “Where do you want to go?”
“There’s a hole-in-the-wall Italian place not too far away,” he replied, digging his hand into his pocket. His keys jingled, and you gave a nod. “I’ll drive.”
You followed him outside, watching your feet rather than staring at his back like you wanted to. When you reached his car, you slid into the passenger seat. Swiftly buckling your seat belt as he did the same and turned the engine over.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he apologised. “About how I chose to handle things.”
“By passing the blame onto the fraternisation policy?” You asked, just to clarify. You turned your head enough to look at him, glad he at least looked ashamed about it.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “The truth is that I was trying to buy more time to figure out what I really wanted to say.”
“Have you figured that out now?”
“Yes,” he replied, letting silence wash over you.
“Okay? Are you going to share with the class or make me guess?”
He chuckled softly. “I thought it was obvious.”
“I want to hear you say it, Bob.”
Your heart thundered in your ears as he spoke, “I want you. I have for…god, too long now. I don’t even care if that initial video wasn’t intended for me, because you moaned my name as you came and it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
The car was parked in the back of a parking lot, away from the strip of restaurants to your left. You’d been too busy watching him, staring at him. Admiring the way his arms flexed as he rolled the steering wheel between his hands. The way his mouth moved as he talked…telling you everything you wanted to hear.
“It’s not the first time,” you confessed, voice low. So low he turned to look at you and you could see the lust clouding his vision. The way his eyelids drooped slightly as he took in your heady expression. “I imagine you every time.”
“Get in the back,” he told you, and you were quick to scramble into the back seat, over the centre console. He followed behind you, lifting you up with little effort and settling you down in his lap.
His hands gripped your hips firmly, and you placed your own on his chest. Feeling his heart racing beneath your touch. Because of your touch. Because of the implications of what was to come.
“Kiss me, Bob,” you requested, running your hands through his short hair. He leant forward and closed the gap, lips pressed firmly against yours.
You melted into his touch, kissing him back without hesitation. His fingers lifted your shirt, skimming up along your sides. You moaned at his light touch, goosebumps raising on your flesh. He bit down on your lip in response, feeling you shift against him.
He groaned as you tugged his hair. “You gonna be a good girl and ride me?”
You rolled your hips against him one more time, feeling his growing erection pressed against your core.
“Fuck you for calling me ‘good girl,’” you said.
He chuckled, brushing some hair back from your face. “But you are,” he said softly, breathily. “And I want you to ride me.”
There was something about the way he looked at you so carnally, like an animal staring down its prey, that had you removing your shirt without a second thought. You wanted him so badly, in any way you could get him. You didn’t care you were currently both trying to undress in the back of his car, or that anyone could walk by at any time.
Both of you in varying states of undress, Bob stroking his cock as you straddled his lap once again. Sliding his hand between your thighs, a breathy moan falling past your lips.
“So fucking wet for me, baby,” he said, pressing two thick fingers inside your heat. You groaned at the intrusion, hands gripping his shoulders as he worked you over. Making sure his fingers were nice and slick before wrapping them around his cock again and positioning his tip at your entrance.
He gripped your hips as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. He bit his lip, eyes glued to where the two of you were connected. You whimpered at the angle, at the feeling of him finally inside you after years of fantasising.
“So deep,” you panted. “Fuck, Bob.”
He groaned as you rolled your hips, cunt clenching around him. “Knew you’d be so tight…so fucking wet. Feels like heaven, baby.”
You gasped as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, over the top of your bra. Hands wound into his hair as you rocked your hips, lifting and sinking rhythmically.
His teeth grazed against the taut nub he was suckling on before paying the same attention to your other breast. You gasped and threw your head back, scratching your nails against his scalp.
He moaned, the vibrations coursing through your body. Your hips rocked a little harder against him, gasping at the tightness in your lower abdomen. He watched you lower your hand between your bodies, two fingers circling your clit and bringing you that much closer to your high.
“I didn’t say you could cum, baby girl,” he warned you.
“Please, Bob!” You whined. He gripped your ass, holding you up and refusing to let you keep going. “Fuck, please.”
“Please what?” He asked you. You pressed your forehead to his, a whimper falling past your lips.
“Please…wanna cum on your cock,” you begged. “Thought you wanted to feel me come undone around your cock, Bobby?”
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I do. But if you cum like this I’m not gonna be able to pull out.”
“So don’t,” you told him, taking his face between your hands. “Wanna feel you finish inside me, Bob.”
He kissed you roughly, teeth clashing as his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned as his fingertips dug into your hips, his own snapping up as he fucked you.
You tugged at his hair, or pawed at his chest. So close to your orgasm, wanting to touch yourself. Wanting to tease your clit until you came all over his cock. Until he had you chanting his name and memorising the way he felt inside you. The way he made you feel.
The way you wanted him to continue making you feel, even when things went back to normal. Especially then.
“Fuck yes, squeeze my cock just like that,” he goaded, head thrown back as your cunt tightened and your body started quivering. “Feels so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight.”
“I wanna cum, Bob,” you pleaded. “Wanna cum all over your cock. Wanna feel you filling me up.”
He grunted, thrusts becoming harsher. His hand smacking your ass roughly as you matched his pace. You slipped your hand between your bodies once again, toying with your clit. Winding that coil so tight within your abdomen that you didn’t realise you were cumming until you collapsed into him. His hips thrusting upwards, grunting once, twice, three times before he stilled. Holding you close as he came undone inside you.
You wanted to stay wrapped in him forever, but your body felt like jelly and he was still talking to you.
“Such a good girl riding me, baby,” he said, lightly stroking your back. “Knew you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock. Such a pretty little thing, fucking hell.”
You hummed, lips pressed against his neck. Feeling his pulse beating rapidly against your mouth, chests flush together and bodies still connected.
“You feel so good, Bob, so right,” you told him, drunk off the post-coital euphoria. “Don’t want this to end. Don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised you. You lifted your head to look at him and he smoothed your hair back from your face. “I wanna take you home. Can I take you home?”
“Yeah, take me home.”
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#international bob floyd fucks month#ibff#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut
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Imagine
Bob putting soft cock in his bunny so they can feel it grow and stretch them out
￫ a/n: oh goodness fucking hell yes please dear anon jesus christ i’m foaming at the fucking MOUTH rn 😵💫🤤
￫ c/w: cockwarming and p in v.
you’re pawing at his chest as you straddle him on the sofa, with your face nuzzled in between where his neck meets his shoulders and mouthing at his warm, bare chest.
“need you, bobby, please.” you softly whine.
he chuckles quietly before cooing at you. “i’ve got you, ‘m right here, bunny.”
one of his large hands is still cradling your head and letting his fingertips scratch your scalp. his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulls them down, freeing his soft cock. “it’s a little soft right now, bunny, but i’d never deny my sweetheart.”
the keenness of you rutting your hips along this thighs and hearing you needy whines, mixed with his hand giving it a couple of strokes, allows it to harden ever so slightly. it’s just enough so he can sit inside of you, but still soft enough that it doesn’t fill you whole.
you let out a huff of content breath at suddenly feeling so connected to bobby, before grinding your hips more. you’re still kissing and mouthing at his bare chest, with little groans leaving your lips.
“feels s’ nice, bobby. i like feeling you grow ‘n stretch me out.” you murmur against him.
bob lets out a silent, “oh.” before settling his large hands to your hips and moving them against his own. you whimper at each movement, being able to feel his tip nudge deeper inside of you and his shaft grow. you felt bob’s warm lips press against the shell of your ear and kiss you tenderly, with his voice soothing in your ear.
“does that feel nice, bunny? feelin’ my cock stretch out my sweet cunt? so good for me, letting me fill my sweet bunny whole.”
#💌you’ve got mail#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x y/n#robert floyd#robert bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd imagine#bob floyd smut#bob floyd imagine#robert floyd smut#robert floyd imagine#lewis pullman#lewis pullman x reader#bob and his bunny <3
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Summary: After teasing and disobeying Bob, you get your well deserved punishment.
Warning: Choking (yes this is the bicep choking fic), dash of size kink, lots of sex, oral (both receiving), language, mean dom Bob bc I'm a whore
"Darlin'. Behave." His voice is low, gravely in your ear. His fingers gently squeeze the flesh on your hip. To others, it looks nothing out of the ordinary. Just Bob, whispering sweet nothings to his partner.
If only they knew.
You let out a confused hum, tilting your head up to face his. The smile on your face is innocent, unassuming. The same smile that Jake swears was the key to him figuring out that you were married to Bob, stating that y'all looked like 'you just stepped out of a movie musical from the fifties'.
You didn't wear long dresses and skirts because you felt a kinship to a particular decade.
Rather, the extra fabric made it easier to cover yourself while Bob fucked you in his truck.
Which is exactly what you wanted to be doing right now instead of watching Jake and Bradley argue over a round of pool.
Usually wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing your back into his chest did the trick. Apparently watching two grown men argue was too distracting.
So you began to move your hips, subtly grinding your ass against his crotch. Bob simply squeezed the flesh of your hips, sending a subtle reminder back.
That just wouldn't do.
God, you had been aching for him all day. And yes, it was a bit greedy to still want him after he gave up arriving on time tonight in order to eat you out. Truly, you had hoped the act would be enough until you two returned home.
But he just looked so good in his white T Shirt. Bob was always handsome, but you loved it when he dressed casually. The soft fabric of his shirt hugged his muscles that he didn't show very often. It seemed that people often forget that Bob had to stay physically fit for his job, that he also had to do two hundred push ups.
You never forgot.
"Just a little bit longer, then we'll go home. Kay?" Bob whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
You nodded your head, despite being unsatisfied with his response. Stilling your body, it appeared that you understood his request.
Bob slung an arm around your shoulder, his hand near your breasts, but just out of reach. Your thighs clenched at the sight of his fingers, thinking about how earlier he had used them to make you come so hard your legs shook.
So your hips began their ministrations again. To onlookers, it looked as though you were simply swaying to the music playing from the old jukebox.
Bob knew the truth.
The grip he had on your hip tightened, his lips trailing from your forehead to your ear, "What did I just say?"
"I like this song," you stated, shrugging your shoulders. It was fun, seeing how far you could push him. Bob was pretty good at keeping up the facade, as if his cock wasn't growing erect underneath his jeans.
If things were up to you, his cock would be growing inside you while your back was pressed into the mattress.
Instead, you were still at the Hard Deck, Bob seemingly determined not to break.
"Y'know I'm gonna fuck you when we get home, right?" He whispered, pulling you closer to him, hoping the promise would be enough to satiate you.
"I know," you said with a sweet smile. No one thought anything odd of your exchange because it looked like a normal conversation you and Bob were having.
If only they knew.
Your hand trailed up from his thigh to the back of his neck. His hair was soft, curling thanks to the hat he had on. That old trucker hat that he always wore when he wasn't in uniform.
Bob let out a strangled grunt upon feeling you tug his hair. The sensation only lasted for a few seconds, your hand moving quickly back to his thigh.
He was stunned, or so he appeared.
His arm swiftly moved up your chest. Your eyes bulged upon feeling his bicep against your neck, restricting your airway.
The action was brief, his bicep gone before anyone could see anything. But the sensation, how easy it was for him to choke you, how he didn't have to move his arm that much because the muscle was so big, remained in your brain, replaying over and over again, your thighs clenching.
"That made you wet, didn't it?' He asked, chuckling. As if he just witnessed something amusing, rather than choking you in public.
"Why don't you go check?"
His stare burned into the back of your head. You didn't need to look, you knew his icy blue eyes were narrower, his nostrils flaring as he thought about what you just implied.
"You heard me," you whispered, words smug.
Bob's hand moved quickly. It wasn't a hard slap, but it made your eyes widened. Within seconds after slapping your face, that same hand was now gripping your chin, tilting it upwards so he could press a kiss to your lips.
No one noticed.
He had been so fast, that it looked like he was simply cupping your chin to kiss you.
How sweet.
No one noticed how his hand was trailing up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, moving towards the space in between your thighs.
No one noticed how his eyes widened when his hand felt your soaked folds rather than cotton.
“This whole night?” Bob asked.
"Wanted to be ready for ya," was the only explanation you gave him.
It was all you needed.
Bob didn't let you get that far into the house. As soon as you reached the living room, your knees were on the carpet. The soft material brushed against your face as your legs were pried apart.
"Ya think you're so big for that fucking stunt, don't you?" His hands were rough, grabbing your hips, pushing them towards his.
A desperate moan fell from your lips upon feeling his clothed erection against your bare ass.
"Should have fucked you right then and there. But you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You couldn't help but let out a needy whine upon hearing the sound of him unzipping his jeans.
"But you'd like that too much, wouldn’t ya?" His voice was sinful, low and gruff as he repeated himself, indicating he wanted a response.
It took some time for Bob to be this comfortable around you. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries, and quite frankly, part of him was worried you wouldn't be into it.
He was so wrong.
For as much as you liked being in charge, there were times where you didn't want to make decisions, to think through every action. You wanted to be daring, to be reckless.
Most of all, you wanted someone to reign you in, to call the shots.
It worked out well, for Bob only had so much control in his daily life. He didn't call the shots, that was ultimately up to his pilot. He couldn't control what others did up in the air.
But in this moment, he could control you. Could mold you to how he saw fit. He could make you cum over and over until your legs shook or edge you till tears ran down your face.
He had options, choices. Something he reminded himself as he felt your bare cunt grinded itself against his denim covered crotch.
His large hand found your ass, roughly grabbing your soft flesh, practically marveling at your curves.
“Only want you Robby. Only you,” You pleaded, your voice music to Bob’s ears.
“God, you’re so soft,” He murmured into your ear, his fingers finding their way to your soaked folds, “Want all of ya.”
You moaned as his fingers thrusted into you, finding that special spot with a precision and quickness that only Bob possessed.
The sound of his name said in broken moans filled the air, mixing with the lewd sounds of your wetness as his fingers continued his ministrations, his thumb finding your clit.
With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how desperate and loud you were. But god, his fingers were so thick and made you feel so fucking good. Bob knew your body like the back of his hand, every curve, every spot that drove you closer to the edge.
And you’re so close, you need just a few more thrusts, a few more rough circles drawn on your clit and you would be seeing stars when you closed your eyes.
But you didn’t deserve that. Not after what you just pulled.
Which is why Bob responds to your tears and pleads when he pulls out with a harsh slap against your cunt. Pleasure laced pain courses through your body, your own fingers gripping the rug for purchase.
“Don’t you dare. Turn around and show me how bad you want to come and maybe then I’ll think about it,” Bob ordered. His words caused your walls to clench around nothing.
You maneuvered your body so that you were now looking up at him. His erection was straining against his clothes, his cock impossible to ignore.
Quickly, your fingers found the buttons of his jeans, undoing them enough so you could easily pull down both his pants and boxers to his knees.
Your mouth all but salivated at the sight of his cock, now resting against his abdomen.
Bob had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. It was perfect, not too thick, curved ever so slightly, which allowed him to hit that spot with every thrust.
You moaned as your lips touched the plush tip, tongue lapping up the precum that had formed. The vibrations sent shivers down Bob's spine, a deep grunt falling from his lips, his hands gripping your shoulders.
He used his hands to gently guide your mouth further down his cock. Your cheeks hollowed out, trying to take in as much of him as you could.
"Just like that sweetheart, f-fuck." Bob could maintain his composure thousands of feet up in the air, but as soon as your pretty mouth was wrapped around his cock, all bets were off. Your mouth was heaven and he loved how eager you were to show him you were able to take so much of him now.
Drool began seeping down your chin as your head bobbed up and down, taking in as much as you comfortably could.
His call sign never stood for baby on board.
"Ya want me to come in your mouth? Or that pretty little pussy of yours?" His words made you want to rub your thighs together, an urge you were desperately fighting, not wanting to risk any more punishments.
You looked up at Bob and he wished he could take a picture. Wide eyes and your mouth wrapped around his cock. You were beautiful and all his.
And boy, did Bob Floyd fucking love it.
His fingers gripped your chin, guiding your head away from his cock, "I asked you a question darlin. You gonna give me an answer or do I need to teach you some manners again?"
"I want you to come in my pussy. Please."
Bob chuckled, "So polite for a dirty little girl. Turn around."
And that was your punishment. He'll fuck you, he'll let you come, but you couldn't see him unless he let you. You couldn't kiss Bob unless he wanted to.
He entered you swiftly, eliciting a near scream from you.
"Robby!"
No one had ever made you feel so good, so full before. Bob wasted no time, knowing you were prepared thanks to this afternoon.
"Fuck, taking my cock s-so good, angel," his voice was shaky, his breath hot on your ear. Even if you were in trouble, he couldn't help but praise you.
You tilted your head up, hoping he would act on pure instincts and kiss you.
His lips ghosted over your face, cerulean eyes nearly all but closed as he reveled in the feeling of your warm cunt clenching around his cock.
"S'big Robby, I-"
"Shhh," he pressed his lips to your forehead, "You don't have to think. Just let me use that pretty little pussy of yours."
He snaked an arm around your neck, tightening his grip so his bicep pressed against your throat. Now you had no choice but to look up at him.
Broken, choked gasps filled your living room, swirling with the sounds of Bob's hips meeting yours. All you could do was take it, his cock repeatedly brushing against the spot that made your toes curl and your back arch in pleasure.
Before you met Bob, you didn't think that spot even existed.
"You gonna make a mess all over my cock? C'mon baby, you can do it," Bob flexed his bicep, further restricting your airflow.
That one movement broke the dam. Your legs shook as white hot pleasure ran through your body. Bob, ever the doting husband, was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you up while your orgasm took over your body.
"Please don't stop," you're begging and you don't care. Every thrust prolongs your pleasure. All you can focus on, all you care about is your husband and how his cock is sending you to a pleasurable bliss.
"S'pretty, want another one," Bob's chest was pressed against your back, his hand snaking to just above where you two connected.
His fingers, calloused from years of work, felt heavenly on your clit.
The pleasure was now rolling through you in waves. Each thrust, each swipe of your clit sent you reeling. If it weren't for the arm Bob and around your neck and collarbone, you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself up.
"C'mon baby, so fucking pretty. Know you got another one in ya. Fuck, you feel so good. C-can't believe I get ya all to myself, love you s'much," his words were beginning to slur, as if he was drunk off of you.
It was one of your favorite parts about having sex with Bob. When his words began to slur, when the only things he could intelligibly say were praises for you, the only thing he could focus on was you.
Between Bob's praises and the circles his thumb was drawing on your clit, your eyes closed as pleasure took over your body again. You were screaming something, could feel your throat strain as you spoke. But what exactly it was, you couldn’t say.
A large hand cradled the back of your head, the other maneuvering your legs so they were wrapped around a lithe waist.
When you opened your eyes, you found yourself lying on your bed, a pair of blue eyes staring back at you.
"Hey darlin," Bob's voice was soft as his nose glided over your cheek, "Wanna keep going?"
You weakly nodded, your hands reaching up to his hair.
"Use your words darlin," Bob reminded, fucking his head down to press gentle kisses and nips across your neck.
"Want," you whined, causing Bob to sink his teeth into your collarbone, "Want you to come inside me Robby! Please!"
A low, guttural groan came from your husband, "Fuck, how did I get so lucky?"
His mouth trailed down your body, leaving kisses all over. Your fingers flew to his shoulders when you felt his nose brush against your clit.
"Robby, you said-"
"I know," his breath was hot on your most intimate part, "But I just gotta taste ya first, okay?"
Bob couldn't help it and you knew it too. Yes, he got to taste you earlier. He knew it was bad to be greedy, but your cunt was an exception.
So he didn't feel bad when his tongue found your soaked folds, lapping up your arousal. It drove Bob wild, getting to taste you. He had to fight the urge to grind his hips against the comforter, wanting to come inside you.
Your fingers were threading themselves in his sun kissed hair, needing something to hold onto as he groaned against your cunt.
"S'good," Bob moaned, sending vibrations all along your body. Wanting to keep you ready for him, he thrusted a finger inside you.
"Robby!"
Bob simply smirked, knowing your walls could feel the cool, smooth metal of his wedding band. He continues making languid thrusts against that spongy spot, the one that he knows drives you wild, makes your legs shake.
Besides, you were still being punished. You wanted to come so badly tonight, so Bob was going to make you come.
Over and over again.
Your back arched as his tongue continued to lap at your clit, sensitivity surging through you.
While your release came in a smaller wave this round, it was still intense. Your fingers gripped the soft strands of Bob's hair, hips jerking upwards in a shameless attempt to get more of Bob's mouth.
"What's wrong? Thought ya wanted my cock darlin," Bob smirked when he pulled away.
It was impressive how after five years he could still take you by surprise. You open your eyes, his words making you want to sit up.
Instead, your husband's lips crashed onto yours, his large hands pushing you back down to the mattress.
"Asked ya a question darlin. Gonna give me an answer?"
Two could play the game.
Your fingers gripped his hair, nails brushing against his scalp as you tugged on the locks, pulling his head back.
"You gonna fuck me?"
You could only place a few love bites on his neck before you were back on your knees, face against the pillow.
"When did you get so bold?" The rural drawl laced his deep voice, his breath hot on your neck.
"Since you stopped fucking me." That was the final straw. Bob quickly lined his cock to your entrance and thrusted in without a warning, sending you practically reeling.
"Fuck Bob!"
"That's what I'm trying t'do," he snarled, his hips quickly meeting yours.
Any smartass comment died in your throat when Bob's bicep pressed against your neck. God, it was easy to forget how big and strong he was. He tried to hide it, tried to make himself small, make himself blend in by hunching over, by not taking up as much space.
Which was why you loved it when he displayed his strength. He didn't have to flex much, if at all, to have the muscle against your throat, restricting your airway.
"Can tell how much ya love that from the way you're clenching me so tight."
You could only let out a strangled hum of agreement, too busy focused on how fucking full you felt every time he bottomed out.
Bob knew you were getting close. He could tell by the way your breath quickened, your walls clenching around his cock, not wanting it to leave.
Bob was also very close. Had been for quite a while. But he was raised to be a gentleman and you deserved to come several times before he did.
His free hand trailed down to where you two connected. Just a little more attention to your clit and Bob would have you right where he desperately needed you.
All you could do was take his cock, take in the scent of eucalyptus that surrounded him, mixed with the sweat that came from his hard work.
"M'so close," you weakly groaned, fingers finding purchase in your comforter.
"I know, just a little more. You can wait for me, I know ya can. Fuck I'm so lucky, married to ya. Ya gonna take it all too, aren't ya? Fuck, I love ya so fucking much."
He released the grip he had on your throat, turning your head so he could capture your lips once more.
That was what sent you reeling. That's what made you see galaxies when you closed your eyes. The only thing you could focus on was how good he felt, fucking you, coming inside of you, filling you up with everything he had.
For what seemed like ages, you two were frozen in place, trying to catch your breath.
"Darlin, I'm gonna pull out now, 'kay?" Bob finally said, gently pressing a handkerchief to where you two were connected.
"Can we shower after this?" You mumbled.
Bob pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "Course we can."
"With the shower steamer?"
Bob chuckled, "The rosemary one, right?"
"Love ya Robby."
"I love you too darlin'."
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Pattern Breaker
Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (afab)
Category: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love
Summary: A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.
Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral (pussy eating king), vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, handjob, kissing, groping, scratching/marking, Bob fucks, love confessions, fluff, talks of bad dates, reader described as having hair and being shorter than Bob (but nothing else), swearing/cursing - let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 7.1k (it kinda ran away from me)
A/N: My humble contribution to the Bob Fucks Agenda 🫡
Consider buying me a coffee :)
Bob Floyd was head over heels in love with you.
Yet he had no idea what series of mistakes had landed him here. In the Hard Deck. With you. Sat next to him. In a tight booth. Your thigh pressed up against his. Tracing patterns with the tip of your finger on the back of his hand. Many would argue that this didn't seem like a bad thing. Why would something so intimate with someone he was in love with be a mistake? Well, the issue was that you were doing it in a totally platonic way.
You were doing it mindlessly too, as you engaged in idle conversation with Phoenix opposite you, which almost made it worse. Bob Floyd's brain was whirring at a million miles per second over something you were doing without even thinking about it. It took every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from moving. Closer to you or further away, he didn't know. But he tried to stay still. So very still. Just so you'd keep doing it.
He was also desperately trying to pay attention to the story you were telling Phoenix, about the latest bad first date you'd been on. It appeared to be a regular thing with you. A string of first dates where you knew before you'd even ordered the entrées that they wouldn't be the right guy for you. And you always had valid reasons, at least in Bob's opinion.
"He told me he doesn't like sunsets." You groaned. "Like, who doesn't like sunsets?"
Bob personally loved sunsets.
Phoenix frowned at you. "Did he give a reason why?"
Bob imagined that Phoenix was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, she was the one who'd set you up with this guy. But he was thankful for it. He didn't know what he'd do with himself when you finally managed to find the right guy and it wasn't him.
"Something about the day ending and having a mindset about being on the grind I think, I don't know." You sighed, pausing your finger's movement against the back of Bob's hand for a moment before carrying on. He almost had a heart attack when you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and started leaning against him as well.
"Sorry it didn't work out. I can find you another guy maybe, umm..." Phoenix trailed off with a thoughtful hum.
But you waved her off. "No, it's okay. I think I'm done with blind dates for now."
Bob's head snapped towards you. Oh?
"If you're sure." Phoenix started to rise from the table, pressing her hands into the wooded surface. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you two tomorrow."
"Goodnight, see you tomorrow." You smiled at her, nudging Bob with your elbow when he stayed silent.
He flinched away from you. "Ow! What? Oh. Yeah, goodnight."
Phoenix's eyes flicked between the two of you, an amused huff leaving her mouth before she gave you both a mock salute and left the bar.
There was a silence between the two of you for a moment as you relaxed against Bob's shoulder a little more.
"What about you? Ready to call it a night?" You asked, turning to rest your chin on his bicep so you could look up at his face.
He glanced at you briefly, turning away again when he realised how close your faces were in that position and cleared his throat. "No, I'm good here for a little longer. If you are?"
You nodded and sat up, extracting yourself from his touch completely. Bob almost sobbed at the loss of contact.
"Yeah, I'm good." You paused to take him in, how he wasn't looking directly at you. He did that sometimes. You always figured he was just a little awkward about eye contact. Which was a shame considering his eyes were your favourite shade of blue.
Bob did flicker his eyes towards you then, wondering why you were staring at him silently. "Are you okay?"
You shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."
"Yeah?" He turned to face you properly, knees angled towards you to show that you had his full attention. "What about?"
You looked at him for a few seconds too long, enough to make him anxious and you think that maybe you'd given something away with your eyes. "You know how when we met we just clicked?"
Bob was surprised at that question. But he knew exactly what you meant. So he nodded. "Yeah."
You scrunched your nose and looked away from him for a second. "Well, I'm not clicking with any of these guys I'm going on blind dates with."
He knew that, you’d said as much. So he really didn't know where you were going with this. "Okay...”
"I just wish it was as easy as it was with you. Like we just work together so perfectly, I don't even feel like I'm trying with you."
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking sideways at you. "Uh-"
Your eyes widened and you were quick to clarify, hands held up in apology. "And not like I don't put any effort into it with you but just like I don't feel as if I'm constantly trying to make it work, y'know?"
He nodded again. "Sure."
You sighed frustratedly. "Do you get what I'm trying to say here, Bob?"
"Not really." He shook his head and gave a weak, apologetic smile.
You chuckled. "I'm trying to say that I've never clicked with a guy like I have with you."
"Right." He straightened up.
"But we're just friends." You said slowly.
He hesitated. "Mhm."
You squinted at him. "To cut it short I'm trying to say that I think I'm in love with you."
Bob could have fallen out of his seat.
"Oh!"
Now, that caught him really off guard.
"Well, I'm trying to figure out my feelings for you. Because they're certainly more than friendly!" You laughed quietly. "Which isn't really fair. To me or to you. But it's gotta be done because I'm sick of not clicking with men and being on dates where I'm just constantly thinking of how much easier it would be if I were sat across from you instead."
Bob ignored most of your rambling, fixating on one little statement. "Why's it not fair?"
Your face crumpled momentarily. "It's going to make it awkward for you if I am in fact in love with you. And it's unfair for me because I might be in love with a guy who only views me platonically."
Bob looked at you for a moment, eyes wide and almost pleading, and uttered your name softly.
You frowned. "What?"
He gave you a meaningful look.
"You do view me platonically, right?" You leant backwards. "Right?"
He glanced away from you before looking back, giving a short and sharp shake of his head. No.
The world shook around you.
"But- but you never made a move. I thought that you..." You trailed off into distressed thought.
"Oh, I made moves. Just not very obvious ones apparently." He cleared his throat with a quick cough, scrunching his face momentarily in embarrassment.
"Why did you never just say?"
"I guessed that you weren't interested since you never seemed to reciprocate my- my moves." He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed at the thought of his moves.
"But I'm all over you!" You exclaimed. "I'm so touchy!"
He froze and turned to you stiffly. "I thought you were just like that. With everyone!"
"Have you ever seen me touch another human being half as much as I touch you?" You said monotonously.
"Well..." He thought about it. He hadn't. You gave hugs, sure. But you certainly didn't stand with your head resting on anyone's shoulder, arms wrapped around their bicep like you did with him. You didn't sit next to anyone, legs resting over their thighs, like you did with him. You definitely didn't trace patterns on the back of anyone's hand like you had been with him earlier.
You let him think about it for a few moments before interrupting his thoughts. "You didn't answer my question. Why didn't you just say?"
Bob looked deep into your eyes, recognising the look of regret he could feel within himself. "By the time I had the courage to... the friendship was already solidified. And I thought it would ruin it."
"Oh, Bob." You smiled widely at him. "You should've said something. I had a huge crush on you when we first met."
Have a huge crush. Have.
He perked up slightly. "You did?"
No. Do.
"Yeah! I buried it after a while because I figured you weren't interested. And now I'm realising that I'm probably in love with you anyway." You found it almost funny how the two of you seemed to be in the exact same situation and yet had no idea how the other was feeling.
He decided to be honest. "It would certainly brighten my day if you were."
You had a thought suddenly. "Walk me home?"
Bob felt a sense of whiplash from the rapid change in topic. But didn't question it. "O-okay."
You grinned at him and motioned for him to get up, following him out of the booth and grabbing his hand once you were stood next to him. Not having to worry about closing out a tab with Penny since you'd been paying for drinks each time you ordered, you didn't hesitate in dragging him behind you out the back door of the Hard Deck and onto the beach.
You took a glimpse at Bob next to you, finding him already watching you. "Figured we could do the moonlit beach walk on the way back to my place."
He just nodded, not missing the way you were still grasping onto his hand as the two of you started walking in the direction of your home. The moonlight beach walk wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. You'd done it countless times before, in fact. It was just a nice thing to do that happened to involve some nice views that you both enjoyed. It just felt different this time, Bob thought to himself.
He had to ask. "Your last blind date, did he really not like sunsets?"
You looked at him, delighted by the seemingly random question. "Yeah. How off-putting is that?!"
"Very." Bob mumbled. "Y'know... I really like sunsets."
Ah, you saw what he was getting at.
"I know." You chirped. "I'll never forget the sunset on the day we met when you explained that the reason they're so colourful is because of the way the light scatters through the atmosphere. It was very purple that night."
His eyebrows shot up. He'd forgotten he'd told you that. But you were right. It had been very purple. He'd watched you take about thirty photographs of the sky. And knew then that he was in trouble.
The rest of the walk back to your place was quiet, a few passing comments made between the two of you as you pointed out a cute dog and Bob showed you where new flowers were beginning to blossom on a tree you regularly saw. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole time, swinging gently between your bodies.
It was easy. Just how it should be.
Silence shrouded the two of you as you approached your front door, wondering what was supposed to come next. Bob was still hung up on your sudden abandonment of your conversation back at the Hard Deck as you stopped at your door. Why had you dropped it?
The question escaped him as you suddenly tugged him a lot closer, so your chests almost touched, and lowered your voice.
"Come inside."
It wasn't proposed as a question, or even a request, but as more of a statement. Like you were telling him that he should follow you into your home to find out what happens next. Because of this, Bob could only reply with one thing.
"Okay."
There was no turning back now.
You beamed at him and rushed to unlock your door, flicking on a light switch once it was open and ushering him in behind you. Bob had been to your place countless times before, even crashed on your couch once or twice after nights there had run a little too long, but this time felt different. Just like the walk on the beach had.
He supposed it was because of what the two of you confessed earlier that night. But he still couldn't shake the thoughts about the fact that the conversation hadn't carried on to a point where he knew what was going to happen next between the two of you. Bob wanted answers. And he guessed that they were hidden in the depths of your home.
You guided him to your kitchen, offered him a drink which he politely declined, and stopped suddenly in the middle of the room to turn on your heel and look at him.
"Do you know why I asked you back here?"
He stilled a few paces in front of you. "Honestly? No."
You smiled at that. "Because I decided that I am."
Bob was even more confused. "Am what?"
You barked out a laugh like you suddenly realised you'd left out half of your sentence and that what you'd said had made no coherent sense. "In love with you. Absolutely head over heels. One hundred per cent.”
He said nothing in reply, sensing that you had more you wanted to say. He was right.
"And I wanted to be able to explore that possibility for us without prying eyes. In the privacy of my home." You huffed, slightly frustrated. Bob took a single step towards you. "I don't- I don't know how to say this."
He closed the gap, hands resting on your arms to reassure you. You'd never struggled to tell him anything and he certainly didn't want that to start now. "It's me. You can say anything to me. You know that. It's okay."
When you met his gaze again, your eyes were slightly glassy with tears. But you blinked them away. They were angry tears at yourself for taking this long to get to this point with him. It should've happened so much sooner.
Your eyes flickered to his lips. Bob knew what that meant, he was feeling it himself, but wanted you to say it.
Letting out a slightly shaky laugh, you composed yourself. "You might need to let me spiral and talk for a minute."
He smiled softly, surprised he wasn't doing his own spiralling and talking in this situation. "That's okay."
You nodded and sighed. "Okay, so. I don't want things to change between us. Well, I do. But, like, not everything. I still want us to be us. I still want to be able to tell you everything and have easy conversations and just go for walks on the beach and talk about meaningless things and have you explain stuff to me that you think I'll find interesting and sit close to each other just because we can not because we have to."
You stopped for breath and Bob felt like he was having to restrain his heart from bursting out of his chest.
"We'll still just be me and you and things will be easy between us. Like they always have been. But now... instead of sleeping on my couch after late nights, you'll- you'll sleep in my bed. And we'll kiss and, god, have a lot of sex I hope."
Bob chuckled at that and you joined him, happy to see that he wasn't freaking out at everything you were saying.
"We'll still be me and you but just... evolved. Right?"
Bob had started the evening knowing he was head over heels in love with you. He couldn't believe the night was ending with that love somehow growing even more, combining with yours to create some force that defied the laws of nature. The room was practically swimming in it, he could feel it prickling at the surface of his skin and taste it on the top of his tongue.
He nodded firmly at you. "Me and you but evolved."
You visibly relaxed under his hands and smiled giddily up at him. "Great, can you kiss me now?"
You didn't have to ask Bob twice.
The kiss started off sweet, almost innocent. A few, slightly open mouthed, pecks as the two of you giggled against each other. It was something new for the two of you. So even thought it felt right, it was still new territory to explore. But it didn't take long for it to take a turn. As soon as you opened your mouth fully to lick gently against Bob's lips, it was like something in him snapped.
An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you flush against him, chest to chest, and his other hand tangled in the back of your hair. His nose crammed into your cheek, his glasses falling slightly askew, as he licked into your mouth hotly with his head angled down to meet you halfway.
Your head whirled with the thought that he was good at this. Bob Floyd was an extraordinarily good kisser. Why hadn't you done this sooner?
You let out soft moans to encourage him despite him not even seeming shy about the idea anymore. In fact, Bob had no sense of restraint left in him. He'd waited so long for this, for you. And now he was lost in the feeling of your skin against his and the sounds you were making in reply to what he was doing. Which is why he let his hands drift across you more, not anchoring his touch to any specific place.
You felt like you were on fire, no time to breathe as breaks for oxygen were mere fractions of a second long. You'd never imagined him being capable of making you feel like this so quickly. Your lower abdomen burning with desire and your panties already practically soaked through. And he hadn't even touched you intimately yet. You could only hope that you were having half the same effect on him.
Bob's hands lowered themselves slowly, tracing along your ribcage, circling your waist, gripping at your hips, before he tentatively let them rest on your ass. You hummed in motivating appreciation and pushed yourself up even more to kiss him impossibly harder. He took that as a good sign, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them and rocking your pelvis towards his. Where you found that he was hard.
A noise rumbled in your chest, leaking out as a high pitched whine directly into his mouth.
Bob pulled away with a slight look of concern in his eyes which now held almost no trace of the blue shade you'd come to adore, pupils blown wide enough to engulf his irises. "Is this too much? We can slow down."
You shook your head, slowing down being the last thing you wanted. "No, I'm just surprised that you're so... handsy. I always thought you were a gentleman."
"Oh." He blushed a deep red, the colour reaching the tips of his ears. "I'm just eager, I guess. We can wait. I mean, I can wait. If it's too much."
You leaned back in closer to him, lips brushing across his. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"
He did.
Somehow the second round of kissing was even more searing, almost consuming, than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand gripping tightly onto his hair and tugging occasionally. Bob didn't let up squeezing at your ass after he'd realised that the sound you'd made previously was one of pleasure and not pain, rocking your hips into his a couple times more for good measure.
When his lips moved to trail a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, your eyes practically rolled back into your head. This was too good to be true. You were stood in your kitchen, at almost midnight, and Bob was sucking a hickey into your neck. How was this even real?
You realised that if you didn't move soon then the two of you were going to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. And whilst you weren't totally against the idea, you figured you should at least offer him the comfort of a bed for your first time together.
"Bedroom, Floyd. Now." You gasped, grasping his hair to pull him away from your neck. But when you got a good look at him, you almost abandoned the idea completely. His hair was ruffled from where you'd been pulling at it, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, his face was flushed a rosy pink, his lips were swollen and kiss bitten, and his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. He was a sight to behold.
You snapped back to reality, fixed his glasses so they sat correctly on his face, clenched your legs together, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to tug him behind you towards your bedroom. Bob, of course, had no complaints about this and followed you very happily. After watching you kick off your shoes as the both of you scurried down your hallway, he did the same. Not many thoughts were occurring in his brain at that moment, not any clean ones anyway, but one thing was certain as he looked at you: he'd never wanted someone more.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind him and before he had the chance to take in any of his surroundings he was pressed up against it and your lips were on his again, your hands desperately clutching at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants.
"Why- do- you- always- wear- your- uniform?" The question was asked between fiery kisses. Not that you were complaining. You loved to see him in his uniform. But he always looked so formal.
Bob waited until you were too distracted trying to unbuckle his belt to kiss him so he could get his answer out fully. "You once told me I look handsome in it."
You paused and tilted your head up to look at him. Taking in his open expression, you could tell that he was being honest. "God, I fucking love that you listen to me."
He laughed momentarily before his jaw snapped shut and he swallowed thickly as you began fumbling with his belt buckle again. "Your hands are shaking."
The observation was simple but had you freezing anyway. "Care to help a girl out then?"
Bob could tell that you were getting anxious, nerves suddenly overruling the initial excitement and lust. He could understand. He was currently running on the high of you dragging him to your bedroom. Maybe you also needed something like that to keep you going.
He glanced over your shoulder towards your bed and nodded towards it. "Lie down."
Bob watched as the fire quickly re-ignited in your eyes and you did as you were told, bouncing on the mattress as you sprawled yourself across it. Undoing his belt completely, he took a few steps towards you until he stood between your open legs.
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him eagerly. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it and crawled across it until he was hovering over you.
You hummed quietly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Hmm, I like this position."
He leaned in close, as if going to kiss you. "I thought you might."
His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. It was a tone you'd only had the privilege of hearing a few times before. During late nights when he was tired and could barely keep his eyes open as you continued to talk his ears off with meaningless nonsense but did so anyway just so he could listen to you talk. When he'd held you close to him during crowded nights at the Hard Deck and spoken directly into your ear so you could hear him over the sounds flooding the place. Moments that were intimate between you both but you'd been too oblivious to see as more than platonic.
It was the voice that Bob Floyd used to flirt with you.
You pulled back, wide eyed, to get a good look at him. "Oh, my god. You have made moves."
His brows scrunch for a moment, a confused laugh bubbling out of him. "Yeah, I said so earlier."
"I know but that voice." You poked his chest accusingly. "It's your flirty, sultry, bedroom voice! You've used it on me before!"
"It's not my-" He paused, thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Maybe you're right."
"I like it, it's hot. Do it again." You giggled when he rolled his eyes, reaching your hands up to start unfastening the buttons on his shirt.
"And what would you like me to say?" His voice dipped back down to the low tone and you had to suppress a shiver.
"Anything. I just like hearing you talk." You reached the last button and helped him slide the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that you knew always resided underneath. The brown uniform shirt was discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.
"How about how I think it's time for you to start removing some clothes? Since my shirt's off and my belt is unbuckled." His raised a finger to trace along the neckline of your t-shirt.
You whined. "Not fair. You're not even showing any skin yet. If I take my shirt off then all I've got is a bra on underneath."
Bob chuckled, low voice lost for a moment. "Is my white t-shirt not the equivalent of your bra?"
You pondered it for a moment. Maybe he was right. "Depends if you like the way my tits look in this bra as much as I like the way your biceps look in that white shirt."
He took a quick glance at his arms which were caging you into the bed, hand planted on either side of your head. "My biceps, huh?"
"A weakness of mine, I admit." You shrugged and sat up, pushing at his chest to give you some room. "Have to stop myself from biting them when I rest my head on your shoulder."
"For the record, I'd totally let you."
With a laugh you took Bob's hands in yours and guided them to the hem of your shirt, giving him a nod of confirmation. "You would now but let's be honest, it would've been a little unusual of me to just suddenly bite you before."
He tried desperately to keep eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have said a word of complaint."
"I'll remember that for the future." You paused and noticed his frozen stare. "You're allowed to look, y'know?"
He knew but he was holding himself back with the knowledge that he'd probably go feral once he saw you without a shirt on. Just below his eye line he could tell that the bra you were wearing was lacy and pretty much see-through. He took a deep breath before looking properly and let out a very low groan when he saw that your nipples were hard and very visible through the fabric.
Bob's dick twitched in his pants at the sight. He feared he wouldn't last very long once the two of you actually got going.
You leant back on your hands and watched him look over you. It was kind of entertaining and certainly a confidence booster for you. "Like what you see?"
His eyes met yours again. "Shut up. You know I fucking do."
That sent a ripple of heat through you. Despite knowing him for so long, you'd never heard Bob curse. He'd let out the occasional damn at big inconveniences but never anything more than that. You figured it was part of him being such a gentleman and the fact that he loved to point out that his mother raised him right.
"Careful, Floyd. That dirty mouth will get you in trouble." You flattened your back onto the bed again, pulling him down on top of you by a handful of his shirt.
"If by trouble you mean with you underneath me then I'm willing to take that risk." His voice somehow got lower, a raspy edge being added to it. It's like he knew exactly how to break you.
You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him down to kiss you again, you'd gone too long without feeling his mouth on yours, and you revelled in the grunt he let out against your lips.
This was a whole new side to Bob that you were seeing. And you were loving it. Somehow it was still so easy, the two of you continuing to just bounce off of each other and the sexual chemistry was luckily just naturally there as well. You thought it may have been slightly awkward between you but you'd never felt so confident about sleeping with someone in your life.
Bob realised he should probably check something before the two of you got any further so pulled away momentarily. "Do you have a condom?"
"Oh, yeah! Wait, hang on-" You slid away from him, hanging over the edge of the bed to rifle through a drawer in your nightstand. Producing a small box, you waved it triumphantly at him.
"Hoping those blind dates were going to be successful, huh?" He teased, reaching out to grab your waist to drag you back underneath him. He was relieved you had the box but if you didn't then he knew it wouldn't have stopped him from doing other things to you until you were able to buy some condoms.
Your jaw dropped. "No! Just never underprepared."
"I applaud your readiness. I'm sure if the apocalypse hits then we'll be thankful for your supply of condoms."
"If the apocalypse hits then we'll be tasked with repopulating the Earth and have to have lots of unprotected sex to do so." You bit back playfully, glad to see when his eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the mention of doing it raw. "Oh, you like that thought, huh?"
"You caught me. Guilty." He raised a hand in surrender before gesturing at you. "Now let's get naked so we can have lots of protected sex."
You had to fight back a surge of laughter but let a few giggles escape when you found Bob looking at you with an amused look of his own. You were glad that the two of you were still able to joke and be you even in an intimate moment like this, relieved that it didn't suddenly become serious.
Clothes were discarded and quick kisses were exchanged as the two of you inched closer and closer to where you both really wanted to be. After your bra had been unclasped and thrown into the void with every other item of clothing, and Bob had thoroughly explored your chest with both his hands and mouth, you fell back onto the bed with him on top of you for another round of kissing. It's like the two of you couldn't keep your lips separated for longer than necessary.
His bare chest pressed into yours, a sheen of sweat gliding between you, as he rocked his hips against you, grinding his hard length into your clothed pussy.
If you'd told Bob at the beginning of the evening that this was how his night would end then he would've laughed and told you he didn't believe you. But now that he was here, he couldn't have imagined it any other way. That's what made him realise that enough was enough.
He suddenly broke the kiss and sat up again, kneeling in between your legs. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of your panties, he made eye contact with you. "May I?"
You nodded vigorously.
Bob shook his head. "Words."
You could've orgasmed right there and then. "Yes, you can."
He took that answer and started to slide your panties down your legs slowly, helping you to lift your hips to get them off easier. Once they reached your ankles he plucked them off and cast them aside, planting a quick kiss on your calf before lowering your legs either side of him again.
You reached for the condoms to pass them to him, aware that you were only the one step of removing his underwear away before he'd finally be inside you.
But he pushed your hand aside, choosing instead to slide his palms down your thighs. "In a minute."
"We haven't got forever, y'know. Get on it." You laughed, curious as to what he was doing.
"Gotta get you ready first." He mumbled, pushing your legs apart so he could see better.
Oh? "I can assure you that I'm plenty ready and wet and would like your dick inside me now please."
"So polite." He hummed with a smile on his face. "And I can see how wet you are. Just gotta make sure that you're relaxed enough to take me."
"Somebody's confident about their size, huh?"
He laughed as he shook his head. "Would you rather me not go down on you?"
As much as you were teasing him not to, you very much wanted him to. "Fine, if you insist." You replied with a sigh and an exaggerated roll of your eyes.
Bob almost chuckled, but when he looked up into your eyes again he was met with an angelic vision. You were stretched out on the bed, naked, for him. All for him. He reminded himself to thank the universe at some point. But, before that, he needed to thank you by making you come.
He shuffled back on the bed, moving your legs over his shoulders as he did so, and laid flat on his stomach before you. And got to work.
Bob practically devoured you.
You writhed underneath his grasp, one of his arms thrown across your stomach to keep you in place, as he licked and sucked at you. Your clit throbbed against his tongue as he flicked it from side to side over the sensitive spot. One of your hands flew to tangle in his hair as your legs trembled on either side of his head.
"Oh- oh, my god." You panted, chest heaving with laboured breaths. You looked down at him to see that his glasses had fogged up. You let out a slightly strangled laugh at him as he decided to slide a finger into you at that moment.
"Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped and collapsed back onto the pillows.
Bob moaned into you and you let out a cry at the feeling of the vibrations running through you. His finger pumped in and out of you. Slowly at first before he increased the pace and then, once you were somehow even wetter, introduced a second finger.
And with two of his fingers inside of you, bending slightly to hit that sweet spot inside of you, along with his tongue making tight little circles on your clit, it didn't take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen and then suddenly explode through you. Your body shook with pleasure, a tidal wave of profanity and primal noises escaping your mouth.
Bob gave you no time to rest though, surging up your body and kissing you again, giving you a taste of yourself which had you moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back again, you smiled. His glasses were still foggy.
"Can you even see through these?" You asked, reaching up to take them off of him. Wiping gently at the lenses with your bedsheets, you awaited an answer.
"Not really. I usually take them off for this kind of thing. But I forgot. In the excitement." He looked away from you, embarrassed. Funny how he could still be shy despite having just eaten you out like no one else had before.
You hummed quietly, taking his face in your hands to direct him to kiss you again after you'd placed his glasses down on your nightstand as you wrapped your legs around the backs of his and bucked your hips up towards him. "Are we going to do something about you now? Because I know you've been hard since we first kissed."
"I was hoping you hadn't noticed how quickly that happened." The low, raspy voice was back and you felt yourself melting a little on the inside.
"Difficult not to when we were practically dry humping in the middle of the kitchen." You trailed a finger down his torso over his, extremely sculpted, abs and stopped at the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tip of your finger inside.
He watched what you were doing. "I did get a little carried away there, granted."
You paused, asking him the silent question of approval to carry on, before slipping your hand into his underwear and grabbing him. His skin was soft and velvety under your palm and, before you even had the chance to start stroking him, his dick twitched in your hand. "Mmm... so sensitive, Bobby."
He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.
You reached for the box of condoms again, realising this probably wouldn't last very long if you did much else with your hand, and pulled one foil wrapper out. Quietly uttering his name to get him to open his eyes again, you pushed the condom against Bob's chest. "Put it on."
He didn't reply, didn't need to reply, just followed your instructions and did as he was told. Straightening up again into a kneeling position, he flailed around a little in an attempt to kick his underwear off. You tried not to laugh. When he succeeded, he ripped the packaging open with his teeth and rolled the condom onto himself in one smooth motion. And then he positioned himself over you, notching the tip of his length at your entrance.
He looked down at you for confirmation to go ahead.
You had one last teasing comment. "Your confidence in your size was warranted."
He huffed out a laugh. "I'd be insulted in your lack of confidence if I didn't love you so much."
Warmth bloomed through your chest. It had been implied several times throughout the night but hearing the words come out of his mouth meant so much more. He loved you.
You beamed up at him. "Glad to know that your love for me overrides any possible offence. I'll be using that to my advantage in future. Now please fuck me, I'm going crazy here."
Bob adored the way you were able to flip a conversation so easily. But he was glad you'd said it as he was beginning to experience his own temporary insanity being on the brink of having sex with you but not quite being there just yet.
He pushed into you slowly at first and then all at once, not being able to hold himself back. Once he'd bottomed out he paused for a moment, a choked groan leaving his throat. You whined at the stretch, glad for the previous orgasm prepping you for this.
"Just- just give me a second." Bob warned you, hanging his head as he took deep breaths.
Patiently, you waited.
Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to get a grip of himself as he eased out of you before slamming back in again. You gasped at the sensation. He set a pace, a steady yet almost brutal one. The loud sounds of sex filled the room and you hoped your neighbours were long asleep.
Bob buried his face in your neck, using his elbows to keep himself from smothering you. The noises he let out into your skin were heavenly and you were thankful that they weren't too muffled. You clawed as his back, making scratches that you'd have to apologise profusely for the next day.
"Fuck, harder please. Please harder." You didn't think it was possible for him to go any harder, the way he pounded into you already making the headboard shake, but you begged him to anyway. And somehow he found a way.
Your skin prickled with a burn where he slapped against you, one of his large hands sliding down to grip harshly at the flesh of your ass in order to pull you impossibly closer to him. He continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling. The pressure was steadily building in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every thrust of Bob’s hips.
You clung onto his shoulders tightly as you plummeted off the edge, your thighs locking in on either side of him to lock him in place. Bob paused his movements for a second, feeling you clench around him as your throat formed a silent scream that came out as a gasp, and only started up again when you relaxed beneath him.
He pulled away from your neck to look down at you, finding a giddy smile on your face. He kissed you, all teeth and tongues, as he pumped into you a few more times before spilling into the condom. And then he collapsed on top of you.
The two of you stayed there for a couple of minutes, both catching your breath.
“I’m glad you had so many failed dates.” Bob whispered into the glistening skin of your chest.
You laughed quietly. “Me too.”
He eased himself up slowly, pulling out of you with a hiss, to dispose of the condom. “Do you think Phoenix purposely set you up on bad dates so you’d admit your feelings for me?”
You thought about it for a second. “Probably. She knows I’ve had a crush on you for forever. And I can’t think of any other good reason that she’d set me up with a sunset hater.”
Bob pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for you to get in, crawling in beside you. “Can’t believe that guy.”
“I know!” You laughed and turned on your side to look at him. “Wished she’d done it sooner then we could’ve been doing this for a lot longer.”
He joined in on your laughter. “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time now to be doing this a lot more.”
You smiled. “I’m glad.”
He smiled back. “Me too.”
You scooted closer to each other, limbs tangling together into one big mess, softs words of love exchanged between you as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.
A/N: this is the longest thing I think I’ve ever posted as a single thing… hope you enjoyed!
#bob fucks#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#robert floyd#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd fanfiction#top gun#top gun maverick#ej’s fics#ej’s writing#deakyjoe’s fics#deakyjoe’s writing#bob floyd smut#robert floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut
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Morning After
pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x fem!reader
summary: while at the hard deck you meet a shy guy, but get him to loosen up with some shots. when you two walk home you learn who he is, Bob. Bob goes on the fuck your brains out that night, even stays over at your place. he quickly leaves in the morning, only for you to meet back up somewhere unexpected.
wc: 4.5k
warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, blow job, cum play, spit play, pet names (angel), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.
a/n: i've been cooking this one up for awhile and had it as an idea for even longer. this is my little crack at the bob fucks idea.
“What are you? A wallflower?” The words come out of your mouth with a particular tone, not one that you had initially intended. Alcohol always tends to do this, making you a bit more loose and unaware of your actions. It was such a drastic change from your normally reserved nature. Phoenix had always teased you about it, saying you became a completely different person when you drank. Eyes narrowed at you behind the glasses, his eyebrows knitting together. But there was a confused smile to the questioning look, one that made your heart flutter.
“I don’t really know what that means.” A rosy flush tinted his cheeks, taking a drink from his beer bottle. You raised an eyebrow, questioning his reply. A gentle smirk pulled at his lips while he looked at your expression. “What?”
“Are you being serious?” All of it was too cute. The way his lips curved into that half smile, words barely forming in his mouth. He took a sip of his beer while shaking his head no. “Like you know,” you nudged his arm with your elbow while your brain buzzed, “someone who knows everything but isn’t a part of it. Stays on the wall of things.” He raised his eyebrows again, biting at his lower lip while you watched him.
“I mean, kind of.” A bit of nervousness laced those words, pointing out that you might have hit some form of nerve. A pang of guilt shot through you, the weight of your words finally catching up.
“Hey, I’m really sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said anything.” A soft look settled on his features, taking in your apology.
“No, you’re good. My friends are alway on my ass about not putting myself out there. I don’t mind, it was just an observation anyways.” You couldn’t help but stare as he adjusted his glasses, pushing the wire frames back up the bridge of his nose. You offered him an awkward smile before taking a drink from your beer. You leaned up against the wall next to his chair, the two of you silently deciding to watch the room together. It had seemed that your friends disappeared from the bar, or maybe your brain just wasn’t registering them anymore. That’s when an idea popped into your brain.
“Do you wanna go do a shot? Maybe two?” He was mid drink of his beer when the words hit him. His eyebrows knitted together slightly, a look of thought on his face. You watched the him intently, finishing off the drink in your cup.
“Ah, sure.”
-
“Eight hours? How?” A tone of shock was laced in your words, your facial features reflecting the same level of shock.
“It was a big lego set! Like,” he paused for a moment to think, “a lot of pieces.” The two of you laughed at the thought of it. The both of you were five shots later and giggling all over the bar of the Hard Deck. The two of you had chatted about mundane things at first but slowly ventured out. The conversation had covered movie favorites to TV show horrors. Lego sets were the new topic, a personal favorite of the new man that had captured your heart tonight.
The two of you were beyond the point of driving, making you thank yourself for getting a rental unit close to the bar. You knew this man wasn’t able to drive either, not sure whether his friends had also ditched him like yours had. The intention of the night wasn’t to bring someone back home with you. But after being the one who suggested the shots, you felt obligated to take care of him. Bringing him home would be simply that, taking care of him.
A source of warmth brushed your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. The look on his face had changed when you weren’t paying attention. It was a soft look but different from all of his other ones, but with a hint of lust. A heat filled your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours. His hand settled on your thigh, not leaving its place this time. The warmth from his palm radiated into you, making you borderline nuclear.
“This is gonna sound weird, but do you wanna crash at mine?” It was his turn for his cheeks to fill with heat, a blush blossoming over them. Lips parting slightly then closing again, his words not forming in his mouth. Panic had started to creep its way into you. “If you don’t want to though I get it-”
“I’d love to.” A flutter in your chest was all you felt, the panic melting away. He hopped off his bar stool, the hand on your thigh lifting off for only a second. He offered his hand out to you, taking it as you got off your own bar stool. The both of you fished out bills to leave the bartender before leaving.
The cool air was sobering, helping your brain start processing that you were bringing this man home with you. This man that you hadn’t learned the name of yet. “Wait, wait, wait.” The walk had barely started, the both of you on the shoulder of the road until you hit the sidewalk. One of his eyebrows cocked up, a questioning look on his face. “You’re not gonna kill me right? Cause like I don’t even know your name, and now you’re coming home with me and I just have too much going to die like this.” Word soup. Another favorite trait you acquired when drunk.
A strong silence hung between the two of you, a car passing by to break it. A giggle started emanating from him, making it your turn to have a questioning look. The wrinkles near his eyes made your heart warm, the almost undetectable shake of his head catching your eye. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close into his chest as he started walking the two of you down the side of the road again.
“I’m not gonna kill you, I promise.” A small pause had you, metaphorically, on the edge of your seat. “But my name is Bob.”
Bob stumbled through the doorway behind you, hands low on your back. Bob walked a little bit further into the foyer of your house. After you closed the door you pressed your back onto it, you watched Bob lean against the wall. His jaw was tipped up towards the ceiling, staring into the dark abyss. Your fingers crept over to the light switch, flicking the switch and illuminating the area.
“Wowza.” The light seared Bob’s eyes, him squeezing them shut. A giggle crept up inside you, pushing off the door you walked over to him. Bob rolled his head to look at you, opening one eye open. “What are you laughing about?” A big smile tugged at his lips, his body turning to meet yours. The two of you burst out into a laugh, his arm reaching out and pulling you closer to him.
Heat bubbled up into your cheeks, cerulean orbs staring into your own. A gulp was audible, not sure whether it came from you or Bob. One of his hands trailed up, a finger ghosting over your cheek. The warmth of his body covered yours, sending a small shiver down your spine. Your gaze flicked to his lips then back up to his eyes. Bob leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. Suddenly, he was pulling away from you, hand gently resting on your face now.
“I.. I’m sorry.” A worried look had settled onto his features. Your hand covered Bob’s as you looked at him.
"Sorry for what?" Alarms had started going off in your brain. Did you do something wrong? Was bringing him back a mistake? Was he actually going to kill you?
"I…" A softness gathered in his eyes now. "I was gonna kiss you." Your heart fluttered at his words, the heat in your cheeks burning more intensely. “But.. we are inebriated.” It was cute, his use of such a technical word. You shifted a little bit closer to him, only mere inches in between your bodies. You moved to the balls of your feet, pressing your forehead to Bob’s. That perfect cerulean gaze meeting yours.
“Kiss me.” There was a small pause before you felt his lips met yours. It was a gentle kiss, one that you would have expected from a man like him. Bob slowly backed you up against the wall, his one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved to your hip. The hint of alcohol still lingered on the both of you, becoming drunk on each other now. His hips pressed towards you, pinning you against the wall.
Fingers threaded into Bob’s hair, bumping his glasses and making them go slightly askew. His tongue moved over your bottom lips, asking for permission to slide into your mouth. Your lips parted for him, allowing his tongue to swirl around yours, exploring your mouth freely. You pressed your hips into his, rolling them up against his. The hand on your cheek moved along your jaw, pushing back some hair back from your face.
Slowly the two of you undressed each other. A trail of clothes led from the foyer to your bedroom; you flicked the lights on when you passed the door frame of the room. Both your brains were still in a haze from the alcohol. His lips were like fire against your skin, nipping and mouthing the skin of your neck. One hand cradled your face while the other wrapped around your body; palm pressing between your shoulder blades. The pressure of his palm kept you pressed tight against him. The edge of your bed pressed into the back of your knees.
You climbed onto the bed, waiting for Bob to meet you on it. The only article of clothing left to take off were his boxer briefs. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers toying with the band of his boxer briefs. Bob’s mouth was slightly agape, watching your fingers hook under the elastic band. His cheeks reddened even more, gaze stuck on your fingers as they started to drag his underwear down. His cock sprang free, tip glistening with a small amount of precum.
“That feels so good.” A shaky breath left Bob as he felt your tongue lap at his cock. His hand rested on the back of your head; guiding you slowly as you started bobbing up and down his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him adjust his glasses. A moan fell from his mouth every now and then.
You let your spit start to drool down your chin, gathering at the curve of your jaw. Bob brought his free hand to your mouth, groaning while his thumb gathered the drool on your chin. He moved his thumb around your lips, stretched out around his cock as you looked up at him.
“I could stare at you like this forever.” Bob let out a raspy groan when you pulled off of him, tongue dragging along the underneath of his cock.
“That so?” It was the first thing that passed your lips, a small challenge to him. Bob smirked, his thumb rubbing spit on your bottom lip.
“Let me taste you.” Bob’s words were barely above a whisper, almost begging you. His thumb stayed on your lip as you nodded. He sank down onto his knees, both of his hands trailing down your chest. You draped your legs off the bed, him settling between them. His hands palmed at your breasts, thumbs rubbing your nipples. He leaned in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.
Bob felt like he was in heaven when your back arched, pressing your chest further into his face. Having someone of this beauty want him? It shocked him. But he kept swirling his tongue around your nipple, his other hand trailing down to your clothed cunt. He let out a moan when he pressed his fingers against your cunt, feeling how wet you were.
“Got this wet from blowing me?” Bob questioned, kissing down your sternum and stomach.
“Got a little excited,” you lifted your hips to help him pull your panties off, “at the idea of you inside me.” Bob kissed his way back up your leg, starting at your mid calf and ending on the inside of your thigh. His lust blown eyes stared at you through his glass. He flattened his tongue and dragged it through your folds. You dropped your head back, holding yourself up on your elbows.
Bob kept up with these languid licks for only a moment longer. He started flicking his tongue against your clit, making you whine loudly. Bob brought his arms around your thighs, locking you in place against his mouth. He kept up his assault, randomly alternating the flicks and stroke of his tongue. At some point you had laid back completely on the bed, back arching hard when he sucked on your clit.
“Oh my..” Your mouth was agape, moans and his name flowing freely from it. His right hand left your thigh, snaking up to your breast and squeezing it.
“You sound like an angel.” Bob moaned, keeping his focus on your clit. His other hand left your thigh, coming down and pushing a finger inside of you. Your walls clenched around the finger, him thrusting it in tandem with his licks. Your hand moved down to his hair, almost catching his glasses in the process. Fuck, those glasses were really doing a number on you.
A second finger entered you, then a third quickly. They were pushing and prodding against that sensitive spot inside of you. “Bob,” you looked down at him, “please..”
“Let go, angel.” It quickly became too much, your orgasm rocking through you. You clenched around his fingers like a vice grip, his tongue giving languid strokes to your clit. Your legs began to shake as Bob kept going, not stopping anytime soon. His fingers kept working you while he started flicking his tongue on your clit again.
“Fu-ck, Bob!” You grabbed at his hair, pulling it hard enough to get his mouth off you. His fingers followed soon after, an empty feeling replacing them. Bob audibly gulped as he looked at you, shaking and already thoroughly fucked. A small kiss was pressed to the inside of your thigh, Bob resting his head against the expanse of your exposed inner thigh. The thin metal frames of his glasses pressing into your skin. A comforting smile was on Bob’s lips, making your heart melt as your orgasm finally started to subside.
“That… was amazing.” You whispered as you laid back on the bed, your hands settling on your stomach. Bob placed a few more kisses on your thigh, moving up your stomach to meet you face to face. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Your fingers played with the metal frames of his glasses slightly. There was a small devilish smirk on his face when he broke the kiss.
"I'm glad you liked it," his arm snaked under your lower back, "but I'm not finished yet." There was that confidence he liked to keep hidden away. His arm tightened around your waist, hiking you up on the bed more. Bob had you in the middle of your bed quickly, settling himself between your legs.
"I shouldn't need these anymore." Bob took off his glasses, setting them on the right bedside table. Bob leaned down and captured your lips again. His forearm was near your head, holding up a majority of his weight. Your legs were spread out for him, one of either side of his waist. One hand traveled up and down your sides, soothing and calming you while moving his cock closer to your cunt.
"You ready?" Bob questioned with a peck to your cheek.
"More than ready." Bob brought the hand from your side down to his shaft, lining himself up. Bob kept his eyes on your face, watching how your eyes fluttered when he ran himself through your folds. The head of his cock rubbing on your clit, sending small waves of pleasure through you.
"Bob." It was a plea. You didn't want teasing, you wanted him stretching you out. Bob bit his lower lip and nodded, the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance.
The stretch of his cock had your head thrown back. Bob let out a soft groan when he sank inside of you. Your warmth welcomed him more and more until he bottomed out. His eyes followed down your chest, watching your chest rise and fall. He brought his hand to the side of your thigh, hiking it up further on his hip. Bob nuzzled into your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin.
"So tight." Bob practically whimpered, his hips slowly pulling back just to slowly press forward. The slow thrusts were agonizing. One of your hands threaded through his hair, your other arm draping around his shoulders. Just as you were about to say something, his thrusts picked up.
Moans poured from your mouth, the head of his cock zeroing in on the sensitive spot inside you. Your walls were clenching hard around him, encouraging Bob to fuck you a little harder. Bob pulled back from your neck, watching your face for a moment. "Wanna see you."
Suddenly, his thrusts stopped. Bob got up and sat back on his heels, keeping your legs spread wide apart. You were at his mercy now, your entire body on full display for him. "This way I can see all of you."
Without hesitation Bob pressed back into you, resuming the pace he was previously at. That sensitive spot being targeted once more. Your hands dug into the comforter underneath you, back arching with pleasure.
It felt like his whole world was spinning, watching you underneath him was beyond intoxicating. Bob watched his cock push in and out of you, watching it stretch you open. The way your tits bounced with every forward thrust had his mouth watering. Groans flowed from him as he watched you become more fucked out.
"You're so fucking pretty." Bob grabbed your legs and set them up on one of his shoulders. His arms tightened around them, keeping your legs closed and tight. The sounds of skin smacking and your wet cunt filled the room. You felt that familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching.
Bob knew you were close again, the clenching of your walls signaling it. Bob started thrusting harder, pounding the sensitive bundle. "Bob, I- oh fuck! Bob!" You tightened around his cock, your orgasm crashing hard. His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you through your orgasm.
"That's it, that's it angel." Bob cooed, talking and fucking you through it. But his hips never slowed, keeping you at some form of high still. Bob moved your legs so one was on each of his shoulders. He watched himself fuck into you for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours.
Bob’s head fell back, his thrusts never faltering as he let out a loud breath. You dragged your hands down his abdomen, “Bob, oh my-”
“One more, I need one more.” The hand on your left calf moved to your clit, thumb rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. He started thrusting faster, keeping the circles tight and quick on your clit. The tightness in your abdomen had already returned, the overstimulation pushing out a rolling orgasm.
When your insides clenched around his cock this time Bob lost it. His hips started to stutter while whimpers fell from his lips. Your hands were both now gripping the comforter, borderline screams falling from your lips. His whimpers turned to groans as his orgasm arrived. Bob pulled his cock out, leaving you empty. He pressed his cock between your folds, rubbing it between them. He unloaded himself all over your clit and cunt, spreading his cum all through your folds.
Bob whimpered out a small ‘fuck’, watching himself fuck his cum through your folds. Your hips shook with pleasure, the slick wet feeling of his cum making you clench. Bob’s hands moved to your legs, rubbing the outside of your legs soothingly. He stopped his movements, looking down at you with an equally fucked out look. You finally registered his new look.
A deep red blush covered his chest to cheeks, hair tousled and messy, with a thin layer of sweat covering him. He sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the side and cocking an eyebrow. His chest was rising and falling fast as he regulated his breathing. “Sorry..” Your eyebrows knitted together at his apology, wondering why he would be apologizing.
“Why?”
“Was it too much?” Bob asked, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. You took in a deep breath, trying to regulate your own breathing.
“No, it was really hot.” You smiled as he removed himself from you. Bob laid down next to you, staring at you as you looked at him. “Huh?”
“Nothing, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You rolled your eyes, surprised that the man that just fucked your brains out would think he didn’t please you. “Uh.. where can I.. clean up?”
It was cute, watching him now slightly awkwardly ask for the clean up. You nodded your head and started sitting up, Bob quickly getting up to help you. Your legs were still shaky as Bob helped you walk to the bathroom.
The two of you cleaned up, Bob being as gentle as possible when he cleaned his come off you. The warm washcloth helped soothe the now slightly raw flesh between your legs. Bob quietly waited outside of the bathroom, waiting for you to pee so he could help walk you back to bed. Bob helped you back to the bed, the both of you slipping on your undergarments and you putting on a big t-shirt before climbing under the covers. The two of you quickly fell asleep, Bob holding you from behind tightly.
The loud noise of the alarm woke the two of you up. Bob sat up swiftly, surprised by the unfamiliar surroundings. You reached out, hand soothingly rubbing his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay.” Bob gave you a weak smile, laying back down next to you. The two of you laid there for a few minutes before getting up. You watched as Bob gathered his clothes, dressing himself after finding them all.
“Do you wanna stay for breakfast?” Bob shook his head no.
“I’d love to,” he moved to grab his glasses from the side table, “but I can’t. I gotta go get ready for work.” He offered you a weak smile, hating having to turn down your offer. You gave him a smile, getting out of bed and walking him to the door. You gave him a goodbye kiss before he left.
“Maybe I’ll see you around?” You asked. Bob gave you another smile, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Your morning moved by quickly, shower, breakfast, memories from last night, driving to work. The typical things in your routine. You sat in your car before getting out, thinking about the events of your night. God, you really hoped to see Bob again. If not, at least he gave you a memorable night.
“Quiet this morning, Howler.” Phoenix teased while zipping up her flight suit. “Where’d you disappear to last night?”
“Home. I went home.” You zipped up the front of your suit.
“With?”
“You wouldn’t know him.” You really didn’t want her to know about your escapade last night. Halo chuckled at the two of you.
“Chances are high, if he is a pilot I mean.”
“That’s why.” The three of you giggled as you all finished up. All of you made your way to the hanger, seeing the typical two person tables set up. A few people were already sitting down at the tables. Hangman, Coyote, and someone you didn’t know. They turned around and it hit you. Bob. The man how fucked your brains out was sitting in front of you. His eyes flicked between all of you, landing on you last. They were glued to you, making you stop in your tracks. Of course this would happen, why wouldn’t it?
“What? You scared, Howler?” Jake yelled out, eyes drifting down your stare to Bob. He cocked an eyebrow, staring at the both of you. Hangman didn’t say anything else, turning to make a snide comment at Phoenix. You swiftly made your way to the table behind Bob.
“What the fuck?” You whispered. Bob was bright red, his embarrassment obvious. The confidence he had last night being tucked away.
“I didn’t.. you’re a pilot?” Bob questioned, adjusting his glasses and trying to keep his gaze low while the two of you talked.
“You are too, apparently.” Bob smiled awkwardly, giving a small nod. You couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked like this.
“Gonna introduce me to your friend?” Rooster joked when he sat down next to you. Bradley nudged your arm with his elbow in an encouraging way.
“This.. this is Bob. He is a..”
“WSO. I’m a WSO.” Phoenix pulled that chair next to Bob out, a big grin on her face. Fuck, she knew.
“My most recent backseater.” Her grin painful to you. The teacher started the class, silencing the conversation you all were having.
The class felt like it dragged on. You needed it to end, needed to talk to Bob. Privately. When all of you were dismissed you leaned over your table, getting a knowing smirk from Rooster and Phoenix. Bob turned around when you tapped him on his shoulder. His cheeks were still rosy, making you wonder if he had been blushing all class. “You, me, private.” Bob nodded and got up, the two of you awkwardly excusing yourself from the group for a moment.
The both of you were silent in the side hallway for a moment. He was facing you on one side of the hallway, you leaning against the other side. “So..” You lead.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you.” Bob apologized, making your heart break a little.
“Don’t apologize. I didn’t say anything either.” You said, not wanting him to feel bad. There was nothing wrong with either of you forgetting to mention that you were pilots. “It’s not like we knew we’d be in this group together.” Bob took a few step towards you. His right hand grabbing your left hand, fingers lacing between yours. A smile crept on your lips at his affection. It was something you could get used to.
“At least now we get to see each other again.” Bob’s words were sincere and full of affection. His heart fluttered as he watched you.
“Yeah, I guess we do.” You heard some footsteps, the both of you looking down the hallway to see Natasha.
“Hurry up you two! We are getting ready to head up!” Once she stepped out of sight Bob pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was your turn for a heat to fill your cheeks at the gesture. A happiness spreads through you, glad that he was going to become a constant in your life.
#robert floyd#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#robert floyd smut#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#robert floyd fluff#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x reader smut#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fanfic#bob floyd fanfiction#top gun x reader#bob floyd top gun#bob top gun#top gun maverick#lewis pullman x reader#lewis pullman
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Underestimated
Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x You/Reader/OFC
Summary: Being mistreated isn’t uncommon for a woman working in a male-dominated field, but Bob isn’t going to let it slide when he witnesses it happen to you.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, military/mechanical inaccuracies (I’m assuming), misogyny, etc.
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For as long as you can remember, people (men) have underestimated you. Starting with your older brothers thinking you were an easy target, though they quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Next, your math teacher overlooked your intelligence because you were female. Your guidance counselor tried to persuade you away from the Navy after graduation because you weren’t tough enough for the military. The RDC laughed in your face the first day of boot camp, saying someone of your stature would never make it through; it sure felt good to see the smile fall from his face when you received ‘Outstanding’ marks in your physical readiness test.
But just because you were used to being underestimated; doesn’t mean it doesn’t get old.
It’s been two months since relocating to your hometown to be the lead aviation structural mechanic of North Island and none of the men you oversee have warmed up to you. The look of disappointment on your crew’s faces when you were introduced was obvious; your name was gender-neutral so they were counting on a male. You hadn’t expected them to befriend you, but you did expect respect; which was definitely lacking.
“A little help over here,” you call out, struggling to not lose your grip on the intake part you were trying to replace.
“Hello? Can someone help me?” You ask again a few minutes later, muscles trembling as it slides further off your shoulder. Not only would it hurt like a bitch if it lands on you, but it’s also not a cheap part if it bends or breaks.
“Equal pay for equal work, sweetheart. You can’t do the work yourself, you shouldn’t be here,” Jackson, the smug asshole, replies while the others chuckle in agreement.
“Fuck,” you grit out, trying not to panic as it begins to fall. But strong hands are helping you guide it into place. The same hands that have been on your mind since he dwarfed yours when he shook it on your first day.
Your attraction to the rest of him has only grown in the time since, along with your feelings; you adore his sweet, quiet demeanor. Natasha keeps telling you he feels the same way about you, but you haven’t built up the nerve yet to make a move.
“I’ll hold it here while you attach it,” Bob says softly near your ear. Your heart races as you do so, getting close enough that you can smell his signature leather and clean laundry scent.
Bob’s brows furrow as he watches your arms shake from the exertion. “How long were you holding this up?”
“About 5 minutes,” you reply, catching him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.
You’re done a moment later, sighing in relief when you put your arms down.
“Thanks,” you say as you set down your screwdriver and wipe your hands. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in his flight suit.
“No problem. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asks as he wipes off his own.
“I did,” you sigh. “The boys here uh…aren’t too fond of me being their supervisor.”
“Why not?” He asks, perplexed.
“Because I’m a woman,” you reply with a shrug. “They don’t think I’m right for the job because I ask for help with lifting sometimes. Among other thing so I’m sure.”
His expression quickly turns angry.
“What’s up, Floyd?” Jackson says, smacking Bob on the shoulder. “If you need something worked on, you’re better off coming to me.”
“Why’s that?” Bob asks, shrugging his hand off and turning around.
“Come on, you know a woman’s place is in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” Jackson jokes.
But you’re not laughing. Neither is Bob.
“A woman’s place is wherever the hell she wants it to be, Jackson. I know you’re an idiot but I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to say something like that in front of me, but also your female commanding officer. I haven’t been impressed with the way you,” he stops and looks at the rest of the guys that have gathered around, “any of you have been treating her since she started but refusing to help her is going against direct orders. Not only could she have been injured, but the part she was holding costs more than a year’s salary for you.”
He steps closer to Jackson as he continues. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to report it, but if I ever see you disrespect her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”
You’re suddenly feeling hot and flustered as the crush you’ve been harboring intensifies as sweet, shy Bob defends your honor.
Jackson visibly gulps, nodding before he looks at you.
“Go home for the day,” you say with a glance at the clock before you begin to clean up your bay. “All of you are dismissed.”
“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jackson starts but you cut him off.
“Save it, Jackson,” you sigh. “I’m not going to report you, but I will if it happens again.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replies before scurrying away.
Bob follows you as you wash your hands in the sink, scrubbing the grease off. “Sorry, if I overstepped. I know you’re more than capable of standing up for yourself. I just can’t-“ he starts but you interrupt him as you dry your hands.
“You didn’t overstep. I appreciate it,” you assure him as you look over his shoulder to make sure everyone’s gone.
You take a step closer, bringing a hand up to play with the zipper of his flight suit.
“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull him to you for a kiss.
He freezes as your lips touch his, but only for a moment before he kisses you back; the tension that’s been building snapping in an instant.
“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he breathes as you kiss down his neck, groaning as you nip his collarbone.
“Me too,” you murmur against his neck before pulling back to take his hand. “Come on.”
You lead him to the parts room, unlocking the door and pushing him against it once closed, gasping into the kiss when you feel his thick erection pressing against your stomach.
He groans when your hand finds him next, palming him through his flight suit. You shiver before pulling down the zipper, wanting more of those delicious sounds.
“What are-oh God,” he sighs when you fall to your knees, flicking your tongue over the wet spot on his boxerbriefs to taste the precum.
“Wanna taste you,” you say, hands pausing by the waistband of his briefs. “Can I?”
You continue when he nods, gulping when his size is revealed to you. “So big,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lean forward to lick the precum beading.
“Fuck,” he whispers before his head falls back against the door with a thump and his hands fist at his sides when you suck him into your mouth.
You bring a hand up to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth and unzip your own coveralls with the other, slipping inside and between your legs to give yourself some relief. Your eyes fall close with a moan as you circle your clit.
“Oh-oh my God,” he gasps when you moan, his eyes zeroing in on what your hand is doing. “Are you touching yourself?”
Your eyes open and take in his wrecked expression before you hum around him.
“Ah…w-wait,” he pants, guiding you off him and to your feet. “I almost-I don’t wanna cum yet.”
You smile as he spins you, pressing you to the door. You shiver as he leaves wet kisses down your neck and whimper when he sucks your nipple through the thin material of your sports bra.
“Next time,” you promise, stopping him as he starts to kneel. “Right now I want you inside me.”
He inhales sharply at your words and nods as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom.
“What are you doing?” You ask with a giggle as he puts it under the light while you slip your coveralls off.
“Making sure it’s not expired,” he replies with a chuckle. “It’s been in my wallet for a few years. It’s good for a few more months yet.”
“Good,” you reply, watching as he rolls it on.
You wrap your legs around his waist when he lifts you and lines himself up to your entrance.
Your mouth finds his as he pushes inside you, and you whimper at the sweet stretch.
“You feel like heaven” he whispers before trailing kisses to your shoulder as you adjust, withdrawing to push back in when you’re ready.
Now it’s your head that thunks against the door as he fucks into you at a steady pace, grunting softly into your neck with each deep thrust.
He pulls back to watch you through lust-heavy eyes as he wets his ring and pointer fingertips before sliding them between you to circle your clit. “Feel good?” He asks, voice husky.
“So good,” you moan, clenching around him as your release starts to build.
“Good,” he nods, “I want you to cum for me, can you do that?”
“Y-yes! Fuck, I’m close,” you whine, your hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as your orgasm rapidly approaches.
He leans in for another kiss and the change of the angle is all it takes for you to fall over the edge with a throaty moan.
Bob’s hips stutter and he fills the condom with a deep groan when you clench rhythmically around him.
He sets you down gently once you’ve caught your breath, making sure you’re steady on your feet before removing the condom. You pull your underwear back on while he zips up his suit.
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he kneels, helping you step back into your uniform.
“I have a date with a load of laundry,” you joke. “Why, what’s up?”
“Think it’d be upset if you rescheduled?” He asks, leaning forward to press a kiss just above your bare knee, then halfway up your thigh as he pulls up the fabric. “You said I could do this,” he places a wet kiss to your clit through your underwear before continuing to rise, “next time. So I was thinking I could pick up takeout and we could have ‘next time’ tonight?”
“I like the way you think,” you reply with a smile, leading the way out of the hangar.
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A/N: Thank you @lexixstewart for the idea (again!) You have such good ideas! I hope you like it!
As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!
Sorry if you’re not a Bob girly, but I’ll add my taglist here:
@mamamaystbr
@its-the-pilot
@dizzybee03
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@shanimallina87
@blindedbythelightt
@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth
@phoenix-rising-starbird-one
@mrsrobertfloyd5
@charmedkim
@k-k0129
@bellaireland1981
@hookslove1592
@amiets2
@nero4te
@eli2447
@atarmychick007
@vixenobrian
@86laura11
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@dempy
@angelbabyyy99
@buckysteveloki-me
@djs8891
@mizzzpink
@daggerspare-standingby
@mrsevans90
@littlezee80
@emma8895eb
@jessicab1991
@devil-angel-winchester
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#robert bob floyd x ofc#robert bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x ofc#bob floyd x you#top gun maverick
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sweet as honey | bob floyd x f!reader
this is can be read as a continuation of my valentines challenge song fic 'best friend'!
this is based on an idea that @sebsxphia elaborated on as one of their lovely nonnys asked about bob practicing eating out on you😵💫 thanks for letting me write this out, seb!🫶
disclaimer; in my head, bob floyd is pussy eating king™ and i felt it was my civic duty to tell you all about it. man has been obsessed with it since he first saw a spread in a porn mag about it, and he'll be damned if he doesn't find out exactly what you like.
warnings; best friends to lovers, mentions of intoxication, cunnilingus, pussy drunk bob, afab reader, no use of y/n.
plot; you have always needed bob, but what if he forgets the one time he actually had you?
tagging people who might like; @lewmagoo @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @theharddeck @mothdruid @bobfloydsbabe @roleycoleyreccenter
Soft whispers of love confessions had turned to sleepy reminiscing as darkness fell outside of the window, starlight and moonshine illuminating the outlines of two bodies intertwined in between pristine white sheets. Bob had never thought that he would ever experience feeling so at peace and so whole - the way he had somehow always felt when you were around. This was different though, he felt like he’d finally come home after years of wandering around.
Even better, he had managed to make it out alive after the worst mission he’s ever flown. He had made it back to you. They had done it. The adrenaline should be overwhelming him, the emotional toil should be tearing at his insides - he should feel like a monster lurks inside his chest ready to claw and tear at his chest - but he doesn’t.
Bob only feels the soothing hands running over his face, only feels the soft breath ghosting over his face as words of love sink into his very skin. Only hears your soft giggles and your emotional voice telling him you loved him. You loved him. God, the very notion made Bob dizzy.
His larger hands had settled on your waist, his thumb softly ghosting over the same warm spot again and again. A couple of times he had noticed the motion had elicited goosebumps over your skin, and if he squeezed his hand slightly he sometimes felt you shiver.
It drove him mad. How responsive you were to his touch. He wondered if he could make your breath hitch, if he could have sweet, soft sounds spilling from your parted lips if he let his hands and lips roam all over your body.
In his mind, there were… fuzzy memories, that he was not entirely sure if they were memories, or just a recollection of a wet dream his teen self had conjured up of you. Either way, the details were rather blurry, but his mind was replaying soft sighs… your soft moans for him. It must have been a dream.
“Do you–” you trailed off uncertainly, voice still barely above a whisper “Do you remember that one night when we were 18?” Bob furrowed his brows at the way you avoided his attempts at eye contact, stubbornly keeping your face nuzzled into his neck.
“Darlin’, we spent many nights together when we were 18…” Bob smiled, letting his thumb brush softly across your cheek “You’ll have to give me a little more,” his voice was low as he tried to coax you into making eye contact with him again. Craning his neck to try to observe your face as you laid on top of his chest.
“You were drunk, I think - didn’t seem like it at the time…” you trailed off, again, Bob smiled softly, letting his palm stroke soothingly up and down your back.
“Unfortunately, I was drunk many nights back then too, Sunny. What is it you’re nervous to tell me?”
“Do you remember going down on me?” Bob’s eyes had fluttered shut some time ago, shot wide open at that sentence - jumbled flashes of sounds and sensations flooding his mind.
“Oh… oh god, that wasn’t— that wasn’t a wet dream?” Bob could kill himself. Could actually go back to the Super Hornet and try to do what Phoenix does with all of that pilot shit until he ran himself into the damn ground.
“You mean to tell me… that I have had the immense honor of having my fuckin’ face buried between your legs and it was not a dream?” he heard your nervous giggles, and groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut tight, before shuffling so that you were lying beside him, looking into your eyes - they looked apprehensive, perhaps a little bashful.
“I am so sorry, darlin’... I truly- I had no idea– I thought that was just one of many dreams my imagination conjured up about you,” Bob murmured, brows pinched together “Did I hurt your feelings terribly?” he never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to be the reason you shed any tears or felt any discomfort.
“I mean - I wasn’t sure, I mean I wanted you to, God, it’s all I ever wanted after it too! But I guess I was a bit upset a little while after when you never brought it up…” you trailed off, fingers tracing intricate swirls on his sternum, gaze following your finger carefully, avoiding his eyes.
“Sunny…” Bob spoke softly, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him, searching your eyes before slowly letting his lips connect with yours, warmth spreading between the both of you as your lips moved together languidly.
“Will you please tell me about it?” murmuring against your lips, Bob wanted to see if your story could jog his memory of the first time he apparently ate you out.
He felt your lips quirk into a smile, before you broke away, nuzzling your face into his neck, where you placed soft, wet kisses that had his breath hitching, a small, soft moan leaving his lips as yours latched on to suck softly at his pulse point.
“Well… I asked you…”
It was late, the party had ended almost an hour ago, and you and Bob were lounging around in your childhood bedroom, walls covered in a soft pink - and your forgotten stuffed animals placed on bookshelves that were filled to the brim with books you’d read in your early teens. You’d told your mom several times you wanted to get rid of them, but she insisted that your younger sister might want them now that you were 18.
Bob was sprawled on the floor, chuckling softly at something he read in a women’s magazine you’d bought last week.
“What’s so funny, Robby?” you spoke softly from your bed, having laid down on the plush blankets and covers that were bunched in the middle of it. You’d stayed sober this night, wanting to make sure Robert made it home safe.
“They’re… dead wrong about some of these like ‘tricks to tell your boyfriend to do in bed’ stuff,” Robby replied, amused, twinkling eyes finding yours as you looked at him quizzically. “Oh yeah, think you know better than the women who wrote the article, Floyd?”
“Mm, I know I do. These women can’t have gotten good head if their best tip is to ‘tell him to spell the alphabet with his tongue’,” he scoffed before closing the magazine with a shrug. Licking your lips, you took in his lanky form spread out on your carpet, tight, black jeans sitting low on his hips - just giving you a peak of the grey boxers underneath.
“What do you think, huh, Sunny? Is that the best tip you’d give a lover?” he was smirking now as he looked up at you. Biting your lower lip, you shrugged “I don’t know…”
“Well, what’s felt the best when someone’s gone down on you then?” you were sure Rob could tell that heat had rushed to your cheeks and neck, warming your body as you avoided his gaze.
“I– no one’s ever made me cum with their mouth. They just wanna– get to the other stuff, y’know?” you hedged, finally looking at his blue eyes. His brows were furrowed, almost completely disappearing behind his horn rimmed glasses. “What do you mean?” his words were only a little slurred now, and he seemed more alert than he had been all night.
“I mean, most guys I’ve been with have been reluctant to you know… go down! They stay there for a little while and then sort of– deem you ‘ready’ for the important part, I guess,” you shrugged, as if this was universally known. Your girlfriends had all agreed with you, most of their boyfriends would only use their hands, or if they had to they’d be down there for a couple of minutes before wanting to get their dicks wet instead.
“That’s fucking insane!” Robby exclaimed, and you shushed him swiftly, not wanting him to wake your mother and father. “That’s fucking insane!” he stage whispered, making you giggle, as he made his way over to your bed, sitting down on the end of it. His palm wrapped around one of your ankles, slowly letting his thumb rub circles at the exposed skin there.
“Sunny… do you mean to tell me, you’ve never been given oral until you’ve cum?” Robert wouldn’t let you look away, and maybe you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to, his blue eyes were so captivating… so beautiful. Shaking your head, you looked up from beneath your lashes at him.
“Do you want to?” Robby murmured, and you found yourself nodding before you could think twice about it. You’d always wanted Robby, always needed him. Craved his touch. And now he was offering it to you. “Sunny, you let me know what feels good, okay? I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s genuine sounds of pleasure, okay?” Rob’s voice was breathless as he leaned in to place fluttering kisses along your neck.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against your skin and you nodded as your eyelids fluttered closed, a small exhale leaving you as Bob’s frame hovered over yours after having gently laid you back against the pillows.
“Good, I’m gonna take your jeans off now, okay, sweets?” you appreciated that he was talking you through it, as if he instinctively just knew you - knew your very inner workings, even if he was a little intoxicated.
“Doin’ so good for me, Sunny… so pretty,” he sighed as he took in the cute pattern of your lacy thong. You’d only recently started wearing them, and found yourself happy that you chose baby blue ones - ones that when Rob gazed at them made you want to clench your thighs together at the groan he let out at the sight.
“No, baby - open for me, that’s it - gotta keep your legs spread for me, pretty girl,” the blond hummed before settling between your legs, your panties still in place, which confused you a little. “Relax, honey,” he murmured as he kissed your inner thigh, his strong hands gently massaging your thighs. His lips explored the soft skin of your inner thighs, making you squirm each time his hot breath came closer to your core.
There was an ache there now, and ache you had never felt with any previous partner. An ache so deep, so strong, that an involuntary whimper left you as you tried to grind down, desperately needing your best friend to touch you.
“Baby… Sunny, you’re soaked for me… made these pretty light blue panties a nice navy, hm?” Bob groaned, pressing his nose against your clothed pussy, inhaling before placing soft kisses on your mound and gently against your covered clit, eliciting a soft mewl from you.
“Smell fuckin’ heavenly, babe - probably taste even better,” Bob groaned, and as you looked down, you could see him shuffling his body around, one of his legs now tucked a little higher than the one that was stretched out below him.
“Still feelin’ okay up there, honey?” he murmured, looking up at you. Licking your lips you could only manage a pathetic ‘uh-huh’ in confirmation as Bob’s fingers pushed beneath your panties to drag up and down your wet slit.
“Robby!” a breathless whine tore from you as the pads of his fingers gently pressed against your clit, before slowly dragging down to your opening and back again.
“Fuck, you’re so wet… god,” Bob groaned, bucking his hips into the mattress once before he pushed the baby blue fabric of your underwear to the side to push his face closer to your cunt. His nose nudged at your lips, and you gasped as he let his pointed tongue tease the seam of your lips, his low moan at tasting you making your own hips buck slightly.
“Robby, please - oh!” you hadn’t finished your sentence before Rob licked a broad stripe from your core to your clit, where he gently laved his tongue over it, over and over again. Breathing hard, small, pathetic noises left you, your hands clutching at the covers beneath them - before you let one hand tangle itself in Bob’s blond tresses, tugging in time with his licks and suckles on your clit.
The hand that wasn’t holding your hips down sought yours out, and as Bob blindly found your hand, he intertwined your fingers for him to hold as he experimentally swirled his tongue around your entrance. He glanced up at you briefly, and seeing you panting and letting out soft mewls for him, he decided to try to let his tongue fuck into your wet hole. He’d seen in the various videos he’d studied that it drove some of the women wild, whilst some preferred getting only their clit stimulated.
As Bob fucked his tongue into your opening, you saw stars, a delirious and loud moan leaving you as your upper body shot up slightly - tugging harshly on his hair before biting your lips to keep quiet. As the muscle slipped in and out of you, shallowly at first and then deeper and more frantically the more Bob could tell you liked it, you noticed the bed was rocking slightly. Looking down, you could see Robby grinding his hips hard into your mattress, his own moans soaked up by your dripping cunt.
“Fuck, never want to leave… this fucking beautiful pussy,” Robby was whining, licking, laving, sucking on your clit before fucking his tongue into your hole again, making you moan, gasp and whimper beneath him.
“Rob, baby, fuck - I– I’m so fucking close, feels so good– you feel so good!” you were gasping for air as Rob slurped and sucked at your cunt, seemingly lost in his own pleasure as well, rutting his hips hard and fast against your covers.
“Fuck, please give it to me Sunny, give it all to me - fuck, wanna have you on my tongue…” Robert murmured laving his tongue over your clit, suckling it gently into his mouth before fucking his tongue into you repeatedly.
With a cry and a harsh tug on your best friends hair, you came undone in the most earth-shattering way - never in your eighteen years had you felt like this, had never felt so safe and taken care of as you did with your best friends face pressed deep in between your legs, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing he was doing on this earth.
A long, drawn out moan could be heard as Bob continued to lick you through your orgasm, seemingly reaching his own high at the same time you did as his hips stuttered and jerked against the mattress.
“How was that, honey?” Bob murmured as he kissed and licked your inner thighs clean, languidly letting his tongue roam over your core, seemingly not having gotten enough of you. A soft whine fell from your lips as you squirmed a little, feeling sensitive after having cum so hard. Rob chuckled softly before placing a kiss to your pussy, and resting his head against one of your thighs, his hand still held yours as he removed his glasses, placing them beside the two of you. He had his eyes closed, positioning your legs comfortably around his form, his other hand splaying on your lower abdomen under your shirt.
As his breathing evened out, so did yours. You stayed that way most of the night, before you woke up as the sun rose to illuminate your room, and you moved to close the drapes and go to the bathroom, to wash away the traces of Bob’s love.
“Oh god…” Bob groaned as you finished telling the story. Smiling, you placed a soft kiss on his lips “It’s still the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you confessed with a shrug, as your best friend wrapped his arms tighter around you with a groan.
“Fuck, don’t tell me that Sunny… you’re drivin’ me wild… y’mean to tell me I’ve known my whole life what you taste like? What those soft little sighs, moans and whimpers sound like? The ones I’ve dreamt off as I’ve laid in my damn bunk missing you?” you could only laugh softly under your breath “M’afraid so, honey,” you stroked the back of your hand against his cheek.
“Would I ever be allowed that privilege again, baby?” Bob purred against your ear, nibbling softly at the lobe before placing a chaste kiss just beneath it.
“Oh, I definitely think that can be arranged…” you smirked, gently taking your bottom lip between your teeth as Bob again rolled the two of you so you were on top of him.
“Excellent, darlin’... but this time, I want you on top…”
#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#my writing#smut
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Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd
Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops
A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘
Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.
You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.
The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.
From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend.
To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps.
He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.
You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.
She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.
The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.
Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.
W-why was Bob in your villa?
Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.
“What are you doing in here?”
What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”
Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.
“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you.
Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix.
You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”
“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always.
You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.
Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”
God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”
Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.
“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.
You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.
“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”
You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”
“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”
Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?
And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.
Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.
Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation.
Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.
“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”
You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?
Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”
You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”
Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”
Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”
“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.
“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”
You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.
And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher.
“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”
“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.
You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.
And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.
Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?
And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”
It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar.
Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.
There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.
Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.
“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men.
You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”
She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”
You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.
By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.
You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.
In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.
Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin.
This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.
You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest.
He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.
When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.
Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.
While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.
And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.
His eyes were so blue without his glasses…
Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.
The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after.
The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out.
You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor.
Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along.
You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.
Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.
“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.
The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock.
Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.
While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly.
“What are you pretending to do?”
His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”
Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck.
“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”
While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.
You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited.
His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.
When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers.
You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”
“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.
The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.
He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.
“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.
Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.
The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.
Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.
It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.
When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.
A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.
You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”
“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”
He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.
“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”
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the ties that bind | bob floyd
description: in which your lover unravels you completely
warnings: 18+ only, bondage, orgasm denial, vibrators, daddy kink, light pussy slapping, some begging, spitting, aftercare
pairing: bob floyd x afab!reader
Robert Floyd was ruthless.
No one expected that of him just by looking at him. He was a quiet, passive person. He preferred to blend in, to watch from afar. No one expected him to have a mean bone in his body. And, really, he was sweet as pie. The greatest lover you’d ever known.
But, unbeknownst to all the friends who claimed he was “passive” and “timid”, he was also wicked, and he quite enjoyed having you entirely at his mercy, willing to do whatever he asked of you. And that was precisely the position you found yourself in at that very moment.
Bound to his bed, unable to escape, skin buzzing hot with anticipation, wondering what he was going to do to you next, and thinking that maybe, just maybe, you had bitten off more than you could chew when you had agreed to do this.
In the beginning, it had sounded like such fun. Wicked, sinful fun. You had been the one to bring it up, after all. You'd gone to your lover and proposed the idea. And he, ever the sinner, had eagerly agreed. The decision was mutual, and when he had asked you if he could do anything he desired to you, within reason and boundary, you had told him yes.
But now here you were, naked, writhing, trembling. He was above you, a devious smile on his sweet, handsome face. And at that moment, with his pale blue eyes burning right into your own, you were beginning to slightly regret even suggesting this whole thing. He was punishing you in the most wonderfully painful way imaginable, and you weren't sure how much longer you could handle it.
He had you stretched out across the mattress, arms tied to the headboard, legs bound and held apart so he could easily access the very center of you. Your skin was slick with sweat, eyes squeezed shut as you put every ounce of energy you had into holding on to what little control over yourself you had left.
You could feel that all too familiar burn in your lower abdomen, threatening to engulf you in searing pleasure. But you couldn't let go, not yet. You just had to hold out a little while longer, and you would finally get your reward. But goddammit, it was hard.
Maybe it would be a little easier if you could make noise, let out your frustration through cries and moans. But you weren't allowed to make a sound, though, per his rules. If you so much as let out a whimper, you would be denied your orgasm and endure whatever punishment he deemed fit.
When he'd told you this, you had underestimated just how hard it would be. Sure, I can be quiet, you thought. Now, you were wishing you had never let him make the rule, because all you wanted to do was scream at the top of your lungs.
You'd lost track of time. Had it been minutes? Hours? He'd had that damned vibrator against your cunt for ages, on high, a setting you rarely used together because it was so intense. But he was feeling ruthless today, and was quite enjoying the sight of you squirming uncomfortably, pulling at your restraints. You looked up at him with wide eyes, silently begging him to offer some relief from the intense vibration, but he refused to oblige.
Bob knew your body well, had you memorized like the back of his hand. He knew how you moved when you were about to tip over the edge, knew the look on your face, the tense in your muscles. And whenever he saw those telltale signs, he pulled the vibrator away promptly, leaving you to buck your hips into the air and bite your lip hard in bitter frustration.
He was enjoying this, really. He'd never seen you so desperate before, he had to admit. It had his head spinning, body warm with desire. All he wanted was to be inside you, feel your slick warmth envelop him. But he was exercising every ounce of self-control he possessed. He would be inside you all in due time. Right now, his priority was getting you to the edge again, give you just the slightest taste of release before pulling away just when your body was nearly at its peak.
He watched you bite the inside of your cheek, surely hard enough to draw blood. You were trying your best to respect his wishes, to follow his command. And for that, he loved you. You were his good little plaything, and he made a mental note to reward you tenfold after he was finished with you. You were handling this all better than he thought you would.
He ran his free hand down your bare stomach, leaning down to press a kiss to your glistening forehead. "Mm, you're doing so well, sweet baby. Hold on just a little longer and Daddy will let you come."
I have been holding on! You wanted to shout at him. But you bit your tongue - literally. If you yelled, it would surely earn you a bruised bottom and a denied orgasm. You could feel it, though. Searing through you like molten lava, threatening to burn you alive. Your chest began to heave, and as Bob looked at you, he saw the slightly panicked expression on your face.
Instantly, he turned off the vibrator, partly because he couldn't handle waiting any longer, and partly because he knew you were nearing the end of your rope, and he didn’t want to push you there quite yet. He set the handheld wand aside, reaching up to gently stroke the side of your face, praising you yet again. "You're being so good for me."
You nuzzled your warm face against his large palm before his touch was gone, leaving only a soft rush of air in its wake. The sound of him unzipping his pants had your cunt clenching around nothing, knowing that in a few short moments, you would be filled to the brim.
When he came back into view, he was completely bare, and you watched through hazy eyes as he reached down, lazily tugging that thick, heavy cock before he situated himself between your spread, trembling legs. In that moment, he wanted to tell you to beg for it, as he often did. But he wanted to see just how long you could stay silent.
Leaning down, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, tongue ever so slowly sliding over your bottom lip. Then he went lower, hungry mouth suckling at your soft breasts. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin and you huffed, bucking your hips up in search of him. He held you down with his hand against your pelvis. “Uh-uh, be patient,” he scolded.
Deft fingers danced along the front of your body before he caressed your spasming pussy, so swollen and hot to the touch. “Poor lil thing. Need me so bad, don’t ya?” He hummed with mock sympathy. You looked up at him with wide eyes, frantically nodding.
“Guess I’ll give the baby what it wants.” Then, he guided his cock toward the place where you needed him most, and he began to nudge into you.
At the initial stretch, you let out a gasp, trying so hard not to whimper. How on earth were you meant to stay silent when that gorgeous cock of his was currently beginning to split you right open? Your own arousal provided more than enough lubricant for him. "Look at you," he murmured, "soaked and ready for my cock."
You pulled at your restraints again, leaning up, hoping he'd kiss you again. But he ignored your silent plea, placing his hands on either side of your arms, holding himself up as he began to slowly thrust into you.
He couldn't help but groan deeply at the feeling of you, so snug and warm around him. He knew it wouldn't take long for him to reach his end, and he was glad that he'd edged you so much, because that meant you'd finish right along with him.
He brought his mouth down to your breasts again, sucking and biting as he picked up his pace, fucking into you more deliberately. Beneath him, you were trying desperately to keep your mouth shut, to remain silent as he carried on. But he was making it damn near impossible. He felt so good, filling you deliciously, each ridge and vein brushing against every last inch of you.
You closed your eyes, the sensations bubbling up within you growing too intense, enough to draw tears. They began sliding down the sides of your face and into your hairline, hot and wet. You moved in tandem with him, rolling your hips, wanting and needing more. You were getting close, simply from the stimulation of his pubic bone against your swollen clit, the gathering of sandy curls around the base of his cock only heightening those sensations with each brush against you.
If you stayed quiet just a little longer, you knew that he would let you come soon enough. In the beginning, he'd told you that you would only be allowed to come while he was inside you, and now, your sweet release was so close you could almost taste it on your tongue.
Bob was growing a little rougher, a little faster, a little deeper. He was making noise freely, groaning and growling, filthy words swimming through your head, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were, how you were made to take his cock. You wanted to scream, cry, wail. It was becoming so overwhelming that you weren't sure how much longer you could hold out. You were biting your cheek so hard you could taste copper in your mouth.
Then he was all but pounding into you, hard and fast and unforgiving, and you couldn't hold it in anymore. A scream bubbled up in your throat, and you let it free, filling the room with the shrill sound. That's when your lover stopped, going still as could be. When you opened your eyes, he was looking right at you. And that ocean blue you loved so much? It had gone nearly black.
He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to keep eye contact. "What was that?"
"I-I-I'm sorry Daddy!" You began to sob, body undulating beneath him. "I c-couldn't help it!"
"That's not good enough." He pulled out of you, immediately climbing off of the bed.
"No, wait!" You gasped, "Daddy, please, I'm sorry, it just slipped out, I-"
But then, his hand was clamped over your mouth, eyes staring down at you so intensely you thought you would burst into flames right then and there.
"Shut your mouth, you brat," he snapped. "You are going to lay here, completely silent, until I come back. Do you understand me?"
You nodded, and he lifted his hand from your mouth. Tears were still streaming down your face, due to frustration, anger (mostly at yourself), and desperation. You sniffled, coughing and sputtering as you watched Bob stop to pull his sweatpants on. He only turned back to you to speak once more. “What word do you say if you need me to come back and untie you?” His face had gone gentle.
“Palomino,” you breathlessly replied.
“Atta girl.” He left a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead. When he straightened, he was back to that strict persona. "You're staying like this until I come back into the room."
And then he was gone, leaving you stretched out and humiliated on the bed. It took you a long while to calm down, for the tears to stop and for your breathing to return to normal.
Meanwhile, Bob had made his way into the kitchen. Dinner time was approaching, and he wanted to have a meal prepared for when he was finished with you, because he knew your energy would be depleted, and that you would be starving.
He also knew this was torture for you, laying there, suspended and unable to do a single thing about it. He could only imagine how pliant you would be once he returned, willing to do absolutely anything he asked of you, just so you could get a release. And if he was being honest, that was what he wanted, because he, too, needed a release. He was still achingly hard within the confines of his pants, and he knew it wouldn't go away so easily.
To distract himself, he put on some music - classical, Tchaikovsky's 4th - and then proceeded to gather the ingredients he'd need. Pasta, of course. Something hearty and comforting, because he knew you'd need it after all the exertion he'd put you through.
He let himself slip into the process of preparing the meal. Cooking had always been therapeutic for him. Especially cooking for his lover. He put his whole heart into the meals he made, and you always swore you could taste the love in each bite.
In the bedroom, you could hear everything. The music, the clang of pots and pans. You could smell garlic cooking, and you knew he would take his sweet time preparing everything, just to further punish you. Damn him, the bastard.
Your shoulders were becoming quite sore from your predicament, and so were your legs. It was rather uncomfortable. It always was, but normally, Bob removed the ropes from you the moment he was finished. But not tonight, because he was far from finished with you.
It felt like hours had passed, even though it couldn’t have been more than twenty-five minutes. You were growing restless. So, in order to occupy yourself, you closed your eyes, attempting to create an elaborate story in your head. It did little to distract you fully, but it did help some. So you continued on. Eyes closed. Waiting, waiting, waiting.
And there was Bob, entirely at ease and unbothered in the kitchen, draining the pasta and moving over to stir the sauce. He tasted it, deciding it needed a little more basil leaf before pausing to chop one and tossing it into the deep red liquid. He knew you’d love the sauce, he’d outdone himself this time with it.
But you were not thinking about food. You were thinking about him. And you were beginning to grow angry at that point. Your patience was wearing thin. You knew this was what you deserved for disobeying his one rule, no sounds, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You just wanted him to come back and untie you. You thought about shouting for him, maybe eve safewording, but decided against it. You were nowhere near needing to use that word just yet. Bob’s intention was never to push you to have to use it, either. The word was merely there as a safeguard, and you didn’t find it necessary to use at the moment.
So, you remained silent, just as you'd been doing for the past thirty minutes. And finally, after what felt like eternity, you could hear his footsteps coming down the hall. An odd mix of both relief and anxiety swirled through you at once. Relief because you knew he would soon release you, and anxiety because you had no idea what was coming after.
A glass of water was perched in his hand, and a smirk was spread across his handsome face. "Look at my pretty little angel," he murmured, strolling towards the bed. "Still spread out for me, just the way I left you."
The clink of the glass being set on the nightstand reached your ears, but you didn't dare take your eyes off him to look at it. Bob's hand came to rest against your cheek, before traveling downwards, skimming over your breasts, stomach, and finally landing between your legs. Those beautiful fingers slid along your wetness, and you shifted your hips, only to be shocked entirely by a light slap to your pussy.
Even so, Bob had mercy on you. He'd punished you long enough, it was time to reward you. So, he reached up, taking the liberty to untie the bonds on your wrists. When your arms fell, you let out an audible sigh of relief, slowly lengthening your arms beside you as Bob moved to untie your legs. His fingers massaged over the marks the rope had left indented on your skin, and he moved down to press a kiss to each one.
For a moment, his eyes softened as he gazed at you. "You okay?"
You mustered a weak, but genuine, smile, and nodded. “I’m fine.”
Satisfied with that, Bob set the jute rope aside, and climbed onto the bed. He hovered over you, seamlessly moving to leave a deep kiss against your lips. His warm hands cupped your face, and he broke the kiss to look at you. "You can make noise this time around," he granted, and yet another flood of relief washed over you.
Bob made quick work of removing his pants then, tossing them to the floor below before settling between your legs yet again. You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt his heavy cock pressing against your soft, wet center again. His voice, sweet and low, floated through your head then.
"Beg for it, m’love."
With what little energy you had left, you spoke, voice wavering. "P-please...I need to come so bad, it hurts. Please let me come, Daddy. I’ll do anything."
If he was feeling spiteful, he would have demanded more from you. But in that moment, he needed his release as much as you did. So he took your plea with satisfaction, kissing you yet again as he slipped into you for the second time that night. The feeling made you whine, and you grabbed at his shoulders for purchase.
His movements were slow at first, gradually building. He covered you with his entire body, engulfing you in the safety of his big arms as he fucked you. He soon had you trembling, gasping, moaning. The ability to let out sounds felt so wonderful, and you were sure to let out plenty.
You were so painfully close. A full hour of stimulation still had you sensitive, even thirty minutes later. When Bob brought his hand down to the place where your bodies met, fingers pressing into your nub of nerves, you were keening beneath him, tears springing to your eyes all over again.
"Oh," Bob breathlessly sighed, "I can feel you tightenin' around me. You gonna come for me, sweet baby?"
"Y-yes," you squeaked, pathetically so.
So, Bob went a little faster, a little harder. And soon, he was fucking you right into the mattress, hitting all those wonderful spots inside of you at a steady pace, sending shocks of delicious pleasure surging through you, like electricity through a live wire.
He grunted and growled above you, trying his hardest to stave off his own orgasm. You were going to come before him, he was determined to make it happen. You’d been so good for him and you deserved it.
He was slamming into you at that point, the sound of skin on skin growing almost deafening. You cried out, clutching him hard enough to leave bruises. With your mouth parted, he couldn’t help but lean down to capture your lips with his own again.
"Come on," he gritted out, "I know you want to come for Daddy. Do it, come all over my cock."
You could only moan and whimper, writhing and thrashing against the mattress. Bob had a look of determination twisted into his features, a curl of sandy hair falling against his sweaty forehead. He wasn't going to let up until you were completely overwhelmed.
He grasped your face in his hand then, staring you down. You were trembling something awful at that point, sweaty, exhausted, nearly there. He placed his mouth against yours, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing. "Open your mouth," he hissed.
Obediently, you did so, and as your lips parted, Bob didn't miss a single beat, spitting into your open mouth before pushing it shut promptly after. "Swallow." Yet again, you obediently did so, always willing to do what he asked. The whole eroticism of it all was what pushed you over the edge, and with a desperate howl, you plummeted over that precipice, shaking violently beneath your lover.
Bubbly warmth engulfed you from head to toe, rushing through you in a surge so powerful you swore you blacked out. All you felt was utter euphoria, blanketing you like an intensely warm hug.
Above you, he watched it all unfold. He leaned back so he could watch the way your pussy clamped tightly around him, pulsing and contracting, milking him. As your body began to flutter down from the mind-numbing high, he soon reached his own.
With a low, open-mouthed moan, he fell apart, hips sporadically jolting into you as his spend seeped into you, claiming you as his own. If you weren’t so out of it you might’ve been able to admire that gorgeous face contorted in painful pleasure.
Soon enough, he fell against you, sweaty, spent, a complete mess. You held onto him, trying to calm down, though you were still trembling. "So good for me,” Bob sighed, “such a sweet pussy.”
He slowly and reluctantly moved to pull out of you, shushing your whine of protest. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, glancing down to watch the pearly white essence that had begun to drip out of your pulsing cunt. Then he gazed back up at you, brushing away strands of hair that stuck to your forehead from the sweat. "How’s my baby?"
The initial intensity of it all had worn off, and you were now left feeling sore and utterly drained. "I'm...I'm tired," you whispered, unable to utilize your energy to say anything else.
“Yeah? Is it okay if I move you? I wanna clean you up a bit.”
“Y-yeah.”
Ever so gently, he helped you climb out of bed, and he guided you into the bathroom, letting you lean on him when your legs threatened to give out.
He had you sit on the counter and spread your legs, where he carefully used a soft, damp cloth to wipe your center clean. He soothed you when you whimpered from the sensitivity. “I know. I’ll be quick,” he assured you.
He used another cool rag to carefully wipe your sweaty face. “Think you can handle a bath right now? Or is that too much?”
You considered this for a moment, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. “Too tired. Jus’ want to be wiped down.”
That was all he needed. He lovingly kissed your lips before he helped you climb down from the counter. After a quick full body wipe down, he then led you back into the bedroom, where he helped you change into one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. He dressed in his own pair of sweatpants once he had you settled.
Then, as you sat on the edge of the bed, he reached over to the nightstand to grab a bottle of water. He cracked open the lid and held the bottle up to your mouth for you to drink. It was cool, and did wonders to soothe your parched throat.
“You feelin’ up to eating anything? I made your favorite pasta,” he calmly suggested. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled eagerly.
You shared a look, and you giggled at each other. “Guess I’m hungry,” you said.
Bob nuzzled his nose against yours before he helped you stand, wrapping a strong arm around you. He took you down to the kitchen and guided you into a chair. However, it didn’t last long, because as soon as he sat down, you were climbing into his lap, craving physical contact.
“Wan’ me to feed you too?” He teased.
“Actually…I wouldn’t mind that,” you whispered in reply.
He kissed your temple. “Anything for my baby.”
Then your sweet Bobby began to feed you your dinner, purely out of love for you. It made your heart sing and tears of appreciation well in your eyes. You kissed his neck and thanked him. He told you he was happy to do it.
Once dinner was finished, Bob had an important question to ask you. "What do you want to do, sweet baby?" He asked. This was how it always was. After you allowed him the privilege of using your body, he always allowed you to choose how you wanted to be cared for.
"I wanna cuddle and watch something," you replied, to which he nodded.
"Coming right up," he said, yet again lifting you up. He left the dinner dishes, deciding he'd do them tomorrow. For now, his sole focus was taking care of you. You ended up in the bathroom again, where he placed you to stand on the floor. He kissed your forehead before pulling your toothbrush from the cup on the sink and squeezing toothpaste onto it.
Gently grabbing your face, he said, "Open."
You did so, and he placed the brush in your mouth, beginning the project of brushing your teeth for you. The gesture made you feel so deeply cared for. “There ya go. Go ahead and spit,” he finally instructed once he was certain he’d done a thorough job.
After the toothbrush and toothpaste were put away, it was time for bed. He helped you under the covers, and you curled up against the mattress as as you watched Bob search for a movie in your expansive DVD collection. Finally, he decided on something with Fred Astaire, one of his favorites, and popped it into the player before climbing into bed alongside you.
You curled up against his side, letting him engulf you in comfort and softness. Such a stark contrast to the rough, dominant man who'd just ruined you. You smiled to yourself, knowing just how much you loved him, and how much you always would.
"You were so good for me today," he praised, just as the opening credits of the movie began to roll, "how did I get so lucky?"
You shook your head, nuzzling against his neck. “I should be asking myself the same thing. I love you so much, Bobby. Take such good care of me"
"And I love you, sweet baby. Forever and always."
-
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"Swallow it. All of it." & “Suck on it” with Bobby maybe? 👀 unless…
You better be over 18 if you read below the cut, yeah?
From this list here
"Baby, please."
You smirked down at your boyfriend with an amused look. He was usually so calm and collected, shy maybe, but so unlike the needy mess you currently had him in. You hadn't even really touched him yet.
Bob's head was thrown back against the pillows, sweat forming on his brow as you slowly stroked him, avoiding the angry red tip with every swipe up his hard length. His hips thrust up with every pass, desperately seeking more friction from you as he let out a high pitched whine.
"What is it, baby boy?" You cooed down at him, running your other hand up his chest as you gave a gentle squeeze to his tip. He let out a strangled groan, tossing his head to the side as he gazed up at you through lidded eyes, mouth parted and swollen from your earlier kisses. "Use your words, Bobby. I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me."
Bob let out another wanton gasp as you stroked over his tip once more, hips raising off the bed to try and chase your hand. You frowned down at him, nails raking down his chest in a warning.
"Suck on it," he whimpered, eyes pleading with you as you began to stroke him a little harder. "Please, honey. Please."
You hummed, letting go of him. He whined out, reaching out a hand to you, but you smiled up at him softly as you eased your way down in between his thighs. You took his length back in your hand, continuing your slow torture of him as you gazed up at him through your lashes.
"I think you can do better than that, Bobby," you murmured. "You're so hard, baby, it must really hurt. Want you to beg for me, sweet boy. Tell me how much you want to cum."
"Wanna cum so fucking bad, baby," he gasped, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he stared down at you. "I'm so hard baby, please. Don't wanna cum in your hand. Want you to make me feel so good with that sweet little mouth of yours, please."
"Well," you smirked. "Since you asked so nicely."
You placed a soft kiss to the tip of his cock before slowly taking it into your mouth. Bob let out a strangled moan above you, hands flying down to fist in your hair as you started bobbing up and down on his length. With each pass, you were able to take more of him down your throat, and soon your nose was brushing up against the curls that surrounded his base. You lifted one of your hands from his thigh to massage his balls, earning a broken cry from the man before you.
"I'm not gonna last long, sweetheart," he moaned breathlessly, hips starting to thrust up as you gagged on his length. You loved when Bob got like this. So debauched and needy that he lost control and the usual shyness that surrounded him was long forgotten. You gagged around him as he gave a particularly hard thrust into your mouth, earning another loud groan from him.
"Fuck, baby! I'm not gonna last long. Love how hot and wet you feel around me. Feels like you're sucking the soul right out of me."
You smirked around him, giving a particularly hard suck that had his thighs quivering beneath you.
"FUCK!" He shouted, throwing his head back against the pillows before leaning up to look down at where his cock disappeared down your throat. He could see the slight bulge where his length ended as you continued to gulp him down like he was the air you needed to breath.
"Bet you're so fucking wet, huh, honey?" He groaned, thrusts getting harder the closer he got. "Haven't even touched you and I bet you're already dripping, yeah? I know how needy you get when you're chokin' on my cock like this. Know you could come just from this. Fuck, it feels so good. You feel so fucking good with your lips wrapped around me, honey."
You could feel yourself growing wetter at his words. You knew you had to be dripping by this point, but you were so focused on his pleasure that you paid little mind to your own. Bob's breaths were coming out in a combination of heady groans and desperate gasps as he chased his high.
"Oh fuck, I'm close. I can feel it, baby. It's comin', and it's all gonna be for you. Can feel your throat gripping me so tight, so fucking tight - JESUS. Oh shit, yes. Keep sucking me just like that, baby. JUST. LIKE. THAT. SHIT."
You felt him twitch, and red hot spurts of cum shot down your throat. You eagerly swallowed them down, and Bob's hands stroked through your hair as he came down from his high.
"That's it, baby," he cooed breathlessly, stroking his thumb over your cheek to collect the tears that had escaped the corners of your eyes as you continued to work your mouth up and down his length. "Swallow it. All of it. That's my good girl."
You continued to suckle on him as the last remnants of his orgasm washed over him, his hips twitching from the slight overstimulation as you made sure to swallow every last drop.
Slowly, you pulled up off of him with a quiet pop. Bob's thumb reached down to brush the corner of your lip, wiping away some of the spend that had leaked from your mouth. He offered it to you, and you latched onto it obediently, twirling your tongue around the digit as you suckled. Bob let out a shuddering breath as he pulled his thumb back. He reached down to pull you up, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. He licked languidly into your mouth, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.
You pulled away, smiling hazily at him. He returned your smile, resting his forehead against yours as he chuckled.
"How's about you lay back and I return the favor. What do you say, pretty girl?"
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Roses // BF x JS x Reader
Summary: Robert Floyd can’t seem to find it in himself to hurt you the way you crave, the way you truly desire. Confiding in his more experienced, more outgoing & confidence wingman is something he’s always done. This time when Bob asks Jake Hangman Seresin for advice, he gets a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.
Warning: Bob Floyd x F!reader Jake Seresin x F!reader. Smut. MMF Threesome. Cuckold Bob? Power imbalance. Male receiving oral. Female receiving oral.
Word Count: 6.6k
Author Note: Happy Saturday Folks, please enjoy this porn without plot one shot of two of our favourite flyboys:
"Fuck—“ The delightlful sound of Bob’s near pronographic moans were something you would never get tired of hearing. The way his hands fell softly onto your hips to help you ride his throbbing length was a touch as gentle as an angels. Bob always felt good, oh so good—He was truly blessed. From the sting that always made your heart stop whenever he’d first slip in, to the way his tip would nuzzle against your sponge like cervix, to the way his shaft would throb against your velvet walls with every pleasure filled thrust.
“Baby—“ The term of endearment escaped your mouth with a sigh as you dragged one of his hands up your body, softly wrapping one of Bob's slightly calloused hand around your own neck and squeezing it for him. Bob couldn't contain the whimper he let out as you eyes hooded at the sight as his mouth remained open, a drawn out groan of absolute pleasure rumbled from deep inside his chest.
“Please, make me cum baby please.” You begged as you threw your head back and whimpered to the heavens above. Your other hand dipped down to swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves as you picked up the speed, the gentle slapping of Bob’s balls hitting the curve of your ass echoed through the bedroom the two of you shared more often than not. Robert Floyds humble abode was closer to the Hard Deck, his favorite watering hole and your place of employment.
The second you let go of Bob’s hand that you’d placed around your throat, Bob dropped it as fast as he could, he let it fall to the soft curve of your hip after stopping shortly to touch the hardened bud of your sensitive nipple. Bob’s baby blue eyes trained hard on your tits as you bounced and rolled your hips above him. A goddess amongst mere mortal men.
“Ahhh—Bob, baby m’cumming! Oh fuck m’cumming I’m cumming—ooohhh—“ Your nails, long and manicured scratched at Bob’s chest as you came hard around his length, leaving red raw claw marks in their wake as you clenched around Bob’s shaft. Your pussy throbbed as you saw stars and black dots behind your eyes. Your thighs trembled on either side of Bob as he thrust his cock deeper inside you, chasing his own high after making sure you were well looked after. Forever the gentleman was Lieutenant Robert Floyd.
“Shit—shit Y/n, baby quick, I'm gonna cum—“ Bob groaned as you rolled off from straddling your broad boyfriend's hips to laying on your back with a wicked giggle. You bit your bottom lip to help hold back to lustful and ever so sinful chuckle that threatened to escape from the inner part of your soul as Bob mounted your chest—one leg thrown over you as he pumped his cock right over in face. “Ahhhh—“ He sighed as he unloaded his hot spurts of cum over your fucked out face, watching it cover you from your forehead to your chin, your tongue did its best to chase whatever he gave you.
Bob didn’t stay on top of you for very long, even if you adored the feeling of the weight of his body on top of you. It was as if he was unsure if he was hurting you—that would be Bob’s biggest fear. He settled back down onto his back with a sigh as he watched you quickly sauntered over into the en-suite. The sound of the shower turning on quickly filled the silence that lingered after you disappeared from his sight.
“Can I join?” He mumbled as he got off the bed, padding towards the bathroom to see you washing your face under the warm stream of the shower head. Suds from your face wash worked to wash away the load Bob had just plastered your face with. It mixed in with the notes of mint and cooling cucumber.
“I think you can squeeze in.” You jokingly replied as Bob stepped under the stream of warm water, watching as you washed away the suds to reveal your freshly cleaned face. He wrapped his arms around you tight before he dipped his head to connect his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. Bob hummed against your supple lips when he felt your hands dip to his ass.
“You been working out?” Bob had recently started hitting the gym a little more frequently with Hangman and Rooster. He was a cardio guy, but in the past few weeks he'd managed to bulk up just a little. Put on a few pounds that made you insanely feral. Bob Flyod looked good a couple of pounds heavier.
“You know I have.” Bob smirked, he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you against the cool tiled wall. “I’ve seen you watching from the treadmill.”
“S’good view.” You couldn't hold back the small giggled that escaped before you once again pressing your lips against his with need and want. Your tongues danced together memorising each other's mouths before Bob put you down.
“Let's get out of here—wanna taste of what dessert has to offer.”
“What does that mean?” You asked as you bit your bottom lip—Bob’s hand came down to caress your lower back as he led you back to the bed. Soaking wet. He watched you with lustful eyes as you sat down before you quickly spread your legs. With intent, Bob dropped to his knees beside the bed—his hands slowly spreading your thighs further apart. He squeezed at your supple skin, decorated nicely with stripes Bob loved to delicately and ever so gently litter with kisses.
He’s never left a mark.
“Bob—“ You breathed out heavily as Bob licked a gentle strip up your fucked out pussy, so sweet and slick. His eyes never left yours as he lapped away at the sensitive bundle of nerves you loved to play with so much. Your clit was your favourite body part. Its only purpose in your life was to bring you pleasure and pleasure you craved. “Bob—“
“You okay?” Bob stopped momentarily to ask, watching as you dropped from your elbows to your back. In the middle of pure ecstasy your hands shot up to grip the strands of light brown hair that had grown out exponentially since you’d first started dating.
“Yes yes! Just keep going—feels so fucking good.” You sighed as you rolled your hips. Feeling Bob's tongue against you yet again making you moan softly. “Don’t stop, Fuckk-“ Bob did as he was told, lapping away at your soaked pussy like he was starved, high of the taste of his girlfriend. Watching as you squirmed and moved around from each flick of his tongue. Part of you wished he’d stop you— part of you wished he’d make you stay still.
But you knew better than to wish—Bob would never be as dominant as you wanted him to be. It just wasn’t in his inherent nature. It went against everything that made Bob, Bob. He was a gentle and kind soul to the very core—a wallflower.
Settling into Bob’s side a little later on, you were now dressed and exhausted, you sighed deeply when your head fell against Bob’s exposed chest—listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
“I love you baby.” Bob kisses the top of your head.
“I love you more.” You cooed quietly as your eyes felt heavy. Tired from a massive shift at the Hard Deck that ended the sexcapades that had just wrapped with Robert Floyd. “Hey Hon?”
“Yeah?” Bob's voice was low in his chest as he absentmindedly played with your hair. His nimble fingers felt oh so amazing against your scalp. Calming, soothing and above all relaxing.
“How come you’re so........gentle with me?”
“That suddenly a bad thing?” Bob chuckled as he ran his fingers down your arm to trace your forearm. “I just—I couldn’t imagine being the reason behind your pain you know?” It made you feel genuinely safe and cared for, but deep down something was telling you to have this conversation now. If you didn’t now, you might not ever work up the courage to again.
“What if I told you I wanted you to hurt me?”
“What do you mean?” Bob yawned, of course he was listening, but Bob was tired himself. “You want me to hurt you?”
“Well—you see, you remember how I tried to get you to choke me? But as soon as I moved my hand you let go? Well I want you to do that, harder—and maybe on your own accord.” Bob could physically feel the heat of your cheek on his chest and you could most definitely hear his heart racing.
“You want me to ch—choke you?” There was clear hesitancy laced in Bob's questioning as his hand stilled from the gentle rhythm he had fallen into tracing unidentifiable objects into your forearm.
“And like, maybe pull my hair, slap me around a little bit, like when I’m moving around when you eat me out maybe, stop me? Pin me down and just I don’t know Bob—use me?” You could tell maybe this was all a little too much for Bob, he was such a gentle soul with the biggest of hearts and the kindest of eyes. It wasn’t in his nature to want to be dominant.
“I uh—“ Bob tried to formulate a sentence to respond with, he wanted to make you happy and if this was what would make you happy he wanted to do anything you desired of him. But he couldn’t find the words. “I—“
“You know what?” You cooed as you looked up through your lashes to where your Boyfriend's head was resting against your pillows. “Don’t even worry hon—“ You placed a butterfly-like kiss against Bob's clean shaven cheek with a small smile that made his heart ache. “Forget I ever said something—I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” Bob replied with a low tone, his voice had gotten deeper as the night progressed. “Are you sure? maybe I could uh—try?”
“It’s totally fine—everything’s perfect just the way it is.” Again you tried not to make this bigger than it really was. Bob was a great guy. He was a great partner and an even better best friend. Not wanting to make the man you loved so much, that did so much for you, uncomfortable, you dismissed the subject that wasn’t all that important anyway. Why fix something that wasn’t broken? “It’s not who you are.”
Bob’s mind was plagued with the reality of your words after you’d fallen asleep in his arms in his warm and loving embrace that night. Your gentle snores filled the room as his mind wandered, ran rampant with thoughts. Maybe it wasn't who he was—
But Robert Floyd definitely knew someone that was.
***~***~***~***~***~
Bob woke up early the next morning, knowing it was his only chance to catch Jake without a chance of being interrupted. The pair had been an unlikely duo to rent a home in North Island. If you had first asked Bob what his opinion on Jake Seresin had been when they first met a few years ago he wouldn’t have had a good word to say about the overly confident aviator. Jake’s egomaniacal personality was something that seemed to curve out over the years—soon enough Jake was just Jake to the bunch of Daggers who’d settled permanently in North Island.
And before Bob really even knew what happened he’d signed a lease with Hangman and was a pretty big fan of his Texan take on Taco Tuesday.
“Mornin.” Bob grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bob was most definitely not a morning person, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. If he didn’t need to be up for work then Bob wasn’t getting up for nobody. Jake however, he had always been an early bird gets the worm kind of guy.
“Jesus!” Jake gasped as he choked on his toast, not exactly expecting the pair of you up for at least another four hours minimum. “The fuck are you doing up so early? Are you sick or something?”
“I needed a coffee.” Bob grumbled, he grabbed at the coffee cup with your face on it that said ‘Bob's Coffee Cup’ on it. A birthday present you thought was incredibly funny. “And some advice—but you can’t laugh at me Jake, I swear or else I’m never talking to you again.”
“What’s up?” Jake shut his laptop begrudgingly, already missing the home interior design inspo board on Pinterest. He and Bob were in the process of making their house a humble abode. And by him and Bob Jake meant himself. He was in the middle of redoing the older than some, sturdier than most home.
“Okay so Y/n said something last night and I don’t know what to do about it.” Bob knew he’d regret this the second the words were flying out of his mouth.
“What did she say?” Jake's face was puzzled, he hadn’t seen Bob so frazzled in a while. “Robert? what did she say?”
“She wants me to be uh—rougher? With her, and I can’t wrap my head around that concept for a second to even think about how I’d do that.” Jake frowned as he watched Bob wiz around the kitchen, collecting the necessary things for his coffee and cereal.
“I’m assuming you mean in bed because—?” Jake tried to make the situation he found himself in a little more light hearted. He was fine, really, but he could tell just by the rose colour creeping itself across Bob's neck that he was almost embarrassed.
“Yes Jake— of course she meant in bed what else would she mean?” Bob caught himself before Jake could legitimately answer that question. He saw the Cheshire- like grin creep across Jake's face before he went to speak. Bob shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Actually, don't answer that.” He sighed as he sipped his coffee, warm, milky and caffeinated just how he liked it as he walked around to sit next to Jake who sat on the other side of the kitchen bench.
“So what’s the big deal? Slap her around a bit? She wants you, right? So what's stopping you?” Jake did see the big deal in all of this. He’d been with plenty of women who liked their intimacy a little of the rougher side. It wasn't that deep, not everything had to be some coded deeper meaning bullshit. Sex could be just that–sex. Kinks could be just that, kinks.
“I physically can’t do that.” Bob groaned at himself as he doubled over and placed his forehead against the kitchen countertop. “Like she tried to get me to choke her last night and I couldn’t, I bitched out and moved my hand.” Jake stifled a laugh as he sat back and tapped his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worrying WSO.
“Bob—I can see you’re already over thinking this, look, being rough between the sheets doesn’t mean you respect or love her any less?”
“I don’t wanna hurt her though? I can’t fathom being the reason behind her pain.” Jake rolled his eyes at the overbearing sensitivity of his good friend and housemate.
“Jesus Bob it’s not that deep, you could throw her through your bedroom wall and that girl would beg for more—it’s Y/n we’re talking about right?” You and Jake Seresin had a pretty good relationship. He was actually the one who introduced you to Bob. He knew Bob had been reluctant to put his best foot forward when it came to talking to pretty girls who made killer cocktails, but when Jake saw the way you smiled at Bob like he hung all the stars in the night sky just for you—he knew he had to get his wingman moves out.
“Yeah but like what if I take it too far.” Bob countered. “What if she actually gets hurt? Doesn’t like what I’m doing?” Bob’s mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. This wasn't his style, the rough natured touch that is–but the worrying was. That was all Bob.
“That’s what safe words and actions are for—” Jake replied with a cheeky grin, this could be his chance, the moment he’d been waiting for. “Look, do you need me to show you?” Jake smirked as Bob sat up—shooting his housemate a concerned look. “Because I could show you a thing or two.” Jake's biggest regret in recent months had been not getting to see what more you had to offer under your work uniform before he ever so kindly offered to help Bob secure the love of his life.
“Are you saying you wanna have sex with my girlfriend!!?” Bob could barely believe he even had to ask, but he wasn't all that shocked if he were to be completely honest. This was Hangman he was talking to and Jake didn't really have a hell of a lot of hard boundaries he wouldn't cross just for the plot.
“For educational purposes yeah—“ Jake teased, he took another bite of his toast as he did so. “Look I don’t really care? Watch some rough porn or something for tips, but you brought this shit to me.”
“Gosh, you really are a dick of a friend aren't you.” Bob scoffed as he pushed himself off the stool he’d been perched on. “Don't need to play the part when you are the part.” Bob couldn't help but to roll his eyes as he sipped his coffee. It was still far too early in the morning for him.
“The fuck does that mean?” Jake asked with a frown evident on his face. He’d come a long way since he first came back to TopGun a few years ago. He had friends, roots even. He wasn't the same guy. “All I did was offer to help you out, Floyd.”
“You just asked to fuck my girlfriend Jake, how much more of a douchebag can you be!”
“I said for ‘educational purposes’!” Jake wasn't going to sit here and be reprimanded by Bob just for offering his sexual services. “Look pal–I’m not the one who’s scared to fucking choke her.” Jake laughed as he got off the stool. “Honestly Bob—just do what you want at this point, slap the girl, don’t slap the girl, either way Y/n’s still gonna love you. Maybe try doing something she wants you to do and see where things go? You can only fuck up so many times.” A silence fell over the two aviators as they stood in their shared kitchen. “But either way I couldnt give more of a fuck about your sex life and the goings on or not goings on that are inevitable associated.”
“Good pep talk Hangman.” Bob hissed. He knew bringing this up to Jake was going to be a bad idea. He should have listened to his gut instinct.
“Anytime.” Jake grinned as he started walking away. Laptop in hand. He had better things to be doing on his weekend off than consoling a slightly self conscious, meek, weapons system officer.
But Bob knew that he couldn’t do this with Jake's help. He didn’t know how to give you more of what you needed and as a result he swallowed his pride and took a deep breath in.
“Wait! Jake—“ Bob held the bridge of his nose as if he was holding back a nosebleed, exhaling deeply, that’s how much he hated the words that were about to leave his mouth. “Okay, okay, for educational purposes only alright? So help me god if you cross the line and hurt her in any way I’ll—“
“Relax Robert.” Jake smirked as he walked closer to where his friend stood with slumped and deflated shoulders before he placed a reassuring hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“What, when you’re balls deep in my girlfriend? Yeah I’m sure I’ll be throwing thanks your way.”
”I meant when you actually feel comfortable giving her what she wants, but yeah you can do that too if you like.” Jake laughed as Bob whacked his chest. “Ow—!”
“That’s for being a smartass.” Bob decided on making breakfast before he went back to bed, avocado toast in hand he sauntered down the hall. Opening and closing his bedroom door quietly so as to not disturb you.
“Bob?” You mumbled at the sound of Bob bear feet padding along the carpet softly.
“Mornin’ baby—Sorry, did I wake you?” Bob asked as he leaned over your side of his bed to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.
“No no, I woke up a little while ago, it was kinda weird not having you next to me.” You admitted, most of the time if not all the time, you were the one waking Bob up.
“I made you breakfast.” Bob said as he sat on his side of the bed, crossing his legs before stealing a bite of the warm toast coated with smashed avocado before handing it over.
“Aww thanks you didn’t have to do that—“ You cooed as you sat up against the headboard. “Really baby, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to—“ Bob smiled. “Anyway, so you remember that conversation we had last night?” Bob sat picking at the small hairs on his chin. A nervous twitch he had that made your heart melt. He didn’t grow his facial hair out all too often, but that five o’clock shadow did something to you.
“Yeah, what about it?” It came out more of a mumble than anything else
“I talked to Jake—“ Immediately you felt your core temperature rise at the mere thought of Jaker seresin, Bob's friend and colleague, Bob's housemate, knowing anything about your sex life let alone your personal sexual fantasies.
“Bob!” You slapped at his chest, the brunt of your open palmed slap was softened by the cotton of his shirt. “How could you?”
“He’s one of my best friends! Y/n, you know I tell him everything.” Bob tried to defend his actions, you knew going into this that the Daggers were a close knit group of souls, all trauma bonded in more ways than one.
“Yeah but I thought maybe our sex life was off limits oh my gosh—“ But this, this was just a whole new level of broken boundaries.
“It usually is! I promise, I just—I needed advice about what you said you wanted me to do and Jakes always been the first person I go to for anything so it was only natural.” You never knew of a time where Bob and Jake weren’t close. You had been told of a time before you when the two couldn't have been more different from one another. But their dynamic had always reminded you of a big brother little brother-esk friendship.
“There’s absolutely nothing natural about Jake knowing I want you to choke me.” You scoffed. “This is why you made me breakfast, wasn't it?”
“If you think that’s not natural I think you’re gonna hate what I have to say next—“ Bob tried his best to laugh it off, but he knew deep down you weren't gonna go for it. Hell he hadnt gone for it at first.. “Jake said he—he said he’s um show me? How to uh—be rougher with you.”
“You’re kidding, Bob, What does that even mean!?”
“He’s gonna have sex with you and basically I’ll watch and take notes I guess.” You had to still be dreaming, this wasn’t actually a conversation you were having with your boyfriend right now was it? He didn't just say what he did. There was no possible way.
“Bob! NO! Oh my gosh no I’m not having sex with your best friend are you insane!?” You gasped as your eyebrows raised to new highs unseen on your forehead in shock. “You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re crazy.” You shook your head before getting out of bed.
“Where are you going?” Bob asked as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. “Baby?”
“Away from you psycho, trying to get me to fuck Jake? As if that was even a thing that came up in a serious conversation!? You two are seriously two of the most codependent people I’ve ever—“ As you opened the bedroom door in your fit of anger, shaking your head in disbelief Jake was there to stop you. He was there to stop you from going any further than a foot or so out into the hallway.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Jake's hand wrapped itself tightly around your throat. The pressure was so intense the gasp you made, made Bob stand from the bed. He was immediately worried, maybe this was a bad idea after all. “We’ve nearly seen death together sweetheart, that brings people together in ways you couldn't begin to imagine.”
“Jake–” You tried to choke out, but the way Jake gripped your throat and stepped you back into Bob's bedroom with such ease had you seeing stars.
“Did you just say harder?” He smirked as he watched your eyes roll, he applied more pressure as he walked you back, slowly and with intention behind every step. “You’re too easy Y/n.” Jake pushed you back till you were landing on the mattress you shared with Bob with a gasp and a cough. “Like an open fucking book.”
“What the hell is going on!?” You hissed as you looked between the friends who you saw most nights hanging around the pool table and being the life of any party. “Bob, this is crazy.”
“You act like you don’t want him to learn?” Jake smirked, he was already enjoying this. “C’mon Y/n, let the guy learn from the best—“ His sweats already felt constricted at the mere thought of getting to touch you the way he’d always fantasised about.
“Are you implying you’re the best?” You paused as you sized Jake up. “That’s some pretentious shit if I’ve ever heard some.” Jake looked at Bob as if to ask for permission. Bob nodded slightly, he wanted to see where Jake was going with this. How far he’d take it. He watched with lustful eye as Jake grabbed your hair and pulled you roughly towards him. Having Harlow Kneel on the edge of the bed. ”Ow—!”
“Look—this is what’s gonna happen okay? Because unlike you two lazy asses I actually have plans today, so I’m gonna fuck you—give you exactly what you want and Bob’s gonna show you what he took from this little—educational training session after. Okay?” Jakes dominating demeanour had you dizzy. This couldn’t be fucking happening. scenarios like this only ever happened in fanfiction— Specifically those cliche fanfictions about the Naval Aviators you knew taking turns sharing the reader. Had you dived too deep one night trying to prove how many girls day dreamed about your boyfriend, Bob? Yes.
“O—okay.” You managed to whimper out, you couldn't have been more turned on right now even if you wanted to be.Regardless of how morally wrong and twisted this whole thing was, you wanted to be used and abused so bad. If this was the only way Bob was going to be able to satisfy your needs? Your wants? So be it.
“Good—“ Jake grinned as he let your hair go. “Now, if things get too rough, or you don’t like something I do? Say Roses. It’s the safe word.”
“Why Roses?” You asked meekly as your knees buckled under the heat.
“Because Bob’s as delicate as a rose bud that’s why we’re doing this.” Jake teased. As if having to watch Jake fuck you wasn’t bad enough. “Now strip.” His tone changed as Bob sat down on a chair against the wall. This felt a little weird—but he would do anything to please you. To give you everything you ever desired and then some.
Bob watched with hawk eyes as you stripped everything off your body. He watched as your hands pushed your pyjama shorts down your legs, he watched you pull Bob’s shirt up over your head—leaving you naked on the bed before him. Bob wanted to run his hands softly over your curves, wanted to tell you how much he adored you, he wanted to show you how much he loved you. But as he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to his girlfriend? Jake already had his hands on your ass—pulling you closer.
“See the thing is Bob, don’t think that by being rough you love Y/n here any less.” Jake explained. “Y/n is a beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate girl don’t you agree?” He turned to Bob who looked as if he was sweating after running a couple of miles, his face was flushed a crimson red.
“Ye—yeah, she’s amazing.”
“She’s also a whore.” Jake snapped, slapping his hand harshly against your ass, making you squeal from the initial sting but soon you felt the warm print forming. “I mean look at her—she’s letting your best friend touch her? I mean it’s for educational purposes of course but still—such a little whore, and do you know what whore do Bob.”
“N—no?” He couldn't say yes.
“They suck dick when they’re told to, don’t they Y/n.” Jake asked as he pulled his shorts down, pulling his cock from his boxer briefs. Bob watched as Jake pumped himself a few times before pushing your head down. “Don’t they?” He asked again, watching as your mouth moved dangerously close to his tip.
“They do.” You looked at Bob for permission and he blinked slowly as he nodded, watching as you took Jake's first few inches in your mouth as you kept eye contact with Bob. Your Boyfriend who was now watching you suck another guy off.
“Shit—“ Bob palmed himself through his shorts. This was insanity, why was he so turned on? He shouldn't have been–but the sight of you taking Jake's length in your mouth sent him to the moon and back.
“Fuck—“ Jake groaned as you hollowed your cheeks. This was the hottest thing you’d ever done, the most scandalous thing you’d ever been a part of. Moaning around Jake's cock as you bobbed your head— taking more of Jake down your throat like it was your very mission in life to get him off to new heights.
“See Bob—look how she’s not only sucking my cock–” Jake sighed as you took more and more of him. “But look at the way she’s sticking her ass up for me, for us.” His hand slapping against your cheek—causing you to groan around his cock. Pulling away, leaving the trails of spit that connected your lips to the tip of his cock. “It’s pathetic really—you can see how much she desperately wants to be used in her eyes.”
“You think you could use me Bob?” You asked softly. Jake pulled you down to the floor by your hair. “Fuck—!” Jake made you crawl on your hands and knees towards where Bob sat.
“Yeah Robert, do you think you could make her do this?” Bob Watched as Jake pulled you up to just your knees before he worked to shoving his cock down your throat once more—your nose kissed the dark manscaped pubic hair. Jake kept you there as he listened to you gag before pulling you away. “Fuckk—So fucking good Y/n, huh?” Leaning down to slap your ass cheek harshly. Watching as you grinned and giggled. Biting your bottom lip as if to say you loved it.
“I dunno—can I try?” Bob pulled his shorts down as he stood, watching as you sat back on your heels to watch like a good girl. His boxer briefs came next— revealing Bobs hard and stiff as a rock cock that slapped up against his toned lower abdomen.
“Be my guest.” Jake said as he stood back and sat on the edge of the bed. Bob was gentle as he gripped your hair in his hand. “Harder Bob, it isn't rocket science.” Bob’s eyes locked onto yours and saw you begging him for more. Something inside him stung as he looked at you— he wanted to lean down and kiss you. But he knew what you wanted more. So he gripped your hair as tight as he could.
“Ahhhh—“ You hissed out, Bob panicked before he let go, this wasn't him, he couldn't do this.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby—“ It was an apology that wasn't needed, you were truly having the time of your life right now.
“Bob! No!” Jake groaned as he stood, sighing as he grabbed your hair and made you stand. Throwing you on the bed. Harshly.
“Jake! You're hurting her!” Bob yelled.
“Has she or has she not said the safe word?” Jake pointed out as he turned with a growl and a harsh glare Bob's way.
“That doesn’t matter Jake—“
“It does matter! There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure Bob and this little slut right here.” Jake walked over to you on the bed before he spread your legs as you laid still on your back. “Loves pain—tell him.”
“He’s right baby—I’m fine.” You moaned out at Jake's touch. “I’d say if I wasn’t—please just use me.” You begged your boyfriend with enough conviction that for a moment Bob actually believed you.
“Look at her begging Bob, how pathetic.” Jake leaned over you, his knees were now on the bed between your legs. “Right Y/n? Pathetic aren’t you?” Jake groaned as he spat in your face—shoving three of his fingers into your mouth as he slapped his tip against your throbbing pussy. So slick from the arousal that had pooled. A moaning mess as you looked at Bob.
“Watch and learn pretty boy, if I’m such a douche bag, I better live up to the title, huh?” Jake smirked as he shoved himself deep inside you, Bob watched your eyes roll back into your head as you squealed around Jake's fingers. “Fuckk—so tight!”
“Jake—“
“Get over here.” Jake groaned, thrusting himself in and out in and out of your slick and slippery pussy. “Now Bob!!” Bob moved closer as Jake removed his hand from your mouth and slapped your cheek.
“Ahhh fuck! Jake! Yes—!!” You screamed, sending a feeling through Bob he couldn’t explain. He’d never been jealous before, certainly not of Jake. But hearing his girlfriend scream out Jake's name flicked a switch inside him that would never flip back.
“Choke her.” Jake ordered, still fucking deep into your fucked out pussy— his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust he gave you.
“No,” Bob hissed, gritting his teeth. He had to restrain himself from giving into this.
“Bob! I said fucking choke her!!”
“Bob—baby please—“
“Flip her, need her on her knees for a second.” Bob ordered, Jake stopped his thrust and looked at Bob for a second and noticed a change in him. Something had been triggered. He’d done exactly what he’d set out to do.
Educate and teach.
Jake pulled out—pumping himself as you flipped over, ass in the air and ready to be pounded yet again. Jake didn’t waste any time before he slammed right back into your dripping pussy before he stuck his thumb into his mouth. Licking and sucking before softly pressing it against her puckering hole. That was a new sensation you hadnt yet dared explore. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.
“Yess! Jake! Jake please oh my god!!” You screamed as Bob slapped his cock against your face. Holy shit this was really happening.
“You want my cock baby?” Bob asked with a low rumble in his voice you didn't quiet recognised
“So bad Bob—please give me your cock, wanna taste it baby.” You begged before Bob took your head in his hands and placed his cock between your open lips—watching it disappear, more and more–slowly disappearing as you took him down your throat. Eyes watering.
“Now use her Bob, she’s your fuck toy—make her choke.” Jake groaned as he slapped against your ass yet again. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/n.”
Bob thrusted his hips back and forth into your spit dripping mouth, using your mouth as his personal toy. Listening to you gag and groan. He’d never heard these noises coming from you before. He always let you do whatever you wanted. Not one to take charge.
“Fuckk—okay Jake.” Bob gritted his teeth. “Jake get out.”
“What!?”
“Consider class over, get the fuck out!” Bob hissed. Watching as Jake smirked and pulled out. Slapping your pussy harshly making you squeal around Bob’s cock. You tried pulling away but Bob kept you still. Just like you always wanted him to.
“My work here is done I guess, guess I’ll go jerk off somewhere else then.” He chuckled, collecting his pants before leaving the room.
“Now—what am I gonna do with you?” Bob asked, pulling you off his cock and flipping you onto your back. “You want me to be rough with you? Use you? Fine—have it your way baby.” Bob slammed himself inside you, he watched as you smiled, biting your bottom lip. Bob couldn’t help but lean over you, wrap his hand tightly around your neck as he thrusted his hips against yours. He sent his hard throbbing cock deeper into you with each movement.
Bob dipped his head as he tightened his grip, biting at your nipple harshly making you wince. You couldn’t breathe—it was everything you'd ever dreamed about and more, you loved it, every second of it.
“You are a little slut aren’t you?” Bob teased. “Why have I been treating you like a—well” Bob smiled. “Like a rose?” Removing his hand so you could answer.
“Im gonna fucking cum!” You cried out, reaching between the two of you to rub at your throbbing clit. “Bob!! Harder!!” You begged, feeling Bob slam himself inside you a little faster, a little harder. “YYEESS—!”
“Oh Y/n baby I’m gonna fucking cum!!” Bob groaned, feeling you clench and pulse around his shaft. Watching as you trembled, your high washed over you as intensely as ever. It was a sight Bob fell in love with—it was like no other orgasm he’d watched you have.
“Baby—baby, Y/n oh fuck yes! Yes—!” Bob moaned aloud as he felt his balls tighten, shaft twitching as he unloaded deep inside you. Filling you with his cum. Holding you close as your nails left red raw scratches down his slightly muscular back. Bob Fell on top of you with deep heavy pants. He kissed your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake—the first of many marks Bob Floyd would leave on you.
“Bob—did I really just fuck your best friend?” You asked in your daze.
“Yeah—but it’s okay. You know why?” Bob teased as he pushed himself onto his knees above his girl.
“Why?”
“Because now I get to punish you for being such a fucking whore.” Bob hissed as he manhandled your legs, pressing them up to your head. Spitting on your pussy that dripped with his cum. His fingers danced around your entrance before slipping inside—curling up against your velvet walls.
“Oohhh—Bob!” It was a sound Bob could never get tired of hearing. Your pleasure, your desire.
Bob pulled out to slap his hand against your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching as you tried to run as he held you still. Just like you wanted him to. Needed him to. Rubbing his thumb around your throbbing clit using his own load to do so with ease.
“Now remember baby—“ Bob smirked as he leaned down to kiss your clit, feeling you shutter from his touch. Pride rose within him because he could do this and still adore you, love you and respect you.
“Just say Roses.”
***~***~***~***~***~
#bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#top gun bob#bob floyd fic#bob x reader#bob floyd smut#Robert Bob floyd smut#top gun x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fan fic#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin smut
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awards season | b.f
pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader [admiral!bob]
word count: 6129
warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], dom/sub elements, praise kink, superior/insubordinate, power play dynamics, panty stuffing, buttplugs, reader gets tied up, lush vibrating egg, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, spanking as a punishment, choking, breeding kink, inaccurate naval knowledge, unprotected p in v sex, strip tease,
summary: in which you and bob have a private arrangement going on, but you can’t resist him at the navy’s awards and promotion ceremonies
author’s note: basically a follow up part of the snappening but is also a standalone. @attapullman don’t kill me for this. happy IBFF month everyone 🥳
oneshot | masterlist
You were dressed to the nines. A gorgeous, expensive dress had been delivered to your apartment, courtesy of Natasha. She’d asked you to be her plus one to the Navy Honour’s ceremony, and who were you to say no? Javy and Bob were going to be there, obviously, but given the nature of your professional relationships to them, you all decided it was best if you went separately.
Tonight was technically your first public outing with Bob. You’d been on a couple of small dates, usually dinner at his place that wound up with you spending the night. But tonight you’d be seeing him outside of the small bubble the two of you had been living in. You wanted to look your best, and make it a night he’d never forget.
And you knew just the way to do that.
Natasha had done your makeup and the two of you had done a few shots while getting ready. She was dressed in her Navy blues, just like you knew Javy and Bob would be.
Your dress was a red backless number and you had tape pretty much covering your chest to provide an easy no-bra look. Natasha had wolf-whistled when she’d seen you and you’d tried to adjust the neckline of the dress so it wasn’t sitting so low. You felt self-conscious.
Now you were arriving, walking arm in arm with Natasha as she spoke to various Captains and Admirals. You were polite, greeting them warmly.
“And who’s your date tonight?” Natasha was asked.
“This is my friend, Y/N,” she explained.
You were sat at a table with Cyclone who continued to eye you throughout the night. Also at the table were a couple WSO’s who were prominent in their field, but you were more concerned with the fact that Bob and Javy sat at the next table over.
“You look so fucking good tonight,” Bob told you later in the evening.
He’d slipped into the empty seat beside you while Natasha was in the bathroom and the rest of your table had dispersed to speak with other people in attendance.
“Good,” you said smugly. “I wore it with the intent you’d have more fun removing it.” He chuckled and shot a look over his shoulder. “Where’s Coyote gone?”
“Probably to say the same corny shit to Phoenix.”
You laughed and reached for your glass of wine, taking a sip. “Your place or mine tonight?”
“Yours is closer,” he mused, leaning back in his seat. The length of his thigh pressed up against yours. It was as much physical contact as he was going to show in public, and you understood why. “Don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“Just tonight or in general?”
“Tonight,” he clarified. “You look so fucking good.”
You laughed again. “You’ve already said that.”
“I’m a little drunk, whatever,” he dismissed, shifting in his seat.
“How much longer do you want to stay?” You asked him, hooking your ankle behind his leg running the top of your foot up and down his calf.
He reached for your glass of wine and finished it. “I’m good to leave when you are.”
“I’ll just send Natasha a text,” you replied, grabbing your phone from your clutch to send them a text. The chances that she’d already left with Javy were slim, but never zero.
Bob and I are leaving. Recommend going to Javy’s tonight x
You tucked your phone away and gave him a look. “I’ll meet you at my place?”
He nodded and watched you quickly leave. You assumed he ordered himself an Uber, you just weren’t expecting it to be a ride-share and have him slide in the back of the car beside you.
“Same place?” The driver noted.
“Yeah,” Bob agreed, hand resting on your thigh just above your knee. The driver looked back at the two of you in the mirror before pulling into traffic, not saying another word. You were grateful for it.
Bob’s hand slowly inched higher the longer the drive took. You placed your hand on top of his to stop it from going any higher. He was who he was, and the driver kept looking in the rearview mirror. If anything was going to happen, it was once you were in the privacy of your apartment.
That you now shared with Natasha.
The two of you had decided to upgrade from your small, Navy issued apartments a few years ago. It meant you could have Bob and Javy over without any issues popping up, but the building you’d moved to was less Naval Officers and more public friendly. That had been deliberate.
Bob had been over a handful of times, though you usually went to his place. He liked to take his time, make you scream, and though Natasha wouldn’t give you too much shit for it, he didn’t like an audience. You understood perfectly, because you weren’t really a fan of an audience either. So anytime he came over, it was usually for cuddles and sleep.
By the time you got home, Bob was pulling you in for a searing kiss. He was aching to touch you, be near you. You hadn’t even managed to unlock the door before he backed you into it. Hands gripping your waist and his mouth on yours.
“Bob,” you whined, tugging at his hair.
He groaned, reaching for the keys in your hand and making quick work of unlocking the door. You grinned as you pulled him inside. He kicked the door shut and then his hands were on you again. Hiking up the dress, hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist.
You gasped, feeling his erection pressed against your core.
“See what you do to me?” He asked, roughly groping your ass as he carried you into the bedroom. “Drives me so fucking crazy not being able to touch you. Kiss you. Having to watch men flirt with you all night and not be able to make a scene.”
“They’re not you,” you reminded him. “They don’t get to see me the way you do. Who cares if they flirt? You’re the one who has me in his bed nearly every night.”
He hummed as you kissed him, savouring the feeling of his mouth on yours. The taste of liquor that lingered on his lips. The texture of his hair between your fingers.
“Help me out of this dress,” you told him, finding your feet and turning around so he could unzip the dress. Kisses pressed to your bare shoulder, fingers slowly tugging down the zipper. Too slow.
His hands skimmed your sides as the material fell to the floor. You reached up to tug at the corner of a piece of tape. You were relieved to find that it was easy to remove.
“That’s hot,” Bob teased, picking at the tape covering your other breast. “Like I’m unwrapping a present.”
You laughed and balled up the piece of tape in your hand, dropping it onto the bedside table while he continued to remove the rest of the tape. Grinning when he was done, finally able to admire you properly.
“You’re overdressed, Admiral Floyd.” Officially, he wasn’t an Admiral yet, but it was coming.
He groaned at your words, your hands sliding up his chest. Tugging the tie loose from around his neck.
“Fuck you for calling me Admiral Floyd,” he said, taking the tie from your hands and shrugging out of his jacket. “Lie down, hands above your head.”
You did as he said, resting back against the pillows and crossing your wrists above your head. You watched him move. Biting down on his bottom lip as he stepped beside the bed, looping your wrists together with his tie and knotting it to the headboard.
His hair was messy from your hands. Eyes dancing across your body with admiration and lust. He liked how easily you obeyed, that you really were his good girl. His.
Your chest heaved in anticipation, legs pressed tightly together. Seeking any kind of relief.
He hadn’t even seen your surprise yet, a pink jewelled plug seated nicely between the cheeks of your ass. It’d been driving you wild all night. A reminder of the fun you’d be having later.
“Have you been a good girl tonight?” He asked, voice thick with lust. Desire. All for you.
“No, Admiral Floyd,” you replied as innocently as you could manage.
“No?” He taunted. “Tell me, baby.”
“‘m wearing a plug,” you whispered. “Wanted to surprise you.”
He groaned in appreciation, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. “Where’s your toys?”
You whimpered. He hadn’t even touched you yet.
“Bottom drawer,” you confessed. Of course he knew you had toys. You’d sent him a video on Snapchat of you using your dildo on yourself. He crouched down, grabbing the bag of toys from the drawer.
“What other surprises do you have here?”
“Bob,” you pleaded, tugging against your restraints.
He tutted. “That’s not my name, kitten.”
“Admiral Floyd,” you mewled, bringing a smile to his face.
“That’s better, baby,” he praised, opening the drawstring bag to reveal your two dildos – one bright pink, the other flesh coloured – some nipple clamps, a couple of vibrators and a…cock ring? He pulled it out curiously, holding it up for you to see. “Have you used this with anyone?”
“No,” you confessed. “Bought it because I wanted you to wear it. Just didn’t know how to ask.”
His eyes softened as he looked at you. Spread out on the bed, tugging at your restraints and desperately seeking some kind of relief between your legs.
“I should’ve known,” he said, reaching down to cup your cheek. “The second you said you wanted two of my fingers in your cunt and five around your neck.”
You gasped as his fingers trailed down your neck, ever so lightly applying pressure.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering closed. It wasn’t enough, but it was him. The simple act of him lightly gripping your throat turned you on so much more than you thought it would.
“Spread your legs,” he told you softly.
You did as he asked, missing his light touch around your neck. You opened your eyes to watch him settle between your legs, grinning wickedly.
“Naughty girl,” he tsked. “Wearing that plug made you so fucking wet.”
“Wore it for you.”
He pulled the saturated material of your panties to the side, running his finger up the length of your slit and applied pressure to your swollen clit. Stroking it slightly, watching you squirm under his touch.
“Admiral Floyd, please.”
“Fucking hell,” he cursed, taking the time to properly remove your underwear. Stuffing the material in your mouth and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Good girls get to talk. You haven’t been a good girl tonight, have you?”
You shook your head, watching him dip his head to suck your breasts. Nipples taut with desire to be touched, played with. Your moan muffled by the material stuffed in your mouth, back arching towards his mouth. Needing so much more than he was giving you.
“Was gonna take my time with you tonight,” he mumbled, his breath hot against your skin. Suckling bruises into the swell of your chest. “Don’t think you deserve it, hm?”
Your arms strained as you tugged them, begging them to be freed. Needing to touch him. Tell him he could have his way with you, whatever he wanted. You just wanted to be used.
You watched him free his cock from his pants, kneeling between your open legs as he stroked his length. His tip was positioned at your entrance, roughly thrusting inside your sopping heat. Palming your breasts or gripping your hips as he set an unrelenting pace.
God, this was exactly what you needed. His grunts and groans filled the air. Fingers gripping your hips so tightly you knew they’d leave bruises. The sound of wet skin slapping and the tightening in your core only spurring him on.
“Cum with me, kitten,” he goaded. “Fuck, I’m almost there. Need you to milk the cum from my cock. There’s my good girl, fucking hell.”
Your body spasmed as he talked you through your orgasm. Feeling like it was so much more intense than it had ever been before. Your eyes squeezing shut, your moans muffled and legs locked around his waist.
Bob loosened your restraints and you took your panties from your mouth. Throwing them across the room while he started taking your heels off.
“Don’t give me that look,” you whined, watching a smirk form on his face as he dropped the first heel to the ground and started on the next.
“What look?” He asked innocently.
You grabbed a pillow and used it to cover your face, groaning into it. He laughed softly, only removing the pillow once your other shoe was off.
“What look?”
“That ‘you’ve got a kinky secret you’ve been hiding from me’ look,” you replied.
“I mean, you do,” he pointed out. “I won’t push it if you’re not comfortable…”
“I can’t have this conversation with a plug in my ass,” you confessed, only making him laugh. You gasped as he flipped you onto your stomach, hands grabbing your ass. Revealing that pretty plug nestled inside. “Fucking hell.”
He hummed as he toyed with the gem, spanking your ass just because he could.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he praised. Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a moan falling past your lips as he gently tugged the plug. “Relax, baby.”
“This is just turning me on more,” you admitted. “Let me do it.”
“No,” his voice was firm, gently tugging the plug again.
The moan that fell past your lips as the plug breached the tight muscle had you hiding your face in shame. Whimpering at the loss of the intrusion while he slapped your ass again.
“Get that pretty little ass in the shower,” he told you. You wasted no time in heading to the bathroom and starting the shower. You heard the plug clink as he washed it in the sink before stripping and joining you a moment later. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
You grinned as he snaked his arms around your waist, your own draping around his neck.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Admiral Floyd.”
“I’m so glad you’ve never called me that at work,” he confessed. “Would’ve been awkward as fuck trying to hide my boner.”
You laughed and he silenced you with a kiss. Sweet and searing.
“Maybe this would’ve happened a lot sooner,” you mused.
“I love that it’s happening now, though.”
“So do I.”
The next awards show was the one you’d been hanging out for. The Promotion Ceremony was almost a week after the Navy’s annual awards ceremony. You’d been working your butt off during the week, and spending the evenings with Bob.
It was a comfortable little routine you found yourselves in, but you hadn’t come close to having a conversation about your kinks and boundaries. You were hoping to broach the subject with a new little stint at the next ceremony.
Once again, your dress matched Natasha’s dress for the evening.
You walked inside the building arm in arm with Natasha yet again. You smiled warmly at Natasha’s bosses and politely excused yourself to use the bathroom. Putting your little plan into action.
The pink device slipped easily inside you, and the control was an app on your phone. You checked it to see that it was working, leaving it on a low buzz that tickled you just right. Washing your hands before joining Natasha and trying to find your table.
You were led to the right table, glad to see that it was empty for now. Allowing the two of you to settle and chat amongst yourselves for the time being.
You perked up when Bob and Javy joined you both at the table. They were mingling, as usual, but both dressed nicely in their blues. You let your eyes wander over Bob, whose jaw ticked as he took in your outfit. Eyes lingering on the deep plunge of your neckline.
So that’s how you were playing it tonight, you thought. A smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth as you met his heavenly gaze.
“Fancy seeing you two here,” Natasha teased.
The low hum between your legs was comfortable, and as Javy dragged Natasha away to get some water, you made your move. Slipping into the seat beside Bob and placing your phone on the table, the app open for anyone to see.
“What’s this?”
You leaned in a little closer and lowered your voice. “The controls for the vibrator in my pussy.”
“Oh, kitten.”
You let out a flirty giggle. “Give it a try.”
You demonstrated how to alter the speed, biting down on your inner cheeks as he cranked the speed high. Too high.
“You’re in for a long night,” he warned you.
You gave him a sweet smile as you moved back to your seat, shuffling to get comfortable despite the intense vibrations from the toy. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.
“What’s the passcode?”
“7-4-4-8,” you replied through gritted teeth, watching him lock the phone and tuck it into his pocket. It spelled out shit, which was exactly what you thought at that moment.
He grinned wickedly, resting his arms on the table as he looked at you. “You’ll be rewarded if you don’t cum.”
You nodded, legs crossed beneath the table and hands in your lap. He watched you intently as you shuffled in your seat, breaths coming short and quick. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out if anyone has any clue about what’s going on.
“Y/N,” Bob said softly. “Breathe slowly.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, blowing out a breath. Eyes finding his shining with mischief. You try to slow your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth.
But you’re acutely aware of how good it feels between your legs. The tiniest moan slipped past your lips and he’s quick to turn the device down. Your jaw ticked as you clenched your teeth and glowered in his direction.
He did it for a reason, Javy and Natasha were back. He didn’t want it to be so obvious. He didn’t want you to get caught.
One look at Natasha told you she’d got more than a bottle of water. You busied yourself with fixing her hair while she wore a guilty look and finished reapplying her lipstick.
Bob gave Javy shit, but it was all in good humour. Considering the control he had over you tucked in his pocket…you bit your tongue. Not wanting to say anything to incriminate the two of you when Natasha and Javy had clearly just fucked in a bathroom somewhere.
“Thanks,” she mumbled to you.
You hummed in acknowledgement as you sat back in your seat, trying not to fidget or shuffle too much. Every time you moved you felt the device hit your g-spot and you almost gave yourself away.
“You okay?”
You hummed again. “Yeah, when’s this thing supposed to start?”
“Soon,” Bob answered coolly. Bastard. He was having too much fun with his hand in his pocket and thumb moving the speed of the device inside you. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you snipped. Both Natasha and Javy cast a look between the both of you before sharing a look of their own. “Stop asking me if I’m okay.”
“You seem tense,” Natasha commented. “I know a good bathroom to get your back blown out in…”
Javy nudged her with a playful look in his eyes. You were glad you were seated so far away from Bob right now, you knew you’d cross a line if he was within touching distance.
“That’s not her problem,” Bob replied.
Natasha eyed you a little more carefully, her hand covering their mouth as she started giggling. God fucking damn it.
“Shut up,” you hissed.
“I haven’t said anything,” she replied, still laughing her ass off.
You slapped her arm, but the movement made the device brush your g-spot and you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop you from moaning.
Bob turned the device up ever so slightly. You glared at him, arms folded over your chest as you sank down in your seat. Trying to block out the tightness in your core and focus on your breathing again.
“What the fuck is happening?” Javy whispered to Natasha.
“I’ll tell you later,” she replied, rubbing her arm from where you slapped her. “I kinda wanna see how this plays out.”
“I’ll slap you again,” you threatened Natasha. She simply gave you a shit-eating grin in response.
It was going to be a long night.
Throughout the opening ceremony, Bob turned the vibrations down to a more bearable setting. You appreciated it, but didn’t let on that you were happy or annoyed. You focused on the host, while keeping an eye on Bob in your peripheral, whose gaze never once waived from you.
You enjoyed your drink and spoke with Natasha. As the ceremony progressed, you’d look at Bob occasionally, and only then would the setting get turned up slightly.
Your seating configuration changed so you were sitting beside Bob near the halfway point of the evening. At least, you thought it was about halfway through. They hadn’t quite finished all the mumbo jumbo from the retiring staff yet.
You drank to try and calm down as the vibrations were gradually increased to a point where you were constantly being edged. Brought closer to your orgasm, but then Bob would turn it back down. Resting a hand on your knee for a brief moment, a silent reminder of what he said earlier.
It only made you antsier. You shuffled your chair a little closer until his leg was pressed against the length of yours. You needed his touch, his comfort. Whatever kind that you could get, given your current surroundings.
When they announced the newest Admirals, Javy and Bob rose to their feet. But not before Bob set the device at an uncomfortably high speed.
“Breathe,” you reminded yourself, though it was a struggle.
Damn Bob. Damn you for having this idea in the first place.
They made short speeches as they accepted their medals that now adorned their breastplates and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t have the egg pressing nauseatingly against your g-spot.
When the men rejoined the table, Bob’s hand lingered on your thigh. Your breathing quickened, heart racing as you squeezed your legs together and gripped his hand tightly.
“You’re okay,” he told you softly, turning his hand over to properly hold yours.
“I’m okay,” you breathed, swallowing hard.
“Good girl.”
You squeezed his hand as a warning, your other hand pressed to your chest. You barely paid any attention as Natasha took to the stage. She was accepting her second star on her Admiral badge.
Your attention was pulled back to Bob as he turned the setting up again. You squeezed his hand tight, your breath catching in your throat. Bottom lip taken harshly between your teeth.
He cleared his throat, making you look at him. Your eyes watered as you met his steely gaze.
“Not yet,” he told you.
“Please,” you whimpered softly. “Please.”
“I’ll take you home soon,” he replied. “Just a bit longer.”
“Turn it down,” you pleaded quietly. “I’m going to cry. It’s too much. Please, sir.”
He took you in. Your flushed, heaving chest. Your watering hooded eyes. Your swollen bottom lip. He shifted uncomfortably, unlocking your phone and turning the device down to a more bearable setting.
He leaned closer, lips brushing your ear. “You’re getting punished for that.”
“Thank you, sir. I deserve it.”
He surprised you by kissing your cheek. You gave him a smile and rested your hand on his thigh, his wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.
You enjoyed the comfort as another couple of promotions were announced, and relaxed into him.
When it came time for you to leave, Bob happily took your hand in his.
Bob stood beside you as you watched Javy and Natasha both disappear down the street, shivering in the brisk air. He shrugged his jacket off and draped it around you without you needing to ask, smiling at you as you thanked him.
“You did good tonight,” he told you.
“You mean the vibrator?”
He chuckled, sliding an arm around your back and pulling you a little closer. “I do.”
He helped you into the car, lacing his hand with yours. You sat in silence on the ride back to his place, his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand. His other thumb altered the speed of the vibrator still inside you. Watching your reactions throughout the drive, and kissing you whenever he turned it up so you didn’t moan.
You were delirious when you arrived at his place. Feeling like you were floating on another planet as he led you up the steps and through the threshold.
“How many times did you almost come?” He asked you. You stood in front of him, feeling small under his gaze.
“Five times,” you told him truthfully.
He reached out to cup your face, lightly gripping your jane between his thumb and the length of his forefinger. “Five spanks on each cheek should be punishment enough, hm?”
Your cunt tightened in excitement. “Yes, sir.”
“Wait for me in the bedroom,” he instructed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and smiling sweetly at you.
You did as he asked, walking down to the master bedroom and hanging his suit jacket up in his closet before standing at the end of the bed, waiting anxiously. You felt the vibrations in the device get dialled up, squeezing your thighs together as you tried not to enjoy it too much. Your eyebrows pulled together, bottom lip taken harshly between your teeth. Hissing at the pain that shot through your swollen and bruised lip, a reminder of how many times you’d bitten it through the night.
Your eyes fluttered open as you heard the bedroom door click shut.
“Strip for me, baby,” Bob said, taking a seat on the end of the bed. “Keep the heels on.”
You had no music playing, but you pretended there was. A song played in your head as you moved your body under his watchful gaze. His eyes raking over you, taking in every sway of your hips, the way your hands caressed your chest and stomach. Flipping your hair over your shoulder as you turned your back to him and reached for the zipper on your dress.
The material fell to the floor but you kept dancing. The way you moved was hypnotising and you felt Bob’s burning gaze. The air electric between you as your hair covered your chest and you sat yourself down in his lap. Running your hands up his chest and toying with his tie, loosening it and undoing a couple of the buttons. Only moving away when he hand caressed your lower back.
“Touching costs extra, Admiral Floyd,” you chastised playfully, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you twirled around.
Putting on a show as you bent over and slowly removed your underwear. The material soaked with your arousal.
He chuckled lowly as you threw them at him, watching his fingers rub over the wet spot and his eyes darken as you sank to your knees. Stroking his thighs, lightly skimming over his crotch and hearing him hiss at the contact.
Eyes lock on his as you pressed a feathersoft kiss to his clothed cock. His nostrils flaring at the small gesture, jaw ticking.
“Lie across my lap, kitten,” he told you, voice leaving no room for argument. Not that you would, anyway. You were enjoying this too much. This shift in dynamic, the power you’d given him. The trust you had in him not to take it any further than you were comfortable with.
You folded yourself over his lap, glad you had the bed to rest on, too.
His hand rested on the back of your thigh, fingers toying with the pink rubber from the vibrator still inside you. He tugged it lightly, making your moan.
“You want me to take it out, or leave it in?”
“Out please, sir,” you replied meekly. He turned the device off before you felt a stronger tug. Willing your body to relax enough to let the device slip out, and whimpering at the loss as it breached the muscle. “I’ll take my punishment now, sir.”
“Five strikes on each cheek,” he reminded you. You didn’t know what he did with the toy, but his hand softly squeezed your left cheek. Playful, almost. “Count them.”
The first slap came as a surprise. Not too hard, but not too soft. Just enough to give you a taste, knowing he was likely to strike harder.
“One,” you counted as his hand caressed the tender skin. His hand came down harder this time, and you whimpered as he caressed the skin once again. “Two.”
Each strike got a little bit harder, and you grew a little bit wetter. Whimpering as his fingernails dragged over the sensitive skin, likely leaving a temporary mark in their wake.
You counted, “five,” and then came the assault to your other cheek. He started harder, but still took the time to smooth his hand over the freshly struck area. Caressing and squeezing.
“One,” you counted, hands fisting the bedding beneath you. Thighs squeezed together, desperately trying to stave off your orgasm. His hand came down hard once again, causing you to whimper under his touch. “Two.”
“Three more,” he told you, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear. “Keep counting.”
You gasped as his hand stung your ass once more. “Three,” you said, eyes squeezed shut. You counted out the last two painfully, tears stinging your eyes. Not because of the pain, but because of the pleasure.
He pulled you into his lap, cradling you into his chest. Brushing your hair back from your face and swiping at a tear that escaped before it ran down your cheek.
“Was that too much?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“No,” you assured him. “It was good, I just need to come. Please, Admiral Floyd. Please let me come.”
He hummed, cupping your cheek and drawing you in for a kiss.
His mouth was dominating. Tongue working its way into your mouth, a firm hand on your hip, the other cupping the base of your skull. Fingers wound into your hair and tipping your head back, exposing your neck to him. His hot mouth latching onto your soft skin, sucking, pecking, biting.
You released a shaky breath as he nipped at your collarbones, hand gripping the back of his neck, the other tugging his tie.
You gasped as his hand skimmed up your side, cupping your breast. Thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple before pinching it roughly and dipping his head to take the other one in his mouth. Teeth grazing the swollen nub, tongue soothing, fingers teasing.
He moved you so you were lying on your back, completely at his mercy. His mouth and hands continued to pinch and nip at your chest, your back arching into his touch. Legs spread wide, accommodating his body. Hands wound in his short hair and tugging as he sucked a bruise into the top of your breast.
Your hips arch off the bed, desperate for some friction between your legs. His teeth grazed your nipple as he chuckled, biting down enough to make you hiss.
“So needy,” he taunted, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud. “Use your words, babygirl.”
“Need your mouth, Admiral Floyd,” you pleaded. “Your tongue, your fingers. Anything. Please make me come.”
His hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs as he kisses your navel and pushes you further up the bed. Ankles resting over his shoulders, the heel of your stilettos no doubt digging into his back, but if it bothers him he doesn’t let on. Eyes level with your pretty, glistening cunt.
He used his thumbs to spread you open, groaning as your hands comb through his hair.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he compliments, laying his tongue flat against your cunt and tasting your arousal. Humming in appreciation as you gasp and shudder, nose pressed snug against your clit.
He hooked his arms under your thighs, splaying his hands out over your chest and stomach. One hand applying pressure to your abdomen, the other playing with your breasts.
When your thighs clamped around his head, he knew you were a goner. Tongue licking, mouth sucking, nose firm. The perfect combination, and his favourite way to make you come undone.
He groaned in appreciation as your hips bucked against his face, riding out your orgasm. Your juices coating his tongue and dribbling down his chin.
You saw stars as he pressed two fingers inside your sopping cunt, curling them back towards himself as he sucked on your clit. Teeth grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves, hips rolling against his mouth.
Then he sucks. Hard. And you almost pass out, gasping and bucking your hips wildly. Fingers brushing against your g-spot, working together with his mouth to make you cum again.
Your head lolled to the side, body satiated and pliant. Eyes frantically trying to blink away the spots from your vision until Bob’s face was all you could focus on. His hand cupping your cheek, eyes full of worry.
Chin glistening.
“I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you confessed breathily, eyes coming back into focus.
“Think you can cum again for me?” He asked.
“Yes, sir,” you confirmed, pulling off his tie with a grin.
He chuckled as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and quickly removed his trousers. Cock springing free and slapping his stomach, the tip angry and red and glistening with precum.
He groaned as you reached for his cock, stroking his length. His hand replaced yours and you gasped as he slapped his cock against your clit. Grinning wickedly as he ran the tip of his cock up your slit and pushed just the tip inside your cunt.
“Admiral Floyd,” you pleaded. “Please. I need your cock, sir. Need you to fill me with your cum.”
Bob groaned deeply as he folded himself on top of you, hips rocking into you. Refusing to give you more than just the tip.
“Such a filthy little slut, hm?” He asked, fingers closing around your throat. Squeezing your pressure point. Your mouth falling open at the sudden act.
“Yes, sir,” you agreed, swallowing thickly. “Only a slut for you.”
He hummed, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re mine.”
You whimpered, fingernails digging into the fresh over his shoulder blades. Your brain covered in fog, too overwhelmed by him.
“Say it,” he growled. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours, Admiral Floyd. Your filthy little slut.”
You gripped his wrist as he thrust inside you, bottoming out. Your eyes rolling back in your head, his name falling past your lips in a delirious chant.
“Mine,” he repeated, sealing his mouth over yours as his thrusts made you moan. So fucking close. So fucking good.
You groaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue, gripping the back of his neck as he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes locked on his, noses nudging together as his thrusts grew faster. Harder. More unrelenting.
Taking and taking and taking until you were coming undone around him. Beneath him. Consumed by all things Bob.
“Bob,” you whined, legs wrapping around his waist as he came. Grunting and bottoming out as his cock twitched and spilled inside you.
He looked so fucking pretty when he came. Eyes screwed shut, body shuddering. A thin sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the low light. Lips parted as he cursed and panted your name.
He collapsed beside you, stroking your hair with a blissful look on his face. Holding you close, your lips pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his chin, his lips.
“That was…holy fuck,” he said with a breathy chuckle.
You hummed, smiling as he nudged your nose with his. “You’re so good to me, Admiral Floyd.”
He groaned lowly, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re good to me, kitten. So fucking good.”
He kissed you slowly, sweetly. A stark contrast to the frenzied kisses you’d shared previously. Taking his time to make you feel comfortable, cherished. So fucking loved.
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