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mothdruid · 2 years

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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.

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pinkdaisies9285 · 3 months

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Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!

It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head.

“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made.

“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.”

All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.

“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.

“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.

“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks.

“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.”

Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it.

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geminijade · 3 months

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I Swear to God that if Lewis James Pullman as Robert " Bob " Floyd is not a part of the Top Gun 3 cast I will riot 🔥🥵

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sebsxphia · 10 months

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ebb and flow.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: sex is sometimes confusing for you to navigate, but bob floyd makes it easy.

￫ word count: 3.1K.

￫ c/w: mentions of shit sex, brief smut, p in v, f!oral receiving, f!masturbation, sex toys, daddy kink, swearing, kissing and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: this is a love note from me, to bob, to myself, and is a very real experience of me and my sexuality. i hope you enjoy! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy sex, you loved sex. You loved the feeling of having your most intimate places and private thoughts brought to life, in a sheltered and cocooned environment. You longed for the closeness and the touch of bodies, slick with sweat. You craved desperately, that feeling of letting go as you were connected to another person, but that was the catch. You craved it, you longed for it, you loved it, but it didn’t always mean that it happened.

If someone was to ask you if you had a high sex drive, you would say, “oh, yeah! I love sex.” And it’s true. You loved sexuality and you would have sex when you could, but it wouldn’t answer the question. Because truthfully, you didn’t know if you had a high sex drive. There was always something or someone, confusing you and making you doubt your own drive.

You masturbated frequently, but it was always with the help of pornography. At least then you could skip to the good bits that would make you orgasm. You couldn’t really do that in real life.

There was a previous partner who, once they finished, panted down at you, “did you come?”

When you sheepishly admitted that you hadn’t, they would scoff as they rolled off you.

“Sorry, I guess. My last girlfriend always used to come so quick. Just not used to going as long as you.”

On a separate occasion, a girl lifted her face up from between your legs with an irritated frown pinched between her brows.

“Are you close to coming?”

Sure, she was hitting the right spots and yes, it might’ve taken you a little longer than most to orgasm, but you felt that hoping and longing feeling of coming fizzle out entirely.

You gave her a sore smile. “It’s alright, let’s stop.”

Your last partner you were with for nearly a year and he was the first person to make you come relativity easily. He knew the sweet spots that were dotted around your body and he listened to what you were asking for, but still came the little complaints. The little comments that made your ribs restrict around your lungs and call it off.

You had both reached your highs and your cunt was still twitching for more. You meekly asked him, “do you think you could make me come again?” And his response made you call it off entirely.

“Again? But you take so long.”

The ache dulled painfully between your thighs.

After that partner, you lost any sort of sex drive for almost a year. But life continued to have an ebb and flow, and it bought you to Bob Floyd.

Bob had you bent over the back of your sofa with your sundress hitched around your waist and his flight suit barely off. He allowed a gap just big enough in between his zipper to free his aching cock and piston his hips against your ass.

He came home later than he had planned, due to running drills for what seemed to go on forever, because someone (Jake), had decided it would be funny to make a passing joke at Cyclone. He was far too exhausted to shower and change on the base, and he was already running late coming home to you. He didn’t want to waste another second. He drove home with his bruised and battered body, covered in a thick and musky scent of sweat underneath his flight suit. He had his hands on your hips and his mouth on your lips the moment you greeted him. Bob’s rough grunts and forceful movements of his body against yours, let you know he needed you, and he needed you now.

With not a second to spare, he was already shuddering behind you and letting out an elongated groan of your name, dowsed in relief. You could feel his heavy cock twitch inside your cunt and you moved with him, aching for your own relief. Your stomach was doing somersaults every time he nudged against the sweet spot inside of you. Bob smoothed his hands along your spine and drew down the hem of your sundress. He gently lifted you up and turned you around to face him, tucking his softening cock back inside of his flight suit. He wore a lopsided smile as he cradled your jaw, pressing his lips to yours and thanking you.

“I needed that. Comin’ home to you dressed like this? Oh, I’m the luckiest, God damn pilot.”

You offered him a reassuring smile and fiddled with the collar of his flight suit, running your fingertips over the stitches and inseams. “Do you think, you could—”

“Oh my darlin’ wife,” you felt Bob’s cool engagement ring press on your hot cheek as he drew you to look up at him. You were yet to be married, but he wasted no time in calling you his wife already. “You don’t even have to ask. It would be my pleasure.”

His pleasure. His pleasure.

It made butterflies swarm in your stomach and your cheeks turn an even rosier shade of pink. Bob always reminded you that it was never an inconvenience to him. He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to make you come and he would happily stay in between your thighs for as long as you (or he), needed.

“C’ere, sweetheart.” You yelped out a squeal as Bob ran his forearms around your stomach and lifted you up to throw you over his shoulder with such little effort. You were a string of bubbling giggles as he carried you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He could’ve had you right here on the sofa, but he wanted to take you to your bedroom. He knew it was somewhere where you could feel safe being so exposed, feel vulnerable, let out your intimate thoughts.

Between hiccups of laughter, you would cry out, “Robert! Put me down!”

To which he would reply with a firm swat to your ass, and a defiant, “nope! My pretty lil’ bunny deserves princess treatment, do they not?”

He didn’t see how you bit down on your bottom lip, biting back your lovesick smile.

Your hips were hanging off the edge of your mattress, your frame bare and Bob’s hands holding your thighs open as his mouth was planted firmly on your pussy. He was devouring you like a four course meal. His tongue wouldn’t allow a single crease, or fold, to go amiss and he paid intricate detail to your clit. He would wrap his lips firmly around it and let his teeth sink gently in. The harsh suck of his mouth created shock waves, jolting through your abdomen and up your spine.

The pleasure he was providing you felt Heavenly, and you knew your sweet Bobby would never miss how your body reacted to his touch and register what he needed to do next. He was a WSO. Planning, co-ordination and pin point accuracy was his job. Yet, inside your mind, it was as though you were flicking through three hundred television channels at an alarming rate. You couldn’t find that one television show you wanted to watch. You couldn’t find Bob’s touch. And so, as your mind flicked through the channels, your thoughts tailed off with them.

“Fuck, should I of put the vegetables in the fridge? By the time we eat they might’ve gone funny. I must change the bedsheets tomorrow, it’s been… one, two… three weeks. God. I keep loosing track of these things. Maybe I should buy a planner. There was that really nice one you saw the other day. I wonder if Bob would like one too? We could have matching ones. Oh, don’t forget, message—”

“My love?”

The incessant channel flicking came to a stop and you were back to your Bobby in your bedroom. His face was dipped up from between your thighs and a glimmering sheen, mixed with his spit and your arousal, was coating his chin. His eyebrows were turned upwards in loving concern as he repeated his question.

“Are you okay?”

Your chest rose and fell with an exhausted groan. Your hands removed themselves from Bob’s now mused hair, and you ran them down your face. “I’m sorry, honey.” You muttered pathetically against your palms.

Bob now rose completely up from the floor of your bedroom and leant over your frame spread vulnerably on the bedsheets (that you urgently needed to change). He rested one toned forearm onto the mattress to consume your body against his. His other hand let his slender fingers intertwine with the loose strands of your hair that fell against your forehead.

“No, no, my darlin’,” Bob was pleading with you. His tone sounded desperate as he tried to reassure you, but his words were firm. After your multiple confessions of previous partners and their, choice of words, he took the weight of you finding pleasure with him high and mighty on his shoulders. He would never let you fall without him there to catch you gently in his undying arms.

“Please, don’t ever apologise. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m stayin’ right here with you ‘till I hear those pretty noises you make.” His lips curved into a troublesome smirk at the end. He slid his resting forearm under your back to lift you up off the mattress, and steadily sat you upright incase the blood had all but flowed from your head.

“Shall we move ourselves?” He suggested and you agreed, but before you could speak your agreement, he was already way ahead of you and pulling out the wicker chair from the corner of your room and situating it in-front of your long standing mirror.

“I’ve got an idea, one that I know, you’ll like.” The same troublesome smirk was etched onto his face as he guided you over to the chair. “Do you want me to get you one of your toys?”

You hummed in delightful agreement. “Please, get the black one.”

Bob retrieved the slick black vibrator from the bottom drawer of your dresser and sat himself on the chair. He held onto your waist as he maneuvered you to sit on his lap. His broad hands ran along the underside of your thighs to pick them up gingerly, and rest them over the arms of the chair. His forearm, with his muscles bulging and veins protruding, was locked tightly around your torso to keep you firmly pressed up against his bare chest. His other hand that was holding the sleek vibrator, came down to rest haphazardly on your thigh.

You were fully exposed to yourself, Bob and your mirror. With his firm, but gentle hold on your body, you had no real wriggle room and you were to take whatever sensation he was about to provide you. That made your cunt twitch. Perhaps the flicking through the television channels was about to come to a stop. You’d found your Bobby and his pleasurable touch.

Your head was resting on his shoulder and you felt his plush cheek rub against your temple, feeling his baby hairs catch on yours. And then his lips were warm against your ear. A tickling sensation prickling down your earlobe and along your neck as he spoke.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“Good girl.”

There was a quiet snicker from Bob in your ear as your breath hitched at his words. With his arm wrapped around you, he could feel every intricate detail and twitch of your frame against his. He pressed his thumb down on the top of the vibrator and it whirred to life. A steady and low buzz hummed throughout your bedroom. He placed the tip to your thigh and you involuntarily twitched.

“‘member, I’m stayin’ here with you. I ain’t leavin’ you, my darling.” You locked eyes with him through the reflection of your mirror and you nodded against his shoulder, his movements along your thigh continuing.

“Keep your eyes focused, right here, baby.” His own gaze returned to where his hand was trialing with the vibrations further down your thigh and into the apex of your cunt. With the lightest of touches he pressed the tip to your swollen clit and a sudden gasp escaped your throat without even registering it. He pressed the tip down for five seconds or so, before removing it and letting your pussy become a customized to the feeling.

He repeated this motion several times, as he listened intently to how your little moans and gasps became more frequent. Alongside that, his gaze never left your reflection. He let your own eyes flutter open and shut as your body reeled with the sensations, but he was there to intimately gage what you needed next. He dragged the vibrating tip down through your folds and glided along the other, not so sensitive, but still incredibly important, areas of pleasure. He would draw the vibrator back upwards and let it catch on your clit before pinpointing it firmly on the swollen bundle. Each time he repeated this motion, your body withered continuously under his grasp. You let your skull lull back completely onto his shoulder and you weren’t holding back any longer on your moans.

“Feels s’ good, Bobby.” You croaked out with a moan.

He parted his fixated gaze from your squirming frame for only a moment, to allow his lips to fall underneath your earlobe. He nimbly let his teeth graze over your tender flesh and tug at it, before his tongue would soothe over the spot.

“I know, pretty darlin’, I know.” Bob cooed quietly into your ear. A shudder was jolted down your spine and tickled at your nerve endings. His drawl was getting huskier in your ear and your fingertips were digging so hard into his forearm, you were sure they would leave little crescent marks from your nails.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, Bunny. Do you wanna take a look? Do you wanna see how Daddy is making my pretty little clit jump?”

Your eyes fluttered open to peer at the sight before you. Your hips jolted forward as he pressed the vibrator with pin point accuracy on where you needed it most.

“Robert!” You whined out. “Fuckfuckfuck…”

“Is that it, m’love? Is that the spot?” You pursed your lips together and nodded feverishly. You found his gaze again in the mirror and his cock twitched beneath you at the sight of your pleading eyes, with a glaze of tears brimming in your eyes. He gently pushed his cheek against your temple again to motion at you.

“C’mon, Bunny. Don’t hold back. Let those pretty little sounds out. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

He pressed the vibrator on the same sweet spot and let your hips buck upwards to chase the feeling. Your lips parted and a desperate cry tore from your throat. Your voice wobbled as you begged him.

“Please, please, please. Oh God, Daddy! Don’t fuckin’ stop, right there, ‘lease…” You trailed off with pleas as your mind zoned in on the one television channel that was about to bring you crashing off the edge.

Bob watched you with intent through the reflection of the mirror. His cock was shamelessly getting harder underneath you. Right now, in this very moment, in this captured time within the universe, he wanted nothing more than to watch you fall apart in his lap. It was his pleasure as much as it was yours.

“Oh that’s it,” His voice was guiding you through it, coaxing you closer to the edge that you would inevitably fall off. “Good girl. Daddy’s gon’ stay right here, keep toyin’ with my clit.”

“I’m gon’ come, Bobby! Oh God, I’m gonna—” Your jaw went slack and a silent, wordless cry was all that tore from your throat. You were unable to form anything. Not a single thought or word as pleasure tore through you.

“Go on, my baby. Come for me.” Bob was there to take control of your mercy towards him. As you felt the warm burst of your orgasm strike through your clit and up your abdomen, you followed with a broken whine. Your hips were uncontrollably bucking and squirming against Bob’s grip and against the vibrator, that he kept nestled deep within your soaked folds. Your hands reached upwards and behind to grip tightly onto his neck, finding anything to keep yourself stable against the powerful release that was currently coursing through your veins.

“That’s it, Bunny. Keep goin’ for me, you’re doin’ so, so good. Such a good girl f’ me.”

Your thighs were now thrashing against the wicker and Bob made a mental note to soothe them later with cream. He let you move against him with free will as broken sobs left your lips. He continually moved the vibrator as you flowed through your orgasm, letting you soak up every inch of pleasure that he was providing you. He knew how badly you needed this release, and how his patience towards you was something that you treasured with every squirm of your body against his.

He could feel the tensing of your muscles soothe and slow down with each second that passed. Eventually, he gently trailed the vibrator off your twitching clit and back along your thigh, to continue the dying sensation for just that little bit longer. He pressed down the button on top of the vibrator and the humming sound came to a stop. All that could be heard was your pants of hot air bouncing off the bedroom walls. He let the vibrator fall to the floor so he could bring his hand up to smooth over your flesh. He gently ran his fingertips through your folds and let you twitch a little more in his lap, as he collected your arousal. It was like nectar to Bob. There was no sweeter sensation to him than feeling you pool on his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, Bunny?” He splayed out his hand to cup your pussy and gently squeeze it. It was a comforting warmth under his touch and it pulsated against his calloused palm on its own accord.

You let your hands drop from his neck and rest on his forearms, feeling out the familiar shape of your lover. “Y— yes. I’m your good girl, Daddy.” Your voice was weak, but Bob hummed quietly in your ear as he heard you.

“T— thank you, Bobby.” When you spoke again, he shushed you as to reassure and console you. His fingers were tracing repeated patterns over your thighs.

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I do this all for you, ‘cause I love you s’ deeply.” He nuzzled his nose against your frightfully warm cheek and let you contentedly bathe in the swirling feeling of the afterglow.

It was a feeling that you had so rarely experienced before, but Bob was there to always make it feel as though you were swimming in a lake made out of the moon and stars.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @bradshawsbitch @peachystenbrough @lewmagoo @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

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roosterforme · 9 months

Text

The Curveball Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob ends up on thin ice with Molly after Bradley ends up on thin ice with her sister. But all he can think about is the perfect night he spent with her and how he'd be crushed if he didn't get a chance to do it all again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob was trying his best to be in the moment at the Hard Deck, since he was the one who invited Molly's sister out for a drink. He wanted to say thank you for all the hard work she put in while Bradley was away. But he was so distracted.

Molly had spent the entire day sending him selfies while she was at work, and some of them were definitely rated mature. Bob had almost broken his phone earlier trying to minimize a photo of Molly's pierced nipples when Coyote walked over to him. She had snapped the photo of herself in the bathroom at the hospital when she was on break along with the caption I miss you, Bobby <3

The little heart at the end reminded him that he had already said he loved her. He assumed she hadn't heard him, but it made him blush just the same. And now he was at the bar with her sister and Bradley, which should have been fun, but he just wanted to get home and see Molly.

Bob watched Nat and Jake both relentlessly flirt with Team Mom, but there was no way she had eyes for anyone except Bradley. And then he wondered what it would be like if he brought Molly here. He wanted to, because he already wanted to be with her all the time. But...Bob looked around at all the guys, and that feeling of self doubt was back. Jake was handsome and charming, and probably the kind of guy Molly was used to being with.

When Nat offered to buy a drink for Team Mom, Bob cut her off, glad for the distraction. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?" And while he was up at the bar, waiting patiently for Penny to fill his order, Molly's sister ran out of the bar, followed closely by Bradley.

"What happened?" Bob asked, holding two beers while Jake rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He mumbled a response and walked away, but when Bradley finally came back inside, he looked like he was ready to kill Jake.

And then the barrage of text messages from Molly came through. Bob's eyes went wide as he read them.

Are you aware that your buddy Bradley is actually a fucking dickhead? I can't BELIEVE what he did to my sister!

Seriously, Bob. Why didn't you warn my sister about him?! What the fuck! He called Everett baggage!

Please tell me you're not like him!

You know what? Maybe I don't want to find out.

Bob called her immediately, but she didn't answer. When he got her voicemail, he said, "Mo, please call me back so we can talk, okay? I don't think Bradley meant any of what he said. He's not a bad guy. And I... don't think I could ever do anything to hurt you." He contemplated telling her he loved her again, but he ended the call before he could.

He was already home for the night when he got one last text from her.

I'm not coming over.

Bob collapsed in his bed, raking his fingers through his hair, wondering if this, of all things, was what would cost him his chance with her.

--------------------------

Molly was having a wonderful evening with Everett. They painted huge masterpieces on poster boards and left all the messy brushes in the kitchen sink. Molly secretly loved leaving an innocuous mess for her sister to clean up in her otherwise spotless house. It kept her on her toes.

"Movie time? With ice cream?" she asked Everett, checking the time. Of course she'd let him stay up late. That's just what aunts did.

"There's ice cream?!" he shouted, sprinting back into the kitchen.

"Of course there's ice cream," she replied, kneeling in front of the freezer. "I know all of your mom's secrets. She thinks she's so sneaky, but you can't get anything past me." After removing all the healthy, pre portioned frozen dinners, Molly hit the jackpot. There was a gallon of fudge ripple and a gallon of vanilla raspberry. "See?" she asked Everett, holding them both up.

"Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple!" he chanted, and soon they were watching a PG-13 movie with two spoons stuck in the ice cream carton.

"Want some more?" she asked, passing the carton to him.

He took a bite and said, "I don't think my mom wanted me to watch this movie."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "I'll cover your eyes for the scary parts, okay?"

"Okay!" he agreed.

Molly took a few more bites before she asked him, "You like Coach Bob, right?"

"Oh yeah, like a whole lot," he replied. "Almost as much as I like Coach Bradley."

"That's a lot," Molly muttered. "I like him, too." She was smiling as Everett looked at her.

"You should probably marry him," he said seriously. "I heard my mom say that Coach Bob is smart and nice and that she never thought you could do so well."

Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like something your mom would say, and that's exactly why we are eating her overpriced ice cream without her. Now close your eyes for the scary part."

About twenty minutes later, Everett was sound asleep on her lap while she finished the ice cream. Then she carried him up to bed, starting to get a little nervous that her sister would be back soon. She tucked him in, turned on his nightlight, and then hightailed it back to the kitchen to hide the evidence of the empty ice cream carton.

But when she got home, Molly could tell something was wrong and went right into protective jungle cat mode. "What happened?" she asked softly as soon as she saw her sister's tear streaked cheeks and quivering lips.

After a few minutes of being held in Molly's arms, she was able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

"That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," she said softly against Molly's shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said vehemently.

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

It had been more than a makeout session, but Molly wasn't going to correct her. She was so into Bob after being intimate with him, that she was devastated now. Because Molly knew she would ditch him in an instant, even if it would hurt, in order to support her family.

Molly kissed her sister's cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

-----------------------

Bob barely slept, and he was wide awake before his alarm went off on Saturday morning for the tee ball game. He hadn't heard another word from Molly. Even if she wanted to yell over the phone, he would have loved to hear her voice.

When he arrived at the ballfield, Bradley was already there. "You look like shit," Bob told him, and he could hear the disappointment in his own voice.

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley didn't hang around at the bar last night after things blew up, so Bob really wasn't sure exactly how bad it was.

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday."

Now Bradley looked sincerely upset on Bob's behalf. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bob felt his heart lurch as he looked up toward the parking lot and saw Molly and Everett headed his way. "I'll be right back," he mumbled and headed for her immediately.

Everett ran past him, calling out, "Hi, Coach Bob!" before continuing on to Bradley. But Bob had his sights set on Molly and her beautiful face filled with indignant anger.

"Molly," he gasped, wanting to reach for her as she came stomping to a halt in front of him. She was glorious. God, he was in love with her.

"Tell me you knew," she demanded. "Tell me you knew Bradley was trying to play my sister." She was practically vibrating with concealed rage now. "Tell me you fucking knew he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as them."

Bob swallowed hard, and her eyes flashed. "Molly, he loves them. I don't think he would do or say anything to intentionally hurt either of them."

"He has a sick way of showing it," she spat. "He called Everett baggage."

Bob held his forehead in his hands. "I think Bradley just needs to talk to her. He's so crazy about them, he's really beating himself up."

Bob watched Molly glance past him to glare at Bradley while he helped Everett get ready for the game. "He can rot," she said, but her voice was softer now. "And so can you if you agree with what he said."

"I don't," he promised. "Please, Molly. I...I missed you yesterday as soon as I dropped you off at your car. I missed you all night. I missed texting with you until one of us fell asleep."

She looked up at him, eyes searching his face. She muttered, "I missed you, too," and then she was heading toward the bleachers.

----------------------------

Molly was finding it hard to keep giving Bob the cold shoulder after another day. She was spending a lot of her time with her sister and nephew, sleeping over there and taking Everett out to keep him entertained.

She didn't feel any better after she blew up at Bradley. In fact Molly felt worse, because she sensed that Bradley really was sincere in the way he just wanted to apologize. And he clearly doted on Everett. Maybe he really did just want a chance to apologize, but Molly knew her sister wasn't ready to listen yet.

Her phone went off, and she reached for it while she was making coffee at her place late on Sunday morning.

Coach Cute Glasses: I miss you, Molly.

She groaned; the gas station flowers were in the vase right next to her, and she was trying not to look at them. Casey never did anything like give Molly flowers. He'd given her some hickeys and exactly two orgasms. But he also hadn't been friends with anyone who hurt her sister.

She moaned helplessly. Her body was betraying her. She wanted to spend another night curled up with Bob, all warm and protected. She wanted to feel his even breathing and listen to his soft voice as she fell asleep. "Damn it," she whined, typing out a message to him.

Miss you, too. Any chance I'm still invited to your place?

Molly was weak for Bob. She knew that already. Just one night with him, and she was constantly daydreaming about him at work. His rough hands. And how sweet he was. And how he wanted to be exclusive with her already. And his big cock.

Coach Cute Glasses: You are always invited. Please, Molly, anytime. Do you want to spend the night with me?

Molly snorted as she read the text, but another one was already coming through.

Coach Cute Glasses: I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded! I'd just love to see you. I would be so happy if you wanted to come by, and even happier if you wanted to stay with me all night. I liked how it felt to wake up in bed with you.

Molly tucked her phone into the pocket of her scrubs. He could wait it out for a bit. That sort of thing was good for a man. Especially one who was that eager to see you. But by the time she parked at the hospital, she texted him back.

---------------------------------

Bob was in such a panic. Molly was coming over. And he wasn't sure if she was upset with him or just Bradley. He wasn't sure if she was planning on staying over.

"I'm sorry," Bradley told him for the hundredth time when he called him. "I'm sorry if I blew it for you."

"I'm going to talk to Molly in a few hours," Bob said, rushing through the parking lot to his truck. He was running around, grocery shopping, trying to distract himself.

"Can you tell her I miss her sister and Ev?" Bradley asked.

"I'll try," Bob promised as he got into his truck and ended the call.

Molly worked until 8 o'clock. He had a few hours to kill before he'd see her, so he wasn't quite sure why he was rushing. Then he stopped for more gas station flowers and cleaned his already spotless condo. He tried to eat dinner, but he couldn't stomach anything except toast. And when he finally heard her ringing the intercom button, he ran to answer it.

"It's Molly," she said softly, and he quickly let her into the building. He stood with his front door open, and a minute later, there she was. She had changed after work, and she looked stunning. No make-up at all and just some jeans and a crop top, but Bob felt suddenly short of breath. He wanted to run his hand along the flower tattoos on her side, and kiss her there too.

"Molly," he whispered, fighting the urge to blurt out another I love you. He needed to keep it together right now. "Come in."

She walked past him and looked slowly around his living room and dining room while he closed and locked his door. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and suddenly he felt a little ridiculous that his place was so sparse.

"Very clean," she muttered, her voice and clothing filling the space with so much color and warmth as she examined the gas station flowers. "I wouldn't know how to keep up with it," she said, turning and smiling softly at him.

"I missed you," he blurted out, and her smile grew.

"Tell me more," she demanded, turning to fully face him.

Bob swallowed and took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He was afraid he was going to stutter or say something stupid, but Molly just smiled at him, her all-knowing eyes gentle on his face as she waited.

"I...can't get you out of my mind. I called the runway attendant Molly by accident earlier, because I was thinking about you. Phoenix, my pilot, will never let me live it down."

Molly's laughter had him taking a step closer. "Tell me more," she said, also taking a step toward him.

"I can't stand the thought of you being upset with me," he said sincerely. He ducked his head and added, "Thursday evening was one of the best nights of my life. Because I spent it with you." He paused, finally daring to meet her eyes.

"Oh, keep going," she said with a nod. "You're doing great."

"I want you to believe I'd never be friends with Bradley if I didn't think he was a good person. And I think he just got a little mixed up. Your sister and nephew really threw him for a loop, you know? But he really loves them."

Molly hummed and shrugged. "I guess I could relay that message to my sister. But I also have a message from me to you."

Bob took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I missed you, too. I can't stop thinking about you either. And Thursday night and Friday morning, you were so sweet to me, I just want more." Then she kissed his chin and took his hands in hers. "I want you to touch me."

Bob pulled her close as she placed his hands at her waist. He would never get used to being around her, not as easily as she seemed to already know how he operated. She looked up at him, gaze open and earnest. Soft fingers gliding up his arms, tucking into the short sleeves of his tee shirt and gently squeezing his biceps. She placed three soft kisses to the corner of his lips, and he was done. He had to fight the invading thoughts of her nipple piercings and the way her body feels and looks when she's whining for him in her bed beneath him.

"Molly," he begged, but he wasn't sure what he was begging for.

"Bobby?" she asked softly, pushing one hand through his hair and keeping his gaze focused on her. "I think I need you to fuck me."

"Oh," he groaned, turning her and pushing her back against the wall. He caged her in, and she looked absolutely delighted.

"If you want to." Her voice was soft and sweet, and her gaze was anything but.

"Honey," Bob managed between ragged breaths as she let her hands come to rest on his abs. She was messing with him. Messing him up completely. She knew exactly what she was doing, but meanwhile, Bob was new to this game. But he was a quick study. A fast learner.

So when Molly licked her lips and pouted, saying, "You don't want me Bobby? I thought you wanted to be the only one," he was ready for her.

He wedged one thigh up between her legs, and she gasped. Then his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding. She was grabbing for his shoulders, rubbing herself all over him. He could feel her teeth, digging into his bottom lip, not hard, but definitely not soft. When she released him, she licked his lips until her tongue was in his mouth.

Bob was rock hard, and try as he may to keep control in this moment, he couldn't. Because Molly was stroking him through his pants and tasting his mouth. Her nose was rubbing along his as she whispered, "Do you want me, Bobby?"

He reached down, wrapping both of his hands around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up into his arms. Then her lips were on his neck and her arms were wrapped around him as he took her to his bedroom. She was on her back on his bed, kicking her shoes off while her little top rode up so Bob could see the soft undersides of her breasts. There was too much to admire here, and he froze up.

When Molly's hands found the zipper of her jeans, she whispered. "I want you to say it, Bobby. I want you to tell me everything you plan to do to me." And then her hand was slipping inside her underwear, and she was stroking herself as he watched.

"Mo," his voice was hoarse. He pushed her knees apart and settled between her legs, bending to kiss her wrist before pulling her hand free of her jeans. "I want to put my mouth on you."

The smile that curled along her lips as she started to shimmy out of her jeans and underwear should have made him a little nervous, but he was beyond help. Her bare pussy was right there, and she smelled so good. As soon as her jeans hit his floor, Bob's face was buried in her.

"Alright, Lieutenant Floyd," she moaned softly. "Okay." And to Bob's delight and dismay, Molly's hands were on her own breasts, pushing her shirt up and playing with her piercings. She tasted so good as he ran his tongue through her wetness and sucked on her clit. But soon he was rutting into the bed, the sight of her fingers on those little barbells spurring him on.

When Bob slipped his tongue inside her, Molly's back arched off the bed as she started whining for him. "Bobby, I want your big cock." He grunted in response, willing to give her anything in this moment, and shocked by how much he liked her dirty talk.

He worked the zipper over his painfully hard erection and scrambled to get himself free. And then he was rocking into her at the same time he got his mouth on her nipples.

"Yes," she hissed softly, head tipped back with a soft giggle on her lips. He was fucking her, and it felt just as perfect as it had a few days previously. Like her whole body was made for him. Like every response from her perfect lips was just what he needed to hear. "So fucking big."

He pushed those little, silver barbells around with his teeth and tongue, tugging a little bit until Molly was gasping his name. When he sucked harder on her nipples, she was screaming for him. And when she came on his cock, holding his face against her breasts and shaking beneath him, Bob could hardly believe he'd been able to make her orgasm again.

"Molly," he gasped. "I love the way you shake."

"Oh my god," she moaned as he fucked her through her little tremors. But then she was sitting up, kissing his face, and Bob slipped out of her perfect warmth as she moved to kneel on his floor.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. She pulled her shirt over her head, and ran her hands up over his thighs. Bob's pants were pulled down to his knees, and Molly pushed them to his ankles before wrapping her pretty lips around his cock. She settled in between his legs, and Bob could only stare at her and try to memorize the obscene sounds they made together.

Molly was good at this. She was good at everything. Bob tried to keep up, but her mouth felt too perfect. And then she popped up onto her knees and started running the tip of his cock along those pretty piercings. "Molly!"

"You like that?" she asked coyly, but Bob was hypnotized by the look and feel of the barbells on his erection. With a soft groan, Molly squeezed her perfect breasts together, sandwiching Bob between them. He thrust himself up closer to her mouth, and sure enough, she parted her pretty lips and licked him. Bob continued to do this until he was grunting and Molly's saliva was dripping down her chest, making the sensations even more spectacular for him.

Slick saliva, wet breasts and Molly's mouth. "Oh!" he grunted, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as she sucked on him. But when she took his tightening balls in her soft hand and gave him a little squeeze, Bob came hard, without any warning. He watched in alarm as his cum spurted all over her lips and cheeks while she giggled. Molly jerked him off until he was gasping for air and wishing he had enough in him to coat her whole body, because it looked that pretty.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes, and Bob watched as his cum dripped down from her eyelashes, along her cheek and landed on her nipple piercing. Molly took his hand in hers and ran his fingers through the mess before guiding his hand up to her lips. She tasted him there and ran her tongue between his long fingers and across his palm.

"You made the mess," she whispered before sucking on his thumb for a beat. "Now you have to help me clean up."

"Gladly," he promised, nearly rocketing off the bed as she set his hand on her breast. Bob used his wet thumb to collect his cum from her piercing and then he let her take his hand between her lips again. But then he was on the floor with her, pushing her gently onto her back as she laughed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, but the words died on her lips when Bob licked his own cum off of her chest before kissing her and letting her taste it. He held both of her wrists in his hands above her head, and he was treated to the sights and sounds of Molly. She was rubbing her pussy along his soft length as she licked his cum from his mouth, and Bob just enjoyed making out with her on the floor. Everything tasted like him and smelled like Molly, and he listened to her soft laughter.

His hands and shirt were a mess of cum, and Molly's pretty face absolutely lit up for him when he whispered, "I like the way I taste on your skin."

"Bobby. You fucking deviant," she moaned, taking his face between her slightly sticky palms and leaning up to kiss his lips. She wrapped one leg around his waist to keep his body against hers, and Bob let his cheek come to rest on her chest. He'd never been called anything close to that before, but he could tell he'd lose himself in the moment with Molly over and over again like this if she'd keep letting him.

And then he blurted out, "You're not mad at me then?" while she combed her fingers through his hair.

She hummed in contemplation. "No, I'm not mad at you, Coach Bob. I'm pissed off at Bradley, and I'm trying to protect my family. But I'm not mad at you."

Bob sighed in relief and ran his fingers along her pretty tattoo. He had found it actually painful the way she'd been avoiding talking to him, but he could see where she was coming from.

"That makes me happy. And I can understand you wanting to protect them. They are where your loyalty lies."

"Don't fuck with my family," she whispered softly as she turned her head, and Bob glanced up at her as she swiped at her eyes. "I hardly have any left."

Bob could sense that she wanted him to change the subject, so he kissed her soft skin and said, "I like your tattoos."

She laughed sardonically and said, "Thanks."

"Did you get the carnation tattoos because it's your favorite flower?" he asked, running his index finger along the colorful ink.

"No," she told him. She was quiet for a moment, and Bob started sweating before she asked, "Did you know that there are different flowers that coordinate with your birth month?"

Bob had heard of this before. "Sure," he told her, wondering where she was going with this.

Her voice sounded a little rough, but her fingers were still soft in his hair as she said, "My parents were both born in January. Carnations were their birth flowers. That's why I have the tattoo. And kind of why I love the gas station flowers."

"Oh," Bob said, about to add that she didn't need to talk about it if she didn't want to. But then she rolled a little closer to him as he sat up, and she pointed to the other three flowers mixed in.

"The morning glory is for my sister's birthday. The chrysanthemum is mine. And the pretty red rose is for Everett's birthday in June. I got that one the day after he was born. It's actually my favorite one."

"It's beautiful," Bob told her, running his thumb along the chrysanthemum and meeting her eyes.

"Listen," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm protective of my sister. She took care of me when our parents both died. I moved in with her while she finished college. She shared her bed with me and made sure I ate. She sold my parent's house and gave me most of the money to pay for nursing school and a new, reliable car. And the fact that I can occasionally help her out a little bit now is really important to me. So if you think I need to castrate Bradley, you should probably just tell me now, okay?"

Bob laughed in spite of himself. "Maybe a kick to the nuts, but castration is probably not necessary, Honey. He's beating himself up enough, I can tell you that much. And I honestly think Bradley would jump in front of a moving car for Everett."

"See, now that's what I like to hear," she told him, sitting up and draping her arms around him. Her skin was a little sticky from his cum, and Bob let her push him back until he was laying on the floor underneath her this time. She settled her chin in his chest and looked up at him. "Now tell me when your birthday is, Lieutenant Cute Glasses. I want to know how your flower would look in my tattoo bouquet."

Bob could feel his cheeks warming up. She wanted to know what a tattoo in his honor would look like on her perfect skin. And now she was just lounging right there on him, naked as the day she was born and just completely flawless. And she was waiting, just like she always did. Waiting until he was ready to say what he was thinking, but never rushing him.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I have the most embarrassing birthday," he told her, and she cocked her head to the side.

"Oh," she sighed. "April twentieth?"

"No," he told her. "Worse. Leap day. February 29th."

"Oh! No, that's such a good one, Bob!" she insisted. "And your flower would be a violet. So pretty!"

But he just kept shaking his head. "Mo, you don't understand, Honey."

"Then explain it to me," she whispered, kissing his chest and stroking his skin.

"My name is Bob. B O B. Bob. I got the nickname Baby On Board during flight training a decade ago, because I was technically five years old...."

She blinked at him a few times before she burst into laughter. Bob waited while Molly rolled around on the floor, gripping her sides and gasping for air. "And technically how old are you now?" she managed to ask through her laughter.

Bob waited until she calmed down a bit more. "Eight."

"Eight!" she screeched. "Don't say that to me! We've had sex!" Her laughter had Bob chuckling too now. "How old would you be if you had a birthday every year?" she asked, eyes wide as she giggled.

"Thirty two."

"Thirty two! Perfect," she sighed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm not going to get arrested then."

Bob rolled his eyes and whispered, "I think a new flower would look pretty good in your bouquet."

And now Bob was thinking about a violet tattoo on her skin next to the other pretty flowers as Molly curled up on his bedroom floor with her arm wrapped around him.

---------------------------------

Bob without Molly....it just doesn't make sense. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 5

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#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd fic #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fluff #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #the curveball #batting practice

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writingdumpster · 4 months

Text

not afraid

pairing: Bob Floyd x gn!reader (no pronouns)

warnings: none

summary: kinda the opposite of the 1D song 'She's Not Afraid." reader is afraid of a horror movie. Just fluffy little fluff tbh.

word count: 1.2k

A/N: Sorry that I haven't posted in so long. I don't know how much more frequent it's going to be but for now I have some time off, so it might be a little more. Thanks to everyone who's been reading my work even without me making new content. Love y'all.

Bob remembered the day you asked him out as clear as day. You worked in his favorite second hand bookstore. He had developed quite the crush on you and had acquired stacks of unread books all over his apartment. Some of them he had picked up without giving them a second look and spent the rest of his visit making small talk with you. One pile was dedicated to the books you had recommended him. That stack didn’t have the dust that the others did sitting atop the books. It had been about a month of him visiting the bookstore a couple times a week.

The day you asked him out he had lingered in the mystery section of the store. He knew it was your favorite. He was waiting, hoping you would come and suggest another book that he could read while thinking of you. You always did. Today you didn’t though, you stayed at the counter. He thought maybe you were upset with him or that he had waited too long to make a move. He finally picked a book, one by an author he thought you had picked for him before.

“Hi, Bob,” you greeted when he got to the counter.

“Hi,” he replied. You smiled at the anxiety present in his voice. He was trying to come up with the words to ask you out as you scanned the book. He handed you his card in silence and you wrapped the book up in paper and handed him back his card. You smiled at him. He looked back at you, his mouth slightly open.

“Do you–um–I mean…” Bob blushed brightly. He looked down at his feet.

“Do you want to go out with me?” You asked him. Bob turned his head up to look at you.

“Go out with you?” He asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, on a date. There’s a movie based on one of the books you bought here coming out this weekend. I thought we could go and then get dessert at that place you told me about last week,” you said. Bob blushed bright red. You listened to the things he said. You remembered them. You’d clearly been thinking about him too. He was thinking all of this while he stared at you blankly. You tilted your head slightly at him and Bob shook off the shock.

“Yes. Definitely yes,” he spit out.

“Great,” you said, holding in a chuckle. “Give me your phone number. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out the details.” Bob walked out of the bookstore that night with bright red cheeks and a wide grin. He was thoroughly smitten by you and you adored his nervous energy. You didn’t mind making the first move if it meant that you got to keep making the nerdy WSO blush the way that he had the first time you helped him check out.

The next three months of dating him had granted you just that. You kissed him first on your third date. You were the one who dragged him into your apartment when you spent your first night together. You were the one who asked him to be exclusive with you. You were the one who said ‘I love you’ first. You were also the one who proposed going to the horror movie you were seeing that night. Nevertheless, you had been curling into Bob’s shoulder the whole way through the movie. When you walked out you were still clinging to him.

“Bob, you have to sleep over. I can’t sleep alone after that,” you told him firmly.

“‘Bob’ huh? No nickname, you must really be scared,” he teased.

“You didn’t think it was scary?” You asked.

“A little,” he shrugged. “I don’t believe in ghosts though.” He was clearly holding back a chuckle. You were constantly telling him the bookstore you worked in was haunted. You scowled at him.

“The bookstore is haunted. If you come help me on one of the night shifts you’ll see,” you told him. He smiled at you.

“I’ll come help you whenever you want,” Bob said. He was happy to go home with you. He had gotten slightly used to the way it felt to have you in his arms. He was considering taking up an interest in horror movies purely to land himself in more situations like this. He was enjoying the feeling of being the brave one for once. He had always been protective of you, but he had never seen you needing his protection either. You were the most confident and capable person he’d ever met. If you hadn’t been you never even would have gone on a date.

Bob noticed the way you were lingering around him as you got ready for bed. You kept the bathroom door open while you brushed your teeth so you could have your eyes on Bob. You followed him to the kitchen when he went to get a glass of water. Bob had climbed into bed while you were taking off your jewelry. You took a deep breath as you approached the light switch. You flicked the lights off and then sprinted the short distance to your bed. You quickly tucked yourself under the covers and curled into Bob’s arms. He let out a small giggle, his chest shaking against your head.

“What are you laughing about?” You questioned, turning to look up at him.

“It’s nothing, baby,” Bob said. You prodded him in the side. “You’re just so much braver than me about everything else,” Bob explained. “It’s funny that some CGI ghosts are what gets you.”

“It said it was based on a true story!” You defended as you snuggled closer into Bob’s chest.

“I think they just meant that house was real,” Bob replied. You huffed in his arms. Bob let out another light chuckle. He kissed the top of your head.

“You have to stay over tomorrow too, Bobby,” you whispered shyly. Bob smiled above you. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard you being shy about asking him for something.

“I can do that, sweetheart,” he assured you. You tightened your hold on him and nuzzled your nose against his chest.

“And you can’t let go of me tonight,” you requested.

“Of course not,” he said. “The ghosts can’t get you if I’m here right?” He joked.

“Nothing can get me if you’re here.” Bob’s heart skipped a beat. There was an honesty in your words that made him feel so warm. You trusted him to protect you. This whole time he had seen you as the brave one–the one who was leading the two of you. But there you were in his arms telling him that he was what you wanted to chase away your fears. You didn’t seem to realize what your words meant to Bob though. You let out a soft snore. He smiled to himself at the sound.

“I love you,” Bob whispered into your hair, despite the fact that you were asleep. To his surprise you shifted in his arms. You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his chest. When you spoke it was only a mumble but Bob knew what you were saying.

“Love you too.”

#bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x gn! reader #bob floyd fluff #robert floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert floyd fic #bob floyd imagine

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croimilis · 1 year

Text

King of My Heart

title: king of my heart

rating: 16+

characters: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (callsign ‘siren’)

words: 5.8k

themes: friends to lovers, idiot in love, fluff, mutual pinning

warnings: alcohol, cursing, minor injury detail (bruises, cuts), plane ejection, use of petnames (sweetheart), mentions of illness and parental death, mentions of needles, making out, mentions of anxiety

summary: "and all at once, you are all I want, i'll never let you go"

An accident during training and a little liquid courage has Bob finally making his move

tags: @sebsxphia

a/n: part of the fly me to the moon universe.

Falling in love with Robert Floyd was like standing in the eye of a hurricane, the world around you being torn apart at the seams and yet there is calm, serenity in the way he holds your hand when he’s nervous, in the way his eyes never leave yours when your talking, in the way he always makes sure to smile at you when you enter the room as a small way to say ‘hey, i’m here’ because he knows that despite your outgoing personality you can get overwhelmed in social situations and he wants to remind you that he’s a safe space where you can just sit in enjoy each other presence without committing to a conversation, in the way that he can read your body language and knows you better than yourself.

Realising you were in love Robert Floyd was like walking through a soft spring rain, you don’t realise how intense it is until you’re soaked through to the core, until the feeling is so all consuming you can barely breath and you feel it seeping through your bones, setting every nerve on fire until it settles deep in your heart and you suddenly know that is love.

It was five months ago that you realised you were in love with Bob, well, five months since your sister came to visit you at Lemoore and practically scolded you for not snatching Bob up because he was the perfect man. Five months since you insisted that you were just friends. Five months since he held you in his arms and let you cry your heart out over the fact that your fathers health was getting worse and you couldn’t be there.

Five months since your sister looked at you watching Bob one night and said to you, “He looks at you like mom looks at dad” and you had never known a purer love than your parents. Five months since you looked over at Bob and saw him already watching you, that soft smile he reserved only for you on his face, and the realisation came crashing down that you were in love with Robert Floyd. Five months since you decided you were going to do absolutely nothing about it, afraid of ruining the close friendship you had developed over the years.

Bob thought the realisation that he was in love would be electric, like every nerve would be set on fire, he thought it would be like getting lost at sea and being swept under by waves over and over unable to catch his breath. He thought love should be wild and alive, coursing through his veins like it was adrenaline.

But it wasn’t. It was peaceful and soft, seeping into the very fibre of his being, it was like being wrapped in a warm hug, of warmth and safety, of coming back to a warm house after walking through an endless storm, it was the feeling of you.

Of holding you close to his chest when you curl up together during a movie night, of the sound of your laugh and the brightness of your smile, of how your hand slips into his and gives it a gentle squeeze to reassure him that you're there beside him during any event.

It was two months ago that Bob realised he was completely and absolutely in love with you, two months since Phoenix practically smacked him across the back of the head when he started moping around the hanger when you told him you had a date (one you were going on in a half-hearted attempt to get over him) and explained to him why he was so upset about you going on a date.

Two months since Bob looked over to you in the hanger, working on your own plane smiling and laughing with your wingmen, and he thought to himself that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen with the way the sunlight filtering through the hanger danced across your body and made you glow so beautiful Bob could have swore you were a goddess incarnate, a flush spreading throughout his entire body with his heart thundering in his chest and the only thought flashing through his mind being, “I’m so in love you”. It was two months since Bob decided that he was going to take the realisation and the feelings and bury them deep inside himself, the fear of losing you as a friend overriding his desire to pursue you romantically.

It was 12 hours ago that the world crashed down around Bob, 12 hours since he had last seen you. 12 hours since you had to eject from your jet after an engine failure and were admitted to hospital for a check-up to make sure you were okay, 12 hours since his heart almost beat out of his chest and anxiety swelled throughout his body to the point it was painful and he felt like he was going to throw up, bile forming in the back of his throat every time he thought of you being hurt and alone in the hospital. He knew you hated them, hated the clinicalness of it all, hated the fake smiles doctors and nurses held. But most of all he knew you hated the memories that came with them, of your grandfather and, most recently, your father hooked up to machines, their eyes and bodies lifeless as they finally lost themselves to their illnesses.

He wanted to be with you, god he wanted to but Maverick had informed him no one was allowed in to see you and that you would only be in for a few hours while they ran some tests, some bloods alongside a CT and MRI to make sure you didn’t suffer from any internal injuries because on the outside you seemed completely fine, a few cuts and bruises from the landing but otherwise fine. Bob should have felt relieved at the news, but his anxiety only grew, despite being one of the best naval aviators that top gun produced and one of the bravest people he knew, he knew of your fear of needles and medical testing, again associating them with the failing health of your family members.

The anxiety grew and grew throughout the day, turning from a sapling into a horrible monster that wrapped its claws around his heart and squeezed until he was sure it was going to stop, that wrapped a hand or tail around his throat and squeezed so tightly that he thought he was going to pass out because of his inability to breath. The worry planted itself in his heart and spread its roots throughout his veins until he could feel it in every fibre of his being, the heaviness of it making it hard to move until he suddenly couldn’t, as if the roots had spread from the veins in his legs and out through the soles of his feet and wormed their way into the ground beneath him, knotting over and over under the hardwood of the hard deck floors so it kept him anchored, unable to take even a step away from the bar where he currently sat, a bottle of beer in his hands and an empty whiskey glass to the left that he had finished within his first few minutes of entering the bar.

Phoenix could see the tension in her back seaters shoulder’s, the way he sat hunched over with his eyes trained onto the grains of the countertops and how he was gripping the bottle of beer with all his strength (to the point she was afraid it was going to break in his hands), and it worried her. She had never seen Bob like this, not even when they flew the uranium mission did he hold this much stress in his body and she was concerned. To the point that she was quick to abandon the game of pool she was playing (and winning) against Hangman to go and see if he was okay. Which he obviously wasn’t if the way he jumped out of his skin when she placed her hand gently on his shoulder was any indication.

“Hey, you okay?”

As Bob’s nerves settle a little, the scare from Natasha’s sudden appearance dissipating and mingling with the anxiety already overwhelming his body, he puts the beer to his lips and gives a gentle nod. A nod that wasn’t all that convincing as Natasha raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest, showing she wasn’t leaving until he spilled. As Bob places the beer on the counter he sighs and dips his head forward a little so he’s once again staring down at the counter tops.

“Jus’ concerned about Siren s’all.” As Bob speaks a little bit of his southern twang slips through, something he was usually careful about, but the small amount of alcohol seeping through his veins alongside the anxiety makes him long forget about hiding his natural accent, and if Natasha notices it she says nothing and just nods her head. Instead, she leans on the bar beside Bob, propping her chin in her hand as she does.

“Hmmm… and that’s just friendly concern, right?” Natasha’s eyes watch Bob from her periphery, and she smiles as a blush spreads across his cheeks and some of the tension eases a little at her teasing, she didn’t really know how to help. She had never had a friendship like the two of yours, never had a love like what Bob held for you, but if she could take his mind off it for just a little bit then she could.

“Of course… of course… just friendly concern.” Natasha smirks to herself as she watched Bob down the rest of his beer, it was one of only two times she had seen the WSO drink the other time being the celebration after the success of the uranium mission and even then he limited himself to just a couple beers over the many hours of celebrating but here he was a whiskey straight and a beer already finished in the space of 30 minutes.

“Right…right.” A deep sigh falls from Natasha’s lips as she fully turns toward Bob once again, her hand still propped on her hand though now it was by her cheek instead of her chin. “You should tell her.”

Bob eyes Natasha suspiciously, the tension eased a little bit more as he orders another whiskey and Natasha a beer, “Tell who what?”

“Tell (Y/N) that you’re in love with her”

Bob nearly chokes on his own spit at Natasha’s words, his face growing redder than it was before, though it's hard to tell if that was from the alcohol or his embarrassment. He knew that Phoenix knew he was in love with you, she had been the one to point it out to him after all, but this was the first time she had encouraged him to actually say anything. Clearing his throat, Bob begins to pick at the label of the empty beer bottle in front of him.

“I can’t do that…” Though his voice is quiet, Natasha still manages to hear him and she offers him a sweet smile and squeezes him on the shoulder gently. She knew his fears, knew he was scared of losing you but she also knew how you felt. Had seen the way you looked at Bobby (you were the only one allowed to call him that) like he placed the stars in the sky himself and was responsible for the rise and fall of the sun every morning and night, how you always looked at him like he was the most interesting person in the room even as he rambled on about the jets and his systems (something that put most people to sleep). She knew you were as hopelessly and desperately in love with him as he was with you.

“Can’t do what Bobby?” Your voice surprises them both as they whip around and see you standing just behind them in your civies, your bomber jacket on and your aviators slipped into the neck of your shirt.

The sound of your voice is like the whiskey he was drinking, warm and honey smooth as it warms its way into his heart and spreads a heat through his body that burns the roots of worry that had made a home in his body and the sight of you, healthy and alive with a smile on your face that is reserved only for him, turns the monster gripping his throat and chest into something soft and fluffy and warm and suddenly he can breath again and can move freely, feet taking him one step closer to you and then another and then another until he’s standing within arms reach and all he wants to do is reach out and pull you into his arms and never let you go until the world falls apart around him.

“C-can’t handle my alcohol.” Bob lets out a nervous chuckle as Penny sets his second whiskey down behind him and rubs at his neck as Phoenix steps forward and takes you into a hug.

“Glad to see you’re okay Siren.”

“Thanks Nat.” Your voice is soft and there’s a little bit of strain to it, like you had been crying and your throat was still tender. To anyone else, it was the only indication you had been crying, your eyes bright and clear,no redness or puffiness around them. But Bob knew better, looked closer and could see the streaks that stained your cheeks no matter how much you tried to wipe them off.

Natasha gives you one last squeeze and a peck to your cheek as she pulls away, eyes drifting between your form and Bobs with a small smile as she steps back, “We’re in the usual place if you're up for joining us.” As she turns to walk back towards the group crowded around the pool table in the corner, Phoenix mouths at Bob “tell her” and gives your shoulder a gentle rub as she passes by.

You both smile at her as she walks away, eyes following her until she’s back with the rest of the squad before turning back to one another. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, all the stress and anxiety you had been harbouring all day bubbling to the surface once again and threatening to overwhelm you with tears once again welling in your eyes as Bob opens his arms up to you to bring you into an embrace. One you are quick to take, arms wrapping tightly against his torso and burying your head into his chest, taking deep breaths to try and try and stop the anxiety welling inside you, as Bobs wrapped his arms around your shoulder and places his chin on your head.

As you took deep breaths through your nose, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of Bob. His cologne is almost over powering but underneath the sharpness is the smell of him, of engine oil from working on the jet all day and the lingering smell of cloves and cinnamon buried underneath the harshness of the engine oil. It was strange but it was grounding and in combination with Bob's strong arms around you, applying pressure in the right places, the anxiety inside you starts to slowly melt away.

It starts in your shoulders, the tension in them all but evaporating as they droop a little and then it moves down your arms, a feeling of warmth spreading underneath your skin and through your veins as you feel your muscles relax, to your hands which spread themselves against the panes of Bobs back, and down down your spine, legs, and feet, as if it was dripping through your soles and into the floorboards below.

You're so focused on your breathing, on erasing your anxiety and worries that you don’t notice Bob gently rubbing his hand down the column of your spine and him whispering in your ear that you were going to be okay, but that was more for his own reassurances than yours. The weight of you in his arms, the pressure of holding you against his chest, the scent of your perfume and shampoo invading his senses all serve as a reminder that you were alive, that you were standing in front of him and you were okay. It settled any anxiety that remained in his system.

If Bob was being honest, he didn’t want to let you go, wanted to hold onto you for the rest of time. But he couldn’t, so instead he lets you go but keeps a hand on your arm as he leads you to the bar and moves it so it's sitting just between your shoulder blades as you lean on the bar and order a (preferred drink) from Penny, who gives you a sweet smile that lets you know she’s glad your okay and offers Bob a questioning glance as she notices the closeness between the two of you.

It wasn’t unusual for you and Bob to be close, unless your training or on base the two of you were never too far from one another but you were usually the one to initiate any kind of affection, be it a hug or having a hand on his arm or shoulder as you stood next to him, and the affection from Bob wasn’t unwelcome, you relished in it and enjoyed it every time he initiated it. But something about this was different.

It was soft and warm, and yet you could almost feel the desperation and fear behind it, almost as if you were going to disappear in a cloud of smoke between his fingers if he wasn’t touching you, if he couldn’t feel the sensation of your heart hammering against your ribcage (even if it's muted through your back). And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t so sure you wouldn’t disappear, even if it was just to an unwelcome headspace, if Bob wasn’t there grounding you to reality.

Bob wanted to ask how you were, if you were okay, what the hospital said, but one look at the slight dissociation in your eyes and he drops the thought, not wanting to distress you any further, instead her lifts his glass of whiskey and downs it one go which causes your eyebrows to shoot up as you looked at him.

“You okay Bobby?” The genuine concern lacing your tone sends butterflies coursing through Bob's body, his nerves tangling in his stomach until it felt like it was flipping over and over. You had your personal day of hell, and yet still found yourself worried about little old him. Bob loved your caring personality, he just wished you focused on yourself for once instead of other people.

Bob is quick to nod his head and place the glass back down on the counter, the burn in his throat and the heat of the alcohol coursing through his veins a welcome distraction from how he had previously been feeling, as Penny places your own drink down on the counter in front of you, accompanied by a shot courtesy of Maverick which you are quick down. The burning sensation is welcome and your body already feels lighter as it makes its way through your bloodstream.

“I’m good sweetheart” A blush spreads across your face, Bob had never called you sweetheart before and it felt so good coming from him, you associated the word ‘sweetheart’ with condescending men who thought they knew better than you or thought you owed them something, with them it was a weapon. A word sharpened at the edges and used to dig under your skin to cause annoyance or cause you to bleed for compliance. But with Bob, it was like whiskey, honey sweet and smooth, spreading a welcome warmth through your entire body.

You wanna question him, wanna know why he called you it, but he’s ordering another drink before you can, seemingly doing it by complete accident, just a slip of the tongue brought on by the whiskey he had downed, so you leave it. Instead lift your drink, taking a small sip as you turn and lean against the bar while waiting for Bob's third whiskey to arrive before you join the rest of the crew.

It's easy to find the rest of the dagger squad in the room of full of khaki uniforms, the tall forms of Rooster and Hangman easily standing out amongst the other aviators in the room, even if they weren’t the booming laugh of Rooster is loud enough for you to follow. You watch in amusement and the disbelief on Hangman's face and the pride on Phoenix’s as she stands from the pool table, she had obviously beat the tall blonde and you could see his mouth moving already demanding a rematch because there was no way in hell he was gonna let Phoenix have her win.

You smile to yourself and take another sip of your drink, jumping a little as Bob places his hand on your shoulder to let you know he’s ready to head over to the others. Though he’s quick to remove it given your response, but you can still feel the warmth of it even through your bomber jacket almost as if it was scorching your skin. You shake the feeling off though and instead follow behind Bob as you head towards the usual pool table with a smile on your face, giving everyone a tight hug as they greet you.

It’s three hours later that you move away from the crowd of aviators and towards a little corner to just watch them. You were a social person, enjoyed a good get together but sometimes things got a little overwhelming, a little too loud, a little too much and suddenly anxiety would crawl its way up your throat and take root and you would panic. You didn’t want that. Didn’t want to ruin people’s nights, especially with Maverick bringing his daughter in, just because you were a little anxious. So you took a step back, moved away from the source of the anxiety and attempted to soothe yourself.

Bob sees you’ve moved away from the crowd, he seems to be the only one who has noticed, the rest of the team too preoccupied with getting to know Mavericks daughter and so he was able to slip away and join you in your little corner. As he joins you, he notices your eyes are glazed over slightly and you look like your mind is floating a million miles away. He offers you a small smile and leans against the wall opposite you, content not to speak but be able to offer you some company, keeping you grounded to reality.

You offer Bob a soft smile and tilt your head towards the ceiling, taking a slow deep breath as you do to try and calm the anxiety that was threatening to boil over the surface. Bob reaches a hand out and runs it down your bare arm (your bomber jacket long abandoned and under the bar away from where it could get ruined), hands wrapping gently around your wrist before moving to lock his fingers with yours.

The feeling is grounding, bringing you back down to reality before your mind can spiral completely and you're lost in the waves of anxiety. Your skin feels warm where Bob’s touch lingered and you can feel your palm heating up and almost becoming clammy as he brings it up and holds it against his chest where you can feel the gentle beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out.

What you don’t know is a similar feeling is brewing inside Bob, his thoughts spiralling a little as the thoughts from earlier returned. About how he could have lost you, how absolutely terrified he was over the fact he could have lost you, how his heart got closer and closer to shattering into a million pieces the longer he went without seeing you and how all the cracks seemed to heal over the minute he laid his eyes on your form when you arrived at the Hard Deck that night.

You come back to reality, moved so you were no longer staring at the ceiling but instead looking at Bob only to see he was now floating away in his thoughts. You untangle your hand from his, placing it flat against his chest and giving it a gentle tap to draw his attention to you, “You’re floating away Bobby, everything okay?”

Bob cleared his throat and shook his head a little as if that would help dispel the thoughts swirling around them before he replies. “I-I… fuck” With the way you were looking at him, eyes all soft and full of adoration he hadn’t seen before and how you moved your hand away from his chest and down his arm to take his hand in yours and give it a gentle squeeze to ground him much like he did you, he knew he needed to tell you.

Bob was never poetic and he wasn’t very good with his words, with telling people how he felt about them. He knew what he was feeling, his mama made sure he was emotionally mature enough to identify his feelings, he just had a hard time vocalising them. This was no different, he knew he was in love with you. Had been for god knows how long before he realised it himself and he wanted to tell you. God, he wanted to tell everyone, wanted to climb to the highest mountain and shout it for the world to hear.

But fear ate away at his heart. Fear that you would think he was weird, that you would withdraw from him, that you would hate him, most of all he feared losing you completely. He would much rather have you in his life as just a friend than lose you completely. But with the alcohol coursing through his blood stream, the fear ebbed away and what was left was an overwhelming desire to let you know. He wasn’t sure where it came from, if he was to rationalise it in his sober mind it would be the fact that you could have died when you ejected from the plane and then you would have ever known, your ejection serves as a reminder that seeing the next sunrise wasn’t promised and he didn’t want to die, or see you die, without you knowing how he felt.

Bob's eyes dart from the floorboards to your face, your usual soft smile gracing your lips as you look at him questioningly, but never prying. You knew what Bob wanted to say was important, could see it in the tension forming in his shoulders and how the vein running along his jaw jumped, but you weren’t going to push. No, you trusted Bob and he trusted you, so you knew that it would come out eventually, be that five minutes or five years from now.

As Bob's eyes reach yours, for a second he thinks he can see the love he has for you reflected back at him, the same love Phoenix had insisted you felt for him, and it spurs him on as he steps closer to you. Your breath hitches as he does, a flush spreading across your cheeks as he stops so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“(Y/N)...I’m in love with you” The silence that followed Bob's declaration seems to go on forever, a pregnant pause as you let his words sink in. Your heart starts to flutter and your every nerve lights up, making you feel like you’re vibrating, heat spreads throughout your body as a flush turns your cheeks red. You're stunned, you never thought you would see the day where Bob Floyd loved you back, had convinced yourself it was impossible no matter what your sister had told you, but yet he does.

As you stand in silence, letting the shock course through your system, you search Bob's eyes for any hint that he was lying. That it was the alcohol in his system making him say things he doesn’t mean, but all you find is truth and love. The same love you had seen in your dad's eyes any time he looked at your mom, the same love your sister had spoken about when she met Bob all those months ago.

Bob takes your silence as a negative, the previous flame of confidence dwindling until it was nothing but embers burning in the pit of his stomach, suddenly he starts to stammer. Starts to say “You don’t-” going to tell you it was fine, you didn’t have to reciprocate his feelings that he just needed to tell you, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Bob! You place a hand to his chest, just over his heart and you can feel the beat of it against your palm and it feels like it's ready to break out of Bob’s ribs. Bob shuts his mouth tight, lips turning into a straight line, it had been a long time since you called him by his name, usually sticking with Bobby or even Robert when you wanted to tease him, keeping the name ‘Bob’ tucked away for when he was in trouble or you wanted his attention.

You step back a little, letting go of his hand in the process but keeping one on his chest, and throw your head back against the wall with a little huff of laughter. An action that leaves Bob speechless and confused, his mouth hanging open almost comically. Your quick to regain your composure and you tilt your head forward once again to look at him, tilting it to the side almost innocently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh”

Bob shuts his mouth and gulps at the sincerity of your words, adam’s apple bobbing as he does.

“I just… I have been dreaming about you saying those words for so long that it feels almost surreal to actually hear them” Bob swears his heart stops as he listens, you had been dreaming about this? The confusion must have been clear on his face, so you continue on.

“I’ve been in love with you since our first days at Top Gun Bobby.”

Bob stands like a gaping fish, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words to match your confession. After all he never thought he would get this far, thought you would run away at first mention of the ‘l’ word and yet here you are, loving him back. He’s drawn out of his thoughts once again by your voice.

“Bobby?” Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, and with how you have a hand on his chest with the other behind you to take your weight, you look the picture of innocence and sweetness and Bob can’t help but think about how he wants to absolutely ruin you, but that would be for another time. A new found sense of confidence, born from a compilation of your confession and the whiskey in his system, previously not experienced by yourself and the other pilots left behind at the pool table drives him even closer to you.

His hand reaches to grab at your waist, giving the flesh a gentle squeeze which forces a small whimper to fall from your lips, and the other ghosts against your jawline before settling on the corner of your neck. His chest presses against yours, he’s as close as he possibly could be and yet you want, no need him closer to you.

Yeah sweetheart?” His voice is husky and just that little bit deeper than normal, the southern twang he tries so hard to hide slipping through and sending desire flooding through your bloodstream to the point you have to hold back the whimper that is desperately trying to make its way past your lips.

“Kiss me…please,” your tone is pleading, almost begging and Bob swears it's the prettiest sound he’s ever heard and it sends desire fooding through his system. He wants to hear it again.

Instead of making you beg further, he tilts your chin up with the hand that was on your neck and slots his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. It's so soft and featherlight, leaving you desperate for more and after spending so long pining and wanting, you think you have the right to be greedy and demand more. So you remove your hands from behind your back and instead twist them around Bob’s shoulder, one hand tangling in the little baby hairs at the base of his neck as you push him in closer to you and deepen the kiss. Bob nearly moans at your eagerness.

The kiss is all tongue and clashing teeth, years of pent up frustration and wanting finally spilling over and showing itself, and Bob is gripping your waist so tightly you're sure there's gonna be some bruising tomorrow.

You pull away from Bob, just barely with your lips still ghosting over his and your noses bumping into one another as your foreheads touch, with panting breath and lust blown eyes. Your hands travel down from the nape of his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders to lightly grab at the flesh of his upper arms that are exposed in his service uniform.

“Take me home.” Your breathless from the kiss and adrenaline coursing through your system, with your words coming out barely above a whisper but Bob hears you and he moves his hand from your hip and neck to take your hand in his, using it to guide you through the sea of people now gathered at the Hard Deck. He stops at the bar and closes out both your tabs as you order an uber, not wanting to be driving even with the small amount of alcohol in your system. He guides you outside and pushes you against the exterior of Hard Deck, hands moving under your shirt to grab at the soft flesh of your waist as yours wrap around his neck and pull him down into another kiss and this time you don’t stop until the uber pulls up.

As the two of you make your way out of the Hard Deck, you miss the smiles from your fellow pilots (especially Phoenix) as they watch the two of you leave, giddy smiles on your faces and hands tangled with one another, happy to see you two finally getting together, and miss Hangman handing money out Phoenix and Rooster with a grim look on his face.

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withahappyrefrain · 1 year

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I’m just saying, Bob + taking off his wife’s shoes for her after a long day 🌻💛

This man makes me so lovesick, it's ridiculous. Here's something that I hope you can indulge in, sweet @spidervee

"Darlin'?" Bob's sweet voice called out from the kitchen.

"It's just me, love!" You responded as you put your keys on the key rack. The soft fur of your cats, Pastrami and Lox, brushed against your ankles as they greeted you.

Normally you would kneel down to pet them, but that was pretty hard with your stomach now a days.

It felt like all you did was look over at the nearby chair and Bob was suddenly in the living room.

"Hey Darlin'," he whispered before pressing a kiss to your cheek. His long fingers traced over your face, his cobalt eyes taking you in.

"Long day?" Bob asked, taking your work bag off your shoulder.

"I'm thirty-two weeks along with twins. Everyday is a long day," you chuckled, though it didn't make the look of concern on your husband's face disappear.

"C'mon, let's get you to the couch." One of his hands was now on the small of your back, the other grasping your hand as he guided you to the living room.

"Robby, I need to-"

"Dinner's in the oven. You can tell me all about your day while we sit on the couch, 'kay?" You knew better than to argue with your husband. Bob wasn't necessarily stubborn, but he had his way of guiding you to what was the better choice. He never made you feel small or childlike, and always kept in mind what you were comfortable with.

He quickly fluffed the pillows on your couch before you laid down, Bob pulling your feet into his lap.

"What are you- Robby!" You tried to sound irritated, but how could you when your husband was taking off your shoes and looking at you with those baby blue eyes (that you desperately hoped your children would inherit)?

It was impossible, especially when he flashed you that sweet, albeit slightly crooked smile of his.

Bob shrugged, "What? You said it was a long day! I'm just trying to help my beautiful wife and mother of my children."

Normally you'd scold your husband. You were pregnant, and yes, carrying twins was more difficult than carrying just one baby. But that didn't mean Bob had to do everything for you, like taking off your shoes.

But then your husband's magical fingers began massaging your swollen feet, and how could you complain about that when it was the first time you felt relief all day?

You couldn't. So instead, you sunk into the couch as the tension left your body. It made it easier to recount today's events at work and how your "morning except not really because it can happen anytime of the day" sickness lead you to almost throwing up in the middle of a meeting.

Bob leaned forward, his head hovering over your growing stomach.

"Are you two givin' your mama a hard time? Thought we talked about that." Bob shook his head in mock disappointment. A smile adored his handsome features at the sound of your laughter.

He looked up, eyes bright, beaming, and just so full of love for you. It took your breath away.

Bob's smile quickly disappeared, worry taking its place upon seeing your eyes begin to well up with tears.

"Darlin', what's wrong? You okay?" His low and gentle voice made it worse.

"I want," you sniffled, "I want to kiss you but I can't get up."

Bob did everything he could not to chuckle at your adorable pout. Instead, he got up from the couch, moving to where your head laid against one of your many pillows.

He flashed a sweet smile before leaning his head down to press his lips against yours. A content hum left your lips as your arms wrapped themselves around your husband's neck, keeping him in place.

"Better?" Bob asked softly, his lips grazing over yours.

You nodded before capturing his lips again, his large hands gently cupping your face.

"Can we stay here for a little bit?" You asked softly.

Bob chuckled, "We can do whatever you want Mama Bear."

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

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jupitercomet · 8 months

Text

summary - You should have known to question when Bob suddenly appeared in your bakery and made his place in your life—but, in your defense, his smile was so charming! Five dates in and he’s already swept you off your feet completely with his thoughtful nature and kind heart. But the question still remains: what do you actually know about him? And why does he always come back to you covered in bruises?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, Bob is 6′5″ because I said so, I roasted Mav in this a bit my bad, mentions of violence, “Bob” is kind of a stupid boxer name so I changed it, no use of y/n

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.6k

okay, here's the start of under the hard deck: rewritten! obviously some parts of it are going to be the same, I don't plan on scrapping all the chapters I've written. it's just that some of the characterizations/pacing/plot points are going to be different. anyway I hope you enjoy (for the second time)! - bugs

sweeter than sugar masterlist

Bob Floyd liked to think he was a good person.

He’s made mistakes of course—everyone has—but he has his morals and he sticks by them. His world is fast paced and, often, it was hard for him to feel grounded when everything seemed to be changing around him. So he took solace in one universal truth. He’s a good person.

He’s kind to his family and friends, a ray of light that could shine in any room. He’s a respectful son, making sure to remind his mom any chance he could how grateful he was for her sacrifices. He could make jokes and laugh, comfort and console.

But there’s an unrelenting pressure that comes with being a good person. A weight that couldn’t be lifted as he exhausted himself with the idea of what exactly it means to be inherently good. When he was a kid, his mom always used to read him a book called “Do Unto Otters”. It played on the saying “do unto others as you would have others do unto you”, a story about manners and treating people with kindness all told through the perspective of a rabbit and some otters. His mom would sit next to him on the bed, reading aloud with silly voices for each character, and Bob would giggle, and grin, and trace the illustrations with his index finger.

When the landlord came pounding on the door and called his mom names that Bob knew had to be insults, with the way they were laced with venom and dripping with malice, and all Bob wanted to do was yell back all the insults he knew, his mom would shake her head with a tired smile.

“Do unto otters, Bo.”

When the new kid at school didn’t seem to be fitting in and Bob felt like maybe he should invite him over to hangout sometime, his mom would kiss his temple sweetly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Do unto otters, Bo.”

And when dinner had finished and all the dishes had been put away and Bob really wanted some vanilla ice cream but he knew he’d already had candy at lunch, his mom would suddenly set down a bowl with two scoops and some sprinkles and wink at him as she took a bite of her own.

“Do unto otters, Bo.”

So Bob holds open doors for people, even if they’re on the cusp of being too far away for that to be expected. He says his “please”s and “thank you”s and tries to be polite. He gives up his seat on public transportation and has reusable shopping bags so he doesn’t have to use the plastic ones at the grocery store. Do unto otters. Be a good person, do good things.

But what does it mean to be good? What does it mean to put so much weight into the strangers in passing or the people constantly present in your life? Eventually you burn out. Eventually, you don’t feel good anymore. Eventually you do something, anything, that makes it so you look in the mirror and can’t defend yourself, and your whole self perception comes crashing down. It’s a lifestyle that no one can maintain, not even Bob.

Bob Floyd was a good person. Bob Floyd was a good person until, suddenly, he wasn’t. And it could all be traced back to the first time he ever stepped foot into Sugar Plum Bakery.

“Thanks.”

Bob sends back a small smile in response as the stranger quickens his pace slightly to catch the door Bob was holding open for him.

The air smells like buttercream and green apples, a combination that intertwines with Bob’s senses as he stuffs his hands in his flannel jacket. There’s a small line in front of him—and the stranger behind him too—all seemingly content as they wait for their turn at the register. From this view, Bob can make out some of the treats behind the glass. Cheesecakes and crème brûlées, cupcakes and macaroons, and a promising looking jelly filled danish fill its shelves, shining under the fluorescent lights of the case.

Someone brushes past Bob to get to the exit and he mutters out a quiet apology, taking a step forward to match the rest of the line. He isn’t sure what exactly drew him here in the first place, a quaint bakery tucked between a bookstore and a GNC, but his feet were leading him to the door before he could stop himself.

Of course Mickey would say it was because Bob ate so much sugar, all his teeth would fall out by 30—“How you put that much shit in your body and still look like that is a marvel to all scientists”. And then Bob would say, “This is what I get for trying to be nice to the new kid”. And Mickey would grin, “You’re just mad you still can’t beat me in Mario Kart”.

But maybe Mickey was right. Because here he is, having just left the gym, craving something sweet. The line moves again and Bob realizes it’s his turn, stepping closer to the register.

“Hi!” You pop up suddenly, smiling brightly. There’s a smudge of flour on your cheek, stipples of it all over your apron, and Bob's almost certain there’s some in your hair too. “What can I getcha?”

Bob smiles slightly, ducking under the brim of his cap as he scans the shelves. He clears his throat, “Um, what do you recommend?”

You bite your lip, eyes squinting as you appear to be sizing him up. It reminds Bob of his opponents in the ring—though their eyes aren’t nearly as pretty as yours—and it almost makes him laugh. It’s a look so similar except, instead of trying to figure out which side of your jaw is going to get shattered by his boxing glove, you’re trying to figure out if he’s a vanilla or chocolate person.

“Well, our cupcakes are usually a big hit,” you say finally and then light up as if remembering something. “We also have green apple tarts. They’re today’s special.”

Bob’s eyebrows raise slightly in agreement. “Today’s special, huh? Then I should probably get one of those, shouldn’t I?”

“It’d be sacrilegious not to,” you tease back, a smile growing on your lips.

Bob lets out a whistle, having to bite back a grin when you laugh sweetly. “Well, I can’t be disrespectin’ you in your own shop, can I?”

“No, sir,” you shake your head, quieting from your giggles as you press a few buttons on the register. “Will that be all for you today?”

Bob nods, watching you open the glass case with a piece of parchment paper in your hand as you grab a green apple tart. You box it up for him with skillful hands and Bob slides his credit card into the chip reader. It only takes one glance at you for him to confirm his 20% tip. You hand the box to him with that bright smile and—just like every romantic comedy Bob has ever watched with his mom—his heart stutters when your fingers brush.

“Have a good day!”

“Hey, I think that guy’s back.”

You set down the steaming hot tray of croissants on the stove top, sliding off your oven mitts as you turn to Eloise. “Ball cap guy?”

She smirks incredulously, tracing her upper canine with her tongue. “You’re telling me, you saw that fine specimen who’s so tall he has to duck under our front door and you’re only calling him ‘Ball cap guy’?”

“Oh?” You turn back to the croissants, pleased with their golden brown color as you move to transfer them to a different tray to bring up front. “And what would you call him?”

“Hottie with the body, America’s ass, God’s gift to women…” she lists them on her fingers unabashedly and you almost drop a croissant.

“Eloise!”

Your laughter fills the back kitchen and Eloise wiggles her brows at you.

When you first started working at Sugar Plum, you never expected you’d find your best friend in the girl with fiery red hair who was chucking cinnamon rolls at one of your coworkers when you’d walked in for your first shift. You found out later that it was because your coworker had been saying something rude about you.

“Brenda said she went to pastry school. Can you imagine how stuck up she’s gonna be? And she must not even be that good either, if she can only get a job at a place like this…”

Eloise had never met you—she didn’t even know what you looked like—but she’d had your back with some choice words of her own and probably a few too many cinnamon rolls. And when your boss Brenda confronted Eloise about the wasted treats your coworker had no doubt snitched about, you'd had her back too.

“I’m sorry, I slipped when I was holding a tray of them.”

The two of you had been best friends ever since.

“What?” She giggles, taking the new tray of croissants from you. “He is cuh-yute!”

You shake your head endearingly. “Okay, okay, I get it. Have you taken his order?”

“Don’t think it was a cupcake he was hopin’ for,” she looks at you knowingly and you feel slightly flustered at her implication.

He wanted to see you?

“Oh,” you try to put yourself together a bit, having been up since 5:00 to get everything baked in time for opening. “Do I look okay?”

Eloise scoffs, pushing you towards the front of the bakery with the hand that isn’t holding the tray of croissants. “You look cute as a button, honey. Now go talk to that man before I stick my claws in ‘em. You know he couldn’t handle me.”

You laugh, wiping your hands on your apron.

Ball cap guy sticks out like a sore thumb against the few customers in Sugar Plum, a head taller than everyone else even as his gaze is tilted down to look at his phone. He’s weaning another flannel jacket—this one is navy blue, the black checkered pattern hardly visible against the equally dark color—and a pair of black joggers that seem a bit too insulated for the nice weather you’re having. He’s still got on the same hat though, a black ball cap with an iron on patch of a white circle on the front of it. Embroidered inside the circle is a flying eagle that looks like it’s mid-attack.

At the sound of your laughter, he looks up, pocketing his phone, and he meets your gaze with an adorable raise of his hand.

“Hey.” His voice is kind of quiet—but you like that—coming from his chest with a bit of grit and you can already hear Eloise gushing about it in the back of your head.

You smile when he reaches the counter. “Hi. Back for seconds?”

Ball cap guy chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah actually. You make some real good pastries. My friend was mad that I didn't bring him any back.”

“Well, we don’t have any more green apple tarts, unfortunately.” Though you’re sure you don’t look very unfortunate with your large smile. “But today’s special is sweet pea cupcakes.”

“Sweet pea cupcakes?”

“They don’t actually have any sweet pea blossoms in them,” you confess, wiping your hands on your apron again. “We’re calling them that because the frosting looks like flowers… Sweet peas are poisonous, so that would be pretty dangerous if we made them with actual sweet peas. You can eat the vines though, they’re supposed to be good. But that would be kind of weird in a cupcake—”

You cut yourself off when you realize that you’re rambling, eyes widening slightly because what kind of weirdo uses plant facts as a pickup line?

“That’s really interesting. I didn’t know that,” Ball cap guy—for some bizarre reason—is grinning at you.

You bite your lip nervously. “Yeah, um, plants right?”

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Ball cap guy chuckles in agreement. “Plants right,” he echos. “I’ll take three nonpoisonous sweet pea cupcakes then.”

You nod, distracting yourself with adding up the total of his order in your head since Eloise was using the register with other customers. Ball cap guy keeps his eyes on you, looking almost nervous, though it wasn’t like he had anything to be embarrassed about. Trying to shake yourself of the mortification, you place his box of cupcakes on the counter.

“That’ll be—”

“What time do you get off?” He blurts suddenly.

You blink.

“Fuck, sorry,” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before letting out a breath and starting again. “I meant, if you want to, I was hoping that maybe you’d like to have a cupcake when you get off. With me.”

You’re sure you look like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Ball cap guy looks just as nervous, his hat casting a shadow down on his pinkened cheeks and his eyes meeting yours hopefully. You collect your bearings—only somewhat—nodding weakly until you can push your voice out.

“I, um, I get my break in an hour, if that’s not too long for you?”

Ball cap guy smiles. “I can wait, sweet pea.”

He moves to sit at one of the tables once he’s paid, box of cupcakes in hand, and you have to look away before your excitement becomes obvious to everyone in the bakery. When you turn, Eloise is shooting you a not at all subtle thumbs up.

For the rest of your shift, you have to avoid staring at Ball cap guy. A task that is not easy, so you settle for making sure he doesn’t catch you staring at him... You’re only mildly successful.

True to his word, Ball cap guy stays seated at one of the tables, scrolling through his phone and leaving the box of cupcakes untouched. You know that this technically counts as loitering and that, if Brenda were here, she’d demand that you kick him out. But Brenda’s not here and that man’s hands are probably bigger than your face and, for whatever reason, he’s interested in you, so she can suck it because he’s staying.

With that little act of defiance towards your boss fueling you, you manage to make it through the last hour before your break without deciding to hide in the kitchen and never come out. You’re sure you look a bit of a mess, covered in sweat, flour, and frosting, but it’s not like you really have time to clean yourself up. You do the best you can, washing up in the employee bathroom before taking a large breath.

Time to talk to Ball cap guy.

“Hey,” he greets you with a warm smile as you walk up to his table.

You slide into one of the chairs, trying to ignore how obvious Eloise is being as she stares at you. “Hey.”

“You hungry?” He slides the cupcake box over to you slightly, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “I heard the girl who makes these is really good.”

You can’t bite back your smile as you open the box carefully. “Oh, I heard she’s the best.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and then Ball cap guy looks down bashfully. “I’m Bob, by the way. I probably should have started with that.”

“It’s okay,” you shrug off, supplying your own name. “But it’s nice to finally put a name to the face. We’ve just been calling you ‘Ball cap guy’.” You laugh suddenly in recollection, “Or ‘God’s gift to women’, I guess.”

Bob, who up until this point had taken one of the cupcakes and peeled back the liner to take a bite, turns bright red, choking on the vanilla cake in his mouth. “God’s… God’s gift to women?” He asks slowly.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Your hand flies to your mouth when you realize what you’ve just said. “It was Eloise’s idea, I swear!— Not that I disagree! I mean—” Words fail you completely and you can’t even bring yourself to look Bob in the eye, letting your face fall into your hands. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s— That’s okay. That’s really nice of you to say,” Bob tries to console, but all it does is make you cringe. He’s quiet for a moment. “If it helps, I lied about coming back because my friend wanted something… Well, he did, but I was planning on eating his anyway. I just wanted to see you again.”

You peek out through your fingers slightly. “Really?”

“Really.” Bob chuckles, the sound deep and rich and coming from his chest, it almost makes you dizzy but in a good way—a very good way.

You let your hands drop from your face, a small smile playing on your lips as Bob takes a somewhat teasing bite of his cupcake. For a guy you barely know, he makes you feel weirdly at ease, a calmness about him that almost grounds you when you often tend to feel anything but. You really can’t think of any other guy you’d stick around and have a chat with after accidentally telling him that you call him “God’s gift to women”.

Normally an incident like that would have you bolting to the nearest bathroom to lock yourself in, but instead you reach for one of the cupcakes in the box, moving it to your mouth to take a bite of your own. Licking your lips of the buttercream frosting, you set your cupcake on the table.

“So what do you think?” You gesture to the treat.

“Really good,” Bob nods earnestly and then something mischievous lights up his eyes. “I also enjoyed the botany lesson that came with my purchase.”

You do your best to look annoyed, though you’re hardly successful, a smile breaking through your scowl. “You should have. I don’t give those to just anyone, you know.”

“I feel extra special, then.” This time, Bob isn’t teasing, looking up at you from the brim of his cap with a soft smile.

And truly it’s that look you have to blame for the fact that you’re practically melting like butter, stomach swarming with butterflies. “You should,” you say quietly, trying to hide all the heat rising to your cheeks.

Bob looks like he wants to say something else, but then his phone is buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up. He spares it a quick glance before his eyes widen slightly and he grabs it quickly.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I have to go.” He’s looking at you like he’s praying you won’t be upset with him and, really, you’re not. The man waited an hour for you to get your break, you certainly can’t fault him for having other plans.

“It’s okay, I understand,” you assure him, getting up with him as he rises from the table. You watch him fumble with the cupcake box before looking down at your fingers shyly. “I, um, I really enjoyed this.”

Bob straightens, relief washing over his features when he turns to look at you. “I did too. Are… Are you working tomorrow?”

“I am.” You confirm.

There’s an unreadable look on Bob’s face suddenly, his brow slightly furrowed. You’re about to ask him if everything’s okay, but before you can he’s taking a step forward, his Timberland boots creaking against the floorboards. His large hand—the one that makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl just thinking about—raises up, anchoring itself delicately on your check. Tenderly, his rough thumb swipes against the corner of your mouth, taking with it a small dollop of buttercream.

His hand lingers for a second longer than necessary, his eyes transfixed on yours, and for a moment the air feels charged with electricity. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, sweet pea.” Bob lets his hand drop, sending you one last smile before he starts making his way out of Sugar Plum.

You can only stare at his retreating figure, brain practically short-circuiting as you try to process what just happened. Did it even happen? Or is this man just so attractive that he’s actively causing you to hallucinate? When you turn around, Eloise is staring at you, jaw dropped and lips pulled into a wide, open-mouthed smile.

Okay… so that did just happen.

Bob Floyd liked to think he was a good person.

He always tips at restaurants. He calls his mom every Sunday and texts her frequently throughout the week. He has a recycling bin. And compost.

Once when Mickey got sick, Bob drove to four different CVSs just to get the kind of cough medicine he liked. He always puts back his weights at the gym and wipes down the machines he uses. He’s a good person.

But there’s an unrelenting pressure that comes with being a good person.

“—box?”

The word faintly makes it through Bob’s music, a sudden alert that someone is speaking to him, and he stills. His knuckles are tender under his wraps, grateful for the reprieve. Bob looks up from the bag, pulling out one of his headphones.

“Sorry?”

Before him is a shorter man, looking at him like he knows some joke that Bob doesn’t. His black hair is pomaded almost straight upward, stiff and brittle, perhaps in an effort to look taller. It’s dark too, all encompassing in its saturation. He dyes it, Bob realizes.

On his wrist is a thick, gold watch. It catches the light shining in from the gym windows and glistens in sparkles that scream its extravagance. Aside from the watch though, every other item on the man’s person seems muted. He wore a long sleeve black button up, rolled to the elbows, and had left a few of the buttons undone, revealing just the beginnings of his salt and pepper chest hair. He definitely dyes it. His slacks were about the same—a reddish brown, form fitting, expensive.

Bob thought he looked like he just walked off the set of The Godfather.

“I asked if you box,” the man repeats, gesturing to his wrapped hands. “You have good form.”

Bob looks at him wearily. “Thanks.”

As if understanding this current approach is proving unsuccessful, the man sticks his hand out.

“I’m Pete. But you can call me Maverick.”

“Bob.” Bob gives it a single shake.

Maverick grins. “You don’t talk much, do you Bob?”

“No, sir.”

Bob knows he’s being slightly rude, standoffish at the very least, but it was hard to get a read on Maverick. Clearly, he wanted something. Bob just doesn’t know what.

“I like that,” Maverick decides, before gesturing his head towards the punching bag. “Where’d you learn to box like that?”

Bob shrugs. It had been Mickey’s idea, insisting that Bob needed a hobby before he turned into a mole. He’d signed Bob up for a boxing lesson without his knowledge, telling him to just try it. Hit something, break something.

Ultimately, Bob found that he enjoyed the lesson, signing up for a few more, before he decided to continue pursuing boxing recreationally. His instructor would probably throw a fit if he knew Bob tended to box without gloves, but he preferred free movement of his hands.

“Just picked it up,” Bob says finally.

Maverick seems impressed by that, his brows raising, and then his mouth twitches into a smile.

“You ever think about fighting, Bob?”

There’s a weight that can’t be lifted as he exhausts himself with the idea of what exactly it means to be inherently good.

“What do you think?” Maverick asks. “There’s a rush, right?”

Bob looks down at his hands—his gloves, rather—and stares at them wordlessly. He can still feel it. The windup, the contact, the follow through. It’s weird to him, the fact that these gloves are the reason a man a few feet away from him is sporting a purpling bruise on his cheek bone.

One fight. That was what Maverick had said. One fight, just to see if he liked it. No stakes, no pressure, just a one and done deal. One fight.

“Damn, man,” his opponent, Brigham, is grinning as Bob looks up. “You’ve got a mean right hook.”

Maverick laughs. “I told you not to underestimate him.”

That catches Bob slightly. I told you not to underestimate him. Though Bob loves his mom more than anything, sometimes he felt that she was too good at hiding. She thought it was better that way, that it helped avoid problems. To take it, and take it, and take it, and never wonder if maybe you shouldn’t. And so Bob hid too.

Sometimes, when his mom is quick to wipe her tears when Bob catches her after the landlord stopped by, or Mickey rolls his eyes at a group of preppy college boys that just dined and dashed, Bob can’t help but wonder if his mom was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t “do unto otters as you would have otters do unto you”. Maybe it was “do unto otters as they’ve already done unto you”.

Maybe if Bob had done that to the landlord, he’d stop making his mom cry. Maybe if Bob had done that to those preppy college boys, Mickey wouldn’t have to shrug it off with a “People tip pretty good at Charlotte’s anyway”. Maybe if he’d never taken it, and taken it, and taken it, and actually stopped to wonder if maybe he didn’t have to, they wouldn’t have had to take it either.

“Look, kid,” Maverick’s hand is on his shoulder, pulling Bob from the curious weight of his gloves. “You’ve got fight, I could see that the moment you stepped into my gym. You wanna do more than hit some flimsy, old bag a couple hours a week, it’s obvious.”

Bob swallows. Do unto otters, Bo. And what had that made him? Some sorry sucker who couldn’t do anything when it mattered. Who sits on the sidelines and hides, and makes up for it with reusable shopping bags and a few manners.

“How much would you pay me?”

Maverick chuckles. “You’re smart, Bob. I’ll give you that.”

But Bob isn’t a little kid anymore. He no longer has a book about rabbits and otters, manners and kindness to tell him what to do anymore. All he has is this question. This blank space. What does it mean to be good?

“You’re late,” Adler grunts as soon as Bob steps through the locker room door.

“Got caught up with something.”

Adler scoffs in disbelief, before a small smile fights its way onto his face.

Bob had always liked Joe Adler. He pretended to be all big and bad, with the mouth of a sailor and the boxing history to back it. But he was a softie deep down, the kind of guy that made Bob feel slightly better about his occupation. Because if Adler could come out of it all a good man, Bob could cling to that hope for himself a little longer.

“Alright, I know Mav always wants you to milk it,” Adler helps Bob slide on his gloves, a teasing glint in his eye. “But I wanna go home, so knock the motherfucker out fast, yeah?”

Bob’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Georgia makin’ meatloaf tonight?”

“You bet your ass,” Adler snorts, giving Bob one last once over, before the announcer's exaggerated cadence could be heard through the door.

Bob glances at it, before looking back to Adler and the older man nods. Bob shakes out his arms one last time, taking in a breath as Adler opens the locker room door for him.

“Give ‘em hell, Grim Reaper.”

I do not have a taglist but you can follow my library @jupitercometgold to be notified when I post

#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd imagines #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd angst #bob floyd au #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd imagines #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd angst #robert floyd au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #sweeter than sugar #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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vivwritesfics · 20 days

Text

Grow Old With You

Bob didn't want to introduce his girl to his squad. But she was his fiance and he did want them at the wedding. When Hangman tries it on, Bob knows she really is the one

This is so fluffy I love him sm

She squeezed his hand. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered to him.

When Bob turned to her, she fixed his hair and gently pushed his glasses up his nose. He shook his head and squeezed her hand. This was something they had to do, he knew it.

After he had been called back to Top Gun, Bob had been permanently stationed in San Diego (aside from deployment). He and the rest of his squad were kept together, ready at a moments notice to be called back to Top Gun.

After two months of living there, the most beautiful woman knocked on his door. Her car had broken down and her phone had no battery. Bob was only too happy to help. She'd introduced herself abd he introduced himself right back. Except he introduced himself as Robert. Nobody called him Robert.

"But you can call me Bob," he said quickly, correcting himself. Bob had offered her something to eat while they waited for the tow truck to arrive.

They'd spoken a lot in that time. She found out he was a Weapon Systems officer and she was fascinated. It was easy to lose track of time with Bob.

Before she knew it the tow truck was pulling up outside. While the mechanic hooked her car up, she wrote down her phone number and left it on his kitchen table, praying he would call her.

She didn't tell him she had left it. Bob couldn't help but regret not asking for her number as she climbed into the tow truck. He should have gone with her, he thought instantly. Or, at least driven her there himself.

But it was too late, and he doubted he'd ever see her again. Sighing, he headed back into his house. He didn't notice the little piece of paper on his table at first, walked past it at least four times before he finally saw it.

And, when he did see it, he immediately saved her number to his phone. He didn't text or call right away, but he didn't know how long to wait.

This wasn't his department. This was something Hangman and Rooster usually did. Part of him was itching to ask them for advice, but he wanted to keep her to himself. God knows as soon as Hangman and Rooster found out about her, it would be game over for him.

The WSO looked at his future wife, at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He could do this. For her, he could do this.

Bob lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Ready," he said and pulled her towards The Hard Deck.

He couldn't very well message Rooster and Hangman, he knew that. But there was one person he could ask for advice. Nat was only to happy to help Bob with what to say. She gave him flirty lines to text to her.

But, the more that Natasha sent to him, the more things didn't feel right to Bob. He couldn't send any of these. 'You can take a ride in my cockpit ;)' and 'Are you a tarmac? Because my heart wants to land and stay with you' especially didn't feel right to him.

Bob thanked Natasha for her help, but he didn't take it. No, three days after he had met her, three days after she had left her number on his kitchen table, Bob finally messaged her.

'Hey, it's Bob'

That was all his text said. Anxiously he waited for her to text back. What if she doesn't? What if she was just being polite? What if she'd already forgotten about him?

'Hey, the WSO, right?' She had texted back. 'I was beginning to think I wasn't going to hear from you, haha'

The way Bob's heart was beating, he couldn't believe it. She was interested, and she had been waiting for him.

Bob felt the blush raising to his cheeks as he typed back a response. They texted through the afternoon, only stopping because they needed to sleep. The conversation ended with her asking him over for dinner, to repay for how he helped her when the car broke down.

The music didn't stop when they walked in. That would have been dramatic, but very fitting, thought Bob. But, the way all if his squad was staring at him, the music might as well have stopped.

She squeezed his hand and he started forward, taking her over to the squad. Only Natasha knew of her existence and, as much as Bob wanted it to, he couldn't keep things that way.

The dinner was the first date of many. Neither of them had known it was a date, not until much later in the relationship. There was a second, and then a third. On the third they found themselves on his couch, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

It was maybe two months after that third date that they realised the first dinner they had was their first date. But Bob already had the date memorised.

Bob had let her set the pace on their relationship. She was the one who had him wrapping his arms around her, she was the one jumping into hid arms after days apart and kissing him softly.

Four months of this and Bob realised that he wanted to grow old with her.

"Who the hell have you got there, Baby On Board?" Hangman called. He wasn't looking at Bob, concentrating on the woman stood beside him. As he usually did when facing a gorgeous woman, Jake wore his killer smile.

"Shut up," Natasha said to him as she strode forward. "I'm Nat, its nice to finally meet you."

Although this was her first time meeting them, Bob had been sure to tell his girl all about them. As they cooked dinner together, moving in tandem around the kitchen, he'd tell her about their first time at Top Gun, when they were all called back for a mission.

They were stories she'd never get bored of hearing. Her Bobby, the weapon systems officer.

They introduced themselves to her. One by one she shook their hands grinning at them. Bob couldn't help but feel slightly protective as she shook Bradley and Jake's hands.

As the game of pool resumed, Bob sat himself on a stool and pulled her into his chest. His hands settled over her stomach and she leaned against him as she spoke to his squad.

After a good few minutes, Bob hopped up from his seat. "I'll get us some drinks," he said and kissed her cheek. She squeezed his bicep as he walked to the bar.

As soon as Bob was out of sight, Jake came walking towards her. He was the only one she recognised from just how often her Bob complained about him. "What did Baby On Board do to get a pretty thing like you?" He asked as he leaned against the wall beside her, towering over her.

She stared at him, clearly unimpressed. "Uhm, he's sweet, lovely, a perfect gentleman and incredibly hot," she said as she looked towards the bar, searching for her Bobby.

But Hangman wasn't giving up. "Okay, so what do I have to do to get a girl like you?"

She reeled of the list she had just given him.

"Okay," he tried again, leaning closer. "What do I have to do to get you?"

She rolled her eyes. Finally Bob came back and passed her a beer. "Thank you, Bobby," she said and kissed his cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. She turned her attention back to Jake and held up her hand, revealing the ring on her finger.

"Oh," Hangman said and backed away.

Bob grinned and leaned down to kiss her. This was the woman he was going to spend his life with.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x you #top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick

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aestheticpearl · 2 years

Text

— (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞) 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

[𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫] bob floyd

“so this is a routine thing you do every night before i get home?” bob questions looking up as you apply the moisturizer under his eyes. he loves spending his time with you in anyway he could, even if that meant doing your skincare routine on him and yourself at the same time.

“mhm” you hum to him as you rub in the product onto his already soft skin. “seem like you don’t need to do it as much since your skin is already perfect” he laughs at you and it’s your favorite sound to hear, like christmas bells when you were a child.

“i think my skin is far from perfect, i think is gets a little too oily”

“oh i have a product for that!” you check through your line up of skincare and grab a serum and start applying it to his forehead. bob’s staring at you again with that stupid look on his face for the fifth time tonight.

“sugar bear you are staring again” you bite back a smile while squishing his cheeks together.

“i’m just awestruck that you’re mine” he moves your hands off his face by gently tugging your wrist and pulls you down for a soft kiss.

“you can’t say stuff like that while i’m doing my skincare, i get too flushed” you can feel your face grow hot and you know it’ll stay like that for about a minute or so.

“just sayin’ how i feel that’s all” you straddle his lap and continue to apply the product on his face and his hands wonder find your waist. “i love you y’know”

“i know honey, i love you too” he kisses you again before you continue. “hey now you rascal, do you want your face to be fresh and soft or not?”

“right right, i apologize for interrupting you with my needy acts of love” you giggle at him and he smiles fondly at you, your smile is one of his favorite things about you.

“one more and that’s it until i finish your skincare” he kisses you deeply without hesitation.

“deal” your face flushes again.

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

feelin’ a lil generous tonight ;)

.love always <3 pearl

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#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fluff #top gun bob #top gun drabble #robert floyd imagine

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mothdruid · 1 year

Text

A Snowed In Baby Bird

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader

summary: you and bob are childhood best friends, your families being friends before you both were born. a storm rolls in at your families shared cabin, that the two of you volunteered to lock up. now the two of you are stuck, but is that really a bad thing?

wc: 4.4k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, alcohol use, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, blow job, pet names (baby bird), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.

a/n: we've gotten two out of three winter storms in michigan so far this week! we currently have six inches of snow and are supposed to get six more this friday! so i was inspired to write a snowed in fic! this was also lightly based on a twitter porn video.

“Well, fuck.”

The weather outside was getting progressively worse. The wind was picking up, whipping around the thick white flakes of snow outside. It was practically a blizzard. Something that you would have seen in a movie and definitely didn’t feel confident driving back in. And you didn’t want to pressure Bob into driving back in this weather.

“What’s up?” Bob asked, walking over and stopping behind you.

“The storm showed up early.”

Yeah, the two of you knew about the storm. But it wasn’t supposed to show up for another three hours. Or at least the last you checked it wasn’t supposed to.

“That doesn’t look good.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Might as well get a hold of our parents.” Bob said, turning to go search for his phone.

Both of your families had left earlier that day, leaving the two of you alone. You two had volunteered to lock up, not wanting the rest of the family to be held up. After spending the whole weekend with each other's families, you two really wanted to take this time to catch up. You two had hoped to get alone time this weekend, but your families made it borderline impossible.

Your family and Bob’s had been close for years. Neither of you knew how or when your parents became best friends, but you both remembered each other from day one. Bob was only a few months older than you, something he always boasted about when you two were kids. You were a little surprised when he came home this time.

He was a little different, not the shy Bobby you grew up with. He was more confident and composed now, college having changed him. He had goals he was aiming for now, flight school being his driving force. A part of you was beyond proud of him, but it was still worrying watching the person you had loved for years take off without you.

You had never confessed that you loved him to anyone. You had always assumed it was some type of childhood crush, affection towards the first person who was kind to you. But then it never went away. Even when you both left for college, your heart ached at the loss of contact. The texts never stopped, the occasional video call every now and then, but it was just never the same.

“Yeah, ma. We know, we know. Yeah. Love you, too.”

You watched Bob pace back and forth around the living room, texting your own parents that you two were stuck at the cabin due to the storm. You bounced your leg lightly, a little anxious about the new predicament. There was barely enough wood for the wood stove to keep the cabin warm through the night. You leaned back into the couch, watching Bob hang up and walk over to you.

“You good?” Bob nudged your leg with his.

“I mean, kind of?”

Bob plopped down next to you, setting his phone on the coffee table. You mimicked the action, placing your phone on the coffee table.

“Getting snowed in wasn’t on my trip checklist.” You joked.

“Mine either.” Bob said, smiling at you. He wrapped an arm behind you on the couch, adjusting his glasses as he looked at you.

The two of you sat there for a moment, contemplating what to do next. The two of you decided that you would stay downstairs, not wanting to burn through all the wood trying to heat the entire place up. Bob offered to sleep on the couch, letting you take the only downstairs bedroom.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get too cold.” You said. The urge to say you would just share with him was strong, but you decided to tuck that away.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll just sleep in a sweater or something.” Bob chuckled. He stood up, moving to the wood pile near the wood stove.

You watched as he opened the front of the stove, taking a log and placing it inside the stove. A part of you wondered about how his arms looked under his sweater. The knit material hid the way his biceps flexed when he picked up each log. Bob had always been lean and fit, but you knew that since he was headed to flight school he might have started working out.

A heat started to bubble inside of you, still watching him. You could see a small rosy tint on his cheeks when he looked back at you. You gave him a small smile, getting up and heading to the open kitchen. You sought out two shot glasses and a bottle of fireball. If the fire wasn’t going to warm you up quickly, this definitely would.

Bob had moved to the fireplace when you returned to the living room. You watched as Bob got the fireplace lit, cracking open the bottle of fireball. He looked back as you filled one of the glasses with amber liquid, setting the bottle down before throwing back the shot. The liquid seared your throat as you felt it travel down, settling in your stomach.

“Fireball?” Bob asked, watching you pour another shot. “Are we in high school?”

“Says the one who didn’t drink til he turned twenty-one.” You threw back the second shot quickly, grimacing lightly.

“Sorry I was following the law.” Bob joked, tossing his hands up in a defensive way. You watched him grab the bottle and pour his own shot.

“Always being a good boy, aren’t you Bobby?” You teased.

Bob rolled his eyes, throwing back his own shot. The bob of his adams apple caught your attention. Your tongue ran over your lips, watching his lips detach from the shot glass. The shots in your stomach were starting to warm your body, adding a light haze to your brain. You weren’t sure when he had started watching you, but when your eyes caught his he blushed, looking away swiftly.

After the both of you downed a few more shots, you had finally started to catch up. You learned that Bob had got a close knit friend group at college. The group helped him push himself, going out of his comfort zone and learning more about what he was comfortable with. Bob had learned that you were still sporting a high GPA, even with graduation right around the corner.

“So, you heard about flight school?” You asked, pulling a blanket you had found further up your body.

“Yep, got accepted.” Bob nodded, holding another shot up to you as a toast before throwing it back. The bottle of fireball was almost empty now, maybe only a handful of shots left in the bottle.

“Congrats! Baby bird got his wings!” You squealed. Excitement with a tinge of sadness flowed through you, knowing that naval flight school would be hard. It would put him further away from you, making your heart ache. But you knew the two of you would make it through, just like you did with college.

“I haven't got 'em yet.” Bob said, looking at you with a bit of a sad look.

“What’s that look for?” You questioned, afraid you might have said something wrong.

Bob shrugged as he crossed his legs, grabbing at his pants leg now. He looked so small now, like that kid you grew up with. The kid that was always making sure that he had enough to share with the class. The one who always made sure that nobody was left behind in the line or fell behind in class. You thought about the one time he found a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest, which really upset him when he found out it couldn’t be put back. The incident that earned him the nickname ‘baby bird’ from you.

“It.. it’s nothing.” Bob whispered, trying to give you a small reassuring smile.

“That’s a lie.” You stood up, pointing down at him. “You have to tell me.”

Bob stared at your finger, leaning back a little bit. He was a bit perturbed at your action. His face scrunched up, eyes squinting to look at you. You watched him adjust his glasses, a part of your throat went dry as you watched him. Eventually, he swatted your finger away, pulling one knee up to his chest.

“Why do you want to know?” Bob questioned.

You made your way around the coffee table, moving to your knees in front of him. His cerulean eyes were deep pools of emotion, hiding something you couldn’t see on the surface.

“Because you’re my friend.” You reached out for his hand, feeling his soft skin against your own. “If something is bothering you, I’m here for you. You can talk to me.” Emotion had started to take over your face.

Bob could feel everything bubbling inside of him. It was all settling in his throat, threatening to break out. He had thought about his fears for a while. Being shipped off to the other side of the US, away from everyone he knew and loved. Away from you. The two of you weren’t together now, but a three hour drive was much more bearable than an almost day long drive.

“I’m scared about leaving. Being away from everyone.” Bob figured now was better than never. “Not having anyone I really know around. Not having anyone to lean on. Not having you.” Bob’s hand tightened around yours, the alcohol giving him confidence. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

Your heart ached at his words. All the shots of fireball were making his words confusing. It felt like a confession, but you weren’t sure of what. Without thinking you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his.

“I’m not leaving you though. I’ll always be here.”

Bob brought his free hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. You watched his eyes flick down to your lips, tongue moving to wet his lips. You scanned his face, taking in his now bright red cheeks and ocean like eyes.

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, softer than you ever imagined. You tightened your hand in his. The movement was gentle, his lips softly moving on yours. It wasn’t pushy or desperate, more refreshing than any other kiss you had experienced. The hand on your cheek moved a little bit, sliding to cradle the spot right below your ear. Bob pulled back from you, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Is this okay?” Bob whispered.

“More than okay.” You nodded, feeling his glasses move with your motions.

The two you reconnected, a little bit more passion behind the kiss now. You let your years of emotions start to pour into it, giving him everything you had to offer. Bob doing a similar thing, letting all of his hidden emotions come to the surface. He let go of your hand bringing it up to the other side of your jaw, keeping you in place as he kissed you. The small wire frames of his glasses could be felt against the plush of your cheeks.

“Let’s move to the couch.” You whispered, kissing him lightly before standing up.

Bob moved over to the couch, sitting on it as he watched you saunter over. You placed a knee on each side of Bob, settling in his lap. Bob’s hands moved to your waist, lightly settling but not grabbing or applying pressure. You rolled your hips down onto his, feeling his semi-hard cock in his jeans. Bob leaned his head back into the couch, reveling in the feeling of you grinding against him. His eyes were focused on you, watching your hips roll against him. His chest was already moving heavily, each breath filling his lungs to the brink.

You gripped the back of the couch, rolling your hips as you felt his hard-on grow against your ass. He closed his eyes and parted his lips, breath passing quickly as you rocked against him. You felt your sweater tighten around your waist. You looked to see Bob’s hand tight on the material of your sweater.

Heat was starting to pool in your abdomen as you rocked against him. You pressed your chest against his, latching your lips onto his neck. A gasp left Bob, his blue eyes opening wide. His hips rocked up into your grinding motions, pulling a whimper from him. Soft noises started to pour from him when you sucked the spot below his ear.

“Can I ride you?” You asked.

You could feel how hot and wet your panties were as you rocked against him. It was barely anything, but god was it getting you ready for him. You felt like a teenager in high school during your first make out session. But the one thing you couldn’t get past was Bob not touching you. Did he actually want this? He was the one that asked you if it was okay? Maybe he changed his mind?

“Please.” Bob said, leaning up and trying to capture your lips again.

You gave him a small peck before climbing off of him. He watched you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down and kicking them to the side. Bob clenched the cushion of the couch, his other hand moving to lightly rub over the bulge of his jeans. He was watching you with such devotion and innocence, making you wonder if he had ever even lost his virginity.

“I’ve got a question for you, baby bird.” You asked, slipping your hands up the back of your sweater. You unhooked the clasp of your bra, bringing your arms in to take your bra off. “Have you ever,” you let your bra drop from under your sweater, “thought about this?”

Bob swallowed as he watched you. You stood before him in just your underwear and knit sweater. It was driving him crazy, thinking about your nude form underneath the sweater. The way your nipples must have perked up when the material of your sweater brushed them. He almost forgot about the question you asked him. He nodded eagerly once he remembered your words.

“Another question.” You settled on the floor in front of him, hands moving to his belt. “Have you ever, ya know?” Your fingers unlooped his belt, pulling it out from his pants. Your fingers swiftly undid the button to his pants.

“Yeah, it’s just been a while.” Bob quietly said, lifting his hips as you started pulling his pants down his legs.

“That’s okay, I promise to take it easy.” Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, easing them down his thighs.

Bob sighed when his cock was freed, the cooler air covering his cock. He spread his legs a little bit, watching you look at his cock. A small bit of embarrassment was starting to flood inside of him, not sure what you were thinking. It was all drained from him once your fingers wrapped around him, stroking lightly.

“Oh god.” Bob let out, letting his head drop back. He closed his eyes, breathing almost hitching with each stroke.

A warmth bloomed inside your chest as you watched his reaction. His cock felt like silk against your skin, a pearl of pre-come catching on your thumb. You spread pre-come along his cock, reveling in the sounds he had started to make. You grabbed the inside of his thigh with your left hand, keeping your right one stroking him.

The groan was ripped from Bob when your tongue licked at his tip. You kitten licked the head of his cock, earning soft whimpers from Bob. You took him into your mouth, easing him further into your mouth. Bob’s hand clenched near his sides, bringing himself to look at you. He moaned when he looked down at you, lips wrapped around his cock. It was something he had dreamed about for years.

You bobbed against him, taking him further and further into your mouth. You brought a hand to his balls, massaging lightly. Bob’s hips bucked a little, pushing the head of his cock into your throat. A gagging noise came from you, but you didn’t pull off of him. You wanted to give him everything you could. Take care of him the best you could.

Bob could barely handle it. The sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth were pushing him to the edge. His abdomen was tight, a heat boiling in the base of his spine. He knew that if you kept this up he would come soon. Without a warning, you pulled off of him. He leaned up a little, getting ready to speak. You smashed your lips against his, earning a moan from Bob.

“I need you in me.” You said, slipping your underwear off as you started to stand up.

Bob nodded, watching you place a knee on each side of him. You hovered above him, staring at him as you grabbed his cock. You rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, catching on your entrance every now and then. A whine fell from you when it rubbed against your clit, a wave of pleasure rippling through you.

You positioned him at your entrance, preparing yourself to take him. You slowly started to sink down on his cock. A moan fell from you as he stretched you open. Bob’s hands shot to your waist, still hesitating to grab you. His breathing picked up, chest heaving as you fully seated yourself in his lap. Soft sounds continued to come from him.

“You’re not going to come, are you?” You asked softly.

“No.”

Bob’s fingers started to skate under your sweater. Without warning, you grabbed your sweater and took it off. Bob’s fingers grazed over your midsection, not knowing exactly where to touch. Bob’s eyes eventually found yours, not leaving your gaze as you took his glasses off of him. His cheeks were bright red, causing a warmth to blossom in your heart.

Your hips started to roll against him, his cock sliding in and out of you. Your fingers moved to the back of the couch, grabbing it for more leverage. Bob’s hands felt like they were hovering over your body. You started to lightly bounce on him, his cock stretching you with each downward motion.

His hands moved to the couch cushions, gripping them with each motion you made. A part of you was confused, wishing he would just touch you. Your hands found his, placing them over your breasts. Bob licked his lips when he felt your breasts in his hands. He kept his hands there, too nervous to grab or knead them.

You kept working your hips, thighs starting to slowly burn. A steady heat had formed in the pit of your belly. You placed your hands back on Bob’s thighs, rolling your hips and slightly presenting yourself to him. Bob just sat there watching, whines and moans falling from his lips. His hands stayed barely touching your breasts. His tongue ran over his lips, wetting them while teasing you.

You leaned over him, placing your hands on his jaw. You licked his lips, silently asking for him to open his mouth. His hands drifted to your waist, sitting there as your tongue moved against his. You ran a hand through his hair, pressing your forehead to his as you broke the kiss.

“You don’t have to be afraid to touch me.” You said, rolling your hips.

“I’m nervous.” Bob whimpered.

“You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.”

Bob kissed you gingerly.

“But what if this is the only time.” He let his head fall back.

You started to kiss his neck, marking it lightly. It was cute, the concern and nervousness he was showing. You were also worried about this being the only time, but if he wanted to do this again, you definitely weren’t going to say no.

“We can do this however many times you want.” You whispered in his ear.

Bob pulled back to look at you. He leaned against you nodding before smashing his lips against yours. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you down tightly against him. A moan escaped you, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. His hips started to roll up into yours, meeting your own movements.

Bob leaned up, taking a nipple into his mouth as you rode him. His tongue swirled around the bud, pulling a moan from you. You threaded your fingers into his hair, keeping him pressed tightly on your chest. Moans started to pour from you as Bob started to take control. His hands gripped your hips and rolled them against him.

One of his hands disappeared from your hips, slipping between the two of you. Bob’s fingers slid between your legs, finding your clit. Your body shivered when he started rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves. You were so used to him not touching you that it was a little shocking. It hadn’t occurred to you just how close you were to your climax.

“Jus-just like that.” You whimpered as your hips rocked heavily against his.

The head of his cock was pressed tightly against that sensitive spot inside of you. The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock pressed against your g-spot had you tumbling over the edge. Your walls clenched around his cock impossibly tight. Whimpers fell from your lips, his hips not stopping.

“B-Bob!” Your hands gripped the shoulders of his sweater tightly as you came around his cock.

“I’m not gonna last.” Bob whimpered, feeling you clenched around him.

“Inside of me, please.” You whimpered.

Bob groaned at your request, thrusts started to become uneven. His whimpers started to grow louder, hands tight on your sides. With only a few more thrusts and whines, Bob was coming inside of you. You moaned when you felt his come fill you, coating your walls and spreading warmth inside of you. You pulled Bob in for a heated kiss, tongue and teeth clashing.

Eventually you two pulled a part, Bob guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder. He started tracing small patterns on the skin of your back, taking a moment to appreciate what just happened. The material of his sweater pressed against your cheek as you started to drift. You shifted in his lap, his softened cock falling out of you. The both of you moaned when he fell out of you, his cum starting to fall out of you.

“Hey, let me go get something to clean you up.” Bob whispered, shifting you off of him and onto the couch.

A thumbs up was all you gave him as he got up and trotted off to the downstairs bathroom. You looked around for your sweater, locating it on the floor near the couch. By the time you slipped your sweater on, Bob was returning with a wet washcloth. You accepted it from him, whipping away the mess between your legs. He tracked down his underwear to put on, finding yours too. He held your panties out to you, trading you for the washcloth.

Bob left after the trade, heading back to toss the washcloth into the dirty clothes basket in the bathroom. You slipped your panties on before he came back, finding the blanket you were curled up in earlier. Bob picked his glasses up from the arm of the couch, placing them back on his face. He sat down near your feet, placing a hand on your now blanketed calf. You kicked your legs up, making sure the blanket covered his legs and yours.

The cabin was darker now, the fireplace barely had a flame to it and the night had consumed the weather outside. Silence settled between the two of you. It felt comfortable yet awkward.

“I was serious.” You said, staring at the dimly lit fireplace.

“Hmm?” Bob looked over at you, confused by your words.

“About it happening as many times as you want.” You looked at him, watching a shy look take over his face.

“Oh, I.. Okay.” Bob adjusted his glasses as he looked back at the fire.

You sat up, moving closer to him. You took one of his hands in yours, squeezing it.

“Are you okay?”

Bob smiled and turned to look at you. The shadows of his glasses casted over his face.

“I’m better than okay.” He squeezed your hand back. He leaned towards you, kissing you softly.

Warmth flooded you as he kissed you, spreading through your body. You brought a hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours. You heard him take a deep breath.

“I like you.” Bob whispered.

“I like you, too. Always have.” You whispered back.

Bob pulled back from you, a small look of surprise on his face. You smiled at him, repositioning the blanket on your laps then resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’ve always liked you.” Bob said, staring at the fireplace. He was contemplating getting up to add more wood to it. He didn’t want to give this up, having you cuddled against him.

“I think I’ve always liked you too. Liked you ever since we were little.” You said, thumb rubbing along the back of his hand.

Bob kissed the top of your head, then removed himself from you. He made his way to get a piece of wood to put in the fireplace, checking the wood stove in the process. He made his way back over to you, letting you rest your head on him again when he sat next to you.

“What’s gonna happen when I leave?” Bob asked. It was quiet, something you barely picked up.

“I didn’t leave you when we left for college, I’m not going to leave you when you go to flight school.”

“But it’s a lot farther away.”

You sat up, pulling your knees up and sitting on them. Bob watched you move quickly, facing him completely now. You grabbed both sides of his face, keeping him from looking away from you.

“Bob, what about ‘I’ve liked you since we were little’ do you not understand? I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I’ll be with you till the end.”

Bob scanned your face, taking in your features. Sincerity was all he could find. Your words were honest, full to the brim with truth. You had never lied to him before, why would you be lying now.

“You love me?” Bob asked.

“Yes, baby bird.” You pressed a kiss to him.

“I love you, too.” He whispered back.

#robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x female reader #bob floyd x female reader #robert floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd smut #robert floyd fluff #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fluff #top gun fic #lewis pullman

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pinkdaisies9285 · 3 months

Text

Flyboy and the Florist-2

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff, lil bit of Angst with Bob's sad boi hours

Word Count: 539

Author's Note: Here's the next part and I hope you guys like it! For fun there's a small Taylor Swift song reference in this. Leave in the comments what's your guess!

“Since when did you move into a greenhouse?” Bradley questioned while trying to avoid the multiple bouquets and plants surrounding Bob’s apartment. Every open counter space was filled with almost every flower under the sun.

“Or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Bob, what’s going on?” Natasha replied while glancing over at him. Bob didn’t know how to explain that he had been going to the florist shop every day for almost two weeks. Every time he walked in he told himself he would ask for the owner’s number and then a date but instead he walked out with a new leafy friend. He just couldn’t build up the courage to tell her he was there for her and not for a bouquet for his coworker’s sister’s baby shower (that was a lie.) It all boiled down to the simple fact that Bob tried to work up the guts to ask her but once he set his sights on her it was like his brain turned to mush. He was a goddamn WSO for the Navy and one woman made all that precision and expertise go down the drain.

“Well, there’s this woman I-”

“Woman?! Damn Bob I didn’t even know you were talking to other women besides Nat he–Ow!” Bradley immediately interrupted before Bob could finish his sentence.

“Let Bob finish idiot,” the interruption led to Natasha hitting Bradley on the head. “Sorry, Bob continue what you were saying.”

“The woman is the owner of the florist shop I went to for Maverick. And for the past two weeks, I've tried to get her number but every time I just clam up.” Bob looked down at his shoes feeling defeated about his woes. He felt like at this point should he even try again. Natasha sensing this went over to Bob and gave him a pat on his shoulder.

“How about we help you, Bob? Do you need some practice? Or maybe tips?”

“How about an entirely new personal–Ow!”Natasha glared at Bradley which shut him up rather quickly after smacking his head again.

“No thanks, guys. I think I might give up on her.”

“Give up? Bob why would you give up!? You’re a WSO in the Navy for God's sake! Bradley and I both know that you can do anything you put your mind to.” Natasha said while resting her hand on Bob’s shoulder.

“Nat, I’ve literally tried to ask her for two weeks. I think I'll look crazy if I continue to go buy flowers I don't need.”

“How about we come with you next time? Isn’t the shop also an apothecary? I’ve been wanting to check it for a while.”

“You really would do that for me?” Bob looked at both of them with surprise. He didn’t think that his coworkers would help him like this. Well, Bradley might make fun of him for a little bit longer but Bob knew that he cared.

“Of course lover boy! Let’s get you that phone number and maybe more.” Bradley replied with a humorous smile on his face.

“Thank guys.” Bob smiles with a twinkle in his eyes like looked like stars. Maybe this would work. Maybe he could finally have something good happen in his life.

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123 @tgmavericklover @jessicab1991

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ultralightpoe · 2 months

Text

Sweet Nothing - Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Authors Note : I cannot believe this is only the second piece I had ever written for him because I loved him! This sat in the drafts a litte too long if you know what I mean.

Word Count: 3519

Warnings: - none I believe -

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @topgundaily )

x Enjoy! x

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

It’s a weird feeling, knowing that you were so close to the end and not being ready for it. You wanted to dig your heels in the mud and fight away from the finish line, drag yourself back to the start. What you would give to go back to the beginning when it was still so sweet and happy.

But you weren’t in a race, and you couldn’t fight your way away from the finish line this time. No, right now you are laid out across the bed of your guest room with the love of your life avoiding you downstairs. The end is coming. You both knew it, you just weren’t ready.

You had been warned over and over, from your friends to your parents and you knew his own group had warned him as well. You should have listened. But you both thought you could beat the odds.

He took you to the lake for a date, a fact that made your friends giggle amongst each other as you rushed around to get ready. Braiding your hair at first before panicking and not liking it so you rushed to brush through as your best friend chose the best bathing suit for you to wear and they all talked about your date.

“-He is so cute. And he blushes whenever you are close, which is so cute.” Veronica smiles, playing with your waterproof mascara as your brush snags on a nasty knot in your hair and makes you gasp in pain.

“Are you sure about this? He is a military man. We have the no dating military rule for a reason.” Samantha snaps, her eyes laid with mistrust and her body rigid as she leans against your wall. “I don’t want to get a call in the middle of the night of you crying to escape.”

That made you panic slightly, you knew Bob and he was always so sweet but how many females had fallen for the sweet act before. He was military and Samantha herself had gone through a military marriage that led to a broken cheek and nose, you had been the one to give her a place to stay.

“It will be fine.” You shrug. “I have a good feeling.”

And you had been right, he took you to the lake and you both swam around for hours. He braided your hair when you got out so it didn’t get knotted and tangled from the lake water. You stayed huddled together in his car for warmth as you ate the greasiest burgers you could and laughed about the day you had.

“I had a lot of fun today.” Bob blushes, fixing his glasses from where they were sliding down his nose as you smile at him. His cheeks were a little rosy from the sun and his knee was pressed to yours, his hair swept awkwardly. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” You answer, both your voices low as you stare at each other. “I loved it.”

“You ready to go home, then?” He asks, his cheeks reddening even more past the burn which makes you smile a little wider.

“Or we could…. Well we could go to your place.” You offer to be near him a little longer.

“I’d love that.” He smiles, moving to pull something out of the pocket of his swim trunks, placing it on the dashboard so he could start the car, and you blink at it.

“Did you have a rock in your pocket?”

“Yeah. I thought it was pretty and I wanted to keep a memory of today.” He says lowly, looking at you nervously. “Is that weird?”

“No. Not at all.” You laugh, leaning to kiss his cheek.

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

That little pebble from the lake still sat on his dashboard, the day he crashed his truck he made sure to grab it and keep it in his pocket. When he got his flier from the military he kept it on that dashboard now. He always carted it around in the air, saying it was his good luck charm.

The thought makes tears well up in your eyes as you drag yourself from the bed and shuffle around the room to get dressed for the day. It had been the very first time you slept without Bob, which meant you didn’t actually get any sleep and you were more than a little cranky. Tired, cranky and upset.

Not a good mix.

But you tried to keep it together while you got ready for the day, fixing your hair and slipping on shoes before heading downstairs to grab your bag and keys.

When your love sees you he casts his eyes away, rubbing at his chest as he makes himself look busy. “I made coffee if you need-”

It hurt to hear his voice, tearing at your chest as you snatch your work bag and keys before storming out of the house without any coffee. Just like that the feeling of betrayal is back, slashing at your heart and making you angry once more.

Even the sound of his voice upset you now.

Bob knew the news was not going to be delivered easily, waiting for you to get home from work with his leg bouncing wildly out of anxiety. You would leave, he knew it. Not that he would blame you, it would just tear him up through and through.

The front door stands and he rushes up, fixing his glasses and turning the corner to where you would still be taking off your shoes. “Hey.”

Your head snaps up at his greeting, smiling softly as you shuffle closer and lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek before you move to kiss his lips. You seem to read his body language then, the tight stance and the guilty way he doesn’t kiss back before you lean back and blink at him. “Everything okay?”

“I….. They are changing my… okay so you know how we always talk about how I might be restationed?” He mumbles, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “Well I… they are restationing me.”

“What? How long do you have?” You blink, fully pulling back from him. His hands catch on the bottom of your jacket, trying to keep you close and failing when you take another step back.

His face pulls in a grimace as he realizes that this is where the annoyance will kick in, where you will actually get mad at him. “I have about 2 weeks.”

“2 weeks! I’m sorry, repeat that because it sounds like you just said 2 weeks.” You snap, blinking at him as your face begins setting into anger. “Aren’t they supposed to give you more time? Why would they make this so short?”

“Well I found out… a month ago. I just didn’t know how to explain and I wanted to find an apartment that might work before I told you.”

“What do you mean, might work?!”

“For us. An apartment that would be big enough for us-”

“You expect me to drop my entire life in 2 weeks?!” And before either of you knew it there was a fight brewing.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

You can’t really concentrate at work, your pen tapping on your desk a little too quickly, your coworkers beginning to look at you with odd glances.

The more you thought the more you began changing your mind. It’s not like you loved this job, you would be more than happy to give your two weeks. Hell, you would love to give your days notice. You would not miss this job nor would you miss any of your coworkers. You would however miss your friends and family.

But it’s not like phones didn’t exist, and it’s not like you couldn’t take vacations to come see them. But it still wouldn’t be the same, you would be tearing yourself away from your family and friends. Alienating yourself.

At the end of the day your options are narrowed down to leaving Bobby behind or leaving your life behind.

Would you be able to make that choice.

“Are you okay?” Your boss asks, coming to stand at your cubicle with a stern look. “I haven’t received any of the reports I needed from you in the past hour.”

“I…..” You blink, sitting up straighter, the photo of Bobby you have on your desk catching your eyes.

“Let’s talk in my office.” She snaps, nodding her head as you try to come up with a proper excuse to your behavior.

A month into the relationship and your friends still were a little skeptical of your boyfriend, but things were easy and you were in love.

Tonight you would be taking Bobby to your friends birthday party, which was a very important thing and your boyfriend was panicking. You were laying on his bed, watching him pace back and forth in his room as he tried to find something to wear.

“Does it look kiss assy if I match you? Because you look great but I don’t want your friends thinking I’m…. or maybe these jeans won’t work. How dressy is this party?” He panics, finally looking at you and fixing his glasses.

“I think you are stressing yourself out.” You mumble, patting the bed in front of you to call him over. He sighs, moving to sit by you with a grunt which has you crawling closer and laying your head in his lap. His fingers immediately comb through your hair as he smiles down at you.

“I know your friends don’t like me, I just want to impress them.” He blushes, shrugging his shoulders.

“They like you… they all just have thoughts on the military life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They are scared you’re going to try and marry me and drag me across the country away from them and everyone. It’s a valid fear.”

“So…. you…. Well….. “ He blanches, nodding his head before moving to stand up. “I’ll stick with the shirt that matches you and the jeans.”

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

The drive home was filled with shaky hands and tears, you had to pull over once and swipe at your cheeks, taking a second to catch your breath before you continued your drive home.

The house was dark, Bobby’s shoes gone and his key slot empty which meant he probably went to work or had some other stuff to take care of. You sighed in relief, thankful for at least a couple more hours before you would have to have this conversation with him.

Instead you went upstairs, grabbing the stuff you had angrily dragged to the guest room last night and putting it back where it belonged before you hid and called your mom.

Cowardly, you might add.

You were in tears by the time you slammed the door to the guest room, hands shaking as you screamed at him to leave you alone, your breathing ragged and torn.

How dare he? How dare he hide this from you and assume you would just up and leave? How dare he not tell you.

A little forewarning, a little more understanding. Anything more than this.

“Baby, can we please talk about this?” He asks through the door, a small thump telling you he laid his head on the door. “I…. we both knew this would happen. This doesn’t need to be this big of a deal.” “Go away. Just leave me alone.” You hated that he was right, that you had always known and had always been warned and yet still couldn’t imagine it.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

It had been a long day that had followed a long night, and he was tired.

All he wanted to do was crawl under your shared sheets and pull you into him, snoring in your neck the way you always complain about while laughing, tickling your sides and snoring loudly just to bother you a little more.

But after the fight he was sure you would still have a couple more issues to comb through. He understood, he did. The way he threw it at you was a bit much, and he should have told you sooner but he wanted to make sure everything was sorted before he brought it up. He wanted all his ducks to be in a row.

He was used to this life, you weren’t.

The house smelled like it normally does when he gets home, your key in it’s preferred spot and your shoes left by the door, but no you in sight which bothered him. He loved when you came to greet him and now the house just felt empty when he entered.

Calling your name once, another try, one last time before he sighs and moves to find you without taking his shoes off. He heads upstairs, moving through the halls easily in search of you. Something melting in his chest when he sees you curled upon his side of the bed with your face pressed into his pillow.

Shuffling closer and placing a kiss on the back of your head before closing the blinds to your shared room and making sure you are comfortable before heading downstairs and getting started on dinner. Concentrating on that rather than remembering your tear stained face from the night before.

There were hundreds of ways he could have handled the situation better, and he tried to do the right thing and ease you into it. But he still did the wrong thing.

He just wanted you, he just needed you.

Nothing else mattered to him.

“I can’t believe it.” You smile, from ear to ear, as you help him carry in the last of the boxes into your new shared townhouse.

He had gotten news that his leave would be extended another 2 years, which meant he didn’t have to leave you yet. You both chose to find a new place together after 7 months of dating and build a home together. He couldn’t be happier.

You were quick to set the box onto the kitchen table before dashing to jump into his arms which made him laugh loudly, nearly dropping you as he tripped up and ran into a wall. “What’s the first thing we do in our new place?”

“Oh there are so many options,handsome. We can cook dinner…. Or maybe set up our kitchen table properly…” You list off ideas, a mischievous glint in your tone. “Or we can fuck.”

He chokes on air, his cheeks tinting red as he blinks at you. “The last one. Definitely the last one.”

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

By the time you wake up you have no clue how long you slept. More than a little disoriented as you crawl from the bed and shuffle down the steps of your home, still wiping the sleep from your eyes as you keep tripping on your way to the kitchen.

He’s got his back to you as he hums, cooking over the stove, and the sight alone makes your eyes well up in tears. It had been almost 3 years with him, living together and building a life together.

He doesn’t have time to turn as you dash to him, tears falling freely as you wrap your arms around him and cry into the shirt on his back, clutching the fabric between your fingers as he tries his best to hug back. “Hey hey. Take it easy.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” You sob, keeping him held tight.

“It’s fine. We’ll figure it out.” He whispers, finally getting the perfect spot to turn and hug you back. “I can make trips down here, any time I get days off I can try to get back here. You don’t have to give up your life for me.”

“No.”

“Come on baby. We can’t just drop this.” He pleads, trying to move you both to the table so you can sit and have conversation. “I can’t lose you. I know we were both aware of this coming but it’s different now that it is here.”

“I quit my job.” You blurt, making him blink at you. “I quit and already called my mom to tell her. I’ll be going with you.”

He can’t stop blinking at you, his heart stopping in his chest. “You didn’t have to…. You didn’t have to do that. I could have made the trips-”

“I don’t want to. I want you near all the time. I can’t live without you so if you’re being shipped to some stupid ocean side town then I will come with you and learn to swim.” You mumble out.

“You can swim.”

“Yeah…. In stillwater.” You laugh, the tears still falling. “I’ve given you 3 years. I’m not giving up now.”

“I know you don’t want this life ,marriage and being carted around.” He sighs. “But I was too selfish to let you go. And I can’t do that. I can’t let you go.”

“Is that what you think? That I don’t want to marry you?”

“Well your friends always sai-”

“I would love to marry you….. Okay you will actually have to ask me, this is not a proposal.”

“Okay, just take a breath.” Bobby laughs, watching you shake in the seat of his cockpit. “It’s just flying.”

“I’m not going in the air.” You snap a little too aggressively, the panic of being in the seat beginning to get to you. It was too high already, and you did not know how he did this on a day to day basis. “Let me out.”

“Okay, hold on. Take a deep breath with me now baby and just relax.” He orders, rubbing your arm comfortably. “Take a breath. You’re okay. Just take a look.”

You do what he says and take a deep breath in, looking around his cockpit before you spot the small rock from your first date sitting under the sun on the dashboard. “You still have that?”

“Of course.” He laughs, reaching past you to grab it before beginning to point and show you all the cool things in the cockpit.

They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming)

Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something)

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving)

You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming)

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The new place had a weird energy.

You were still getting used to not being so close to your family and days at the beach were not as amazing as you dreamed them to be. Bobby was a part of a ‘secret team’ and his days were pretty packed with a high paced training schedule at first so there were many days you were left alone to figure out what to do.

You ended up getting another job, this one you liked a little more than the last but it was still so new to you.

It would take you a while to get used to everything which was fine, you had never had to move like that before but it would all be fine.

But today Bobby got time off, which you made sure would be spent well. Dressing up in a great outfit and driving out to the stadium to scream Taylor Swift at the top of your lungs.

By the time he drags you home you have drunkenly decided that the poster you got from the Eras tour might help you liven your new house with. Bobby agrees, smiling from ear to ear as you hang it up lopsided, knowing that if it makes you happy then he will 100 percent get more for every room of the house.

You fall asleep in his arms, letting him whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

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