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laracrofted · 11 months

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supernova

synopsis: in a game of truth or dare, you reveal your dream threesome.

pairings: natasha trace x fem!reader x bob floyd

warnings: 18+ minors dni, ageless blogs that interact will be blocked, explicit smut (f/f/m threesome, oral sex, unprotected sex, blink and miss it choking, sort of dom phoenix, edging, cum eating, orgasm denial, overstimulation) and like, swearing lmao (wc: 3.2K)

notes: a little something something for my fellow bisexuals during pride month 🌈 and yes, i defeated awful writer's block with horniness and so can you 💖

much love to @sushiwriterhere @theharddeck @sometimesanalice and @roosterbruiser for letting me bounce many depraved thoughts off of them and i'm summoning a few people who might be interested: @princessphilly @seresinsweetie @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @bradshawsbitch @i-wanna-be-your-muse @sebsxphia and also no one look at me

“Anyone would want to sleep with me. I’m the most fuckable person in this room. Ask anyone.”

"What's Hangman so up in arms about now?" Phoenix asks, sounding unimpressed. She leans against the pool cue, waiting for Fanboy to make his shot, and cracks her knuckles with one hand.

You shrug. "Who knows."

Honestly, you can't even remember who made the comment that got him so worked up, so defensive over his own sex appeal. His general fuckability – which as a side note, you're pretty sure is not a real word.

Maybe Rooster, actually probably Rooster.

Regardless, Hangman has decided to make them all suffer the consequences, going on and on and on.

"Fine," Rooster manages, choking down a laugh, almost always given away in the unmistakable twitching of the overgrown ferret on his upper lip. "Go ahead. Ask anyone then, Hangman. This will be good."

You are minding your own goddamn business in the corner of the common room, sipping a canned red wine that isn't half bad for the price. It is sweet, a little bubbly, pleasant.

You press your lips against the cool edge and are in the middle of a sip when Hangman catches your eye, a sharklike gleam in his green eyes.

Is it worse to make eye contact or break it? Is that bears or sharks who see it as a challenge?

And in truth, Hangman is neither. He's more or less harmless with a sometimes sharp bite.

You lower the can, slow and suspicious, narrowing your eyes at him with a raised brow. “Can I help you, Hangman?”

Smirking, Hangman drawls, “You owe me a truth from earlier, ain't that right? You ran out on the game before I could get my question out."

You roll out a red carpet of curses in your brain and swallow another mouthful of the sweet red wine.

You'd gotten a call from the Domino's driver to come down and grab the pizzas from the front door before Hangman could ask whatever pointed – and alarmingly observant – question had popped into his scheming brain.

Everyone else has forgotten the game with some pizza in their stomach and a basketball game on the big screen, but clearly, Hangman has a good memory. Bastard.

"Fine. Hit me with your best shot, Hangman."

Fire away and all that.

His canines are gleaming white. "Who would you most want to have sex with in this room? No, wait, I should give everyone a fair chance of selection. Pick two."

"Together? Or separate?"

His brows raise, and Hangman's smirk deepens. "Well, damn. Someone's a little adventurous." Your eyes are practically slits now, staring him down. "Together. Who would you have a threesome with in this room? And unfortunately, no, I don't have a twin."

“My nightmare,” Phoenix mutters, and Fanboy shakes with silent laughter.

“Hmmm…”

An answer had popped into your head the second that Hangman asked, but in the name of suspense, you pretend to mull it over and really contemplate.

You look around the room. Halo and Fritz are on the sagging couch with Yale and Harvard in the opposite chairs, watching the game too closely to overhear this cursed conversation.

Bob and Fanboy are strategizing in the corner, but Bob is definitely listening. His shoulders don't look quite natural.

Across the pool table, Payback shows you his wedding band with a faux scolding expression. You grin.

“I guess I'd have to pick... Phoenix and Bob."

Rooster absolutely crows with laughter as Hangman goes into a full control-alt-delete shut down and reboot, blankly staring at you with disbelieving eyes and a slack jaw.

Someone should commemorate this moment. Add it to one of the frames in the Ready Room.

"Are you malfunctioning?" You drain the rest of the wine and drop the can into the nearest recycling bin. "You know I'm bisexual, right, Hangman?"

"But Phoenix and Bob?" Hangman splutters, as if recovering from an ordeal with a capital O. "I need the reason. Why would you pick them?"

You glance over at Phoenix, who is regarding both of them with a smug smirk. You don't dare look at Bob right now.

You smile, radiant and knowing, with a “Follow up questions aren’t part of the game, Hangman,” and breeze across the room for another can of wine, patting him on the shoulder.

"So..."

Five or so minutes later, Phoenix sidles up to you and sits on the arm of your chair, ignoring the perfectly good and empty chair in the corner. Her boot brushes against your leg.

She leans in, and Phoenix's familiar vanilla and amber scent washes over you.

"Am I allowed to ask a follow question?" A nod, and Phoenix looks kind of self-satisfied. Kind of smug. "Did you mean it? Or were you just kicking the chair out from under Hangman? Because..." She lowers her voice, all smoke and velvet. "I had fun with you before. Just us."

"Both..." You pause. "I kind of wanted to knock him on his ass, but also, I was very much serious."

Her smile widens, and Phoenix leans in more, brushing the shell of your ear in a puff of warm breath. "Meet me in my room in 20 minutes."

Her canine grazes your earlobe for a brief second.

You blink, dazed, and Phoenix is already walking away.

"What about...?"

What about Bob? is the question on the tip of your tongue, but obviously, you can't call that out in this room. He is still here somewhere.

She looks over her shoulder, dark eyes warm with want and promise, and mouths, "20," with a wink.

A little over 20 minutes later, Phoenix has your wrists pinned down on her soft sheets, nudging under your chin with her slender nose in search of the sensitive spot on the side of your neck.

Her bottom lip drags against it.

You bite down on a moan, and in retaliation, Phoenix bites the spot harder.

"I want to hear you," Phoenix murmurs, an order wrapped in a pretty bow. "You sound so pretty, angel."

She kisses you again and sucks your bottom lip between hers, making it impossible to bite down on.

And with intent, Phoenix slides a smooth thigh between your legs, dragging her knee against the red flash of fabric that covers your cunt and grinds down.

"Come on. Let me hear you."

A drawn out moan escapes your mouth, and right then, Bob walks in.

He closes the door behind him, oblivious, and then, spots you both and freezes.

"Phoenix?" Bob manages, sounding uncertain. His eyes are wide and blue behind the wire frames. "You said 30 minutes, right? Should I – I can come back. We can catch up another time."

Despite the words, Bob doesn't move. He looks down, cheeks pink and flushed, but doesn't move.

"Don't worry, Bob." Phoenix releases your arms and climbs over the edge of the mattress with a smile. Walks over to him in an electric blue bra and underwear set that looks downright radiant against her dark hair.

She looks like a goddess.

"You want him here, don't you, angel?"

She circles behind him, sliding the plaid button-down shirt from his broad shoulders. It crumples to the carpet without resistance as Bob raises his chin and meets your eyes.

"You told me before," Phoenix prompts. "Tell him."

He is watching you, waiting on your answer with bated breath.

A long breath releases from your mouth.

You push up on your elbows, then your knees, wanting to see him more clearly.

“Earlier with Hangman… I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted both of you. I want you – both of you – to fuck me."

His Adam’s apple moves as Bob swallows, sudden and hard.

He looks surprised. He shouldn't be.

He's always felt a little out of reach, so damn nice. You didn’t want to freak him out – or worse, offend him with a casual invitation to very casually fuck your brains out and maybe, let you suck his cock before or afterward.

You’re not picky. Whatever works for him.

You were pretty sure Bob was at least a little interested, but now... Bob only stares.

Phoenix gives him a gentle push and strolls over to the record player. She looks casual and languid, flipping through the records, but you're not so fooled. She's giving him a moment alone with you.

"Phoenix and I have... before, but I want you as much as I want her. Do you want me? is the only question, I guess."

He coughs into his elbow, messing with his lenses, which are fogging every so slightly. "I do. You're very pretty and nice, and I've... I mean, I do want you."

A smile dimples your cheek. "Oh, I'm pretty and nice, am I?"

"Shut up," Bob mutters under his breath with a slight smile. His ears are a little red.

You reach out and pull him closer to the mattress, pulling until Bob has to plant a knee on the edge to keep his balance. He watches you with wide eyes and says your name in a rush of breath – like a sharp wind over the ocean – and leans in, gravitating.

He cups your chin, slow and careful, pulling you in for a slow kiss that fizzles in your bloodstream like champagne. He is still giving you ample time to pull back and change your mind.

You deepen the kiss, even as Bob holds back.

You're still not sure Bob believes you.

Music swells from the corner, slow and sultry and sensual, as Phoenix settles behind you. She unlatches your bra and pushes it from your shoulders, running her fingers in soothing circles over the muscles.

She reaches between you and him, moving to cup your breasts, but at the last second, Phoenix skims her hand down the curve of your stomach and down and down, dipping under the waistband of your panties.

Clever fingers glide through your wetness, glancing off your clit in a tease that makes you whimper into Bob's mouth. A satisfied hum vibrates your back.

"So wet already, darling. We haven't done anything other than kiss you. You must really want us," Phoenix murmurs, warm against your ear, licking the sensitive patch of your neck again. "Come here, Bob."

She pulls you back from him with a hand around your throat – squeezing once, hard enough to make you feel light all over – and puts her glistening fingers in his open mouth.

His moan makes you even wetter.

You watch, breathless, as Bob closes his eyes and licks your taste from her fingers. His pupils are blown, eyes almost black, when Bob opens his eyes again.

His groan against your mouth is a rough sound, drawn out and unrepentant. He kisses you like religion, like a prayer.

Phoenix's voice is smug in your ear. "He believes me now."

You've been paired with Bob and Phoenix on enough exercises to know that the Naval aviators are an unstoppable pair in the air, cutting through the skies with grace and precision.

You'd imagined – more than once – that Bob and Phoenix would be an unstoppable pair in the bedroom as well. Sue you, okay? Who wouldn't?

Phoenix had been a force on her own, pinning you down and making your thighs shake over her shoulders; coaxing you to the edge and kicking you over without warning with a razor sharp smile that bordered on mean.

Bob always seemed so quiet. Seemed so unassuming.

But Bob dated, and on the one and only occasion the WSO brought a date back to the shared apartment complex, all of the Daggers had heard about the dying cat sounds that'd been loud enough to bleed through the walls. Hangman had been relentless.

You were seemingly the only one who could put the admittedly horrendous moaning aside and remember the other sounds.

(Oh, oh, Bob, oh, Bob. Fuck me. So good.)

You knew Phoenix was good in bed.

You had a feeling about Bob.

Together?

You were absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt right.

Phoenix is in the backseat for once but never ever on the sidelines. She seems to sense that the WSO might still need more reassurance, might need some control to feel wanted here.

She focuses on you, nibbling your neck and pinching your aching nipples, as Bob rests on the red and orange pillows, watching you swallow his cock, mesmerized.

You pull back, keeping him half in your mouth and circling his base with your hands, and run your tongue along the sensitive underside of him.

He bobs in your mouth, letting out a rough curse.

"Are you sure?" Bob had asked before, stilling the hands that were reaching for his zipper, running a thumb across the veins at the base of your wrist. "We can start with something else. I don't want you to feel pressure."

"Positive. I've wanted to suck your cock for about six months now."

He blinked, looking even more owlish with his glasses on the nightstand. "Six months? You've only been here for like six months."

You cut in, "And I wanted to suck your cock the whole damn time. Any other questions?"

He audibly swallowed, and Phoenix grinned.

You could easily get lost in him – lose minutes, even hours with the weight of him on your tongue and the sound of his broken moans in your ears – but Phoenix is too impatient to let that happen.

She nudges your soaked underwear to the side and pushes one, two, three of her fingers inside of you. You're wet enough that Phoenix doesn't meet any resistance.

"She's so fucking wet for you, Bob. Jesus Christ," Phoenix moans. A wet kiss is pressed into the curve of your shoulder, against the nape of your neck. "Should I make her come?"

God... and Phoenix says it like, What do you think, Bob? Am I clear? Should I take the shot?, in the same voice from the air. Asking him to weigh the pros and cons. Deferring to his decision.

You'll never be able to be paired with them on a drill again and not remember.

You would breathe a sigh of relief when Bob nods, except for... well, obvious reasons. You swallow around him, and Bob leaks against the back of your throat.

You're already aching, and Phoenix is pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. Pleasure is building in the pit of your stomach, and you need, you need, you –

"Or..." Phoenix drawls, easing up on the pressure, all casual and unaffected. She works you open, steady and constant, pinching the thigh that tries to rock you against her hand. "I could edge her for you. Make her wait to come on your cock."

God, Phoenix can be mean in bed. You'd almost forgotten.

You kind of hate her for it right now.

(You really don't.)

You whimper around Bob's cock and clench around Phoenix's fingers at the same time, digging your nails into the pale skin of Bob's muscular thighs, already bruised with a small love bite from earlier.

An abrupt fuck spills from Bob's bitten lips.

He pulls out of your mouth without warning, squeezing a hand around his base and screwing his eyes closed to keep from coming right then and there.

"Jesus Christ, Phoenix."

"So Bob seems to like that idea," Phoenix observes, almost conspiratorially. Her fingers catch your chin. "What about you, pretty girl? You want to come now or on Bob's cock?"

You are a little out of breath but no less certain.

"Do I even have to answer that?"

As a reward, Phoenix slips her tongue in your mouth and starts all over again, ever careful to pull back at the exact right moment when your breaths are short and your gaze is glassy and unfocused.

You are shaking and warm all over when Phoenix is satisfied, running her fingers through the arousal that slicks the inside of your thighs, underwear long discarded on the floor somewhere now.

"Can I..."

You are on your back now, and Bob leans over and sucks your nipples in his mouth. You lose focus, running your fingers over the hard length of him, smearing his pre-cum over the head.

"Can you what?" Phoenix prompts, ghosting a knuckle over your swollen clit. You quiver.

"I want to eat you out. Didn't get to do that last time, remember?"

You seize Bob's shoulder, keeping him pressed against your chest, and Bob makes a pleased sound, content to lavish your breasts with licks and nibbles right now.

You continue, "I want to eat you out while Bob fucks me."

"Well," Phoenix replies, breezily, brushing her hair over her shoulder and bends to suck on your other nipple. "We can probably make that work."

"Fuck," Bob breathes again.

You've never heard him curse so much, not even in actual missions.

A content sigh pushes everything else from your brain.

You lick at Phoenix again, licking a stripe up the center of her cunt, drowning in the warmth and silk, as Bob pushes into you from behind, bare and hard and so goddamn big.

Fuck is right.

"God..." Bob moans against your damp skin, pulling out and easing back in again. His accent comes out in bits and pieces, smoothing the edges from his words. "Feel so good. S'good for me. So good for us, darlin'."

You melt at the praise and nuzzle deeper into Phoenix with a sigh of pleasure, circling her clit with a content hum that makes her breath go all uneven and shuddering.

Satisfaction slides down your spine, warm and consuming.

You could stay here for hours between them. You would.

She's quick to instruct and correct, but once you're in a rhythm with your fingers hooked inside, Phoenix is nothing but moans and sighs and oh god, so good, oh god.

She comes in your mouth with a sharp gasp and rolls out from under you, which leaves Bob with enough room to double his efforts now.

He presses praise against your neck, circling his fingers around your clit with precision and attention; urging you to come for him with gentle pleas and deep thrusts and blissfully, a well-placed palm against your aching cunt.

You shatter around him as Bob spills inside of you.

Oh my god are the only words that are forming in your head right now. You want to say something else.

Holy shit maybe.

We should definitely do that again even.

But Phoenix doesn't give you even a second of peace.

"You're a mess, angel," Phoenix comments, light and almost mocking. She spreads your legs wide and looks you over. "Let me."

You expect Phoenix to wipe you down, but instead, Natasha presses her mouth against your sensitive cunt.

Stars erupt in your vision. Galaxies.

She licks and licks every inch of you, holding down your shaking legs, until you come again, damn near crying from the overstimulation, shuddering.

Wetness dampens the sheets underneath you, and Phoenix licks the cum that drips down your legs, some yours, some Bob's, and kisses you right on the mouth.

You definitely mean to get your clothes and pee and everything after, but Bob is warm against your side. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and passes out with an arm across your chest.

Sleep pulls you under soon after.

Phoenix is the first one to leave the bed and even then, only to put on a quieter record and go right back.

note: is she the filthiest smut piece i've ever written? maybe. she's named after red wine supernova by chappell roan, which is so fun and so queer and worth a listen 💖 leave a comment before i regain an ounce of shame.

#bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd smut #bob floyd smut #phoenix x reader #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x you #natasha trace smut #natasha trace fic #bob floyd x reader x natasha trace #laracrofted writes #bob fucks #fic: bob floyd #fic: natasha trace

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mrs-mag1c · 9 months

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𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂'𝐒

NATASHA "PHOENIX" TRACE

Helping Hands

Phoenix has had a long day. She knows the only thing that will make her feel better is coming home to you and getting a little help to unwind.

Guard Dog

natasha has a hot girlfriend and is ready to fight as long as she keeps wearing low-rise jeans.

Sundress Season

phoenix isn’t the biggest fan of summer. it’s hot, humid, and penny’s niece has a thing for sundresses. a few too many drinks, and phoenix is letting her know exactly how she feels about them.

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW

Rooster's Brood Part 2

The squad gets a little surprise in the form of Rooster spawn.

Little Black Shirt

Knowing how much Bradley loves your breasts, you decide to surprise him with a new shirt which leads to you guys trying something new.

Sunflowers

Bradley’s always been good at saying things he doesn’t mean, but he’s even better at saying things that he does.

Green-Eyed Rooster

when rooster gets jealous

Sub Rosa

After months of sneaking around, and a few weeks of not seeing each other, Rooster and Reader get a few minutes to themselves at Ice’s birthday party.

The Vice Admiral's Niece

At a yearly Navy dinner, Vice Admiral Simpson decides to bring his niece to get her out of the house after a breakup. She isn't thrilled until a certain aviator catches her eye all night.

Let Me Love You

Bradley has been dealt a shitty hand in life, and he's determined to protect himself from getting hurt again. Everything is turned upside down when you blow into his life looking like everything he swears he doesn't want.

Love to lie

Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Skittles in Vodka

Almost a decade ago, Rooster ended up stranded in the desert. Thankfully an Army caravan was around to pick him up, and there he met the woman he loved. Unfortunately, he never got her name. Now a certain candy drink reminds him of her.

Bradley's Girl

you’re the perfect girl for Jake. You’re pretty, kind, funny, smart. You could have him on his knees for you if you’d ask. But you’re Bradley’s girl.

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN

De-instigating the Instigator

To the surprise of everyone, Jake Seresin does have an off button

It's All About You

4 times Jake thought about marrying you and the 1 time he did.

Middle Of A Memory

Jake Seresin was an asshole, everyone knew it. He flew with confidence and held a cocky smirk. Behind every cocky smirk and snark remark was you, built into his memories, memories he always lived in.

A Formal Reprimand

Above all else, Jake prided himself on his spotless Naval record. When his wife inadvertently causes him to be formally reprimanded during deployment, he plans to give her a fair share of the punishment when he gets home.

All You Had To do Was Stay

Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

ROBERT "BOB" FLOYD

Flashes

you buy a special set of lingerie when you know you're ovulating and Bob asks if he can take pictures of you while you fuck.

#bradley bradshaw smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x wife!reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #natasha trace smut #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin smut #jake seresin #bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun smut #robert floyd smut #top gun fic recs #top gun hangman

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bussyslayer333 · 1 year

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Candy

summary: bob falls for a beautiful barista over the course of a few encounters.

pairing: robert floyd x hotbarista!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, jake being an asshat, bob having some self doubt but he gets over it, smutty smut smut at the end, sort of mentions of an age gap??

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first time Bob saw you was a Monday morning, he was meeting Phoenix and Rooster on his day off for coffee at a new place in town. It was a cute cafe, full of pastels and pastries and a little bell that jingled when he stepped in. The interior was larger than what he had expected, there were many booths, and a few tables by the front window. Phoenix and Rooster had managed to snag a cosy booth towards the corner of the room. He approached them with a smile on his face, happy to see his friends.

“Hey guys-”

“Bob, move!” Phoenix seethes slightly.

“Nice to see you too.” Bob rolls his eyes, sliding into the booth next to Bradley.

Bradley offers Bob an explanation, “There’s a super hot barista making our drinks right now.”

“Oh, fair enough.” Bob smiles, craning his neck around and trying to see who his friends were talking about.

Phoenix pipes up, “and when he says hot, we’re talking a total smoke show, like i’m pretty sure Rooster is still sporting a semi from when she asked if he wanted cream or not.”

“I am not!” Bradley whines, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

Bob was about to put his two cents on the situation, when suddenly his two friends were silenced from their bickering by a presence he felt over his shoulder.

“One double espresso and one peppermint latte?”

Phoenix beats Bradley for speaking first and Bob recognises her best flirtiest smile.

“Yeah, that’s us.” She says coolly.

“How could I forget?” The voice behind him teases as she places the drinks down, Bob watches Bradley’s cheeks flush again.

Finally, Bob turns to look at the alluring voice, only he hasn’t given you enough time to pull back from placing the drinks down and he finds his face hitting your cleavage. You make a shocked noise, and pull back giggling.

“That’s one way to make me take your order.”

Bob wished the earth would swallow him whole in that moment.

“God, I’m so sorry!” Bob pushes the words out of his mouth frantically.

Phoenix was never wrong, you were totally hot, but not just that, Bob thought. You were beautiful, and clearly funny, probably clever as well, kind (and he wouldn’t have ever said it but you had a great rack).

Phoenix butts in before Bob can ramble more apologies, “He’ll have a cappuccino.”

Bob watches you scribble down his order, in a little notepad you pulled from a pocket in the front of your pink half apron, tied neatly around your waist.

“Perfect.”

You smile down at him, and saunter off. Presumably, to make his drink. He wonders how you don’t notice the three pairs of eyes that watch as you walk away. You’re wearing tight black jeans and a tight cream long sleeve top, the pink apron creating a sweet contrast in your outfit. Once you’re out of earshot, Bradley and Nat finally allow themselves to cackle at Bob’s misfortune.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Bradley snorts.

Nat chokes slightly on her espresso before speaking up as well, “Sorry, I just remembered the panicked look on your face again.”

Bob groans, placing his head into his hands. He knew more often than not that girls like you didn’t go for guys like him, but now he had definitely fucked it. He watches as you make his drink, giggling with one of your coworkers as you work the machines. He imagines you’re telling him about the dork who just accidentally motorboated you trying to stutter out a one word order and groans again.

Bradley takes sympathy on Bob’s groaning and stifles his chuckles, “It’s not that bad! At least you got boobs in your face!”

Bob watches as Nat flicks Bradley in the head, mumbling something about him being a caveman.

“One cappuccino for the cute glasses guy who is now well acquainted with my boobs?” He can hear you giggle as you place the coffee down in front of him.

“That’s me.” Bob says with a hint of awkwardness, pointing his thumbs at himself. Was that an embarrassing thing to do? Probably. But you’re laughing and all Bob can think about his how much he wants to see you do it again.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You ask with a smile on your face.

“We’re good, thank you.” Bradley gets there before Nat this time and pumps his fist under the table.

“I’ll be over here if you need me.” You reply and wander off again, hips swaying.

Bob is reminded of a saying he hears Jake using far too often to girls in the Hard Deck, it usually makes him mildly nauseous but now seems fitting. He does hate to see you go but love to watch you leave.

Nat pipes up again but this time in complaint, “How do you do it, Floyd?”

Bob cocks his head to the side, silently asking her to elaborate.

“She called you ‘cute glasses guy’, you’re so in there.”

Bob’s eyebrows raise so high he’s pretty sure they’re at his hairline. Did you actually call him cute?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second time Bob has the pleasure of seeing you, he’s collecting caffeine for the team with Jake during a break after a particularly early start on the Friday of that same week. He’d been thinking about you for the past few days non stop, so when Phoenix suggested a coffee run, he knew exactly where to go.

What he should have bet on, was Jake also deciding you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake drawled out.

Bob knew Jake had spotted you. Lo and behold, you were behind the counter, bent over trying to reach one of the syrup pumps. Same tight black jeans hugging your hips, this time paired with an old band t-shirt. You spin on your heel after hearing Jake’s exclamation, and start to recite your company’s spiel when a spark of recognition flashes across your face.

“Cute glasses guy!” You say almost excitedly.

Bob feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he watches Jake spin around and try and assess the area to see if there were any other dudes wearing glasses in the vicinity. There weren’t.

“Hi.” Bob smiles bashfully.

Jake, who can seemingly never keep his mouth shut decided to pipe up, “I’m feeling a little left out here Bobby, do you two know each other?”

Jake knew damn well how you knew each other, Nat had told everyone as soon as they got back to work. You watched as Bob stumbled over the beginning of a sentence, unsure of how to explain what had happened. You save him from himself and speak up,

“He gave me a very memorable shift on Monday.” You wink at Bob as you say it.

You figured that if this guy was close to Bob, then his other friends had already told him what had happened and he was just trying to rile Bob up.

“It would be my pleasure to give you a memorable shift darlin’.”

Bob rolls his eyes at Jake’s simpering drawl, texan accent heavy on his tongue. Luckily for Bob, you’re just as unimpressed. Usually you like your men a little more… reserved.

“I’m sure it would. What can I get for you today boys?” You ask, directed more towards Bob now.

He whips his phone out and starts reciting the the orders of the team, it’s a tad lengthy but watching you whisper all of his words to yourself again as you use a perfectly manicured hand to tap the drinks into the till makes it worth all the while.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you give him the total, “Will that be with military discount as well?” You gesture towards the two men in uniform. They both nod and you tap in an extra code, bringing the total down significantly.

“I didn’t realise you were military?” You question as you turn around to start making the drinks in the lengthy order, calling another girl out from the back to man the till.

“Naval aviators, sweetheart.” Jake supplies for you. “We’ll I’m a pilot, Bob’s a backseater.”

Bob can’t help but feel like Jake is trying to undermine him slightly. You don’t pick up on it.

“Backseater?” You ask your question directly towards Bob this time.

Bob clears his throat, “Uh yeah, basically I’m a Weapons System Officer, I sit in the back of the plane and man weapons and other stuff.” He didn’t want to bore you.

You smile, “Sounds important, is he your pilot?”You gesture towards Jake.

“No, the woman I was here with on Monday is.”

Your face lights up in recognition, “Oh yeah she was gorgeous! And the guy with the moustache?”

“Yeah he’s a pilot too.” Bob smiles, watching a scowl etch its way onto Jake’s face at the mention of Rooster. He makes a mental note to tell Phoenix what you had said about her.

You’re placing the final drinks down in their holders when Jake finally pipes up again, “You really are beautiful sweetheart.”

His eyes rake all over you, making Bob seethe. You don’t notice the anger radiating off Bob, but flush slightly under the compliment.

“Thanks, flyboy.”

Bob is cursing his lack of confidence, wishing he was the one being labelled with a nickname. He knew you were beautiful, he’d known way before Jake! He looks back up in time for you to hand him a bag with half the drinks inside, the other bag going to Jake.

“It was nice seeing you again Bob.” You preen at him, and add quickly on, “and meeting you, Jake!”

“Anytime, beautiful.” Jake thinks he’s got this one in the bag as he turns around to leave, he’s sure your number is gonna be scrawled on his cup when he opens the bag.

Bob doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes when your hear the pet name, slyly winking at him once you realise he saw.

Once they’re all back on base handing out the coffees, Jake fully emptied out both the bags of the napkins. He makes a little “aha” noise as he finds what he’s looking for. A napkin with sharpie scrawled over it. His grin is quickly squashed as he throws the napkin in Bob’s direction. It lands on Phoenix’s lap and she reads what the sharpie note says.

cute glasses guy/bob

call me :)

***-***-***

Your name is signed with a little heart next to it at the bottom and Bob can’t help but break out into a wide smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The night before Bob next sees you was the Friday of the next week and you had been texting non stop since you had given him your number. You had even followed each other on instagram. Bob had spent the night scrolling through your posts with Phoenix, careful not to like any, so she had been holding the phone.

Every so often, she would stop and zoom in on one. Like the one of you at your most recent birthday, you were a good few years younger than him, he noted your star sign as well. The next few Phoenix stopped and zoomed in on had Bob wishing for an ice cold shower. The first was a few slides of you on vacation with your friends. A few standard group photos (you stood out from them by a mile), and one particularly gorgeous photo of you stood on the terrace of your hotel room; slightly sun kissed wearing a flimsy summer dress and your hair flipped to one side. The sun was setting in the background and Bob was pretty sure he was having some type of angina, but the last picture on the slide is what had him truly breathless. You were on the beach with your hair tied up messily, wearing a pathetic excuse for a bikini, your back was facing the camera but you were looking back at it squinting slightly over your shoulder. Bob didn’t want to seem too creepy, but Nat had thrown all caution to the wind. Immediately zooming in on your ass.

“Damn.” She muttered.

Bob discreetly tried to move the pillow from behind him over his lap. Nat, the ever perceptible noticed immediately and cackled.

“Same.” She patted him on the shoulder.

“Maybe we should stop stalking for the night.” Bob started.

Nat whined like a child being denied candy, “Cmonnnn just one more? Then I’ll never bother you again.”

Bob rolled his eyes and let her continue when she gasped far too theatrically.

“She just posted on her story!”

“Don’t click it-”

He had been far too slow in stopping his nimbled fingered friend.

“Holy shit.”

It was a mirror selfie, your room was lit up only by a warm lamp seen in the corner of the picture. You were posed on your knees wearing only a black high waisted body suit.

“Dude, she’s totally posting thirst traps for you!” Nat squealed.

Bob rolled his eyes, sure it was crazy that you posted something like that just when he was on your account, but how on earth would you know that he would be the first one to see it? There were a number of guys in your comments who you could be trying to impress. Or you could just be posting a photo that you liked.

What Bob and Nat didn’t know, was that you were sat in your room with your best friend Marley. You had been showing her photos from Bob’s instagram account when you received a notification that he had liked your post. It was from a little over a month ago and was slides full of your vacation photos. Marley shrieked.

“Oh my God, he was so stalking you!”

You giggle in realisation, “I hope he comments.”

Marley rolls her eyes, “Sure, Mr ‘I post pictures of cute dogs I see in the street’ is gonna comment on your blatant ass pics.”

You shove her playfully, “You said you liked those pics!”

She smiles, “Of course I do, and so does he clearly. I just don’t know if he’s brave enough to tell you so.”

You cock your head to the side, which eggs her on.

“You should post something, make him comment.”

That’s how you found yourself in the skimpiest piece of clothing you own, being positioned by your friend. Once you hit post, you felt a wave of nausea come over you. Marley noticed as the ever attentive friend she was and took your phone from you. She refreshed it a few times and screamed.

“He’s already viewed it!”

“WHAT?” You shriek far too loudly considering you had downstairs neighbours.

You grab your phone out of her hands to see for yourself. He was there in the viewers, along with your usual people. Then you hear the ping to notify someone has sent you a dm.

“Open it!” Marley says with the most urgency you’ve ever heard.

It’s from Bob.

_rfloyd93

replied to your story

damn 😍

Back in the barracks, Bob is trying to wrestle his phone from Natasha.

“DAMN?! I would never say that! You made me sound like Jake!”

They stop their huffing and puffing so Phoenix can explain. “And when has it ever not worked for him?”

Bob rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, he knows she’s right.

“Look she’s typing!”

Phoenix shoves his phone back into his hands.

you

like what you see?

Bob shows the message to Phoenix,

“What do i say?!”

Phoenix is much more nonchalant about the situation, she understands now that you definitely like Bob. She’s never seen someone so taken by her shy backseater.

“Just say the truth.” Nat shrugs

Bob types and untypes for a second before sending his message.

_rfloyd93

i’d like it more in person

You shriek once again, showing your phone to Marley who shrieks as well. You can hear your downstairs neighbour Mrs Bellman smacking her broom against the ceiling in hopes that you’ll shut up.

you

my shift ends at 6 tomorrow?

_rfloyd93

i’ll be there

You like his message and flop back on your bed with a dreamy sigh.

Marley laughs, “girl, you have got it bad.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The third time Bob sees you, is the next day when you’ve finished your shift. He’s waiting for you sat in one of the booths near the front, fiddling with his phone. Your coworker Julian points him out to you.

“Boobs guy is sat over there, babe.”

You giggle at him, untying your apron and folding it to put in your tote bag.

“I know, I’m meeting him.”

Julian gasps loudly and you shush him, pushing your finger to his lips. You slowly, pull your finger away and let him speak in a hushed tone.

“Oh my Goddddddd! Tell me everything on Monday please!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You know I will.”

With that you kiss his cheek and wander over to Bob.

“Hey.” You say slightly breathlessly.

He smiles up at you, “Hey.”

He takes in your appearance, signature tight black jeans and he recognises the black body suit, now he knows what it looks like underneath your jeans he flushes slightly. You look down at yourself slightly, placing a hand on your cocked hip.

“Like what you see?” You repeat your words from last night.

Bob flushes further, memories of what he had done after Nat had left last night leaving his cheeks hot to touch.

“You look gorgeous.” He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes.

You cup his cheeks with a hand and smile, “Thanks, Baby. Not too bad yourself.”

Bob feels his jeans tighten and wills himself to think of Grandma Floyd. He finally gets himself to speak, “I was thinking we could go for a walk, maybe get some drinks?”

You pull him up from his seat and link your arm through his, “Sounds perfect.”

Bob knew taking you to the Hard Deck was a risk, but it wasn’t a far walk from the cafe and the service was impeccable.

Pushing through the door he made eye contact with Phoenix first, she gave him a little thumbs. He was already feeling good but that gave him an extra boost of confidence.

During the 10 minute walk to the Hard Deck, you had talked about everything and nothing. Bob found out that your favourite colour was green, you had a pet dog back home called Frank and you had just finished college with a degree in business.

“Not to sound rude, but with a degree in business why do you work in a coffee shop?”

You smile, not taking offense and appreciating his curiosity, “I’m saving up, I want to open a coffee shop of my own, My dad said he could give me money for a deposit but I’m quite close myself now.”

Bob looks at you, wanting you to continue.

“I’ve been saving up since I got my first job in high school.”

Bob notices your confident demeanour has slipped and you seem bashful.

“That’s really cool.” He smiles and you can tell he’s being truthful. “When I was in high school I was a total drama geek.”

His attempt to to make you laugh works and your confidence is back, “I can definitely imagine you as a little Romeo.”

By the time you reach the Hard Deck you’ve both swapped enough embarrassing high school stories for a life time. Now Bob just hopes he can get through the night.

You and Bob are sat at a somewhat secluded table towards the corner of the room near the jukebox. You’re sipping on a vodka cranberry whilst Bob has a stella in a bottle with a label that he’s playing with. Bob decides it’s time to rid himself of the large sweater he was wearing to combat the night time chill that came with early winter in San Diego. You’re trying not to visibly swoon as you watch his biceps strain under the tight black top he’s wearing. His hair flops slightly without its gel to hold it in place so now looks slightly mussed. You reach over the table to fix it, Bob gets an eyeful down your top, he can’t complain.

Once you pull back you’ve got a cheeky smile on your face, Bob quirks an eyebrow,

“Who knew Bobby was hiding these guns under those chunky sweaters?” You giggle somewhat coyly.

You love watching the pink flush rise from his neck to his ear tips so you tease him further.

“Any other surprises you want to warn me about?”

“No, ma’am.” Bob doesn’t catch your drift fully, but his southern twang makes all up for it.

You feel your thighs clench slightly at the name he drops. You decide to move the conversation forward, thinking it’s best for your underwear.

“So what brings us here?” You gesture to the large amounts of navy memorabilia that surround the walls and ceilings of the Hard Deck.

“Me and my friends come here a lot, very navy friendly.” Bob smiles.

“Are they here? Your friends?” You question.

“Yeah, around here somewhere. They always are.”

“Can I meet them?”

That’s not what Bob had expected you to ask, but there was no way in hell he was gonna miss out on rubbing this in Bagman’s face.

“Definitely.”

You recognise three of Bob’s friends immediately. They’re all stood or sat around the pool table, taking turns and sipping beers. You learn their names properly this time. Phoenix is the beautiful woman who is Bob’s pilot (and also his only competition), Rooster is his moustachioed friend and Hangman is the tall blonde who had tried it on you.

“It’s nice to see you guys again!” You say hugging Phoenix and Rooster with an arm.

Another man with a moustache stood next to them pipes up, “Sorry, have we met before? I’m Payback, but you can call me Reuben.”

His smile is sweet, and you reach out to shake his extended hand. Another slightly shorter man stood next to him speaks,

“I would remember that face if we had met,” He’s charming as well, but no Bob. “I’m Fanboy.”

Phoenix comes to your rescue and explains the situation before retreating back to Rooster. Another tall man stood next to Jake laughs, “Oh my God, you’re the hot barista that Bob motorboated!”

Bob tenses slightly from his position beside you, you’re not sure if it’s because of the remembrance of the embarrassing action or if it’s the fact that you now know that him and all his friends had been referring to you as “the hot barista”.

You giggle at the man who had exclaimed (you think his name is Coyote),

“That’s me.”

Bob can only breathe a sigh of relief at your constant collectedness of anything cringeworthy that came your way.

Phoenix and Rooster had been watching all the interactions from a bit further back.

“She’s perfect for him, don’t you think?” Bradley nudges Phoenix. “They really balance each other out.”

Phoenix finally sighs out, “If they don’t work out do you think I’d still have a shot?”

Bradley snorts until he realises his friend is being serious, “Hey, let’s not go praying on anybody’s downfall.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes and walks off to get another beer. She cant help but smile as she catches you giggling at something Bob has said to Jake, you’re squeezing Bob’s bicep as you calm down and his arm is wrapped lowly around your waist. You really were perfect for each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next time you see Bob is a week later when he’s picking you up from your apartment for your first “proper date.”

Bob had insisted on taking you out to dinner (as the gentleman he is). You had texted him about what to wear and he had simply told you that you’d look good in anything (and nothing, but he was too afraid to say that part). It was sweet, but ultimately unhelpful, so you were frantically sending Marley photos of dresses you were thinking of wearing.

The first one was a tight minidress, it was red and didn’t leave much to the imagination.

marls <3

hot, maybe too slutty for a first date?

you

ur right, hang on

The second was a floral sundress, it had a wrap part around the cleavage.

marls <3

adorable, too casual for dinner tho

you

ugh

i have nothing to wear

marls <3

i’m sure he’d love that

you

shush

WAIT

i’ve got it

The last dress you try on is a black maxi dress, it’s tight but tasteful. With a low enough neckline to be teasing but not indecent.

You send the photo to Marley and await her response.

marls <3

💦💦😩😩🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🤤🤤🤤

you

ur an idiot

this the one?

marls <3

u love me

and def

You spritz your makeup with setting spray and spray extra perfume on your pulse points. You then hook your hoops into your ears and check the time on your phone. 19:20. You had ten minutes before Bob said he would arrive, you check back through your texts to make sure you got the timing right. Not that you could forget, you’d been looking forward to seeing him again all week.

Before you knew it you had been daydreaming about Bob’s strong arms for the past five minutes, when your phone chimes.

bobby ❤️

i’m here

do u want me to come up?

you

dw!

i’ll be down in a sec

You pull on your wedges and make your way to your door, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing you clutch.

You make light conversation in the elevator with the teen girl who lives with her mother in the apartment across from you.

“You look beautiful, are you meeting someone?”

You smile bashfully at her, “Yeah he’s really sweet!”

You had given her the odd piece of boy advice when her mother had asked you to check in on her when she was working nights.

“Don’t tell on me if you see me coming back with him tonight.”

She giggles as if you’ve let her in on a big secret, and exits the elevator with you as it hits the ground floor. She peeks round to see who you’re meeting and whispers in your ear before she turns to go the vending machines.

“He’s hot!”

You chuckle at her, “I know right!”

Bob looks handsome as ever, he’s pushed his hair back and is wearing a tight black button up shirt with black slacks and smart shoes. You realise you look quite the matching couple.

As you reach him, both his hands come to rest on your hips, yours on his chest.

“Hey, handsome.”

That makes a smirk come to rest on Bob’s lips, your thighs squeeze together involuntarily at the action.

“You look fucking incredible.” He charms.

He takes your hand in his and holds you out to do a little twirl for him. As you spin around he sucks a deep breath in.

“How did I get so lucky?”

You peck him on the cheek, “I could ask myself the same thing.”

You love him like this, breezy. Like there’s nothing in the world that could weigh him down.

He helps you into the passenger seat of his jeep, before going around to sit in the drivers side.

“I’ve booked us a table at Fucina, I forgot to ask if Italian was okay with you?” Bob asks, nerves taking over him partly.

You rest your hand on his thigh to comfort him, “It’s perfect.”

As it turns out, it was more than perfect. The food was incredible, as well as the wine.

“Bob, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

He smiles at that and watches as you moan after swallowing another mouthful of pasta, trying to ignore how his slacks tighten.

“Do you want to try some of mine?” Bob offers, he’s slyly trying to feed you.

“Sure!”

Bob twirls the tagliatelle around his fork and leans over to pop it in your mouth. You wrap your mouth around the fork and pull off of it with a pop, leaving a small amount of the creamy sauce on the side of your lip. Bob watches in awe as you chew and swallow the pasta, your tongue peeks out to swipe at the sauce left on your lip.

“How have you made pasta sexy?”

You laugh at his expression, “I would argue pasta has always been sexy.”

You both finish your meals and polish off the bottle of white that the waiter had recommended, it had gotten pretty late but there was still flocks of well dressed couples eating at the restaurant. You were finally able to flag down a waiter,

“Can we get the cheque please, Daniel?” You smile, looking down at the waiters name tag politely.

The waiter flushes, “Of course, miss.” And scurries off.

Before you can speak, Bob butts in, “There is no way on earth you’re paying.”

You roll your eyes and reach for your clutch, “Shush, handsome.”

Bob is faster than you and your clutch is tucked under his armpit before your fingertips can grasp it. You pout and Bob has half a mind to listen to every command you ever make for the rest of his life, but his mother would be bitterly disappointed if he allowed (who he thought to be) the most beautiful girl in the world to pay for her food.

“Don’t give me that Southern gentleman crap.”

Bob’s cheeks flush as he realises you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You’re not paying for anything.”

You give him your best doe eyes, squeeze your cleavage together and pout, “Halvesies?”

Bob looks away and says something he never thought he would to you.

“No, darlin’ please, let me do this.” He drawls.

You relent, the pet name sending heat to your cheeks.

“Fine, but i’m paying next time.”

Bob chuckles, but his heart leaps hearing you sound so certain about a ‘next time’. The waiter returns with the cheque and Bob doesn’t even allow you the courtesy of seeing the bill. He knows you’d be angry at how much it was, but he thought it was so worth it, just for you.

Leaving the restaurant, the air has much more of a chill to it than before you left. You try to stifle a shiver as the breeze hits you but Bob has already noticed and is shedding himself of his jacket. Draping it over your shoulders. It’s a tad big on you, but smells incredibly like him. You try to discreetly stick your nose into the neckline and inhale deeply. Bob giggles at your action,

“Smell good?”

“Heavenly.”

It’s a short walk to Bob’s car and he’s rushing around to open the door for you immediately. He gives you your clutch that he had been graciously holding for you before walking round back to the drivers side.

The radio hums peacefully between you two playing 80s r&b hits on the slow drive back to your apartment. The sky is a dusky blue, and the city lights blur with the stars the darker it gets. You hum along as the song switches to one you recognise, singing quietly as you watch Bob drive. He looks so incredibly handsome lit up by the streetlights.

The song reaches its crescendo and now your full on singing at Bob whilst he giggles at your theatrics, “It’s like candy!”

You’re shimmying in your seat and Bob watches with practically hearts for eyes. You laugh heartily and Bob thinks it’s probably the best thing he’ll ever hear.

“Eyes on the road, handsome.”

Who is he to deny you anything? Bob reluctantly pulls his eyes from you and realises he’s much closer to your apartment than he thought. He goes right at the next turning and spots your building at the end of the road. Just as he’s about to start sighing you open your mouth, “Will you come up to my apartment with me?”

Bob swears his heart is beating out of his chest, “Of course.”

Once he’s parked, Bob once again rushes round to open the door for you and help you out. You stumble slightly, landing on the side of your wedge and steady yourself on Bob’s strong arms. Before he can ask if you’re okay your lips are on his. Bob swears he’s in heaven right now. You lips are soft on his, plump and tasting of the remnants of the wine you finished off as well as the tang of the lipgloss you had reapplied in the car. You pull away from him and Bob could have cried from the loss of contact,

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if I could kiss you.” You mumble slightly.

Bob sighs, “Please shush, and do it again.”

You giggle and immediately reunite your lips. This time there’s a little more passion with the confirmation that he wants it fully. His tongue slides into your mouth, meeting your own making you let out a whimper. You guide his hands from politely at your waist down to your ass, he groans into your mouth, dampening your underwear. You pull away and a string of saliva connects your lips. You want to be disgusted but your pretty sure your core just clenched with more want than you’ve ever felt.

“Come on.” You grab Bob’s hand with a coy smile and drag him into your building and towards the elevator.

The ride up to your floor feels painstakingly long to Bob, when it finally dings and the doors open he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

He follows your footsteps as you walk tantalisingly slowly towards your apartment door. You shuffle through your clutch to retrieve your keys before pushing them in the lock and walking through the door. Bob is quick on your heels. You stop abruptly and bend over to undo your wedges. The meat of your ass bumps against Bob’s crotch and he holds in a deep groan.

“Minx.” You hear him mutter as you wander over to your kitchen to grab two glasses and a bottle of red.

You return back to where Bob is now sat on your couch. You place the two glasses on the coffee table along with the bottle.

“Pour us a glass and meet me in my room.”

Bob nods in understanding and blatantly watches your behind as you saunter over to your bedroom. After finishing off pouring the second glass he hears you call out his name. He picks up the glasses and follows your pathway towards your bedroom door which is cracked open slightly.

You’re stood fully naked in front of the full length mirror on your wardrobe door, trying to undo the clasp on the back of your necklace.

Bob’s grip tightens on the two glasses as he tries not to allow them to tumble to the floor. His hard cock is pressing shamelessly against the front of his slacks now.

“Could you help me with my necklace?” You turn your head slightly to ask Bob.

He’s at a loss for words but nods dumbly, placing the two glasses on your dresser closest to the door. He takes the few short steps to close the distance between you and stands behind you cautiously. You look up at him from the mirror,

“You can touch me.” You smile comfortingly at him.

Bob releases a shaky breath and reaches to help hold your hair up. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and it sends a shiver down your spine. The gold pendant which dangles between your breasts shakes slightly and Bob lets his gaze wander down towards them. You finally unclasp your necklace and Bob lets your hair down so you can step away and place the necklace on your jewellery plate.

“Thank you, baby.”

Bob let’s out a low moan. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He reaches for your hand and drags it towards his hard cock. You both moan upon making contact and you palm him slightly over his trousers just enough to work him up. You reach up to connect your lips again as Bob’s hands find your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples making you arch up into his touch. Your hand leaves his crotch in favour of undoing the buttons on his dress shirt hurriedly. His hands join yours so he can finally shed himself of his shirt, suddenly feeling like he was on fire.

Once his shirt has been discarded on the floor, your able to run your hands all over his muscular chest. You whine against his lips as your hands dip lower, tracing his happy trail.

“Why have you been hiding this from me?”

Bob smirks against your lips and deepens the kiss further, licking into your mouth. His hands dip from your waist to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Can I?” He whispers.

“Fuck, please.”

Bob lifts you in his strong arms and plops you down onto your bed, you spread your legs as he crawls up to meet you. He lowers his head to the bed and stares at your pussy, glistening with arousal for him. It’s already started to coat the tops of your thighs. You shy slightly under his gaze and try to close your legs, he raises a strong hand to your thigh, stopping you.

“Baby, please do something.” You whine, high pitched.

Bob was never one to decline you and reaches his other hand forward. His middle finger slides between your slit, gathering your wetness. He bumps against your clit a few times before pulling his finger away to lick at the wetness now on his finger. You buck your hips up to where he’s looking down at you. He reaches his hand down again and parts your lips. He spits down onto your pussy, it hits your clit and rolls down to mix with your juices.

“Fucking christ.” He whimpers, “I need to fuck you.”

You moan loudly at his proclamation and sit up to help him rid himself of his trousers. You slip off of your bed as he sits up on the edge. Staring down at you with lust blown pupils as you pull the zipper down and begin to pull his trousers down as well. He lifts his hips and you’re able to tear them down the rest of the way pretty quickly since he discarded his shoes near the door along with yours. You’re now face to face with his cock straining against the fabric of his black boxers. The sight makes you lick your lips, maybe another day. You pull his boxers down the rest of the way as well and watch as his cock slaps against his abdomen. The tip is pink and there’s a few beads of precum threatening to fall down the side of him, there’s one large vein that runs across the bottom of it.

“Shit, you’re big.” You chuckle slightly looking up at him. Bob is pretty sure he’s in love with you.

Bob pulls you up by your hands and you land on his lap. You push at his chest and he gets the hint to lay back. His head hits your pillows and you reach forward to peck his lips, before grabbing his cock in you right hand and stroking it a few times. He whimpers against your lips making your giggle. You move your pussy towards his cock, guiding the tip between your folds, gathering wetness. You both moan out as he hits your clit.

“Stop teasing darlin’.” Bob groans as his tip moves over your clit again.

You groan breathlessly but agree, “Only for you handsome.”

With that, you begin to slowly sink down onto his length. Your arousal makes it an easy glide down, but he’s still thick. He struggles not to buck up into you until your finally fully seated. The dusting of hair above his dick hits your clit making your whimper shyly. Bob is 100% sure he’s dead and in heaven right now, and he praises himself for whatever good deed he did which allowed him to feel your velvety walls squeezing him at this very second.

You set a pace on top of him, moving up and down on him and swirling your hips as you go. Bob’s hands are groping at your ass as he bucks up into you, meeting your thrusts. Your bedroom is filled with your joint breathy moans and the sounds of skin slapping as your ride Bob. One of his hands snakes round from your ass to toy with your clit. It makes you jolt and whine out loudly.

“Fuck. Babe I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” You giggle down at Bob.

He smirks up at you, “That’s the whole point.” He punctuates his sentence with a thrust up into you. He’s been close since the moment you sank down onto him, but wants you to cum first. He rubs circles on your clit, he can feel you tightening around him the more he does. You quicken your pace, chasing your high.

“I’m close, please.” You moan out, rolling your hips down to meet another sharp thrust from Bob. He switches the way he’s circling your clit abruptly and looks up at you, begging,

“Cum for me please, gorgeous.”

You wail slightly on top of him as your peak hits, clenching down on him as you buck up erratically. Your pulsing pushes Bob over the edge and you can feel as he spurts his seed into you with a few jerks of his hips.

You slump down onto his chest as the white hot pleasure starts to fade away. You listen to his beating heart calm with a lazy smirk on your face. Bob is staring down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s hard to comprehend.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers.

You look up at him from where your chin is resting on his pec.

“That’s all you, handsome.”

Bob has never been so sure that you’re all he wants to see for the rest of his life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: HWJDUEUWJW finally finished this and omfg,,, my fave thing i’ve written to date!!!

sorry that it’s kind of long but i promise it worth itttt

defo will be doing some more w these two bc they are adorbs

pls reblog, comment or send me an ask and tell me what you think !!!!

as always thank u for readingggg :)))

- honey <333

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years

Text

Full of Surprises

Summary: You learn some surprising things about Bob at the end of a date.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), subtle Dom/sub tones, Bob being pussy drunk, language, takes place before TGM

Robert Floyd was, without a doubt, the sweetest man you had ever met.

He refused to let you open the door, whether it be to restaurants or the car. He insisted on walking on the outer section of the sidewalk, closest to the streets. He came into your classroom after school to help you with laminating and cutting out math games for your students.

When he gently kissed you goodnight, his hands would softly cup your neck, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your jawline, nose brushing against yours.

It was a gentleness that you didn’t think still existed. You certainly didn't expect to find it in Lemoore of all places.

But sometimes your Robby was considerate almost to a fault.

At the end of the first date, you invited him in for coffee. Your hope was that he would feel more comfortable kissing you if you were inside and not out in the hallway of your apartment.

But Bob just gave you that endearing, slightly crooked smile as he shook his head. "If I drink coffee now, I'll be up all night," he told you.

You couldn't even be mad because you knew he was being genuine. It also helped that he asked when he could see you next immediately after.

On the second date, you stood on the tips of your toes so you could kiss his cheek. The sight of his glasses fogging up, combined with his face turning bright red melted your heart. You had hoped the action would be enough for him to realize you wanted him.

Instead, he kissed your cheek while he stammered out his question of when he would get to see you again. It was such a sweet sight that you couldn't be mad, though disappointment still ran through your body when you walked into your apartment by yourself.

By the fourth date, you had enough of quick pecks on the cheeks, and opted to grab Bob by the collar, pulling his lips onto yours. He was a great kisser, once he got over the initial shock of your action and his brain fully processed what was happening.

Kissing you back made things simultaneously better and worse. The way he would cup your face, gently tilting your head up to deepen the kiss still made your head dizzy. Goosebumps flared your skin when you thought about how it felt when one of his large hands was firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You wanted him to take you against that door right then and there.

But Robby was a gentleman so all he did was kiss you. Which left you no choice but to shove a hand in between your legs later on that night as you imagined how his hands would feel on other parts of your body.

You wouldn’t call yourself a horndog, but the WSO made it really difficult to think straight when he would casually put his hand on your knee, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your thigh.

So here you were, towards the end of your seventh date with Bob, who was walking you back to your apartment.

You had been trying to send him less subtle messages this time. You wore a sundress, hoping the exposed skin might provoke him to be more daring.

He definitely tried to get glimpses of your chest. But every time you looked at him, he'd just blush and stammer how pretty you looked tonight. Which while sweet, did nothing to soothe the ache between your legs.

Bob's breath would hitch everytime you pressed your body against his. A faint scarlet flush had crept up his neck to his face as soon as he saw you in that dress and it had stayed there for the whole date.

"I had fun tonight," you told him as your fingers grazed over the collar of his shirt. Briefly, your fingers brushed against the skin underneath.

"I did too. Always do when I'm with ya," He said, the drawl you adored coming out. Bob could read the phone book to you and you swear you'd be enthralled.

Your touch was electric. Bob tried to focus on those bright beautiful eyes of yours, but he couldn't help but wander to your full lips. He tried looking away in an attempt to be respectful, but his eyes instead turned to the straps of your dress, tied together by a soft, velvet fabric. If he undid those knots, the dress would fall down, revealing your-

He had to get out of here.

Bob was crazy about you -in fact- he was ninety-five percent sure he wanted to marry you. Therefore, the last thing he wanted to do was come off too strong and scare you away, or worse, disrespect you.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw him beginning to take a step back.

No. Not tonight.

You stepped forward, your eyes straight on him. You made your way towards Bob with such focus and precision, it caught him off guard (a huge feat considering his job). It was how you were able to press your lips against his.

His kisses were sweet yet intoxicating, like honeyed wine on a summer afternoon. Normally you weren't one to overindulge, but tonight, you wanted all of him.

Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, gripping onto his dark blonde locks in a desperate attempt to keep his lips pressed to yours. The action caused you to lightly tug onto his hair. What could best be described as a soft moan fell from Bob's lips.

Your eyes opened, shocked that such an erotic noise came from the man you were kissing.

It also sent heat straight to your core.

Bob's bright blue eyes flew open, realizing that the noise he had prayed was just in his head, actually came out of his mouth.

He broke away, his neck and face bright red. You were positive if you undid the first three buttons of his shirt, his chest would be red too.

"I-I should go-"

"Don't you fucking dare." You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in. With great care, you took several steps backwards, pulling him in so you were both inside your apartment.

It was your display of how desperate you were for him that made Bob realize that perhaps he didn't have to go home and get himself off tonight with his hand.

That was what gave him the confidence to keep his lips pressed to yours. You closed the door (locking it without looking was much harder than you originally thought), your hands returning to his soft hair.

You pushed him towards the couch. Bob, finally getting the message, sat down, spreading his long legs.

His lips were gone from yours for only a minute, as you quickly straddled his waist, your thighs on the outer side of his.

Everything about him was addicting. The scent of sage flooded your nostrils. His jeans felt rough on your bare thighs, creating fiction when you shifted forwards.

Bob used his hands to tilt your head back, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Your hands were everywhere now- his hair, his shoulders, his chest.

It felt like you couldn't get close to him, despite being literally on top of the WSO. His hands found themselves on your hips, gripping the fabric of your dress, causing the hem to rise further up your thighs.

You leaned your whole body forward, your hips grinding downward. The movement, combined with the friction your clothed core received from his jeans was absolute heaven. Before you could even think, a desperate mo an fell from your lips as your hips repeated the action again.

Bob snaked a hand up your neck, grabbing onto the ponytail your hair was done up in. A sharp tug pulled you back, forcing you to face him.

His normally well-kept hair was ruffled, a loose curl falling over his forehead. A prominent red flush had overtaken his face, his lips glistening from the sloppy kisses you were just exchanging. Glasses askew, those deep blue eyes were so overblown, they looked near black.

It was the hottest sight you had ever seen.

"What do you want? Tell me." His voice was deep, gruff. You were surprised with how commanding he was as he demanded an answer from you.

Bob tightened the grip he had in your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, "C'mon darlin', tell me what ya need."

"You, Robby. I want you."

Sweet Jesus, you were going to be the death of him.

The next thing you knew, Bob's arms were wrapped around your waist and you were no longer on the couch. You were no longer on the ground, the bespectacled lieutenant holding you.

"Where's your bedroom? I'm doing this properly, not on a couch."

Despite your head spinning and your whole body flushed with heat, you managed to explain that your bedroom was down the hall and to the left.

He followed your directions with precision, or at least he tried to. Your lips had found their way to his neck, peppering the skin with kisses.

It was when your teeth sank into that sweet spot, right underneath his jawline, that he stopped in the hallway, a guttural groan falling from his lips as it took everything in Bob to not come in his pants right then and there.

Your back was now pressed against the cool wall. As his lips attached themselves to your neck, you couldn't help but throw your head back, gasps falling from your lips as his teeth grazed your hot, sensitive skin.

His mouth moved down to your collarbone and the tops of your breasts. His teeth were sinking into your flesh now, sure to leave marks that would be visible by tomorrow morning.

"Tryin' to be a gentleman and you make it so fuckin' hard with that mouth of yours. Can't even get ya to a bed so I can take ya properly." You moaned at his words, it being the first time you had heard Bob curse. His accent was thicker, his words sending heat all over your body, but particularly the spot in between your legs.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you do that," he said before his tongue lapped over a bite mark he had left on your neck.

"R-Robby, b-bed," you whimpered, your hips frantically bucking up in a desperate attempt to feel some friction.

Somehow, someway, the two of you made it into your bedroom. The back of your head softly touched your pillow, your body now splayed on your bed. You looked up, your eyes meeting those sapphire blues of Bob's as he hovered over you.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He chuckled.

The neat ponytail you had out your hair in at the beginning of the night was barely holding things together, fallen pieces framing your sweet face. Your lip gloss was now smeared, thanks to him. He could see the bite marks he had left along your neck and collarbone.

You looked good, marked up as his.

One of the ribbons tied as a strap of your dress had loosen, causing the fabric to fall a bit from your chest, exposing your breasts even more. The hem of your dress had bunched up towards your hips, exposing the lacey soft blue panties that Bob definitely saw earlier in the evening when you bent over to pick something up and he hadn't been able to get the sight out of his head until now.

Now he had the whole view.

Your head was spinning. You hadn't expected this side from Bob. Quite honestly, you had prepared yourself that if things ever got physical between you two, you would be taking the reins.

You were wrong. Oh so very wrong. You had never been happier to be more wrong in your life.

"C-can I taste you?" His voice was soft, despite his hands gripping your thighs. He looked unsure, almost worried that somehow, he would go too far if he didn't ask.

It made your heart melt. It also made you want to give this man as many children as he wanted.

You nodded your head, "P-please Robby. Want your mouth on me."

Bob groaned, "You're gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear."

A giggle escaped your lips, though it was short lived as Bob's fingers quickly found the waistline of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs.

"Y-you're really pretty," He stammered upon seeing the sight of you laid out for him.

You smiled, a hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. Bob gave you that sweet, soft smile that made you melt, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

Because even though he had been dying to get his hands on you since your third date, he was never going to pass up an opportunity to kiss you.

The moment was sweet. You didn't realize how much you needed it until you felt the tension leave your body as his lips brushed against yours.

Bob broke away, giving you that sweet, slightly crooked smile before situating himself between your legs.

You opened your mouth, ready to give more words of encouragement to make him feel comfortable.

That wasn't necessary, as Bob planted his face in between your thighs with zero hesitation.

A curse fell from your lips, not that you could help it. That was impossible with how his tongue felt, licking stripes from your entrance to your clit.

Bob's mouth continued to surprise you tonight. First by showing he actually knew how to curse. Second (and more importantly), his mouth was very talented.

Upon his tongue lapping at your entrance, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit, your hands latched onto his sun kissed hair.

You tasted fucking divine and somewhere, in the back of Bob's brain, he was wondering if you'd prefer an engagement ring with a gold band or silver band.

But then you tugged on his hair as you continued to let out another pretty moan. Thoughts of ring bands left his head as his lips attached themselves to your clit, alternating between sucking and kitten kicks.

You gasped upon feeling a thick finger enter you. You looked down, your eyes meeting Bob's.

What a sight that was. His lips still latched onto your clit, but stilled. Those beautiful blue eyes on you, watching, waiting for your next movement to help him decide what to do next.

"Please don't stop Robby."

"You know what that does, callin' me that. Don't ya?" The smirk forming on his face was new to you. It reeked of confidence, something you loved to see.

Your grin said it all.

Which is why Bob didn't feel bad when he added a second finger to you. In fact, that's why he smirked upon seeing your back arch as you fell apart on his fingers and tongue.

It was ridiculous, truly ridiculous, how fast he was able to find that sweet spot that had you falling apart. His fingers felt so good you couldn't stop the moans coming out of your mouth.

Not that Bob minded. In fact, with the pretty sounds you were making, combined with your addicting taste, he couldn't help but grind his hips into the mattress, looking for some type of relief.

You saw the action (he wasn't trying to hide it) and it caused your hips to buck up towards his face because holy shit, how was this man real?

"You taste so good," He groaned into you, sending vibrations all the way up your spine.

"A-and you say m-my mouth is killer," you managed to grit out.

Bob chuckled, sending more vibrations throughout your body.

You felt a third finger thrust against your walls. The grip you had on his hair was so tight, you were surprised he hadn't complained about it (maybe he liked it, anything was fair game at this point).

His name fell from your lips over and over again, like a prayer. Not that there was anything holy about what his mouth and fingers were doing. As if he could sense the coil in your lower stomach tightening, he placed his other hand on your abdomen, applying pressure.

You lunged forward, as much as you could with your thighs wrapped around his head as the coil snapped. It hit you like a strong wave, causing you to come up and crash down over and over again.

His fingers and tongue kept working through your orgasm, prolonging your high. The lewd sounds of your wetness against his fingers filled your bedroom.

"Fuck you taste amazing," you heard him say, his hips frantically rutting into your mattress.

"C-can I keep going?" He asked, his fingers still curling up against that sweet spot.

You groaned at the sight of his chin and lips covered in your slit, hoping he could see you nodding enthusiastically despite his glasses having fallen further down the bridge of his nose.

Bob's mouth went right back to your soaked core, lapping up your slick. Every time his nose bumped against your sensitive clit, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body.

His fingers were meticulous, curling against that spot over and over again with precision. You didn't expect his skills as a WSO to transfer into the bedroom, but it made sense. He had to be focused, whether it was on other jets or (in this case) making you come again.

What didn't make sense was how the guy who was so quiet and shy that his glasses fogged up when you kissed him on the cheek was now making you see stars.

All it took was for you to look down, your half-closed eyes meeting those deep blue, for you to come undone again. This one felt more intense, most likely due to the groans Bob was pressing against your slicked core.

You threw your head back, eyes closing your eyes as you rode through your current orgasm. When was the last time someone had made you come twice by eating you out? Has that ever happened?

You attempted to catch your breath as your brain processed what just happened.

Robert Floyd may be shy, but not in the bedroom. A pretty important lesson.

You were also pretty sure it would be the biggest mistake to not marry this guy, but you could think about that later.

Upon feeling long fingers gently stroked your cheek, you opened your eyes to find Bob's face now inches away from yours.

"D-did…..did you enjoy that?" Bob asked, a faint red flush creeping from his neck to his face.

Nodding your head, you smiled, "I think it's time I return the favor."

"Oh you don't, I mean not that I don't want you to, it's just, I uh, I-I-" as Bob rambled you looked down, noticing the dark, wet-looking spot that had formed at the crotch of his jeans. Realization hit you, causing you to clench your thighs.

He came from eating you out.

Yup, you were marrying this man. You'd be the biggest idiot not to.

"S-sorry," Bob stammered, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

Using your elbows, you propped yourself up, "Hey. It's fine. It's actually more than fine, it's really fucking hot."

His eyes widened, his demeanor resembling more of the shy, nervous man you first met in the library on that fateful day.

A hand flew to the back of his neck, "I just, I meant it, you sound really pretty when you make those noises. Not that you don't sound pretty when you don't make them. You're always pretty and you do taste amazing, whatever diet you're on-not that you should change for me- what I meant-"

You giggled as your hands cupped Bob's face, pulling him in for a kiss. Partly to throw him a rope, but mostly because you couldn't believe this sweet man was all yours.

He shifted his weight, his chest now directly on yours, deepening the kiss. As his hands found themselves on your waist, a familiar ache began between your thighs.

"It's just a shame," you broke away from his lips, "I like to think I have a pretty talented mouth too and was hoping to show you."

Bob's eyes darkened, his breathing now heavy.

"Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready. Plus that's enough time to get you out of this dress," He said, his tone serious.

Robert Floyd was full of surprises. But was that so bad?

6K notes · View notes

sebsxphia · 8 months

Note

Imagine

Bob putting soft cock in his bunny so they can feel it grow and stretch them out

￫ a/n: oh goodness fucking hell yes please dear anon jesus christ i’m foaming at the fucking MOUTH rn 😵‍💫🤤

￫ c/w: cockwarming and p in v.

you’re pawing at his chest as you straddle him on the sofa, with your face nuzzled in between where his neck meets his shoulders and mouthing at his warm, bare chest.

“need you, bobby, please.” you softly whine.

he chuckles quietly before cooing at you. “i’ve got you, ‘m right here, bunny.”

one of his large hands is still cradling your head and letting his fingertips scratch your scalp. his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulls them down, freeing his soft cock. “it’s a little soft right now, bunny, but i’d never deny my sweetheart.”

the keenness of you rutting your hips along this thighs and hearing you needy whines, mixed with his hand giving it a couple of strokes, allows it to harden ever so slightly. it’s just enough so he can sit inside of you, but still soft enough that it doesn’t fill you whole.

you let out a huff of content breath at suddenly feeling so connected to bobby, before grinding your hips more. you’re still kissing and mouthing at his bare chest, with little groans leaving your lips.

“feels s’ nice, bobby. i like feeling you grow ‘n stretch me out.” you murmur against him.

bob lets out a silent, “oh.” before settling his large hands to your hips and moving them against his own. you whimper at each movement, being able to feel his tip nudge deeper inside of you and his shaft grow. you felt bob’s warm lips press against the shell of your ear and kiss you tenderly, with his voice soothing in your ear.

“does that feel nice, bunny? feelin’ my cock stretch out my sweet cunt? so good for me, letting me fill my sweet bunny whole.”

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deakyjoe · 11 days

Text

Pattern Breaker

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (afab)

Category: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love

Summary: A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral (pussy eating king), vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, handjob, kissing, groping, scratching/marking, Bob fucks, love confessions, fluff, talks of bad dates, reader described as having hair and being shorter than Bob (but nothing else), swearing/cursing - let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 7.1k (it kinda ran away from me)

A/N: My humble contribution to the Bob Fucks Agenda 🫡

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Bob Floyd was head over heels in love with you.

Yet he had no idea what series of mistakes had landed him here. In the Hard Deck. With you. Sat next to him. In a tight booth. Your thigh pressed up against his. Tracing patterns with the tip of your finger on the back of his hand. Many would argue that this didn't seem like a bad thing. Why would something so intimate with someone he was in love with be a mistake? Well, the issue was that you were doing it in a totally platonic way.

You were doing it mindlessly too, as you engaged in idle conversation with Phoenix opposite you, which almost made it worse. Bob Floyd's brain was whirring at a million miles per second over something you were doing without even thinking about it. It took every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from moving. Closer to you or further away, he didn't know. But he tried to stay still. So very still. Just so you'd keep doing it.

He was also desperately trying to pay attention to the story you were telling Phoenix, about the latest bad first date you'd been on. It appeared to be a regular thing with you. A string of first dates where you knew before you'd even ordered the entrées that they wouldn't be the right guy for you. And you always had valid reasons, at least in Bob's opinion.

"He told me he doesn't like sunsets." You groaned. "Like, who doesn't like sunsets?"

Bob personally loved sunsets.

Phoenix frowned at you. "Did he give a reason why?"

Bob imagined that Phoenix was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, she was the one who'd set you up with this guy. But he was thankful for it. He didn't know what he'd do with himself when you finally managed to find the right guy and it wasn't him.

"Something about the day ending and having a mindset about being on the grind I think, I don't know." You sighed, pausing your finger's movement against the back of Bob's hand for a moment before carrying on. He almost had a heart attack when you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and started leaning against him as well.

"Sorry it didn't work out. I can find you another guy maybe, umm..." Phoenix trailed off with a thoughtful hum.

But you waved her off. "No, it's okay. I think I'm done with blind dates for now."

Bob's head snapped towards you. Oh?

"If you're sure." Phoenix started to rise from the table, pressing her hands into the wooded surface. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you two tomorrow."

"Goodnight, see you tomorrow." You smiled at her, nudging Bob with your elbow when he stayed silent.

He flinched away from you. "Ow! What? Oh. Yeah, goodnight."

Phoenix's eyes flicked between the two of you, an amused huff leaving her mouth before she gave you both a mock salute and left the bar.

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment as you relaxed against Bob's shoulder a little more.

"What about you? Ready to call it a night?" You asked, turning to rest your chin on his bicep so you could look up at his face.

He glanced at you briefly, turning away again when he realised how close your faces were in that position and cleared his throat. "No, I'm good here for a little longer. If you are?"

You nodded and sat up, extracting yourself from his touch completely. Bob almost sobbed at the loss of contact.

"Yeah, I'm good." You paused to take him in, how he wasn't looking directly at you. He did that sometimes. You always figured he was just a little awkward about eye contact. Which was a shame considering his eyes were your favourite shade of blue.

Bob did flicker his eyes towards you then, wondering why you were staring at him silently. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" He turned to face you properly, knees angled towards you to show that you had his full attention. "What about?"

You looked at him for a few seconds too long, enough to make him anxious and you think that maybe you'd given something away with your eyes. "You know how when we met we just clicked?"

Bob was surprised at that question. But he knew exactly what you meant. So he nodded. "Yeah."

You scrunched your nose and looked away from him for a second. "Well, I'm not clicking with any of these guys I'm going on blind dates with."

He knew that, you’d said as much. So he really didn't know where you were going with this. "Okay...”

"I just wish it was as easy as it was with you. Like we just work together so perfectly, I don't even feel like I'm trying with you."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking sideways at you. "Uh-"

Your eyes widened and you were quick to clarify, hands held up in apology. "And not like I don't put any effort into it with you but just like I don't feel as if I'm constantly trying to make it work, y'know?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

You sighed frustratedly. "Do you get what I'm trying to say here, Bob?"

"Not really." He shook his head and gave a weak, apologetic smile.

You chuckled. "I'm trying to say that I've never clicked with a guy like I have with you."

"Right." He straightened up.

"But we're just friends." You said slowly.

He hesitated. "Mhm."

You squinted at him. "To cut it short I'm trying to say that I think I'm in love with you."

Bob could have fallen out of his seat.

"Oh!"

Now, that caught him really off guard.

"Well, I'm trying to figure out my feelings for you. Because they're certainly more than friendly!" You laughed quietly. "Which isn't really fair. To me or to you. But it's gotta be done because I'm sick of not clicking with men and being on dates where I'm just constantly thinking of how much easier it would be if I were sat across from you instead."

Bob ignored most of your rambling, fixating on one little statement. "Why's it not fair?"

Your face crumpled momentarily. "It's going to make it awkward for you if I am in fact in love with you. And it's unfair for me because I might be in love with a guy who only views me platonically."

Bob looked at you for a moment, eyes wide and almost pleading, and uttered your name softly.

You frowned. "What?"

He gave you a meaningful look.

"You do view me platonically, right?" You leant backwards. "Right?"

He glanced away from you before looking back, giving a short and sharp shake of his head. No.

The world shook around you.

"But- but you never made a move. I thought that you..." You trailed off into distressed thought.

"Oh, I made moves. Just not very obvious ones apparently." He cleared his throat with a quick cough, scrunching his face momentarily in embarrassment.

"Why did you never just say?"

"I guessed that you weren't interested since you never seemed to reciprocate my- my moves." He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed at the thought of his moves.

"But I'm all over you!" You exclaimed. "I'm so touchy!"

He froze and turned to you stiffly. "I thought you were just like that. With everyone!"

"Have you ever seen me touch another human being half as much as I touch you?" You said monotonously.

"Well..." He thought about it. He hadn't. You gave hugs, sure. But you certainly didn't stand with your head resting on anyone's shoulder, arms wrapped around their bicep like you did with him. You didn't sit next to anyone, legs resting over their thighs, like you did with him. You definitely didn't trace patterns on the back of anyone's hand like you had been with him earlier.

You let him think about it for a few moments before interrupting his thoughts. "You didn't answer my question. Why didn't you just say?"

Bob looked deep into your eyes, recognising the look of regret he could feel within himself. "By the time I had the courage to... the friendship was already solidified. And I thought it would ruin it."

"Oh, Bob." You smiled widely at him. "You should've said something. I had a huge crush on you when we first met."

Have a huge crush. Have.

He perked up slightly. "You did?"

No. Do.

"Yeah! I buried it after a while because I figured you weren't interested. And now I'm realising that I'm probably in love with you anyway." You found it almost funny how the two of you seemed to be in the exact same situation and yet had no idea how the other was feeling.

He decided to be honest. "It would certainly brighten my day if you were."

You had a thought suddenly. "Walk me home?"

Bob felt a sense of whiplash from the rapid change in topic. But didn't question it. "O-okay."

You grinned at him and motioned for him to get up, following him out of the booth and grabbing his hand once you were stood next to him. Not having to worry about closing out a tab with Penny since you'd been paying for drinks each time you ordered, you didn't hesitate in dragging him behind you out the back door of the Hard Deck and onto the beach.

You took a glimpse at Bob next to you, finding him already watching you. "Figured we could do the moonlit beach walk on the way back to my place."

He just nodded, not missing the way you were still grasping onto his hand as the two of you started walking in the direction of your home. The moonlight beach walk wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. You'd done it countless times before, in fact. It was just a nice thing to do that happened to involve some nice views that you both enjoyed. It just felt different this time, Bob thought to himself.

He had to ask. "Your last blind date, did he really not like sunsets?"

You looked at him, delighted by the seemingly random question. "Yeah. How off-putting is that?!"

"Very." Bob mumbled. "Y'know... I really like sunsets."

Ah, you saw what he was getting at.

"I know." You chirped. "I'll never forget the sunset on the day we met when you explained that the reason they're so colourful is because of the way the light scatters through the atmosphere. It was very purple that night."

His eyebrows shot up. He'd forgotten he'd told you that. But you were right. It had been very purple. He'd watched you take about thirty photographs of the sky. And knew then that he was in trouble.

The rest of the walk back to your place was quiet, a few passing comments made between the two of you as you pointed out a cute dog and Bob showed you where new flowers were beginning to blossom on a tree you regularly saw. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole time, swinging gently between your bodies.

It was easy. Just how it should be.

Silence shrouded the two of you as you approached your front door, wondering what was supposed to come next. Bob was still hung up on your sudden abandonment of your conversation back at the Hard Deck as you stopped at your door. Why had you dropped it?

The question escaped him as you suddenly tugged him a lot closer, so your chests almost touched, and lowered your voice.

"Come inside."

It wasn't proposed as a question, or even a request, but as more of a statement. Like you were telling him that he should follow you into your home to find out what happens next. Because of this, Bob could only reply with one thing.

"Okay."

There was no turning back now.

You beamed at him and rushed to unlock your door, flicking on a light switch once it was open and ushering him in behind you. Bob had been to your place countless times before, even crashed on your couch once or twice after nights there had run a little too long, but this time felt different. Just like the walk on the beach had.

He supposed it was because of what the two of you confessed earlier that night. But he still couldn't shake the thoughts about the fact that the conversation hadn't carried on to a point where he knew what was going to happen next between the two of you. Bob wanted answers. And he guessed that they were hidden in the depths of your home.

You guided him to your kitchen, offered him a drink which he politely declined, and stopped suddenly in the middle of the room to turn on your heel and look at him.

"Do you know why I asked you back here?"

He stilled a few paces in front of you. "Honestly? No."

You smiled at that. "Because I decided that I am."

Bob was even more confused. "Am what?"

You barked out a laugh like you suddenly realised you'd left out half of your sentence and that what you'd said had made no coherent sense. "In love with you. Absolutely head over heels. One hundred per cent.”

He said nothing in reply, sensing that you had more you wanted to say. He was right.

"And I wanted to be able to explore that possibility for us without prying eyes. In the privacy of my home." You huffed, slightly frustrated. Bob took a single step towards you. "I don't- I don't know how to say this."

He closed the gap, hands resting on your arms to reassure you. You'd never struggled to tell him anything and he certainly didn't want that to start now. "It's me. You can say anything to me. You know that. It's okay."

When you met his gaze again, your eyes were slightly glassy with tears. But you blinked them away. They were angry tears at yourself for taking this long to get to this point with him. It should've happened so much sooner.

Your eyes flickered to his lips. Bob knew what that meant, he was feeling it himself, but wanted you to say it.

Letting out a slightly shaky laugh, you composed yourself. "You might need to let me spiral and talk for a minute."

He smiled softly, surprised he wasn't doing his own spiralling and talking in this situation. "That's okay."

You nodded and sighed. "Okay, so. I don't want things to change between us. Well, I do. But, like, not everything. I still want us to be us. I still want to be able to tell you everything and have easy conversations and just go for walks on the beach and talk about meaningless things and have you explain stuff to me that you think I'll find interesting and sit close to each other just because we can not because we have to."

You stopped for breath and Bob felt like he was having to restrain his heart from bursting out of his chest.

"We'll still just be me and you and things will be easy between us. Like they always have been. But now... instead of sleeping on my couch after late nights, you'll- you'll sleep in my bed. And we'll kiss and, god, have a lot of sex I hope."

Bob chuckled at that and you joined him, happy to see that he wasn't freaking out at everything you were saying.

"We'll still be me and you but just... evolved. Right?"

Bob had started the evening knowing he was head over heels in love with you. He couldn't believe the night was ending with that love somehow growing even more, combining with yours to create some force that defied the laws of nature. The room was practically swimming in it, he could feel it prickling at the surface of his skin and taste it on the top of his tongue.

He nodded firmly at you. "Me and you but evolved."

You visibly relaxed under his hands and smiled giddily up at him. "Great, can you kiss me now?"

You didn't have to ask Bob twice.

The kiss started off sweet, almost innocent. A few, slightly open mouthed, pecks as the two of you giggled against each other. It was something new for the two of you. So even thought it felt right, it was still new territory to explore. But it didn't take long for it to take a turn. As soon as you opened your mouth fully to lick gently against Bob's lips, it was like something in him snapped.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you flush against him, chest to chest, and his other hand tangled in the back of your hair. His nose crammed into your cheek, his glasses falling slightly askew, as he licked into your mouth hotly with his head angled down to meet you halfway.

Your head whirled with the thought that he was good at this. Bob Floyd was an extraordinarily good kisser. Why hadn't you done this sooner?

You let out soft moans to encourage him despite him not even seeming shy about the idea anymore. In fact, Bob had no sense of restraint left in him. He'd waited so long for this, for you. And now he was lost in the feeling of your skin against his and the sounds you were making in reply to what he was doing. Which is why he let his hands drift across you more, not anchoring his touch to any specific place.

You felt like you were on fire, no time to breathe as breaks for oxygen were mere fractions of a second long. You'd never imagined him being capable of making you feel like this so quickly. Your lower abdomen burning with desire and your panties already practically soaked through. And he hadn't even touched you intimately yet. You could only hope that you were having half the same effect on him.

Bob's hands lowered themselves slowly, tracing along your ribcage, circling your waist, gripping at your hips, before he tentatively let them rest on your ass. You hummed in motivating appreciation and pushed yourself up even more to kiss him impossibly harder. He took that as a good sign, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them and rocking your pelvis towards his. Where you found that he was hard.

A noise rumbled in your chest, leaking out as a high pitched whine directly into his mouth.

Bob pulled away with a slight look of concern in his eyes which now held almost no trace of the blue shade you'd come to adore, pupils blown wide enough to engulf his irises. "Is this too much? We can slow down."

You shook your head, slowing down being the last thing you wanted. "No, I'm just surprised that you're so... handsy. I always thought you were a gentleman."

"Oh." He blushed a deep red, the colour reaching the tips of his ears. "I'm just eager, I guess. We can wait. I mean, I can wait. If it's too much."

You leaned back in closer to him, lips brushing across his. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"

He did.

Somehow the second round of kissing was even more searing, almost consuming, than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand gripping tightly onto his hair and tugging occasionally. Bob didn't let up squeezing at your ass after he'd realised that the sound you'd made previously was one of pleasure and not pain, rocking your hips into his a couple times more for good measure.

When his lips moved to trail a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, your eyes practically rolled back into your head. This was too good to be true. You were stood in your kitchen, at almost midnight, and Bob was sucking a hickey into your neck. How was this even real?

You realised that if you didn't move soon then the two of you were going to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. And whilst you weren't totally against the idea, you figured you should at least offer him the comfort of a bed for your first time together.

"Bedroom, Floyd. Now." You gasped, grasping his hair to pull him away from your neck. But when you got a good look at him, you almost abandoned the idea completely. His hair was ruffled from where you'd been pulling at it, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, his face was flushed a rosy pink, his lips were swollen and kiss bitten, and his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. He was a sight to behold.

You snapped back to reality, fixed his glasses so they sat correctly on his face, clenched your legs together, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to tug him behind you towards your bedroom. Bob, of course, had no complaints about this and followed you very happily. After watching you kick off your shoes as the both of you scurried down your hallway, he did the same. Not many thoughts were occurring in his brain at that moment, not any clean ones anyway, but one thing was certain as he looked at you: he'd never wanted someone more.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind him and before he had the chance to take in any of his surroundings he was pressed up against it and your lips were on his again, your hands desperately clutching at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants.

"Why- do- you- always- wear- your- uniform?" The question was asked between fiery kisses. Not that you were complaining. You loved to see him in his uniform. But he always looked so formal.

Bob waited until you were too distracted trying to unbuckle his belt to kiss him so he could get his answer out fully. "You once told me I look handsome in it."

You paused and tilted your head up to look at him. Taking in his open expression, you could tell that he was being honest. "God, I fucking love that you listen to me."

He laughed momentarily before his jaw snapped shut and he swallowed thickly as you began fumbling with his belt buckle again. "Your hands are shaking."

The observation was simple but had you freezing anyway. "Care to help a girl out then?"

Bob could tell that you were getting anxious, nerves suddenly overruling the initial excitement and lust. He could understand. He was currently running on the high of you dragging him to your bedroom. Maybe you also needed something like that to keep you going.

He glanced over your shoulder towards your bed and nodded towards it. "Lie down."

Bob watched as the fire quickly re-ignited in your eyes and you did as you were told, bouncing on the mattress as you sprawled yourself across it. Undoing his belt completely, he took a few steps towards you until he stood between your open legs.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him eagerly. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it and crawled across it until he was hovering over you.

You hummed quietly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Hmm, I like this position."

He leaned in close, as if going to kiss you. "I thought you might."

His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. It was a tone you'd only had the privilege of hearing a few times before. During late nights when he was tired and could barely keep his eyes open as you continued to talk his ears off with meaningless nonsense but did so anyway just so he could listen to you talk. When he'd held you close to him during crowded nights at the Hard Deck and spoken directly into your ear so you could hear him over the sounds flooding the place. Moments that were intimate between you both but you'd been too oblivious to see as more than platonic.

It was the voice that Bob Floyd used to flirt with you.

You pulled back, wide eyed, to get a good look at him. "Oh, my god. You have made moves."

His brows scrunch for a moment, a confused laugh bubbling out of him. "Yeah, I said so earlier."

"I know but that voice." You poked his chest accusingly. "It's your flirty, sultry, bedroom voice! You've used it on me before!"

"It's not my-" He paused, thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Maybe you're right."

"I like it, it's hot. Do it again." You giggled when he rolled his eyes, reaching your hands up to start unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

"And what would you like me to say?" His voice dipped back down to the low tone and you had to suppress a shiver.

"Anything. I just like hearing you talk." You reached the last button and helped him slide the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that you knew always resided underneath. The brown uniform shirt was discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"How about how I think it's time for you to start removing some clothes? Since my shirt's off and my belt is unbuckled." His raised a finger to trace along the neckline of your t-shirt.

You whined. "Not fair. You're not even showing any skin yet. If I take my shirt off then all I've got is a bra on underneath."

Bob chuckled, low voice lost for a moment. "Is my white t-shirt not the equivalent of your bra?"

You pondered it for a moment. Maybe he was right. "Depends if you like the way my tits look in this bra as much as I like the way your biceps look in that white shirt."

He took a quick glance at his arms which were caging you into the bed, hand planted on either side of your head. "My biceps, huh?"

"A weakness of mine, I admit." You shrugged and sat up, pushing at his chest to give you some room. "Have to stop myself from biting them when I rest my head on your shoulder."

"For the record, I'd totally let you."

With a laugh you took Bob's hands in yours and guided them to the hem of your shirt, giving him a nod of confirmation. "You would now but let's be honest, it would've been a little unusual of me to just suddenly bite you before."

He tried desperately to keep eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have said a word of complaint."

"I'll remember that for the future." You paused and noticed his frozen stare. "You're allowed to look, y'know?"

He knew but he was holding himself back with the knowledge that he'd probably go feral once he saw you without a shirt on. Just below his eye line he could tell that the bra you were wearing was lacy and pretty much see-through. He took a deep breath before looking properly and let out a very low groan when he saw that your nipples were hard and very visible through the fabric.

Bob's dick twitched in his pants at the sight. He feared he wouldn't last very long once the two of you actually got going.

You leant back on your hands and watched him look over you. It was kind of entertaining and certainly a confidence booster for you. "Like what you see?"

His eyes met yours again. "Shut up. You know I fucking do."

That sent a ripple of heat through you. Despite knowing him for so long, you'd never heard Bob curse. He'd let out the occasional damn at big inconveniences but never anything more than that. You figured it was part of him being such a gentleman and the fact that he loved to point out that his mother raised him right.

"Careful, Floyd. That dirty mouth will get you in trouble." You flattened your back onto the bed again, pulling him down on top of you by a handful of his shirt.

"If by trouble you mean with you underneath me then I'm willing to take that risk." His voice somehow got lower, a raspy edge being added to it. It's like he knew exactly how to break you.

You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him down to kiss you again, you'd gone too long without feeling his mouth on yours, and you revelled in the grunt he let out against your lips.

This was a whole new side to Bob that you were seeing. And you were loving it. Somehow it was still so easy, the two of you continuing to just bounce off of each other and the sexual chemistry was luckily just naturally there as well. You thought it may have been slightly awkward between you but you'd never felt so confident about sleeping with someone in your life.

Bob realised he should probably check something before the two of you got any further so pulled away momentarily. "Do you have a condom?"

"Oh, yeah! Wait, hang on-" You slid away from him, hanging over the edge of the bed to rifle through a drawer in your nightstand. Producing a small box, you waved it triumphantly at him.

"Hoping those blind dates were going to be successful, huh?" He teased, reaching out to grab your waist to drag you back underneath him. He was relieved you had the box but if you didn't then he knew it wouldn't have stopped him from doing other things to you until you were able to buy some condoms.

Your jaw dropped. "No! Just never underprepared."

"I applaud your readiness. I'm sure if the apocalypse hits then we'll be thankful for your supply of condoms."

"If the apocalypse hits then we'll be tasked with repopulating the Earth and have to have lots of unprotected sex to do so." You bit back playfully, glad to see when his eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the mention of doing it raw. "Oh, you like that thought, huh?"

"You caught me. Guilty." He raised a hand in surrender before gesturing at you. "Now let's get naked so we can have lots of protected sex."

You had to fight back a surge of laughter but let a few giggles escape when you found Bob looking at you with an amused look of his own. You were glad that the two of you were still able to joke and be you even in an intimate moment like this, relieved that it didn't suddenly become serious.

Clothes were discarded and quick kisses were exchanged as the two of you inched closer and closer to where you both really wanted to be. After your bra had been unclasped and thrown into the void with every other item of clothing, and Bob had thoroughly explored your chest with both his hands and mouth, you fell back onto the bed with him on top of you for another round of kissing. It's like the two of you couldn't keep your lips separated for longer than necessary.

His bare chest pressed into yours, a sheen of sweat gliding between you, as he rocked his hips against you, grinding his hard length into your clothed pussy.

If you'd told Bob at the beginning of the evening that this was how his night would end then he would've laughed and told you he didn't believe you. But now that he was here, he couldn't have imagined it any other way. That's what made him realise that enough was enough.

He suddenly broke the kiss and sat up again, kneeling in between your legs. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of your panties, he made eye contact with you. "May I?"

You nodded vigorously.

Bob shook his head. "Words."

You could've orgasmed right there and then. "Yes, you can."

He took that answer and started to slide your panties down your legs slowly, helping you to lift your hips to get them off easier. Once they reached your ankles he plucked them off and cast them aside, planting a quick kiss on your calf before lowering your legs either side of him again.

You reached for the condoms to pass them to him, aware that you were only the one step of removing his underwear away before he'd finally be inside you.

But he pushed your hand aside, choosing instead to slide his palms down your thighs. "In a minute."

"We haven't got forever, y'know. Get on it." You laughed, curious as to what he was doing.

"Gotta get you ready first." He mumbled, pushing your legs apart so he could see better.

Oh? "I can assure you that I'm plenty ready and wet and would like your dick inside me now please."

"So polite." He hummed with a smile on his face. "And I can see how wet you are. Just gotta make sure that you're relaxed enough to take me."

"Somebody's confident about their size, huh?"

He laughed as he shook his head. "Would you rather me not go down on you?"

As much as you were teasing him not to, you very much wanted him to. "Fine, if you insist." You replied with a sigh and an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Bob almost chuckled, but when he looked up into your eyes again he was met with an angelic vision. You were stretched out on the bed, naked, for him. All for him. He reminded himself to thank the universe at some point. But, before that, he needed to thank you by making you come.

He shuffled back on the bed, moving your legs over his shoulders as he did so, and laid flat on his stomach before you. And got to work.

Bob practically devoured you.

You writhed underneath his grasp, one of his arms thrown across your stomach to keep you in place, as he licked and sucked at you. Your clit throbbed against his tongue as he flicked it from side to side over the sensitive spot. One of your hands flew to tangle in his hair as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

"Oh- oh, my god." You panted, chest heaving with laboured breaths. You looked down at him to see that his glasses had fogged up. You let out a slightly strangled laugh at him as he decided to slide a finger into you at that moment.

"Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped and collapsed back onto the pillows.

Bob moaned into you and you let out a cry at the feeling of the vibrations running through you. His finger pumped in and out of you. Slowly at first before he increased the pace and then, once you were somehow even wetter, introduced a second finger.

And with two of his fingers inside of you, bending slightly to hit that sweet spot inside of you, along with his tongue making tight little circles on your clit, it didn't take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen and then suddenly explode through you. Your body shook with pleasure, a tidal wave of profanity and primal noises escaping your mouth.

Bob gave you no time to rest though, surging up your body and kissing you again, giving you a taste of yourself which had you moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back again, you smiled. His glasses were still foggy.

"Can you even see through these?" You asked, reaching up to take them off of him. Wiping gently at the lenses with your bedsheets, you awaited an answer.

"Not really. I usually take them off for this kind of thing. But I forgot. In the excitement." He looked away from you, embarrassed. Funny how he could still be shy despite having just eaten you out like no one else had before.

You hummed quietly, taking his face in your hands to direct him to kiss you again after you'd placed his glasses down on your nightstand as you wrapped your legs around the backs of his and bucked your hips up towards him. "Are we going to do something about you now? Because I know you've been hard since we first kissed."

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed how quickly that happened." The low, raspy voice was back and you felt yourself melting a little on the inside.

"Difficult not to when we were practically dry humping in the middle of the kitchen." You trailed a finger down his torso over his, extremely sculpted, abs and stopped at the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tip of your finger inside.

He watched what you were doing. "I did get a little carried away there, granted."

You paused, asking him the silent question of approval to carry on, before slipping your hand into his underwear and grabbing him. His skin was soft and velvety under your palm and, before you even had the chance to start stroking him, his dick twitched in your hand. "Mmm... so sensitive, Bobby."

He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

You reached for the box of condoms again, realising this probably wouldn't last very long if you did much else with your hand, and pulled one foil wrapper out. Quietly uttering his name to get him to open his eyes again, you pushed the condom against Bob's chest. "Put it on."

He didn't reply, didn't need to reply, just followed your instructions and did as he was told. Straightening up again into a kneeling position, he flailed around a little in an attempt to kick his underwear off. You tried not to laugh. When he succeeded, he ripped the packaging open with his teeth and rolled the condom onto himself in one smooth motion. And then he positioned himself over you, notching the tip of his length at your entrance.

He looked down at you for confirmation to go ahead.

You had one last teasing comment. "Your confidence in your size was warranted."

He huffed out a laugh. "I'd be insulted in your lack of confidence if I didn't love you so much."

Warmth bloomed through your chest. It had been implied several times throughout the night but hearing the words come out of his mouth meant so much more. He loved you.

You beamed up at him. "Glad to know that your love for me overrides any possible offence. I'll be using that to my advantage in future. Now please fuck me, I'm going crazy here."

Bob adored the way you were able to flip a conversation so easily. But he was glad you'd said it as he was beginning to experience his own temporary insanity being on the brink of having sex with you but not quite being there just yet.

He pushed into you slowly at first and then all at once, not being able to hold himself back. Once he'd bottomed out he paused for a moment, a choked groan leaving his throat. You whined at the stretch, glad for the previous orgasm prepping you for this.

"Just- just give me a second." Bob warned you, hanging his head as he took deep breaths.

Patiently, you waited.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to get a grip of himself as he eased out of you before slamming back in again. You gasped at the sensation. He set a pace, a steady yet almost brutal one. The loud sounds of sex filled the room and you hoped your neighbours were long asleep.

Bob buried his face in your neck, using his elbows to keep himself from smothering you. The noises he let out into your skin were heavenly and you were thankful that they weren't too muffled. You clawed as his back, making scratches that you'd have to apologise profusely for the next day.

"Fuck, harder please. Please harder." You didn't think it was possible for him to go any harder, the way he pounded into you already making the headboard shake, but you begged him to anyway. And somehow he found a way.

Your skin prickled with a burn where he slapped against you, one of his large hands sliding down to grip harshly at the flesh of your ass in order to pull you impossibly closer to him. He continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling. The pressure was steadily building in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every thrust of Bob’s hips.

You clung onto his shoulders tightly as you plummeted off the edge, your thighs locking in on either side of him to lock him in place. Bob paused his movements for a second, feeling you clench around him as your throat formed a silent scream that came out as a gasp, and only started up again when you relaxed beneath him.

He pulled away from your neck to look down at you, finding a giddy smile on your face. He kissed you, all teeth and tongues, as he pumped into you a few more times before spilling into the condom. And then he collapsed on top of you.

The two of you stayed there for a couple of minutes, both catching your breath.

“I’m glad you had so many failed dates.” Bob whispered into the glistening skin of your chest.

You laughed quietly. “Me too.”

He eased himself up slowly, pulling out of you with a hiss, to dispose of the condom. “Do you think Phoenix purposely set you up on bad dates so you’d admit your feelings for me?”

You thought about it for a second. “Probably. She knows I’ve had a crush on you for forever. And I can’t think of any other good reason that she’d set me up with a sunset hater.”

Bob pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for you to get in, crawling in beside you. “Can’t believe that guy.”

“I know!” You laughed and turned on your side to look at him. “Wished she’d done it sooner then we could’ve been doing this for a lot longer.”

He joined in on your laughter. “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time now to be doing this a lot more.”

You smiled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled back. “Me too.”

You scooted closer to each other, limbs tangling together into one big mess, softs words of love exchanged between you as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.

A/N: this is the longest thing I think I’ve ever posted as a single thing… hope you enjoyed!

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mothdruid · 2 years

Text

Morning After

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x fem!reader

summary: while at the hard deck you meet a shy guy, but get him to loosen up with some shots. when you two walk home you learn who he is, Bob. Bob goes on the fuck your brains out that night, even stays over at your place. he quickly leaves in the morning, only for you to meet back up somewhere unexpected.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, blow job, cum play, spit play, pet names (angel), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.

a/n: i've been cooking this one up for awhile and had it as an idea for even longer. this is my little crack at the bob fucks idea.

“What are you? A wallflower?” The words come out of your mouth with a particular tone, not one that you had initially intended. Alcohol always tends to do this, making you a bit more loose and unaware of your actions. It was such a drastic change from your normally reserved nature. Phoenix had always teased you about it, saying you became a completely different person when you drank. Eyes narrowed at you behind the glasses, his eyebrows knitting together. But there was a confused smile to the questioning look, one that made your heart flutter.

“I don’t really know what that means.” A rosy flush tinted his cheeks, taking a drink from his beer bottle. You raised an eyebrow, questioning his reply. A gentle smirk pulled at his lips while he looked at your expression. “What?”

“Are you being serious?” All of it was too cute. The way his lips curved into that half smile, words barely forming in his mouth. He took a sip of his beer while shaking his head no. “Like you know,” you nudged his arm with your elbow while your brain buzzed, “someone who knows everything but isn’t a part of it. Stays on the wall of things.” He raised his eyebrows again, biting at his lower lip while you watched him.

“I mean, kind of.” A bit of nervousness laced those words, pointing out that you might have hit some form of nerve. A pang of guilt shot through you, the weight of your words finally catching up.

“Hey, I’m really sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said anything.” A soft look settled on his features, taking in your apology.

“No, you’re good. My friends are alway on my ass about not putting myself out there. I don’t mind, it was just an observation anyways.” You couldn’t help but stare as he adjusted his glasses, pushing the wire frames back up the bridge of his nose. You offered him an awkward smile before taking a drink from your beer. You leaned up against the wall next to his chair, the two of you silently deciding to watch the room together. It had seemed that your friends disappeared from the bar, or maybe your brain just wasn’t registering them anymore. That’s when an idea popped into your brain.

“Do you wanna go do a shot? Maybe two?” He was mid drink of his beer when the words hit him. His eyebrows knitted together slightly, a look of thought on his face. You watched the him intently, finishing off the drink in your cup.

“Ah, sure.”

“Eight hours? How?” A tone of shock was laced in your words, your facial features reflecting the same level of shock.

“It was a big lego set! Like,” he paused for a moment to think, “a lot of pieces.” The two of you laughed at the thought of it. The both of you were five shots later and giggling all over the bar of the Hard Deck. The two of you had chatted about mundane things at first but slowly ventured out. The conversation had covered movie favorites to TV show horrors. Lego sets were the new topic, a personal favorite of the new man that had captured your heart tonight.

The two of you were beyond the point of driving, making you thank yourself for getting a rental unit close to the bar. You knew this man wasn’t able to drive either, not sure whether his friends had also ditched him like yours had. The intention of the night wasn’t to bring someone back home with you. But after being the one who suggested the shots, you felt obligated to take care of him. Bringing him home would be simply that, taking care of him.

A source of warmth brushed your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. The look on his face had changed when you weren’t paying attention. It was a soft look but different from all of his other ones, but with a hint of lust. A heat filled your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours. His hand settled on your thigh, not leaving its place this time. The warmth from his palm radiated into you, making you borderline nuclear.

“This is gonna sound weird, but do you wanna crash at mine?” It was his turn for his cheeks to fill with heat, a blush blossoming over them. Lips parting slightly then closing again, his words not forming in his mouth. Panic had started to creep its way into you. “If you don’t want to though I get it-”

“I’d love to.” A flutter in your chest was all you felt, the panic melting away. He hopped off his bar stool, the hand on your thigh lifting off for only a second. He offered his hand out to you, taking it as you got off your own bar stool. The both of you fished out bills to leave the bartender before leaving.

The cool air was sobering, helping your brain start processing that you were bringing this man home with you. This man that you hadn’t learned the name of yet. “Wait, wait, wait.” The walk had barely started, the both of you on the shoulder of the road until you hit the sidewalk. One of his eyebrows cocked up, a questioning look on his face. “You’re not gonna kill me right? Cause like I don’t even know your name, and now you’re coming home with me and I just have too much going to die like this.” Word soup. Another favorite trait you acquired when drunk.

A strong silence hung between the two of you, a car passing by to break it. A giggle started emanating from him, making it your turn to have a questioning look. The wrinkles near his eyes made your heart warm, the almost undetectable shake of his head catching your eye. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close into his chest as he started walking the two of you down the side of the road again.

“I’m not gonna kill you, I promise.” A small pause had you, metaphorically, on the edge of your seat. “But my name is Bob.”

Bob stumbled through the doorway behind you, hands low on your back. Bob walked a little bit further into the foyer of your house. After you closed the door you pressed your back onto it, you watched Bob lean against the wall. His jaw was tipped up towards the ceiling, staring into the dark abyss. Your fingers crept over to the light switch, flicking the switch and illuminating the area.

“Wowza.” The light seared Bob’s eyes, him squeezing them shut. A giggle crept up inside you, pushing off the door you walked over to him. Bob rolled his head to look at you, opening one eye open. “What are you laughing about?” A big smile tugged at his lips, his body turning to meet yours. The two of you burst out into a laugh, his arm reaching out and pulling you closer to him.

Heat bubbled up into your cheeks, cerulean orbs staring into your own. A gulp was audible, not sure whether it came from you or Bob. One of his hands trailed up, a finger ghosting over your cheek. The warmth of his body covered yours, sending a small shiver down your spine. Your gaze flicked to his lips then back up to his eyes. Bob leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. Suddenly, he was pulling away from you, hand gently resting on your face now.

“I.. I’m sorry.” A worried look had settled onto his features. Your hand covered Bob’s as you looked at him.

"Sorry for what?" Alarms had started going off in your brain. Did you do something wrong? Was bringing him back a mistake? Was he actually going to kill you?

"I…" A softness gathered in his eyes now. "I was gonna kiss you." Your heart fluttered at his words, the heat in your cheeks burning more intensely. “But.. we are inebriated.” It was cute, his use of such a technical word. You shifted a little bit closer to him, only mere inches in between your bodies. You moved to the balls of your feet, pressing your forehead to Bob’s. That perfect cerulean gaze meeting yours.

“Kiss me.” There was a small pause before you felt his lips met yours. It was a gentle kiss, one that you would have expected from a man like him. Bob slowly backed you up against the wall, his one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved to your hip. The hint of alcohol still lingered on the both of you, becoming drunk on each other now. His hips pressed towards you, pinning you against the wall.

Fingers threaded into Bob’s hair, bumping his glasses and making them go slightly askew. His tongue moved over your bottom lips, asking for permission to slide into your mouth. Your lips parted for him, allowing his tongue to swirl around yours, exploring your mouth freely. You pressed your hips into his, rolling them up against his. The hand on your cheek moved along your jaw, pushing back some hair back from your face.

Slowly the two of you undressed each other. A trail of clothes led from the foyer to your bedroom; you flicked the lights on when you passed the door frame of the room. Both your brains were still in a haze from the alcohol. His lips were like fire against your skin, nipping and mouthing the skin of your neck. One hand cradled your face while the other wrapped around your body; palm pressing between your shoulder blades. The pressure of his palm kept you pressed tight against him. The edge of your bed pressed into the back of your knees.

You climbed onto the bed, waiting for Bob to meet you on it. The only article of clothing left to take off were his boxer briefs. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers toying with the band of his boxer briefs. Bob’s mouth was slightly agape, watching your fingers hook under the elastic band. His cheeks reddened even more, gaze stuck on your fingers as they started to drag his underwear down. His cock sprang free, tip glistening with a small amount of precum.

“That feels so good.” A shaky breath left Bob as he felt your tongue lap at his cock. His hand rested on the back of your head; guiding you slowly as you started bobbing up and down his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him adjust his glasses. A moan fell from his mouth every now and then.

You let your spit start to drool down your chin, gathering at the curve of your jaw. Bob brought his free hand to your mouth, groaning while his thumb gathered the drool on your chin. He moved his thumb around your lips, stretched out around his cock as you looked up at him.

“I could stare at you like this forever.” Bob let out a raspy groan when you pulled off of him, tongue dragging along the underneath of his cock.

“That so?” It was the first thing that passed your lips, a small challenge to him. Bob smirked, his thumb rubbing spit on your bottom lip.

“Let me taste you.” Bob’s words were barely above a whisper, almost begging you. His thumb stayed on your lip as you nodded. He sank down onto his knees, both of his hands trailing down your chest. You draped your legs off the bed, him settling between them. His hands palmed at your breasts, thumbs rubbing your nipples. He leaned in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

Bob felt like he was in heaven when your back arched, pressing your chest further into his face. Having someone of this beauty want him? It shocked him. But he kept swirling his tongue around your nipple, his other hand trailing down to your clothed cunt. He let out a moan when he pressed his fingers against your cunt, feeling how wet you were.

“Got this wet from blowing me?” Bob questioned, kissing down your sternum and stomach.

“Got a little excited,” you lifted your hips to help him pull your panties off, “at the idea of you inside me.” Bob kissed his way back up your leg, starting at your mid calf and ending on the inside of your thigh. His lust blown eyes stared at you through his glass. He flattened his tongue and dragged it through your folds. You dropped your head back, holding yourself up on your elbows.

Bob kept up with these languid licks for only a moment longer. He started flicking his tongue against your clit, making you whine loudly. Bob brought his arms around your thighs, locking you in place against his mouth. He kept up his assault, randomly alternating the flicks and stroke of his tongue. At some point you had laid back completely on the bed, back arching hard when he sucked on your clit.

“Oh my..” Your mouth was agape, moans and his name flowing freely from it. His right hand left your thigh, snaking up to your breast and squeezing it.

“You sound like an angel.” Bob moaned, keeping his focus on your clit. His other hand left your thigh, coming down and pushing a finger inside of you. Your walls clenched around the finger, him thrusting it in tandem with his licks. Your hand moved down to his hair, almost catching his glasses in the process. Fuck, those glasses were really doing a number on you.

A second finger entered you, then a third quickly. They were pushing and prodding against that sensitive spot inside of you. “Bob,” you looked down at him, “please..”

“Let go, angel.” It quickly became too much, your orgasm rocking through you. You clenched around his fingers like a vice grip, his tongue giving languid strokes to your clit. Your legs began to shake as Bob kept going, not stopping anytime soon. His fingers kept working you while he started flicking his tongue on your clit again.

“Fu-ck, Bob!” You grabbed at his hair, pulling it hard enough to get his mouth off you. His fingers followed soon after, an empty feeling replacing them. Bob audibly gulped as he looked at you, shaking and already thoroughly fucked. A small kiss was pressed to the inside of your thigh, Bob resting his head against the expanse of your exposed inner thigh. The thin metal frames of his glasses pressing into your skin. A comforting smile was on Bob’s lips, making your heart melt as your orgasm finally started to subside.

“That… was amazing.” You whispered as you laid back on the bed, your hands settling on your stomach. Bob placed a few more kisses on your thigh, moving up your stomach to meet you face to face. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Your fingers played with the metal frames of his glasses slightly. There was a small devilish smirk on his face when he broke the kiss.

"I'm glad you liked it," his arm snaked under your lower back, "but I'm not finished yet." There was that confidence he liked to keep hidden away. His arm tightened around your waist, hiking you up on the bed more. Bob had you in the middle of your bed quickly, settling himself between your legs.

"I shouldn't need these anymore." Bob took off his glasses, setting them on the right bedside table. Bob leaned down and captured your lips again. His forearm was near your head, holding up a majority of his weight. Your legs were spread out for him, one of either side of his waist. One hand traveled up and down your sides, soothing and calming you while moving his cock closer to your cunt.

"You ready?" Bob questioned with a peck to your cheek.

"More than ready." Bob brought the hand from your side down to his shaft, lining himself up. Bob kept his eyes on your face, watching how your eyes fluttered when he ran himself through your folds. The head of his cock rubbing on your clit, sending small waves of pleasure through you.

"Bob." It was a plea. You didn't want teasing, you wanted him stretching you out. Bob bit his lower lip and nodded, the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance.

The stretch of his cock had your head thrown back. Bob let out a soft groan when he sank inside of you. Your warmth welcomed him more and more until he bottomed out. His eyes followed down your chest, watching your chest rise and fall. He brought his hand to the side of your thigh, hiking it up further on his hip. Bob nuzzled into your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin.

"So tight." Bob practically whimpered, his hips slowly pulling back just to slowly press forward. The slow thrusts were agonizing. One of your hands threaded through his hair, your other arm draping around his shoulders. Just as you were about to say something, his thrusts picked up.

Moans poured from your mouth, the head of his cock zeroing in on the sensitive spot inside you. Your walls were clenching hard around him, encouraging Bob to fuck you a little harder. Bob pulled back from your neck, watching your face for a moment. "Wanna see you."

Suddenly, his thrusts stopped. Bob got up and sat back on his heels, keeping your legs spread wide apart. You were at his mercy now, your entire body on full display for him. "This way I can see all of you."

Without hesitation Bob pressed back into you, resuming the pace he was previously at. That sensitive spot being targeted once more. Your hands dug into the comforter underneath you, back arching with pleasure.

It felt like his whole world was spinning, watching you underneath him was beyond intoxicating. Bob watched his cock push in and out of you, watching it stretch you open. The way your tits bounced with every forward thrust had his mouth watering. Groans flowed from him as he watched you become more fucked out.

"You're so fucking pretty." Bob grabbed your legs and set them up on one of his shoulders. His arms tightened around them, keeping your legs closed and tight. The sounds of skin smacking and your wet cunt filled the room. You felt that familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching.

Bob knew you were close again, the clenching of your walls signaling it. Bob started thrusting harder, pounding the sensitive bundle. "Bob, I- oh fuck! Bob!" You tightened around his cock, your orgasm crashing hard. His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you through your orgasm.

"That's it, that's it angel." Bob cooed, talking and fucking you through it. But his hips never slowed, keeping you at some form of high still. Bob moved your legs so one was on each of his shoulders. He watched himself fuck into you for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours.

Bob’s head fell back, his thrusts never faltering as he let out a loud breath. You dragged your hands down his abdomen, “Bob, oh my-”

“One more, I need one more.” The hand on your left calf moved to your clit, thumb rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. He started thrusting faster, keeping the circles tight and quick on your clit. The tightness in your abdomen had already returned, the overstimulation pushing out a rolling orgasm.

When your insides clenched around his cock this time Bob lost it. His hips started to stutter while whimpers fell from his lips. Your hands were both now gripping the comforter, borderline screams falling from your lips. His whimpers turned to groans as his orgasm arrived. Bob pulled his cock out, leaving you empty. He pressed his cock between your folds, rubbing it between them. He unloaded himself all over your clit and cunt, spreading his cum all through your folds.

Bob whimpered out a small ‘fuck’, watching himself fuck his cum through your folds. Your hips shook with pleasure, the slick wet feeling of his cum making you clench. Bob’s hands moved to your legs, rubbing the outside of your legs soothingly. He stopped his movements, looking down at you with an equally fucked out look. You finally registered his new look.

A deep red blush covered his chest to cheeks, hair tousled and messy, with a thin layer of sweat covering him. He sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the side and cocking an eyebrow. His chest was rising and falling fast as he regulated his breathing. “Sorry..” Your eyebrows knitted together at his apology, wondering why he would be apologizing.

“Why?”

“Was it too much?” Bob asked, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. You took in a deep breath, trying to regulate your own breathing.

“No, it was really hot.” You smiled as he removed himself from you. Bob laid down next to you, staring at you as you looked at him. “Huh?”

“Nothing, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You rolled your eyes, surprised that the man that just fucked your brains out would think he didn’t please you. “Uh.. where can I.. clean up?”

It was cute, watching him now slightly awkwardly ask for the clean up. You nodded your head and started sitting up, Bob quickly getting up to help you. Your legs were still shaky as Bob helped you walk to the bathroom.

The two of you cleaned up, Bob being as gentle as possible when he cleaned his come off you. The warm washcloth helped soothe the now slightly raw flesh between your legs. Bob quietly waited outside of the bathroom, waiting for you to pee so he could help walk you back to bed. Bob helped you back to the bed, the both of you slipping on your undergarments and you putting on a big t-shirt before climbing under the covers. The two of you quickly fell asleep, Bob holding you from behind tightly.

The loud noise of the alarm woke the two of you up. Bob sat up swiftly, surprised by the unfamiliar surroundings. You reached out, hand soothingly rubbing his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay.” Bob gave you a weak smile, laying back down next to you. The two of you laid there for a few minutes before getting up. You watched as Bob gathered his clothes, dressing himself after finding them all.

“Do you wanna stay for breakfast?” Bob shook his head no.

“I’d love to,” he moved to grab his glasses from the side table, “but I can’t. I gotta go get ready for work.” He offered you a weak smile, hating having to turn down your offer. You gave him a smile, getting out of bed and walking him to the door. You gave him a goodbye kiss before he left.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” You asked. Bob gave you another smile, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Your morning moved by quickly, shower, breakfast, memories from last night, driving to work. The typical things in your routine. You sat in your car before getting out, thinking about the events of your night. God, you really hoped to see Bob again. If not, at least he gave you a memorable night.

“Quiet this morning, Howler.” Phoenix teased while zipping up her flight suit. “Where’d you disappear to last night?”

“Home. I went home.” You zipped up the front of your suit.

“With?”

“You wouldn’t know him.” You really didn’t want her to know about your escapade last night. Halo chuckled at the two of you.

“Chances are high, if he is a pilot I mean.”

“That’s why.” The three of you giggled as you all finished up. All of you made your way to the hanger, seeing the typical two person tables set up. A few people were already sitting down at the tables. Hangman, Coyote, and someone you didn’t know. They turned around and it hit you. Bob. The man how fucked your brains out was sitting in front of you. His eyes flicked between all of you, landing on you last. They were glued to you, making you stop in your tracks. Of course this would happen, why wouldn’t it?

“What? You scared, Howler?” Jake yelled out, eyes drifting down your stare to Bob. He cocked an eyebrow, staring at the both of you. Hangman didn’t say anything else, turning to make a snide comment at Phoenix. You swiftly made your way to the table behind Bob.

“What the fuck?” You whispered. Bob was bright red, his embarrassment obvious. The confidence he had last night being tucked away.

“I didn’t.. you’re a pilot?” Bob questioned, adjusting his glasses and trying to keep his gaze low while the two of you talked.

“You are too, apparently.” Bob smiled awkwardly, giving a small nod. You couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked like this.

“Gonna introduce me to your friend?” Rooster joked when he sat down next to you. Bradley nudged your arm with his elbow in an encouraging way.

“This.. this is Bob. He is a..”

“WSO. I’m a WSO.” Phoenix pulled that chair next to Bob out, a big grin on her face. Fuck, she knew.

“My most recent backseater.” Her grin painful to you. The teacher started the class, silencing the conversation you all were having.

The class felt like it dragged on. You needed it to end, needed to talk to Bob. Privately. When all of you were dismissed you leaned over your table, getting a knowing smirk from Rooster and Phoenix. Bob turned around when you tapped him on his shoulder. His cheeks were still rosy, making you wonder if he had been blushing all class. “You, me, private.” Bob nodded and got up, the two of you awkwardly excusing yourself from the group for a moment.

The both of you were silent in the side hallway for a moment. He was facing you on one side of the hallway, you leaning against the other side. “So..” You lead.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you.” Bob apologized, making your heart break a little.

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t say anything either.” You said, not wanting him to feel bad. There was nothing wrong with either of you forgetting to mention that you were pilots. “It’s not like we knew we’d be in this group together.” Bob took a few step towards you. His right hand grabbing your left hand, fingers lacing between yours. A smile crept on your lips at his affection. It was something you could get used to.

“At least now we get to see each other again.” Bob’s words were sincere and full of affection. His heart fluttered as he watched you.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” You heard some footsteps, the both of you looking down the hallway to see Natasha.

“Hurry up you two! We are getting ready to head up!” Once she stepped out of sight Bob pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was your turn for a heat to fill your cheeks at the gesture. A happiness spreads through you, glad that he was going to become a constant in your life.

#robert floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd smut #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #robert floyd fluff #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun x reader #bob floyd top gun #bob top gun #top gun maverick #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman

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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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bobbyonboard · 2 years

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Peppermint [Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader]

Summary: i saw this tiktok of lewis pullman and it was so goddamn sexual my brain wouldn’t shut up until i wrote something about it. also know as--it’s 115 degrees in Lemoore and the AC in Bob’s truck is busted.

Warnings: swearing, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, hair pulling, please assume the reader is always on some sort of contraceptive in my fics unless i state otherwise, bob is a switch and no i will not be taking any questions at this time, minors DO not interact with me you lil shits

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: y’all were so nice with my last one regarding Rooster, I had to write one for my main man!!! also cannot get over I have like 300 new followers. never be afraid to come talk to me!!

“Fuck. Off,” you grumbled in the direction of the television as you heard the chipper weatherman inform you that the high today in Lemoore, California was going to be a record-breaking one hundred and fifteen degrees fahrenheit. One hundred and fifteen fucking degrees. You never hated the Navy more than you did in that moment. Who the fuck gets stationed in Lemoore? No beaches, no shade. Just heat, and lots of it. But where your husband goes, you go–and unfortunately, you both were stuck in Lemoore.

The July air was thick and it wasn’t even nine in the morning, so you made sure that you didn’t have a single thing to do that day except stay inside the apartment, laying upside-down on your couch directly in front of your tiny window AC unit. You’d always loved being a teacher, but days like this, when you thought you actually might melt if you went outside, you were sure as hell glad you had summers off.

Your day passed by lazily, only shuffling between the couch and the kitchen to get more water what seemed like every thirty minutes. Before you knew it, it was already four o’clock, and you were expecting Bob home any minute.

Bob had told you that morning he was heading out to run a few test flights on some newer planes, so you expected him to come home freshly showered from the Naval base locker rooms, smelling of Old Spice and car air freshener that had been blasted over his clothes from his aggressive truck air conditioning. But instead, when you lazily glanced over your shoulder to the sound of keys jingling, you were greeted with…well, certainly not that.

Bob’s hair was frizzed and stuck straight up in the back, almost as if he had just taken off his helmet. His clothes were stuck to his skin, large sweat stains covering most of the material of his t-shirt. His cheeks were a dark shade of red, and his eyes looked as though they were currently in the process of holding back unshed tears.

“Bobby?,” you frowned, quickly standing up, crossing the room, and quickly taking his duffel bag from his hand to toss on the floor. “Honey, whassamatter? You okay?,” you asked, putting the back of your hand on his forehead and physically wincing at how hot his skin was to the touch.

“Pipes burst,” was all he murmured out, bottom lip trembling just slightly, and it was quite literally breaking your heart to see him so miserable. “We landed and–and went to go shower and they told us a pipe burst, so the showers weren’t working. So I couldn’t shower and–,” he started to breathe a bit heavier, almost as if his own clothes were weighing him down worse than any g-force.

“I got to the truck and the AC was just blowing out hot air. So I rode all the way home with the windows down and I’m just so hot,” he finally whimpered, and you just brushed his wet hair out of his face with a soft coo.

You hated to see him like this. You couldn’t imagine how hot he had to be in that plane today, only to land and not be able to cool down like his body so desperately needed. An idea suddenly popped into your brain, and you were taking off down the hallway.

“Put your arms up, honey,” you purred ever so gently once you returned, producing a cold packet of wet wipes. You pulled one out of its bag, sighing softly at the gentle smell of peppermint, and you immediately began to wipe down Bob’s face and neck.

“Thank you-u-u-u,” he practically sobbed, arms stuck straight out at his sides as you began to slide the wipes under his t-shirt, along his shoulders, under his armpits, his chest, and his waist. “What does it do?,” he asked after a moment, almost afraid to open his eyes for fear that this was all some fever dream and he’d be standing back on the tarmac, dripping sweat.

“I keep these in my little fridge in the bathroom, with all my skin care stuff,” you hummed sweetly, pulling a fresh wipe out and continuing on the bit of skin where you left off. “It helps me freshen up before I go to bed at night, or when I come back from the gym and I’m just too tired to shower before bed,” you chuckle, ghosting a feather-light kiss over his brow as you continued to work on cooling him down.

“Feels so good,” he whimpered, and his once red cheeks were now only a soft pink, his breathing returning to a relatively normal pace.

“Good, baby. You’ll feel better in just a minute, yeah? Got this AC on you, and you smell all peppermint-y,” you teased, and you don’t know if it was the practically obscene noises Bob was letting out, or the way he was absolute putty in your hands, but you let the wipes in your hand dip a little lower into the waistband of his pants.

A strangled moan escaped Bob’s lips, and you just let one hand pop open the buttons of his pants, sliding them down his legs.

“Gotta get you completely covered,” you whispered, dropping down to your knees where you began to work on wiping down his thighs. After mere seconds, you glanced up to see a ten already forming in your husband’s boxers, and damn, if that didn’t make a girl’s ego soar.

“M’sorry,” he almost cried, shivering under your touch. “Just–feels so good. You make me feel so good.”

“I always wanna make you feel good, honey,” you purred, peppering his thighs with kisses and feeling the leftover peppermint oil tingle your lips. You eventually stood back up (despite a noise of protest from your husband) and stripped him down to only his boxers, getting a final fresh wipe out of the pack and letting it drag along his skin.

“Come sit,” you took his hand, leading him over so he was directly in front of the AC unit, resting on the plush couch as he immediately tossed his head back out let out a pornographic moan, which caused you to clench your thighs together in delight.

“Y’so good t’me,” Bob practically slurred, completely overwhelmed with the lavish attention he was receiving, and his skin began to prickle when the freezing cold air blew against his minty skin.

“You deserve it all, Bobby,” you whispered, moving to straddle his hips, your thin pajama pants and his boxers the only thing separating the two of you as you wiped his cheeks down for the final time, before pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of each one.

Bob said your name with a strangled cry, hips immediately rocking up to get some friction, any friction at all. And who were you to deny such a pretty boy something he wanted so desperately? So you just relaxed yourself slowly, lazily rocking down on his achingly hard cock and letting out a soft moan of your own.

Your nipples were hard from where they were currently being assaulted by a barrage of cold air from the unit, and they were settled right in front of your husband’s face, which proved to make his next task considerably easier. He hooked his fingers in the straps of your tank top and tugged them down your arms before his lips were wrapped around your right nipple, sucking on it lightly and letting it roll between his teeth. You let out a soft cry, your fingers tangling immediately in his damp hair as you began to rock yourself against him a bit faster.

It was only a few minutes before he pulled off with an obscenely wet ‘pop’, letting his head rest against your sternum.

“Y/N–,” Bob choked out, his hips stilling immediately.

“Okay, sweetheart,” was all you said, lifting yourself just slightly out of his lap to give him a moment to focus.

It didn’t take him long at all, because just a second later you were being pushed onto your back on the couch, with your lover’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to the floor. Not a moment was wasted as he immediately licked a long, hot stripe between your folds, fingers digging into your hips.

“Robert,” you gasped, and you swear you could feel that son of a bitch smirk, even face first in your cunt. If his hair wasn’t already a mess, it certainly was now, the way you were tugging on it and rocking your hips against his face to try and get the perfect rhythm.

It didn’t take long. It never did with Bob. He somehow knew exactly what to do to have you coming on his tongue in five minutes flat, keeping your hips pressed down to the couch.

“Bobby–,” you tried to warn, but it was too late. At your cry of his name, he gave a certain flick of his tongue and you were coming fast and hard, riding his face like your life depended on it, his tongue pressed flat against your clit as you shook with each pulse of your orgasm.

You barely had time to think, no less to actually say anything, before he was tugging you into a new position. You were bent over the back of the couch, face perfectly aligned with the air conditioning as Bob got behind you, one knee on the edge of the couch.

“You ready for me, darlin’?,” he asked, and God, you could have died right there.

“Always, baby.”

You felt him slide into you smoothly, using one hand to guide himself and the other slide up your body to your hair, gathering a handful and giving you a harsh tug. The way he bent you had your chest getting covered with cold air, nipples hard enough to cut diamonds.

“Fuck, you always feel so fuckin’ good,” he moaned, putting his other knee on the couch as he began to piston his hips against your ass, the slapping sounds your skin made filling your small apartment, loud enough to be heard even over the roaring AC.

You, however, were unable to respond, due to the absolute overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through your body. Your head and neck began to ache deliciously, and the way the head of Bob’s cock brushed against your sweet spot with each thrust had you mewling under his hands.

“I’m not gonna–,” Bob grunted, and you understood, Whenever he was needy, he never lasted long, and that was certainly fine by you. Like you said–it was an ego boost.

“S’okay, baby,” you panted, and he reached forward to play with one of your tits, his chest pressed to your back as he fucked you even harder.

“So good for me. Fuckin’--fillin’ my pussy up. Fuck, Bobby, you’re gonna make me come again,” you practically sobbed, and the fact that the two of you were sweating from exertion but also cool from the air conditioning made everything that more sensitive.

The praise went straight to Bob’s dick, and you could feel it twitching already.

“Please–,” he gasped, trying so hard to last until he could make you come again.

“Go ahead, honey. Come for me. Come for me, Bobby,” you groaned, wincing in pleasure at how your sensitive cunt was already teetering on the edge of orgasm.

You had barely finished your command before Bob was spilling himself inside of you, letting out a high-pitched whine as he emptied himself. He managed to let the hand that was in your hair slide down your body and move to your pussy, fingers rubbing quickly at your clit.

“Baby, come for me. Wanna feel you come on my cock,” he practically begged, even though he had already orgasmed, he would simply die for the chance to feel you clenching on his softening cock still inside of you, practically milking every bit of come he had given you.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, gripping tight at the back of the couch as you felt your orgasm wash over you for the second time that evening, cringing out softly each time your cunt squeezed your husband’s cock, feeling it nestled deep inside of you.

Soft whimpered and moans spilled from Bob’s lips, along with various words of filth that didn’t exactly form a coherent sentence, but they were so goddamn sexy all the same.

As he pulled out slowly, he leaned over to press a soft kiss to the small of your back before two of you landed in a messy pile on the couch, trying to catch your breath.

You curled up next to him, almost (dare you say) chilly from the constant cold air on your skin, and your eyes closed to enjoy those post-coital moments together before you had to get up and clean yourselves off.

“You know,” Bob started, fingertips brushing lightly over your sides. “Bet we could really cool down in the shower.”

taglist: @walkonthewiidside

people that might be interested in this idk: @bradshawsbaby @callsignbob @thebradleybradshaw

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vivwritesfics · 18 days

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Military Flyover

The dagger squad don't want to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas grand Prix. None of them really knew much about and, those that did only really knew about Nascar.

She hated the Vegas Grand Prix as much as those doing the military flyover. But the cute WSO there to support his friends was making it bearable.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F1 driver!reader

5.6K

a/n: yes a military flyover doesn't make sense for vegas buuuut let a girl dream lol - i'm hoping I've managed to write this for an audience that might not really know f1 but idk how confident i am in my abilities lol

Bob couldn't quite believe what the two time Top Gun graduates were having to do. They had completed an insanely dangerous mission and returned to be permanently stationed in San Diego, except from when they were called away for deployment.

They were a part of the military, why were they doing this?

Well, at least Bob didn't have to actually fly. He was a Weapon Systems Officer, he didn't have to take part in this. But he still went, more to morally support his squad.

Nat wasn't happy about have to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. She, Bradley and Jake were constantly complaining. None of them knew anything about Formula One, not enough to appreciate doing the flyover.

(May I just say, even if they did know about F1, they still wouldn't appreciate it. They'd train for years to be in the navy and now they were having to waste their time on this.)

The flyover was on the Sunday. Only Natasha, Jake and Bradley were taking part. Bob didn't have to go, didn't have to visit the track on the Friday and the Saturday with the three of them.

But Natasha had begged him. "Drive up with me," she'd said to him. "It's five hours and I could use the company."

So, Bob agreed. His dad had sometimes watched Nascar while he was growing up. He didn't know much of anything about motorsport but, if Nat wanted him there, he'd go.

The navy pilots didn't know they'd been invited to meet the drivers. Bob followed Natasha through the paddock. "Getting to meet the drivers might be the only good thing thing to come from this," Nat mumbled as she led the way.

The paddock was buzzing with life. There were cameras following people around, interviews happening as they walked through the paddock. Fans stopped men in team shirts and hats for pictures before letting them continue.

There was a familiar whistle, just loud enough for Natasha and Bob to hear over the crowd around them. They turned and saw Rooster and Hangman striding towards them.

"Where are we meant to be?" Asked Hangman as Rooster pulled off his aviators and looked around. The three of them (Natasha, Jake and Bradley) were in their overalls, looking proper in their uniform. Bob, though. He was dressed down, wearing jeans and a sweater (Vegas really wasn't that warm this time of year), his military issued glasses sitting on his nose. He looked cute, even if he didn't know it.

"Cyclone said the Ferrari garage, right?" She said as she looked between the other aviators. Bob, who had studied the itinerary, nodded his head and the four of them set off towards the red garage.

***

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a joke. All of the drivers thought so.

The Ferrari drivers weren't happy about it (just like the rest of the grid). They had spent the season struggling behind the Red Bulls and driving on an unknown track wasn't going to help that.

She needed a lot of mental preparation for this one. Just like the other drivers, before the first practice session her only experience on the track had been through sim racing. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been before.

She donned her red fireproofs, the overalls hanging from from her hips. She pulled her cap onto her head when there was a knock on her driver room door. "Yeah?" She called and the member of Ferrari staff walked in.

"The navy pilots are on their way," she said and went to back out of the drivers room.

"What?" The Ferrari driver called suddenly, her brows furrowed. "What navy pilots?"

The member of staff gulped. "They're doing a military flyover before the Grand Prix," she said. "They're on their way here to meet you and Charles," she said.

The driver let out a huff. She grabbed her drinks bottle and marched out of her drivers room, heading to find her teammate.

Charles was doing an interview for Sky Sports when she walked through the garage. She didn't much care, though. She powered on, her hand on Charles's shoulder as she stood at his side. "Chuck," she said, looking at her teammate.

Lawrence Barretto moved his microphone back to his mouth. "Is that his official name for the Vegas Grand Prix?" He asked and moved the microphone towards her.

"Yes," she said as Charles shook his head, repeatedly saying 'no'.

She stood beside him until the interview was over, answering any question Lawrence sent her way. As soon as they were done she grabbed Charles and pulled him away, pulling him further into the Ferrari garage.

"What's up?" Charles asked. He was a brilliant teammate, one of her best friends. They'd known each other for yeas and were close enough for people to think they were together at one point. Brocedes 2.0, many commented on the pictures of the two of them posted on the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram account, as if they were a disaster waiting to happen.

"Did you know we're having to meet the navy pilots doing the military flyover?" She asked, hands on her hips.

Charles furrowed his brows. And then his face relaxed as he shook his head at her. "Start checking your emails, please," he said.

She gently pushed him as a member of the Ferrari staff, the same girl from before, approached them. "They're here," she said and left them to it.

Charles led the way back through the garage, heading to where the navy pilots were standing around his car. Three of them, the three that looked the part, chatted with Fred while one, one that was dressed down, stood to the side.

Suddenly, she pulled Charles out of sight. "What is it?" He asked quickly, concern written on his face.

She looked back around the corner at the pilots for just a second. "Holy shit, Cha, I think I'm in love," she said and Charles just laughed.

"Do you need a wingman?"

She furiously shook her head. "Don't you bloody dare."

She steadied herself and followed Charles over to the navy pilots. Fred spotted his drivers first. He gestured over to them as he back away from the pilots, letting the drivers take over.

Charles held his hand out towards them introducing himself first. She went next, giving them her name as she reached out to shake the woman's hand.

"Natasha Trace," she said with a smile as she shook her hand. "Callsign Phoenix."

She moved on to the man with the moustache. "Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster," he said and shook her hand, his grip firm. He wore a smile, but it was respectful.

Unlike the man next to him. She could tell who he was from the moment she looked at him, wearing that flirty smile. "Jake Seresin," he said, pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "You can call me Hangman."

The smile dropped from her face and she pulled her hand away, clearly unimpressed. She looked past him, at the guy in the sweater and the glasses. "How about you?" She asked, completely ignoring Hangman. "Are you in the navy too?"

Bob blushed bright red as he stepped forward. "Robert Floyd," he said and shook her hand. "I'm a weapon systems officer."

"Oh," she said. Just that one word and she sounded incredibly fascinated. "Do tell me more."

She'd asked Charles not to wing man her, but he did it anyway. She might not have been aware as Charles spoke to the other navy pilots, doing the job for both of them. (Charles didn't know if Bob was the one she had fancied, but it was easy to guess. He looked like her type).

They spoke for a good twenty minutes before the drivers were told to wrap up the conversation. "You got a call sign?" She asked Bob as she crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the wall.

Jake had been wrapped up in the conversation he, Rooster and Phoenix were having with Charles until that point. Upon hearing her question, he placed his arm around the WSO's shoulders and grinned at the driver. "This is Baby On Board," he said with a grin, going to pinch Bob's cheeks.

Again, his cheeks were flaming as he stepped away from Jake. "It's Bob," he said. "Just Bob."

"Just Bob," she repeated as she smiled at him, completely ignoring everything Jake had said (something that Bob was grateful for). "It's simple, I like it."

Her engineer called for her. She turned and put her thumbs up before turning back to Bob. "Are you staying for the free practice?" She asked and Charles couldn't stop himself from answering.

"Sorry," he said to the pilots. "She doesn't read her emails."

She sent a glare in Charles's direction. The drivers said a quick goodbye to the navy pilots (although she hoped it wasn't for the last time), and got themselves ready for the first practice session in Las Vegas. They pulled up the red and white overalls and placed the balaclavas over their faces.

Bob watched as she pulled her helmet on, hiding her undeniably pretty face. He really did think she was beautiful, and she seemed interested in him, but he wasn't going to read too much into that.

He couldn't see as she gave him a smile from beneath her helmet. When she climbed into the red car with the number 53 on it, Bob knew which one he had to look out for.

The track wasn't ready, everybody knew it. But they didn't know how bad it was until they shower of sparks coming out the back of her car. "What the fuck was that?" She said to her engineer down the radio. "I just hit a fucking manhole cover."

The pilots were leaning forward as she stopped the car. The session was stopped, the other drivers coming into the pits. She jumped out of the car, waiting for it to be lifted onto the truck so that she could look at the extent of the damage beneath.

As the car was taken back to the garage and workers surrounded the manhole cover, she climbed into the medical car and was taken back to the pitlane.

Bob watched as she stormed into the garage, pulling off her helmet and balaclava. "Nine fucking minutes!" She heard her say to somebody in a Ferrari shirt. "I officially hate the Vegas Grand Prix."

She looked around the garage, eyes focusing in on the pilots. They were watching her, too, and she forced her expression to soften as she walked over. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, unzipping her race suit.

Bob shook his head. "'s no worries, ma'am," he said before he could stop himself. When his fellow aviators looked at him, his cheeks flushed red.

"We're just glad to know you're okay," Natasha said for him.

The driver smiled at them. But the interaction was short lived as she was called over to her wrecked car. (It looked fine on the top, but everybody knew the damage was beneath, invisible).

The nine minutes of practice wasn't enough to help the aviators get into F1. Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix wanted to head back to their hotels, but Bob wanted to stick around.

"My dad was into Nascar," he explained as the others left. They nodded, but they knew better. Their Baby On Board had a crush.

She hadn't expect him to stay, that much was clear. She'd seen the other aviators leave and had gotten on with what she needed to do, speaking to the mechanics about the parts they needed to replace and speaking to Fred about the potential consequences.

"Oh!" She said when she saw Bob still sitting there. "I thought you would have left."

Bob gave a polite smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to learn more."

The smile she gave him matched his own. "Well, you're not gonna learn much here," she said. "Let me get changed and we can get dinner."

Bob didn't expect dinner to be in the Ferrari hospitality suite. He'd didn't exactly think he'd be going out to dinner with her, but he didn't expect this.

She sat Bob down at a table and got a selection of food for them to share. "I can't exactly go crazy," she'd said as she sat down opposite him, placing the single plate in between them. "I still have a car to drive later."

Bob grabbed something from the plate. "Why does that mean you can't go crazy?" He asked curiously, innocently.

Every question Bob had, she answered. He told her that his dad watched Nascar while he was going up but he couldn't get into it. Didn't have the time once he joined the navy.

She asked him all about that, just as curious as he was about her job. Bob knew she was meant to be this big celebrity, but she was normal with him, and he really appreciated it.

He hadn't known who she was going into this weekend, but he heard the way the fans screamed her name. She was so famous, and he was just a boy from Montana.

"Are you and your friends watching anything else of the Grand Prix weekend?" She asked as she ate a piece of lettuce (literally just holding a big piece of lettuce to her lips and crunching on it).

Bob shook his head as he looked down at the table in front of him. "'Friad not, ma'am," he said, looking at her over the top of his glasses. Bob didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he took them off.

"Aw," she said with a pout. "I liked them."

"Really?" Bob couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "I used to have ones with slightly thicker frames, but these are military issued," he explained, putting them back on his face.

She grinned at him. "They're cute," she said, resting her cheek in her hand. It was undeniably flirty, and her grin was only making it worse. Well, that would have been if Bob could have allowed himself to believe that was flirting with him.

"I could get you tickets, if you'd like," she said. "You and your pilot friends. You can come back back to the Ferrari garage, support us for the rest of the weekend."

Bob gave her a gentle smile. "I'd like that," he said.

They continued chatting until she had to head back to the garage. Bob followed her, walking behind her.

She took him back to the garage, leaving him to stand with the rest of the Ferrari guests while she disappeared into her drivers room. Bob couldn't help but think of her as she got herself ready, getting dressed into her fireproofs and race suit. If Nat was here, he could ask her for advice.

Ten minutes before the start of FP2, she walked over to Bob. He'd seen her dressed down in a Ferrari hoodie and cute cargos, seen her in her race suit, and seen her in her fire proofs, race suit sitting low on her hips.

That was how she walked towards him. He'd seen so little of her, but this was his favourite (and he certainly wanted to see more). "Want to sit in the car?" She asked, hands on her hips.

***

The first thing she did after FP2 was give Bob her phone number. He couldn't quite believe it, and made a mental note to recount everything to Natasha as soon as he got back to the hotel.

"Have you got a way back to your hotel?" She asked, her helmet tucked beneath her arm.

"I, uh..." No, he and Natasha had gotten a cab together.

She waved him off before he could give her a proper answer. "I can drive you, if you'd like," she offered.

That was how Bob found himself sitting in an F1 drivers car, telling her about his childhood as she took him back to his hotel. He told her about his big family and the mountains he grew up around. He told her about when he joined the military, about his first time in Top Gun and his permanent stationing in Coronado.

Before very long they were pulling up outside of his hotel. "Well, here we are," he said, patting his legs. He didn't move to leave the car, but she didn't much mind.

"I really liked meeting you today, Bob," she said as she tapped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel.

"It was lovely to meet you, too," he said.

"Promise you'll text me?"

"Promise."

She held out her pinky finger and Bob wrapped his own around it, sealing the deal. He looked at her one last time and climbed out of the car, heading into the hotel.

Bob couldn't hide his smile as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Just days ago he'd hated the thought of a military flyover for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Now, he couldn't wait to get back to the track, back to the Ferrari garage.

Nat noticed it the minute he walked through the door of the hotel room they were sharing. "Had a good time watching the rest of it?" She asked as she pushed away from the desk in the room.

Bob nodded as he pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact. But, the moment he was there, he didn't know what to say to her. "Nat," he called, looking up at her. "I need your help."

He only needed Nat's help to get the ball rolling. But soon, she and Bob were sending messages back and forth with just a second long gap between. Sometimes Bob took a little longer to reply, but only because Nat was reading the messages over his shoulder and assuring him that she was flirting.

Bob couldn't believe it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't.

"I'll go with you tomorrow," Nat said as she climbed into her bed. It was incredibly late and Bob was hyper-aware that they were still texting. "Find out if she really is flirting with you."

"Nat..."

"Goodnight, Bob."

Natasha went to sleep, but Bob stayed up. She was still replying to his messages, and he couldn't bring himself to not respond. At least until she turned around and wished him goodnight.

When Bob woke up, she had already texted him. I don't have to be on track until later - wanna get food?

Who was Bob to say no? Natasha grinned as he got himself ready, including his glasses. (He had brought his contacts to Vegas because of how much he hated wearing his glasses. He didn't have time to put them in before they headed to the track the day before, but Nat didn't expect him to wear them now).

He walked out of the hotel, ignoring Hangman and Rooster as they called after him. They sat in the lobby, do doubt waiting for Natasha as they whistled at him.

Bob kept going. He saw her car before he walked out of the glass doors, and had to stop himself from breaking into a small jog. As he approached, she pushed open the passenger side door. "Hey, Robby!" She called, wearing a grin.

"Hey," Bob said, wearing a smile as he climbed into the passenger side.

As soon as he was buckled in, she began driving. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" She asked as she headed towards the strip.

Bob shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said. It wasn't in the same way he'd said 'ma'am' before. No, those time he had been nervous saying it. This time, it was so fucking cute and she loved it. "I don't get enough leave for that."

"Why do you call me ma'am?" She asked, but she never wanted it to stop.

Bob couldn't stop his smile. "My momma raised me right."

That much she could tell. She parked the car and climbed out as Bob did the same. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

They went to a restaurant. Bob didn't catch the name of it as she pulled him through the doors. Even when sat gave the waiter her name, she was still holding his hand.

They sat down at a table for two. It felt far too intimate, almost like a date. She couldn't order a drink, but insisted that Bob did. He ordered one beer and made sure to make it last through their entire lunch.

She ordered a salad. Bob wanted to do the same, but she could see how conflicted he was. "Have whatever you want," she said, lowering her menu.

So, he did just that. Bob got himself a burger, the cheapest one on the menu (which was still incredibly expensive).

While they ate, Bob couldn't ignore the way her foot touched his knee beneath the table. He gulped as he reached for his beer.

While they waited, she told Bob about how she had grown up. Karting from a young age before moving onto single seaters.

The more she spoke, the more Bob could imagine getting into F1. Watching races, coming to see her in Vegas when he wasn't deployed. He just had to hope she still liked him enough to keep in contact with him.

They spent the entire afternoon together, until she was taking Bob to the track with her. Pictures of the two of them were taken as they walked through the paddock, too close to just be friends.

Once again, Bob stood in the garage while she completed the last practice session. She led, the fastest car until the Red Bulls were released onto the track.

But still, Bob couldn't stop watching the number 53 car. She came into the pits, had her tyres changed and went out a few minutes later.

Bob couldn't help but smile as he watched her climb the leaderboard. When practice ended, she didn't come in right away, doing a practice start with the other drivers.

When she got out of her car, she pulled off her helmet and balaclava, and spoke to her engineers. She had looked so happy when she climbed out of the car, but Bob watched as her face fell.

She walked over to him, unable to keep herself from sighing. The anger dropped from her face, replaced by sadness. "Wanna come sit in my drivers room?"

So, Bob followed her to her drivers room. She led him inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a breath as she leaned against it.

"Everything okay?" Asked Bob as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

She unzipped her overalls and let them fall to her hips. Bob shuffled over on the couch, giving her space. She sat beside him, shutting her eyes as she leaned back. "Because of the parts they'd had to replace in my car, I'm probably going to get a penalty later," she mumbled.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and Bob didn't move. He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. That that, she shuffled slightly closer, which Bob didn't mind one bit.

Suddenly, she let out a weak laugh. "You're kinda making me want to stay in the states a little longer, Robby," she mumbled.

He looked down at her. "Would you? Seriously?" Bob could imagine it then, taking her to stay with him in San Diego, taking her to Montana to meet his mom at Christmas.

She shook her head. "I can't," she said and sighed through her nose. "There's one last race before the end of the season."

After that, Bob wanted to say. But he squeezed her shoulder instead.

When her trainer came in, Bob wished her good luck and headed back out to the garage. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent Natasha a text. She hadn't gone to the track with him, instead going with Bradley and Jake to the hangar they would be flying from.

If Nat showed Rooster and Hangman his texts, he'd never hear the end of it. But Bob realised he didn't mind. Let them talk, he was here with her.

The first round of the qualifying session was about to start. Bob sort of knew what to expect, she'd explained it to him while they sat in her drivers room, her head on his shoulder. He watched as she walked towards the car, her red, gold, black and white helmet on her head.

She climbed into the car and somebody strapped her in as somebody else spoke to her. She nodded at whatever they were saying and put her thumbs up.

Admittedly, Bob couldn't tell the difference between the practice sessions and the qualifying session. He watched as she went from having no time on the board to being the quickest car on track. But then she was knocked out of the top spot, down in eighth by the end of that session.

Bob had assumed that she was starting the race in eighth position after the eighteen minute long qualifying session. But then she and fourteen other drivers were going back out onto track.

Again she was at the top of the board, knocked out by the same driver. But she stayed in fourth, unable to get a quicker time in before the end of the session.

She went out for a third and final time. Bob heard her calling down the radio as somebody got in her way. But she put an impressive time on the board, finishing third.

It may have been obvious to everybody else in the garage, but Bob had to ask the girl standing next to him. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and answered with a thick French accent. Bob thanked her and watched as the 53 car came into the garage.

She hopped out, did what she needed to do and came to find Bob.

It was near midnight and she couldn't quite believe he was still there, watching her. They'd spent the entire day together, and she'd loved every minute of it.

"Want me to drive you home?" She asked and Bob nodded his head.

She did just that, driving Bob back to his hotel. "They haven't confirmed if I've got a penalty or not," she said as she drove him. "So, for now I'm starting in P3." She quickly glanced at him and then looked back at the road. "Think you might be my good luck charm, Robby," she said and he blushed a deep shade of red.

She pulled up outside of the hotel, just as she had done the day before. And, like the day before, Bob was hesitant to climb out of the car.

As Bob reached for the handle of the door, she opened her mouth, ready to say something, and he stopped. But she closed her mouth. Still, Bob didn't move.

She sucked in a breath and tried again. This time, words came out. "Can I come up?"

Bob knew what that meant. How could he not? Some part of him had been wanting her to ask something like this for the last few hours. But still, he shook his head. "I, uh, I can't. I'm sharing my room with Nat."

"Oh," she said and looked down at the centre console between them. "Oh, shit. Are you and Nat- I didn't mean to overstep... I-"

Bob quickly shook his head. "No. No, Nat's my best friend, but only my best friend," he said. "But, her bed is a couple feet away from mine, so..."

She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face at that. "Can I kiss you, Robby?" She asked.

He leaned over the centre console. Her arms went around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

Bob kissed her. He closed the gap between them, his arm awkwardly resting on her shoulders as his lips moved against her own. Her nose bumped the lens of his glasses, but neither of them minded.

If the expensive car left room for it, he would have moved her onto his lap. But he couldn't. He pulled away, staring at her as his eyes opened again. "Holy shit," he whispered and she grinned at him.

"I'll come and get you before the race," she said and Bob climbed out of the car.

***

He didn't wake up to a text from her. Immediately Bob's mind played tricks on him, telling him that, after they had kissed, she didn't want him.

He sat in the hotel for half of the day, in a perpetual state of anxiousness. Part of him didn't want to move until he heard from her, until he knew that everything was okay.

"You coming?" Nat asked him. He checked his phone one last time before following her out of the hotel room.

He didn't know what she was currently dealing with, that she had just found out about her grid place penalty. "This is such shit!" She cried as she and Charles walked through the paddock. She'd woken up to the news and hadn't had time to message Bob.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Charles said, stopping to sign things for fans (signs, hats, and even a packet of oreos). "How are things going with the navy guy?"

She grinned as they kept walking through the paddock. "We kissed, Cha," she said, suddenly much happier.

"Kissed and..." Charles tried to push.

She shook her head. "Just kissed."

Charles nodded as they walked into the garage. "Just kissed, but you wanted more," he said. "Are you gonna see him before we leave?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm gonna go and pick him up before the race."

Through the evening, she and Charles did what they needed to do for the race. When she got a minute, she texted Bob, but she didn't have many opportunities to check her phone.

As soon as she had a chance, she ran out of the paddock. She held her phone to her ear as she went, making her way to her car. Bob picked up on the third ring. "Hey," she said, opening the door of her car. "I'm on my way."

Bob hesitated before he answered. "I'm not at the hotel right now."

"Do you still want to come to the race?" She asked quickly.

"Do you still want me there?"

She let out a laugh. "Of course I do, Robby. Give me the address and I'll pick you up."

That was just what happened. She picked Bob up and took him to the track. She promised the other aviators that she would get him there to watch the military flyover and drove off with him in the passenger seat.

"Have you ever been to San Diego?" Bob asked as she drove. It had been playing on his mind a lot since they kissed, his best case scenario (which was currently happening. He could have laughed at himself for being so worried).

She shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to explore outside of the places we have Grand Prix," she answered.

"So, you haven't been to Montana?"

"Nope."

Bob couldn't help but smile. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "I don't know when you're gonna have time off, but I could show you Montana, if you'd like."

She grinned at him as she parked the car. "I'd love that, Robby," she said and climbed out of the car.

She checked the time on her watch, grabbed her hand and began running. "I'm late!" She cried. Bob was only happy to run beside her, heading into the Ferrari garage. He slowed to a walk, but she kept going, running to her drivers room to pull on her fireproofs and overalls.

Bob watched it all. He watched as she stood for the national anthem with her fellow drivers, watched as she completed the formation lap from the back of the grid (something he had to ask about), and watched as she raced.

Bob couldn't help but be impressed as she fought her way across the track, racing past most of the grid. She overtook ten other cars, finishing in 5th.

When she climbed out of the car, Bob could see just how happy she was from her body language alone. She did what she had to do, spoke to the team and was interviewed, before she ran over to Bob and threw her arms around him.

"That was incredible!" He cried, smiling down at her. "I didn't realise racing was so exciting."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Think you'll watch next weeks race?"

"Definitely," he said.

He hadn't expected her to kiss him in front of all of the cameras. But Bob didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I leave in the morning," she whispered in his ear. "Stay with me, in my hotel. One last night."

"Until Montana?" Bob asked, his forehead against her own.

"Until Montana."

a/n: ok i loved this and it may need a part two lol

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #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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roosterbruiser · 9 months

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?”

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips.

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers.

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?”

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family.

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!”

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!”

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin.

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.”

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup.

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.”

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly.

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand.

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on.

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!”

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!”

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.”

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!”

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.”

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.”

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.”

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!”

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss.

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched.

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.”

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out.

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says.

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!”

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?”

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!”

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.”

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched.

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says.

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins.

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker.

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly.

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously.

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.”

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back.

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.”

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him.

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!”

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.”

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life.

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms.

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.”

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink.

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!”

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.

Bob looks at you--you’re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh.

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all.

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.”

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy.

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

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