sweetwhispersofchaos

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

LOVE HER!!!!

⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♥︎ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 ‘𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐱’ 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞!

.─── 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫!

.─── 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 @sebsxphia.

.─── 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

#natasha phoenix trace #monica barbaro

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Gonna have to read this after the kiddies go to bed 😈

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

I can’t be the only one that doesn’t trust Maria right? Something about her, I can’t put my finger on it.

Maria and Rhett in the Outer Range S2 trailer

#outer range #outer range s2 #rhett abbott #maria olivares #lewis pullman #isabel arraiza

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Flenxkdkwndjwksnxjenencjejdnfbchwkebtbdkzychej

What. The. Fuck!!!

Ugghhhhhh. I want to kill Kevin. That is all.

Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Now that Anna knows what Bob's hands feel like when he's holding her close, she doesn't know how to stop herself from going back for more. But she's unwilling to even humor Bob when it comes to what he wants the most.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"I'm waiting for you to thank me."

Bob looked up to see Nat in front of him with a little smirk painted on her lips. He'd been spending the last twenty minutes trying to act normal, something he forgot how to do after Anna kissed him in the kitchen. Because it wasn't just a kiss, it was everything. It felt like she really wanted him.

"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.

Nat laughed heartily like he'd just told a very amusing joke. "For pushing you and Anna together. Bradley told me the situation, and that woman was jealous of me touching you. Her face was all pinched, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Jealous. She wants you. And my god, she's hot. What the fuck do they do at San Diego State? Only interview you if you've got your PhD and a modeling contract?"

Bob knew he was blushing, and he was happy she wasn't calling him out on it. His friends were all talking about him and Anna behind his back at this point, trying to figure out what was going on. "We kind of just made out in the kitchen," he muttered, glancing across the yard at Anna who was talking to Jess and still holding the can of ginger ale he gave her.

"Yes!" Nat said with absolutely no subtlety, slapping Bob's shoulder. "Oh fuck, the two of you will have the cutest kids! Freckles and strawberry blonde hair!"

He had to close his eyes against the idea of it, willing the flush in his cheeks to subside. When he opened them again, Anna was looking right at him. Her gaze was a little unsure, and he was starting to get afraid she wouldn't let him drive her home later. But he wanted to walk her up to her door. He had been thinking about it since the very first time he drove her home.

"It's not like we're together or anything," he muttered.

"Yet," Nat told him, looking so certain. "Not yet."

It was getting late, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The temperatures would start cooling down once it was dark, and Anna was only wearing shorts. Bob's eyes easily found those freckles on her thighs once again. Her skin looked so damn soft. He wondered if he would feel goosebumps beneath his fingers if he traced that pretty pattern, gently connecting her freckles with an imaginary line. He had to swallow hard as she started heading his way.

Nat squeezed his wrist and muttered something about work, and then she vanished into the house. With Anna standing right in front of him, Bob wished he could just lean in and kiss her the way Jake always did with Jess, and the way Bradley always did with his wife. He wanted it. With Anna.

"I'm getting a little chilly," she told him. "I guess I overestimated how warm autumn was going to be in San Diego. It's still better than New Jersey though." She was talking to him like she hadn't been rubbing the front of those little shorts against the fly of his jeans barely an hour ago, and now he was sweating.

"You should wear jeans next time," he replied before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Not that you should be covering your legs or anything like that! You have very nice legs. Nice freckles? I just don't want you to be cold."

He cradled his forehead in his hand while Anna laughed softly. "I'll wear jeans next time. Do you think you could give me a ride home soon?"

"Sure," he promised immediately. "Absolutely."

"Great." Then she turned, and Bob heard her saying goodbye to Jessica. Why was he so awkward? Why was that exchange so weird? How was he supposed to make Anna want to kiss him again when he could barely string two normal sentences together?

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

Anna was trying to make a quick getaway, craving another few minutes alone with Bob. His truck was cozy, and she knew it would feel warm. His voice was sexy, and so was the way he moved. She wanted to kiss him again, even though she knew it was a terrible idea.

"Take some leftovers!"

"No, I'm fine," Anna told the hosts as Bradley tried to talk her into taking some of the extra burgers home. "But thank you." She was terrified that Jess may have said something about how sad Anna's lunches were; she had been doing her best to hide her current financial state from her friends, but she must have slipped up somehow.

"Well, will you come over for dinner one night? I love cooking for Sugar, but I always end up making way too much food."

Anna looked down at her feet. "Sure. I could do that. Jake invited me over there, too. I know he always cooks for Jess."

"Okay," Bradley said, his voice a little rough and his face annoyed when Anna looked up. "I'm a lot better at cooking than Jake is, first of all. Second of all, why don't you have dinner at his lame ass condo, and then let me know what he cooked. Then I'll cook a much better version of it for you and Sugar one night."

She was trying not to laugh; she knew they were competitive, but she didn't know it was quite this bad. "That sounds great, Bradley. Thanks for inviting me over today."

He just waved her off. "You're always welcome. You're one of us." He said it so casually before he started scraping the grill and cleaning it up, Anna just stared at the pattern of his tie dye shirt for a few seconds. He considered her part of this group now? This ridiculously cool friend group? If she thought about it for too long, she knew she would start crying. 

"Thanks," she whispered, turning and running directly into Bob's solid chest.

When she looked up at him as her fingers grazed along his shirt, he asked, "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah." Anna felt the slight pressure of Bob's hand at her lower back, guiding her toward the door.

"After you," he said softly. 

Anna had to walk inside the house and past Natasha, who she had clearly embarrassed herself in front of before. But the brunette just waved goodbye like she was completely unfazed by the events from earlier. Like it was totally normal for Bob and Anna to be together, heading out front to his truck as the setting sunset turned the sky orange.

Bob pulled the door open and helped her into his truck, and Anna thought maybe it was okay for this to be normal? To get a ride home from Bob after kissing him in her friend's kitchen? To have a painfully unrelenting crush on him that made her feel like perhaps love was a choice that you made for yourself? 

She watched him walk around the font of the truck, his glasses catching the last rays of sunlight as the streetlights started to warm up. He was beautiful. He climbed into the truck gracefully and looked at her bashfully. She was the reason he wasn't more confident right now; she knew it, and she was annoyed with herself for it.

He cleared his throat quietly and said, "Before I forget, I have your copy of Papillon." Then he reached for the glovebox, his knuckles brushing her bare knee. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand away immediately.

Anna's heart was in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him that she liked it when he touched her, even by accident. He reached for the glovebox again, this time making sure his movements kept him clear of her leg. "It's okay," she told him, breathing deep. "I didn't mind it."

The only answer she got was Bob carefully handing her worn out book back to her. There was another little note folded up inside which made her remember she never read the one that was in Wuthering Heights before she left it in her office at work. He started the engine. The drive back to her place was too long, and too short at the same time. She was surprised to find that he was heading in the right direction without a reminder about her address. As the sky darkened, Anna tried to listen to the music playing on the radio, but all she could really hear was the sound of her own heart pounding. 

When Bob parked the truck in front of her building, she watched him squeeze the steering wheel with both hands while he stared out the windshield. "Anna...when you say you didn't mind it when I touched you...what does that mean? And what happened back at the cookout? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Or am I supposed to just figure out how to get over you?"

She fumbled with her seatbelt, heart thundering at the sound of his unsure voice. She wanted to ask him why he even liked her, because she had literally nothing to offer someone like Bob Floyd. But instead she said, "I meant I like it when you touch me. Even if it's by accident."

He turned to look at her, and when he saw she was crawling across the seat, his eyes went wide, and his hands slid from the steering wheel. "Anna." He inhaled a sharp breath when she planted one hand between his thighs, brushing his jeans with her fingers. She couldn't stand him thinking she didn't want him for another second. He was all she wanted. Somehow moving to San Diego got her some actual friends and a job she liked, and now a decent man with only green flags was into her, and she just couldn't make him think she felt otherwise. Even if they couldn't be together.

Bob's hands were planted on the seat at his sides, and he wasn't moving an inch as Anna straddled his legs. It was dark out, but she could see his gaze dip down to her cleavage before he met her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep with need. "Is it okay if I touch you now?"

"Please."

Anna's little cry of delight echoed through the cab of the truck as soon as Bob's hands settled on her bare thighs. His touch was light yet intentional, and it just left her wanting more. He was running his thumb along the frayed edge of her denim shorts, teasing her as he whispered, "I want to kiss you."

She didn't answer. Instead she reached for him, letting her fingers sink into his silky hair, leaning closer until her lips met his again. The kisses in the kitchen had been a little frantic, forcing her to get over the fact that Bob didn't want Natasha. He wanted Anna. But this was something different. Languid and slow. Needy yet decisive. She wanted to touch the rough stubble of his cheek, so she did. She wanted to feel his bottom lip tugged gently between hers, so she did. Then she parted her lips and tasted him.

The scrape of her nails along his jaw had his fingers sliding up inside the bottom of her shorts, and she wished she wasn't wearing them at all. She wanted to know the feel of his hands everywhere. "Anna," he murmured against her lips. She tugged on his hair and kissed him a little rougher, but she gasped and gave up control as soon as his big hands found their way over her shorts to her hips and yanked her snug against him. There was no more polite distance. No more breathing room. Just his hard body pressed to her soft one.

Bob's glasses were cool against her cheek, keeping her grounded as his fingers met the skin of her lower back while he tasted her tongue. His touch tickled her, and she rolled her hips forward, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. "Please," Anna whined, like it was the only word she even knew. Then her mouth was back on his. Bob's fingers traveled an inch higher, and she ground against him, but this time he broke the kiss.

When he tipped his head back, he looked bashful in the glow from the streetlights. She could feel him. He was getting hard for her, and it was delicious. Her brain supplied every suggestive line of poetry it had ever absorbed in her lifetime, and all she wanted was to make him get harder. 

She was ready to start unzipping his jeans when he eased his hands away from her body and whispered, "Will you let me walk you to your door? I've been wanting to do that for weeks."

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

It was slow going, trying to get to Anna's apartment door. They kept stopping to kiss, even going so far as to end up with her body pinned between his and the wall in the stairwell. Her soft laughter as he kissed the side of her neck echoed through the enclosed space, and then she said his name.

"Bob."

Actually, it was more like a whine, and it reverberated off of the walls beautifully. "Yes, Anna?" he whispered, letting her lace their fingers together. He wanted to do this all the time. He wanted to be her boyfriend. 

She just made a strangled sound as he kissed as many of her freckles as he could get his lips on before pulling her away from the wall. Then they finally made it upstairs to her door. If she invited him inside, he wasn't sure what she would expect. As much as he was ready to skip all of the pleasantries, he knew he needed to do this just right.

"Oh," she whispered, seemingly to herself as she unlocked her door. But she didn't turn the knob as she looked back at him over her shoulder. Her pretty brown eyes flashed with concern, so he took a step away, but then she just looked sad. 

"Everything okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Will I get to see you this week? I'd love to buy you a ginger ale at the Hard Deck. Or Chippy's."

She bit her lip before abandoning the door and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was all rough kisses on her tiptoes, and Bob was ready to turn the knob, head inside and deal with the consequences later. But she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away from him just as quickly. "I need to...I'll see you later, Bob."

In a flash, she squeezed herself in through the smallest gap imaginable, and then she gently closed her apartment door behind her. Bob stood there for a minute, his cock still half hard in his jeans as he stared at the spot where Anna had just been standing. She was giving him whiplash at this point, but maybe he sort of liked that kind of thing.

He quickly adjusted himself in his jeans before heading back downstairs and out into the cool night. He was going to have to ask Jake or Bradley how long he needed to wait before asking Anna out. They would know what to do. And he had Nat back now as well. He had enough resources that he would figure it out.

But the next day after work, they all seemed to make everything more confusing for him. 

"So did you finally fuck her then?" Bradley asked casually as he put deodorant on in the locker room.

"Well, no," Bob muttered. "We just made out for a bit."

"Kids these days," Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "Well, did you at least thank Nat? For coming to your rescue?"

Bob sighed, knowing this man was going to be no help after all. "I already talked to Nat," Bob replied as they walked out of the locker room. 

Of course Natasha was in the hallway and did a double take. "Did I just hear my name? I've been so popular since I got home yesterday." Her smile slipped into a look of excitement. "Did you fuck the redhead?"

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Her name is Anna. And no, because I'm actually trying to date her."

"Why not both?" Nat asked, leading the way out to the parking lot. "Give that girl what she so desperately wants."

Bob was scared Anna was going to pull away again. He hadn't heard from her at all since last night when she disappeared into her apartment. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be texting her or not today. It was like he was living in a choose your own adventure story, but somehow none of the options were correct.

He turned right toward his truck while Bradley and Nat both turned left, but then he realized that Jake had parked next to him and was already in his own truck talking on the phone. Bob tried to sneak past, but Jake put his window down and said, "Jess wants to know what's up with you and Anna."

"Is she on the phone?" Bob asked, tossing his bag into his own truck.

"Hi!" came Jessica's voice through Jake's bluetooth. "What did you do to Anna? She was practically singing when she showed up at lunch today."

Bob immediately scrambled toward Jake's truck and stuck his head in the window. "She was?"

"Yes. And she was having a hard time paying attention. You know how she gets when her head is in the clouds."

Jake met Bob's wide eyed gaze and smiled. "You should go to her office hours," the other man drawled. "That's like a green light for fucking on her desk."

"Hey!" Jessica complained through the phone while Bob grimaced. "Jake, keep your mouth shut about it. But yes, Bob, you should go to her office hours. She'd probably really like that. It shows you're thinking about her."

Well Bob was almost never not thinking about Anna, so maybe it wasn't a bad idea. "Take her some flowers," Jake added. "Seriously, man, she'll be handing you her panties within a minute."

"Hey!" came Jessica's voice again, and this time Bob ducked into his own truck, not wanting to hear any more of that conversation.

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

Monday was a bit of a blur. The first thing Anna did when she got to her office was grab her copy of Wuthering Heights from her shelf. The note she forgot to read from Bob made her smile right away.

This book made me feel like it's okay to be completely caught up in another person to the point where you forget where you are or what you're doing. Also, I'm going to think of you every time I see a dog eared page for the rest of my life.

She whimpered softly. There had been a similar, slightly more intimate note tucked inside Papillon when she checked it last night after she squeezed herself into her depressingly tiny apartment in embarrassment. She would never be able to invite Bob inside for anything. Not for a cup of tea, and not for a sleepover.

After that, Anna spent the entire night on Sunday reading her favorite poems and touching herself. Sky Writing seemed to have fallen in love, based on his new post. That idea wasn't surprising at all. Anna was convinced he was the perfect man, so it was just a matter of time. But the thing that did surprise her was the way he wrote about a certain woman with red hair. Late into the night, she was laying in her tiny bed with her fingers inside the font of her underwear, picturing Bob as she read the words to herself.

It was almost too much. Her lips were still a little bit puffy on Monday from all the making out, and she felt sated if only by her own touch. She knew Bob's beautiful hands would be so much better, and she was still thinking about them when she went to find her friends at lunchtime. 

Tuesday wasn't much better. The only damper was that she hadn't heard a single word from Bob. Nothing. She hadn't texted him either, because what was she supposed to say? Hi, I think I could fall in love with you, but I'm not allowed. Can we still make out? That would be the worst idea in the world.

"She's got her head in the clouds again."

Anna blinked a few times and realized she was sitting by the weird tree with the warm sunlight on her face. Her uneaten sandwich was in her hand, hovering halfway to her mouth, and she had been staring off into the distance. "Sorry," she muttered, finally taking a bite. Her lunch didn't even seem as sad today as she thought about Bob's hands on her thighs. 

"Can you blame her?" Jessica asked. "She kissed Bob."

"Not one bit," the other woman said with a grin, as if Anna wasn't even there. "He's a damn catch. Sweetest man ever."

Anna rolled her eyes and said, "As if you aren't married to the human equivalent of a golden retriever."

"Oh, so she is paying attention," Jessica said with a laugh. "We thought you'd blasted off for planet Bob with no return ticket."

"Your astrophysics jokes are the worst," the other woman said, and Jessica pretended to pout.

"Listen. All I know is that he's a great kisser, and that his hands fit really nicely right here," Anna said pointing to her back and her hips. Both women squealed in delight. "But I can't take things any further with him."

"Why not?" Jessica demanded. "The two of you have been playing this game since you met at the bookstore. And also since you met again at the Hard Deck."

Anna thought about Kevin and all of her money that she'd never see again. She thought about her manuscripts she'd put on hold to work three jobs. She thought about how she'd willingly given up Princeton for him.

"I don't want to drag him down to where I am," she whispered, running her finger along the condensation on her can of ginger ale. "I can't be in a relationship." That's all she wanted to say about Bob and Kevin right now, still too afraid to tell her friends everything. So she cleared her throat and asked, "What's with the cooking rivalry between Bradley and Jake? It's like an episode of Chopped." That seemed to open a very controversial can of worms, but at least the focus shifted away from her personal life.

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

Bob didn't even know what kind of flowers were the right ones to get, and once again, everyone else gave him useless information. 

"I rarely get flowers for Sugar. I usually just grab some good beers on my way to pick her up from school, and that's enough to seal the deal. Then I get to drink the beer I like while my hot wife goes dow-"

"We get the picture, Bradshaw," Jake said loudly. "Bob, just get some cheap flowers and save the money to make her dinner one night."

"Do not get her cheap flowers!" Natasha chimed in. "If the two of you weren't attractive looking," she said, pointing to Bradley and Jake, "Sugar and Jessica would have bailed before they bothered to uncover actual brain cells underneath the pretty hair." Both men looked startled before eventually nodding in agreement. "You need to get good flowers and plan to invite her for dinner. Not one or the other," Nat finished, pounding her fist into her other palm. "No wonder Bob never gets laid when I'm not around to straighten everything out."

"Can we not talk about that?" he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "And it's not like I just want to...get laid. By just anybody."

"Yeah, yeah," Natasha said, tapping away on her phone. "You're a romantic. Go get her flowers like these ones."

Bob examined her screen when she held it up for him. He memorized the red and orange blooms the best he could, and soon they started to remind him of Anna's hair. "Got it," he told her, turning toward his truck before anyone else could tell him something that may or may not end up being useful. He'd get the flowers and then invite her over. He wasn't as good at cooking as Jake or Bradley, but he'd try anyway. He was mostly out of practice since he didn't have anyone to cook for, really, but they both offered to send him their favorite recipes. 

The florist was nice and listened to him ramble about orange and red flowers for a minute before putting together something that was even prettier than he could have imagined. The sixty dollar price tag shocked him, but it didn't stop him from also grabbing a book from the front window of the shop next door. It was a new one he'd been wanting to read himself, not quite one of the classics that Anna seemed to favor, but he figured she wouldn't have read it yet. He'd let her borrow it and dog ear all the pages up, and then he'd read it and think about her the whole time.

But when he got to the San Diego State University campus, he sat in his truck and stared at the clock on his dashboard. It was 6:32. She had office hours until 7:00, so he really needed to head in there. Doubt was creeping in now, because they left things off at a weird place. He had no idea what Anna really wanted from him, if anything. If she told him no or hesitated today, he was going to have to start sorting out his feelings for her and dismantling them bit by bit.

It was 6:47 by the time he finally made his way through the academic building on his way to Anna's office. Several people turned and looked at him in his khaki uniform with the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, and this would have been a lot less stressful if Anna was actually his girlfriend and not a woman he thought might never be that. When he reached the hallway that smelled like freshly baked bread, he found her small office right away where it was tucked back from the main walkway. The door was ajar, and he could hear her voice, so he stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly, trying to fight the urge to run back to his truck.

The door opened another inch, and Bob could see Anna's fingers and her burgundy painted nails peeking out as her voice got louder. "Here's a copy of the extra study guide. Don't forget there's a quiz on Monday. If you can ace that, then I think you'll be in better shape for the final. And try not to be too hard on yourself, Hemingway can be a bit of a challenge for anyone."

"Thanks, Dr. Webber."

The door opened all the way, and a young man filed out with a frown on his face, and then Anna was just standing there right in front of Bob. Her hair was in a loose braid, her lips had some sort of purple-ish gloss on them, and she was wearing some snug jeans and an SDSU sweatshirt. "Bob," she breathed, and it sounded like music. Her gaze raked over his uniform and the vibrant flowers before returning to his face, brown eyes more vulnerable than he ever thought they should be.

"Hi, Anna." He couldn't think of anything better to say as she backed up a step into her small office and nodded her head once for him to join her. After two of his long strides, Bob was practically bumping into her desk. Then she closed the door and leaned against it, hands tucked behind her back.

She cleared her throat, but her voice was still soft as she said, "You look nice in your uniform."

"Thanks," he replied automatically. She could have said anything, and he would have thanked her.

"Those are beautiful. Are they for me?" she whispered, eyes falling to the flowers again.

"Of course they are."

Bob watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. "You didn't have to do that. Flowers are so expensive."

"I got you a book, too," he said, sliding it out from behind the bouquet. Her eyes snapped open so she could read the title, and he said, "It's a new release, so I was hoping you didn't preorder it or anything."

Anna's cheeks were growing pinker by the second, making her freckles look more prominent. He was about to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner one night when she launched herself across the three feet of empty space, colliding softly with his body. Bob dropped the flowers and the book onto her desk just as she kissed him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

She kissed him like they did this all the time, and his hands went right to her waist where they fit perfectly. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "Nobody ever got me books before you."

The words before you echoed in his brain. He didn't want there to be an after. He wanted this to be the real deal where neither of them had to be in a relationship where they weren't constantly trading books back and forth with someone. 

Anna kissed him until his glasses were crooked, and she raked her fingers through his hair until he was sure it was a mess. And somehow she ended up pushing him back until he was sitting on the edge of her desk with his long legs splayed apart. He knew he was in trouble; he could feel himself slipping already. She let her hands trail down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down the front of his shirt. She adjusted all of his pins and touched his name tag along the way as her lips barely brushed his. Her fingers moved so slowly, he thought maybe he could get himself under control, but it was no use. He was hard in his pants, and her exploratory hands weren't stopping.

"Anna."

All that did was make her kiss him harder again.

"Please."

All that did was have her pressing the font of her jeans to his khakis with a little gasp. Maybe the guys had been right about this kind of thing after all. Maybe visiting her during office hours was all it was going to take to get to the next level. Her fingers made it all the way down to his thighs, scraping along just inches from his erection, and Bob was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He thought about icebergs and refrigerators and the Arctic Circle, but nothing alleviated the aching heat under his skin as Anna licked his lip and almost nudged the tip of his cock.

But then she said the most devastating sentence he could think of. "Bob, I really like you. But we're just friends, okay?" Then she kissed him again like she hadn't spoken something so harsh, and he thought maybe he imagined it. "Just really good friends who make out with each other."

"Fuck," he grunted, trying to get control even as his hands kneaded the bare skin of her lower back. "Anna." He swallowed hard and pulled his mouth away from hers, examining her wide eyes. Her teeth sank into her pouty bottom lip when he said, "I was going to invite you over for dinner later this week."

"As friends?" she whispered, her hands still planted on his thighs. 

Bob nodded like an idiot, because once again, he was going to agree to anything she said right then. "Sure."

She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."

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

But is it okay? Is it really? Next up, let's see how this dinner goes. We might need Nat to fully step in and take care of business again. Also, I love Bradley and Jake in this chapter so so so much! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Me with you right now 😒🫢🫠

Covering the Classics Part 7 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Just when Anna starts to feel settled, a simple cookout at her friend's house turns everything upside down. Her jealousy shines through, and there's nothing she can do to try to take it back.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Things with Bob felt like they shifted back to normal again, and Anna was thankful for that. Every book she let him borrow was returned with a note folded up inside. Some of them were short and simple. When he handed back Love Letters of Great Men, the note simply said The dog eared pages are going to make me cry. But some of them were longer and more elaborate.

She was running a little late to meet him at the usual coffee shop, worried he would already be there. He seemed to end up paying for her drink every single time, which was honestly really sweet of him, but she felt like such a nuisance. When she walked inside, he was there, at a table with two steaming mugs in front of him and his nose buried in a book. In one of Anna's books. In her copy of Wuthering Heights.

Her whole body felt too warm as she thought about how much she would love to have Bob read every single one of the hundreds of books she owned. Maybe even read some parts out loud in that deep, soothing voice. She would love to hear his take on each plot and watch him blush as he called her the expert and asked for her opinions. She would love to take the book from his hands and pull him down into bed with her.

But she couldn't do that. They were just friends. So instead, she dropped down into the empty seat across from him and said, "Hi, Bob," with a smile she hoped wasn't as sad as she felt.

"Anna." Her name sounded like golden perfection when he said it, and she shivered. "This book... I can't stop reading it. I read it twice already," he said with a little laugh. "How in the world do you always know exactly what I'm going to like?"

Because she felt undeniably drawn to him and his preferences and everything about him.

"Because I'm a professional."

He laughed a little more as his pretty lake-blue eyes followed her cup as she brought it up to her lips. When the ceramic touched her, he looked away as his cheeks grew pink. He pushed the book across the table, and when she reached for it, he said, "Uh, just read that note later, okay?"

When she saw the edge of white paper sticking out from the worn pages, she said, "Sure, Bob."

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Did you hear about the change of venue for tomorrow?"

Anna ducked her head. "Yeah, the girls told me about it at lunch yesterday. A cookout? Bradley wants to show off his new grill?"

Bob nodded and said, "Could be a nice change from the Hard Deck for once."

While he wasn't wrong, Anna hated that she still barely had enough money to make ends meet. San Diego was expensive, and when she asked Advanced Calculus what she could bring with her to their house to contribute to the meal, her friend said to bring hot dog and hamburger buns. Anna was already trying to figure out how to scrape together the ten dollars that would be required when Jessica said she already bought some along with chips and pretzels. When she didn't quite meet Anna's eyes, she knew for a fact that Jessica had figured her out.

"Yeah. I suppose," Anna told Bob. But at least at the Hard Deck, Penny didn't usually even charge her for the three dollar ginger ales. And if she did, one of the guys just put it on their tab like it was nothing. When she showed up empty handed to the cookout, she was going to feel awful that Jessica had covered for her. 

"You want another coffee?" Bob asked, standing with his own mug, but Anna shook her head. She couldn't let him pay for another thing. Perhaps deleting multi millionaire Dev Borah's phone number wasn't her best move. Not that she would ever take advantage of someone for their money. Not after what Kevin did to her.

"No. But thank you. I actually can't stay very long today."

Bob nodded before saying, "No worries. I have dinner plans with Suzanne before Mickey picks me up for D&D anyway."

And there it was once again. The reminder that Bob didn't think about that kiss nearly as much as she did. "I hope you have a great time."

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

It was late on Saturday night, and he should have been in bed, but Bob had his computer out. He reasoned that he could sleep in as late as he wanted tomorrow before heading to pick up the burgers Bradley asked him to bring for the cookout. He could stay up as long as it took for him to finish this poem and finally post it on PoetsAmongUs after looking at it for weeks.

If anyone knew he was writing about Anna, he would probably die on the spot. But nobody in his life knew he wrote anything in his free time, let alone the fact that he wrote poetry. And this poem was getting close to needing a 'mature' label if he was going to post it online.

"What are you doing?" he asked himself softly. Somehow he believed that writing about her specifically would cleanse him of these thoughts, but now he knew he was wrong. He proofread and posted his poem anyway while his skin prickled with need. He'd never experienced the kind of love his friends had, and in spite of all of her hesitations, he could imagine it happening with Anna. If anything, he liked that she seemed cautious and contemplative, he just wished she wasn't still that way toward him. 

She made him want to keep leaving her notes in the books he borrowed from her, but she also made him feel like an idiot for wanting to do that. It was maddening. He needed to sleep, but he was too warm, imagining Anna once again in place of his faceless lover while he touched himself. He almost couldn't wait until the day when someone else would take her place in his mind, even if it meant settling.

The next day, he drove his old pickup toward the coast with the burgers and a six pack of ginger ale in tow. The Spanish revival style house that Bradley purchased before he and his wife made things official again was cute with desert landscaping, but she was the one who really made it a home. There was art hanging on the walls in every room, including a panoramic watercolor of the scenery of Virginia. The front bedroom had been turned into her home office, and for some reason, she had Bradley's fraternity paddle hanging in there. The house seemed more lived in now, and Bob knew Bradley was much happier for it.

"Hey, thanks man," Bradley told him, taking the bag of burgers when he got there. He was wearing his hideous Grateful Dead shirt and holding two cans of beer on one hand, but he still managed to give Bob a quick hug. "Sugar's out back, setting up some snacks and just generally looking hot. You want a beer?"

Bob held up the ginger ales in response and said, "Thanks, but I'll just have one of these for now." The last thing he wanted was a hangover like he had after their New Year's Eve party.

"Hi!" Jessica said as she and Jake walked inside, and she made a beeline right for Bob. "Have you given any more thought to how I should paint my barbarian?"

He just smiled as she started to push him through the kitchen toward the back door. "We just played yesterday. I didn't know you'd still be in the mood to talk about your ridiculous D&D character."

"Please," she practically whined. "You know how sensitive my barbarian is."

Bob snorted; truly he never would have expected he and she would have had so much in common, but even Jessica couldn't keep his attention once he saw who Bradley's wife was talking to. Anna had some freckles on her thighs. Her cutoff denim shorts went high enough up her legs that he was treated to the sight of freckles everywhere. And that wasn't all. Not even close. The deep "V" of her shirt revealed that there was a pretty good chance the freckles even trailed down inside her bra.

He wasn't going to survive the cookout if he had to look at her all afternoon. Her red hair was clipped up on top of her head with some sort of claw-shaped thing, and her skin was just everywhere. Her neck and her legs and the swell of her breasts. Her fingernails were burgundy again, just like the first day he saw her. She hadn't even noticed him yet, which was terrible, because if she had, he would have looked away by now. Instead he was given ample opportunity to memorize the way her legs looked as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, shuffling her beat up sneakers a bit along the patio.

"Oh," Jessica whispered, squeezing his bicep gently when he stopped responding to her. "Yeah, that'll do it." Her tone sounded slightly sympathetic, and it made Bob so self conscious. "Let's go say hi."

He shook his head jerkily and muttered, "In a second." Anna was currently laughing, head thrown back in delight, and Bob got the briefest peek at the strip of skin above her shorts and her bellybutton, and his brain actually stopped functioning. When she tipped her head forward again, an overjoyed smile still on her lips, she met his gaze. His brain jump started again as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and he took a step in her direction before he could reconsider.

"Hey, Bob." She sounded a little breathless as she said his name while Bradley's wife smirked at the two of them. But he and Anna were just friends, and he needed to remember that.

"Anna," he replied softly, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. His palms were sweaty, and he knew he was blushing. He'd never make it out of here alive. Not when she was looking at him like that. 

She smiled and said, "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"

Bob was already about to agree with whatever she said, because it sounded exactly perfect to him, then he heard someone screeching his name.

"Bob!" There was a brunette flash streaking across the small backyard, and then Natasha Trace was in his arms. She was giggling next to his ear where she kissed his cheek three times in a row, knocking his glasses askew.

"I didn't know you were coming home today," he said in surprise.

"I didn't tell anyone except Bradley. Did I surprise you?" she asked.

"That's an understatement, Nat," he replied, hugging her tighter when she refused to let go. "I missed you."

Her familiar laughter was comforting as she said, "You have no idea how much I hate flying with anyone other than you." When she finally started to pull away from him, she added, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."

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

Anna couldn't believe how incredible her friend's house was. It was huge and beautiful, and she had a yard. A yard! In California! There was colorful art on the walls, which appeared to be a collection of things that she and Bradley enjoyed. Her office was something Anna could only dream about, and the kitchen was bigger than her whole apartment.

After a tour of the interior, she stood on the patio in the autumn sunlight in a pair of shorts, something she would have never been able to do in New Jersey. Every day seemed to get better than the last, assuming she could keep the intrusive thoughts about Kevin away. And also assuming she could figure out what she was supposed to do about Bob and the growing collection of feelings she seemed to have for him.

"You have to hear what happened in my Differential Equations lecture on Friday afternoon," her friend was saying as they stood near the new grill that would soon be the centerpiece of the afternoon. "You won't even believe it."

Anna listened for a minute to the wild story, bursting into laughter when she learned how her friend thought she was going to have to call the fire department while she was teaching. Then she saw him. Bob was here with his tidy hair and his adorable glasses and his big hands, and like always her brain filled up with the beautiful poetry she loved so much. Somehow it seemed to go together with him. Those stunning words matched the way he made her feel.

She had to bite her lip in an attempt to calm herself down. "Hey, Bob," she managed to say as his cheeks flushed pink.

"Anna."

Oh, she was a mess. She thought about him way too frequently, even taking the time to compile the titles of some books she had read and loved, convincing herself he might like some of them too. "I came up with a few, slightly more obscure book recommendations for you. I was thinking maybe we could go back to the bookstore and look for some of them that I don't currently own? I might be fun to-"

But she stopped mid sentence when she heard some excited chatter behind Bob, and then a woman came running out through the back door. A beautiful woman. Calling his name. Jumping into his arms. Anna was treated to the sight of the woman's lips brushing against Bob's cheek while he held onto her like he was just reunited with the only person he ever cared about. She had to watch as this other woman ran her fingers gently along his skin in exactly the way Anna fantasized about. And when she looked around, nobody seemed concerned by this turn of events, rather they all acted like it was perfectly normal that Bob and this woman were whispering intimately to each other.

Then Anna heard her say, "Now we can pick up where we left off before my deployment."

Oh. Well. There was a sour taste in her mouth as she took a step backwards as the rest of the group greeted this mystery woman. Anna was going to have to have words with Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics after this. Maybe they tried to set her up with Bob, because they didn't like this other woman? That idea vaporized as soon as she saw Jessica embrace her with a bright smile on her face.

Anna felt like her chest was growing tighter by the second, and then Jessica started to pull the pretty brunette toward her. "You have to come meet the newest faculty member from the English department! Dr. Anna Webber."

The woman looked her up and down with dark, appraising eyes and a little smirk set firmly on her lips. Then she stuck out her right hand and said, "I'm Natasha Trace."

The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was shake hands, but Jessica was looking at her with concern, probably wondering why she was just standing there. "It's a pleasure," Anna said with as much conviction as she could muster, shaking hands as briefly as she could.

"You teach at San Diego State too?" Natasha asked as her smirk bloomed into a bigger smile. When Anna nodded, she laughed and added, "What the hell do they put in the water at that school?"

Jessica was beaming now as she said, "Anna gives book recommendations to Bob all the time."

"Really? Is that so?" Natasha asked, still eyeing Anna like a predator would their prey, when Bob appeared with two cans of ginger ale. He gave one to Natasha and then tried to hand the other one to Anna as Natasha said, "I actually read a phenomenal book last month, Bob. I'll write down the title for you."

He kind of smiled, still holding out the other can toward Anna who felt like she was on the verge of screaming. "No. Thank you," she told him, taking a few steps away as she clocked the hurt expression on his face. "I don't want any."

The uncomfortable feeling was overtaking Anna's whole body now when Natasha leaned a little closer to Bob and softly muttered, "Let me guess... you have a little crush? This happened in my absence?"

Anna turned and went inside, searching for the bathroom she'd seen on the house tour. That woman was mocking her. Anna didn't want to hear any more of that conversation, because it was making her skin crawl. And worse still, she was finally able to identify this feeling as she closed and locked the door and leaned on the sink vanity.

Jealousy. 

She was more jealous of this petite brunette who seemed to think Bob's personal space was hers for the taking than she ever was about Kevin and Alyssa. She was beside herself at the idea of another woman giving Bob book recommendations and making fun of his stupid little crush on her.

This was exactly why she should have never let herself have feelings. When she looked in the mirror, she saw tears in her eyes. "Shit," she whispered. She didn't have a car, so she couldn't just discreetly leave. Plus she'd been looking forward to eating something other than one of her sad sandwiches for days.

The jealousy gave way to anger as she wiped her eyes with a tissue and dropped it in the trash can. Her new friends invited her here, and she was going to stay. She wasn't going to let her feelings for Bob Floyd dictate her mood or what she felt she was allowed to do. She wasn't going to let another man run her life like that ever again.

With her head held high, she walked back outside, making it a point to avoid Bob and Natasha at all costs. She willingly had a thirty minute conversation with Jake and Mickey about the Marvel Cinematic Universe as an excuse to keep her distance. Then she and Bradley discussed the extensive musical catalogue of the Grateful Dead while she slowly sipped a beer to try to take the edge off. Then he turned on the grill, and the smell of food cooking had her excited enough that it was becoming easier and easier to ignore Bob.

When she accidentally looked his way, he was already eyeing her with a confused expression. She could pretend all day long that she didn't care what he thought and that she wasn't jealous at all. She could be so stubborn about this. At least all they had between them was that one awkward, fumbled kiss in his truck. It wasn't like she'd slept with him before he ditched her for the much better looking Natasha.

She was still doing a fine job of ignoring both of them when Bradley announced that dinner was ready. Anna took a plate of food and scooted all the way to the end of the rectangular patio table, snagging the spot across from Jessica. She was willing to talk about anything right now, even her friend's physics curriculum that she could barely comprehend, but then Bob was right next to her.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked cautiously, setting his plate next to hers. Anna just shrugged, and then she was enveloped in his clean scent as he eased himself down in the seat with his knee hitting her thigh. She quickly crossed her legs before scooting her chair a few inches to the side away from his. "Are you okay?"

Anna almost laughed as Natasha found a spot on the other side of the table. "I'm just fine," she said before taking a huge bite of her burger and avoiding looking at either of them.

"Right," Bob whispered, frowning down toward his plate as she gave him side eye. "I just... feel like I did something to upset you."

Anna shook her head, and when she was done chewing the delicious food, she said, "Not at all. You're free to make the decisions you want to make. And I'm free to keep my books to myself since you've got other ones now."

Bob looked at her and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?" 

But Anna was well on her way to starting a conversation with Jessica that could probably last for hours. She ignored him as she asked, "Hey, Jess, what's up with that physics professor who just started wearing a toupee?"

"Dr. Leeland!" she screeched before launching into an animated conversation on the topic of her colleague's hair piece just as expected.

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

Bob was so confused. He had been about to jump at the chance to hang out at the bookstore in North Park with Anna when Natasha arrived. At that point, he honestly thought this was going to be the best day he'd had in a while. Anna seemed happy to see him, and one of his best friends was finally home from deployment. But as soon as that thought entered his mind, Anna started acting like she wanted nothing to do with him. So much so that she asked Jess about some guy's fake hair? Bob sat there and listened to the conversation while he ate, trying to interject, but Anna just wasn't having it. She had even rejected his ginger ale.

What the hell did he do wrong? All he wanted to do was talk to her about books and look at her freckles. She was sitting right next to him, but he may as well have been on Jupiter with the way she seemed convinced that he wasn't even there at all.

As everyone started to finish eating, Bob washed his food down with the rest of his ginger ale. Maybe he should just head home early. He'd be spending all week at work with Nat, so it wasn't like he was going to miss out on much there. And being around Anna when she wasn't even looking at him made him feel like an idiot for secretly writing poems about her. He sat at the table alone for an extra minute with his head cradled in his hands, then he took his trash inside the house.

Of course Anna was the only other person in the kitchen, helpfully washing the grilling utensils and other things Bradley left in the sink. She glanced his way briefly before continuing with her task, and Bob headed for the trash can. He had the perfect view of the freckles on the backs of her thighs, but he didn't feel like he should be looking now. He stood quietly for a few seconds before deciding that he'd give this one last try before heading out.

"Anna," he said just loud enough that he knew she could hear him over the running water. "Can we talk? I just feel like I did something to upset you? When you started to invite me to the bookstore, I was going to say yes. Obviously I'd love to go with-"

She looked at him over her shoulder, and he went silent at her glare. "Why don't you just go with Natasha instead?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not the kind of thing she and I usually do together."

"Oh?" she asked, her voice dripping with something that made Bob's skin tingle with goosebumps. "Does she usually recommend books while you're out to dinner? Or do you take her to see her favorite movies?" 

She turned off the water and faced him without bothering to dry her hands. His lips parted as he watched the furious looking blush that crept along her chest, up her neck, and to her cheeks. 

"I don't really do those things with her either," he said slowly, trying to puzzle his way through this. She sounded almost jealous of Nat, but that couldn't be. That didn't make any sense at all. Anna made it clear she didn't want to be with him.

"Well, you're free to do whatever you want, Bob," she said with a shrug, chin held high. "This is why we're just friends. You've already got plenty of women to choose from, like Suzanne and Natasha, and I'm not about to get caught up in another attractive man who seems too good to be true."

She started to duck past him, but Bob blocked her path. "Whoa, whoa! No, you've got it all wrong." She doubled back the other way, but he stepped to the side until she bumped into him. "Suzanne is my elderly neighbor. And Natasha and I are friends," he said quickly, and he was rewarded with Anna's brown eyes snapping up to meet his. "I've known her for years. She's the pilot I usually fly with."

Anna took one stumbling step backwards toward the sink. Her teeth sank into her lip like earlier before she whispered, "Oh." She swallowed hard, drawing Bob's gaze back to the freckles on her neck as her blush grew deeper. "So you're not... into her?"

His voice sounded deep even to his own ears as he promised, "Not even slightly. Not like I'm into you."

The kitchen went so silent that Bob could hear laughter filtering from the patio through the open door, and Anna's expression softened as she took a tiny step forward. Then another one. Then one more before she was launching herself into his arms. Bob could feel her damp hands in his hair as their lips met, and it was nothing like the way they kissed in his truck. She wasn't tentative, and he didn't pull away as she kissed him harder. This time her body was pressed to his, and she moaned softly when he let his hands settle on her hips.

Anna coaxed him impossibly closer with her fingers in his hair and on the back of his neck, and soon he had her pinned against the edge of the counter. He could feel denim rubbing against denim as she parted her lips and wiggled slowly against him. When Bob swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, Anna let him taste her before her lips drifted along to his neck.

"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her hips in his hands as his index finger met the soft skin of her lower back. She was sucking gently on the spot just to the left of his Adam's apple, and there was no way she couldn't feel how hard he was getting for her right now.

Those burgundy fingernails were scraping gently along his scalp as he rolled his hips one time against her body. When Anna licked his neck, he forced himself to ask the question that was fluttering around the peripheral of his aroused brain. "Are you going to tell me this is another mistake? Like that night in my truck?"

Anna pulled her lips away from his pulse point long enough to whisper, "It wasn't even a mistake last time. I just couldn't help myself."

Then Bob kissed her lips until she was clinging to him with her back arched against the counter and her hips held tightly in his hands. When he could tell someone was coming inside, he pulled himself away, panting as she tried to chase him for more. He could see the questioning look on her face as he stepped aside just before Mickey and Jake walked inside, arguing about who ate the last hot dog.

Anna turned back toward the sink as she blushed, and Bob was aching to kiss her again. Dying to confirm that she wasn't going to write him off again. He cleared his throat and asked, "Will you let me drive you home later?"

Bob heard her soft laugh and whispered, "Yes." Then with a smile, he took the last can of ginger ale from the refrigerator and set it on the counter next to her. She looked up at him, eyes filled with need as he excused himself back out to the patio where he started to count down the minutes until he could suggest it was late enough to leave.

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

Anna, you are living the dream, baby! Let him love you the way he wants to! And once again, in Natasha we trust. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#Imlove you promise #bob floyd fanfiction #read her like a book #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #robert floyd x oc

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Bahaha excellent plot twist! Just desserts and all! Fantastic story, Nat doesn’t get enough love in the fic world!

Red Wine, Fall into me

Warnings: Language, Alcohol consumption, Smut. 18+ (Phoenix x Female Reader) banner by the wonderful @thedroneranger Fic inspired by the Chappell Roan song "Red Wine Supernova"

...........................................

You know they say not to waste a Friday night on a first date.

Yet, here you were, in a nice dress, walking into a cocktail bar, to meet some guy, from some app, on a Friday night for a first date. You'd spent a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair, makeup, and picking out the perfect outfit that was the right balance of "I'm a good girl," and "I just might let you take me home if you play your cards right."

You texted your date that you were there and that you'd be at the bar. You were there a few minutes before your agreed upon time, so you walked up to the bar top, which had a middle-aged couple at one end, and a pretty dark-haired brunette at the other.

You took a seat a few stools down from her and ordered a glass of merlot from the bartender. He sat it down quickly in front of you as you checked your phone to see if your date had responded to your text. You felt immediately defeated to see that it still had not been read.

A few minutes ticked by, and it was now the time you and your date had set to meet. You fired off another text asking if he was there, with no response. Several minutes later, you sent one asking if he was on his way and nothing. Finally, a full thirty minutes and a second glass of wine later, he sent you a message saying that something came up, and he wouldn't make it.

You huffed as you sat your phone down on the counter and groaned. Of course, this would happen to you. This was the last time you agreed to a date from an app.

You sighed and finished the last sip of wine in your glass and rummaged through your purse for your card. Before you could pull it out, though, you heard a soft voice speak. "Put her last two on my tab, and bring us another round if you don't mind."

You look up and see the pretty brunette from earlier handing her card over and taking a seat next to you. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that." You smile at her. "I know, but I want to." She smiles back at you, extending her hand for you to shake, "I'm Natasha, by the way. What's your name?"

You tell her your name, and she repeats it back, slowly, savoring every syllable of it like it's a fine wine. You don't think your name has ever sounded as good as it does coming out of her mouth.

"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?" She asks you. "I was supposed to have a date but—he stood me up." You sigh. "His loss is my gain then." Natasha says as she brings her own wine glass up to her lips. You blush at her words.

"What about you?" You fire back at her. "I just wanted a nice quiet night out, away from the crowds. Somewhere that I could relax and make a new—friend." She winks at you and slides her stool closer to yours.

"So, tell me about yourself." She says, and she rests her foot on the bottom of your stool. Your thighs part just enough to accommodate her toned leg that's exposed from the slit in her dress.

A shiver runs down your spine as you tell her about your job and some of your friends and what you like to do for fun. Her eyes stayed glued to yours, and she nods and questions and seems genuinely interested in you. "What about you?" You ask her when you finish.

"I'm in the Navy. I'm an aviator." She says as if it's the most casual thing in the world.

"Oh. So I guess you're used to going fast and doing what you want then." You smirk at her. "I can go fast." She says as she leans into your space. "But—" she sighs as she places her hand on your thigh. "—I actually have a partner in the backseat that I have to listen to, so I'm very good at taking directions. And, there are so many controls in the cockpit, that I have to be excellent with precision." She breathes out.

Natasha leans in closer to you. "I've always been amazing and zeroing in on my target and finishing the job. She whispers in your ear before pulling back. You swallow thickly and shift in your seat, unable to ignore the wetness pooling between your thighs and the heat that you feel in your belly that isn't from the wine.

"Is that so?" You say, cocking your head to the side. "Now, what exactly would one have to do if they want to see these skills in action?" You pry. "I think after a few glasses of wine and a dance or two, I might be convinced. Care to find out?" A crimson smile curls at her lips as she extends her hand to you.

You nod your head and slip your hand in hers. She places her palm on the small of your back, just a tad too low to be considered decent as she guides you to the dance floor. She presses closer to you to avoid the other people already there. You can smell her perfume. Floral and spicy with a hint of sweet. It is so intoxicating that it makes your head spin more than any glass of wine ever could.

Natasha drags you directly to the middle of the dance floor amongst all the other couples. She spins you around and presses your back to her front. There is absolutely no space between the two of you, and you can feel every soft curve of her body pressed against yours.

You sway to the beat of some song you don't know as her hands skim up and down your arms before resting on your hips. She pulls your hair over one of your shoulders and rests her chin on your newly exposed skin. You shiver as she places a gentle, fleeting kiss on your shoulder. You feel the blush in your cheeks spread all over your body.

"You okay there, pretty girl?" Natasha asks you. "Y—yeah." You stammer out. "Just a little warm is all."

"Why don't we go get some air." She whispers hotly in your ear. Her breathy voice has you weak in the knees. You nod your head in agreement, unable to trust your own voice.

It's quieter outside. So quiet you can hear your heartbeat racing in your ears as the two of you make your way to a secluded spot on the far side of the deck. The fresh salty air fills your lungs as you try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. You lean against the deck railing and watch the waves roll in as the moonlight dances across the dark ocean.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Natasha says as she comes to stand beside you. "It's breathtaking." You say as you turn to face her. "It's not the only breathtaking thing out here." She says, looking you directly in the eye. "No, it's not." You counter.

You inhale deeply as she takes a step forward and places on and on your hip, drawing you closer to her. She uses her free hand to brush a few stray strands of your hair away before cupping your face and pulling you closer to her.

Her lips are pillowy soft when they connect with yours. Her hand slides to the back of your hair, tangling in your locks to hold you in place. You wrap both of your arms around her neck as she trails her tonuge across the seam of your lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

You gladly grant her access, and you moan as her tongue caresses yours. The kiss is sweet, with the last drops of your wine still on each other's mouths.

You moan and lean into her when you feel her fingers dig into your hip. She takes a step closer and pushes your back against the metal deck rail, her lips never leaving yours as her kisses become more hungry, more demanding.

She pulls her mouth away from yours, and you gasp as she trails her perfect pout across your chin and jaw before grazing your ear lobe with her teeth. You inhale sharply, and it's like music to Natasha's ears.

She continues her assault, trying to draw even more new sounds from you. Her lips skim over the sensitive flesh of your neck. You find yourself arching towards her, silently begging her for more. You feel her smile against you before she carefully grazes her teeth over the sensitive flesh before pulling back and laving it with her tongue. She repeats the action and your hand tangles in her dark strands, holding her in place. She chuckles and continues to work the space between your shoulder and ear, surely leaving a few dark marks behind, but you don't care. You want her to mark you up—claim you as hers.

You draw her mouth back to yours and kiss her until you're breathless. She pulls back and her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are red.

"I don't normally do this, y'know." You confess to her.

"Neither do I." She tells you truthfully.

You heave a sigh of relief. "I don't think I've ever done this, actually. But there's something about you that's—magical." You say as you bite down on your lower lip and bat your eyes at her.

"If you think I'm magic here, you should let me take you home. I've got a wand and a rabbit that I can show you all kinds of tricks with." She smirks at you.

................

A few minutes later, the two of you are in the back of an Uber going to Natasha's place. Her hand rests brazenly on your upper thigh, and her nimble fingers are tracing deft patterns across your skin. You squim in your seat, trying to keep yourself calm, when really, all you want to do is plant yourself in her lap and kiss her again.

The two of you somehow make it up the small path that leads to her front door. She unlocks it and pulls you in. Once the door is shut and she's clicked the lock, she pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly. You meet her kisses with passion. Both sets of your hands roam over each other, desperately.

Natasha has enough sense to practically drag you into her bedroom. You stand there a little awkwardly until she comes up behind you and slowly unzips you dress. Her lips trace your spine, leaving faint, wine colored kisses from her leftover lipstick on your flesh.

The garment drops to the floor, and you turn around to face her. She admires how your nipples are peaked and perky with anticipation. The scrap of lace, that could barely be called underwear, that you chose to wear tonight has an obvious dark spot on it. "Such a shame you date didn't get to see this." Natasha breathes out as she lightly grazes the front of it.

You shiver, and she lets out a breathy laugh. You reach for her, catching her wrist and pulling her to you. Your hands reach for her zipper. "Fair is fair." You mumble against her lips as she lets you pull it down before tugging the fabric off of her.

"Lay dow for me, pretty girl." Natasha says when she's kicked her dress to the side and shimmied out of her underwear. You take a moment to take in her form as you slip if your own panties.

Her dark hair falls gracefully over her shoulders. Her breasts are perky and lovely. She has a neatly shaved landing strip that draws your eyes to where you most want to be.

You lay back on her bed, making yourself comfortable on her pillows. Your breathing is shallow as her eyes rake over you.

"You're so fucking beautiful." She says as she crawls towards you. Beautiful. Not pretty, not hot, beautiful. You love how she talks about you. How she makes you feel seen.

"Thank you." You say before you can even think about it. She laughs as she reaches into her nightstand and pulls out the wand and rabbit that she mentioned earlier.

She sets them to the side before gently straddling your hips. She leans down to kiss you. Slowly, this time, it's more deliberate and precise. The two of you let your hands roam over each other's body. She tweaks your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and your arch toward her touch.

Not to be outdone, you wrap your lips around one of her peaks, and she lets out a gorgeous breathy moan that has your heart racing. She whines when you release the flesh with a soft pop but groans and leans into you when you repeat the action on the other. She subtly grinds her hips against you, seeking friction to relieve the ache between her thighs. You grab her thighs and help guide her, and she hums before stopping and sliding off of you.

"Mmm, not yet beautiful. There will be time for that. Let me take care of you first." She smiles at you. You huff a little, but don't protest. Natasha trails her lips across your breasts and chest and down your stomach. She circles her tongue around your navel before placing a kiss on your cunt, right about your clit.

You sigh as you sink deeper into her pillows, inhaling more of her intoxicating scent from earlier. She carefully parts your thighs and slots herself between them.

She grabs your left leg, and feathers kisses up from your knee towards your center and back down, a few times before switching to the right. She's taking her time building you up. And just when you think you are going to burst from her teasing, she places a fleeting kiss on your clit. You squeal and rock your hips upward, chasing her mouth.

She does it again, gently parting your folds with the delicate tip of her tongue, circling the sensitive bud and sucking it into her mouth.

She laps at your core, drinking in the taste of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Wanton moans leave your mouth, and your chest heaves. One of your hands tightly fists her sheets, the other curling on her hair to hold her right where you want her. You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back as pure ecstacy washes over you when you cum.

Natasha works you through it until you push her head away. You lean up on your elbows and meet her eyes. She has a satisfied grin on her face. "How was that?" She asks almost cockily.

"Fantastic." You reply breathlessly. "I'm not done with you yet." She tells you as she reaches for her wand. You swallow and spread your legs for her.

She turns it on a low setting and starts by rubbing it over your nipples and down your body to get you used to the sensation. Slowly, she lowers it to your clit. You jump, still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you relax as she circles it around you bundle of nerves.

You feel one of her slender fingers circle around your entrance. "So fucking wet. All this for me, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes." You breathe out. You're jilted by a smack to your cunt. "Say my name, pretty girl. Tell me who's got you like this? Who got your pretty pussy absolutely dripping?" She commands.

"You—you did, Natasha. It's all for you." You babble out. She's satisfied with your answer and rewards you by sinking not one, but two of her long digits inside you and curling them upwards. You cry out her name as she finds your gspot impossibly fast. It should be a crime at how well she already knows your body as she strokes it with the perfect amount of speed and pressure.

She gages each sound you make and adjusts the wand on your clit and her fingers in your cunt. You have to give it to her, she wasn't lying when she said she could take directions.

Your head thrashes from side to side, and you're babbling out her name as she brings you closer to a second orgasm. Your toes curl against the mattress and you bite your bottom lip in an effort to keep your sounds at bay.

Natasha immediately tells you to be loud for her, and you're too for gone, and she has you so damn pliant that you'd do anything for her right now. So you release your lip and scream her name as you cum, gripping her fingers tightly, never wanting them to leave you.

When she does pull them out, you whine at the loss of contact, but it's short lived, because Natasha is crawling up your body and tapping her fingers on your lips.

You obediently open your mouth and close them around her digits, dutifully cleaning them for her. You groan at the taste of you on her hands. Once you've cleaned her, you pull off with a pop and kiss her. Your tongues meld together as you pull her onto of you.

You cradle her head and hook your legs around her waist and flip her under you. "Mine turn." You giggled as she looks up at you, bewildered. "Okay, then." She smiles down at you.

You cup each of her breasts in your hands and roll her nipples between your fingers. She lets out a small gasp as you kiss the tops of her breasts and the valley between them before continuing your journey south. You leave wet kisses across her hip bones and suck a dark mark into her right one, a little reminder of you for later.

You don't tease her like she teased you. You're too impatient. You've been dreaming about what she tasted like ever since you watched her bring that first glass of red wine to her lips this evening.

You tenderly part of folds before licking a long, broad stripe from her opening to her clit.

Natasha arches up off the bed, her hands flying to the sheets, clutching them for dear life. You repeated the motion over again before hooking one of her thighs over your shoulder. She's much more squirmy than you expected.

You work her over and over, tongue diving into her her sopping wet opening, nose bumping her clit.

She cries out your name, fingers in your hair, as you blindly reach for her other toy from earlier. You silently cheer as your hand wraps around her rabbit vibrator.

You turn it on and pull your mouth away from her. Natasha groans at the loss of contact but whimpers when she feels the tip of the vibe at her entrance. You push it in slowly until it is fully seated in her tight, wet, perfect cut.

She lets out a shaky breath as you slowly withdraw the toy and push it back it. You repeat the motion, picking up speed with each thrust. Soon, her hips are meeting it, and the sounds of lewd, wet fucking mixed with cries of your name are bouncing off her walls.

"Guess you had a few tricks up your sleeve, too." She laughs and rolls on top of you and sits up she slides down your body until you can feel her warm pussy right above yours.

Her walls grip the toy tightly, and her voice rises in pitch as she cums hard for you, back arching so hard that you're afraid she might hurt herself. "Fucking magical," you praise her as she comes down from her high. You slide up beside her on the bed. She's panting, trying to catch her breath.

"Think you have one more in you, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes, ma'am." You reply. She smiles at you before drawing you up to her lips.

She kisses you tenderly, rocking your hips together, creating a delicious friction between your clits. Your previous orgasms have both of you so wet, that you glide along each other with ease.

Your fingers dig into her thighs as you help guide her, pulling her tighter against you. You feel that familiar coil curling deep into your belly, and your head drops to her shoulder as you roll your hips to meet hers.

Natasha wraps a hand around your throat and draws you back to her. There is a glassy look of pleasure in her eyes, but she squeezes just enough to let you know that she's still in charge. "Cum with me." It's not a request, it's a demand, and who are you to deny her when she's making you feel so good?

You cum together. It's hard and messy and absolutely the most amazing feeling you've ever had. You collapse on the bed, and Natasha falls into you, both utterly spent.

Sometime later, when you can both feel your legs, the two of you make your way to the shower. After cleaning each other, you help her change the sheets, and the two of you get tangled in each other's arms and fall asleep.

..............

Six weeks later, you're slipping your hand into Natasha's as you follow her into the Hard Deck on a Friday night. This time, you're not meeting some guy from some app that you deleted ages ago. Instead, your girlfriend is introducing you to her coworkers.

You had already met Bob, her backseater, a few weeks ago because he insisted on meeting you because Nat, or Phoenix as she was known to her friends, couldn't stop talking about you.

Natasha quickly got the two of you a beer before weaving through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.

She takes her time introducing you to each one of them. You smile and wave and try not to be awkward.

"Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Phoenix." A male voice draws out. You turn, and you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. "Bagman." Natasha replies flatly. "Always a pleasure, Nix, but what I want to know is who is your friend?" The tall blonde asks.

"This is my girlfriend, jackass, so don't get any ideas." Nat says. "Babe, this is—"

"Jake. Right?" You say cutting her off. "Yeah? How did you know that?" She looks at you with a questioning glance. Jake looks at you equally, confused, trying to decide if you're familiar or not.

"Remember my date that stood me up a few weeks ago, the night we met?" You ask her.

"No. You're kidding." Nat smiles before belting out a laugh. Suddenly Jake's eyes go wide as he connects the dots on who you are.

"Son of a bitch, Bagman, I think I owe you a drink." Nat laughs as you and her other friends join in. Jake's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Nat wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "But seriously, Jake. Thank you for being a dick. If you hadn't stood her up, I might not have met this amazing woman. Seriously, I owe you one." Natasha smiles at him before pulling you in for a kiss.

............

Eeeekkk! I hope yall enjoyed this! This was my first time writing for Nat! Let me know what you think with a comment or reblog!

Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @mak-32 @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @withahappyrefrain

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix smut #lt. natasha trace #natasha trace #natasha trace smut #tgm smut #tgm fic

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Can’t wait to read this!

Red Wine, Fall into me

Warnings: Language, Alcohol consumption, Smut. 18+ (Phoenix x Female Reader) banner by the wonderful @thedroneranger Fic inspired by the Chappell Roan song "Red Wine Supernova"

...........................................

You know they say not to waste a Friday night on a first date.

Yet, here you were, in a nice dress, walking into a cocktail bar, to meet some guy, from some app, on a Friday night for a first date. You'd spent a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair, makeup, and picking out the perfect outfit that was the right balance of "I'm a good girl," and "I just might let you take me home if you play your cards right."

You texted your date that you were there and that you'd be at the bar. You were there a few minutes before your agreed upon time, so you walked up to the bar top, which had a middle-aged couple at one end, and a pretty dark-haired brunette at the other.

You took a seat a few stools down from her and ordered a glass of merlot from the bartender. He sat it down quickly in front of you as you checked your phone to see if your date had responded to your text. You felt immediately defeated to see that it still had not been read.

A few minutes ticked by, and it was now the time you and your date had set to meet. You fired off another text asking if he was there, with no response. Several minutes later, you sent one asking if he was on his way and nothing. Finally, a full thirty minutes and a second glass of wine later, he sent you a message saying that something came up, and he wouldn't make it.

You huffed as you sat your phone down on the counter and groaned. Of course, this would happen to you. This was the last time you agreed to a date from an app.

You sighed and finished the last sip of wine in your glass and rummaged through your purse for your card. Before you could pull it out, though, you heard a soft voice speak. "Put her last two on my tab, and bring us another round if you don't mind."

You look up and see the pretty brunette from earlier handing her card over and taking a seat next to you. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that." You smile at her. "I know, but I want to." She smiles back at you, extending her hand for you to shake, "I'm Natasha, by the way. What's your name?"

You tell her your name, and she repeats it back, slowly, savoring every syllable of it like it's a fine wine. You don't think your name has ever sounded as good as it does coming out of her mouth.

"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?" She asks you. "I was supposed to have a date but—he stood me up." You sigh. "His loss is my gain then." Natasha says as she brings her own wine glass up to her lips. You blush at her words.

"What about you?" You fire back at her. "I just wanted a nice quiet night out, away from the crowds. Somewhere that I could relax and make a new—friend." She winks at you and slides her stool closer to yours.

"So, tell me about yourself." She says, and she rests her foot on the bottom of your stool. Your thighs part just enough to accommodate her toned leg that's exposed from the slit in her dress.

A shiver runs down your spine as you tell her about your job and some of your friends and what you like to do for fun. Her eyes stayed glued to yours, and she nods and questions and seems genuinely interested in you. "What about you?" You ask her when you finish.

"I'm in the Navy. I'm an aviator." She says as if it's the most casual thing in the world.

"Oh. So I guess you're used to going fast and doing what you want then." You smirk at her. "I can go fast." She says as she leans into your space. "But—" she sighs as she places her hand on your thigh. "—I actually have a partner in the backseat that I have to listen to, so I'm very good at taking directions. And, there are so many controls in the cockpit, that I have to be excellent with precision." She breathes out.

Natasha leans in closer to you. "I've always been amazing and zeroing in on my target and finishing the job. She whispers in your ear before pulling back. You swallow thickly and shift in your seat, unable to ignore the wetness pooling between your thighs and the heat that you feel in your belly that isn't from the wine.

"Is that so?" You say, cocking your head to the side. "Now, what exactly would one have to do if they want to see these skills in action?" You pry. "I think after a few glasses of wine and a dance or two, I might be convinced. Care to find out?" A crimson smile curls at her lips as she extends her hand to you.

You nod your head and slip your hand in hers. She places her palm on the small of your back, just a tad too low to be considered decent as she guides you to the dance floor. She presses closer to you to avoid the other people already there. You can smell her perfume. Floral and spicy with a hint of sweet. It is so intoxicating that it makes your head spin more than any glass of wine ever could.

Natasha drags you directly to the middle of the dance floor amongst all the other couples. She spins you around and presses your back to her front. There is absolutely no space between the two of you, and you can feel every soft curve of her body pressed against yours.

You sway to the beat of some song you don't know as her hands skim up and down your arms before resting on your hips. She pulls your hair over one of your shoulders and rests her chin on your newly exposed skin. You shiver as she places a gentle, fleeting kiss on your shoulder. You feel the blush in your cheeks spread all over your body.

"You okay there, pretty girl?" Natasha asks you. "Y—yeah." You stammer out. "Just a little warm is all."

"Why don't we go get some air." She whispers hotly in your ear. Her breathy voice has you weak in the knees. You nod your head in agreement, unable to trust your own voice.

It's quieter outside. So quiet you can hear your heartbeat racing in your ears as the two of you make your way to a secluded spot on the far side of the deck. The fresh salty air fills your lungs as you try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. You lean against the deck railing and watch the waves roll in as the moonlight dances across the dark ocean.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Natasha says as she comes to stand beside you. "It's breathtaking." You say as you turn to face her. "It's not the only breathtaking thing out here." She says, looking you directly in the eye. "No, it's not." You counter.

You inhale deeply as she takes a step forward and places on and on your hip, drawing you closer to her. She uses her free hand to brush a few stray strands of your hair away before cupping your face and pulling you closer to her.

Her lips are pillowy soft when they connect with yours. Her hand slides to the back of your hair, tangling in your locks to hold you in place. You wrap both of your arms around her neck as she trails her tonuge across the seam of your lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

You gladly grant her access, and you moan as her tongue caresses yours. The kiss is sweet, with the last drops of your wine still on each other's mouths.

You moan and lean into her when you feel her fingers dig into your hip. She takes a step closer and pushes your back against the metal deck rail, her lips never leaving yours as her kisses become more hungry, more demanding.

She pulls her mouth away from yours, and you gasp as she trails her perfect pout across your chin and jaw before grazing your ear lobe with her teeth. You inhale sharply, and it's like music to Natasha's ears.

She continues her assault, trying to draw even more new sounds from you. Her lips skim over the sensitive flesh of your neck. You find yourself arching towards her, silently begging her for more. You feel her smile against you before she carefully grazes her teeth over the sensitive flesh before pulling back and laving it with her tongue. She repeats the action and your hand tangles in her dark strands, holding her in place. She chuckles and continues to work the space between your shoulder and ear, surely leaving a few dark marks behind, but you don't care. You want her to mark you up—claim you as hers.

You draw her mouth back to yours and kiss her until you're breathless. She pulls back and her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are red.

"I don't normally do this, y'know." You confess to her.

"Neither do I." She tells you truthfully.

You heave a sigh of relief. "I don't think I've ever done this, actually. But there's something about you that's—magical." You say as you bite down on your lower lip and bat your eyes at her.

"If you think I'm magic here, you should let me take you home. I've got a wand and a rabbit that I can show you all kinds of tricks with." She smirks at you.

................

A few minutes later, the two of you are in the back of an Uber going to Natasha's place. Her hand rests brazenly on your upper thigh, and her nimble fingers are tracing deft patterns across your skin. You squim in your seat, trying to keep yourself calm, when really, all you want to do is plant yourself in her lap and kiss her again.

The two of you somehow make it up the small path that leads to her front door. She unlocks it and pulls you in. Once the door is shut and she's clicked the lock, she pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly. You meet her kisses with passion. Both sets of your hands roam over each other, desperately.

Natasha has enough sense to practically drag you into her bedroom. You stand there a little awkwardly until she comes up behind you and slowly unzips you dress. Her lips trace your spine, leaving faint, wine colored kisses from her leftover lipstick on your flesh.

The garment drops to the floor, and you turn around to face her. She admires how your nipples are peaked and perky with anticipation. The scrap of lace, that could barely be called underwear, that you chose to wear tonight has an obvious dark spot on it. "Such a shame you date didn't get to see this." Natasha breathes out as she lightly grazes the front of it.

You shiver, and she lets out a breathy laugh. You reach for her, catching her wrist and pulling her to you. Your hands reach for her zipper. "Fair is fair." You mumble against her lips as she lets you pull it down before tugging the fabric off of her.

"Lay dow for me, pretty girl." Natasha says when she's kicked her dress to the side and shimmied out of her underwear. You take a moment to take in her form as you slip if your own panties.

Her dark hair falls gracefully over her shoulders. Her breasts are perky and lovely. She has a neatly shaved landing strip that draws your eyes to where you most want to be.

You lay back on her bed, making yourself comfortable on her pillows. Your breathing is shallow as her eyes rake over you.

"You're so fucking beautiful." She says as she crawls towards you. Beautiful. Not pretty, not hot, beautiful. You love how she talks about you. How she makes you feel seen.

"Thank you." You say before you can even think about it. She laughs as she reaches into her nightstand and pulls out the wand and rabbit that she mentioned earlier.

She sets them to the side before gently straddling your hips. She leans down to kiss you. Slowly, this time, it's more deliberate and precise. The two of you let your hands roam over each other's body. She tweaks your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and your arch toward her touch.

Not to be outdone, you wrap your lips around one of her peaks, and she lets out a gorgeous breathy moan that has your heart racing. She whines when you release the flesh with a soft pop but groans and leans into you when you repeat the action on the other. She subtly grinds her hips against you, seeking friction to relieve the ache between her thighs. You grab her thighs and help guide her, and she hums before stopping and sliding off of you.

"Mmm, not yet beautiful. There will be time for that. Let me take care of you first." She smiles at you. You huff a little, but don't protest. Natasha trails her lips across your breasts and chest and down your stomach. She circles her tongue around your navel before placing a kiss on your cunt, right about your clit.

You sigh as you sink deeper into her pillows, inhaling more of her intoxicating scent from earlier. She carefully parts your thighs and slots herself between them.

She grabs your left leg, and feathers kisses up from your knee towards your center and back down, a few times before switching to the right. She's taking her time building you up. And just when you think you are going to burst from her teasing, she places a fleeting kiss on your clit. You squeal and rock your hips upward, chasing her mouth.

She does it again, gently parting your folds with the delicate tip of her tongue, circling the sensitive bud and sucking it into her mouth.

She laps at your core, drinking in the taste of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Wanton moans leave your mouth, and your chest heaves. One of your hands tightly fists her sheets, the other curling on her hair to hold her right where you want her. You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back as pure ecstacy washes over you when you cum.

Natasha works you through it until you push her head away. You lean up on your elbows and meet her eyes. She has a satisfied grin on her face. "How was that?" She asks almost cockily.

"Fantastic." You reply breathlessly. "I'm not done with you yet." She tells you as she reaches for her wand. You swallow and spread your legs for her.

She turns it on a low setting and starts by rubbing it over your nipples and down your body to get you used to the sensation. Slowly, she lowers it to your clit. You jump, still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you relax as she circles it around you bundle of nerves.

You feel one of her slender fingers circle around your entrance. "So fucking wet. All this for me, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes." You breathe out. You're jilted by a smack to your cunt. "Say my name, pretty girl. Tell me who's got you like this? Who got your pretty pussy absolutely dripping?" She commands.

"You—you did, Natasha. It's all for you." You babble out. She's satisfied with your answer and rewards you by sinking not one, but two of her long digits inside you and curling them upwards. You cry out her name as she finds your gspot impossibly fast. It should be a crime at how well she already knows your body as she strokes it with the perfect amount of speed and pressure.

She gages each sound you make and adjusts the wand on your clit and her fingers in your cunt. You have to give it to her, she wasn't lying when she said she could take directions.

Your head thrashes from side to side, and you're babbling out her name as she brings you closer to a second orgasm. Your toes curl against the mattress and you bite your bottom lip in an effort to keep your sounds at bay.

Natasha immediately tells you to be loud for her, and you're too for gone, and she has you so damn pliant that you'd do anything for her right now. So you release your lip and scream her name as you cum, gripping her fingers tightly, never wanting them to leave you.

When she does pull them out, you whine at the loss of contact, but it's short lived, because Natasha is crawling up your body and tapping her fingers on your lips.

You obediently open your mouth and close them around her digits, dutifully cleaning them for her. You groan at the taste of you on her hands. Once you've cleaned her, you pull off with a pop and kiss her. Your tongues meld together as you pull her onto of you.

You cradle her head and hook your legs around her waist and flip her under you. "Mine turn." You giggled as she looks up at you, bewildered. "Okay, then." She smiles down at you.

You cup each of her breasts in your hands and roll her nipples between your fingers. She lets out a small gasp as you kiss the tops of her breasts and the valley between them before continuing your journey south. You leave wet kisses across her hip bones and suck a dark mark into her right one, a little reminder of you for later.

You don't tease her like she teased you. You're too impatient. You've been dreaming about what she tasted like ever since you watched her bring that first glass of red wine to her lips this evening.

You tenderly part of folds before licking a long, broad stripe from her opening to her clit.

Natasha arches up off the bed, her hands flying to the sheets, clutching them for dear life. You repeated the motion over again before hooking one of her thighs over your shoulder. She's much more squirmy than you expected.

You work her over and over, tongue diving into her her sopping wet opening, nose bumping her clit.

She cries out your name, fingers in your hair, as you blindly reach for her other toy from earlier. You silently cheer as your hand wraps around her rabbit vibrator.

You turn it on and pull your mouth away from her. Natasha groans at the loss of contact but whimpers when she feels the tip of the vibe at her entrance. You push it in slowly until it is fully seated in her tight, wet, perfect cut.

She lets out a shaky breath as you slowly withdraw the toy and push it back it. You repeat the motion, picking up speed with each thrust. Soon, her hips are meeting it, and the sounds of lewd, wet fucking mixed with cries of your name are bouncing off her walls.

"Guess you had a few tricks up your sleeve, too." She laughs and rolls on top of you and sits up she slides down your body until you can feel her warm pussy right above yours.

Her walls grip the toy tightly, and her voice rises in pitch as she cums hard for you, back arching so hard that you're afraid she might hurt herself. "Fucking magical," you praise her as she comes down from her high. You slide up beside her on the bed. She's panting, trying to catch her breath.

"Think you have one more in you, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes, ma'am." You reply. She smiles at you before drawing you up to her lips.

She kisses you tenderly, rocking your hips together, creating a delicious friction between your clits. Your previous orgasms have both of you so wet, that you glide along each other with ease.

Your fingers dig into her thighs as you help guide her, pulling her tighter against you. You feel that familiar coil curling deep into your belly, and your head drops to her shoulder as you roll your hips to meet hers.

Natasha wraps a hand around your throat and draws you back to her. There is a glassy look of pleasure in her eyes, but she squeezes just enough to let you know that she's still in charge. "Cum with me." It's not a request, it's a demand, and who are you to deny her when she's making you feel so good?

You cum together. It's hard and messy and absolutely the most amazing feeling you've ever had. You collapse on the bed, and Natasha falls into you, both utterly spent.

Sometime later, when you can both feel your legs, the two of you make your way to the shower. After cleaning each other, you help her change the sheets, and the two of you get tangled in each other's arms and fall asleep.

..............

Six weeks later, you're slipping your hand into Natasha's as you follow her into the Hard Deck on a Friday night. This time, you're not meeting some guy from some app that you deleted ages ago. Instead, your girlfriend is introducing you to her coworkers.

You had already met Bob, her backseater, a few weeks ago because he insisted on meeting you because Nat, or Phoenix as she was known to her friends, couldn't stop talking about you.

Natasha quickly got the two of you a beer before weaving through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.

She takes her time introducing you to each one of them. You smile and wave and try not to be awkward.

"Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Phoenix." A male voice draws out. You turn, and you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. "Bagman." Natasha replies flatly. "Always a pleasure, Nix, but what I want to know is who is your friend?" The tall blonde asks.

"This is my girlfriend, jackass, so don't get any ideas." Nat says. "Babe, this is—"

"Jake. Right?" You say cutting her off. "Yeah? How did you know that?" She looks at you with a questioning glance. Jake looks at you equally, confused, trying to decide if you're familiar or not.

"Remember my date that stood me up a few weeks ago, the night we met?" You ask her.

"No. You're kidding." Nat smiles before belting out a laugh. Suddenly Jake's eyes go wide as he connects the dots on who you are.

"Son of a bitch, Bagman, I think I owe you a drink." Nat laughs as you and her other friends join in. Jake's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Nat wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "But seriously, Jake. Thank you for being a dick. If you hadn't stood her up, I might not have met this amazing woman. Seriously, I owe you one." Natasha smiles at him before pulling you in for a kiss.

............

Eeeekkk! I hope yall enjoyed this! This was my first time writing for Nat! Let me know what you think with a comment or reblog!

Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @mak-32 @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @withahappyrefrain

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy~! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifications anonymously. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity~!

Oh boy! I never get asked anything on here. So thank you anonymous for including me 😘

Five things that make me happy:

1. My husband

2. My daughter

3. FanFiction (seriously couldn’t get by without it)

4. Watching Sports (just about all of it)

5. Pageants (don’t at me unless it’s to hear how wonderful they’ve been to my survival in this world and helped me create the family I never had!)

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Holy shit! You’re right! The similarities are so there!

HEAR ME OUT: Tuck Everlasting but it’s the Abbotts instead of the Tucks. The roles actually make so much sense??? Especially with Rhett = Jesse and Perry = Miles???? The way they live an old fashioned life away from everyone? And how they would definitely feel the weight of living forever? I was in my feels about Tuck Everlasting last night and the thought struck me suddenly this morning and now I can’t stop thinking about it.

#rhett abbott #outer range #tuck everlasting #the crossover no one asked for #but it makes so much sense #you’re not wrong

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Oh my goodness, this was magnificent! And Lewis 🥹 so cute!

Honey, Honey

Summary: Based off this ask for my Taste of Twenty-Five event. All the reasons Bob really loves his truck in chronological order.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Reader has a service dog for unspecified food allergy. Illness, death(not Bob or reader), swearing, the training exercise accident and smut at the end. MDNI 18+ only!

Word count: 6,560 (I got a bit carried away)

Masterlist M's Taste of Twenty-Five Masterlist

Bob’s truck meant the world to him. He had been obsessed with it growing up. He’d ride around in the cab with his grandpa around town. They’d have the windows rolled down and would be listening to an old blues tape. The cup holders always had two cups of sweet tea in them. There was a picture of his nan in the visor and Bob always dreamt about having a picture of his future girl up there. His grandpa took great pride in his truck. Bob remembered all the times they would be in the garage with him handing him tools and turning over the key when he was told to.

“Can you hand me that wrench?” Bob grabbed the wrench quickly and handed it over to his grandpa. There had been a gurgling noise when they had run up town and when his grandpa asked Bob if he wanted to help find out the problem Bob jumped at the opportunity. 

“Bobby boy go ahead and turn it over for me.” His grandpa called from his place under the hood. 

“Okay pops.” Little Bobby wasn’t even tall enough to reach the pedals but he could reach the key. He jumped into the truck and pushed the key into the ignition. Excitement was coursing through his little body as he turned the key and the engine came to life. He loved that truck then because it was something him and his grandpa bonded over. 

Then eventually his grandpa got sick and wasn’t able to drive the truck anymore and it sat and sat and sat. Until his grandpa passed away at the beginning of his junior year of high school. His grandpa had left the truck to Bob in his will. So Bob got a job as a busboy up in town that he would juggle between school and helping out on the farm. 

He saved up all his money and during the summer between junior year and senior year he fixed up the truck. He had it repainted the vibrant green it used to be. He had a strict schedule written down in a little notebook he kept in the glove box on when to change the oil, the tires and all the maintenance he’d done. He loved that truck then because it was a small piece of his grandpa he’d always have with him. 

Then when he went off to college he had packed up the bed and made the solo trip with one of those old blues tapes and a glass of sweet tea in the cup holder. When nights would get stressful due to exams or work or missing home he’d climb into that truck and go driving, never having anywhere in mind. He’d flip that visor down and look at the blank spot where the picture of his nan used to be and dream of a day he could add his own picture up there. He loved the truck then because it was a piece of home. 

Eventually that truck moved to and from different bases depending on where he was deployed. He never owned much so it was always easy to pack everything up in the bed and take those solo trips. He’d occasionally look in the passenger seat and wish there was someone there enjoying the old blues tapes that filled the glove box. He loved the truck then because of all the possibilities it made him hopeful for. 

The first time he ever met you he’d been driving to the farmers market early one Saturday morning to get some groceries for the week. He always liked to be one of the first ones there as it was always quieter and he could go booth to booth at a good pace. There was also a booth with tea, coffee and baked goods that opened before all the others that he liked to go to first thing. 

He was only about ten minutes away when he spotted you. You were on the side of the road, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder staring at the smoke billowing out of your hood. He pulled over behind you and clumsily climbed out of the truck. He adjusted his glasses and made his way over to where you were standing. You weren’t alone either, you had a cute little gray and white pitbull sitting next to you that looked at him curiously upon his approach. One ear was mostly gone and its tail looked a bit short as well. Bob noticed he wore a service dog vest. 

“Please don’t put me on hold again.” Your voice was pleading but you let out a large huff of air, rubbing your fingers into your temple. Bob guessed whoever was on the other line had indeed put you on hold. Bob cleared his throat awkwardly and your eyes snapped open from where you had closed them. 

“Uhm. Hello?” You greeted him, he could see clear confusion on your face, which was very pretty he might add.

“I noticed you were having some trouble and I was wondering if I could help out in any way?” His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Oh. Do you happen to know anything about cars?” The look on your face now was pure hope. The dog beside you was wagging its tail but remained sitting in its spot. 

“I know a thing or two.” He responded and your eyes lit up. Something he decided he wanted to see again. When you started talking again he took that moment to take you in. You were in a pair of worn medium wash jeans with the ankles rolled up and a pair of mustard yellow vans adorning your feet. His eyes looked over your cream shirt where a picture of bees and a jar of honey and a honeycomb sat, with a logo on it; Honey Bee & Comb. 

“It started making a weird clunking noise and then it just started billowing smoke. I barely got it to the side of the road before it shut off. I’m on the phone with a towing company but they keep putting me on hold.” You looked utterly defeated. But Bob gave you a reassuring smile and told you to pop your hood. You did as he said and opened your door to pull the lever. He pulled the hood up, turning his face to the side as the smoke barreled out and fogged up his glasses. He propped it open and backed up a few steps where you were once again standing. 

“Looks like it’s overheated, I have a friend that owns a body shop. He could give you a tow. I can call him right now if you’d like?” Then there was that light in your eyes again. 

“Would you mind? That would really help me out. I’ve been on the phone with these guys for about thirty minutes now.” You waved the phone out in front of you dramatically. He assured you it was fine and pulled his own phone out and pulled up the contact. You hung up your phone and two rings later and the person on the other end answered. 

“Hey Shawn. Would you be able to head out here to Weston street? I have a woman here with me that’s got a broken down car.” You waited as the person responded, looking him over he was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, worn boots and a navy blue ford t-shirt with a flannel over it. You thought he was the prettiest man you’d ever seen. 

“Alright, I’ll see ya soon.” You quickly looked away as the blonde hung up so he wouldn’t catch you staring. 

“He said he’ll be here in fifteen.” He informed you as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Your shoulders sagged as you let out some of the stress. 

“Thank you so much….” You trailed off looking at him expectantly. 

“Robert.” He winced as he said it. Because he hasn’t had someone call him that in years. 

“Well thank you Robert.” His name rolled off your tongue and he almost groaned at how sweet it sounded. 

“I’m Y/N, this is Lewis.” You said gesturing to the dog who still sat in the same spot since Bob had walked up. Silence grew between you for a moment as you both stared at each other. 

“Where are you heading to?” Bob hoped you didn’t think he was a creep asking that. But you only gave him a smile and hooked a thumb over your shoulder pointing behind you. 

“Heading to the farmers market.” Bob lit up at the reply. 

“I’m heading that way as well.” You cocked your head and seemed to take him in once again. 

“Oh yea. I’ve seen you around. You’re one of the few early ones.” Bob nodded his head a blush dusting his cheeks and neck at the fact that you had noticed him. 

“Seems as though you are as well.” Though Bob hadn’t remembered seeing you before. 

“I have a booth there so it’s kind of implied that I get there early.” You didn’t seem disappointed that he hadn’t seen you. Which he was thankful for because he didn’t want to disappoint you. 

“What’s your booth?” His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to rack his brain. 

“I sell bee made products, honey, beeswax candles, chapstick and what not.” You waved your hand over your shirt and he finally made the connection. He’d seen your booth but had never gone over because his ma always sent him honey when she shipped him stuff from home. 

“Do you want to load your stuff into my truck? I can take you to the market since I’m already going there anyway.” He was really really hoping you would say yes. You fortunately told him yes and you both loaded up all your stuff into the bed of his truck. Lewis sat in the cab patiently as you loaded everything up. Shawn ended up coming shortly after and towed your car off. Reassuring you he’d have it looked at by the end of the day. In the ride to the market Bob informed you that Shawn was his front seater Michaels husband. 

After Bob helped you set up your booth even though you told him he didn’t need to worry about it. He offered to take you home as well, to which you thanked him and informed him that a friend of yours that had a booth would be taking you home. As you watched his face fall you had nervously asked him if he would like to go to dinner one night that week. He very quickly told you yes. You swapped numbers and then parted ways. He loved his truck that day because without it he probably wouldn’t have been able to help you. 

On your first date he picked you and Lewis up in his truck. Where he had jumped out and rounded the hood to open your door for you. He had given you a bag of treats for Lewis and a compliment on how gorgeous you looked. You spoke about random things including how you had rescued Lewis from a local shelter and put him through service dog training for your food allergy, until you got to the restaurant. Dinner went amazingly and before you both knew it you were in his truck heading back to your house. 

The windows were rolled down and you were humming along to the blues tape that was playing quietly. The cool autumn air was whipping through your hair but you didn’t seem to mind. Even when it got stuck in your chap-stick that coated your lips. When he came around to open the door for you again and you stepped out you asked him very sweetly if you could kiss him and he sheepishly nodded his head. Then he proceeded to lean you up against the truck and kiss you both utterly breathless. He loved the truck then because it was where he had found the feeling of home again in the form of you. 

You’d been dating a few months at this point. He had awkwardly asked you one day if you wanted to go steady with him. Your cheeks had gotten all warm and you gave him a sweet smile and a soft peck on the lips. Then you told him you’d love to go steady with him. The both of you had gotten into a routine of him coming to pick you up and take you to the farmers market on weekend mornings when he wasn’t deployed. 

This particular Sunday had been going like every other one had. You sat in your seat with Lewis between you though he was mostly laying on your lap. You’d picked out an old blues tape and had popped it into the stereo. You were petting Lewis on the head absentmindedly and occasionally sipping on your glass of sweet tea that was held in your other hand. 

You just passed by the spot you’d first met each other and a small smile formed on your lips. Your eyes turned to look at Bob to see him already glancing at you. Your eyes lit up and your smile got bigger and he felt his chest tighten and before he knew it he was spilling out three little words that made you feel like your bees at home were swarming in your stomach. 

“I love you.” He looked at you wide eyed once he realized what he had said. Was it too soon? Would you say it back? Would you leave him? Wait, why were you laughing? The sound of your laugh flowed through him and had him blinking slowly as he stopped at a stop sign and stared at you in bewilderment. 

“I love you too Bob.” You told him before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He took a deep breath and tried to hide the blush that was taking over his face by looking back at the road. But from the way you were looking at him he knew that you saw it. He loved the truck then because you loved him. 

You and Lewis came and picked him up in his truck after one of his deployments. Your car had been acting up again and Bob had insisted you use his truck while he was gone. You knew how much the truck meant to him so you made sure to take great care of it while he was away. You drove the three of you back to your house where Bob had moved into before he left for deployment. Lewis laid in his lap and he pet the dog on the head as he admired how breathtaking you looked driving his truck. 

Once you got home you and Bob reacquainted yourselves with each other before starting on dinner. You had thought you’d had all the ingredients for said dinner but had forgotten to pick up one thing from the store. Bob offered to run up the street to grab it and you told him you could make something else but he assured you that he was up for the short trip. Lewis went with him because he didn’t wanna leave his side. Plus in the safety of your home you didn’t need to worry about your food allergy. 

The sun was still shining so he flipped the visor down and was pleasantly surprised to see a Polaroid picture of you and Lewis in the bed of his truck. You had a large smile on your lips and Lewis had his head tilted to the camera in an absolutely adorable way. Bob couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. 

“I’m gonna marry her one day.” He told Lewis who responded with a soft bark and wag of his tail. Bob loved his truck then because he finally had a picture of you in the place he always wanted one. 

Bob had been super secretive and awkward for a couple of weeks now. You hadn’t thought much of it though, you trusted him more than you trusted anyone else so you figured he had a good reason for the way he was acting. When he asked if you would like to accompany him and Lewis on a secret date you had enthusiastically told him yes. So you had both driven out to a field that Bob had found one day on a hike that was accessible by vehicle as well. 

He made you sit in the cab as he and Lewis got everything set up in the bed of the truck. Why he needed Lewis’ help was lost on you but you just shrugged and took in the view around you. It was such a pretty spot and you understood why Bob loved it so much. You climbed out of the truck when Bob called for you. You gasped when you saw what he had set up. He had laid out a bunch of blankets and pillows. A variety of foods and drinks were spread around. He had lined the side rails with strings of lights. Bob asked you to sit next to Lewis so you did and then noticed he had something in his mouth. 

“What do you have there, boy?” You asked him, holding out your hand waiting for him to drop whatever it was. But what you weren’t expecting was a ring box. You turned to Bob with wide eyes only to see him down on one knee and a nervous smile on his face. 

“I have been completely head over heels for you since the first day I saw you on the side of the road. I couldn’t imagine my life without you honey. Would you go steady with me for the rest of our lives?” The flashback to him asking if you wanted to go steady had you giggling as tears streamed down your face. You couldn’t get any words out so you resorted to nodding your head frantically. 

He reached out a hand and you handed him the box. He opened it to get the ring out and you sobbed at how perfect it was. It was absolutely everything you wanted in a ring. He slipped it onto your finger and as soon as it was settled you were pulling him towards you. Your lips crashed against his and you could feel the mix of yours and his tears in the kiss but you didn’t mind.

“I love you so much Robert.” Slipped out of your lips when you finally pulled away. 

“I love you too Honey.” He whispered to you and then peppered your face in kisses. The rest of the night went by spectacularly, you had dinner and the three of you cuddled up and watched the stars for hours. Bob sat against the truck with you between his legs and Lewis between your own. Your head laid on his shoulder then your breath evened out and he loved his truck then because you said yes. 

You guys had decided to have a small wedding. It was his friends Michael and Shawn whom you had grown close to. Your friend who took you home that first day you and Bob met was ordained so they married the two of you. And of course there was Lewis. You decided for your honeymoon you’d drive up to finally meet his family. 

Which is exactly what you did. Even though you’d met them through FaceTime and phone calls you’d never met them in person. You knew how much they meant to Bob so you were buzzing with excitement the whole way to Lima, Montana. 

Everything was going smoothly. You left early Saturday morning hoping to get there by Saturday night. It was Bob's turn to nap so he was. His head was on a pillow leaning against the window on the door. Lewis had his head in his lap and was sleeping as well. Then suddenly Bob was being woken up with a gentle touch on his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open slowly and grabbed his glasses from the dash before finally focusing on you. When his eyes landed on your face he was suddenly fully awake. You had silent tears streaming down your face and looked at him fearfully. 

“What’s wrong honey?” He asked you softly, reaching out to grab your hand. When he got ahold of it he felt you shaking and that only worried him more. He looked around quickly and noticed you were pulled over on the side of a back road. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said with a sad voice. 

“What’re you sorry for?” You looked down at where your hands were intertwined and mumbled out your reply. 

“We have a flat tire and a large scratch down the side of the truck.” He furrowed his brow at you in confusion because when in the hell did that happen? 

“What happened honey?” He unbuckled his seat belt and scooted closer to you causing Lewis to switch him seats. 

“Just come and look.” You told him and opened your door climbing out and he followed you. When he got out and saw the large scratch in the green paint down the side of the truck he couldn’t stop the gasp that slipped through his lips. A sob left your own mouth and his eyes quickly found you again.

“I’m really sorry, I was following behind a truck and he had a bunch of stuff in his bed. I thought I was far enough back that if anything flew out I wouldn’t be within range of being hit. But a piece of barbed wire came out and I just couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. It popped the tire and scratched up the side.” You took a deep breath before continuing, your fingers danced along the scratched paint sadly. “I know how much you love this truck. I really love it too and I’m so so sorry that this happened.” 

“Oh honey.” He said softly, taking you in his arms and kissing your head. He breathed in the smell that was uniquely you and took a moment to gather his thoughts. 

“It’s okay honey, we’ll put the spare on and once we get to my parents we’ll go into town and get them to replace the tires. Then we’ll have Shawn fix the paint when we get home. I’m just happy that we are all safe, you handled the situation perfectly.” He ran his hand down your back as you calmed your crying. You guys then changed to the spare Bob had been thoughtful enough to pack in the bed. You got into town late and met his family who all completely adored you. 

The next day you went into town to the only mechanics there was. You paced the lobby until they came out with the keys and told you everything was taken care of and you were good to go. You practically ran out to the truck and Bob loved the truck then because you loved it just as much. 

When Bob had gone down in the training exercise with Phoenix he hadn’t planned on telling you until after the mission. Which may have sounded awful because you were his wife after all. But he just didn’t want you to worry over nothing. However what he didn’t know was that Maverick had called to inform you and that you were on your way up to see him. 

He was in the middle of a conversation with Phoenix, whom he was sharing a room with when he heard familiar tapping of claws in the hallway. Before he could process what exactly that meant Lewis came bolting into the room and jumped onto his bed. Then you came running in behind him. He stared at you with wide eyes as you ran up to him and cupped his face looking him over for injury. 

“Honey, what’re you doing here?” He blinked at you slowly as he started to pet Lewis’ head. 

“Someone named Maverick called, he told me your plane had gone down during an exercise today. I was worried and just needed to see you. I also figured you wouldn’t tell me until you got back home and I couldn’t handle waiting. I need to see with my own eyes that you were alright.” It was a light scolding but he still blushed nonetheless. Then you gave him a soft kiss and stood back up. 

“How’s Michael, Shawn and the babies?” You knew he was changing the subject to avoid you scolding him anymore. But you let him do it anyway. Plus talking about his previous front seater and his new family members would cheer you both up. When Michael’s contract came back up he had decided not to reenlist because he and his husband Shawn were in the process of adopting and it would be an easier transition if Michael was a stay at home dad. 

“They are doing amazing. Michael is slowly adjusting to no longer being in the service, Shawn is glad to have him home. The triplets have been a handful since they picked them up from the hospital. They are all absolutely adorable, especially Robert.” Your smile was bright as you told him a bit more about the family. They had named one of two boys after him.  Then when you stopped talking you finally turned to the other person in the room. She looked terrified when your eyes met her own. 

“You’re Phoenix right? His front seater for this mission?” She glanced between you and Bob and Bob gave her a small nod. 

“Uhm yes. I-I’m really sor-.” But before she could finish her guilt ridden apology you were right next to her bed. 

“Are you okay? Do you need me to call anyone for you?” She choked on air at the way you were now dotting on her. She looked at Bob and he had a wide smile on his face and adoration in his eyes. 

“I’m okay. I called my fiancé already, so she knows I’m okay.” Bob looked sheepish as you both turned to glare at him when she said that. 

“Can I hug you?” You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, you just really felt the need to comfort her.  

“Uh yes.” She stuttered out and then she was wrapped up in your arms. She hadn’t realized she really needed a hug until then. You held her until she let go. 

“Thank you for keeping my husband safe.” You told her after pulling away. As Bob looked at you he loved his truck because it brought him, you. 

A couple of weeks after the mission the dagger Squad were all given the option of moving to Fightertown permanently. They would be their own squad indefinitely. Bob had asked you immediately what your thoughts were. He wasn’t sure you’d go for it since your life was in Lemoore. But you assured him you’d love to move there if he would. Because he didn’t have a front seater in Lemoore. Plus from what he had told you the rest of the Dagger Squad worked beautifully together once they got over bad blood. 

So you guys took a couple weeks to pack up then you were heading off to Fightertown. You had your bees in the bed of the truck, a whole bunch of things in the U-Haul hitched to the truck. All the bigger items had been picked up by the navy movers. You’d decided to sell your junk ass car to Shawn who was gonna fix it up and sell it at his shop. You’d also promised to come back and visit them often, as well as your friends and family that lived there. Selling your house in Lemoore and buying a house with plenty of land in Fightertown had been surprisingly easy. 

“Lewis is gonna have quite the time getting to know everyone and getting allocated to a new home. You said that Mav’s girlfriend has a dog right?” The only part of this you were nervous about was Lewis. Since you’d had him you’d only ever lived in one place. He had made friends at your local dog park as well as other dogs that had been in your service dog training courses. 

“Yea, his name is Theo. I think they’ll get along great. Plus I think Lewis will love Paybacks kids. We could also go to one of the shelters in town and find him a friend.” Bob had been doing a search for another dog already but he just hadn’t told you. He’d even found a dog that you guys could go and pick up in a week. She was a pitbull lab mix that had been surrendered by her previous owners because they were moving and claimed they couldn’t take her with them. Funnily enough her name was Bee, which Bob thought you would absolutely adore. 

You started to excitedly rant about how amazing it would be to get another dog. Then about how excited you were to meet everyone. Bob glanced at you and saw the way the sun was shining through the window on your face. You looked like a dream and Bob couldn’t help but love that his truck was taking you both to a future that held so many possibilities for the both of you. 

Bob didn’t really understand what had gotten into you but you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off him. You’d had dinner with Phoenix and her fiancé which had become a regular occurrence. Phoenix and her fiancé had taken extreme care in the food they prepared so you hadn’t worried about bringing Lewis and Bee. Your eyes however hadn’t left his form all night. Every time he’d glance at you he’d find your eyes already glued to him. When you were saying goodbye to the duo you’d made it quick and were dragging Bob out of their house.  

Now here you were with a hand down his pants slowly stroking his cock and sucking bruises into the skin of his neck. He was concentrating very hard on keeping control of the truck on the road. You weren’t very far from your house which he was grateful for. He let out a low moan as you ran your thumb along the tip of his cock and gathered the precum that was leaking from it. 

“Honey.” He muttered out, you nipped at his neck gently before pulling away and looking at him with lust filled eyes. He groaned as he took in the sight of your swollen lips. 

“We’re almost home Bob, just pay attention to the road.” So that’s what he did: he kept both hands on the steering wheel and both eyes on the road as you resumed your assault on his neck. Your hand continued to slowly pump his cock, your thumb brushing the tip every so often. A low moan would leave his lips every time. 

When he turned onto the long gravel driveway lined by trees that lead back to your house your hand slipped out of his pants, you unbuckled your seat belt and positioned yourself so you were kneeling on the seat. You worked quickly to unzip his pants and pull his boxers down enough to slip his cock free. Your hand then was replaced by your lips and he couldn’t help himself as one of his hands left the steering wheel and found its way into your hair. He helped guide you up and down his length. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat before pulling up and going back down. 

The truck came to a stop as he rolled up to the front of the house and his hand left your hair to shift it into park. He fumbled to snatch the keys out and slip them into his pocket. His head tipped back as your tongue swirled around his tip. He muttered your name quietly, not really sure what he was asking for. He felt himself getting close but he wasn’t ready for this to be over just yet so he gently guided your mouth away from his cock. When you were sitting up his lips met your own in a rushed pace, he was eager to taste your lips and moaned at the taste of him on your tongue as you slipped it passed his lips. 

“Bob, please.” The request was a whisper on your lips as you pulled away. He knew what you were asking for without you needing to say anything. 

“Take off your pants honey.” He slipped his cock back into his underwear but kept his pants unzipped. He fumbled while opening his door before stumbling out and watching with hooded eyes as you maneuvered out of your shoes and pants and threw them on the floor of the truck. 

He took a second to take in how pretty you looked, your hair a mess, lips swollen, a wet patch forming on your underwear from how aroused you were. The look of complete lust on your face had his control slipping. He grabbed both of your ankles and yanked your body toward him. Your ass was on the edge of the seat.  His hands found your panties and slipped them down your legs and tucked them into the pocket of his jeans. You were practically vibrating in anticipation as you waited for him to make a move. 

Right as you opened your mouth to beg for his touch he was on you. His tongue slipped between your folds, one of your hands shot for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as a loud moan left your mouth. He was bent over at the hips and his knees were slightly bent but he didn’t care that he’d probably wake up a bit sore from the awkward angle. All he cared about was that you tasted sweeter than the slice of cheesecake you’d shared for dessert. Really you tasted better than anything he could ever imagine. So he told you so, pulling his mouth away he replaced his tongue with his fingers, slipping them in and out of you languidly. 

“Fuck honey, you taste sweeter than anything I’ve ever had before.” He sucked a bruise into your thigh leaving a feather light kiss over it. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever find anything sweeter than you. Love you so much. ” He sucked a bruise into the inside of your other thigh, running his tongue over the skin to soothe it. You weren’t sure if the cry of his name leaving your lips was because of the words he was whispering or because of the way his mouth found its way back to your cunt. His lips found your clit and sucked on it delicately. His fingers curled and found that spot in you that had you letting out a mumbled string of curses. 

“Bobby, feels so good.” You whined as his tongue flicked your clit. “So close, I-I-I’m so close.” The words were barely making any sense but you hoped he understood. Your fingers that were still in his hair gripped tighter and with one more curl of his fingers you hit your climax and felt like you were flying, your hips had a mind of their own as they bucked against his face. Your legs tightened around his head and he took his time cleaning up every drop of cum you’d given him. 

When your legs finally relaxed, your hand leaving his head he pulled away and gave you a soft smile. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed soothing circles on your thighs with his thumbs and was about to suggest going inside before you whined a request at him. 

“Need you inside me.” You sounded utterly spent but who was he to deny you what you wanted. So he pulled his aching cock out of his boxers, situated himself at your entrance and as your legs wrapped around him he sunk into you. You both let out equally blissed moans as you settled into the feeling of euphoria. 

“You feel so fucking tight honey.” His country drawl was thick as he groaned out the words. His hair was sticking up all over the place and his glasses were crooked, his lips and chin were still wet with your arousal and suddenly you couldn’t stand being so far from him so you quickly sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He wrapped his own around your thighs and pulled you out of the truck. You were thankful you’d kept your shirt on as he leaned you against the side of the truck all while staying seated inside you.  

“Gonna move now.” He whispered to you before burying his face in your neck. He pulled himself almost all the way out and then thrust back in. It didn’t take him long to find a steady rhythm that felt good for the both of you. Your clit was getting a delightful friction everytime he moved and you were squeezing around him in a way that made him feel a little dizzy. 

“Bob, Bob.” His name fell from your lips like a prayer and the glasses wearing aviator almost fell to his knees as you slipped a hand into his hair and brought his lips to your own. They meshed together in a familiar dance, soft and practiced, yet still taking his breath away like the first time you’d kissed. His hands were squeezing your thighs as your tongues met each other and he swallowed the moan you let out as his thrusts began to stutter. 

His lungs needed to fill back up with air so he pulled away from your lips, nipping the bottom one with his teeth as he went. A whine left you at the loss of him. But he soothed you with sweet nothings as he got closer and closer to his climax. His forehead rested against yours. 

“Honey. I’m gonna, oh fuck, I’m gonna.” He could barely get the words out, but he wanted you to cum first. He was already so close from the edging you’d given him on the way home. 

“I’m close bob, m’gonna cum. Wanna feel you cum.” Your words were breathy and sounded like a plea. Your walls squeezed around him and he couldn’t stop it as his orgasm ripped through him. Your own following soon after. The both of you stood wrapped in each other's arms for a few moments, soaking in the feeling of being with one another.

The barking of your dogs from inside had you finally separating. Bob hissed slightly as he pulled out of you. He reached inside the truck and grabbed your pants and shoes before closing the door of the truck and walking you up to the porch. He set you down and let you slip your pants back on and take your shoes. Then you slipped the keys out of his pocket and opened the door. He turned and looked back, one thought in his mind as he shut the door behind him, he really loved that truck.

A/N: Thank you so so so so so much for being so patient while I got this done. I had such an amazing time writing this! Might've been just what I needed to get back into the groove of writing!

Taglist: @wkndwlff @sylviebell @kmc1989 @teacupsandtopgun @eternallyvenus @loving-and-dreaming

#m's taste of twenty-five event #m's party #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Phoenix: When's the last time you slept?

Rooster: Uh... a few days ago, I think.

Phoenix: A few- how many?!

Rooster: Uh... *starts counting on his fingers* I need more fingers...

Phoenix: What you need is sleep!

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

😂😂😂

Phoenix: Is that why you’re always cleaning your glasses? So you won’t have to see what we’re doing? Bob: Tell no one.

#top gun maverick #top gun incorrect quotes #original: buffy the vampire slayer #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #top gun

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy

Working on a two parter Bob series for this week and next week, this is a behemoth y’all, both chapters have already passed 2,000 words 😬

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert floyd #robert bob floyd

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Hello everybody and welcome to the Top Gun Fake Dating Summer Secret Santa Fic Exchange!

We are thrilled to announce this and hope you’re all as excited as we are to get this in the air. 

The theme for this exchange is fake dating! All participants will fill out the sign up form with three prompts or ideas relating to this theme with corresponding characters they’d like to see in each scenario. Each participant will be matched with another participant, and must write a fic with a minimum word count of 1,000 words. The fic must highlight at least one of the fake dating prompts they’ve received and must center around at least one character from the Top Gun universe.

As this is a fic exchange formatted like a secret santa, it’s important to keep who you’re writing for a secret! We want everyone to be surprised when they receive their gift, so it’s best to keep it under wraps. If you would like to use a beta, we’d recommend reaching out to someone who isn’t involved within the fic exchange. 

Sign ups for the exchange will begin April 20th and close April 27th, the prompts will be distributed April 28th. The deadline to finish your fic is July 4th. Due to the nature of the fest it’s important to adhere to this deadline, however if you require an extension please email the mod team at [email protected] (please include "TG Fic Exchange Extension/Change Request" in the subject line if possible). 

sign ups are open here

We can’t wait to write with you! Jag, Cori, Cy, Shan, Red, Asia See also: FAQ | Rules

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Rules

Event Deadline: Sign-ups begin April 20, 2024, and close April 27, 2024. Prompt assignment matching will be distributed on April 28, 2024. The deadline to finish your fics is July 4, 2024! The collection will be revealed on July 5.

Rules:

minimum word count: 1k

maximum word count: none

the fic needs to be complete!

extensions/changes can be requested at [email protected] (please include "TG Fic Exchange Extension/Change Request" in subject line if possible)

fics must include the "fake dating" premise, at least one of the prompts, and involve one or more Top Gun characters (either ‘86 or Maverick era)

keep it a secret who you are writing for! you should not know who is writing for you, either :D

follow us on tumblr/twitter (@tg2024exchange)

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

I’ve been attacked!!! 🥴

#writblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writers on ao3 #writerscommunity #writing #procrastination #writer #writers #fanfiction

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

Such an odd movie but gosh he was so pretty in it! Beautiful video edit!

but i forget the melody

#lewis pullman #water rises #vids