#bob fanfiction

[t-nd-rfoot]

SUNFLOWER aka The Secret Valentine

There's something special about the happiness that comes from flowers.

Pairing Bob Floyd x female!aviator!OC/reader (callsign: Honey, but he calls you Bee)

Theme fluff

Warnings Valentine's clichés (ish); love triangle (ish); mentions of drinking; Hangman does something OOC (but roll with it please); edited a million times but I'm sure there's still a typo or two

Word Count 5.9k

Note Oh my goodness. This was....a headspinner to write, to say the least. First of all, so many thanks to @avaleineandafryingpan for requesting this and being so patient and kind!!! This was supposed to be a quick Valentine's drabble and lol. Look at the word count. And I'm about a week late from Valentine's Day. Secondly, a quick thanks to bestie @hangmanbrainrot for giving me advice on writing OCs! I'm not sure if Honey ended up being an OC since I wrote it in reader's POV but hey, I'm learning 😅 anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this!

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It started with a sunflower.

One lonely sunflower sitting on the railing of your porch, its bright and yellow petals made it hard to miss on your out of your house on your way to the hangar.

How did this get here? you wondered aloud as you picked it up.

You looked up and down the street, hoping to see its owner, but it was still too early for anyone to be up. A few officers here and there were on their way to work just like you, but there was no other sunflower in sight. None on their porches, none on the ends of their walkways, none in their hands.

Shrugging it off, you took it as a sign for a good day. You figured it might make you late if you looked for a vase to put it in, so you placed it on the passenger seat of your car along with your work things and headed off.

“Happy love day, ladies!”

Hangman’s voice boomed as you, Phoenix, and Halo walked in the tactical auditorium. The guys were all scattered around the room and talked in groups, seeing as Maverick was running late to brief all of you on today’s drills.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’s and ‘thank you’s echoed around as all of you greeted each other.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bee,” Bob greeted as he walked up to you. You smiled as his special callsign—he refused to call you by your real callsign, Honey—rolled off his tongue, always teasing him about the adorable blush he sported whenever he said it.

“Thank you, Bobby, and Happy Valentine’s Day to you!”

He looked at you, a small grin forming on his face, though he never said a word.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you laughed.

He shrugged. “Nothing. You just seem extra happy today,” he pointed out.

Smiling even wider at the memory of this morning, you replied, “Well, it’s a happy day today, I guess. I found a sunflower on my porch this morning.”

“You mean you actually found it? Or do you mean ‘you found one in a flower shop and bought it for yourself’ kind of ‘found it’?” he teased.

You shouldered him playfully as he apologized. “I found it-found it. I have no idea how it got there or who placed it there, but I’m not going to question it. I got a free flower this morning and that’s all that matters,” you laughed.

Bob was one of your closest friends in and out of the Navy, graduating from the same TOPGUN class and working in Lemoore together before he got reassigned to North Island for the uranium plant mission. No matter where the two of you ended up, though, you somehow always found your way to each other as it wasn’t long till you were called back to TOPGUN as well. Though you missed being in the plane with him, the two of you were just happy to be working together again. Things between you picked up right where they left off, though the two of you had gotten closer—always sitting together at The Hard Deck or in the ready room, having lunches with Phoenix, and even going on morning jogs together down the beach. He even ditched Mickey as a teammate at pool, always calling first dibs to join you instead.

You turned to your seat when you saw that it had been decorated, and you noticed that Phoenix’s and Halo’s were as well. They were laughing with the others over the appropriately hand-drawn cards that were placed on the seats, along with a few small cut-out hearts. Clouds and wings were drawn around Halo’s cursive card, and Phoenix’s was drawn with fiery lettering.

The most detailed one, however, was yours—it was a full scene with a garden with flowers and bees in the background, and honey dripping down the block letters.

“Oh my gosh,” you cried out, “this is adorable!”

“You’ll never guess who made them,” Bob whispered.

Your eyes scanned the room and pointed to all your suspects. “Fritz? Coyote? Fanboy?” and all were denied with the shake of his head. Just as you let out a sigh of defeat, Bob pointed to the blond aviator who was talking to Phoenix.

“Hangman?!”

Bob nodded as you continued staring at Hangman. “He was one of the first ones here,” he informed you, “Just barged in with the cards and markers told us to help set it up.”

Overhearing your conversation, Harvard chimed in, “it felt like a pre-school in the locker room, or some weird Santa’s Valentine’s workshop.”

“First of all,” Hangman walked up to you, “my niece actually deserves fifty percent of the credit for pretty much bossing me around to do something nice for the ‘pretty ladies who always give her chocolate,’” he quoted as he slung his arm around you, “and naturally, I get forty-five percent for listening to her. The guys can split the other five for helping.”

Just the image of Hangman sitting down and cutting out paper hearts with his eight-year old niece had you giggling. “Aww, who knew Bagman had such a soft spot?” you pinched his cheek.

Hangman flashed his million dollar smile at you, “Honey, you know I always have a soft spot for pretty ladies.” He threw a quick wink at you before walking back to Phoenix and Fritz.

Could he have left the sunflower? you thought. This definitely was not the first time Hangman’s flirted with you. Knowing him, you always thought it was just light banter, but now, you were second guessing.

“Actually, his original plan was to decorate your lockers, but you can probably see how that might look like a problem,” Bob told you once Hangman was out of earshot.

“Probably,” you hummed sarcastically.

He was about to say something else when Maverick burst through the auditorium doors and rushed to the front of the room. You and the rest of the squad rushed to your seats before Maverick allowed you all to sit.

“Morning, guys. Sorry, I’m late. Had some…motorcycle problems.”

Rooster cleared his throat. He gestured tiny circles at the side of his own neck. The older pilot looked confused until the young Bradshaw mouthed ‘Penny,’ and his eyes shot wide before he cleared his throat and tugged up the collars of his flight suit.

“Let’s get to work!”

The squad rushed out of the locker rooms as soon as they could so they could get ready for their dates. Yale had just finished talking about his plans with his date when the others started talking about their plans.

“How about you, Honey? Got a big date for tonight?” Coyote asked as all of you walked out the building.

“Mhm, I got McDreamy and McSteamy waiting for me at home right now,” you joked.

Halo laughed from beside you. “Now that’s a threesome I can get behind,” she joked.

“Ouch, a Grey’s Anatomy marathon on Valentine’s Day?” He whistled lowly.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, okay?” you defended yourself, “At least there’s a Valentine’s Day episode! And besides, I didn’t hear you say anything about a ‘hot date’.”

He held his hand, feigning offense. “You wound me, Honey. And I just so happen to have one waiting for me as we speak!” And he rushed off to his car.

“You know, the more you try to hide her from us, the more we think she’s not even real!” Payback called out. Coyote didn’t even look back at the squad as he flipped the bird and drove off.

“Coyote has a girlfriend?” you asked.

Rooster snickered, “an imaginary one.”

“He says he met someone months ago, but he’s not giving us anything else,” Fanboy added, “no name, no story, nothing. Just that every other week or so, he meets up with her.”

“Or so he says,” his best friend quipped. “The fact that even I don’t know about her is something, and he usually never shuts up about someone he’s interested in.”

The group decided then to go their separate ways to get their Valentine’s Day started, but Bob walked all the way with you to your car.

“So, you really have no date for tonight?” he asked.

You shook your head in reply as you loaded your things in the backseat of your car. “It’s not that I don’t like Valentine’s,” you suddenly found your self ranting, “it’s just that no one’s asked me this year, and I’m fine with that. I’m not gonna sit around and wallow—well, I’m going to sit around and have my Grey’s marathon, yeah—but I’m not going to wallow! And it’s not like it’s the end of the world that nobody’s asked me to be their Valentine…right?”

You looked up at Bob to find his big blue eyes staring back at you, clearly at a loss for words from your little spout.

“Oh my gosh, I sound so pathetic,” you muttered. “Please, please forget I said anything, I—”

Bob burst into laughter and hugged you tight to try and calm you down.

“This isn’t funny, Bobby!” you said, though you couldn’t hold back your own laughter.

Looking up at him once again, you found his blue eyes already on you, though there was more sincerity in his gaze this time. And something else, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. You and Bob have both looked at and hugged each other a million times before, but the way he looked at and hugged you now felt different. Suddenly, you were both aware of the position you were in and pulled back. He ran his finger through his hair nervously while you crossed your arms, unconsciously missing the warmth of his embrace.

You stole glances at him as you cleared your throat. “So, um…how about you? Do you have a date tonight?”

It took a few seconds for him to answer. “Yeah,” he mumbled, suddenly finding the stray gravel on the pavement more interesting than you.

A small ‘oh,’ escaping your lips, you put on a poker face. “Wow, um, since when?” you asked.

“Oh, um, it’s been…awhile, I guess.” he trailed off.

Relationships weren’t a strange topic for either of you, but looking back, you were more open about your love life than he was. Maybe he met someone before you arrived. Maybe he didn’t want to let anyone know, especially if he thought the others were going to tease him about it. Maybe he didn’t say anything because you never asked…until now. Knowing Bob, he never dated casually, so this must have been serious. But he never kept things from you. Not in his emails, not in his texts, and certainly not in person. But you weren’t insulted, just confused, if you could ever admit.

“Well, whoever she is, she’s a lucky girl,” you assured, “I’m really happy for you, Bobby!”

You climbed into your car before your emotions started to show, but just before you stepped on the gas, Bob knocked on your window and you let it roll down.

“You’re not pathetic, Bee. In fact, you’re far from it, not even close to it. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Your lips turned up graciously at your best friend’s words of encouragement.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“And if you ever start to feel that way again, just think about your sunflower,” he gestured to the plant in your passenger seat.

“It’s wilting,” you pointed out disappointedly.

“So?” he shrugged, “it’s still pretty. It’s still a sunflower.”

With a small grin, he pushed himself off your car to let you get home and waved goodbye.

You were about to pull up to your driveway a few minutes later when a delivery driver showed up and asked for your name.

“Yeah, that’s me?” you said before they handed you a bag. “Um, I don’t remember ordering anything…”

“Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of,” they informed you with a kind smile.

“By who, if I can ask?”

They shook their head, “Sorry, I was given specific instructions to not say anything. Though from what’s in the box, I’d say you have a secret admirer!”

After they left, you walked in your kitchen to open the bag. Inside was a stark white box with neon squiggles.

“Sugarlust,” you read aloud the sticker that sealed it. The bakery Coyote always goes to, you recognized.

A small card with a printed message was also stuck to the box ‘I’m no TV surgeon but I hope you find these just as good!’ No name.

Sure enough, it was a box of the salted caramel cookies you loved from the last time he bought a box for everyone. A quick flashback of Coyote’s proud smile popped in your head, of when you couldn’t stop raving about it and his promise to buy more next time.

You picked up the sunflower from the table and twirled it in your hand. The hours it lay in the heat showed in the paling yellow petals, and though you had no idea how to care for it, you placed it in a watered vase anyway.

Maybe it was Coyote, you thought. It certainly checked: he had your address, he knew you liked sunflowers, and he remembered the cookies you loved. But he said he’s on a date…unless he was pretending? The other guys definitely thought he was.

Refusing to confuse yourself any longer, you gave one last glance at the sunflower, took a bite from your cookie, and hoped that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan could distract you…for now.

“I'm in love with Teddy. I love her.”

“You're like Lexie with the inappropriate feelings for inappropriate people.”

“What can I say? My heart lives in my scalpel.”

The Seattle Grace Mercy West surgeons were trying to play baseball when your phone chimed. Phoenix and Halo were currently messaging the squad group chat.

Bassett Hound 🐾💗 date was a bust. reservation got screwed and they refuse to go anywhere else told them i refuse to waste this outfit hard deck anybody?

Pixie Nix 🧚✨ aw hales 😞 sorry to hear that if it helps, my date spoke more words to the waiter than to me don’t have to ask me twice

Bassett Hound 🐾 hbu @Mamma Mia 🍯🍯 ? we’ll be your valentines ❤️

Glancing between the half-eaten box of cookies and the Grey’s Anatomy theme running on your screen for the fourth time in a row, you decided that maybe it isn’t too late to salvage the holiday.

You showed up feeling a bit more refreshed from earlier. You opted to dress up just the slightest bit more than usual since you figured Phoenix and Halo would be too, coming from their dates.

The bar wasn’t crowded—a lot of the regulars you recognized were probably out on dates—but it looked like a haven for lonely hearts, single people dotting the bar or nursing their drinks at their small tables. You spotted some introducing themselves to others, and one lucky couple just escaped through the side door. The pool table, however, was as lively as ever with some of its usual suspects. Halo and Phoenix had already started a game, but you were surprised to see a few of the others there as well—Rooster and his girlfriend, Omaha and his wife, and Bob—who all cheered as you approached the table.

“Come here often?” Phoenix fake flirted.

“Only when I’m summoned with magic,” you came back and hugged her. “What brings the rest of you here?”

“We didn’t feel like going home just yet, then I saw Halo’s text in the group chat and she wanted to say hi,” Omaha explained and gestured to his wife as you went around greeting the others. “Rooster’s car broke down about a half mile up the road.”

“Excuse you, the Bronco doesn’t break,” Rooster interrupted, “It just…swerved off the road a little. But it’s fine. Just needed to stretch our legs a little.” His girlfriend giggled silently as he pulled her close to his torso and started whispering in her ear.

You took your usual seat on the stool next to Bob’s. “So I’m guessing Coyote’s date was real? Since he’s not here, I mean.”

“Looks like it,” he agreed as he sipped on his water. Noticing your lack of banter, he studied the pensive look on your face. “Why’d you ask?”

Your train of thought broke as he spoke. “What? Oh, um, it’s nothing,” you said nervously, “Forget I asked.”

“If you’re thinking about it this hard, it’s probably not nothing,” he egged on. “What is it?”

You could never say no to Bob. He was your best friend and you trusted him. Even though you were a little hurt that he kept his girlfriend a secret from you, you just couldn’t bring yourself to make it even. “Okay, so you know how I found a sunflower this morning?” you said in a low voice.

He nodded silently, letting you continue without being interrupted.

“I didn’t want to think anything of it at first. I just figured that someone—I don’t know, ‘neighborly person’ in a Valentine’s-y mood, I guess—left flowers up and down the street. But no one else had one so I just brushed it off. But then there was Hangman this morning with the cards and the flirting, and I thought it felt different. But it’s Hangman. You can never really tell with him, right? So I brushed that off. Then when I got home, get this: I get a delivery of cookies from Sugarlust. Coyote’s bakery. And it wasn’t just any cookie, it was the salted caramel cookies that he brought to that one dinner, the ones that I loved. What really did it for me, though, was the card. Something about him not being McDreamy but he hopes I love the cookies just as much. He was the one who commented about my Grey’s Anatomy marathon. And now I’m thinking if he was the one who gave me the flower, and…I don’t know,” you sighed, “I guess I was just hoping to see him here tonight to ask if it was him.”

And like this morning, he was dumbstruck again at your rant. You grew conscious of yourself at his reaction so you changed the subject.

“But enough about me, though. How about you? Where’s your date?” you asked as normally as you could.

Halo stood up after her turn. “Bob had a date?”

All eyes landed on the spectacled wizzo in his usual corner. “Oh. Right. My date.”

“Since when? And how come I don’t know about her?!” Phoenix asked, echoing your conversation and thoughts from earlier.

“Uh, awhile,” he said again, though he sounded more nervous this time, “but it’s okay, um, I don’t think it’s gonna work out…”

Your heart dropped after seeing how dejected Bob looked. “I’m so sorry, Bobby.” You put an arm around him, and he returned your small smile with one of his own.

Phoenix pushed herself off the pool table and handed him her cue stick. “Welcome to the club, Bob.”

Customers came and went in the two hours you have been there, but the eight of you had stayed. Rooster took over the piano, crooning blues covers with Halo, while his girlfriend and Omaha’s wife were talking with Phoenix. You were back on your stool after winning the last round of pool against Omaha, who was now playing darts against Bob.

The lack of a crowd allowed for cool night air to linger inside, that you had borrowed Bob’s jacket to keep you warm.

“What the fuck, bro?!” Omaha groaned in disbelief after Bob hit his fifth bullseye of the night.

“Target locked, and direct hit,” Bob retorted while he picked off his darts from the board.

Omaha took his place as he got ready for another game. “Best of nine,” he challenged and threw his darts immediately.

“Roos baby, I love you, but you’re kinda killing the mood here,” his girlfriend laughed from across the room while he and Halo were in the middle of singing November Rain by Guns N’ Roses. And without missing a beat, he started playing Little Richard’s Tutti Frutti. The lively melody brought the empty bar to life and the four girls started to dance with each other.

Halo called out to you, “Honey! Join us!”

“In a minute, Hales! I’m on dart watch from Omaha,” you pointed your thumb to the brunette who had just lost another game to Bob. He was practicing his aim when Bob took his seat beside you.

“Let me know when you’re done warming up, Vikander,” he taunted, his competitive side coming out now that he was more relaxed.

“Gonna make you eat your words, Floyd,” Omaha came back.

You and Bob entered your little world again from your seats. You watched as he chugged his water, his glasses slipping from the bridge of his nose.

“How’re you holding up there, Bobby?” you asked.

He let out an exhausted laugh. “You’d think darts wasn’t exhausting, but I think Omaha might as well have me running a marathon if he’s making me play this much.

“We’re aviators,” you snorted, “everything’s a competition.”

“I woke up the beast,” he sighed.

Taking a sip of your own water, you repeated his sentiments back, “You woke up the beast.”

A few beats passed in comfortable silence when he turned to you. “How about you? You don’t wanna join the others?”

“You might be surprised at how much five straight games of pool can do to your legs and back.”

He chuckled, “Well, you better hope you don’t get any push-ups tomorrow.”

It wasn’t even midnight yet when the bar was nearly empty. The jukebox played in the background seeing as Rooster and Omaha joined in on the dancing on the other side of the bar, but you and Bob remained in your seats. Usually, the two of you would be conversing non-stop—talking about the latest podcast he was listening to or your vivid dream from the night before, people watching the tourists, betting on who fellow aviator was going to do what predictable act for the night, or singing along to the music.

But you could sense some slight tension between you two tonight, thinking it might have been from the whole Valentine’s date conversation from earlier. Bob never brought it up afterwards so you didn’t think anything of it too, but now that the two of you were alone, you could see the somber expression return to his face as he stared at the floorboards.

You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder closest to you. “It’s gonna be okay, Bobby,” you said.

He looked up to your encouraging smile, and his empty hand crossed his body, his fingers brushing yours in a silent ‘thank you’.

“Who was she? If I can ask,” you said, “but you don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to, I don’t wanna pressure you—”

“It’s alright, Bee,” he said softly. He took a deep breath as he turned his eyes back to the floor. “She’s just someone I liked for awhile now.”

“How’d you meet?”

“The usual, you know. Work,” he shrugged.

“So she’s a local?” you inquired.

“Nah, she moved here from upstate.”

After placing his now empty water cup on the ledge behind him, he sat up straighter in his seat. “Guess that makes two of us now.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion when he let out a low laugh. “Valentines-less,” he referred to your little blather from this afternoon.

You let out your own laugh as you jogged up the memory. “We can be pathetic together,” you jested. “Well, not entirely true, I guess. Halo and Phoenix decided to be my Valentine’s to get me to come here, but I think they’ve got each other covered.”

Bob looked back to see what you were talking about, to find Halo and Phoenix drunkenly belting out Love is a Battlefield a cappella with Rooster’s girlfriend while the aviator just watched their performance. The two of caught a glimpse of Omaha and his wife waving at the two of you just before they exited.

“Besides, it doesn’t seem fair that I have two Valentine’s and you have none,” you continued.

“So what are you suggesting? You give me one of your Valentine’s?” he played along.

You looked up, pretending to think, “Hm, I don’t know if they’d appreciate being someone else’s Valentine without them knowing, so what do you say, Bobby? Will you be my Valentine?” you proposed playfully, even looking up at him through your lashes for added effect.

He smiled tightly. “I don’t think you’re gonna give me a choice, anyway,” he mumbled playfully and you elbowed him, “but sure, Bee. I’ll be your Valentine.” You spotted just the slightest bit of a blush creeping up his neck.

Finally regaining some strength in your legs, you were ready to go home. “Well, I hate to cut our date short, my Valentine, but I think I need to call it a night,” you said, “I hate that you reminded me about the push-ups.”

Bob got up with you. “No worries, Valentine. And trust me, I think the three of them might have it worse than you tomorrow,” he said about your co-workers still in the middle of their impromptu karaoke.

You dug out your phone, wallet, and keys that you kept in his jacket pocket when something else fell out. You picked up a small velvet box tied with a white satin ribbon. What caught your eye was the tag—instead of a name written on it, there was a doodle of a tiny, squiggly, buzzing bee.

Like how the bees looked on Hangman’s card.

You looked up already finding Bob staring at you nervously. His mouth had been drawn in a thin line and the tension that you felt earlier increased tenfold.

Though he never outright said the gift was for you, he watched as you tested him, slowly untying the ribbon. Even as you pried the cover off the box, he never stopped you.

“Bob…?” you whispered in disbelief as you stared at the gift. It was a golden bracelet—two delicately thin chains connected by a shining sunflower charm.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Phoenix called out from the piano.

Neither of you spoke as you continued to stare at him. Seeing as you didn’t respond, Bob replied for the two of you. “Yeah, we’re all good.”

“We’re gonna get going, if it’s okay,” she notified you. All of them had their things gathered, and the bartender on shift was already wiping down the counters.

The two of you waved your goodbyes at them as they headed out. Halo blew flying kisses in your direction as the door shut.

“Take care!”

“Happy Valentine’s!”

“See you tomorrow!”

And then there were two.

Still in shock, you held the box as securely as you could while your mind was still reeling. Bob? The sunflower this morning. The sunflower on the bracelet. The bee on the card. This has to be a coincidence, right? Maybe this was meant for his date? Maybe he’s holding on to it for someone? Maybe he’s—

“Can we talk about this?” You didn’t even realize you had asked it out loud until Bob turned back to you. His eyes grew big, the same way they always did when he started to panic during a drill or a mission.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He led you out to the parking lot where it was still a bit bright from the street lights. The cool breeze bit at your skin when you remembered you were still wearing Bob’s jacket. You had barely taken it off when Bob tugged it securely back on your shoulders.

“It’s freezing,” you insisted, but Bob just shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

It was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. Your thumb ran over the bracelet still in its box and the thoughts you had previously came flooding back.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you mumbled.

Bob wiped his face with his hands. “I don’t think there’s any other way of saying it except that it was me. I never had a date, and I was the one who left the sunflower at your door.”

Happiness. Relief. Frustration. Love. You could have been feeling all of those things right now, but no. You were just as confused as ever. “So when I was talking about all those other things, about Hangman and Coyote…”

“That was me too.”

The two of you took a seat on the bottom step of the bar’s front deck. “Hangman and the other guys were cutting out the paper hearts when he told me to bring out the cards from his bag. I didn’t have anything to do, so I just started drawing the garden on your card.”

You toyed with the hand-drawn bee on the card still hanging from the ribbon. “I guess I should’ve known from the card that it was you,” you said, mostly to yourself but loud enough for him to hear. “You’re the only one who calls me ‘Bee.’ Who was the guy from TOPGUN again? The one that you nearly decked—” you smiled trying to stir the memory.

“—But I didn’t—and it was that asshole, Shadow,” he groaned. “Ugh, I’m never gonna forget the way he called you that day.”

“But I still don’t get why you don’t call me ‘Honey.’ Everybody else does. I don’t mind it, you know.”

“I know, I know,” he nodded. “But if I’m one less person to remind you of that day, then I’ll call you ‘Bee’ until you truly forget about it.”

You couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your heart at his confession. You actually haven’t remembered that incident until now, but it was sweet that Bob always tried to make you feel better about it, even if you didn’t realize it.

“That’s real sweet of you, Bobby,” you said warmly. “But speaking of sweets…”

Bob winced jokingly, “Ah, thought I was in the clear.” He had a distant look in his eyes as he recalled, “I still remember the look on your face when you tried the cookies. The two of us alone wiped out half the box before dinner even started. You even begged Coyote to go back for another box after Fanboy ate the last one.” The grin on his face only grew bigger the more he looked back at the memory.

You barely even notice yours did too.

It all made sense now. Bob had been a constant presence in your life ever since the two of you met, even moreso now that you were together back where your friendship started. How you even thought of Hangman or Coyote before you suspected him was beyond you.

There was still one question you needed answered, and it had you on the edge of exasperation. Your voice was small as you spoke, “We were with each other the whole day, Bob. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Just as frustrated as you were, he let out a big breath. “I don’t know. I’m a coward, I guess. I was right there on the sidewalk outside your place, fully prepared to ask you out. Even had a whole speech prepared and everything,” he confessed. He spoke slower and softer, his eyes never leaving yours, “about how I saw the bracelet in a window the other day, and how it reminded me of the sunflowers you painted on my arm that one time I visited you in your hometown. And how I wanted you to have a sunflower on your own hand, then I’d ask you to be my Valentine.”

He looked down at the ground in shame as he continued, “But I got scared. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship, especially since you’ve only been here a month. So I figured after I left your house that it might be easier if you didn’t know it was me, and that’s why I lied about the date. Just in case you were, I don’t know, expecting something…more. Than just me, I mean.”

Taking the box in his own hands, he twiddled with it. “I thought I lost my chance this morning, but then Halo messaged asking you to come. So I came here thinking this could be my second chance until you started asking about Coyote…thought I was done for. You wanted him while I’d stay the idiot that lost you forever.”

Your heart no longer fluttered but burst at his words. A love you had for him that didn’t know was already there had finally surfaced as you shut him up with a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You’re so much more than what I could ever want, Bobby,” you whispered, scooting closer to him on the step.

A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and you swore you’ve never seen him smile so widely. Gently lifting the bracelet from its box, he undid the clasp. “May I?” he asked.

You rested your outstretched arm on his knee, allowing him to put it on you. Your nerves awakened at the soft touch of his fingers against your wrist, sending even more shockwaves throughout your body as he clasped his hand around yours afterwards. The bracelet was cool against your skin, but you felt nothing but warmth allover—from his jacket, from his touch, and from the loving feeling dancing inside you.

The moon shone high above you as midnight quickly approached, and you decided to make the most of the last minutes of the day.

“Hey, Bobby. I believe you have one last thing to ask me.”

“Is it the something you actually asked me first?” he teased, but quickly surrendered at the funny look you gave him. Hee gazed sincerely at you, “Bee?”

“Yes, Bobby?” you pretended.

He leaned in close to you till your noses were touching, and whispered slowly, “Will you be my Valentine?”

“I don’t think I have a choice anyway,” you mocked his earlier response as you both laughed, “but yes, Bobby. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

His lips found yours not a second later, fireworks exploding with every kiss that landed on your lips.

The moon stood brightly above, indicating the beginning of another day. Though your days from this point would never be the same, now that you had Bob and Bob had you.

All thanks to a flower given on a front step.

Tag List @roostersrooster @rosesvioletshardy @bonitanightmxres @avaleineandafryingpan @bradshawseresinbabe @hangmanbrainrot @babyonboardfloyd @demxters @footprintsinthesxnd

Add yourself to my tag list!

Disclaimer I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

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

[callsign-fox]

Bob: *seductively takes off glasses*

Bob: Wow…

Y/N: *blushes and smiles* ... what?

Bob: You're really fucking blurry.

#Bob #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob imagine #Bob fanfiction #Bob incorrect quote #robert floyd imagine #Robert Floyd incorrect quote #robert floyd fanfiction #top gun #top gun Maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick incorrect quotes

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 5

(Ch. 4), (Ch. 3), (Ch. 2), (Ch. 1)

Gallery II Taglist Application II Symbol Guide

Summary: The truth comes out but neither expected the other's reaction... WARNINGS: Alcohol mention, general angst, fluff A/N: Tagging some of the amazing creators & friends whose work inspired me to start writing again: @wwhatev3r @brassknucklespeirs @softguarnere @holdingforgeneralhugs @rogue-durin-16 @auroralightsthesky @lenabob @legally-devorak @dustyjjumpwings @stillbandofbrothersthirsty @tvserie-s-world @toyes-lipring @hurricanerex666 @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @softliebgott @latibvles @mercurygray @sergeant-spoons @problematicfavesareproblematic @softspeirs

Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England. 

It didn't take her long to find him. 

Alix knew Joe well enough to know that he chain-smoked when he was upset and he'd want to sit down for a smoke before walking back to his billet, especially at such a late hour of the night.

She was a spy; she was supposed to know these things.

There was a quiet pond just a small ways from the pub which had a number of quaint wooden benches overlooking the water's edge. It was the perfect place for a late-night smoke to clear your head.

Despite being the middle of summer, nights in Aldbourne were usually brisk and as goosebumps prickled up her arms, Alix berated herself internally for forgetting to grab her fur wrap before leaving the house earlier.

In Philadelphia high society, fur was primarily for winter wear but with the drafty English air, the former model figured her mother would’ve forgiven her eventually. 

Squinting in the dim light, she was able to identify a lone figure occupying a bench by the water's edge and she surmised it was most likely Joe.

As she approached, the rhythmic click-clack of her heels on the pavement knifed through the stillness and the hunched figure turned, allowing the gentle glow of the moon to illuminate his face.

It was Joe Liebgott alright, and he looked like hell. 

He was pale as a ghost, save for the reddish blotches on his cheeks where tear-tracks glistened. His hair stuck out sporadically and Alix could tell he’d been running his hands through it, another nervous habit of his.

As soon as he saw her, he hurriedly swiped the tears away with his sleeve and only then did she notice the blood. 

It was crusted on the scraped and swollen knuckles of his right hand, with thin dried stripes all the way down his fingertips like crimson paint.

From what she could see, it looked like he'd busted his knuckles open punching something, probably a wall.

"Jesus, Joey, are you okay?!" 

Joe's expression hardened. 

"Don't worry 'bout it." 

Alix ignored him, stepping over the handful of cigarette butts that littered the ground by his boots and rushing to his side.

"Let me see your knuckles,” she insisted urgently. “I can help." 

Sitting next to him on the bench, she reached for his bloodied hand but he jerked his arm away.

"Like Hell you can."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her temper starting to flare at his tone.

"It means don't bother, Alix," Joe spat and the young agent flinched. 

It was the first time he'd called her by her real name instead of a nickname and somehow, it stung worse than if he'd just cussed her out. 

“You should get going.” His voice was quieter now but just as embittered and he crossed his arms, staring hard at the pond’s surface. “Wouldn’t want your boyfriend getting worried.”

Alix bristled at the accusation. 

"He's not my boyfriend," she snapped. "I don’t even know him. But even if he was, what's it to you?" 

Snorting defensively, she muttered, "It's not like you give a shit about me beyond a quick fuck anyway." 

Joe's head shot up and he looked over at her with puffy, red-rimmed eyes. 

“Is that what you think,” he asked, his voice rising with indignation. “That I was just in this for sex?” 

“Santa Maria," the agent swore, throwing up her hands in frustration. "What else am I supposed to think when you walk into my life just to fuck me and walk out again like nothing ever happened?!”

"Goddamn it, Alix!” Joe sprang to his feet. "It was never about the sex! Don't you get that?! It was about you! It was about being with you!”

“Then why did you keep disappearing?” Alix pushed, her chest aching with half a year’s worth of suppressed heartache. “For weeks, Joey, not just days. Weeks!”

That was the final straw.

“Because I was falling in love with you, alright?!” Joe yelled, his voice breaking as the tears he’d been fighting began to spill down his cheeks. “And that scares the absolute shit outta me!”

Before Alix had time to comprehend what he’d said, Joe had turned away, squeezing his eyes shut and running a shaky hand through his hair as he struggled to regain his composure. 

For a moment, all Alix could do was stare at his back in stunned silence as the weight of his words began to sink in.

“But why…?” she managed to choke out finally.

Why would you love me?

“Why would that scare you?"

Her voice became small and she hated the way it sounded: Weak. Quivery. Scared. All of the things as an agent, she was trained never to be.

"...Am I that hard to love, Joey?" 

He whirled back around, the frustration gone and concern suddenly written all over his face.

"Fuck no! Are you kiddin' me?" 

Joe sat down next to her again, this time close enough that she could see herself reflected in the pupils of his beautiful, brown puppy-dog eyes.

Reaching out, he gently tucked an escaped curl from her bun behind her ear and Alix felt her heart skip a beat. 

"You, Alix Martinelli," he murmured. "Are the easiest fuckin' person in the world to love."

He flashed her a small, rueful smile and leaned back on the bench, digging a pack of his beloved Chesterfields out of his coat pocket.

"Hell,” he remarked with a sniffle as he fished around for his lighter.

“Everybody knows I’ve been stuck on you since your first day here. Didn’t even say a damn word to me but I saw that gorgeous smile and I was done for.” 

He chuckled softly, adding, “Tab and Popeye wouldn’t stop givin’ me shit about it.”

Alix's mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all.

All these abstract pieces, all these feelings, all that time…

“Joey, it’s been six months of whatever this—” she gestured to the two of them “— is but then tonight, out of the blue, you show up with…” 

She trailed off, unwilling or perhaps unable to finish the sentence.

“Mary." He filled in the name for her as he lit up his cigarette, completely oblivious, and Alix felt her mouth go dry. 

"Yeah. Her." 

"That was Tab's doing," Joe explained after taking a drag.

“He could tell I was losing my fuckin’ mind over you and he thought forcing me out on a double-date with him and some local girls might distract me or somethin'.” 

Taking a shorter drag, he let the smoke curl into the crisp night air and remarked dryly,

“As you can see, it didn't work.”

"Sure looked like it did with the way she was hanging off you," Alix muttered, trying and failing to keep the petulance and bitterness out of her tone. 

Joe leaned slightly closer to her to make sure she heard him.

"Not a bit. Like I told her and Tab, I already got my eye on somebody else."

He gave her a wink and she felt her cheeks starting to flush pink so she dropped her gaze, avoiding his eyes. 

It sounded too good to be true. There had to be a catch, there just had to be.

“But if you felt this way all this time, then why didn’t you say anything to me for so long?” she asked, expecting to catch him in a lie and prove to herself that the whole thing was some sort of mistake.

But when she cautiously looked up at him for an answer, he was gazing at her with those beautiful, sad brown puppy-dog eyes she loved so much.

"Because," he began. "I knew two things from the moment I met you. One: I knew loved you. Because how could I not? You're everythin' I ever wanted.  And Two…"

He hesitated for a second before saying quietly,

"Two: I knew you were gonna break my fuckin’ heart." 

Alix's forehead creased.

"I would never," she declared fervently but Joe just shook his head.

“Girls like you don’t end up with guys like me, Ziskeit. I’m not an idiot. You're a calendar girl, for Christ’s sake! You gotta practically beat guys off you with a stick! I've seen the pages people ripped out an' shoved in their pockets for safe-keeping. You're everybody's dream girl!"

He ran a hand through his hair.

"And you’re not just pretty either, you're smart too, crazy smart! With your OSS creds and your high-class schooling, you got one hell of a future when all this is over, y’know?”

Taking another slow drag, he exhaled a few seconds later with a grim-sounding sigh.

"And me, what do I got? I'm just some fuckin’ cabbie from Frisco. Nothin' special. Why the hell would a girl like you, who could have Gene Fuckin' Kelly if she wanted, want me? There’s a thousand other guys— classy, uptown types like your officer back there— who are better for you than I’ll ever be. You'll probably end up marryin' some big-shot attorney someday anyway. So I've been tryin' to stay away from you… and Jesus Christ, did I try!"

He shook his head again.

"Honestly Zees, stayin’ away from you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do," he admitted. "And I couldn't even see it through 'cause I'm fuckin' selfish. 'Cause at the end of the day, I know I’m nowhere near good enough to call you mine, but goddamn it, Alix, I want to anyway!"

Alix’s vision began to blur and it felt like there was a burning lump in her throat that wouldn’t budge.

This was everything she'd ever wanted but it couldn't have come at a worse time. They were all jumping into a war zone any day now.

Should she tell him how she felt, despite knowing that one or both of them might not make it back home?

Should she open herself up to the possibility of letting him in, just to lose him?

She'd already lost her older brother to the war, could she stand to lose her boyfriend too?

She forced her gaze heavenward, warring internally with her head and heart until the tears passed. Finally gathering her courage, she slid over a little bit, inching closer to him like a bomb she was set to defuse.

Despite her nervousness, her heart had made its verdict clear from the get-go: 

Being his, even for a little bit, would be worth the risk.

"You are more than good enough, Joey," she murmured, tentatively reaching over to rest her hand on top of his before interlocking their fingers. "You're the only person I want."

He looked down at their intertwined fingers and back up to her eyes, searching her features fervently for any trace of deception. 

"No kiddin'? You really mean that?"

Alix nodded, beaming, and gave his hand a light squeeze.

"Of course I mean it! But we're still gonna have to keep things quiet, okay? I don't think either of us wants to get busted for fraternization."

 

Joe nodded in agreement, a lopsided grin lit up his face as the realization sank in: 

They were official. 

He looked more overjoyed than she'd ever seen him, more like a kid in a candy store than a soldier days away from war.  

"Still gonna be pretty fuckin' great though, even if we can't tell anybody we're going steady yet, huh, Zees?" 

Alix cocked her head curiously.

"I've been meaning to ask you what that means. I tried asking Muck because he speaks some German but he had no idea. You're always using it and for all I know, you could be calling me the world's biggest bitch in German or something." 

Joe chuckled.

"It's nothin' like that. Hell, it's not even German. But you're still gonna kick yourself when you find out."

Now Alix was really perplexed. 

"Why?" 

"Because it was right in front of you the whole time." 

"Stop speaking in riddles, you asshole," Alix pouted.

"Fine, fine, just 'cause it's you," Joe teased, his brown eyes sparkling. "It’s Yiddish. The word is Ziskeit but sometimes I’ll shorten it to Zees. Still means the same thing, which is ‘Sweetness’. But we also use it to mean someone you cherish, like a sweetheart.”

Alix blinked in surprise. 

“Wait...So you mean this whole time…?"

"I've been telling you how I feel for around six months now and you had no clue 'cause it was in Yiddish? Yeah." 

Alix giggled and nudged at his shoulder playfully with her own.

"I never took you for a sap, Joe Liebgott!"  

"Neither did I," he quipped as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "Guess you just bring out a different side of me, Zees." 

"Well that explains why Skip didn't recognize it then. He tried to tell me it meant 'Goose' at first and I told him he was full of shit."

Joe laughed. 

"Goose would be gandz. I can call you that instead if y-" 

"Joseph Liebgott, don't you dare."

The paratrooper jokingly pretended to mull it over for a minute before responding with a mischievous "No promises."

For the first time, Alix realized that her palms had been sweating from the nervousness.

Her first instinct was to wipe them off but she hesitated, biting her lip. A part of her knew she was being irrational but she worried if she let go, the spell would be broken and everything would be as it was before: Joe would leave again and it would be as though nothing between them had ever happened.

It would all have been just a dream.

But her palm was growing clammy and so grudgingly, she let go of his hand, waiting tensely for the other shoe to drop.

But Joe didn't disappear.

Instead, he draped an arm lovingly around her shoulders, resting his hand lightly on her tricep and Alix shifted so she could lean into him, releasing a sigh of relief she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Joe was kind enough not to acknowledge it.

"I didn't know you spoke Yiddish," Alix continued conversationally. "Seeing as you'd had some translation training, I always just assumed you spoke German."

"I speak both,” Joe replied as he absentmindedly traced little circles on Alix’s upper arm. “But German just feels more…distant, y’know? My family never uses it at home, just when we’re in public. We use Yiddish with the people closest to us since it’s a big part of our heritage. It  just feels… more meaningful, I guess, 'cause it's somethin' we don't use with everybody, y'know? Stop me if I'm not makin' any sense."  

“You’re making perfect sense, Joey,” she assured him softly. “And I’m honored that you use a Yiddish term of endearment for me. It means the world that you care that much."

Joe pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Why wouldn't I? I've only been sweet on you for what, six months now? I know people who got married in half that time!"

He chuckled.

"And don't worry, I got lots more pet names where Ziskeit came from too. We're gonna have you speakin' Yiddish like a pro by the time you meet my folks!"

Alix red lips quirked up into a smile.

"Yiddish is so beautiful, I can see why you hold it close. Honestly, English has never been strong enough to describe how I feel about you either, which is why I use Italian. Like, tesoro, which means treasure but we use it for the word Darling. And cucciolo, which is my other favorite. It reminds me of your adorable puppy eyes."

"I know what they mean," Joe divulged sheepishly, turning slightly pink. "I kinda asked Gonorrhea to translate for me 'cause I was hoping you felt the same as me but I was too chicken-shit to just ask ya in case I was wrong..."

"And you still didn't just tell me how you felt, even after you knew I felt the same?" Alix's eyes were huge.

"Yeah, 'cause I didn't believe him." Joe was cringing at his past self now. "I thought he was just fuckin' with me or somethin' 'cause there was no way in Hell a girl like you could ever feel that way about a guy like me."

He shook his head with a grin.

"I've never been so fuckin' glad to be wrong."

Alix was about to reply when a particularly strong gust of wind whipped through the nearby trees, stinging her bare arms with its chill. Starting to shiver in her spaghetti-strap gown, Alix silently cursed herself again for forgetting her fur and began rubbing her hands together to warm them. 

Having noticed her shiver, Joe immediately tugged his coat off and placed it around Alix’s shoulders. It was huge on her but the wool was cozy, still warm from Joe’s body heat. 

Hearing the approaching hum of voices from a distance, she hurriedly glanced over her shoulder before shrugging the coat off as a small pack of servicemen and their dates left the Crown, walking along the road behind them back to their billets. 

“C’mon Ziskeit,” Joe implored. “Put it on, will ya, before you catch a cold.”

Alix shook her head nervously, her eyes darting back to the group passing them by.

“What if someone sees?” 

“Let ‘em.” Joe shrugged. “They can’t write me up for givin’ a beautiful lady my coat when she’s cold, can they? Doesn't prove shit."

“Oh yeah?" Alix cocked an eyebrow slyly. "So did you let Mary wear your coat then too?”

Joe snorted. 

“You kiddin’ me? I wouldn’t even let her hold my jump wings.” 

Satisfied, Alix pulled the coat back on, enveloping herself in the warm wool. She was swimming in it, the thick material dwarfing her small frame like a sack.

The sleeves hung way past her hands and Joe stifled a laugh. 

"Jeez and I thought Perco made the coats look big!" 

"Oh so you let Perconte wear your coat too, huh?" Alix joked, a teasing glint in her dark eyes. "And here I thought I was special." 

Joe rolled his eyes playfully.

"You're a fuckin' smartass, d'you know that?" 

"Hey, you fell in love with me," Alix reminded him with a quick kiss on the cheek. "So you asked for it, Coat Whore.” 

Joe was about to respond when a commotion behind them cut him off. 

"In Banbridge Town in the County Down, one morning last July-" 

Both their heads snapped back toward the sound of the singing.

It was a clearly inebriated Joe Toye stumbling out of The Crown with an equally inebriated Don Malarkey by his side, the pair belting out a truly spectacular rendition of an Irish folk ballad while a bemused-looking Skip Muck was proudly harmonizing just behind them. 

"–down a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín and she smiled as she passed me by! She-" 

Alix grinned. Had it been any other night, she would've been right there with them. 

Her family's maid, Penelope, was originally from Ireland and she'd taught Alix several of her favorite folk songs as the pair hung wash together. Alix's mother, Clarissa, always scolded her for helping Penny with her chores because it "was beneath her as the lady of the house" but Alix didn't mind at all. 

On the contrary, she relished getting to swap stories and folk songs with the older girl, who had done so much more living in her 26 years than Alix had in her 23.

Penny taught her Irish folk tunes and Alix taught her some phrases in Italian to impress the Calabrian boy from the South side that Penny had her eye on.  It was like having a real friend, not like the sycophants at her boarding school who simply had to work their family’s connections into every conversation or they’d combust.

 

“–From Bantry Bay down to Derry Quay, from Galway to Dublin town–” 

As the voices of her best friends slowly faded into the distance, Alix leaned her head on Joe’s shoulder and admired the beauty of the moment----

The chorus of chirping crickets, the faint quacking of the ducks in the shallows, the laughter of her best friends in the background, the soft glow of the moon on the water, the earthy smell of the rolling fields beyond the pond, the warmth of Joe’s body radiating through his clothes as he wrapped his arms around her.

They were going steady now.

Her heart was so full that it felt like it might burst through her chest.

All of the months of waiting and hoping had been worth it. She wanted to cry and shout and jump for joy at the same time. 

But as more and more people began to file from the doors of The Crown, Alix took a worried glance over at the worn watch on Joe's wrist. 

"Madonna mia," she exclaimed. "It's already 11 o'clock and I still need to review my cover story and dossiers before tomorrow!" 

Joe stood up and gallantly offered her his arm.

"Mind if I walk ya home then, Ziskeit? Call me a sap but I can't let my girl walk home alone at night, even if she is a spy. I'd still go outta my mind with worry." 

Alix stood as well, smoothing the skirt of her dress. 

"One condition." 

"Name it." 

"You stay the night. I could use some cuddles from my boyfriend while I'm reading up on all the people I have to kill."

The paratrooper gave her a lopsided grin.

"I was hoping you'd ask, Zees. After I drop you off, I just gotta run back to my place real quick so I can grab my ODs for tomorrow and I'll be right back over. Ya won't even know I'm gone. How does that sound?" 

Alix ecstatically linked her arm with his.

"Sounds perfect."

#FireOnFire #Joe Liebgott x OC #Joe Liebgott x reader #Don Malarkey #Donald Malarkey #Skip Muck #Warren Muck #Joe Toye #Band of Brothers #Band of Brothers fanfic #fanfiction #BoB #BoB fanfic #Band of Brothers fanfiction #BoB fanfiction #Band of Brothers fandom #HBO War #HBO War fandom #hbo band of brothers #slow burn #fluff #Band of Brothers imagine #Joe Liebgott imagine #Lewis Nixon #mywork #BoB fandom #long fic #Joe Liebgott x Alix Martinelli #mutual pining #pining

[sailorsolar12]

Bob stared wide eyed as he looked at the small present that his wife had given him. Inside was a little bun and a positive pregnancy test. He blinked rapidly trying to process what he was staring at. He looked up at his wife wide eyed before suddenly falling over and off of his chair unconscious.

Y/N went wide eyed yelping as she tried to rush over to him, but was grateful as Rooster and Hangman caught him and tried to wake him back up. Y/N blushed and shook her head as Phoenix took the box confused before screaming in excitement seeing that Y/N was pregnant. She smiled sheepishly as Bob's eyes opened and looked at her.

"We're having a baby?" he asked gently.

"We're having a baby," Y/N answered lightly.

Bob bolted up from his chair and scooped her up happily spinning Y/N around excitedly.

#sailorsolar12 #fanficiton #imagines #imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #bob #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob imagines #bob imagine #robert floyd imagines #robert floyd imagine #bob fanfiction #robert floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd imagines #robert bob floyd fanfiction #rooster #hangman

[writingdumpster]

secret wife

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

warnings: none, all fluff

summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.

word count: 1k

A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!

Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob. 

I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo

“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit. 

“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered. 

“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said. 

“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested. 

“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman. 

“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback. 

“I’m married,” Payback pointed out. 

“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted. 

“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said. 

“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in. 

“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said. 

“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker. 

“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was. 

“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up. 

“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.

“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin. 

“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer. 

“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you. 

“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.” 

“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed. 

“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife. 

“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked. 

“Y/N,” you told her. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.

“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it. 

“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.” 

“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back. 

“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said. 

“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly. 

“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.

“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question. 

“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you. 

“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.  

“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster. 

“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back. 

“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked. 

“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet. 

“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out. 

“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled. 

“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained. 

“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained. 

“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said. 

“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry. 

“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face. 

“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home. 

“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base. 

“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered. 

“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said. 

“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted. 

“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”  

A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #top gun x reader #dagger squad x reader #bob floyd x reader fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader

[roosterforme]

Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry

Length: 11k words (what have I done?)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader

This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 

He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.

When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."

Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"

The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."

"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."

"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."

You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.

"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."

"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."

Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 

By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."

Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 

Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."

And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.

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

For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 

He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 

"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"

"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."

They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.

That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."

"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 

"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."

As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 

Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 

Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.

He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.

On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 

On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."

Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."

A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 

"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."

"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 

"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 

He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."

You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."

"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 

"Okay. Bob."

He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"

When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."

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

You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 

"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."

You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.

You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 

Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"

"Yes."

The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 

"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"

Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."

"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.

"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."

"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.

"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 

But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.

On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.

I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.

He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 

He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.

Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.

It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."

Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.

He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 

"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 

His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 

"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 

"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 

You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."

Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"

After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.

"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.

You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."

Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."

This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 

"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 

He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."

Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."

He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"

"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."

Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."

Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 

He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 

"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 

Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 

"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.

"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 

You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 

"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 

"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.

"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"

Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"

You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.

Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 

"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 

"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 

"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.

"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 

"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.

"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 

Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.

Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"

You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 

And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."

"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 

But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"

"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."

"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.

Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."

He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.

"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.

Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 

Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.

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

Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.

You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.

You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.

You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 

You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 

"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 

The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 

You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 

Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.

"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 

"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."

You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."

Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"

You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 

The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."

You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"

His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."

You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."

He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"

As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."

Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 

You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."

Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 

He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."

He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"

He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."

You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 

As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"

"Okay."

He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.

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

Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.

"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 

"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 

"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."

Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."

Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 

"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"

"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.

Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 

"Lieutenant Floyd."

He smiled softly. "Good morning."

"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.

You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"

He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."

Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."

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

You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.

"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 

"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 

The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."

His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 

Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.

You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 

"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.

"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 

You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."

When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 

Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.

You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"

At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.

"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.

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

It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 

"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."

You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"

He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."

Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 

As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 

Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"

He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."

"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.

He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 

You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."

It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."

"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."

Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.

He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."

Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."

He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"

You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"

"Yes." 

It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 

Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."

And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 

He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.

Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.

His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"

You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."

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

Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 

Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 

"Is it okay if I taste you?"

All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 

Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 

When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.

Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."

A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 

All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 

"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."

"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 

You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 

The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 

"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 

His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 

You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.

"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."

"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."

He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."

He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 

You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.

Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."

He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."

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

Six months later...

After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.

As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 

"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.

"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."

Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 

"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."

"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."

"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."

"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 

You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 

This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.

"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"

Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 

You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."

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

Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!

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[withahappyrefrain]

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 

It also brought up many questions. 

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 

At least that's what the other thought. 

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 

“Been awhile?” 

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 

“Try never.” 

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 

Darn those long limbs. 

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 

You rubbed your thighs together. 

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 

Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 

“You…like doing it?” 

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 

“You don't have to wait.” 

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 

You heard me. 

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 

For what, you couldn't tell. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you want it to be different?” 

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 

He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 

How could he do that so quickly? 

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 

Thank god your parents were on vacation. 

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  

He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 

Good. 

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 

And he had just gotten started. 

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“Robby.” 

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 

Why did either of you wait this long? 

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 

Jesus Christ, he was huge. 

“Fuck, she was right.” 

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 

“I….we can unpack this later-” 

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 

Darlin. You were his darlin. 

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 

Even he didn't know when he would return home. 

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 

“I don't want you to go.” 

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 

He was going to need it for the next few months. 

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 

You’d be a damn fool to. 

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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

@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

#my writing #Bob Floyd #Robert Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #Bob fucks #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #Bob Floyd smut #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Could I request a smut with Bellamy Blake? Like him and the reader are trying to get a quickie in before everyone comes back and he tries to make the reader cum one more time? :) if u can ofc!

close call | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — you and bellamy take advantage of a moment alone in the rover on a scouting expedition. time is against you when bellamy makes one final request before everyone returns.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings: smut, almost caught, penetration (p in v), oral (fem receiving), quickie, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, idk whether part of this is considered dub-con or not but I’ll still add it just in case

notes: the ending is sort of abrupt but anyways—

word count: 1.8k

The rover was bouncing so vigorously; it was a wonder the axles hadn’t broken under pressure.

“Oh my—fuck! Oh my god!”

It had started off innocent. Two people had to stay behind to guard the rover as a group scouted the forest terrain for new foraging and hunting grounds for Arkadia. Bellamy had offered to stay behind along with you. At first, you both obeyed the instructions to watch over the rover. But, damn, he looked so goodin his tan t-shirt and black cargo pants, you just couldn’t restrain yourself.

First came the flirting, then the wandering hands, and then suddenly you were inside the rover, on the floor in the back, with Bellamy inside you.

Your breasts recoiled up and down, cleavage exposed from the low neckline of your tight tank top as you bounced on Bellamy’s lap, his cock sliding up into you with each drop of your hips. His face was buried between your breasts, sucking harsh kisses into your skin. Fuck, you should have told him to stop; people would see the marks.

But you couldn’t. Especially when he lowered to your sensitive peaked nipple and bit it softly through the material of your shirt.

“Ah, fuck!” you rasped, skin prickling with goosebumps.

Fingers tangled in his dark wavy locks, you guided him back up to your level, frantically catching his lips in a wanton kiss. Your tongues moved together with a hunger of their own, strings of saliva keeping you attached whenever you parted for a sliver of breath.

You sank down fully onto his pelvis and engulfed his entire pulsating length before grinding your hips back and forth at an almost Olympic-level speed, feeling his cock repeatedly curve into your throbbing walls. Something between a whine and a groan of the words “fucking christ” was mumbled against your lips by Bellamy.

His hands held you down by the hips as he began snapping his own hips upward, skin-on-skin sounding as his pelvis slapped against your ass. You grappled onto his broad shoulders as your head fell back with a filthy high-pitched moan which, thankfully, was confined to the rover’s interior.

“So fucking good, princess,” Bellamy breathlessly praised between mind-devastating thrusts. “So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Good.”

His fingers dug harshly into your skin, blunt nails surely creating red crescent indentations in your soft skin. You would wear them like a trophy. He forced your hips down and trapped your body on his cock as his head fell back against the mesh panel wall, soft tip spurting thick white come deep inside your belly. His scrunched brows twitched with release; lips were parted as his shallow breaths gave way to deep sex-drunken moans.

The warm white liquid filled you up, leaking prettily down Bellamy’s thick penetrating length. You were so full of his seed and ever-hard cock that all your body could do in response was orgasm, the heat spreading from your belly and pervading your entire nervous system.

All control was lost. You trembled from head to toe, essentially vibrating on his cock which was still prodding against your cervix. Strangled gasps fell from your lips, your forehead falling against Bellamy’s who had finally managed to regain his composure and was hypnotically watching you work through your own high.

Finally, the both of you reached a state of tranquillity, holding each other closely, panting and inhaling one another’s intoxicating breaths. It was a good thing too—that you finished so quickly.

“The other’s will be back soon,” Bellamy whispered, finishing your thoughts.

You nodded. He pulled your hips forward again and you both made some quiet noise of pleasure, eyes glued on one another and simmering with atmospheric desire. For about ten seconds, you stayed like this—motionless, panting, staring.

And then Bellamy was flipping you over onto the car floor.

He hovered above you, brown eyes pooling with sin, dark strands of hair partially obscuring his vision. You simply looked up at him, wide-eyed and speechless, and obviously, he found your shock amusing, evident from the subtle smirk on his lips.

“Want you to come again before they get back.” He leaned down to leave a hot kiss on your neck, lips tickling your skin as he murmured, “Think you can do that for me?”

You blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

And then he was lowering himself down to your hips and hooking his arms around your thighs. His question wasn’t really demanding an answer—this notion was crystal clear as he abruptly buried his face between your legs and began eating you out like there was no guarantee tomorrow would come.

“Bell!” you cried with a gasped squeak, your back arching off the floor and eyes squeezing shut from overstimulation. “Wait, please, it’s—it’s too mu—” You cut yourself off with a sharp moan and encased his head with your thighs as his lips suctioned around your clit. “Shit! Don’t stop!”

The plea in your voice was useless. Of course he wasn’t going to stop. Not until your thighs were nearly crushing his skull as your taste coated his tongue, dribbled down his chin, and dripped from your pussy in a pretty, perfect glistening mess.

You rose to your elbows, hand reaching down to delve your fingers between his soft wavy locks, alternating between pushing him deeper into your pussy and tugging his hair to coax a groan from his lips which vibrated against your already throbbing clit.

The sounds you made could barely be considered moans, but rather stuttering cries—cries for more, cries to encourage him to keep doing that heavenly thing he was doing with his tongue.

“Right there,” you gasped.

He nodded, humming in compliance. Anything for you; anything to get you to come undone from his manipulation. His biceps flexed as he dragged you closer, hands splayed across your tensed stomach, rubbing and massaging the soft skin.

Tongue wide and flat, he licked an agonisingly slow stripe from hole to clit, beginning to flick his tongue side-to-side once he reached your swollen sensitive nub. God, he had your heart pounding and it felt so exhilarating. The pulsing had dropped into your stomach, each rapid beat building the tension that was tightening your gut.

Your hips rolled mindlessly against his tongue, using him like your own personal sex toy. His eyes were closed, literally drinkingin the fact that he was lapping between your thighs. He enjoyed giving pleasure just as much as you did receiving which made the moment so much more hotter.

Over the sound of your whining and panting, you could hear the distant conversations of people returning. Returning to the rover that Bellamy was currently eating you out in. Fuck.

“Bell.”

“Mm.”

He just kept going. Part of you wanted to ignore the approaching group and continue letting him bring you to your peak, but the other part recognised the embarrassment of potentially being caught in such an… indecent position.

“Bellamy,”you gritted.

The authority in your tone managed to tear him away from your pussy (and made his cock twitch with a drop of come).

He looked up at you through messy strands of hair. “Come for me one more time, princess,” he urged, voice low and husky. “Then I’ll stop.”

His hand kneaded the side of your waist, gaze on yours as he awaited your response. His mouth and chin sheened with your slick—a pretty, perfect glistening mess. How could you deny him when he looked like that? When he was begging to worship your body and set your nerves alight?

The flames licking at your insides began to suffocate, orgasm receding slowly into non-existence. It was all you could do to nod your head. “Make me come.” Your voice was heavy with desperation. “Please.”

Within seconds, he obliged, large veiny hands curling around the base of your thighs and diving back in. If you thought he was quick before, you were in a whole other ballpark when his mouth returned to your clit. Your fluttering eyes rolled back as his head swiftly shook from side to side, the tip of his tongue pressing hard against your sensitive nub.

An orgasm was rocketing inside you, so fast approaching that you felt entirely unprepared for its arrival. The voices outside in the forest were getting closer and so were you. So close you felt like you could reach out and touch the powerful feeling inside your gut. Technically, you could.

Your hands fisted in Bellamy’s hair, fumbling for any sort of tether to the ground because you were certain if you let go, you would shoot off into oblivion. He repeatedly sucked on your clit, swirled tight circles, devoured you like this was his last meal on death row, and then repeated the process.

“Good girl,” Bellamy mumbled into your pussy. “Almost there.”

Eyes squeezed shut, you writhed beneath his hold, hips jerking against your mouth. Your nipples ached with hardness. Your eyes overflowed with hot tears, streaming down the sides of your face. Your whines had turned to borderline screams, begging him “Don’t stop!” and a mixture of senseless profanities.

Your quivering thighs—with the last of their strength—threatened to crush his head as you squeezed around him, finally feeling the white flames inside you burst into a devastating explosion.

“Fuck!”

***********

Side-by-side, you and Bellamy stood outside the rover, fully dressed and watching as the scouting group returned from their minor expedition. Bellamy’s hand, which was resting on your hip, wandered to your ass and softly kneaded it in his palm, causing your body to tense in fear of being seen.

He leaned down far enough for you to catch his quiet words. “Don’t worry, princess,” he said. “I’m the only one who knows what you just did on the floor of that rover.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes remaining on the approaching group. “I’m the only one who knows you begged to make me come on the floor of that rover.”

His response was a quiet chuckle, his hand moving to your back to rub it affectionately. Just before the others reached hearing distance, he added, “And I’d gladly do it again.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, forming a timid smile on your lips.

Raven was the first person you made eye contact with. She subtly gestured to your pants, wearing a semi-proud grin as she nodded in approval. A horrid blush flooded your cheeks and you looked down to see your flier was completely undone. Well… shit.

“Anything happen while we were gone?” Monty asked, carrying a variety of flora samples.

You side-eyed Bellamy, witnessing the slightest smirk quirk on his lips.

He was quick to respond, sounding casual enough to avoid suspicion. “Nothing too interesting.”

You nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, his arm was discretely supporting your weight as your legs were still violently trembling.

#wife of all dilfs ✍️ #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake fluff #bellamy blake x clarke griffin #bellarke #the 100 #bob morley #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamyblake

[promisingyounglady]

four eyes. | BF x Reader

PAIRINGS: Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: ahem, SMUT, established relationship, profanity, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, facial, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, begging, slightly sub!reader, praise, aftercare and such sweet affection from bobby, not proofread and mdni!!, reader is a minx, brief mention of term ‘slut’, size kink, awkward sweetheart w a big dick!bob,

A/N: this is the most filthiest shit I’ve ever written and if you like this ur crazy… *reblogs, comments and likes the post*

“What are you up to?” he drawls, watching carefully as you crawl over his naked midriff and through the sea of bedsheets. Post-sex endorphins were through the roof right now for Bob, a wave of happy tiredness sweeping over the pilot.

You huff, hand outstretched as you reach for Bob's glasses perched on the bedside table.

“I wanna try these on” you say to him, balancing yourself as you try to grab the frames. Bob chuckles, a hand coming to rub your ass lovingly.

You bit your lip to fight the feeling of a grin spreading on your face, the feeling of Bob's soft hands tickling you as you playfully pushed him away, all the while he simply beams at you.

The hand supporting yourself on his hard chest slips, causing you to collapse on top of your boyfriend, your naked breasts brushing over his cock and sending a shiver down his spine.

A firm hand comes to still yourself. “Careful” he says softly, hands warm.

Bob looks over, grabbing the glasses just as you were about to pick them up, and holding them out of your reach. You protest, trying to get ahold of the frames you loved so much. Bob puts them on, allowing himself to properly see his girl.

“You don’t wanna wear these, they don’t look good on anyone. Including me.” he mumbles, adjusting you on top of him.

But you're quick to swipe them off his face, ignoring Bob's laughs when you put the glasses on yourself and straddle his hips. “I like them, they’re cute,” you tell him.

“Well what d’ya know?” Bob utters softly to himself when he sees you, gazing up at his girl wearing the steel rimmed aviators and looking absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi there, four eyes” he chuckles, finding it odd saying a phrase he’s been nicknamed all his childhood. Hell, even Seresin has no problem calling him that to this day.

Bob smiles, strong but soft hands coming to rest on your hips as you sat dangerously close to where his happy trail leads to. Your brows furrowed as you viewed the world through his lenses.

“Jesus, Bob, you really are blind!” You uttered, looking down at the blurry man seated against the bedpost.

Bob’s become busy at the moment, pressing pecks to your hardended nipples. He simply nods, pretending he’s listening.

“You should go to the eye doctor, honey”

Bob peaks through, giving you a look. “That’s where I got them”

“Hm.”

The room is silent, a soft glow of the afternoon sunlight peeking through the white shutters. You feel the corners of Bob’s lips curling into a smile against your skin, a silent worship to your body.

“You’re so soft.” he murmurs.

“Honey,” you call to your boyfriend.

“Hm?” Bob replies absentmindedly, still brushing his face along your chest, hugging you closer.

You tug on his brown locks, pulling his head from your body and looking down at him.

“I wanna try something.” you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes mixed with a bottle of excitement. You quickly press a kiss to his lips.

Bob watches as you pull from his grasp, lips forming a small frown from the loss of contact as you shuffled down the bed so you were now kneeling on the floor by the edge.

Bob looks over at you quizzically, wondering what you were up to before you beckon towards him, ushering him to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Come sit, Robert” you directed, calling him by his birth name to get his attention.

His soft cock limps near his thighs as he adjusts himself, sitting before you in all his naked glory, hair tousled by your hands and a pink blush ghosting his cheeks. His hand comes up to play with your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. You look up in seriousness and confess.

“I want you to cum on these glasses”

Bob stops all motion, hand still tucked behind your ear. The room falls silent.

“What?”

You ignore the bafflement of your crimson cheeked boyfriend, bending down to lick a long stripe up his veiny shaft. A loud moan and harsh tug against your scalp brings you to take him further, almost triggering your gag reflexes. It all happens so fast. Bob mutters incoherently from the sudden gesture, both of you going slightly insane when your nose presses against his pubic bone as tears form near your eyes.

“Baby, hold on a moment, Jesus fuck!”

You’re worried you’re going to make a mess on the floor from the way your slick almost drips from your pussy.

You’ve been thinking of this fantasy for a while if you were to be honest. Bob pulls you back, gasping for air as a proud feeling settles in your chest. It’s not everyday you hear Bob cuss like that.

He’s panting hard, watching as a bit of saliva is smeared on your lips, eyes glossy. Bob sighs in exasperation as you decide to stroke his cock with your hands.

“You gotta let me speak-“

“Please, Bobby” you beg, pressing kisses to the pink tip and relishing in the way you feel him harden in your hand. A loud groan escapes Bob's throat, feeling sensitive despite having had sex the whole afternoon with you.

“I want you to cum while I have your glasses on” you told him, kitten licks getting the best of your boyfriend. “Like in those pornos” you mumble softly, your shy giggles driving Bob insane.

“Nobody says pornos anymore” he mumbles telling you, swallowing hard when you tug on his cock tighter for not responding.

Bob clears his throat. “You, um, want me to give you a facial?” He asks softly, holding onto your hand that's stroking his cock.

You nod eagerly.

“A-Are you sure?” He says, worried that taking him like this is gonna wear you out. In all honesty, the boy can’t help but grow hard at the thought of cumming all over your innocent face, big eyes covered by his glasses milked by his seed.

You nod, excitement and horniness flowing through your body.

“Please, honey, I want you to see me painted” you sighed, thumb brushing over the thick tip, smearing precum over the slit.

Bob thinks he’s gonna cum just from this angle, but he needs you so badly he tries to regain composure. He bends down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips and letting your face be held in his soft touch. “Let me know if it's too much baby” he addresses in concern, the tears on your cheeks worrying him.

You sniffle, nodding your head to assure him. “Want you so bad, Bobby, let me suck you”

Your last few words are incoherent from the way you let Bob’s big cock stuff your throat, making you gag but desperately hold on. Bob lets go, both hands coming to balance himself on the edge, one gripping the bed sheets.

The sensation is fucking marvellous. You feel so full, loving the way the stretch of your mouth and untouched ache of your pussy turn you cockdrunk on Bob Floyd’s dick.

You look up, desperate to see how he's taking you, wanting to see the expression of him getting the daylights sucked out of him.

Lieutenant Bob ruts his hips pathetically, trying so hard not to make a mess of your mouth and hurt you. His head is pulled back, groans falling from his soft lips as he praises you so good.

“That’s it baby, doing so well for me” he sighs, now two large hands coming to push you a little further, a groan falling from his lips as you take him fully now.

“God, I love you!” he cries out loud, an instinctive response coming from your boyfriend as he caresses your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. You smile, aviator lenses reflecting the light as your lips are wrapped securely around his dick.

”So pretty, such a pretty girl” he says under his breath, admiring the way your tits bounce along with every stroke on his cock. You gasp, pulling away as you let your fist do the rest.

“I love you too, Bobby” you gasped, looking up to find Bob staring at you intensely, with such a fierce gaze of love, sensuality, and pure awe.

”H-How,” he begins, starting to feel a familiar feeling settle inside him. “How did I get so lucky with you?” He admits, wanting nothing more but to see his cum painting his glasses you’re wearing. He thinks he might just let you have them. Being able to see is overrated anyways.

“I think I’m gonna cum, baby” he lets out, watching as your eyes get eager, adjusting your sore knees so you can get the perfect angle.

“Please baby, give it to me” you begged, pussy so sensitive you have to make sure you hold yourself up enough so the cold wooden floors don’t brush against your folds.

Watching you rub his dick like that, mouth open and face ready is an image Bob will have ingrained in his mind forever, a hot spurt of milky liquid shooting onto your lips as Bob finally gives you what you wanted.

Incoherent mumbles fill the sweaty bedroom, letting one hand cup his balls as the other makes sure to smear the warm fluid all over your lips, glasses starting to get foggy.

“Fucking hell” Bob cries out, spilling your name from his lips like a sacred mantra.

You hum, a wave of both happiness and satisfaction washing over you as you sit in front of Bob’s glory.

You let the man come down from his high, tasting salt and your boyfriend in your mouth. Before you can even clean yourself up, Bob is ripping off the dirtied glasses framing your face, and grabbing you towards him for a passionate kiss. The action makes you dizzy, your red, sore knees almost buckling under.

It’s only a while after when he pulls away, grabbing for a box of tissues near the nightstand and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry for the mess” he replies shyly, the image of this tall, naked, handsome, and yet totally awkward giant taking care of you making it all worthwhile.

“It’s okay” you reply, voice hoarse. You couldn’t help but feel happy, even if you didn’t cum (Bob would see to it later of course).

You feel him use the tissues to wipe your chin, face, and tits, or really, what was leftover after you sucked it all up like a slut.

“You’re crazy sometimes, you know that?” Bob mumbles, shaking his head as he smiles at you, his soft touch so rewarding.

You laugh, latching your arms around his neck and letting him hoist you up so easily. His semi-hard cock limps against your stomach, both of you standing up and lips pressing together in another soft kiss.

”Thank you for the most mind blowing head of my life.” He jokes.

”Thanks for the facial” you gleam, sucking your fingers with a pop that makes Bob weak, falling back down on the mattress and taking you with him so you’re straddling him again.

Bob reaches for the glasses, getting a tissue so he could wipe them before an idea pops in your head and you stop him.

You put on the glasses again. He looks up.

“Bobby, where’s the Polaroid camera?”

#oh my fuck I have done it again #dear Jesus it’s me again #fic: four eyes #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x you #top gun maverick smut #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun bob floyd #lewis pullman #lewis pullman smut #lewis pullman fluff #lewis pullman x reader #bob floyd Angst #bob floyd imagine #top gun fic #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #promising young lady : enid writes📝 #robert bob floyd

[deakyjoe]

I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)

Category: sick fic, fluff

Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.

Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.

Okay, get well soon!

It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.

It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.

To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.

Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.

It wasn't.

In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.

You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.

That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.

"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.

Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."

"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.

"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.

So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."

Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."

"Oh." That surprised you.

He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."

God, were you that easy to read?

"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."

You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"

You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.

"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.

You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."

He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."

"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.

"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"

You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.

"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"No." You sighed. "It's okay."

"Yeah, I'm making you something."

You huffed. "You really don't have to-"

"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”

You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”

Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”

You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.

“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.

“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”

"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.

"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."

Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."

He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.

He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”

“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”

“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.

“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”

The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.

So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”

His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”

You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”

Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”

You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.

“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.

He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”

You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”

You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.

He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”

You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”

“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.

“You gonna feed me?” You teased.

Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”

He was right.

“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”

“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.

You were definitely a little bit in love with him.

You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."

Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."

"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Hot.” You insisted.

"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.

He huffed out a laugh.

You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.

“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”

You scoffed. “You’re something else.”

He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.

“How you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”

Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”

You hummed and stared at him fondly.

He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.

“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.

He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”

Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”

You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”

Maybe you were a lot in love with him.

So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”

Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.

He knew you so well.

You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”

You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”

“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.

“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”

“Me too.”

Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.

Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.

A/N: And we’re back!

#bob floyd #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #ej’s writing #ej’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics

[frost-queen]

It comes with perks (Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: When you need someone to be your fake boyfriend to get you out of a situation with your ex, Hangman is the closest guy you find. What needed to be a one time thing, turned out into a long term act of fake dating. Certainly now that your dad Iceman is involved in as well. Slowly the lines of fake dating fade as Hangman becomes obessed with you, a ray of sunshine. When your ex tries to get back in your life, Jake becomes protective, finally ending those unclear lines of fake dating.

Phoenix and you entered Penny’s bar when your phone suddenly rang. Taking it out, the nametag on it made your eyes widen. You touched Phoenix on her shoulder, letting her know you needed a moment. She simply smiled, heading further into the bar to the booth were Bob, Coyote and Fanboy already were. The phone kept buzzing as you weren’t sure what to do. Panicking a bit as to say. You knew not picking up, would do nothing as he would just keep calling you.

Answering was even terrible, as you knew he’d say anything to get you to yield. Like a collective caller, kept he calling you. Looking around frantically, you spotted the first person at Penny’s bar. You rushed over to the bar, pulling Hangman back by his shoulder. – “Emergency, you’re my boyfriend.” – you breathed out, holding the phone out to him. Hangman smiled cocky. – “Well, well. If you were desperate for a kiss, you’d just had to ask Y/n.” – Hangman replied all smug to your annoyance.

“No. No! You’re not actually my boyfriend.” – you informed him hastily. Hangman furrowed his brows, frowning. – “Make up your mind girl.” – he let out confused to what was happening. You moved your phone higher up for him to notice. – “I need you to be my boyfriend and make him stop calling me!” – you called out almost frantically at how slow he was catching up.

“Right.” – He simply said, setting a beer down and taking your phone in his hand. He answered the phone, giving you a cheeky eyebrow wiggle. Hangman didn’t even listen to what the other person was saying on the phone. – “Listen bud, stop calling my girlfriend.” – he spoke through. He heard an immediate response. – “Uhm her boyfriend.” – Hangman answered, showing you a goofy look at how obvious it was who he was talking to.

The man kept blabbing in his ear as Hangman had little interest in keeping him on the phone. – “Stop calling us, bye.” – he spoke in such a manufactured voice, he could work in sales and be dealing with a terrible customer but still upholding his work voice. Hangman hung up, giving you the phone back. – “Thank you!” – you let out relieved, bending a bit through your knees out of gratitude. – “So what do I get in return?” – Hangman asked.

“This beer?” – you suggested, placing your hand on the counter by it. Hangman tsked his tongue. – “Already paid for it sunshine.” – he said with a chuckle. – “Fine.” – you breathed out. – “I’ll clean your locker.” – you took out another suggestion as Hangman thought. – “How about wash my clothes?” – he responded. – “Deal.” – you agreed it was just that. Hangman shook hands with you to seal the deal.

He picked up his beer, throwing his arm over your shoulder. – “Who was the dude anyways?” – he asked, leading you to the others. – “My ex.” – you sighed out. Hangman looked half in shock at you. – “I didn’t know you dated someone.” – he called out as you had to shush his loud voice. – “It was like 6 months ago.” – you informed him.

“And he’s still calling you?” – Hangman blurted out as you hummed with a nod as response. – “I can’t shake him off.” – you sighed out nearing the booth with your friends. – “Well good thing your boyfriend saved the day.” – Hangman winked with a ridiculous smile. – “Not my boyfriend.” – you reminded him before sitting down.

Back in the locker room, you were washing Hangman’s attire. Washing them by hand as he called them delicate and needed to be handled with care. – “Uhm what are you doing?” – Phoenix asked seeing you in the locker room as she had walked by. – “Are those Hangman’s clothing?” – she pointed out when you had pulled it up to see if it was clean enough, revealing his nametag. – “Phoenix!” – you called out startled, splashing some water as your arms lowered immediately. – “Why are you washing his clothes?” – she wanted to know. – “I owe it to him.” – you responded, scrubbing his pilot gear.

“You dared to bet with Hangman. Bold.” – she answered impressed. – “It’s not that.” – you told her with a soft sigh. – “He did something for me, so I have to return the favour.” – you explained. – “Right.” – Phoenix widened her eyes briefly in delight. – “If your dad could see you know.” – she chuckled a bit. – “He’d flip that you fell so low.” You grunted soft. – “Good thing my dad.” – you emphasized. – “Can’t see me.” – you replied bitsy. – “Ohh cold touch.” – Phoenix teased touching her own shoulder. You scooped up some water, splashing it at her to wipe that smile off her face.

Phoenix screamed, dodging away when the water came her way. Half laughing, you teasing her with another scoop as she already darted away. When you were finished up with Hangman’s uniforms, you hung them neatly to dry. You came out of the lockers, making your way out of the hangar when you got pulled aside by Rooster. He pushed you firm up against the wall. – “Are you dating Hangman?” – called out at the brink of losing his mind. – “What?” – you responded confused.

“Are you dating him?” – Rooster wanted to know with a stern look. – “What, no, no…” – you replied waving your hands across. Rooster exhaled deep moving his fingers through his hair. – “Who told you this?” – you asked curious. – “Hangman has been bragging to everyone he’s dating you.” – Rooster let you know. Your eyes widened with shock.

You pushed Rooster a bit back, to make some room for you to leave. You needed to find Hangman and you needed to find him now. Jogging out of the hangar into the open. You saw a group of people near the F16’s going over to them. The closer you got, the clearer you saw Hangman amongst them.

“Hangman!” – you shouted drawing his attention. – “Looks like my girlfriend needs me.” – he said to Fanboy and Coyote all smug. Coyote rolled with his eyes as Fanboy shook his head. Hangman turned round to you, welcoming you with a warm smile. – “Yes my love.” – he said as you grabbed him firmly by the arm, dragging him away from the others. – “So eager.” – Hangman whispered to his friends with a chuckle. You came to a stop, letting harshly go of him.

“What are you doing?” – you called out giving him a little shove. – “Au.” – Jake mouthed pretending to be hurt from your shove. – “Jake!” – you called out wanting an answer out of him. – “What?” – he replied loud, making himself taller. – “Why are you telling everyone we are dating?” – you freaked out. Jake scoffed loud, turning his head away. – “Are we not?” – he answered cocky, wanting to slip his arm over your shoulder. It made you puff annoyed, crossing your arms.

“Oh come on Y/n, don’t be such a baby about it.” – Jake said taking you by the elbow, wanting you to uncross your arms. – “It’s a joke, sunshine.” – he kept tugging at your arm, trying to be smooth and cool at the same time. – “Sunshine!” – you suddenly heard loud, making you straighten your back. Hangman’s back straightened as well. Cyclone appeared coming to you. – “Iceman wants to speak to you.” – he said firmly, making your shoulders slouch. Jake was snickering quietly at you with a little point. – “He asked for both of you!” – Cyclone made clear, making Jake’s smile drop.

You tugged on his elbow, pulling him with you. Following Cyclone inside and up the stairs to Iceman’s desk. Cyclone knocked on the door, before popping his head inside. – “They are present.” – he said to Iceman. Cyclone stepped aside, expression flat as he allowed you to walk in. – “Tell me, am I hanging?” – Jake whispered to Cyclone wanting to know his outcome. Cyclone ignored him, giving him an extra shove into the room. – “Dad!” – you said with mixed expectations, opening your arms to a hug.

Iceman got up from behind his desk, coming to hug you. – “How is my little girl?” – he asked. – “Flying and thriving.” – you told him, making him form a smile on his lips. His gaze then shifted to Jake, who swallowed nervously. Iceman got all serious. He went to sit again, gesturing for you to sit as well. Jake and you sat down, unsure what to expect. – “So you are the one dating my daughter.” – Iceman spoke. – “Dad no…” – you blurted out, waving your hands across.

Iceman observed Hangman closely as it made him move uncomfortable in the chair. – “How’s his flying?” – he asked. – “Superb… sir.” – Jake replied loudly, humbling himself immediately. Iceman glanced your way. You could only smile sheepishly at him. – “I’m a bit saddened you didn’t tell me Y/n.” – Iceman began. – “But he looks decent enough. As long as he doesn’t hurt you… or else…” – Iceman gave Hangman his death stare.

Jake swallowed again. – “Dad we’re not…” – you began wanting to explain as Jake grabbed your hand out of the blue. – “No, no sunshine, it’s okay. He knows now.” – Jake spoke upholding the image of dating. You stared confused at him, why he would even want to go on with his stupid joke. – “Jake, this is my dad.” – you said between clenched teeth to him. Making it clear that he didn’t need to mess around. – “I’m so happy for you Y/n.” – Iceman said cheery.

“The man’s happy Y/n, let him be.” – Jake said to guilt trip you. You sighed soft letting yourself fall back in the chair. Jake got up. – “Well it was nice of you to call us in, sir.” – Jake said, nudging you to get up as well. Your dad chuckled happily at his manners as you could only roll your eyes. Jake extended his hand out to Iceman. Iceman took it to shake. – “I’m not one for favours, but if you ever need one for my daughter.” – he whispered to Jake with a wink.

Jake breathed out a laugh of surprise, glancing your way. Just to rub his it more in your face. – “Now we must really go.” – Hangman spoke tapping your elbow, to get you to follow. – “Give her a kiss.” – Iceman replied. Jake’s expression dropped. – “S’cuse me?” – he blurted out. – “Give her a kiss.” – he repeated gesturing at you.

Jake looked sheepishly at you, chuckling nervously. – “Sir truly…” – Jake began wanting to talk his way out of it. – “I want to see just how much you care for my daughter.” – Iceman persisted. Hangman took your hand, pulling you closer to give a kiss on the cheek. – “Give her a real kiss!” – Iceman shouted out of good sports. Jake sighed loud with a soft drop of his gaze. You raised your eyebrow at him, curious to see what he would do. He took you by the elbow, pulling you even closer.

“Just a quick one.” – he whispered to you. – “One second.” – you responded. Hangman held his finger up to his lips, looking all smug. He lowered his finger, giving you a quick nod before he’d kiss you. Your lips touched for a split second, pulling away quick. Iceman shook his head with disappointment. – “We have to go dad!” – you called out, opening the door. Dragging Jake with you out of his office. Downstairs, you let go of Jake.

“Your joke just escalated Hangman. Now my dad knows!” – you called out panicking. – “Hey you asked me to be your boyfriend.” – Jake replied loud. – “For like a few seconds.” – you shouted back. – “You asked for this Y/n.” -  Jake answered loud taking off. – “Where are you going?” – you called out to him. Jake turned around, pulling his shoulders up. It made you groan loud.  

Phoenix and you were stretching before exercise. – “Boyfriend coming over.” – she pointed out, turning her torso, holding her arm by her elbow. You looked up seeing Hangman come over with the other boys. It made you look at her with a certain glance. Phoenix stopped, walking off when Hangman came near. She joined the others behind him. – “You know for a sunshine, you frown a lot.” – he pointed out, touching your forehead.

You slapped his hand away. He grabbed you by the shoulders, moving his head closer to you. – “Smile, your dad is going to watch.” – he whispered making you widen your eyes. Jake moved aside from you, throwing his arm over you as he led you to the others. Maverick, Cyclone and Iceman neared. You all followed Maverick to the beach for a match of rugby. A good team exercise Maverick would call it. Cyclone and Iceman sat down, watching the pathetic play of rugby.

Hangman and you were on opposite teams. Fanboy had the ball, throwing it at Coyote. Hangman jumped in front of him, catching the football before his eyes. He then ran with it to your side, throwing his hard on the ground. He called it out in victory, pointing towards Iceman. Iceman clapped for Hangman’s score. He then looked all smug at you. Phoenix nudged you as you rolled your eyes at him. Trying not to find it sweet. Rooster caught the ball wanting to throw it at you. You caught it, wanting to run when you got picked up from the ground. 

Hangman had picked you up, making you squeal loud out of surprise. Your feet hit the ground again, as he kept his arms around you. – “Try getting out of this now, sunshine.” – he breathed out. You wriggled in his grip for freedom. When you weren’t getting any, you tried running. Hangman laughed loud, squeezing his arms tighter around you. – “Where are you going sunshine?” – he laughed out. You tried so hard not to laugh as well, not to enjoy it too, but you failed.

You stopped trying to run, laughing loud. You tossed the football over to Bob. You showed him your empty hands, showing him his attempt to stop you failed. Hangman picked you up in response, making you squeal again. He then pressed a kiss on your cheek so quick, he barely caught himself doing it. You turned round in his embrace, staring a bit at him. Jake stared back at you.

Swallowing, he let go of you, scratching his neck sheepishly. You looked blissful away. The two of you hesitantly got back into the game, questioning whether you were actually starting to like each other or that it was the drive of fake dating for a while now.

After practise, you were all exhausted. Having been playing till the sun had set. Worn out, you all decided to grab a few drinks at Penny’s bar. You went up to her bar as Jake followed. Almost instinctively. You held four fingers up to Penny, ordering beer. Jake leaned with his elbows on the counter, throwing you a smug smile. Your phone vibrated in your pocket. Confused, you pulled it out holding it to the front. Jake’s eye fell on the caller, taking the phone from your hand before you could react.

He picked up, turning around to lean against the counter with his back. – “What do you want?” – he said bothered. Your ex didn’t even have to finish his sentence when Jake spoke again. – “Listen asshole, if you call her one more time. I’ll make sure you’ll never see daylight again. You won’t see me coming. I’ll fly above your house, aiming for your pathetic bedroom and you’ll be burned to crisps in a matter of seconds.” – Jake threatened making you stare in shock at him.

“She doesn’t want you cause I’m her boyfriend. She’s mine and let me tell you ass, I don’t like sharing.” – Jake said over the phone. – “This was your last call or you’re dead!” – he angrily hung up the phone. – “Thank… thank you…” – you said astonished by how hot that was. Jake tugged your phone in his pocket.

Penny arrived with the drinks as he took them, motioning with his head for you to follow. You slid into a booth with him as the others were waiting. Hangman threw an arm over your shoulder, pushing you closer to him. It made you feel like squealing. The lines of pretend and real blurring away. Jake caught you staring at him, melting as he saw you smile like the sun back at him. He moved his head closer to you, wanting to kiss you in that moment, but caught himself just in time.

He shifted his head to the side, kissing your cheek instead. It didn’t feel satisfying, but he wouldn’t dare himself to kiss you out of the blue with everyone around. Your friends were so used to the two of you dating, they hardly had any eye for it. Not clear it was all an act, started from a joke. After an hour or two, checked Jake his watch. – “I’m taking Y/n home.” – he said removing his arm from you. He got out of the booth, taking you with him.

You said goodbye to the others. Jake grabbed your hand, walking out of Penny’s bar with you. Outside he was still holding your hand as it made you snicker soft. – “No one’s watching Hangman.” – you told him. Hangman looked at you with eyes full of affection. – “I know.” – he responded, pausing you. – “Are we still faking it?” – he asked catching you by surprise. Unsure, you pulled your shoulders up. That seemed to answer Hangman enough as he cupped your cheeks, kissing your lips.

The kiss was long, anticipating the moment till he could finally kiss you. His tender kiss moved to longing and desperation as his hands grabbed you tightly. You kissed him back, fully surrendering under his spell. The lines of fake dating having been shattered long ago.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #top gun #top gun maverick #tom iceman kazansky #iceman #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman x you #hangman imagine #hangman x y/n #fake dating trope #pete maverick mitchell

[t-nd-rfoot]

MIRRORS & GLASSES aka Different Reflections

You are more than what you see in yourself.

Summary Bob gives you words of encouragement to help you feel better about yourself

Pairing Robert Floyd x reader

Theme angst, with a happy ending

Warning/s body dysmorphia; obsessive looking into mirrors

Word Count 844

Note This turned out very different from what I had planned, and it ended up being about something very close to home. Body dysmorphia is no joke, and I feel that this ficlet barely scratches the surface of how serious it can actually get, but this fic is based on part of my own experiences with it and what I choose to share of it.

And million, billion thanks to @hangmanbrainrot for being an overall amazing person and for beta reading this for me! I wouldn’t have had the courage to post this if it weren’t for you 💗

If you suffer or think you suffer from body dysmorphic disorder, please seek out help at your local healthcare provider. Reach out to loved ones that you can confide in and turn to for help. You are loved, and you are not alone in your journey. Full fic under the cut for you to read at your own discretion.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

It was a mirror. Not a magnifying glass. Not a microscope. But a mirror.

Yet all you saw were the details. The flyaway hairs that had a mind of their own. The fine hairs on your upper lip that looked even thicker today than yesterday. The shirt that hung unflatteringly on your shoulders. The pants that seemed awkwardly tight at the hips. Just to name a few.

At the back of your mind, you kept wishing that this mirror was a fake—the kind that made you look distorted like the ones at the carnival. But this was just an ordinary IKEA mirror, so it only showed you your true reflection. And there was no hiding anything when in front of a mirror.

And you hated that.

“Hey, darling. Are you ready to go?” Your boyfriend called at you from the other side of the bathroom door.

Bob. If you couldn’t stand to see yourself like this, you were even more scared to be in front of someone else—let alone, him.

“Uh, you go on ahead,” you replied as steadily as you could. You sat on the floor observing the mess you made: the makeup strewn across the counter from trying to hide the flaws you found on your face, and the piles of clothes around you after trying on multiple outfits and not feeling good in a single one.

A soft knock echoed from behind the door accompanied with an equally soft voice sounding your name. “Is everything okay?”

When you didn’t reply, Bob peeked his head inside the room and found you sitting with your back against the wall. Defeat hung on your face while frustration simmered inside you.

“Oh, honey,” he sighed and knelt in front of you, “what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Nothing works. No matter what I do or what I wear, I look like shit. I feel like shit.” On the verge of tears, you ducked your head in shame as you picked at the hem of your shirt. “I put on too much makeup, I look silly. But if I don’t, I look terrible. None of my clothes fit me right—half of them are from when I was a different size, and the other half that do fit don’t make me feel like…me.”

You let out a sad laugh. “Sorry, I know it sounds silly, me complaining about clothes and makeup…I know everyone says that you shouldn’t always rely on those things to make you feel good, and I try not to. I really try not to.” You tucked your knees to your chest, trying to hide yourself even more. “But it’s so hard to like who I am when I don’t like what I see, you know? I feel like I’m looking at a stranger; I don’t feel like myself.”

With his fingers placed gently under your chin, he lifted your head to face him, “Hey, baby,” he whispered, “look at me.” As soon as your eyes locked with his, he wiped away with the pads of his thumbs the couple of tears that managed to run down your cheeks. He wasn’t a stranger to you crying, but he’d never seen you this hurt.

“You are beautiful, okay? Even when you don’t feel like it, you are. You’re always as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside. Yeah, your body’s not gonna be the same forever, and neither will mine. But we’re still going to be us. And through all those changes, I promise you, I will love those new parts of you just as much as I love the old ones. And I hope you’ll love those parts of you, too, even more than I do right now.”

As he spoke, you saw your reflection in the lens of his glasses. You saw your messy hair, your tear-stained face, and your rumpled clothes. But behind your reflection, there was no mistaking of the safety, assurance, and love you saw in Bob’s eyes. And when he looked at you like that, he was looking at everything, more than what a mirror could ever show.

“And honestly, darling, I happen to think you look good in anything,” he announced, making a small laugh and smile escape your lips, “not that what I think should matter, but I just want to point the truth out to you. Whether you’re in your baggiest sweats or your tightest dress, you take my breath away.”

You leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger in sincere gratitude.

“Thank you, Robby,” you sighed, letting his speech wash over you.

“You’re very welcome, baby.” He returned your kiss with his own on your forehead. “One thing’s for sure.”

“What is?” you asked.

Bob placed his hand on your back, motioning you to move forward. He sat behind you, his legs at your sides, and his arms wrapped around you in the biggest bear hug you’ve ever received.

“There’s always one place you’re gonna fit in: right here in my arms.”

Disclaimer  I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

Edited layout

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fic #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd fanfic #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fanfic #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd #bob fanfiction #bob x reader #bob fic #bob top gun #top gun bob

[roosterbruiser]

Bob and AdmiralsDaughter!Reader where the dagger squad finds out he's dating/engaged/married (whichever)

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 @bradshawsbitch 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱!!!

𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬

𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

"Yeah, the little white one is Pearl," you excitedly tell the Dagger Squad as you scroll through the photos of your newest foster kittens. "And the little brown tabby is Poppy!"

You're leaning over a table in the training room, grinning ear-to-ear as you show off the billion pictures you've taken of the sweet little kittens that have been consuming your life.

The squad is doing everything in their power to show interest in the photos, swallowing yawns and making over-exaggerated nodding motions when you turn to look for their approval. It isn't just that they love you and genuinely wouldn't want to seem uninterested in something so important to you, but it's also that your dad could have their heads mounted on the walls if they so much as upset you.

You're a Simpson--Cyclone's only daughter and youngest child--but you couldn't be more opposite of your father. You're a bubbly person by nature, someone who could talk to a brick wall. You're the kind of person that could ruin their favorite jeans and still somehow have a good day.

Rooster and Phoenix have their arms crossed as you scroll through the endless pictures, one blurry picture of a little kitten to the next. But they adore you--you're grinning so big that you could light up a dark room. So they keep watching, smiling and nodding.

Bob's watching from across the room very subtly. At this point, the two of you have mastered subtly. As much as he wishes he could be one of the people that crowds around you to look at kitten pictures, he knows that he wouldn't be able to help himself from getting a little too close to you. He doesn't think he'd be able to stop himself from pecking your cheek or wrapping his arm around your waist. So he doesn't go out of his way to be overly affectionate to you when he sees you around on base, which is often. He's Bob, which means he's overtly polite and overly-nice, and he treats you the same as he'd treat anyone else on base. But it's these little stolen glances that keeps him going throughout the day--just ticking the minutes until the day is over and he can go home to you and your kittens. There he can do whatever he damn well pleases with you without having to worry about prying eyes.

"Oh, and just look at this video I got of Poppy..." you laugh, scrolling quickly through your camera roll in search of a video of Poppy trying to climb the sofa.

Your heart jumps in your throat when you pass the picture. It's quick, really, just a fleeting image across your screen. But you know what it is: it's the picture you took of Bob napping with the kittens the other day. It's unmistakably Bob, too, despite his stubble and un-gelled hair. You're praying no one else saw it, praying that everyone's lost interest by now.

But you have six of some of the world's greatest Fighter Pilots around you, watching your phone with their eagle-eyes. Nothing really gets past them.

"Wait," Hangman interrupts, pointing to the phone with furrowed brows. "Go back."

The rest of the squad makes a sound of agreement and you try to stutter something back, something that resembles an excuse, but then Rooster is reaching out himself and swiping back through the photos.

The chorus of gasps that fill the room draw Bob out of his trance. He looks away from where your fingers are curled around your phone and sees that all six of his squad-mates are staring at him with their jaws slacked and their eyes wide. Except Hangman--no, he's grinning ear-to-ear. You're already looking at Bob, too, apologetically grimacing and mouthing I'm so sorry to him.

"Bob Floyd," Phoenix starts lowly, glancing down at the picture again. Her voice is stained with disbelief--how could she have missed you and Bob? She loved both of you so much and Hell, she even trusted Bob with her life. How could she have not known before?

"You sly, sly dog," Coyote says, grinning, clapping you on the shoulder.

"Simpson's daughter?" Fanboy adds, like you aren't standing right there. "Floyd, you animal!"

What the squadron doesn't know is that your father is actually quite fond of Bob--he even insists that Bob call him Beau. They've shared a couple glasses of good scotch and Simpson has even invited Bob to play golf a couple of Sunday's. Really, your relationship is only a secret from the squadron--and you feel vindicated for making that decision as you watch all of them scramble to pat Bob on the shoulder.

"Well, I'll be damned," Rooster whistles with an impressed grin, squeezing your arm. "You and Bobby Floyd."

You're blushing something fierce, watching as Bob flushes at all the sudden attention, not confident enough to stand while the boys ruffle his hair.

"Guess the cat's out of the bag," Bob finally manages to say, laughing dryly at his poorly-timed pun.

Payback grins at you.

"You're a lucky lady, aren't you?"

The truth is you are a lucky lady. You and Bob have been together for longer than any of the squadron would ever guess, carefully tip-toeing around base when you see each other to not draw attention to situation. Bob makes your coffee every morning and you adopt kittens together. You iron Bob's uniform because you used to do it for your father and you think Bob is just as important. You dance on sunlit porches and share good wine with your family on Saturday nights after big dinners. Bob's the best person you've ever met.

And Bob knows that really, he's the lucky one here. Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to the world--period. You're funny, like the kind of funny that has him laughing before the sun's even come up and he didn't think that was possible. You still get excited every time he comes home, racing to the foyer and smashing your lips against his as you chatter about your day and help him unlace his boots. You're the kind of person that will bottle-feed kittens every two hours and not so much as complain about it, not even when the feedings are at three in the morning.

The two of you are totally and completely in love--you have been for a while. But, yes, Bob's right: the cat is out of the bag now.

"I am a lucky lady," you tell Payback, locking your phone and making your way over to Bob with a sweet, sweet smile.

here is my tag list!!

𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐊𝐨𝐟𝐢 ☺

#bobfucks #it is bob #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd smut #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fic #bob x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x y/n #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x y/n #bob top gun #bob floyd blurb #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd fluff

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 25

(Ch. 24) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: "Friendship isn't a big thing– it's a million little things."

A/N: Here it is, y'all! 💖

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @indigo-luvers @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu

Contemporary: November 20th, 1944. Resistance Safehouse, Signy-l’Abbaye, France.

She had been told that her confinement in the dilapidated cabin was for her own protection but Alix was almost certain that the real purpose was to drive her mad enough that even if she were to be captured, she’d have nothing useful to say. 

And it was working, the agent thought as she flipped aimlessly through Wuthering Heights for the umpteenth time. 

She was going to go out of her mind.

No one in the OSS knew where the leak had come from meaning that everyone was now under suspicion, so the only conceivable solution had been to tuck Alix away somewhere verifiably secure until the source was discovered. 

Her sole contact with the outside world came in the form of visits from Captain Nixon, who was the very picture of maladaptive coping mechanisms as he collapsed into a beaten-in armchair by the fireplace with a drink in-hand. 

"Any word on Jen– I mean, Agent Perrault?" Alix inquired hopefully but her handler shook his head.

"Not since the last time you asked. Sorry to say but I wouldn't get your hopes up." 

He gave a sympathetic grimace before reminding her gently,

"MIA usually means captured or dead." 

"'Usually'," Alix insisted doggedly. 

"But not always. There's still a chance she's alive somewhere, waiting it out." 

Her case officer's expression was strained but he said nothing, opting to take a swig of his drink instead of discouraging her any further. 

There was a beat of comfortable silence between the pair and Alix picked at the shoddy couch-cushions beneath her leg with a chipped nail. 

She desperately wanted to ask about Joe but she knew better. 

She would play it cool.

"So what'd I miss? How is everyone?" she inquired casually but her handler let out a snort.  

"You mean, how's 'Joey' ?"

One of the many downsides of being friendly with an intelligence officer, Alix thought ruefully: They Know Too Much. 

 "A loose cannon, that's how he is," Nixon answered himself before taking a gulp of what was undoubtedly whiskey in his flask. 

"He's worried as Hell about you and he's taking it out on anybody within arm's reach. Not to mention, he keeps trying to weasel SITREPs out of me like your status and location aren't strictly Classified." 

The captain shook his head with a grudging, mirthless smirk.

"Have to say, I admire his tenacity but I swear to Christ, I'm half-tempted to put a rush on your paperwork just so I can get some goddamn sleep and Dick can have his best interrogator back. Liebgott's no good to anybody like this and don't we all know it."

Joe was worried about her? 

Alix didn't know what to say. 

Why should he be? 

Shouldn't he be relieved that he didn't have to tie up their inconvenient affair with a neat little bow?

But her conflicted musings were interrupted by the crinkling of cardboard. 

Nonchalantly fishing a small, rectangular snack box out of his pocket, Nixon tossed it over to her with an exaggerated sigh of reluctance. 

“From Muck again,” he elaborated as she caught it, as if she didn’t already know. 

Skip had made it a habit of saving his fruit bars for her. He had told her case officer that it was because he was bored of apricot but Alix knew for a fact that was a lie.

It had started long before that.

╔══ •🖤🖤•🖤🖤•🖤🖤• ══╗

9 Months Ago: February 5th, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

“Hey Doc, is it normal to lose feeling in your legs?" Alix wheezed as she and the rest of the company made the final trudge up the hill to their makeshift campsite. 

"Because I think mine have died." 

“Lucky you,” Don groaned from behind her as he plopped down onto the dirt.

“Mine feel like they're on fire.”

"Mais ya, Pyro," Roe answered as he settled across from her on the ground, swiping some sweat off his forward with his sleeve. 

"We jus' did an all-night hike an' on empty stomachs, no less. Perfectly normal to feel numb, I reckon." 

"Enjoy it," Penkala advised as he took a seat on the empty patch of grass next to Eugene. 

"After the Charley horse I got in Mile 9, I'd welcome some numbness right about now."

From a little ways away, Alix saw Skip Muck– their other best friend– shifting from foot to foot anxiously as he waited in line to speak to Captain Sobel.

As the only NCO in their friend group, it was Skip's job to report their times on each excursion. 

Alix was reasonably confident in their speed– especially on nighttime hikes which were a lot less grueling than in the blistering heat of the day– but Muck always did his best to pad their times anyway to avoid anyone getting in trouble. 

That was just the sort of person he was and Alix was eternally grateful.

The blond mimed dramatically shooting himself with his finger-gun as he waited for the unfortunately long-winded Mike Ranney to finish handing in his group's times and she let out a small giggle behind her hand.  

"Wonder if he'll be done by noon," Don snickered, voicing her own thoughts and Alix shrugged.

"We can dream," she joked as she began to unbox her breakfast unit. "But I'm too famished to wait any longer." 

"Agreed," Alex Penkala chimed in and the usual bartering began. 

"Hey Penk, I'll trade you my Pork & Eggs for your cereal bar," Alix piped up hopefully but the brown-haired trooper sat forward and squinted, his green eyes skeptically taking in Alix's offering.

"That's what that's s'posed to be?" he asked, seeming genuinely horrified. "Are you sure?" 

The Italian's weak nod was the only confirmation he needed to cement his decision.

"Nie, sorry," Penkala answered, partially in Polish and partially in English. 

Alix sighed but at least he had the decency to look somewhat apologetic. 

"Maybe another day?" he added as the spy turned to the friend seated on her left side. 

"What about you, Mal? Pork and eggs for half your biscuits?" she offered but Don jokingly shielded his crackers in response. 

"Fat chance," the redhead quipped. "These are getting drenched in coffee, soon as it's done."

"I'll remember this the next time you ask me for a Wrigley's," Alix teased before turning to the medic across the way, whose dark blue eyes were already fixed on her. 

"How about you, Gene? Up for a trade?"

She held up the tin with a hopeful smile so the medic could view the breakfast ration within but he shook his head apologetically. 

"Uh…'fraid I gotta pass on that," he responded, shooting her a sympathetic grimace as he eyed the tin. 

"It don' look fit for human consumption."

Roe wasn't wrong. 

The medic's prepackaged block of oatmeal had to be soaked in water from his canteen until it was an almost slop-like consistency the color of wet cement but it still looked better than the culinary monstrosity sitting before her in her own tin. 

Using her fork as a poking stick, Alix lightly prodded the chalky egg yolk, hoping to find an angle at which it might at least look a little bit appetizing but found none.

The blocks of pork were so solid that she could hardly get her fork through them and she found herself thinking wistfully of home. 

When she was home for breaks in Chestnut Hill, Penny would make the most incredible Irish breakfast known to man every morning – the fluffiest golden eggs, the most mouthwatering sausage accompanied by the scent of sizzling bacon and bread so fresh that you could hear the melodious crackle of the crust. 

Just the thought of it was making her stomach growl but her musings were interrupted when Doc Roe reached out from across the way and plunked 4 of his 8 biscuits onto her tray with a shy smile. 

"Ya can have 'em for free though, if ya want 'em, che– er, Pyro," he corrected quickly with an awkward cough before adding, "Hope they help." 

Alix beamed back at him. 

"Gene, you're a real peach, do you know that?" 

The tips of the medic's ears turned bright pink and he replied with a "De Rien" so soft that she barely heard it. 

Taking a bite of one of the biscuits, Alix let out a sudden yelp of pain as one of her molars connected with the rock-solid bread. 

"Cazzo! I think it chipped my tooth!"

"That's why you soak 'em first, genius," a familiar voice bubbled from behind her and Alix turned to greet her other best friend. 

"Well well, look what the cat finally dragged in," she remarked playfully as she scooted to make room for Skip in their little circle. 

"Christ, Skipper, did you get lost?" Don piped up in-between mouthfuls of soggy cracker.

"Nope, can't afford to," the blond replied with his trademark glowing grin and unflagging positivity, even as he settled cross-legged into the dirt. 

"Somebody's gotta keep you two outta the nuthouse." 

Eagerly pulling his breakfast unit onto his lap, Skip began sorting through the goods and Alix peeked over his shoulder.

It seemed like that day, only Skip had anything actually worth eating: a Dromedary Bar.

As he slowly peeled back the cellophane, the blond took a second to admire the tropical fruit concoction in his hands and Alix's stomach rumbled enviously. 

"Hungry?" he inquired as he began to worm the bar out of its packaging and Alix sighed wistfully. 

"Starving." 

Flicking out his pocketknife, the blond sawed the bar into two neat halves before scarfing his portion down and gallantly offering the second to his friend.

"You're a saint, Skipper," she proclaimed with a grateful grin as she eagerly wolfed down her half of the sweet treat. 

"Nah," he chuckled modestly, wiping his juice-stained hands off on his ODs. "Just looking out for family."  

“Bon Dieu,” Eugene had marveled from his seat across from them, shaking his head in quiet bemusement at the pair who had both already finished their sections of the bar. 

“Remind me not to let y’all near my mama’s beignets when she send 'em!”

That had been the moment when Joe passed by. 

It had started off innocuous enough, just another paratrooper admiring the scenery with his friends, those beautiful russet eyes roving the English landscape around them when they met hers and Alix’s heart thudded in her chest.

The electricity of the unspoken seemed to crackle in the air between them like a lightning storm, so much heat in one glance that it made her cheeks flush like a wild rose. 

For a brief second, a conflicted expression flashed across his face and Alix remembered the thought in her mind clear as day: 

Two months. 

It had been two months.

Joe looked as if he wanted to say something but before he could get it out, one of his best friends– Popeye, she remembered– had distracted him, babbling on and on about their future return to civilization in the coming days. 

Alix had never seen Joe appear less enthused. As he was being led away to where the rest of his friends were sitting, he took one last look over his shoulder at her, as if trying to commit her features to memory, as if gathering strength to stay away.

But why?

Two months, Alix remembered thinking sadly as she had watched the handsome paratrooper disappear. It had been two months since-

╚══ •🖤🖤•🖤🖤•🖤🖤• ══╝

The sound of snapping fingers dragged Alix from her memories like a vaudeville cane and when she looked up, she glimpsed a half-concerned, half-amused Lewis Nixon staring back at her from his spot in the armchair.

"Welcome back," he remarked and Alix let out a snort of derision, shrugging off his bemusement as she silently grappled with her thoughts.

Why did the memory of seeing Joe all those months ago make her brain burn? Why did that cryptic phrase echo in her mind: Two months. Two months since what?!

Shaking her head to clear it, the spy focused instead on lifting the ration box's lid and delicately unwrapping the cellophane in her lap.

“Jesus Christ, Nix, nice of you to save me some," she commented dryly, inspecting the remains of a crumbled chocolate bar with a cocked eyebrow.  

“Consider it repayment for making me your goddamn mailman,” Nixon deadpanned and Alix rolled her eyes. 

“Well if I was allowed outside, I wouldn’t have to have a mailman, now would I?”

“Not this again,” the intelligence officer groaned, holding up his hands in an exaggerated display of helplessness.

"I'm sorry I said anything!" 

But it was too late; the floodgates had opened and Alix was already launching into her spiel. 

“Nix, it’s been weeks,” she griped, slamming a free hand onto the moth-eaten sofa cushion beside her for emphasis. 

“I can’t take much more of this shit! I’m tired of twiddling my fucking thumbs while there’s a war going on out there!” 

“You’re preaching to the choir," her case officer said dryly, picking at a twig stuck to his fatigues. 

"As soon as your new cover's been backstopped, you'll be the second to know, I swear. So give it a rest, okay?" 

A beat of silence ensued and Alix wished fervently that she'd been allowed a radio so she could listen to music. 

But alas, a radio signal was too dangerous.

There was no swing jazz on Earth that was worth being found by the Gestapo.

"Have you heard anything about my next assignment?" she probed curiously and the flicker of recognition in his eyes told her he had. 

"That's 'Need To Know'," he replied evasively, casting a glance onto the worn-in floorboards. "And you don't, not yet." 

Alix huffed impatiently and strained to reach the knife set by her shoulder on the side-table.

Flexing her fingers around the grip, she gave it a leisurely throw just behind Nixon's shoulder at the faded red target on the wall with a THWACK causing him to duck in alarm.

"God, Runt, could you not do that please?" her handler snapped as Alix sent another sailing over his shoulder, the blade whizzing through the air and sinking into the target with another THWACK! 

"It's unsettling."

"Is it?" Alix cocked an eyebrow with a smirk, flinging her last knife at the target, the sharp metal sinking into the center with one final, satisfying THWACK! 

"My apologies." 

"You don't sound very sorry," Captain Nixon grumbled. "But you're going to be in a minute."

Digging into the canvas rucksack he'd placed on the floor earlier, the officer retrieved a hefty stack of paperwork and handed them over the coffee table to her.

"More notes, to be typed into complete reports by 8:00 tomorrow morning. And that's an order." 

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Nix," Alix commented sardonically over her shoulder, as she rose from the sofa and crossed to the faded black typewriter resting on the kitchen table.

"They can't keep me cooped up here forever. Soon, you'll have to type up your own fucking notes when I'm in the field again." 

"Well you're not there yet, hotshot," Nixon snorted derisively, the corners of his lips quirking up into a grudging smirk. 

"So get to work.

#Band of Brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #BoB fandom #BoB fanfic #BoB fanfiction #Joe Liebgott #Joe Liebgott x OC #Joe Liebgott x reader #Joe Liebgott x Alix Martinelli #Joelix #Eugene Roe #Eugene Roe x OC #Eugene Roe x reader #Roelix #HBO War #HBO band of brothers #Don Malarkey #Skip Muck #We live for Skip Muck in this house 😌🤌🏼💖 #Donald Malarkey #Love Triangle #retrograd amnesia #espionage fanfic #BoB #Warren Muck #Lewis Nixon

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Hands to Yourself - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

This work, all my works, and my blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Pregnancy; Touchiness; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Physical Description, No Y/N

Summary: Bob can't keep his hands to himself after he finds out his wife is pregnant.

Master List

It was impossible to tell just looking at you, but you were just around eight weeks pregnant. And the only people on the planet who knew were you, your doctor, and your husband Bob. And frankly you wanted to keep it that way for now. It just felt that much more special to hold that news.

The only problem? Your husband.

Bob wasn’t huge on PDA, but ever since you found out that you were pregnant, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You would just be standing there and he would come up and rest his hands on your belly as he asked you about your day. If he stopped just a little too harshly while driving, he dropped his hand down to your belly just in case. If you were simply chatting with friends, he would slowly wrap his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your belly.

And you didn’t mind his sudden touchiness. You loved your husband and you might have had a slight personal obsession with his hands for most of your relationship. And you were more than thrilled that he was excited to be a dad and was very much there to support you.

But you didn’t want to give the secret away. Not yet.

Standing with the Dagger Squad and their significant others, you chatted with Phoenix as Bob returned with your ginger ale. You thanked him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning back to your conversation with Phoenix. And before you could even finish your sentence, you felt Bob’s hand snaking around to rest on your belly and pull you subtly back against his chest.

“Can’t let her get too far from you,” Phoenix joked to her backseater, who shrugged in response. “Afraid she might run off?”

“Just love my wife, Phoenix. That a crime?”

“Not at all,” Phoenix drawled, glancing between the two of you suspiciously as she sipped at her beer. “Just an observation.”

Phoenix walked off, being called in to referee some stupid argument between Hangman and Rooster, leaving you and Bob alone. Threading your fingers through his own, you turned and slowly slipped his hand off of your belly.

“You’re going to give it away, Bobby,” you whined playfully, causing Bob to grin at you.

“I’m sorry, darling. It’s just instinct.”

“Just a few more weeks, okay?” you promised, resting your hand on your husband’s chest. “And then you can scream it to the world as loud as you want.”

“I plan on it,” Bob assured you, causing you to smile and press a kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. And you two,” Bob replied with a wink, causing you to shake your head playfully.

“Am I going to have to listen to terrible dad jokes for the rest of my life now?”

“Small price to pay,” Bob stated, pressing a kiss to your head.

The rest of the night wound down and you and Bob eventually moved to make your exit. Walking inside to the bar, you moved to pay your tab. While you chatted with Penny, Bob came up from behind you and wrapped his hand around, resting it directly on your non-existent bump. He pressed a kiss to your head and told you he had to grab something for Fanboy before walking off.

And when you turned back to Penny, you shrunk a bit at her knowing expression.

“Please don’t tell anyone. It’s still early,” you pleaded, causing her to smile a bit wider.

“Tell anyone what?”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, waving goodbye to Penny before moving to locate your husband. The two of you walked back to the car and within seconds, Bob’s hand was planted firmly on your belly once again, causing you to nudge him in the side. “Penny knows.”

“Knows what?” Bob asked innocently, causing you to shoot him a look. Placing your hand over his own, you motioned with your head down towards your belly, causing Bob to smile a bit sheepishly. “I’m sorry, darling, I just can’t help myself.”

“I know, Bobby. It’s okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Bob promised, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Yeah?” you replied, grinning up at your husband. “How?”

“I think the usual options will do,” Bob returned with a wink as the two of you reached the car. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Bob reached over and grabbed the door for you. “Take your pick.”

“Oh, I will,” you mused, slipping into the car.

A.N. Why did I pick Bob for the whole hands idea? No reason. None at all.

Okay maybe there was a reason.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob x you #bob x reader #bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob fluff

[writingdumpster]

secret wife part two

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings: none

summary: part two to secret wife, accessible through my navigation, pinned to my profile.

word count: 1.7k

You were in the kitchen of your North Island rental, zipping around as you prepared dinner for the dagger squad. You had lemon bars in the oven and chicken cooking on the stove. Bob had mentioned to you that he’d shared your lemon bars with Phoenix before and they were Daisy’s favorite as well. Daisy was Bob’s sister. She was just one year younger than him and she’d become a close friend of yours since meeting her. When you’d invited her to dinner you told her to dress nicely because you wanted to take a photo for your instagram with her. You didn’t tell her about Bob’s friends coming and you certainly didn’t tell her how you thought Hangman would be perfect for her after only a few stories about him from Bob. Bob was quietly laying plates and silverware out, stacking napkins beside them as you arranged your counter for the guests to serve themselves. 

“Can you go get that, Robby?” You asked as you heard the first knock on the door. Bob went to answer the door and Daisy came bounding in. 

“Where is that beautiful wife of yours, Bob?” She asked with a smile.  

“What? No ‘Hello, Bob; Nice to see you?’ Just ‘where’s my wife?’” Bob teased. 

“That’s exactly right, Bobby Boy. Is she in the kitchen while you sit around?” Daisy asked as she toed off her shoes and headed for the kitchen. 

“Hey, y/n,” Daisy greeted as she walked in. She came in and took in all the food you’d made. “Is it more than just me?” She asked. 

“Some of Robby’s friends are coming over too,” you told her. “The ones who went on the mission with him.” 

“Oh, that’s great,” Daisy said with a smile. “Do you want any help?” She offered as there was another knock on the door. Bob went to go answer it and let Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy into the house. Fanboy had a bouquet of flowers with him. 

“You brought flowers?” Bob asked when he opened the door. 

“I told you it was weird, man,” Payback said. 

“You’re not supposed to show up to someone’s home empty handed,” Fanboy grumbled. 

“No, y/n will love it. The ones I bought her last week are dying,” Bob said. Fanboy smiled slightly. Rooster was striding up the steps to your house just as Coyote walked through the doorway. He had a bottle of wine in his hand and he handed it to Bob. 

“I told you it’s not weird to bring something,” Fanboy hissed at Payback. 

“That’s wine, not flowers. It’s a little weird,” Coyote piped in. 

“It’s not weird. It’s nice,” Bob assured Fanboy as he led his friends into the kitchen. You turned to see your new guests led by Bob with flowers and a bottle of wine in hand.

“Aw, who brought flowers?” You asked with a smile. 

“Fanboy,” Bob said. 

“That’s so nice,” you said as you took them. Bob placed the bottle of wine on the counter and went looking for the opener. Fanboy stuck his tongue out at Payback when you turned around which only earned him an eye roll in return. You began placing the flowers in a vase when there was one last knock at the door. Bob opened the door to welcome Phoenix and Hangman into your home. He instructed them to take off their shoes and then ushered them into your kitchen. You looked over at Daisy the moment you saw it was Hangman who had arrived. You watched as her eyes widened and a tiny smile spread across her lips. You smirked to yourself. 

“Right on time,” you greeted your newest guests. “Serve yourselves. Don’t be shy,” you said as you stepped aside. Rooster was the first to pick up a plate, giving himself a generous serving of the chicken you had made. The rest of Bob’s friends lined up, but Phoenix approached you before she grabbed a plate. 

“Bob told me you were going to make the lemon bars I like,” Phoenix said quietly. Her confidence was a bit shaky. She wanted you to like her. Bob had quickly become her best friend and she was worried that he hadn’t told her about you because you wouldn’t like her. She handed you a small gift bag. “I um, made this for you,” she told you. You opened the bag to find a hand knit scarf in your favorite colors. 

“This is so sweet. Thank you!” You said with a smile. 

“I know you’ll be back in Lemoore soon and it doesn’t get that cold there, but um,” Phoenix glanced down at her hands. “I thought maybe you and Bob could visit me in Norfolk sometime.” You smiled warmly. 

“That sounds wonderful,” you said as you pulled her into a hug. “I’m glad Robby has you,” you told her when you pulled away. 

“Yeah, me too,” she agreed with a smile. 

“Now go grab a plate before the boys eat everything,” you told her. You turned back and noticed that Hangman was seating himself beside Daisy. You’d managed to squeeze enough chairs around the dining room table. You settled across from Daisy once you’d gotten your own food. Bob kissed the top of your head as he took the seat beside you. Coyote, Rooster, and Payback were already eating but Fanboy sat there anxiously waiting for you and Bob to sit before he took a bite. 

“You didn’t have to wait for us,” Bob said as he took his first bite. 

“I told you,” Coyote teased before shoving another piece of chicken into his mouth.

“This is delicious,” Rooster gushed to you. 

“Don’t tell my mom, but this is the best food I’ve ever had,” Payback agreed. You thanked them with a smile. When everyone had eaten they all agreed that Bob must have fallen in love with you because of your cooking. 

“The cooking is great, but all she had to do was smile at me and I was hers,” Bob said as he took your hand upon the table. Phoenix smiled to herself, glad that her friend was so happy. 

“Robby and I will get this cleaned up. I’ve got dessert for all of you too,” you said. Fanboy and Phoenix quickly volunteered to help with the dishes. Daisy started to rise as well but you stopped her. “Relax. I’ve got enough help tonight,” you said before throwing an encouraging look towards Hangman. Hangman glanced over at Daisy. He started to open his mouth to introduce himself, but his breath caught in his throat. He cleared his throat roughly and then turned to her. 

“I’m Hang—” He stopped himself. “I’m Jake,” he told Daisy. Bob met your eye and you held in a laugh before you retreated to the kitchen. 

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” Daisy said with a smile. “I’m Daisy.” Jake couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. This wasn’t his signature cocky smirk though. This was a lovesick smile–one that was dripping with admiration and awe.

“Bob didn’t tell any of us he had a sister,” Jake said. Daisy smiled. 

“He doesn’t tell anybody anything,” she said. “He’s always been quiet.”

“And what about you?” Jake asked. “Did you take after your big brother?” Daisy laughed. 

“Not even a little bit,” she said. “I’m the family rebel,” she told Jake. 

“Let me guess…you went through an emo phase,” Jake guessed. 

“Oh, is it that obvious?” Daisy asked. 

“No, Bob puts on a playlist in the locker room sometimes and I know he doesn’t know anything besides country music. It’s got to be because of you,” he said. 

“Aw, my Bobby Boy still listens to my playlists?” Daisy asked. 

“I guess so,” Jake said with a smile. 

“He always liked the country. It’s how we grew up,” Daisy said. “I like to expand my tastes beyond just what played on the local radio when he drove us to school though.”

“I like country music,” Jake said. “But I’m mostly into classic rock,” he finished. Daisy smiled. 

“Bob says you play ‘Slow Ride’ on the jukebox everytime you go to some bar with him,” Daisy said. Jake blushed. 

“What else does he say about me?” Jake asked. 

“He told me you remind him of me,” she said. Jake grinned. 

“Do you like concerts?” He asked. Daisy smiled shyly. 

“Yeah, live music is great,” she said. 

“There’s a bar downtown that has bands play on Friday nights,” Jake spit out quickly. “Maybe…um, maybe I could take you?” He offered. 

“I don’t see why not,” she said with a smile. Jake grinned. 

“Great. That’s great,” he said, unable to wipe the grin off his face as he looked into her eyes. 

“I’ll give you my phone number before you leave,” she promised. Just then you walked back into the dining room with a tray of lemon bars, Bob trailing behind you with a fresh stack of plates. Everyone ate the lemon bars, throwing compliments your way with every bite. The dagger squad happily stayed to enjoy the night before Bob finally shooed Rooster out of his house, still remaining as he ate all of Bob’s leftovers. Bob turned back to you as he closed the door. You smiled warmly. He crossed the entryway and wrapped his arms around your waist. You raised your arms to rest on his taught chest. 

“I like your friends, Robby,” you told him. Bob smiled and kissed your nose.

“Your little scheme with Hangman seemed like it worked,” Bob commented. 

“You’re the one who told me that if I wanted Daisy to be stationed with us he was the best shot,” you reminded him. Bob chuckled. 

“He couldn’t stop smiling at her,” Bob said. “I’ve never seen him look at a girl like that at The Hard Deck.” 

“That’s because he was looking at her the way you look at me,” you said. Bob smiled softly. 

“And how’s that?” He asked. 

“Like I’m the only thing you care about,” you said. Bob grinned. He leaned down and kissed you lovingly. His lips were warm and strong against yours and you let out a small hum of satisfaction as he leaned away. 

“That’s because you are.”

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