#bob floyd x oc

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

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

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

Length: 5300 words

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

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

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

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

"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take some leftovers!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"After you," he said softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bob."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, Dr. Webber."

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course they are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anna."

All that did was make her kiss him harder again.

"Please."

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

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

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

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

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

She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."

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

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

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics #bob floyd fic

[attapullman]

Who's ready for...

We all love our bespectacled WSO who you know goes to town on your body, so why not celebrate him a little? Bob smut is actually good for the soul, I know I'm not a doctor.

Celebrate the first and best month of the year (culminating in our sweet Lew's birthday) by writing a little bow chicka wow wow for our sweetest aviator.

post credit: @laracrofted

Rules:

must be 18+ to participate!!

send me an ask/message to let me know you're participating!

use the tag #International Bob Floyd Fucks Month

tag/message me when you've posted

post by January 31st (or later - it's healthy to also celebrate IBFF Year)

So excited to read everyone's fics and see what dirty deeds you get up to!

IBFF Masterlist

That's Mine | @attapullman

awards season | @bobgasm

Hey Jealousy | Pride, Prejudice, and Flyboys | @sorchathered

the legend of the great wizard bobernius | @yanna-banana

do you wanna make somethin' of it | @theharddeck

Change of Plans | @bradshawsbaby

Head In The Clouds | @jungle-angel

steamy shower fun | @ryebecca

Explicitly Yours | @roosterforme

Bragging Rights | @rockstxr-x

color up my skies | @thiswaytwoinfinity

Call Out Our Names | @lenafromthenordiccoven

Saltburn AU | @callsign-phoenix

Ruin the Friendship | @withahappyrefrain

Bob takes care of you after a long day | @whisperofsong

Sex on The Beach (What a Treat) | @startrekfangirl2233-writes

Wolfish | @delopsia

When the Stars Align | @mynameismckenziemae

#international bob floyd fucks month #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fan fic #writing prompt

[bobfloydsbabe]

gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: ~0.5k

A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!

UPDATE: ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.

Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.

“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.

She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.

“Right,” she agrees.

He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.

She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”

He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”

She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”

Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”

“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”

Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.

“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”

The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.

likes are nice, comments and reblogs are golden

TAGLIST: @blue-aconite, @sylviebell, @wkndwlff, @ryebecca, @sebsxphia, @rhettabbotts, @lewmagoo, @ereardon, @anniesocsandgeneralstore, @desert-fern, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @cherrycola27, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @atarmychick007, @yanna-banana, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @gizmodear, @hangmanapologist, @thedroneranger, @soulmates8, @withakindheartx, @eternallyvenus, @kmc1989, @bcarolinablr, @memeorydotcom, @dempy, @withahappyrefrain, @bradshawsbitch, @daisiesandinvasives, @teacupsandtopgun, @laracrofted

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x oc #professor bob floyd #professor bob #professor au #dark academia au #top gun maverick #tgm #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd angst #madebyme #writtenbyme #mywriting #helena writes #lewis pullman

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Full of Surprises - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by @galaxy-of-stories's post

pairing: Lt. Robert Floyd x reader

warnings/content: virgin!bob x fem reader, oral (f receiving), p in v, swearing, hangman actually being a decent friend towards bob.

word count: 3k

minors dni below the cut

Bob chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he watched you from across the beach, his dark blue eyes watching you intensely from behind his wire framed glasses. He rarely took part in off-base activities with the rest of the Dagger squad, but today, he’d been coaxed out by Rooster and Phoenix to join the team for a relaxing beach day. What he didn’t know though, was that you would be there. You were Maverick’s niece, and Bob had pretty much instantly fallen for you. Smart, funny, beautiful and friendly - Bob thought you were the whole package. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever you spoke about something you were interested in, the way your cheeks blushed whenever Maverick and Rooster started reminiscing about your childhood, having grown up playing with Rooster on occasion when you were little, and he loved the way you were so outgoing, and so unlike him. He always hated his incurable shyness, the fact that he struggled so hard to come out of his shell, he resented it, especially now that it made it next to impossible for him to hold a conversation with you. 

“Hey, Baby-on-Board, you coming?” 

Bob turned his head around to face one of the pilots on his squad, Hangman, calling over to him. Bob rolled his eyes at the nickname Hangman had given him and shook his head quickly, his cheeks turning red again. He prayed that the UV rays were strong enough that day that he could lie and say the reddening of his face was due to too much sun exposure, but he knew that wasn’t likely going to work as an excuse on anyone, much less Hangman. The tall blonde pilot raised an eyebrow at Bob as he folded his arms over his broad chest. 

“Jeez, Bagman, don’t you ever wear a shirt?” Bob laughed dryly as he poked fun at Hangman, who had long ditched his t-shirt to show off his sunkissed skin, trying desperately to attract any female attention he could get on the beach.

“Hey, at least I don’t keep mine on the whole time at the beach.” Hangman shrugged as he sat down on the sand beside Bob. “Why do you anyway? I mean, you do all the same workouts as the rest of us do. It’s because you’re covered in chest hair isn’t it?” Hangman smirked as he playfully shoved Bob, flipping his sunglasses down over his eyes.

“No, I just don’t like to,” Bob shrugged his shoulders, “You know me, I’m not one to draw attention to myself.” 

“I hate to break it to you, Bobby, but you’ve definitely drawn someone’s attention,” Hangman grinned at him as he pointed towards you with his thumb as he spoke, “Mav’s niece hasn’t been able to stop herself from giving you the bedroom eyes, it’s hilarious that you haven’t noticed it yet though.”

“Bedroom eyes?” Bob laughed and shook his head, “What the hell are bedroom eyes?” 

“You know,” Hangman put his sunglasses atop his short blonde hair and grinned, imitating the lustful look he was referring to, the one he was so convinced you had for Bob.

“I have never seen anyone make that face in my life, Bagman. Are you bullshitting me?” Bob raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on his palms in the sand and sighed softly as he watched you again. The breeze blew your long hair back and the sunlight hit your tanned skin just right, making you appear to have a sunkissed glow. The sight alone was almost enough to drive Bob crazy. 

“Hah!” Hangman grinned as he pointed at Bob’s facial expression as he watched you, “You’re doing it to her right now!”

“I am not!” Bob protested, shaking his head. “Look, don’t you have something better to do?”

“No, I know I’m a shitty wingman half the time, but this time, I’m making it my personal mission to be yours.” 

Bob sighed again as he rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn’t winning on this one, and Hangman wasn’t going to leave him alone anytime soon. He just wasn’t ready to make a move on you yet. He’d had a handful of girlfriends over the years, but he’d never gone any further than making out for one reason or another, usually due to nerves. As badly as Bob wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to be humiliated in front of you.

“I’m fine,” Bob said through clenched teeth. 

“Dude, you can tell me what your hang up is. I’m not gonna go blab it, I promise,” Hangman said, placing his hand over his heart playfully to show that Bob’s secret would be safe with him.

“Fine…” Bob exhaled and shook his head, “I don’t know what the bedroom eyes are or anything because I’ve never, you know…gone to the bedroom…with anyone,” He said as he gave Hangman a pleading look, his facial expression begging him for some sympathy and compassion instead of the relentless teasing he expected from him.

“You mean, never?”

“Never. Not even close. I think I’ve made out with a girl once. I was like 18 though.” 

“Wow,” was all that Hangman could muster out.

“So now you get it?” Bob asked softly, “It’s not that I don’t want to ask her out. It’s that I’m scared I’ll screw it up because of that.”

Bob sighed and shook his head again as he stood up. He brushed the sand off his shorts and forced a laugh.

“I’m gonna head home, Hangman. See you later.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hangman laughed as he put a hand on Bob’s shoulder, his firm grip stopping Bob from walking away, “You’re at least gonna talk to this poor girl. She’s been interested in you the whole time she’s been here visiting Mav. Christ, even Mav’s noticed it,, and we all know how observant he is.”

“What if you’re wrong though and she’s not interested in me? Maybe she’s just being nice. I bet you’re more her type anyway.” Bob frowned.

“Me? No, she’s uh…she’s made it very clear I am not her type,” He laughed softly, shaking his head, “I tried. She outright told me “the cute guy with glasses” is her type. And how many guys with glasses are on our squad?”

“Just me…unless she meant sunglasses. Then it could be anyone.”

“Robert, I swear, you’re the dumbest guy I’ve ever met sometimes,” Hangman laughed as he rolled his eyes, “She meant you, jackass. She likes you. She told me. Now, what are you going to do with this information?”

“Talk to her…?” Bob tried, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he thought about it.

“Attaboy, Baby-on-Board, you got this,” Hangman grinned as he stood up, “Now, do me a favour? Try to look a little less like you’re about to shit your pants over this ok?” 

Bob rolled his eyes and took a deep breath as he approached you, a friendly smile on his lips as he nodded his head towards you. 

“Hi, I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself,” Bob offered his hand out to shake and smiled, “Lt. Robert Floyd, everyone calls me Bob, sometimes Bobby though.” 

“Hi Bob,” you grinned and shook his hand, “Y/N. Nice to meet you. My uncle’s told me a lot about you. You’re a WSO, right?”

“Yeah, I’m the backseater, it’s kinda fun, I’m a big nerd, so I get to use a lot of math in it to calculate where to aim the lasers and all that.”

You let out a giggle as he explained his role to you and he couldn’t help but smile and laugh along with you. Hours passed between the two of you conversing together, Hangman proudly watching Bob impress you from the background. After a while, the rest of the squad cleared out from the beach, leaving just you and Bob there by yourselves. It was beginning to get dark outside when you stood up beside Bob and smiled warmly.

“Want to come back to my aunt Penny’s? She’s not gonna care if I bring you over, she and Uncle Mav speak very highly of you. Aunt Penny always says you’re incredibly polite, and Uncle Mav called you a “good kid” so I doubt they’d mind if you came back to hangout for a little while.”

Bob nodded his head and smiled politely at you, the sunset making his eyes shine as he turned to face you. He leaned forward gently and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulled away after a moment and shook his head. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m not usually that forward. I mean, I wanted to, obviously,  I just normally ask first. And now I’m rambling, fuck sake,” He laughed and shook his head again.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, quieting his anxieties and insecurities as your lips met once again. He moved his lips in time with yours as he kissed you, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip, as if he was asking permission for it to enter your mouth. Your tongues swirled together with passion and lust as you made your way across the sand and over to the front steps of your aunt and uncle’s home where you were staying, your lips barely breaking contact as you walked. You felt Bob put a hand gently on your waist as you pulled him inside through the patio door, into the sunroom where you were staying. You breathlessly pulled away from Bob to come up for air, shrugging your cardigan off your shoulders as you did so. Bob, finding a sudden burst of confidence, grabbed you by the waist with one hand and pulled you into his body tightly, pressing his lips to your neck. As his lips found your sensitive spot on your neck, his hands palmed their way over your breasts, gently cupping them and squeezing them as he felt you up. 

“Mhmm, Bob,” you groaned softly as he made contact with your sensitive skin. 

Bob pulled away for a moment and frowned slightly, remembering his earlier confession to Hangman. He let out a deep exhale before turning to face you, his facial expression full of concern as he spoke.

“Listen, I have to tell you something before we go any further, ok?” His voice was quiet and low, almost in a whisper as he spoke.

You nodded in response and waited, listening intently as Bob spoke.

“I’ve never…you know,” He finally said.

“Never?”

“No, never.”

“Do you want to though…?” You asked after a few moments of contemplation.

Bob bit his lip and laughed softly as he nodded his head quickly. 

“Believe me, I really do.”

“Then I’m honoured to be your first,” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek gently.

His cheeks flushed a bright scarlet red as you spoke. Without further hesitation, Bob leaned in and kissed you passionately again, tangling his fingers gently in your hair as he pulled you in closer to him. He pulled away ever so slightly as he spoke and laughed nervously.

“You’re going to have to tell me if I’m doing any of this right, ok? Kissing is about the only thing I know how to do.”

You giggled softly as you nodded your head reassuringly to Bob as he drifted his lips down your neck to your collarbone. He gently ran his hand up your leg, his fingers brushing against the hemline of your sundress as his hand drifted slowly up your thigh. You felt him take a deep breath as he pressed his lips to your collarbone again, his fingertips grazing your underwear gently. He looked up at you without saying a word, his lips still hovering above your collarbone, as if to ask for permission to keep going. You bit your lip, holding back a grin as you nodded your head, giving him the signal to continue.

Bob’s fingertips grazed against the dampening fabric of your underwear again, moaning softly into your collarbone, he looked up at you as he slowly dragged them down off your legs and laughed softly. 

“Wow.” he said, trying to hide his mix of arousal and curiosity, “You’re uh…you’re pretty into this, aren’t you?” He laughed as he tossed your underwear to the floor. 

“Mhmm,” You smirked at him as you guided his hand, his fingers gently brushing against your folds, feeling your arousal as it began to gather on you. 

“Shit,” Bob laughed softly as he shook his head, “This is where I start to not know what I’m doing.” He gave you an apologetic look.

“Everyone has a first time, Bob, I’ll show you what to do,” You smiled reassuringly at him as you continued to guide his hand along your core. He smirked as his wandering hand found your clit, two of his fingers pressing against the sensitive nub as he discovered it. The sound that fell from your lips was almost enough to make Bob lose all self-control on the spot. He arched his eyebrow at you as he continued to gently draw circles on it with his finger. 

“Y-you can use your mouth there too,” you nodded, trying your best to think clearly as he pleasured you.

Bob bit his lip gently as he positioned himself between your legs. He took his glasses off and sat them beside your leg as he ducked his head down in between your legs. He gently pressed soft kisses to your folds, his tongue carefully lapping up your wet arousal as he kissed at you. You let out a loud moan as Bob’s lips made contact, but before he could lift his head up to see if you were ok, your hand was grabbing a handful of his sandy blonde hair, pulling his head into you gently to tell him to keep going.

Taking the hint, Bob continued to leave soft kisses on you, grinning as he heard you moan out. 

“Feels s’good, honey, keep doing that,” You encouraged as he began using his lips to suck at your sensitive clit, your hips bucking upwards against his mouth, your body craving being as close to him as humanly possible.

Your compliment to Bob’s skill turned something on in him, and suddenly, he began moving his lips in the same rhythm but with more passion, like he’d just discovered his God-given talent on this earth was using his mouth to pleasure you into oblivion. As you reached your boiling point, Bob continued to lap his tongue at you, his lips sucking on your clit as you rode it out. He pulled his mouth away from you before pulling his t-shirt over his head. He wiped his mouth on his shirt before discarding it to the floor and working to unbuckle his belt before dropping his shorts to the ground. His boxers were tenting with arousal as he looked down at you, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

“Do you…do we need anything?” He asked as he tried build up the confidence to do what he was about to.

“I’m clean and on the pill,” You nodded your head and laughed softly, “So you’re good.”

“Right,” Bob chuckled softly as he nodded his head before peeling his boxer briefs down off his body. 

Bob stroked his length before lining his hips up with yours. He took a deep breath and looked to you for an indication that you were ready, that you were sure you wanted to go through with this. As you flitted your gaze to him, biting your lip as you sized him up, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. Bob looked at you, somewhat mortified as his eyes widened.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just…bigger than I’d pictured, if you get me. You might need to take a pause once you get started so I can adjust to you, mkay?”

“Gotcha, don’t worry darlin’,” Bob nodded knowingly and laughed as he ran a hand through his hair. 

You let out a sharp exhale as Bob lined his hips up with yours and gently pushed himself into you. As promised, he paused for you to adjust to his size, waiting for you to tell him you were ready for him to start. Once he heard you give the ok, he began thrusting his hips in and out of you, a deep grunt escaping his lips as he felt your body tighten around him, your arousal dripping from you and onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” Bob groaned as he thrusted deeper into you, finding his rhythm, “You feel so good, darlin’.”

“Keep going, baby,” you purred at him, encouraging him to continue before throwing your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name loudly.

Bob felt your walls clenching against him, gripping his erection tightly as he pumped himself in and out of your body. He felt as you arched your back against the bed, bucking your hips upwards into his thrusts as you came close to your climax again. He groaned loudly in pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier and more frantic.

“Fuck, darlin’, I’m so close,” He hissed as he let out another flurry of sinful sounding moans and grunts as he came.

The two of you sighed in unison as you rode your pleasure out together. Bob panted as he pulled himself out of you, his cheeks red from breathlessness as he tried to compose himself. He hovered over you, a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. You pressed your lips to his passionately, moaning softly against them as your overstimulated body struggled between wanting more from him, and wanting to take a break.

“How was I for my first time then?” He grinned at you. 

“I never would have believed you if you told me that was your first time after we’d done it. I also don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before this either.”

Bob smirked as he laid himself down beside you in bed, putting his glasses back on.

“Well, apparently I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?

#lt. robert floyd #lt. robert floyd x reader #lt. robert floyd x you #bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #lt. bob floyd x reader #lt. bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd x ofc #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc

[sylviebell]

Lessons In Biology

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Original Female Character

Summary: Bob gets a little lesson in plant biology

Word Count: 2,326

Warnings: fluff, mention of alcohol, SMUT 18+ MDNI, fingering, oral female receiving

A/N: Happy Birthday @roosterforme! For my STEM Baddie, I hope you enjoy Bob and Fern getting down and nerdy. As always eternal thanks to @wkndwlff

Masterlist

Rain beats down against the pavement in a steady stream as Bob hustles down the sidewalk. The unusual weather, however nice it may be for the normally dry southern California climate, is really throwing a wrench in his weekend plans. He had been looking forward to this festival ever since Fern had signed up to have a booth at it. He was excited to work it for the first time with her, but it seems like mother nature has different plans this time.

The bell above the door of the plant nursery dings as he steps in from the rain, the woman behind the counter looking out from around the plant in front of her. Bob knows enough to tell it’s a palm, though what kind he can’t be sure. He’s still learning.

“Hi, Ms. Carroway,” Bob smiles, unzipping his rain jacket and pushing the hood back.

“Bob,” the woman greets with a smile, though a sternness sits in her gaze, “how many times do I have to tell you to call me Gale.”

With a tint of pink to his cheeks, Bob offers a sheepish nod, “Yes, ma’am,” and laughs at the sharp glance he gets in return before heading through the wide double doors into the back greenhouse.

It’s there he finds Fern, upper half leaned over a large tub, stirring dirt around with a long shovel.

“Hi,” he says quietly, feeling his cheeks heating up even more already, and not from the humidity of the greenhouse.

She stands upright, looking over her shoulder at him and smiling back brightly. “Hi,” she gasps. There’s a thin sheen of sweat along her hairline, a lone tendril of hair hanging free, and some dirt smudged on her forehead. The sight of her makes his tummy feel light and his chest flutter.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, coming to stand behind her and looking down at the dirt pile.

“Stirring the compost,” she huffs, blowing a breath out to try and clear her loose hair. It flies up for a second before flopping back down in place, much to her chagrin. Bob reaches out, tucking it behind her ear and placing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Omaha made compost once,” he says, looking back over her shoulder. “It’s smelled so awful Maverick made him throw it out and clean the whole kitchen in the break room on his hands and knees.”

Her laughter is a reward he’ll never tire of. “Omaha’s an idiot and added too much nitrogen,” she replies, giving the mixture a final turn of the shovel before covering it up. She turns, spinning right into his chest, and her smile shines bright up at him as her hands find purchase on his front. “Hi,” she whispers, leaning in to meet his lips with hers.

Strong arms wrap around her back. “Hi,” he whispers back once they break apart, just far enough to breathe in the air between them. The patter on the roof grows harder and Bob peeks at the rain through the window. “I think our art festival got washed out.”

“That’s okay,” Fern says, wrapping her arms around him and swaying to a beat only she can hear. “Why don’t you take me back to your place so I can get a shower, and then we can make dinner.” Her lips trail a light path of kisses up his neck as she adds, “Maybe crack open a bottle of wine?”

“Y-yeah,” Bob squeaks out, her soft lips tickling his ear, “that sounds nice.”

---

When Fern emerges from Bob’s bathroom, steam trailing behind her and his fluffy towel wrapped snuggly around her body, she finds Bob perched in the center of his bed, staring intently at a textbook with beat up corners sitting open in his lap. The familiar cover she can just see the top of has her steps faltering.

“You’re reading about plant biology?”

His eyes flash up to hers, widening just a bit. “Yeah,” clearing his throat, he shifts on the bed, looking back down at the book in his lap. “I want to learn more about what you’re passionate about.”

His words have her breath catching in her throat, the butterflies in her chest running rampant. She still isn’t sure what she’s done in this life to deserve someone as sweet as him. Not convinced the fates haven’t made some mistake somewhere. “Have you learned a lot?”

The crinkle between his eyebrows presents itself at her question. “I think so,” he says, but his words lack any real conviction.

“Too much too fast?”

A sheepish smile adorns his features as he answers with, “Nat would say I girl bossed too close to the sun.”

Fern kneels next to him on the bed, spying diagrams of nutrients traveling though roots on the open pages. “What are you stuck on?”

“Well I think I’ve got this part down,” he says, the cute crinkle between his brows still frowning down as he turns the page, “but now they’re talking about stomatas and I’m a little confused.”

Bold letters at the top of the page indicate a new section, new photo diagrams lining the corners of the pages. “Now you’re talking about photosynthesis,” Fern explains, pointing at a photo on the page. “The stomata are pores on the leaves that turn carbon dioxide into oxygen.”

Bob nods slowly, as if he understands, but his frown remains. An idea works its way into Fern’s mind, her teeth pulling her bottom lip in to try and hold her smile back. “Do you want a visual aid?” she asks, eyes scanning Bob’s face as his lips form a thin line.

“Yeah,” he says softly, eyes scanning the text before him astutely, “I think that might help.”

Fern lets her grin widen before reaching for the knot holding her towel up, fingers making quick work of the fabric so it falls to a heap around her legs. Bob catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, gaze traveling up and eyes widening when they find the vast expanse of her bare skin before him. His neck grows pinker and pinker, blush traveling down under the collar of his shirt and up to the tips of his ears as his eyes travel up over tanned and inked skin.

“What, uh,” a clear of his throat, “what are you doing?”

She smiles, pulling the book from his grasp and setting it aside as she slides into his lap, knees on either side. “I’m giving you a visual,” she husks. His hand is smooth under hers, soft from the all-natural lotion she’s turned him onto, as she slides it up and over her breast, fingers running over the dark green fern branch inked into her collarbone. His other hand grips her thigh, fingers tender where they should be calloused. “Stomata are pores on plant leaves,” she smiles, watching Bob’s eyes as they watch his finger tracing the leaves on her skin, “and they’re an integral part of photosynthesis.”

The fingers of her free hand push gently at the underside of his chin until his gaze meets hers. “Would you like to learn the parts of the stomata, Bobby?”

His yes comes out in a rush, head nodding rapidly in confirmation. Fern smiles, leaning back in his lap as she slides his hand lower.

“It starts with the epidermis,” she whispers, stomach tingling at the awe on his face as she runs his fingers along her lips. “And then there are the guard cells,” she continues, watching as his mouth falls open as she moves his fingers along her inner labia. Her wetness collects against their fingers, her chest tightening as his tongue sneaks out, swiping along his lip.

Swallowing, she continues, “We have the nucleus,” she guides his slick fingers up, pressing them into her clit. It’s hard to distinguish between Bob’s whines and hers, especially when he pushes up against her just a little harder. Taking in a shuddering breath, she asks, “What’s the nucleus, Bobby?”

It takes him a few seconds for his brain to register that he’s been asked a question, and once they finally process the words his hooded eyes rise up to meet Fern’s. “Uh, what?” he stutters.

Fern smiles, ghosting her knuckles over the apple of his rosy cheek, delighting in the way his eyes fall shut at her touch. She leans forward, moaning as she shifts against him, to whisper in his ear, “What is the nucleus?” She can feel his shudder as he exhales, letting her lips trail across his face as he stammers for an answer.

“It’s the powerhouse of the cell,” he gasps out, before scrunching his eyes closed even further. “Wait, no…” 

Smiling against his cheek, Fern glides her lips over his, waiting for him to open his eyes back up before she grinds down on his fingers. Her grip on his hand tightens as she gasps into his mouth, “It’s the control center of the cell, Bobby.” Their lips mold together, his tongue slipping into her mouth with ease as she pushes him down onto his back. 

She pulls back, propping herself up with a hand on his chest and licking her lips. “And when the conditions are right,” she starts, “the stoma will open up,” lips widening into a grin as she lines his fingers up at her entrance, “and allow elements to pass through it,” a gasp escapes as she slides onto Bob. It takes her a moment, letting herself grow re-accustomed to his familiar stretch, before she’s sliding up, fingers pulling out, “The oxygen comes out,” and sliding him back in, “and the carbon dioxide goes in.”

Falling forward again, she reattaches their lips, and glides her hands over his chest and neck as he takes control pumping in and out of her.

“You feel so nice,” he gasps, wrapping his arm around her back.

“Oh, my sweet boy.” The curl of his fingers and the press of his thumb on her clit has her hiding her face in his neck. “You feel nice, too, baby,” she whispers into his flushed skin. Tension winds tighter and tighter in her stomach, and she pulls back, gripping Bob’s hand to hold him still before he pulls her over the edge.

“You still have to pass your test,” she smiles against his lips. 

“Test?” Bob whispers, brows furrowed.

“Mhm,” she hums against his mouth. A wet trail is left in the fabric of his t-shirt as Fern slides up his stomach and over his chest, settling her knees on either side of his head as his wide eyes stare up at her. “You’ve got to tell me the parts that you’ve learned, Bobby.”

Warm breath washing over her as Bob starts to lean in and his tongue peeks out between his lips is almost enough to make her forget about the lesson entirely. Taking a deep breath, she composes herself enough to run her fingers through his hair, getting a good grip as she braces her other hand in front of her. “Show me the epidermis and the guard cells, baby.”

Broad stripes work around her opening as Bob’s warm tongue licks languidly around her lips. “Very good, Bobby.” Hands on her thighs tighten their grip at the praise, his tongue inching closer and closer to slipping inside of her. “Not so fast.” Fingers in his hair tighten and pull back just enough to bring his eyes to hers, tongue wetting her lips at the lust in his eyes. “Don’t forget the nucleus.” She reaches her hand down to skim her fingers across his cheek, adding, “Show me where my control center is,” before pulling her lip between her teeth to smother her grin.

Bob is a fast learner, wasting no time swiping his tongue back up her lips, over the epidermis and guard cells, and around her clit. Fern throws her head back, gasps falling and chest heaving as Bob flattens his tongue before pulling her clit into his mouth. She’s so lost in him, his soft lips and smooth tongue and the press of his fingers into her thighs, that she almost forgets about the lesson again.

“The stoma,” she manages out in a gasp as he sucks a little harder, “the compounds go in and out of the stoma, Bobby.” Strong fingers slide between her folds, gliding through her arousal before slipping into her, all the while his talented mouth never missing a beat. “Oh,” her head falls back as the moans escape her, his fingers curling on that perfect spot inside her, “you’re doing so good, baby.”

Bob preens beneath her, smiling around her clit and pumping his fingers harder at the praise. Before she knows it, Fern is tightening her hold in his hair as her back arches and she clenches around him. The grip on her thighs softens as her body relaxes, Bob licking a slow and comforting pattern against her until he eventually guides her down to lay against him.

“I don’t remember biology being this fun before,” he says, hands running patterns up and down her back.

Her smiles grows from her spot resting on his chest. “You did a very good job, baby,” she says, propping herself up. Arousal shines brightly on his chin. The taste is sweet on her tongue, mixed with a tinge of salt from his sweat, and she helps him clean it off.

“I had a really good teacher,” he sighs, tilting his head to give her better access.

She moans before connecting their lips, the taste even stronger on his own tongue. “Now it’s time to see how good of a teacher you are,” she states, finally breaking apart for need of air in her lungs. The cute crinkle between Bob’s eyebrows surfaces again, him not quite getting it. A grin spits her face as she saddles herself on his lap once again. “You’re gonna teach me all about thrust, Bobby.”

taglist: @wkndwlff @foreverrandomwritings @roosterforme @himbos-on-ice @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger

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

[laracrofted]

❝ down comes the night

synopsis: billionaire bob floyd has a reputation for partying and womanizing, but bob has a secret. and when her work in the district attorney's office puts her in the crosshairs of the mob, fran find herself right in the middle of his double life.

pairing: batman!bob floyd x fran douglas (oc)

general warnings: minors and ageless accounts dni (18+), batman au, explicit smut, explicit language, alcohol, see individual posts for specific warnings.

fics

down comes the night make your own luck (district attorney jake)

drabbles and blurbs

his deep voice ⊹ on the floor in front of the fireplace ⊹

extras

playlist mood board batman bob edit work song edit search the tag

anything marked with ⊹ contains smut | requests are open for blurbs. send in a prompt or an idea!

#i’m not starting a new series i promise #but i'd like to write some one shots in this universe #like an anthology #and really i just want to write feral and protective and maybe slightly ooc bob #batman!bob #bob floyd fic #fic: bob floyd #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd smut #fic: down comes the night

[roosterbruiser]

If you're still taking requests, how about a beach day with Bob and the squad finds out he has a matching tattoo with his partner

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩

𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

There's a reason that Bob usually wears a shirt on beach days. Even if everyone else on the squadron likes to tease that it's because he's not as toned as they are--which simply is not true--no one really knows why that is.

Until you accompany your boyfriend to the beach one hot and wet afternoon, a wicker picnic basket tucked under your arm and straw hat flopped on your head.

You're happy to be at the beach--you and Bob had agreed to take advantage of the nice weather in San Diego more than you had in the past, so when the squadron deemed that afternoon as a beach afternoon, the two of you had been all in.

"Floyd," Hangman greets, waving the two of you over to the parade of sweaty bodies in the sand. Hangman cheekily tips his cowboy hat at you. "Eventual Floyd," he greets with a wink.

Bob's blushing--a good sort of blush, one that makes his heart pulse with adoration. Yes, you will be a Floyd--eventually. And he's glad that everyone around knows it.

And you're all grins, tipping your straw hat at Hangman and gesturing to the picnic basket.

"I brought strawberry muffins," you tell him, which causes a chain-reaction of hollering from the group as everyone abandons their previous activities to gather around your picnic basket.

Bob just watches you for a moment, slipping his sunglasses on, smiling softly as his toes dig into the sand. You're grinning that pretty grin of yours, happily giving away all the strawberry muffins you made this morning so dutifully. You're such a giver--and so, so kind--and that's something he loves about you. Even right now, you're offering everyone bottles of water and extra tubes of sunscreen. You just can't seem to help yourself.

And you're just happy to be there--you really do love the squadron and reckon you've found somewhat of a family in their company. So after everyone's given you very wet hugs and thanked you profusely for the muffins and refreshments, they're begging you and Bob to join them for another game of Dog Fight Football.

"Shirts and skins," Coyote says, looking between you and Bob with a smile. "Who's who?"

"Good question," Payback adds with a playful eye roll.

"You can both be skins if you want," Fanboy finishes, bumping you with his elbow. "Don't think anyone here would complain."

Phoenix strikes him in the back of the head with a grumble before Bob can.

You're blushing, laughing.

Bob's shrugging his shirt off before you can even think about it--even if Coyote's only teasing the two of you, Bob never wants you to feel uncomfortable.

"Bob, man," Rooster calls with a smirk. "You've got a tattoo?"

It tickles you that the rest of the squadron has seemingly never seen him shirtless--because if they had, they would have seen it already. It's hard to miss: it's about the size of the middle of your palm, inked on his skin in black. It's a stamp of a honeybee, drawn in a classic illustrative style that Bob found himself drawn to the year he got it.

"Uh huh," Bob says, shyly raking his hand through his hair and resisting the urge to put his shirt back on. He feels like he's going to burn alive not even under the sun but under the gaze of his entire squadron as they come to get a better look at him. "So, football?"

"Uh-uh," Phoenix tuts, letting her sunglasses fall down on her nose as she looks closer at the tattoo. "Is that a honeybee?"

Bob nods, pretending like the red in his cheeks is from the sun and not from their prodding.

You know Bob well--arguably, you know Bob better than anyone else in the world. So as you stand beside the emptying picnic basket and watch him shrink underneath everyone's gaze, wringing his shirt in his hands nervously, stuttering out responses and trying to steer everyone away from him--you know you need to do something.

So you take your cover-up off, which you know will give everyone a view of the matching stamp on your outer shoulder. You move over to the group, holding a tube of sunscreen in your hand, pushing your sunglasses up your nose.

"Hey, Nix," you call, smiling when she turns to you with her eyebrows raised. "Can you get my tattoo? It's sensitive to the sun. Don't want it to fade."

That's got everyone's attention, much to Bob's immediate relief. You've always been much better at receiving attention than him. You're less shy by nature, which is something he's always admired about you, and you don't get so stuffy beneath everyone's gaze.

"You have one, too?!" Rooster asks, coming to take a closer look at your arm as you smile, pretending to be coy.

"Uh-oh," Payback sing-songs. "That's a flower, isn't it?"

It clicks for the group just before you give a proud nod, confirming that you and Bob indeed have matching tattoos. And they're thinking about chiding you, the lot of them cooing mockingly and pinching your sides. But you're too prideful for that, just tilting your chin towards the sky and smiling your pretty smile, giving all of them the same energy.

"I'm his petal," you say, intentionally inducing a grimace on their faces, "and he's my honeybee."

"And suddenly, I want to play football again," Hangman snorts, promptly nodding before turning back to the sand.

What you're saying is the truth; you do call each other petal and honeybee. But it's always been something the two of you have kept under wraps, indulging in the sweetness of it but all too aware of just how sickly-romantic it is.

Phoenix is rubbing suntan lotion on you through her remaining giggles and the rest of the squadron is starting to filter back over to the sand to pick back up where they left off, crumbling their muffin wrappers and tossing them into the trash bag.

Bob falls more and more in love with you every single day--he is just a man after all. How could he not when you're the most perfect person he's ever met? You outdo yourself everyday--outdoing the previous days sweetness, selflessness, kindness, wit, beauty. And right now is no exception; you're chatting with Phoenix about her date, something she mentioned last weekend off-handedly but something that you'd remembered to ask about because that's just how you are. You're so happy, gasping and oohing and awing along with her words, practically glowing under the sun.

Whenever Phoenix finishes and you glance over at Bob, your eyes partially hidden by sunglasses, your smile is as sweet as those muffins everyone loves. Bob can't help himself--he cups your cheeks, tipping your hat back just slightly, thumbing your cheeks gently.

"Too much?" You ask, searching his wanton face as your smile falters. "Didn't mean to give our pet-names out like that, but I could tell you weren't comfortable and--!"

"--You better get ready," Bob interrupts, smiling softly as your face softens and your brows come together.

You carefully stroke his tattoo before letting your hands rest on his shoulders, his skin warm beneath your palms.

"For what?" You ask, giggling when he pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours sweetly.

"To become a Floyd," he mumbles against your lips with a grin. "Sooner rather than later, petal."

here is my tag list!!

#it is bob #bob floyd is the best friend in the world #bobfucks #bob you have my whole heart i love you #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #robert bob floyd #bob top gun #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert floyd #bob fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd angst #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x y/n #robert floyd fanfiction #bob x reader #bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #Robert floyd imagine

[ereardon]

Friends Don't [Masterlist]

Summary: Bob has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Status: Series is complete

Dream cast moodboard

Overview

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

#bob floyd fluff #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun x oc

[topguncortez]

The Origin of Honeybee

pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader (OC: Bea Clark) word count: 3.5k warnings: angsty, smutty, language, teen pregnancy, religious trauma themes Bob & Bea Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

It was a fairy tale love story. The two high school sweethearts who were never seen apart. But, it had started before that fateful day in junior year when Bob found the bravery to ask you out officially. He knew you were going to be his from the first day you walked into his father’s 5th grade classroom. You had started the school year late, beginning in October. Your mom had taken over for a teacher who decided to quit during the school year. Mr. Floyd had introduced you to his class, and Bob couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You were mesmerizing, your eyes hidden behind a pair of blue glasses, your hair in pigtails which you had fought your mom on saying that they made you seem too little kiddish, and the most noticeable, a bright pink cast on your right arm. You had taken the only open seat, right next to Bob, by his father’s desk. You two didn’t say anything, paying attention to the math lesson his dad was teaching. It wasn’t until you went to lunch, you sat at the only empty table, opening your purple lunch box and pulling out the PB&J your dad had packed. Bob walked over to you, you looked up at him,

“Can I sit with you?” He asked shyly and you nodded. He sat across from you, opening his Superman lunch box. The two of you sat in silence for a couple moments, eating your home lunches until Bob spoke up. 

“I’m Bobby,” Bob introduced himself softly.

“Beatrice, but everyone calls me Bea,” You said.

“What happened to your arm?” He asked.

“Fell off a four wheeler at my grandma’s house,” You said wiggling your fingers, “They had to put a metal rod in,”

“Are you serious?” Bob asked, his blue eyes wide. 

“So serious,” You said with a smile. The two of you didn’t separate for the rest of the day, getting to know one another. At the end of the day, Bob walked over to you, he didn’t say anything but held up a black magic marker. You nodded and held out your casted arm, and in very scribbly handwriting Bob wrote his name.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

It was from that point on, the two of you were inseparable. No one ever saw Bob without Bea, and vice versa. They had moved on from playdates after school, to begging parents and older siblings to take them to the roller rink, to sneaking sips of alcohol at Bob’s older brother Ben’s legendary bon fires. You were lucky to have someone by your side to battle that awkward first of high school, where everyone was starting to change, but they never seemed to change. The only change was that Bob’s father had died your freshman year. You sat by his side the whole time during the funeral, holding his hand and occasionally wiping a tear from his face. 

“Have you been asked to homecoming?” Ben asked you, as he sat on the couch in the Floyd family basement. 

You shrugged, you were shy, no one had noticed you outside of your friends. You had gotten braces over the summer, and were constantly checking the wires on your teeth in the screen of your phone. You had also started the joyous life of being a woman. Puberty had hit both you and Bob. You guys had now started to move into that awkward phase of life, where you were trying to figure out what was happening and if you found someone else attractive or if it was just the newly released hormones.

“Well since it’s your first homecoming, I’ll take you. . . and Bob.” Ben said and glared at his younger brother who was setting up his model train set. 

Bob was thankful that Ben had asked you to go with both of them. It made it easier for him to suppress his feelings a little longer. The only person who he confided in about how he felt was Ben. Bob wasn’t jealous of your relationship with his brother, your and Ben’s relationship was brother-sister. You constantly butt heads but would make up with a joke or buying the other food. Ben had purposely ditched the two of you at Homecoming to dance with Megan Stevens, making you and Bob have to not only talk to each other alone, but dance with each other too.

Freshman year fall faded into the summer, and the boys were busy working on the ranch. You hardly saw the two of them unless you were helping their mother Elizabeth cook dinner, or they needed your help with something. While Bob was sweating in the sun every day, you tried out for the cheer team and made it. You had fallen in love with the varsity quarterback, Logan Brooks, and had decided to join the cheer team. You got your braces off and had figured out a good hair care routine. Your new found confidence was radiant, and the boys could see it.

Much to Bob’s dismay, you had started to slip away from him, spending more time with your new cheer friends and boyfriend. Bob had fought his shyness and stood next to his older brother in the front row of the stands during every football game. Ben knew that Bob didn’t care much about the team, but was there to watch your bright smile as you cheered along the side lines. 

“I don’t even understand football,” Bob said.

“It's easy,” Ben said, explaining the game to him, but Bob absent mindedly nodded along, his eyes looking at you cheering in front of him. 

“If you don’t ask Bea to prom this year, I’m gonna ask her,” Ben said, snapping Bob out of his daze.

“What? Why would you do that? And what makes you think she won’t go with Logan?” Bob said.

“Cause Logan’s eyes aren’t staring at Bea’s ass right now,” Ben said and pointed towards the quarterback, who’s eyes were looking at another girl. 

Bob grimaced and frowned. He saw the way you smiled and hugged Logan’s sweaty frame as he walked off the field after winning. Bob also saw the way Logan was looking at another girl from the other team, as you talked to him about how good he did during the game.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

“I don’t even know what I did wrong?” You cried, rubbing your nose with a crumbled up Kleenex. Ben was standing in the doorway to his and Bob’s room, as you sat on Bob’s bed. Some sad song was playing on the record player and Bob was handing you more Kleenex. 

Logan had started to be secretive and distant. He was constantly on his phone, hiding it from you. The nicknames and PDA had stopped, and so did most of the daily conversations between the two of you. It wasn’t until you went to deliver him some cookies for his birthday that you had spotted the white BMW in the driveway. He opened the door, shirtless and light bruises covered his abs and collar bone. He didn’t even have to say anything, but you knew. Logan had called out to you as you threw the cookie dish at his car and flipped him off walking away.

“We should go egg his house,” Ben said, “Or go all Carrie Underwood with a Louisville slugger,”

“Ben,” Bob said and shook his head no, “He’s an idiot, honeybee.” The nickname that Elizabeth had given her years ago fell so easily from Bob’s lips, “He didn’t even realize how lucky he was to have you,” You looked up at Bob, those E/C that he had fallen in love with wet with tears. He sat next to you on your bed, his arm thrown around you, while Sam sat in your beanbag chair, “You want to watch a movie?”

“Tommy Boy?” You asked, it was your favorite movie, you could almost quote it word for word.

“Well, thank you both for the invite but I gotta go pick up Olivia for our date,” Ben said, winking at his younger brother. Ben came and kissed your forehead, “It’ll all be okay, Bea. But if you wake up and see my face on the front page for egging or slashing a hole in all four tires, it was for a good cause,”

You laughed at the boy and Bob said goodbye to his brother. You two settled in, watching the movie. At some point in time you had both fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Bob’s arms were wrapped around your waist and your head was on his chest. It was then that you realized that you were falling in love with your best friend.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

There was an obvious shift between the two of you. Everyone could see it, Bob’s siblings, Ben, your parents, Bob’s mom. It was just a matter of time until you two could see it. You both felt the love you had for each other, but both were too stubborn and scared to act on it. It wasn’t until you brought home another boy that Bob knew his window of opportunity was closing. So while you were walking around, pacing the basement floor ranting about whatever his name was, Bob stood up.

“Bea, he doesn’t deserve you. None of them do,” Bob said, “Does he even know your favorite flower? Or what color do you prefer of your favorite flower?”

“No but-“

“It’s orange roses,” Bob said, “You said you hate the cliche white and red, that you prefer orange but will settle for yellow. You fell in love with them when your grandma accidentally planted an orange rose bush when she got sick with dementia. She tried to dig them up, but your grandpa told her that they were unique and beautiful just like she was. You said that was the moment you believed in true love.”

You looked at Bob, his honey brown eyes staring into yours. Your body moved quicker than your brain, and you grabbed his face, connecting your lips together. He grabbed your hips, pulling you into him as you both melted into the kiss. It was like time stopped, and fireworks exploded behind you.

“Ah!” Ben yelled, opening the basement door, “Mom! It’s happening!” He smiled and ran over to go get his mom, leaving the two teens who now had deep red blushes across their cheeks.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

You and Bob seemed to be even closer than ever before. Like always, where anyone saw Bob, you were surely to follow. When they told their friends that they had finally started dating, everyone let out a sigh in relief followed by a “finally”. It seemed as though you and Bob were the only ones who were oblivious to the love that you both had for each other. 

Prom was supposed to be the most important night of a young girl's life, but you were absolutely terrified. You had been hyper fixating on your dress and thinking of all the things that can go wrong when you put it on. Your mother did your hair, deciding to curl it and leave it down. Your dress was black, you went for simple (partially because it was what you could afford). Bob was just as nervous as you as he sat on your couch, your dad staring him down. He held onto the plastic box with your corsage with all his might. He was sure that he was sweating through the rental tux. The moment he heard your mother come down the stairs and he stood up, his blue eyes going wide. 

“My god, honeybee,” Bob sighed out and your father glared at him. Bob walked from the couch over to the bottom of the stairs and held his hand out for you. You smiled and took his hand, “You’re gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You clean up nicely.” 

“Oh, Bea, be nice to that boy,” Your mom said, “Get close for pictures!” 

You probably took a thousand pictures in front of your fireplace. Your face was hurting from smiling so much. Bob had spent all morning cleaning his truck so you didn’t get your dress dirty. He helped you get into the old Ford, making sure that no part of the dress would get stuck in the door. Your mom smiled fondly at the two of you as you drove off. 

“They’re going to get married someday,” Your dad muttered and looked at his wife, “He looks at her the way I look at you.” 

“I know,” Your mom said and kissed her husband. 

You and Bob danced until your feet hurt and he ended up carrying you in his arms back to his truck at the end of the night. There was too much excitement in the air to just go home and go to sleep, so instead, Bob drove you out to the old Oak tree in the middle of his family’s ranch. The night was clear and you could see all of the stars from where you laid in the back of his truck. He put a blanket down so you wouldn’t dirty your dress and you would be somewhat comfortable. 

Though stargazing only lasted so long, and soon enough you were in a heated make out session in the back of Bob’s truck. His hands were grazing all over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands tugged on his long locks, his curls curling a bit under his ears. You loved his longer hair, you thought it made him look perfectly older. 

“Bob,” You moaned as he kissed your neck. 

“Yeah?” He asked, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Make me yours,” You said barely above a whisper. Bob pulled away from you and looked at you. 

“Are-are you sure?” He asked, caressing your cheek, “We don’t have to do anything just cause it’s prom night. Hell, that’s such a dumb-” You cut him off by kissing him. 

“Bobby,” You said, holding his jaw with your hand, “Make me yours.” 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, honeybee,” Bob said, his voice a bit raspy as he leaned back in and kissed you. You guys fell into a frenzy of roaming hands and kisses, stripping each other of your clothes. You guys looked at each other, having to see each other naked and being intimate for the first time. You laid under Bob, eyes roaming all over his body, “You are even more perfect than I imagined,”

“You imagined me?” You smirked and Bob blushed.

“Once or twice,” He said and leaned in to kiss you, “Do you want to do this?” He asked you again, his blue eyes full of love.

“Make me yours, Bobby.”

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

You had been sicker than a dog for nearly three weeks. Bob was starting to worry when you missed yet another day of school, but you were just too weak to even climb out of bed. He had gathered your homework and planned on stopping by to give it to you after school. But the frantic text from you had him rushing into the parking lot and speeding to get to you. 

You were sitting on the couch in tears when he arrived, your mother and father sitting across from you. Bob felt like he just walked into the middle of an intervention, the air was thick with tension. He called out for you, but you shook your head and your father stood up from his chair. 

“Robert Floyd,” Your father’s voice was gruff and all Bob could do was nod, “You got my little girl pregnant?” Bob’s head snapped to you and you seemed to be crying harder than before. 

“I’m so sorry,” You cried and Bob looked back at your dad and nodded. Your mom let out a gasp and left the room quickly, not being able to look at you any longer. 

Your father ran a hand down his face and then put his hands on his hips. His eyes looked at you, “Get out of my house, Beatrice.” 

“Daddy,” You stood up from the couch.

“Wait, Mr. Clark-” 

“You disobeyed the bible!” Your father’s voice was loud and rattled you to your core. Bob watched as you began shaking like a leaf in the wind, “I will not have a sinner and a bastard child under my roof! Look what you did to your mother!” Your dad pointed to the direction your mother went crying, “Gather your things, and get out of my house.” 

Your father stormed out of the room, leaving you and Bob alone. Bob quickly rushed to your side and wrapped you up in his arms. You held onto him tightly, afraid he might disappear on you. Sobs racked your body as Bob tried to shush your tears. 

“Shh, honeybee, breathe,” Bob said, rubbing your back. He couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes at the sound of your cries. He wasn’t 100% sure what was going on other than the fact that you were possibly pregnant and your parents had just kicked you out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You said and Bob pulled back from you. He gently held your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumb, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Bobby, you have to believe-” 

“I’m not blaming you for anything,” Bob shook his head, “Is what your dad said true? You’re pregnant?” 

You nodded and sniffled, “I haven’t been feeling good for weeks, and I missed my period. I drove to Davis to the drug store and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, quit apologizing, alright,” Bob said and kissed your forehead, “We’re gonna get through this, together. I’m not leaving you.” 

“What about the Navy? Bob, you have been dreaming of that since you were a kid.” One of  the first things Bob had told you back in the fifth grade, while you dangling upside down from the monkey bars was that he wanted to join the Navy. His dad had been in for a couple years to pay off his student debt, and he loved it. Bob had grown up watching air shows in Virginia beach during the Fourth of July. 

“I’ll figure it out. Whatever you want,” Bob said, and took both your hands in his, “You and this baby are my future, okay,” You nodded and bit your lip as brand new tears threatened to spill. 

“I have no place to go,” You cried and Bob shook his head. 

“Yes you do,” He said, “What do you need? I’ll go get it.” You rattled off a couple items that you can think of off the top of your head and Bob ran up to your room and packed you a bag. Your parents were hiding in the kitchen, far away from you and Bob. They must’ve really been ashamed of you if they couldn’t even say anything as Bob guided you out to his truck. 

The ride to the Floyd ranch was painfully silent. You looked out the window the whole time, resting your hand on your stomach. Bob would steal glances over at you every once in a while. You had stopped crying which was a plus, but your cheeks and nose were still red. When you pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, Bob jogged around to your side of the truck and helped you out. He held your hand the whole time as you walked into the house, the smell of dinner hitting both of your noses. You both could hear Elizabeth Floyd yelling at her younger kids, and the squeals of children running around. 

“Allison Floyd, if you don’t stop messing with your sister!” Elizabeth’s voice was firm as you and Bob walked into the kitchen. She took one look at you and knew what was going on. Call it a mother’s intuition. 

“She needs a place to stay. . . for a while,” Bob said and Elizabeth nodded. 

“You can take Benny’s room down in the basement,” Elizabeth said. You nodded and took your bag from Bob’s hands and made your way down to the familiar room that the eldest Floyd child once inhabited. When you were out of ear shot, Elizabeth looked at her son, “Her parents found out?” 

“Yeah,” Bob said, placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, “Kicked her out. I didn’t even know until I got there”

“And what are you gonna do? You gonna step up?” 

Bob nodded, “Of course. That’s my baby. I’m not gonna leave her high and dry. I’ll do whatever she wants to do.” 

“You better not, Robert Floyd. I raised you better than that. Now,” Elizabeth said and walked over to the pantry. Bob watched her a bit confused until she walked out with a sleeve of saltine crackers and a ginger ale, “Go give these to her. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t kept anything down in days.” 

Bob nodded again and took the items from his mom’s hands, “How did you know?”  

Elizabeth sighed, “Cause I had that same look on my face when we told your grandparents I was pregnant with Ben. Now go on, no time for questions.” 

“Thank you,” Bob said and went downstairs to find you.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x oc #Robert floyd #Robert bob floyd #bob & bea #opposites attract things! #top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine

[bobgasm]

kingpin masterlist

ROBERT “BOB” FLOYD X OFC!EMERY YOUNG

MOB!AU

summary: in which responding to an advert for a job lands a down-on-her-luck accountant in bed with the local mob—in more ways than one… alternatively: in which he runs this motherfucking town warnings: eventual smut, nsfw [18+ only], alcohol, violence, character death, slow burn, slight age gap [f24/m30], suspicious behaviour, general mob shit word count: [tbd]

author’s note: well, well, well. if it isn’t user bobgasm with a new fic

ongoing | masterlist

⦾ prologue ⦾ one ⦾ two ⦾ three ⦾ four ⦾ five ⦾ six ⦾ seven ⦾ eight ⦾ nine ⦾ ten ⦾ eleven ⦾ twelve ⦾ thirteen ⦾ fourteen ⦾ fifteen ⦾ sixteen ⦾ seventeen ⦾ eighteen ⦾ nineteen ⦾ twenty more to be added…

other content:

bought a hat moodboard gun for hire moodboard kingpin moodboard underboss moodboard kingpin playlist

oneshots:

⦾ bought a hat [fanboy] ⦾ gun for hire [hangman] ⦾ roll with the punches [payback] ⦾ underboss [coyote] ⦾ you and me [bob]

want more mafia!tgm? check out:

⦾ by the skin of your teeth by @goldenseresinretriever ⦾ illicit affairs by @bobfloydsbabe ⦾ two birds by @sailor-aviator

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fanfic #mafia!au #mafia!bob floyd #mob!bob floyd #mob!au #*kingpin

[blue-aconite]

Locked In jake seresin x reader 

My Place is Here  jake seresin x reader

Last Trip Around The Sun jake seresin x reader 

Family Reunion jake seresin x oc 

The Night is Calling | the fic jake seresin x reader 

Never Have I Ever.... Until You jake seresin x reader 

Me and The Devil jake seresin x reader 

When The Sun Rises jake seresin x reader 

Non-Believer jake seresin x reader

Clover and Roses jake seresin x reader

Golden In Our Hearts bradley bradshaw x reader 

More Than This bradley bradshaw x reader 

Where Does It End, Where Do We Start? bradley bradshaw x reader 

Something In the Water bradley bradshaw x reader 

Yesterday, today and tomorrow bradley bradshaw x reader 

Goddess in the Sheets bradley bradshaw x reader

Left for Dead bradley bradshaw x reader

Welcome Home Baby Bird bradley bradshaw x oc

Stargazer's daughter bob floyd x oc  

Let Go bob floyd x reader 

In the Stars bob floyd x reader

Taking Attendance bob floyd x oc

The Wind Blows bob floyd x reader | jake seresin x reader

Broken Hearts Can Still Soar javy machado x reader 

Wasted Time javy machado x oc

Any Stranger I Choose reuben fitch x reader

Once in a Lifetime | the fic  mickey garcia x reader

Make It Happen bradley bradshaw x natasha trace

Lightning Strikes mickey garcia x bob floyd 

I Look Better Naked bradley bradshaw x jake seresin 

My Hands in Yours javy machado x natasha trace

The Way You Smile charlie young x reader

#fe writes #fake fanfic titles #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x oc #javy machado x reader #javy machado x oc #reuben fitch x reader #mickey garcia x reader #bradley bradshaw x natasha trace #mickey garcia x bob floyd #charlie young x reader #bradley bradshaw x jake seresin #natasha trace x javy machado #bradley bradshaw x oc

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.

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

Length: 2800 words

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

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

Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck. 

Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.

He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob. 

"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."

Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."

She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.

"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."

He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."

"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."

Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder. 

"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"

She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.

"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."

"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"

"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.

"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."

"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"

"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."

Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was. 

"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"

Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."

Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house. 

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

"Dr. Webber."

Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.

In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.

"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help. 

She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.

It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look. 

The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.

WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!

If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.

Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch. 

If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again. 

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."

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

"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."

But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale. 

"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison. 

It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.

With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"

"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet. 

"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."

Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?

But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.

"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."

"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"

Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.

"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now. 

"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."

Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"

"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself. 

She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches. 

"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.

"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"

"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.

"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."

"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."

Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.

"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.

Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head. 

"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot. 

Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"

"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?" 

"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"

"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"

"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"

"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"

"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."

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

Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

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@the-fever-of-mankind

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@cottagecori

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#bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Romancing the Navy's Princess - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Fem!OC (Maya Kazansky-Mitchell)

Word Count: 2.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are +18 only. MINORS DNI!

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sexual Content; One Night Stands; Light Angst; Background IceMav; Named OC (Maya), who is ADOPTED, No Reference to Physical Description/Appearance; Implications Along the Lines of the 'Bob Fucks' Agenda

Summary: Bob is not the type of guy to hook up with a random woman in his car. Maya something-or-other changes that streak. Except Maya something-or-other turns out to actually be Maya Kazansky-Mitchelli.

Bob was not usually one for a one-night stand. He was not one to chat up random women at bars and then hook up with them in the back of his car. He was not usually the type to even entertain the idea of doing anything like that.

But this night was different, for whatever reason.

Maybe it was because the Dagger Squad chose to go to a civilian bar rather than the Hard Deck. Maybe it was because he put in his contacts—even though he hated them—on a whim. Maybe it was because he was just a little bit touch-starved and desperate.

Or maybe it was simply her.

Maya.

Maya something-or-other.

He didn’t know her last name.

It didn’t come up when she accidentally spilled her drink on him. It didn’t come up when she stuttered and stammered as she tried to help him clean up afterwards. It didn’t come up after he told her to not worry about it and invited her to sit down and chat. And it didn’t come up when she asked him if he wanted to leave with her after talking for the better part of two hours.

And, well, that little detail seemed pretty irrelevant right now.

The windows were fogged up as Bob tried to catch his breath. Maya rested her head against his shoulder and he could feel her chest rise and fall as well. Trailing his hands up and down her side, Bob gave her hips a light squeeze that made Maya smile and press a kiss to his shoulder. And that only made Bob’s heart swell all the more.

“Did you finish?” Bob asked her quietly, causing Maya to send him a giddy smile as she bit her lip.

“Yeah, I did,” she assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.  

“You don’t have to try and protect my ego or anything,” Bob replied, causing Maya to sit up a bit.

“If I thought that telling you whether or not I finished would bruise your ego or something like that, I would have been left by now,” Maya told him honestly, trailing her fingers along his bare chest. “And I’m still here . . . so, do the math.”

“Okay,” Bob chuckled, rubbing her hips again.

He pressed a kiss to her chin that caused Maya to let out a breath of amusement. Leaning down, she cupped his cheeks and stole a few more kisses from Bob. And, well, Bob was certainly not complaining about any of it. Pulling back with a giggly grin, Maya stared down at Bob for a moment, simply taking in his presence for a moment.

“Would it be crazy if I said that we should do this again some time?” Maya asked softly, trailing her fingers down his arm.

Bob smiled and grabbed her hand with his own. Threading their fingers together, Bob pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Maya practically beamed at the simple affection and sat up a bit more.

“Not at all,” Bob agreed, trying to not sound too desperate to see her again. Even if he was. Holy hell, he was already hooked on this woman. “This weekend?”

“Saturday night?” Maya suggested in return.

“It’s a date,” Bob stated, causing Maya to smile bashfully.

“It’s a date,” she repeated quietly.

Leaning down, she pulled him in for another kiss. She tangled her hand in his hair and drew him closer. Bob happily reciprocated and let his hands wander all over again. Just when Bob was about to suggest another round, Maya’s phone started to buzz from a phone call.

Maya pulled back from the kiss and leaned over to check her phone. Bob pressed a set of kisses to her neck while she fumbled to find her phone, hoping to get her to refocus on him. But then Maya must have seen whoever was calling her because she cursed and pulled back entirely. Sitting up, she hurried to fix her clothes and hair while Bob sat there, a bit dumbfounded.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” Maya apologized, leaning over to give Bob a parting kiss. He was too stunned to properly return it. “But I’ll see you Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Bob trailed off as Maya slipped out of his car.

“Goodnight, Bob,” she called with a soft smile. “And sorry again.”

Bob sat dumbfounded, wondering how one phone call changed Maya’s demeanor so significantly in the span of about five seconds. He watched her hurry over and climb into her own car and drive off into the night. Sitting in his car alone for a moment, Bob slowly sat up.

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, especially because every moment that he spent with Maya before she darted off felt like something out of a rom com. Phoenix did warn him about his tendency to fall hard and fast, but Maya reciprocated that. She was the one who suggested seeing each other again. Rubbing his face tiredly, Bob let out a groan.

This was why he didn’t do one-night stands. This was why he shouldn’t do one-night stands.

~~~~~

“What do you mean she just left?” Phoenix asked, openly frowning.

“One second we were making out and the next second she got some phone call and had to leave,” Bob sighed, tapping his pen anxiously.

“Did you see who the phone call was from?”

“No,” Bob muttered, trying to just focus on the paperwork in front of him. “And I already know what you’re going to say.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Phoenix replied somewhat defensively, though her expression gave it away.

“I’ll say it,” Hangman spoke up, walking over to Phoenix and Bob’s table. “It was probably her husband or her boyfriend.” Hangman clapped Bob on the shoulder, despite Bob’s rather dark look in his direction. “Congrats on becoming a side piece, Bob.”

“Fuck off, Hangman,” Phoenix snapped on Bob’s behalf.

“What? You were thinking it!”

“It could have been the babysitter,” Coyote added, wrapping an arm around Hangman’s shoulders. “Maybe she’s got kids and didn’t want to tell you about them.”

“That’s a good one,” Hangman agreed, high-fiving his wingman.

“Or maybe it was something else that has nothing to do with anything like that,” Fanboy suggested, trying to be supportive of Bob. Even if Fanboy was a little suspicious about the whole thing himself. “I mean, you knew her for only a couple of hours. Maybe it was just her roommate or something, who only calls in emergencies.”

“A roommate like a husband,” Hangman retorted, causing Bob to scowl.

“Bagman, you have five seconds—” Bob started to warn him.

“—Why the hell are you guys still here?” Payback called, walking into the room. “We’re supposed to be at Mav’s for dinner right now.”

“If you’re so concerned about that, why are you still here right now?” Fanboy asked his pilot, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re going to be late too.”

“Because I have to constantly check on you guys,” Payback sighed, sounding like a tired dad.

“Maverick texted you, didn’t he?” Phoenix deadpanned.

“Yeah, he did, so let’s go,” Payback announced, pointing at the door.

The six remaining Daggers headed out and started driving to the Kazansky-Mitchell house.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Dagger Squad to spend time up there. Maverick and Ice had a pool and a large kitchen that was always stocked with food now that Maverick was retired and Iceman was just working through the last few months of his contract before he would retire as well. And it was far larger than any of the apartments that the other Daggers lived in.

Bob sat in Phoenix’s passenger seat, a bit pouty, as Phoenix drove through the winding roads. He was severely annoyed after that whole conversation. Mostly because he had those thoughts himself already and now that he was convinced that he wasn’t crazy for thinking that, he was even more frustrated. And he was also annoyed because he didn’t think that he should be annoyed.

After all, wasn’t that what one-night stands were? Just sex and nothing else? Why did he have to get so fucking attached so quickly?

“Don’t let Hangman get in your head about it,” Phoenix told Bob softly. “He’s just an asshole.”

“But what if he’s right?” Bob sighed, holding his head in his hands. “What if that’s really the situation? What if I just helped someone cheat?”

“Even if that was the case, you didn’t know,” Phoenix insisted immediately, shooting Bob a look to take a breath. “And you don’t even know that’s the situation. Don’t jump to conclusions. Just take a breath and you can deal with it on Saturday.”

Bob simply let out a groan in response to Phoenix and hit his head against his head rest. Phoenix patted his shoulder with a simple ‘there-there’ kind of way that just caused Bob to sigh and sink into his seat further. Phoenix glanced up the road to see the Kazansky-Mitchell driveway only a few seconds up the remaining hill.

“Besides, we’re here. Just enjoy the good food.”

Bob pulled his hands away from his face and sat up a bit, trying to take a little bit of Phoenix’s advice. He should just focus on what was right in front of him and nothing else. And that was a great plan. Up until what was right in front of him was an oddly familiar car.

Maya’s car, to be more specific.

“Bob?” Phoenix called, confused and a little concerned about him.

“That’s her car,” Bob mumbled out.

“What?”

“That’s her car,” Bob stated more firmly, pointing at the vehicle. “That’s Maya’s car, Phoenix.”

“Bob, that’s a very common car,” Phoenix replied softly, trying to get him to focus.

“I swear that’s her car,” Bob insisted, turning to his best friend. “She had that college sticker on her car. I know that she did, Phoenix.”

“I believe you, Bob,” Phoenix assured him as she turned off her car. “But she’s probably not the only person to have that college sticker or that car. Especially in southern California.”

“Fine,” Bob sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Maybe I’m just starting to see things.”

“Hey, you put yourself out there for the first time in a while. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Phoenix and Bob climbed out of Phoenix’s car and headed inside the Kazansky-Mitchell home. They were the last of the Daggers to arrive and moved to quickly join the rest outside on the back porch. Maverick was over by the grill, chatting with Fanboy and Payback. Ice was sitting down at the table, chatting with Hangman and Coyote.

“Hey, look who finally made it,” Fanboy called, causing Phoenix to scoff.

“You literally got here a minute ago.”

“Still counts!”

“How’s it going, Mav?”  Bob asked, causing the older aviator to smile.

“Just starting up the grill. Drinks are inside and Rooster and my daughter are in the middle of bringing out the rest of the food,” Maverick explained, gesturing towards the house.

“Your daughter?” Phoenix inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she moved back home for her new job. She’s staying with us until she finds an apartment,” Maverick replied with a proud smile.

“You have a daughter?” Bob questioned, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, we adopted her when she was a baby,” Maverick explained, turning to Bob with a softer smile. “She’s been living out on the East Coast for the last couple of years, so we haven’t gotten to see her that much lately. But now she’s home for a while.”

“Well, congrats, Mav,” Bob replied quietly, trying to not sweat through his shirt.

Maya’s car was in the driveway. She was living at home.

Things were starting to add up and Bob wasn’t liking the direction that they were heading in.

And, almost with comedic timing, the glass door to the house opened right behind Bob and Phoenix. Bob turned around and stared at Maya, who was chatting with Rooster as they carried out some sides and appetizers. And when Maya finally locked eyes with Bob, she froze as well.

“Phoenix, Bob, this is Ice and my daughter, Maya. Maya, this is Phoenix and Bob,” Maverick introduced, gesturing between them casually before going back to grilling.

“Hi,” Maya breathed out awkwardly.

“Hi,” Bob returned, just as painfully awkward.

She wasn’t Maya something-or-other anymore. She was Maya Kazansky-Mitchell. She was Ice and Mav’s daughter. She was the COMPACFLT’s daughter. She was his mentor’s daughter.  

Now, this was why he shouldn’t have one-night stands.

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #robert bob floyd x oc #tgm fanfiction #tgm #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun #bob top gun #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd x oc #bob x oc #top gun bob #bob floyd fic

[bobfloydsbabe]

burning flames | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: A heated argument reaches a fever pitch for Bob and his TA.

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, mutual jealousy, SMUT (fingering), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

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SPECIAL THANKS to @cherrycola27 for letting me rant about professor bob and for sending thots when i ask for them. you're a real one.

A/N: very loosely inspired by the song style by taylor swift for the wonderful @laracrofted's 1989TGM writing celebration. this was supposed to be a mob boss bob fic, but that made me cry, so i switched gears and now here we are. i'm sorry this is so late, ames. enjoy!

“That’s all we have time for today. You’re dismissed.” He closes his book and listens to the sound of laptop lids being shut, chairs scraping against the old wooden floor, and chatter amongst his students. It’s a sound he’ll never tire of, no matter how long he teaches.

One sound is distinctly different, though. The sound of her voice. Sweet and soft. Lifting his eyes, he sees her talking to one of his students. Mike something. He can’t quite remember, but she laughs and puts her hand on his arm, making Bob clench his jaw.

Another student, Alicia, comes to his desk to talk about the upcoming assignment and what she can do to improve her grade. Normally, he would tell her to make an appointment at his office, but then Imogen laughs again, making heady eyes at that Mike guy, and he decides he has all the time in the world to talk to Alicia.

He tries to pay attention to his student, to answer her questions, and even tries to smile, but he can feel Imogen looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Her dark gaze is intense and sets his skin on fire in a way he’s been trying to ignore for weeks.

“So,” he hears Mike say. “What are your plans this weekend?”

Bob freezes. He lets his eyes wander over to Imogen, who’s still smiling. Next to him, Alicia is still talking, but her voice is far away and barely audible as he focuses on his assistant.

“I’m revising my dissertation proposal,” she tells him. “They rejected the last one for being too broad, so I have to narrow it down.”

Bob’s on that committee and strongly disagreed, but other members outnumbered him and he was forced to dissent. Dr. Kazansky had given her the news, and Bob remembers the heartbroken look in her eyes when she came to his office afterward. He’d wanted to comfort her then.

“Too busy to have dinner with me?”

Bob straightens his back, eyes still trained on Imogen as he dismisses Alicia, telling her to make an appointment if she wishes to discuss things further.

She mutters a thank you and scurries away. Imogen opens her mouth to answer, but Bob interrupts, certain he doesn’t want to hear the answer she’ll likely provide to this Mike character.

“Miss Van Doren,” he says, barely recognizing the hardness in his own voice. “My office. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond, but gathers his books and leaves the lecture hall without a glance back to see if she’s following. It doesn’t take long for him to hear her marching footsteps behind him, so he leaves the door open for her.

She slams it shut, so it rattles on the hinges.

“What is your problem?”

She’s furious. Nostrils flared, heavy breathing, and a delicious flush paints her cheeks pink.

“My problem?” he asks, placing the books on his desk. “What’s your problem?”

She drops her bag to the floor and crosses her arms in front of her chest. The gold necklace with her initial catches in the light, drawing his eyes down.

“I don’t have a problem,” she insists, taking a step toward him. “But you constantly berating me is getting old.”

He says nothing. He can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like she wants to wring his neck. Not when all the blood in his body is racing south, and he’s trying not to look at her legs, but they are on full display in that tight little skirt she’s wearing. Again.

He swears she’s doing it on purpose to rile him up.

He hates that it’s working.

She takes a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back, and looks up into his eyes. He’s always found hers unsettling, like she sees the parts of him he’s been hiding for decades.

“I know you don’t want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she says, gesturing around his office, making her short skirt even shorter, revealing more of her supple thighs. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, but you could at least show me the courtesy of not undermining me every time I talk to students.”

He frowns. “I don’t undermine you.”

She scoffs, gaze leaving him as her frustration fills the room. “You interrupted my conversation with Michael not five minutes ago,” she argues as her eyes find his again. Dark brown meeting ocean blue.

He steps forward, eyes wandering over every inch of her exposed skin, making his head spin with barely contained desire. “It was an inappropriate conversation.”

“He asked about my dissertation.”

Bob shakes his head. “No, he asked you out.”

“So what?” she throws her hands out to the side, exasperation turning into full-blown anger now. “He’s been trying to ask me out for weeks, but you always manage to interrupt. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you do it on purpose.”

He freezes. His heart’s beating painfully in his chest and his face feels like it’s on fire. There may even be steam coming out of his ears.

He watches Imogen run her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots, and he truly wishes she wouldn’t. It’s conjuring up very vivid images in his head that he shouldn’t have of his teaching assistant.

She looks at him expectantly, thinking an answer is going to come, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to respond to that in a way that’ll make sense to her. It barely even makes sense to himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Bob says finally.

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, he treats me better than you do, and I know that’s a really low bar, but it’s better than—”

Bob crashes his lips against hers, swallowing the gasp she emits. For a moment nothing happens, and for a second he thinks he’s made a grave mistake, but then Imogen’s arms circle around his waist and she sighs against his mouth. 

He walks her backward until her back hits the wall behind his desk, and he presses her against it, trying to get closer.

He pulls away a few inches to look at her. Cheeks flushed, hair a little out of place, and pupils dilated. She’s never looked more delectable, and he knows she can feel his hard cock against her hip. He doesn’t care.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes search his face for something, but it’s unclear whether she finds it. “Why did you do that?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. There’s no hint of regret, but the rational part of him knows this is a bad idea. He’s her superior, after all.

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you kissed me?” she asks with an adorable wrinkle between her brows.

He frowns. Now sure he’s misjudged the situation, Bob leans back and squares his shoulders, letting his hands fall away from her neck.

“Oh no,” she tuts and grabs a handful of his sweater, pulling him back in. “Get back here.” She stands on her tiptoes and captures his mouth with her own, tongue dancing at the seam of his lips for entry.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leans his weight against her, pushing her against the wall, and groans into her mouth when she tugs on his hair.

His hands travel down her body. Grazing across the swell of her breasts, into the dip of her waist, the hips that have occupied his thoughts for weeks, and finally, her thighs. His lips never leave hers, and his tongue explores her mouth and the taste of mint that lingers from her toothpaste.

Imogen shudders as his fingertips tickle the back of her knees, whimpering at the touch.

His hands slide up the back of her bare thighs, feeling her soft skin under his palms. She moans into his mouth and it’s the most arousing sound he’s ever heard. He can’t help the roll of his hips, desperate for friction, for relief, for something warmer than his own hand.

His hands travel up under her skirt, feeling the plumpness of her ass in his hands make him push against her again and she’s meeting him with her own movement.

“Professor,” she moans, as he trails wet kisses along her throat, running his tongue over the skin afterward.

He hums, kneading her ass-cheeks, growing harder as he rocks against her. Even separated by layers of fabric, the friction is enough to drive him mad.

“Dr. Floyd,” she says, pulling his hair hard enough that his lips detach from her throat. Her pupils are wide and hungry, mirroring his own, and their heavy breaths mix in arousing unison. “I’m still mad at you.”

A smug smirk spreads across his face. “I know,” he says and removes one hand from her ass. He uses it to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t go out with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words hang in the air. Bob keeps one hand on the side of her neck while the other remains under her skirt, playing with the edge of her panties. He holds her gaze, waiting for her to make the next move. To tell him where she stands, what she wants.

He sees the moment she decides, the corner of her mouth turning upward just enough to be a smile.

“Show me.”

Yanking her panties to the side, his fingertips glide along her folds, feeling her already soaking for him. Her mouth forms a perfect o as she gasps, and he wonders what else that pretty and vicious mouth can do.

Her fingers curl into the hair at his nape, gasping when he finds her clit. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, kissing the underside of her jaw.

“Professor,” she whimpers. “Please.”

“Come on,” he says, leaning back to watch her. Her brown doe eyes have gone dark with hunger and desire, arousal clear from the bead of sweat on her temple, and his cock is so hard he’s about to go insane. Yet, he still leans in close, his lips featherlight against her ear and whispers “moan for me.”

He leans back just in time to catch the look in her eyes when he presses his thumb against her clit and she lets herself moan. Louder than he expected, so his hand flies over her mouth, keeping her quiet, but feeling her smile beneath his palm.

His thumb massages her clit while his index finger finds her entrance, warmth begging him to enter. Bob meets Imogen’s eyes, asking without saying the words because he doesn’t trust either of them to keep their voices down.

Her nod sends him to heaven.

She moans into his hand as his finger slides inside her. He’s hot all over, groaning into her neck at the sensation of her. “So fucking tight,” he mumbles against her skin, making her clench around him.

Tightening her arms around his shoulders, she whimpers against his palm, and her hips meet his motions as he pumps his finger inside her. Her juices spread across his hand, and before long, he adds a second finger.

His office fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans from Imogen, and barely contained groans from himself. He can feel her getting close, her legs trembling, struggling to stay upright. Leaning his forehead against hers, he removes his hand from her mouth. “Quiet,” he mutters against her lips.

She nods as she kisses him, open-mouthed and desperate, and his thumb draws tight circles on her clit as he angles his fingers against that spot inside her. She’s there. He knows it. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Cum for me.”

She does. Gushes around his fingers, writhing in his arms. He guides her through her high, holding her against the wood-paneled wall behind her. Her head falls against his shoulder as she comes down, and a long whine escapes her throat as he withdraws his fingers.

Leaning back to give her a little space, he takes in her unkempt hair, swollen lips, and the breathtaking pink flush in her cheeks. Her eyes flick down to his hand, then turn to the very obvious bulge in his slacks.

“I–”

She takes his hand, the one with fingers covered in her cum, and brings it to her lips. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she closes her mouth around his digits, swirling her tongue around them, tasting herself. He’s entranced, can’t stop watching her when she hums as if it’s the most delicious meal she’s ever had.

She withdraws his fingers with a pop, letting his hand fall back at his side. They stay there, looking at each other, processing what just happened between them. Not only is she his teaching assistant, but he’s on her dissertation committee. He has power and influence, and while she’s not his student, he is her superior.

“I…” he tries again, but trails off.

She smirks, squaring her shoulders. “Close your mouth, Dr. Floyd,” she says and sidesteps him, adjusting her skirt. “You’re too smart to be a mouth breather.”

She crosses the office, gathering her bag from the floor where she dropped it, and he gets a peek at her panties as she bends over. White lace. His slacks have never felt tighter.

Unsure what to say or do, he stands there watching while Imogen tries to make her hair look presentable. “Alright,” she mumbles after a minute. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closes behind her, leaving Bob in his office, surrounded by books, paper, a chessboard, a laptop he’s forced to own, and the memory of his TA coming undone on his fingers.

There’s only one word to describe the situation he now finds himself in.

“Fuck.”

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @roosterforme, @kmc1989, @bradshawsbaby, @cherrycola27, @wkndwlff, @yanna-banana, @bluezraven, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @hangmandruigandmav, @keyrani, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @solo-pitstop-vibes, @yuckosworld, @have-a-nice-day-k, @writingshae, @the-whitegirl-is-back, @dizzydisaster, @floydsmuse

#1989TGM #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #top gun maverick #tgm fic #lewis pullman #eccentric professor bob #professor bob #oc: imogen van doren #otp: bob x imogen #fic: gold rush #helenawrites #helena writes #mywriting #writtenbyme #madebyme #enjoy darlings #this is the first time i'm posting like actual smut in an actual fic #i'm nervous

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Forever and Ever, Amen - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Forever and Ever, Amen by Randy Travis. It's a cute song and it feels Bob coded imo. It's not a religious song other than the word "amen" being used.

pairing:  Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 1k

Mornings were never particularly easy for you, but mornings before Bob had to leave for a mission were on the verge of unbearable. At the start of your relationship, they were less frequent, only a few times scattered throughout those first few months of the honeymoon period, spoiling you with plenty of opportunities to spend time together in the early stages. Now at the end of your first year together, it felt like Bob was gone every 4-6 weeks, sometimes just to come home and leave again a day or two later. 

You breathed a heavy, reluctant sigh as you hit snooze on your phone and rolled over to face Bob in bed, who was just reaching over for his glasses. He adjusted them on his face and hummed softly, almost looking defeated as he faced you.

“That time already?” He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, “I don’t want to go this time.”

“I don’t want you to go either, but I don’t think we get a choice in the matter, Bobby,” you sighed heavily as you turned on to your side, a frown forming on your lips as you looked at him. He shut his deep blue eyes for a minute and sighed.

“Alright, we have time for breakfast together first, right?” He said quietly, a strained smile on his face as he looked to you, trying to mask his sadness and frustration with his chosen line of work in this moment.

“Of course we do, you start getting ready, I’ll go make breakfast, yeah?”

Bob pressed his lips to your cheek in a loving kiss as he sat up, frowning as he looked out the window. You reluctantly got yourself up, padding down the hall to the kitchen, leaving Bob alone for a moment to collect his thoughts as he got himself prepared to go out again. The smell of fresh cooked bacon and eggs wafted through the house as you made breakfast for the two of you, the warm rays of the early morning sun came pouring through the window. 

Bob came up behind you, gently snaking his arm around your waist as you poured him a cup of orange juice. He pressed his nose into the back of your hair as he murmured a soft spoken “I love you”. You set the glass down on the counter before turning to face him, forcing a happy smile to hide the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes as you caught sight of him in his uniform khakis. You adjusted his name tag for him, nodding your head once as you brushed any lint off his shoulders. You breathed in the smell of his aftershave, cupping your hands on either side of his face as you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“There, now you look perfect,” You gave him a nod of approval as you handed him his glass from the counter.

“Wait,” He shook his head and laughed as he set the glass on the table, “I need you to promise me something.”

“Promise you what, exactly?” Your brows furrowed together into a frown that probably appeared more like a pout than mild frustration.

“Promise me you don’t forget that I love you?”

“What on earth kind of promise is that, Bobby? Of course I’m not going to forget.”

“Just promise me, ok? You’ve had to be without me a lot lately, and I feel bad, but I want you to always remember that I love you, and I spend the entire time thinking about how I want to come home to you.”

“Alright,” you nodded your head as you looked at your feet, blinking back tears as you took a breath to collect yourself before looking back up at him, “I promise.”

 “Good, don’t make me sing that song to you,” He flashed a bright grin at you before pressing his lips to your forehead in an affectionate kiss. 

“What song might that be?”

“You’re really gonna make me sing it, aren’t you?” 

“You betcha, Robert”

Bob let out a playful sigh as he grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate on the table and bit into it carefully, being mindful not to make a mess out of his uniform. He swallowed his mouthful and rolled his eyes before clearing his throat and breaking out into song. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna love you forever, forever and ever amen, As long as old men sit and talk about the weather–”

“As long as old women sit and talk about old men —” you chimed in, harmonizing with Bob as he sang.

“If you wonder how long I’ll be faithful, I’d be happy to tell you again, I’m gonna love you, forever and ever, forever and ever, amen”.

Bob smirked as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Happy now?”

“Mhmm, how long was it you said you’d love me for again?” You returned his smirking glance, biting your lip to hold back a giggle. 

“Forever and ever, baby.”

“That’s what I thought. If I ever feel like I’m forgetting, I’ll just listen to that song until I remember, deal?”

“Perfect,” Bob nodded his head as he kissed you again before taking his seat at the table, quickly tucking into his breakfast.

A half hour later, as you say your goodbyes to one another at the base, you wave to Bob and give him a smile, refusing to let him see you upset as he leaves. Bob wraps you in his strong arms, enveloping your body as he gave you a passionate kiss. 

“Remember, forever and ever, baby,” he whispered softly as he held you tight.

“Forever and ever,” Your voice echoing his as you gave a subtle nod, breathing in his scent and taking in as much of him as you could, committing it all to memory before letting him go for any stretch of time again.

“Forever and ever, amen,” Bob grinned.

#lt. robert floyd #lt. bob floyd #bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #lt. robert floyd x reader #lt. bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd x ofc #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc

[bradshawsbaby]

Bob & Imogen from gold rush by @bobfloydsbabe ✨

#helena i hope i did them justice #i just love them so much #bob x imogen #bob floyd #bob floyd x oc #eccentric professor bob #bradshawsbaby mood board #lewis pullman