#bob x sweet pea

[jupitercomet]

this is for the og Boxer Bob Baddie™ @bradshawsbitch I don't really know what to tell you besides otter Bob supremacy

warnings - language, mentions of violence, brief mentions of blood, soft Bob

sweeter than sugar masterlist

Jake would be the first to admit that he didn’t know Bob especially well. By the time Bob had started fighting at Maverick’s, Jake had already left for Texas. And while, yes, it did mildly irritate Jake that Bob had been able to cut out a place for himself where Jake couldn’t, he couldn’t even focus on being mad about that because he was too busy trying to figure out how the hell a guy like Bob ended up where he is.

Jake hadn’t thought anything of him when he first walked into Maverick’s again. Bradley, he knew, and some of the other fighters too, but the first time he laid eyes on Bob, he found him easily forgettable and hardly chalked him up to being a threat. And yet somehow he was? Other boxers whispered about him like he was some sort of ghost story—a fighter so great he’d been immortalized like a Greek god. Bradley respected him too, which was already enough for Jake to question his initial judgment on the dirty blond. And you certainly don’t get the name Grim Reaper for nothing.

It was the first time Jake watched Bob fight when, suddenly, he understood what everyone was talking about.

To an onlooker, the kind of person who had never stepped into the ring and been in the position Jake and Bob have been in, there probably wouldn’t be a difference between the way Bob fights and the way everyone else does, but Jake knows better. Where a lot of fighters build up a strong vibrato, their ego only fueled with every punch they land (and don’t get him wrong, Jake is very much included in this category) Bob is different.

Bob doesn’t take pleasure in fighting the same way Jake does and he doesn’t lose himself in it—blacking out and acting on straight instinct—like Bradley does. No, Bob gets angry. And it’s a deep anger, an anger he’s clearly held onto for a very long time. Bob doesn’t fight to win, Bob fights like it’s imperative to his survival, and that difference is usually what results in his opponents being carried out on stretchers.

Bob leaves every fight in the ring but whatever anger he carries? That stays with him. And agreeing to fight Bob is like signing up to be the punching bag for all that anger. The difference between Bob and Jake is that Bob fights every fight like it’s personal. Jake will never admit it to anyone, but that fact is borderline terrifying.

Overtime, Jake’s perception of Bob shifted. No longer was he the quiet figure in the corner that Jake treated like just another object in the gym. Now he was the Grim Reaper, the guy all the boxers collectively agreed had probably spilled the most blood on their mats, despite him being around for the shortest amount of time. He was a guy that Jake respected and trusted, an ally to him and Bradley with all the shady shit going on around them. Jake could probably even call him a friend, but he had learned to never underestimate the formidable force that was Bob Floyd.

With all of that in mind, Jake feels like he shouldn’t be seeing this.

It had started off innocently. Jake had been passing by a delicious smelling bakery and couldn’t help but think that his girlfriend would probably like a snack once he picked her up from work. Quite literally, all he wanted was a croissant. Then he asked if they happened to have a bathroom, and they did, and he took care of his business with every intention of grabbing his food and going. Maybe he took a little long in the bathroom though, because when he got out—

“Bob! You can’t be back here!” 

Jake freezes, stopping just short of the half wall that would reveal him to the bakery floor. A giggle echoes through the small building and Jake peeks his head out just barely to confirm the sight in front of him.

You—the baker who had rang him up—is biting back a smile, clearly trying to focus on typing something into the cash register. Behind you, Bob’s towering body is wrapped around yours, his chin resting on your shoulder as he tries to distract you with light nips to your cheek. “No one’s here, sweet pea. ‘Sides, if you wanted to keep me out, your counters shouldn’t be so easy to jump over.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shake your head fondly and Bob’s arms travel down to tighten around your waist. He squeezes you gently, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

His knuckles are bruised—with his habit of fighting without gloves, they almost always are—and it’s weird to Jake to see the same hands he’s seen shatter jaws, wrap around you delicately. Honestly this whole thing is weird, like some alternate universe version of Bob that he’s never met.

“You gonna let me go?” You tease, once you finish up at the cash register.

Bob grumbles at just the suggestion. “No.”

“Bob—”

“Otters wrap their babies up to keep them from floating away, did you know that?” Bob interrupts you, his grip on you tightening, the veins on his arms slightly bulging at the effort. “I gotta make sure you don’t float away from me.”

You laugh, ruffling his hair before ultimately succumbing to his desires and leaning into his weight. “We’re not otters, Bob.”

“Well yeah, otters understand the importance of snuggling, unlike some people.” You let out a squeak of surprise when he nips at your pulse point.

You don’t say anything after that, letting Bob rock you slowly as his head hides in your neck. Jake’s looking for an exit that won’t reveal himself to you, feeling like he’s watching something he shouldn’t anymore. After a moment, you nudge Bob’s head with your cheek, waiting for him to raise his head so you can catch his lips gently.

“Why don’t I close early and we can go home.” You bat your lashes at him. “Then you can show me everything I should know about otter snuggling practices.”

Jake waits for the two of you to head into the kitchen before he rushes quickly out of the bakery. Outside, he looks down at the croissant in his hands as he processes what he’s just witnessed. Normally, he’d be living for this. He’d go into the gym tomorrow and tease the shit out of Bob and whatever his deal with otters was, and refuse to ever let it go. 

Jake spares the bakery another glance, letting out a breath because he knows that he’s actually not going to do any of that.

Really, all Jake can think is that he’s happy to know that, at least, Bob’s anger doesn’t seem to follow him everywhere. And as he continues on his walk once more, turning his back to the bakery, Jake decides that he’ll keep this moment to himself.

#bob floyd blurb #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd au #robert floyd blurb #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd au #bob x sweet pea #buggy's got a pen

[sebsxphia]

also thinking about soft sappy sex with bob because he’s such a lovesick little man. always telling you how much he loves you and how he can’t live without you as he cum like six times without even trying.

oh my god oh my god oh my god !!!!!!

no no wait wait lemme tell you something lemme tell you something !!!!!

lovesick.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ c/w: p in v, kissing, mentions of injury.

￫ a/n: thank you so much for this beautiful thot my sweet pea! my mind absolutely lost it thinking of bob coming six times, all because of you. 💌🫶🏼

you’ve got your bobby home after he had to eject during training. he’s exhausted and there are still some bruises littering his his upper arms and thighs. you leave him to rest for a day, but the next morning you can tell he’s perked up slightly by how tightly he’s holding you in his arms and feeling him rub up against you.

“my love, i’ve missed you so much.” he murmurs into your neck, brushing your hair away to place a million and one kisses all over your soft flesh.

he proceeds to move his lips over your shoulders, along your collar bone and over the squishy flesh on your belly. he’s repeating low and quietly “i love you, i love you, i love you.” he’s telling you these sweet nothings like it’s a secret between the two of you. like no one can fully comprehend the love you share for each other.

he presses soft kiss in between your supple flesh on your thighs and runs his tongue along your folds until your legs are shaking and you’re pulling tightly on his blonde strands of hair at the base of his neck. “i love you and i love this pretty cunt so much.” you feel his lips move against your pussy as he reminds you over and over again.

he grinds his hips into the cotton duvet and groans, his spend sticking to the bedsheets before he’s moving up to encase your body. one arm wrapped around your back and rubbing his fingertips along the underside of your breast, his other arm planted firmly in the mattress as he takes you again.

he’s only just come, but the feeling of his tip gathering the slick in your cunt gets him going again and he’s bottoming out into you with ease. your foreheads are stuck together with a sheen of sweat as he strums his fingers over your clit with a precision only known with wso’s. “i can’t live without you. i can’t. i love you, so much.”

your third wave of your orgasm washes over you and the feeling of your walls squeezing bobby makes him moan softly against your lips as he comes un-done inside of you for the third time. it’s like your bodies are matched up together, you’re perfectly in sync and this love sick little man is spilling his cum inside of you mitlple times without even having to think about it. all there is is the love he has for you and that’s enough.

#💌you’ve got mail #im gonna explode #im also gonna lie down #this got me GOOD #🪷 sweet pea #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n

[queenimmadolla]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

(dad!eddie x mom!reader)

Summary: Eddie has to shower before he can hold his impatient baby. She's having none of it.

a/n: i was attacked by yet ANOTHER cute baby tiktok so here we are with a little bit of grease monkey!eddie and another little drabble. set in the early days of the pennyverse. and yes, i've used this gif before but he's dead so i'm running out of them. mistakes might be fixed later, i dont know :)

“Are these your little fingers?” You asked your baby, tone saturated in honey and affection as you held the chunky palm in question, lips pressed to her pudgy fingertips. 

  Despite your aversion to it prior to your pregnancy, you’d inevitably developed a baby voice when Penny had come into the world and you couldn’t be blamed. Not when she was all squish, delicate cheeks holding so much chub they bulged, and rolls decorated her little limbs. She was a glutton, always demanding your milk and you couldn’t deny her; those big, gorgeous eyes she’d inherited from her father made it nearly impossible to, even when the wetness welling up in them were completely alligator tears. And those curls. 

  Regardless of taming them with some water, a brush and maybe some vaseline, they ended up wild, flying about or mussed and matted to her head with sweat because your baby was a little heater when she slept and napped. Just like her daddy.

  Your smile widened in size when you heard the sound of keys slotting into place at the front door, the lock mechanism giving away. It tripled when you realized your baby also recognized the sound, head turning to stare at the door as she bobbed in place, thick legs squatting and then popping back up as you held her by her waist with your other hand, assisting her with standing.

  The moment Eddie opened the door and came into view she began cooing and squealing in excitement, mouth parting in a wide smile as drool raced down from the corner of her mouth.

You laughed, and so did Eddie as he heard his baby welcoming him home.

  “You excited to see me, sweet pea?” He cooed right back, walking over to squat in front of the two of you, eyes raking over you momentarily in appreciation before focusing on the little one in your arms. 

  She let out another long coo that ended on an airy sigh, pulling her hand from your grasp to reach both of her pudgy ones out to him, practically begging him to hold her as she began wiggling in your arms.

  Eddie’s head tilted, lips curling into the most tender smile as he stared down at her with nothing but love swimming in those eyes he’d shared with her. 

  “Daddy missed you and mommy so much.” He whispered, a hand reaching out, almost close enough to caress her soft cheek but it hesitated before he could touch her. His rough, grease covered finger was a stark contrast to her clean, smooth skin. Clearly, you’d given her a bath before he got home because her mouth and cheeks were usually covered in the food you were starting to offer her (sometimes baby food, but mostly bits of your food because she wouldn’t accept any offerings of mushed up veggies and fruits if there was something else on your plate, hence why your diet had been pretty bland and not at all a result of the tight budget your maternity leave left you on).

The rest of his hands were no better, palms stained, streaks all over his arms as a result of shucking the top half of the monkey suit and rolling up his sleeves at the garage. 

  There were even a few streaks of grease and maybe oil on his face and neck. Your husband smelled more so of tires than he had the spicy cologne that surrounded you when he’d kissed you goodbye in bed this morning. 

  And he knew it.

  Penny didn’t let that stop her, still eagerly reaching out for him as she grunted to try and provoke him in swooping her up into his embrace.

  “As soon as daddy’s clean, okay? I’ll pick you up and my sweet girl can give me all the cuddles she wants.” He promised, hands on his knees before he stood back up, leaning over her to give you a sweaty, greasy oh so sweet and firm press of the lips kiss before he swiveled around and disappeared into the small bathroom as quickly as he could to be out of hearing range when Penny began whimpering at his absence. 

  You heard the shower start running at the exact moment she began to cry and you offered a sympathetic whine of your own as you adjusted your grip on her, bringing Penny up to your chest, your cheek smushed against her more plump one.

  “Shhh…it’s okay, my love. Daddy’s just showering. He’ll be back.” You stood up, hitching Penny on your hip as you walked to the entrance of the small hallway so the bathroom door was visible to her. Eddie’s humming floated out from underneath the crack of it. 

  Penny was Eddie’s daughter, alright, full of dramatics as her breathing remained heavy, chest rising and falling quickly with the hitches in her breath as a chunky fist gripped onto your blouse, lower lip curling out and wobbling. She didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation but that didn’t worry you. If Penny was awake when Eddie left for work in the morning, she’d start bawling. 

  The first couple of times she’d started reacting to his departure, he’d ended up full of guilt and late to work. It still wasn’t easy for him, even after you’d finally convinced him she’d have the same reaction whether he left in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Regardless of the time, she was going to be upset that she wouldn’t be able to see her daddy, probably convinced in her little baby mind that he’d abandoned her (he’d nearly quit the shop when you’d phrased it like that) but he’d always come home to her—and you—and that’s what mattered.

  You were positive she’d start yelling and shrieking when it came time for you to go back to work, too. She was just a baby, so she was being a baby.

  You carried your huffing and puffing daughter back to the living room, placing her down on the carpet in front of some toys she had been playing with earlier in the day. Maybe they’d distract her.

  Wrong.

  She sat on the carpet, chunky legs strewn out for just a few seconds before she was moving forward onto her belly and propping herself up. Then she was off, crawling as fast as she could towards the hallway while breathing heavily with exhilaration. You trailed after her, amused at how stubborn she was when she stopped directly in front of the bathroom door, propping herself up on her bottom.

  You watched Penny reach out with shaky palms, pressing them gently against the door. It looked like they were feeling around it before she began slapping them against it as hard as she could as she yelled her baby babble, no doubt demanding her daddy open the door, pick her up and love her right now.

  Giggles were muffled into your palm, as she kept up with it. 

  Eventually, maybe when she realized that wasn’t working, Penny leaned over, wiggling around until she was on her tummy and the side of her head was resting on the carpet. You realized she was trying to look under the door for him and your heart clenched, hand flying over your chest as if you could grasp the organ.

  You expected her to sit back up and go back to smacking the door but she remained there, a stubby finger absentmindedly trailing through the carpet as she stared through the thin crack, warm bathroom light and Eddie’s voice flooding out from underneath to comfort her as she waited.

  Picking her up had crossed your mind, and so did the idea of how loudly she’d probably start screaming and crying if you did. 

  The two of you didn’t have to wait for long, the shower shut off and you could hear the sounds of the shower curtain rings scraping against the rod as Eddie pulled them back. 

  Panic briefly filled your chest as you realized Eddie probably wasn’t expecting his baby to be lying on the floor directly outside of the bathroom—he’d step on her, so you called out, “Heads up, Eddie, you’ve got a visitor.”

  You didn’t hear a response, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal your husband. Water droplets slipped down his neck and chest. He had one towel—that had definitely seen better days—wrapped around his waist and another (yours) he was using to scrunch up his sopping wet curls to dry them.

  Eddie had heard you, shooting you a smirk before he addressed the baby beaming up at him, “Shower’s free if you wanna hop in, stinky.”

  Penny had no idea what he was saying, it didn’t matter anyways because he said it in the same voice he used when he gave her kisses and held her to his chest so she was reaching up for him and he finally reached down—with clean hands—grasping her sides before she was hoisted into his arms. Penny wasted no time, mouth parting wide to mouth aggressively at his face and chin while she shook her head and wiggled about.

  She was giving him kisses.

  Or trying to eat him, she had little bursts of energy where she’d do that—attack you out of nowhere while you held her causing the both of you to break out laughing.

  Eddie let her get it all out, and when she cooed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, he retaliated. Her cheeks and little neck rolls were smattered in his smacking kisses as she squealed and shrieked and wiggled but there was no escaping her daddy’s clutches now that she was finally in them. 

  When every inch of her available to him had been kissed, he turned towards you and you suddenly found yourself victim to two sets of identical crinkly brown eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled from Eddie as he padded over to where you stood, mischievous smirk making another appearance.

  “Mommy’s turn.”

#Eddie Munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #girl dad!eddie munson #pennyverse #dilf!eddie munson #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dad!Eddie Munson x mom!reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #Eddie Munson x black!reader #Eddie Munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #queenimmadolla #mechanic!eddie munson

[gutsby]

Mouthful

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller thinks he’s strong enough to quit it, but something in the way you suck him says he isn’t.

Warnings: 18+. A man with a big, bad oral fixation + lots of love for a sneaky succ. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Age gap. Blowing Joel under the table at dad’s birthday dinner.

Snippet of Hating Game

He knows better than to let a moan slip at a time like this. Not when he’s sitting at the dinner table; not when he’s surrounded by the people he knows and loves the most. Not when he’s celebrating his best friend’s 51st birthday, and certainly not when that man’s daughter is perched between his thighs, out of sight from every eye but his.

Joel lifts the tablecloth. He almost unloads on the spot.

Seeing your mouth open wide and your lips curled tight around his hot, throbbing member, Joel can’t help but ache for a split-second lapse of judgment—one where he forgets all sense of decorum and simply goes to town on that pretty little face. But, as it is, the rest of the party is totally oblivious to your absence, and he doesn’t want to draw attention to it, or him, by roughfucking your mouth.

That’ll come later.

No, now he’ll let you glide your mouth gently over his shaft, leaving trails of thick spit and hints of a shiny pink lip gloss in its wake. He’ll let you bob your head softly—self-assured in a pace you get to set—and he won’t lay a finger on your face or let a thrust of his get in the way, because this was all about you giving him the pleasure.

That doesn’t mean he can’t steal a glimpse every now and then and pin you with an expectant look when he wants something done a certain way. The room is dimly lit and everyone in it drunk; Joel will gladly take the risk.

‘You can go deeper than that, sweet pea.’

‘Nope, three-fourths ain’t enough, I need your mouth around me whole.’

‘You did wanna make daddy feel good, didn’t ya, sugar?’

He doesn’t have to speak a word of it for you to know what he means. What he needs. You loosen your jaw and stretch your lips even wider, whining just a little when the head of his cock grazes your tonsils.

“Fuck that feels nice,” Joel says aloud.

You freeze.

Then, without missing a beat, you hear him continue just as comfortably, speaking to the people around him,

“Y’all feel that breeze comin’ in?”

Sick fuck. You continue to suck him anyway.

One hand braces tight against Joel’s leg and the other flits shamelessly between your own, and you try not to moan, but the sound escapes anyway. No one hears it, but Joel feels it reverberate down his shaft, and he grips his glass of Merlot like a vice. Your dad shoots him a curious look from across the table but says nothing.

“Can’t get enough’a her, huh?” Tommy grins beside him.

“What?” Joel falters. Sets his drink aside carefully.

Down below, you drag your mouth just far enough to take his tip between your lips and suckle. Joel grunts.

“The wine,” Tommy says, still smiling, “You must love it.”

Joel lets out another strangled breath that he tries to pass off as a chuckle and nods.

“Got me on my fuckin’ knees,” he admits.

And that’s the truth. Starved for air and blinking through tears as you kneel down to blow him, it’s still you with the chokehold on Joel, and both of you know it.

Try as you might to convince yourselves otherwise, the man is enrapt. It’s just that small matter of you being his best friend’s daughter that makes Joel loath to admit it. At any rate, he has your tongue licking stripes up his cock and feels a sudden, sharp clench in his stomach.

He knows he won’t last much longer. Neither will you.

Joel can’t see it now, but you’ve practically soaked your own hand from how hard you’ve been rubbing your clit—and how turned on you are from just sucking his dick, keeping your mouth wide open for a fucking whenever he wants it. While Joel reaches for another draught of wine, you bring one hand to his balls and keep the other at your cunt, triple-tasking like the efficient little slut he needs you to be: sucking, cupping, and rubbing all at once to get the two of you off in one minute or less.

You guide him down to the furthest place in your throat, then push him even deeper. You gag, just slightly, and feel a hand reach down for your cheek. A thumb starts to rub at the tears welled up at the corners of your eyes.

‘Sweet thing hasn’t felt a man this deep before, huh? Wanna swallow some more?’

You nod that you do. Can’t actually hear him now, or see much else besides the soft tufts of hair on his belly, but you can feel a light, heady warmth seep into your brain.

You rut your hips and hope no one drops a fork nearby. Buck desperately into your hand and feel the heat start to swell to a whole new feeling, and suddenly you’re whimpering, whining on Joel’s cock from under the shade of the table and cumming all over your fingers.

Joel returns a quick smile from your father and cracks a joke about the Super Bowl. Raises his hips just the slightest bit and wipes one of your tear-soaked cheeks.

‘Almost there, hon, keep that throat open for daddy.’

All you can do is cry and try your best. Wild feelings from both the slow, deep facefuck he’s giving you and the flurry of euphoric aftershocks coursing all throughout your body make it almost impossible to bear, but you obey your sweet and strong and steady-handed Joel and sense a blossoming desire crop up for something else.

You want to taste him as he blows his load in your mouth, floods your tongue with his spend, and paints every inch of your insides with that hot, sticky stuff.

You need him whole

Your Joel.

In tune with your thoughts—or perhaps just overcome with a need to see you before he reaches his peak—Joel raises the tablecloth when Tommy isn’t looking. His gaze locks on yours and his tongue darts quick between his lips. He cocks a brow. Brushes his thumb up again.

‘Ya want this, darlin’? Want all of me?’

You give one soft, wide-eyed nod, and that’s all he needs.

No sooner do you give him the green light than his cum goes pulsing out in ropes, coating your whole throat and eventually your mouth as you hold still and take it all.

There’s so much more than you thought. So much of Joel that’s been waiting to giving your mouth a proper fucking glaze that once he’s started he just can’t stop. Above the table, your dad shoots a pointed look in his direction—‘You good, man?’—and it takes every ounce of strength in Joel’s body to grit his teeth tight and nod.

He’s filled so much of your mouth it’s spilling out now.

You try to hold steady, keep your movements extra slow. You’d heard your dad’s voice and just know there’d be a lot more on the line than Joel’s dribbling seed if either one of you fuck up now. Your breath catches in your chest, and you feel too afraid to even swallow.

“I just…came,” Joel starts, and your head almost cracks on the wood surface from how abruptly you flinch back,

“—to the realization. That you are so…fuckin’ old, man.”

Your father’s laugh is the first thing you hear, followed by Tommy, your friends, and a dozen other party guests.

The next thing you feel, to your complete and utter shock, is Joel’s cock brushing your cheek. Then your lips. Then your tongue. He slides his still-hard member through the ‘o’ your mouth has made in awe and starts to move in gentle motions back and forth, like a man all but desperate to get a feel for your wet, sodden walls.

A man who can’t risk a glimpse at you now, but wants more than anything to see the mouth he’s just filled.

Your father’s words haven’t even cooled in the air.

Joel Miller, you sneaky, freaky fuck.

As the laughter subsides and Tommy scoots back in his chair, taking leave of your table, you feel a spark ignite. Whether it’s yours or Joel’s or both your perverted minds suddenly alight and insane, you can’t be sure, but you can make out a tablecloth flipping back up above you.

Joel slips his dick out of your mouth and grins. Takes a firm hold of your face under the table so his fingers are practically coaxing your jaw to unhinge before him.

It’s the lowest, slowest, menacing sort of sound you’d ever heard from him before, but it was his all the same.

Speaking to you now, softly, “Show daddy, darlin’.”

Your Joel.

#JOEL MILLER MUNCH CLUB #i will not elaborate #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

[hangmansgbaby]

Congratulations!!! 🥳

Can I get our good man Bob Floyd and "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

~@roosters-girl

This one is so self indulgent cause I’m this way!

Blanket Stealer

Summary: Bob sleeps over for the first time and learns a valuable lesson about stealing the blankets

Prompt: "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

Pairings: Bob Floyd x reader

Word count:<300

Masterlist | 300 Cele Masterlist

He warned you before you ever laid down for the night.

“I tend to pull on the blankets in my sleep so I am apologizing in advance.”

Bob Floyd is a blanket hog and you are getting the full effect of it right now.

You lay staring at the ceiling, cold with no blankets laying over you. You glance over at your boyfriend who lays comfortably under the sheets, warm. You groan as you once again tug the blankets back over, curling your arm around the corner to keep it tight.

Its minutes later that you feel the tug of Bob pulling the blanket back.

“If you steal the blankets again, I am going to put my cold feet on you.” You say allowed, knowing he was too asleep to hear it, and sure enough Bob tugs the blanks back over to his side. “Have it your way, Bobby.”

You turn to angle your feet towards him, slipping them under the blankets and placing them flat against his calves. You start counting.

“1… 2… 3…”

“Holy shit why are they so cold?!” Bob jolts up, pushing your feet away.

“You stole the blankets, I put my cold feet on you.” You glare at him as he sits up, pushing the blankets towards you.

“I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. I did tell you.”

“You’re buying me longer blankets, Robert Floyd, or your gonna learn to sleep closer to me at night.” You state, tugging half the blankets over yourself.

“I’ll cuddle you all night if that makes you feel better.” Bob laughs softly, scooting closer to her.

“It will actually.” You say, laying on your side away from him.

Bob scoots over, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Good night, Sweet Pea.” He whispers, kissing you cheek before falling asleep next to you.

#gbaby 300 celebration #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagines #bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd imagines #robert floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #top gun fic #top gun fluff #bob top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fan fic

[stayeudaemonia]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ stay awhile — simon riley x fem! reader

warnings: not proofread, p in v, cummin’ inside :3, blowjob, brief mention of pussyeating, pretty vanilla overall !!

‧₊˚ genre: smut

. ݁₊ ⊹ simon buys you a gift n you repay him

talking to simon riley was like talking to brick wall— it’s there, but it isn’t particularly listening… or so you thought, but today when simon trudged into the living room with his heavy boots on and a small gift bag in his hand your head perked up.

“what’s that?” you asked as you scooted closer to the part of the couch closest to him. he handed you the bag and you opened it with eager hands. your heart melted when you opened the small packaging to see a delicate necklace placed carefully in the black box.

“‘s that bloody necklace you wouldn’t stop chattering about.” he mumbled, his voice gruff. though his words were harsh you knew this was his attempt at being sweet.

“would you help be put it on?” you asked sweetly as you batted your mascara covered eyelashes. he huffed as you put your hair in a makeshift ponytail. he fiddled with the tiny clasp in his thick, calloused hands until it finally linked together.

you grasped the necklace in your hand with a tiny smile on your face.

“thank you, simon.” you whispered.

he sat down on the couch with a small hum in acknowledgment.

after sitting together and talking about your days you slowly made your way off the couch and between his thighs.

“what in the world are you doin’ down there, love?” he chuckled.

“‘m repaying you.” you hummed and unbuckled his belt.

“is that right?” he laughed. “mhm.” you giggled.

you fiddled with the button on his jeans with a small pout on your glossy lips, “help?” you looked up at him with half-lidded, desperate eyes.

“yeah, yeah.” he grumbled and undid his fly, lifting his hips in the air and sliding his pants and boxers down, his cock eagerly springing out. you looked up at his length and wondered, “how is it so big?”

you gently wrapped your hands around the base as if it was made of the most valuable material in the world and looked up at him as you kitten licked the tip.

“oh god,” he muttered, his chin squished against his neck as he watched you bob your head up and down. he laced his fingers in your hair and softly guided you in the pace he needed. the small whimpers and whines you let out vibrated his cock just right, and he let out stifled groans.

“oh fuck- that’s- that’s a good- good fucking girl.” he whimpered. “just- just like that.. mhm- mhm- oh god.” he muttered.

he put your hair in a makeshift ponytail as his hips bucked softly, careful not to disrupt your rhythm.

“love i’m- ‘m gonna cum.” he said but it was too late as his load poured into your mouth.

his inky brown eyes bored into yours as he spoke, “swallow it.” he demanded, and with no hesitation you did with a cheeky smile on your face.

“look at that…” he muttered, “just fuckin’ perfect, you know that?”

a shy laugh escaped your lips as you crawled on top of him, trying to slide yourself down on his already hardened cock.

“not today, love.” he muttered and a small frown formed on your lips. “but i wanna cum.” you frowned. “‘s not what i meant. lay down.” he huffed.

you slid off his lap and laid down, your head resting on the arm rest as he situated his hips between your thighs, sliding your leggings and panties down. he looked down at you and admired the way the sun bled through the sheer curtains and onto your dazed face and leaking pussy.

“christ almighty,” he murmured, “dripping this much already?”

you pouted up at him and tried to hide your face with your hands.

“none of that.” he grumbled and tugged both of your wrists in one of his hands.

he shimmied between your legs his face right in front of your poor pussy. he licked a stripe from the weeping slit to your aching clit.

“si- you- i want it.” you hiccuped

“you want what?” he asked teasingly. “go on, use your words.”

“y-you know what i mean.” you frowned.

“‘m afraid i don’t, sweat pea.” his voice was low as he moved a few strands of hair out of your face.

“i-i want you i-in me.” you muttered.

“what part of me?” he asked, feigning sweetness, and sitting up to his full height.

“you’re-you’re dick.” you whispered, fiddling with the bottom of you sweatshirt.

“there you go,” he murmured. “i know it’s so hard to use that stupid little brain of yours” he sighed.

“but you need to be prepped, hm?” he cooed. you looked up at him with big wet eyes and sniffled.

“please?” you whispered.

“if you insist.” he chuckled and stuffed the tip of his cock into your hole. a small squeak escaped your lips as he pushed in until his hips were flush against you.

“o-oh si!” you squeaked.

he let out a soft chuckle and slid your sweater off of you, watching your tits softly bounce with every movement he made.

he pinched your clit between his thumb and his index finger and softly squeezed, a hum of amusement vibrating his throat as you dig your hips deeper into the couch before bucking them back up.

after he hit just the right spot a few too many times a squeal escaped your lips and with no warning you came along his cock, your cream dripping into the coarse blonde hair that covered his pelvis.

“christ.” he growled, reaching his arms behind your back and bringing you to his chest with a huff.

he laid down, his head resting against the armrest and yours on his chest as you lifted you hips up and down, obscene noises filling the room as you did so.

he softly chuckled as he saw your mascara smudged down your cheeks. he softly wiped at your eyes before his hands traveled down your body.

he squeezed your hips in a way you’re sure will bruise you, not that you care. after a few more lifts of your hips he spill his seed into your pussy. as you were about to lift off of him he grunted and sat you back down on top of him.

“stay awhile.”

a/n: didn’t realize it’s already been like half a month since i posted anything of substance so here u go and happy late valentine’s day !!🤍

#call of duty x reader #cod #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw3 #cod mwii #enjoy !! #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

[justabigassnerd]

Baby on Board's... Baby?

Pairing - Robert 'Bob' Floyd x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,799

Warnings - talks of being left out, pretty much just fluff

Summary - the Daggers find out Bob has a kid and short circuit at the news

A/N - it's fic time! I'm so sorry for how long it's taken for me to get a fic out, I've been going through some shit and I'm only just feeling up to writing. this may not be the best thing I've written, Bob is really fucking hard to write but I have to give a shoutout to @maverick-wingman and @horseslovers2016 for the peer pressure otherwise this fic wouldn't exist in the first place. anyways I'll stop rambling now, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Your grip on your dad’s hand tightened as he leads you towards the looming doors of the Hard Deck.

“You okay, y/n/n?” Bob asks as he stops, turning to face you and crouching down to be at your height. You remain silent, thinking about whether you wanted to tell your dad how you were feeling.

“I’m scared.” You eventually admit, looking down at your shoes as your dad’s face softens at your words.

“Oh, sweet pea, it’s okay to be scared, this is a new place with new people. We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. But Phoenix is going to be there, and everyone else is so nice I just know they’ll love you.” Bob says softly, smiling as he notices you perk up at the mention of Phoenix being there.

“Nix?” You ask, your eyes lighting up at the thought of seeing your beloved godmother.

“Yeah, Phoenix is here.” Bob says with a smile as you look to the door of the Hard Deck, eager to see your other favourite human. You hold your arms up as an indication that you want to be picked up and Bob obliges, scooping you up and sitting you on his hip.

“Remember jellybean, if you want to go home, let me know and we’ll head home.” Bob whispers reassuringly, waiting for you to nod before he pushes the door open, searching for his squadron while you eagerly search for Phoenix, using you being in your dad’s arms as a vantage point.

“Nix!” You call out when you see your godmother amongst a group and wiggle to get out of your dad’s arms so you can rush over to Phoenix.

“Hello, y/n/n. How’s my favourite princess doing?” Phoenix beams as she scoops you up effortlessly the moment you reach her, cuddling you close as you giggle, your little arms hugging her as fiercely as you can.

“You got a kid, Phoenix?” Payback questions, eyebrow raised at the sight before him, having missed you calling out to Phoenix and only saw her scooping you up and hugging you tight. At Payback’s words, the rest of the Daggers watched Phoenix carefully as Bob joined the group, unnoticed by everyone.

“I’m her godmother. She’s not mine. She’s Bob’s.” Phoenix says, and at her words, everyone is made hyper-aware of Bob’s presence nearby and Hangman chokes on his beer, coughing loudly as Coyote slaps him harshly on the back.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that Baby on Board actually has a baby?” Hangman manages to say once he’s recovered enough to speak, eye wide as he looks from you in Phoenix’s arms to Bob.

“And you kept her a secret since we met?” Fanboy pesters, shock written all over his face at the realisation of how long Bob had been keeping his daughter a secret from the squadron.

“She stayed with my parents when we were initially called back, I thought it would be a short detachment but when it became permanent, I bought a place and now this is home for us.” Bob says, crossing to Phoenix and skilfully taking you in his arms.

“Then why did you tell Phoenix but not us?” Rooster asks quietly, all of the Daggers wearing a slightly hurt expressions that they were left out of this.

“I figured you guys wouldn’t really care. You guys became your own little group and I’m usually on the sidelines, so I thought it wasn’t worth wasting my breath trying to tell you guys because you’d rather talk about training or dart tournaments. But also y/n is very shy, and you guys can get quite loud, so I wanted to take things at her pace.” Bob explains with a light shrug, a small smile crossing his face when you cuddle closer, burying your face in his neck before you look out at all the people watching you curiously. At Bob’s words the Daggers exchange sorrowful looks, feeling bad for making Bob feel like he couldn’t talk to them or be open about things if he wanted. They knew Bob was quieter than most of the Dagger Squad and he had a tendency to slip away into the background because of how rowdy and loud the group could be. They also knew he was close with Phoenix; it shouldn’t come as a surprise to them at all. Most pilots got on well with their WSOs, they needed to have a strong trust between them, and Phoenix was the first person to act welcoming towards Bob when the team became aware of his presence that first night in the Hard Deck.

“Hey, we’re really sorry man. We never meant to make you feel like you weren’t part of the group, because you are. You’re a badass and have been since the uranium mission. You got a lock on the structure which is more than I can say, we’re lucky Rooster managed to drop blind and hit the target.” Fanboy says, looking down and then glancing back up as Bob moves, handing you to Phoenix so he could cross to Fanboy.

“Don’t put yourself down Fanboy, you were picked for the mission for a reason, and you’ve been picked for more since then. You’re a great wizzo, Payback’s lucky to have you.” Bob says, patting Fanboy on the shoulder and glancing over at Payback who nods in agreement before clapping Fanboy on the back as Bob moves back to Phoenix, taking you in his arms. As Bob takes you back into his arms, the team exchange knowing nods, vowing that they’ll never let Bob feel like his thoughts and stories didn’t matter as much and that they’d include him more. As they looked back at Bob, they caught Phoenix’s eye who simply raised an eyebrow. She had stayed quiet on Bob’s request because he didn’t want to be a bother although Phoenix insisted, he’d never be a bother to her or the team. Part of her had hoped the team would notice that Bob had a tendency to disappear into the background and that they’d include him a little more but apparently, it took Bob bringing his daughter to actually get attention.

“So, how old’s baby Bob?” Payback asks, the team keeping a distance so as to not overwhelm you. You heard Payback’s question and held up three fingers while keeping yourself as buried in your dad’s embrace as possible.

“Three? Damn, kid that’s the best age to be.” Hangman says with a grin, making you look at him, offering him a small smile when you make eye contact. Intrigued by the man who had told you that being three was the best, you squirmed in your dad’s arms, requesting to be put down and when Bob obliged, you toddled over to Hangman, looking up at him curiously before holding your arms up for him to pick you up. Hangman looked over at Bob who nodded, giving him permission to scoop you up into his arms as you giggled. Hangman carefully navigated sitting you on his shoulders, holding on to your legs as you admire being high up. Hangman carefully walks over to the jukebox, taking you off his shoulders, sitting you back on his hip and pointing out which buttons you need to press to play a song, making sure it was appropriate for you to listen to. After putting the song on, Jake places you down on the floor and dances with you, twirling you effortlessly as you giggle and dance along to the music as the Daggers watch on with large smiles. When the song ends, the Daggers clap as you dart back over to your dad and are immediately scooped up into your dads’ arms. Rooster quirked an eyebrow when he noticed you turn your attention to the piano, looking at it curiously.

“Does y/n like piano?” Rooster asks, crossing to Bob who notices your stare at the piano.

“My parents have one at their house, but it mostly sits there collecting dust. It probably reminds her of her grandparents.” Bob says, bouncing you lightly on his hip. Getting an idea, Rooster crosses to the jukebox and unplugs it, eliciting a groan from every patron in the bar as Rooster sat himself at the piano, playing some light notes, his fingers dancing across the keys masterfully. Bob and the others cross to the piano, knowing where Rooster is going with his piano playing. Bob sits you on top of the piano, keeping a hand braced on your back just in case you leant back too far, and Rooster then began playing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ getting the whole bar singing in seconds. You picked up the ‘goodness gracious, great balls of fire’ lyric quickly and were soon attempting to join in whenever the bar sang that one lyric. When the song concludes, you clap as loud as your little hands will allow as the patron’s whoop and cheer. Bob picks you back up and everyone moves to sit down at tables to converse some more over some drinks and snacks. The Daggers involve Bob in their conversations and ask questions about not only him but you, arranging a day for you, your dad, and the team to go to the beach to spend some more time together, naming themselves your new cool uncles, earning a raised eyebrow from Phoenix and Bob. The moment a small yawn slipped past your lips; Bob was up on his feet instantly while keeping you in his arms.

“I should think about heading home, it’s almost y/n’s bedtime.” Bob says, addressing the Daggers who all bid him and you goodnight as Phoenix gets to her feet.

“Night night y/n/n.” Phoenix whispers, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Night night, Nix.” You mumble, clinging to your dad and burying your face in his shirt as you wave goodbye to the rest of the Daggers who give you waves of their own. Bob then exits the Hard Deck, crossing to his car and buckling you into your car seat before brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Unbeknownst to Bob, Hangman crossed to the door of the bar, leaning against the frame as he watches the car pull away. The second the car was out of his line of sight he entered the bar, eyes gleaming with joy at what he had seen as he crosses back to the Daggers who all, bar Phoenix, looked up at him with bated breath, each of them hoping they won the bet the team had quickly made. All eyes were on Hangman as he opened his mouth to speak.

“He’s got a baby on board sign in the window.”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #bob top gun #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x daughter!reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x daughter!reader #robert 'bob' floyd #robert 'bob' floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Merry Christmas, Darlin' - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: A little Christmas morning fluff for our favourite WSO 🎄 This is my first of three entries for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge to celebrate the holidays with our favourite aviators.

pairing:  Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff. pregnancy. Bob as a dad.

word count: 1.5k

“Mommy! Daddy!” 

The sound of little voices filled the bedroom as your twin daughters, Lucy and Clara jumped onto the bed. You grumbled as your eyelashes fluttered open, a loud grunt coming from your husband as one of the girls inevitably dive bombed on top of his body.  You rolled over in bed, turning to face your husband, who was lifting up Clara and pulling her into bed with you, him and Lucy. Bob blindly stuck his arm out to the right, feeling around on the nightstand for his glasses. He put them on and blinked a couple of times to allow his eyes to adjust before laughing softly and kissing both Lucy and Clara on the forehead, playing softly with their hair as he held his girls close.

“Daddy, guess what!” The girls voices rang out in unison as they spoke excitedly. Lucy’s blonde curls bounced around her little face as she jumped up and down on the bed between you and Bob, her cherubic cheeks rosy and pink as she beamed at him.

“What is it, my little sweet peas?” Bob chuckled as he smiled at them both, leaning in to listen intently to what they had to say.

“Santa came to visit!” Clara exclaimed as Lucy squealed in delight.

Both girls nodded their heads quickly, giggling in perfect harmony with each other as they bounced on the bed, trying to wake you and Bob from your half-asleep states, enticing you to come downstairs and see what Santa had brought for them. Bob shook his head as he feigned surprise for the girls, his mouth agape in mock disbelief.

“No way, Santa came here?! You mean, the cookies we baked are all gone?”

The girls nodded and giggled again, before Lucy piped up and pointed towards the hallway.

“He left presents too! Our stockings are full. He left stuff for me and Clara and Mommy and you too, Daddy!”

“Mommy and me too?” Bob shook his head as he beamed at the girls, “Tell you two what, if you guys go head downstairs and give Mommy and I five minutes to get up and brush our teeth, we’ll come right downstairs and open those presents, sound good?”

The twins nodded in unison before scrambling off the bed. They hurried out of the room, the sound of little feet hammering down the wooden flooring in the hallway before padding down the carpeted stairs to the living room. Bob shook his head, laughing before turning to you and smiling, his deep blue eyes meeting yours as he placed his hand lovingly on your cheek. 

“Well, I bought us five minutes. Give or take, neither of the girls can tell time yet, thankfully.”

“What exactly are you planning on doing in those five minutes, Lieutenant Floyd?” You smirked as you turned on your side, leaning your head into your palm as you looked at him, his hand stroking your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well…” Bob playfully taps his chin as he thinks and laughs softly, “I’m sure I could give you an early Christmas gift in five minutes, but I’m not sure how enjoyable it’d be for you. I’d certainly enjoy it though, m’am” 

A wide smirk forms on Bob’s lips, grinning at you as he leaned in, pressing his soft lips against yours. His nose brushed against yours as your tongues tangled together. A low grunt escaped from Bob’s mouth, falling against your lips with a vibration, his hand dragging down your side, snaking its way up the side of your pajama shirt, stroking your soft skin. He placed his hand on your back, pulling your body in as close to his as possible, his lips trailing slowly from your mouth to your jaw, before making their way down your neck. You drew in a sharp breath as his lips found your exposed collarbone. Your eyes darted over to the alarm clock on the nightstand before landing back on Bob, whose lips were now sucking and nibbling at your skin.

“Bobby, you have two minutes left, and we still have to actually leave the bed,” you laughed and shook your head slightly, almost regretting that Bob didn’t tell the kids to go back to sleep for another hour.

“Mhmm, I can’t help it, you’re irresistible, darlin’,” He smirked as he ran his finger along your jawline, tilting your head up before pressing his lips to yours again. 

“Robert Floyd, you promised two four year old girls that we’d be downstairs in five minutes and all we were doing was getting up and brushing our teeth. We’ve done neither of those things in the last,” you frowned as you looked at the alarm clock again, “six minutes. You’re now late.”

“Alright, alright, I’m getting up,” He laughed softly, shaking his head as he threw the covers off of his long, lean body before swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. He looked to you and watched as you got yourself up, his lips curling up into another cheeky smirk as he took in your figure. 

“God, you’re incredible. I hope my Christmas present is you later tonight,” He grinned before strolling towards the ensuite bathroom. You chucked a pillow his way as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Behave yourself, Lieutenant. We have all of Christmas Day to get through first.” 

Bob shrugged his shoulders as he stood in the doorway to face you, brushing his teeth. He leaned over to spit in the sink before rinsing it down and wiping his mouth with his facecloth from the side of the sink. 

“Well, guess I better get downstairs and tame those two before they start unwrapping their presents without us,”

Bob’s hand found its way to your behind as you switched places with him in the bathroom, his deep blue eyes flashing a mischievous grin to you as he whispered in your ear. 

“You know, darlin’, I wouldn’t mind if we had another one. I mean, I love our girls, but think of how cute they’d be with a little brother or sister.”

You rolled your eyes as you put the toothpaste on your toothbrush before turning towards your husband with a grin. 

“You know, it’s funny you say that,” You began, before being interrupted by the sound of two little voices ringing out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Mommy, Daddy, hurry up!” The girls whined, their voices growing impatient as they waited for you and Bob to get moving.

Bob sighed and shook his head before kissing your cheek gently, He headed off downstairs while you finished brushing your teeth. You stepped into your slippers and pulled on one of Bob’s old sweatshirts before heading downstairs to join your family, where Bob was waiting with a cup of coffee for you, your daughters happily eating some cereal at the table, their blue eyes gazing longingly at the presents under the tree. You took the mug from your husband, a smile on your lips as you sipped the warm liquid carefully. As the girls finished eating, Bob cleared their dishes away before returning to his spot in the comfortable lazy boy chair in the living room. He watched as the girls began tearing open their stockings, shaking his head as he smiled to himself.

“Hey, don’t forget Santa left you a stocking too, Bobby,” you nodded, passing him the fabric stocking. You watched as Bob started opening it, the usual gifts you’d get for his stocking every year being stacked neatly on the table as he went through everything you’d gotten him. He stopped as he pulled out the last item, his blonde eyebrows arching slightly as he looked at it, turning it over in his hands. His eyes looked at you curiously, and his voice was reduced to a soft whisper as his cheeks flushed a soft pink hue.

“Darlin’...are you?” His sapphire blue eyes were full of hope and excitement as he looked at you, as if he was praying his guess about the little plastic stick in his stocking was right.

“I am,” you nod your head in confirmation as Bob gets up and wraps his arms around you tightly, his lips pressing to your forehead gently. 

“You’re serious? We’re having another baby?” he whispered, unsure if he should say it too loudly, in case the twins got their hopes up about a new sibling.

“We sure are, darlin’”, you smirked, imitating Bob’s signature pet name for you. 

Bob pulled you in tightly for a hug, his lips pressed to your cheek in a gentle, loving kiss. He whispered softly into your ear, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand on end as he spoke. 

"Honey, you've made this the best Christmas morning I could have ever dreamed of."

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fic #bob top gun fic #bob floyd fluff #fluff #robert bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you

[jungle-angel]

The King and His Queen (Admiral!Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob are excited as ever to know that your family will keep growing, but some days, you just need a little rest

Bob entered the house in the Admiral's Village, fresh from a long day at the base and ready to relax with you. All day long he had thought about what he was going to do the minute he got home, the deeply intimate moments he had craved day after day with you and the kids and especially the new baby that would soon be entering the family.

"Sweetheart?" he called as one of the dogs approached him. "(Y/n) are you down here?"

Bob wandered into the living room to find you sitting in the old wingback chair that had belonged to his great-grandmother, your head in your hands and sniffing away the freshly fallen tears that marked your face.

"Sweetheart?" Bob asked, gently stooping to his knees. "(Y/n) talk to me, what's going on?"

You pulled your hands away and wiped away a few tears as Bob tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "I'm so sorry Bob," you croaked. "It's just been a really overwhelming day."

Bob's face fell a little before he drew you in for a kiss. "Baby what happened?" he asked. "You can tell me."

"I tried really hard, I really did," you explained. "Getting the kids on and off the bus from school was hell, two of my fifth graders ended up puking in the hallway and I ended up dropping a plate in the kitchen."

Bob chuckled a little before kissing you again. "My sweet pea," he said. "Believe me that's not the worst thing that's happened around here."

"Oh Bob," you croaked again.

"Ah-ah, before you say anything my sweet," Bob gently warned you. "Do you remember years ago when we first started dating and you made me dinner?"

"A little."

"And you burned it to the point where the whole apartment filled up with smoke?"

You laughed a little upon suddenly remembering. "And that's exactly why I'm afraid to make any kind of Italian food ever again."

Bob laughed with you, drawing you in for another kiss that drew a little moan out of you and made the baby in your belly kick like crazy.

"I love you Mrs. Floyd," he whispered. "No matter what."

You leaned into his deep hug, grateful for his warmth and the softness that came from years of pure love and devotion. "How's the baby?" he asked.

"He's finally settling down," you told him. "I think everything else is bruised from all the kicking."

Bob smiled and laughed a little. "Then what do you say we settle in and see if he calms down?"

You couldn't argue with that. You made your way upstairs with Bob, your older children finally having settled into bed and deeply asleep, unaware that their father was home. Bob snuck into their pitch dark rooms and kissed each of them on their little heads, tucking them into bed a little more before coming in to your shared bedroom to settle down.

"You get some sleep Mrs. Floyd," he told you, pulling the covers over the both of you. "You're gonna need it in the next few weeks."

You hummed happily as he snuggled in beside you, his hand curling around your waist and rubbing gentle circles all over your bump. Your little one had begun to settle down just a little as well, eager as ever to enter the world and fully become a part of yours and Bob's lives.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #admiral!bob #admiral!bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

[bloodwrittenballad]

Bobby’s Got It Goin’ On | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Jake takes it too far, you step in

Warnings: Smut, oral (reader receiving, bc in my mind, bob is a pussy eating king!) fingering, consensual groping, blowjob in a car (0/10, do not recommend doing this) protected sex because!!! it’s a must!!! swearing, lil tad bit of angst, sexism? Hangman being, well, himself. Also, I suck at titles and summaries 🙃 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. And please, let me know what you thought! Reblogs and comments are so very appreciated and help us fic writers <3 Xoxo, Parker

If there was one thing you knew for certain about Jake Seresin, it was that he had a loud fuckin mouth. And quite the talent at opening it at the wrong fuckin times. Like now, for instance. You and the crew were all at The Hard Deck, hanging out and celebrating getting through another long work week. Things were going well, you found yourself perched next to Bob, as the two of you made easy conversation.

You liked Bob, a lot. How could you not? He was sweet, smart, handsome as ever loving hell… Only issue, was he probably didn’t feel even the slightest bit same for you. That was okay though! Because in the end, you’d rather have a friendship with him than ruin it by telling him how you felt only to be rejected.

It was better this way, regardless of how bad it hurt or how much pestering you’d get from the other squadron members to just confess you feelings.

Pushing back the slightly depressing thoughts, you continued your focus on Bob, who was getting rather animated as he told you a stories from his childhood and teen years. Head thrown back in laughter, you couldn’t help but to gently slap his arm, a habit you had developed over the years and could never quite shake. Most people would have found it annoying, but not Bob. Never him. He found it endearing, plus… he couldn’t deny that the skin to skin contact was nice. You were so soft and warm, so, so… perfect.

Bob continued to blush while you giggled, “wow, Bobby, I never would’ve taken you for such a bad boy!” If his cheeks weren’t already as red as a stop sign, they certainly were now. “I wasn’t! Really! Just a… ya know, had a bit of teen angst, I guess.” Bob muttered, not being able to handle how goddamn beautiful that smile of yours was. “Well, teen angst aside, I think some trouble looks good on you. Kinda rouged. Chicks dig that, ya know.” You spoke with a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you thought of him with any other woman than you.

Bob wore his usual lopsided smile as you said that, his skin feeling even warmer now. Jesus, you were so perfect. This moment was so perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Hangman, being the ever present thorn in your side, just had to go and ruin it. “Y’all wanna know what else chicks dig?” He spoke with a shit-eating grin as he plopped down beside you, making himself more than comfortable but not at all welcome. “Not really,” you huffed out through gritted teeth. A devilish smirk blossomed even wider on the blonds face, “chicks dig a man who’s tough and confident, unafraid to take charge and get shit done. Like me, sweet pea.” Jake ended with a wink, something that shouldn’t have pissed you off so much. But it did. He always managed to get under your skin in a way no one else could. He just had that effect on people. Obnoxious.

“Well, maybe some women aren’t into that,” you shot back. “Maybe some of us like a quiet, down to earth, gentleman who doesn’t boast about how supposedly great he is.” Jake barked out a laugh, his eyebrows shooting high up and almost into his hairline. “Damn, girl.” Jake whistled, “ya got fire in you, f’sure. Gotta find the right to manage that. Some prissy, sissy of a man ain’t gonna be able to tame it. Like Bob!” Said person looked up at you sheepishly for the first time since Hangman had crashed your little party. “Bobby here wouldn’t know what t’do with all that you got goin’ on, he uh, he just ain’t built for it.” Okay, so now you weren’t just pissed. You were fucking livid.

“And what the fuck do you know about anything, Bagman? Huh? What’re your qualifications to be making such claims? In fact, when’s the last time any of this macho bullshit actually worked on a woman? Cause ya wanna know what I think? I think you’re just an insecure little boy who acts like he’s gods fuckin’ gift to this world, like he’s got it all goin’ on for him. But you don’t! You can sure as hell act like it, but we all know you don’t. You wanna know who does, though? Bob. Yeah, that’s right. Bobby’s got it goin’ on!” By this point, you had stood up from your seated position so you could feel like you had a bit more of an upper ground, as you glared down at Jake.

Bob, who still hadn’t uttered a peep since Hangman’s interruption, saw how close you were to hitting the man and gently decided it was time to divert from the situation and led you outside. His hand, strong but gentle on the small of your back, guided you throughout The Hard Deck until you both found yourselves under the pale moonlight. “God!” you groaned angrily. “I mean, who the hell does he think he is? Such a prick! Like, I get it, you haven’t been laid in a while but fuck don’t take it out on people who don’t deserve it! It’s just so, so, so fucking frustrating. Aren’t you frustrated? I’m frustrated! No, I’m pissed! Oooh, I’m so pissed. I could go in there right now and punch him right in his stupid f-,” You stopped short in your rant, the pacing you started somewhere along the line coming to a halt.

Bob was just standing there, head bowed, not saying a word. “Bobby?” You whispered gently, mentally cursing yourself for your tangent now when you should’ve been making sure he was okay. Opening your mouth to speak again, Bob cut you off. “Did… did you meant it? W-what you said. I-in there? Or was that just to get Hangman off my back?” The shake in his voice made your heart crack in two, but what truly broke it was the look on his face. So unsure, so pained, so scared that it was all just a big fat lie.

“Bobby, I-” you started, but was once again cut off. “It’s fine, I-I uh, I get it. I do. No hard feelings. But, um, thanks for taking care of Hangman.” Bob went to pass out, presumably to his car so he could get the hell out of there and save himself any further embarrassment for tonight. Before he could make it far, you grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards you and pushing your lips to his. Bob left out a soft whine, immediately melting into the feeling of you.

The kiss was soft, warm, delicate and messy all at once. It was everything you ever dreamed of, it just sucked that the events of tonight were what led up to it. Pulling away, your hands went up to cup his face, locking eyes with his in the compassionate embrace. “I meant every single word, Robby. All that, and so much more.” Bob broke out in a smile, with you following not far behind, before he surged forward and connected your lips once more. This time in a much more needy and demanding kiss, with his and your hands roaming each others bodies.

A soft moan left your lips in a tiny squeak, Bob pulling away with a satisfied grin. “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private? Don’t really feel like sharing those noises with anyone else.” You gasped and gently hit his arm, like how you had earlier. “Bobby! You dirty dog! I cant believe you… but yes. Yes. Let’s go, now. Please.” Bob couldn’t help to laugh at the display of utter desperation from you, as he led you to his car. The second you were inside, a full makeout session ensued. You ended up on his lap, albeit with some struggle because his car was tiny, but you made do. Grinding on his growing bulge, you moaned widely, his tongue darting into your mouth. “Fuck, Bobby, take me home. Want you to take me home and fuck me so bad. Will you, please?” You whined and begged, and what kind of man would he be to leave you so needy like this.

After you were safe and secure in the passenger seat, Bob wasted no time on stepping on the gas as he made his way back to his rental. After the mission, many, if not most, of the original crew got a transfer. Yourself included, though unlike Bob, you’re place wasn’t as nice. That didn’t matter though, it was all small details in the end. Because now you not only had the best of friends, but you finally got the guy. And said guy was taking you home to fuck you.

The drive wasn’t long, but damn, did it make you needier. You weren’t sly in the slightest, as you snuck your hand slowly up Bobs thigh, climbing higher and higher, stopping just below where you so desperately wanted to touch. Bob gave you a look, eyebrow quirked, lips in a smirk. “This okay?” you whispered, just to be sure. “More than okay, darling.” He confirmed, and that was more than enough for you to launch your attack. Unbuttoning his pants, you make quick work of pushing down his boxers as far as they would go before his hard and ready cock popped out. Your mouth went agap at the sight, suddenly feeling drool looking at the edges of you lips as you took in the length and size of him. He was huge! “Holy shit, Bobby, you really do got it goin’ on.” And with that, you took him into your mouth.

He couldn’t reach all the way in, so you made due by streaking the rest of him. Occasionally groping his balls, which earned the heavenly sound of his moans. You continued bobbing your head up and down, savoring the taste of him and the way he swore. “F-fuck! Yeah, yeah, just like that. Taking it so well, j-just like a good girl.” You moaned at the praise, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. Then, before you knew it, the car came to an abrupt stop and so did the blowjob, as Bob gently grabbed your cheeks and lifted your head. “As much as I’d love to come in your throat, sweet thing, I’d much rather continue this inside. Where I can really treat you good,” he said with a wink. Oh, god, he was so fucking hot.

The two of you managed to stumble inside, hands never leaving each others bodies as you nipped and sucked at any possible exposed skin, groping and grinding and messy as he led you to his bed and practically tossed you on to it. By the time you made it to his bedroom, both of you were almost fully nude, aside from the underwear you wore. Which were fully soaked now, by the way. And damn, did Bob enjoy the sit. Sinking down to his knees on the floor, Bob grabbed your legs and scooted you forward so your ass hung over the bed almost completely. “Fuck, s’wet f’me,” he mumbled against the skin of your thighs, your ankles now hanging over his shoulders.

He worked his way up, pressing kisses to the soft skin, loving the way you moaned and begged for me. “You want my mouth or my fingers, darling?” He asked, and the smirk he wore when you screamed, “both!” only widened. “If it’s both you want, baby, then it’s both you’ll get.” And with that, your panties were gone in a flash as he tore them off and dove right in. “FUCK!” you moaned loudly, your hands frantically clutching the bedsheets. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, right there! Fuck yes!” He’d barely begun, still only using his tongue, as he lapped at you like a man starved. It was heavenly, the warmth of his tongue and the speed at which it tortured you with bliss.

Minutes, maybe even hours, fuck who knows how long went by with him in between your thighs, just licking and sucking and slurping at what you had to offer before he asked if you wanted his fingers yet. Of course you had screamed yes again, but it was all garbled and mumbled from the pleasure you felt. Bob chucked between you, the vibration a heavenly feeling on your clit. The added sensation of not just one, but two fingers prodding at your sensitive hole had your mind swimming in pure ecstasy. You knew you were close, and his fingers speeding in and out of you mixed with his tongue on your clit only brought on that freeing feeling. Bob must’ve felt the way you clenched around him, the way your thighs shook, and masterfully continued his work. Drilling his fingers inside of you and bringing your clit to rest in between his puckered lips had you exploding into a dazzling glow of orgasm you’ve never felt before.

Bob stayed between your thighs, fingers slowing down as he coaxed you through your orgasm. Once he knew you were good, he gently pulled his fingers out and tapped your thigh in a way of telling you “good job”. Climbing back onto the bed, he smiled down at your fucked out figure. The way your eyes were glazed over, your naked chest rising and falling. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and he was so lucky he got to be the one to do it. You smiled back at him, before slowly getting up so you sat on your knees with him on the bed, hands stroking up and down his arms. “As good as that was, and trust me, it was really good, I want you to fuck me for real now.”

Bob didn’t need to be told again, he bolted towards his bedside table, almost ripping the drawer out as he searched inside the messy compartment. “Aha!” He said victoriously, holding up a condom. You smiled softly at the man, who despite being a literal sex god a minute ago, still had the capability to be the goofy dork you’ve had feelings for forever now.

“You ready?” he asked earnestly once he got the condom on, you’ve never been more ready for anything in your life. “Just hurry up and fuck me, Floyd.” you said breathlessly, and that was more than enough for him to pounce on you like his life depended on it. His lips met yours in a flurry once more that night, the taste of you not gone from his mouth as he all but attacked yours. The tip of his cock met your folds in a blissful roll of his hips, making you gasp. Needing him inside you desperately, you grabbed his cock gently and helped him slowly guide it inside you, breathing out a sigh of relief once he filled you to the fullest. On your back, you laid there, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling of him. Bob, ever the patient man, didn’t move an inch until you gave him the go ahead.

Once the coast was clear, he was like a beast, snapping his hips at an unstoppable force. It felt so good, like all your nerves were set ablaze in the best way. Your ankles wrapped around his waist, your hands scratching up and down his back. The way he was bent over you gave him perfect access to your tits, to which he took full advantage and brought one of your nipples to his mouth. The feeling had you clenching around him like a viper, his hot tongue dancing around the sensitive skin of your breast brought you close to the edge again. His thrusts were hard and wild, but calculated, hitting the perfect spot every single time. You were both moaning like animals, swears and praises and the scent of sex filling the air as you fucked each other into the night. “Fuck, Bobby, m’so close. Wanna come with you, wanna come with you so bad.” you whined out, and Bob can’t think of a time in his life where he’s heard or experienced anything sexier.

“I’m almost there, my girl, fuck, so close. Just hold on f’me like a good girl, can ya do that? Can you wait like the good girl I know you are?” His voice was so gruff, deep and full of ecstasy. “Yeah,” you managed out in a high pitched whimper, something that made Bob’s cock twitch from inside of you. With a few more deep strokes inside you, he was ready, and he knew you were too. “Let go, baby. Come with me, fuck! You better come with me, baby, know you can.”

And so you did. And it was glorious. Earth shattering, mind blowing, you name it. Your skin was hot and sweaty, and you shook like a goddamn earthquake as you came, Bob not far behind as he experienced his own orgasm. Moaning wildly, he collapsed beside you the second he pulled out. The two of you lay there, breathing heavily, minds reeling from the most amazing and intense and powerful sex both of you have ever had in your entire lives. Once the two of you caught your breaths and energy enough to move, Bob cleaned the two of you up before pulling you into his arms. You laid there, head on his chest, looking up at him in pure fascination and wonder.

Yeah, Bobby’s definitely got it goin’ on for sure.

And Hangman can fuckin’ suck it!

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd #top gun smut #top gun x reader #top gun fanfic #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd smut #banner by cafekitsune

[mrs-murder-daddy]

A/N: It's finally here, and it's only part one! I'm so sorry everyone but I've been fucking miserable for the last few months. But I'm here, I promise!

Requests are also open for BoB and MotA!

The Heart of the Ocean (Part One)

Gale "Buck" Cleven x Reader

The stateroom is much smaller than you anticipated, though perhaps your expectations were too high. After all, this is just a boat with a lot of people on it.

It feels suffocating, though perhaps that’s a consequence of your circumstances more than your room. 

You stare at yourself in the vanity’s mirror. You look tired, but maybe you should cut yourself some slack. You’re getting married in a few weeks. Every bride looks this sallow before their wedding day.

There’s a knock on the door, gentle and polite. You haven’t even responded when it opens. Caledon Hockley, your fiance, walks in. If you had never spoken to the man, you’d say that smile on his face is genuine.

He brandishes a velvet jewellery box and presents it to you with all the showmanship of a salesman. You’re not sure why. You’re marrying the bastard, not buying a house from him.

Cal crowds up behind you, opening the box, expecting you to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over it. He gives you some long speech about how the diamond used to belong to some long dead king. All you can do is stare. It’s so… big. It’s gaudy and awful. At least it matches your engagement ring.

He clasps the necklace, the chain feeling rather literal. He kisses your temple and grins at his most prized possession. You paste on a smile and thank him for his kindness. As he leaves, reminding you of the lunch you were already supposed to be at, you wrap a hand around the massive blue diamond. It’ll at least weigh me down, you joke.

Despite your mother’s hatred of her, Mrs Margaret “my-friends-call-me-Molly” Brown is the only person you can talk to that actually listens. You walk into the dining room for lunch, hands gently wrapped around one of Cal’s arms and the first thing you hear is, “that necklace is gorgeous darling!”

Your mother fawns over it and you almost tell her to just take it if she wants it so bad. 

Molly says, “Not as beautiful as the woman wearing it.”

Her beaming smile is not enough to distract you from your mother’s eye roll, but it is enough for you to respond with a genuine thanks. You can’t remember the last time you got a compliment.

Stuck at a table between a rock (Cal) and a hard place (your mother), you wait anxiously to eat. You would listen to the conversations around you, but it’s mostly your mother bragging about the family you’re marrying into, and the men discussing which type of cigar they’ll smoke next or other trivial nonsense.

When the waiter approaches, you perk up. but Cal takes over. “We'll both have the lamb, medium-rare with very little mint sauce.” He turns to you and pats your hand, “You like lamb, don't you sweet-pea?”

You stare at him silently, god his face was just so punchable. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that there’s an audience. “Of course, darling.”

Molly jumps in, noticing the distinct pinch of your mouth. “You gonna cut her meat for her, too, Cal?” The table bursts into laughter and even your fiance forces a tight smile.

The food is not quite to your taste, the bitterness of Cal’s mistreatment tainting your meal. But the conversation takes a turn for the better.

Molly posits, “So, how do ya reckon they got to the name Titanic?”

An older fellow married to a woman 3 years your junior speaks up, “Well the name obviously conveys size, thus it also conveys strength.”

You jump in, “Perhaps Dr Freud’s ideas about the male preoccupation with size will interest you, Mr Higginbotham.”

Your mother pinches your thigh again and you jolt. The conversation changes once more and even Molly’s boisterous laughter can’t calm your temper. You excuse yourself and race outside for some fresh air.

The ocean breeze cools you down somewhat. You bask in the sun’s rays, gripping the rail in front of you and leaning back just a little.

Your reverie is interrupted by a loud shout of “Miss!”

You look down to see two brunets wrestling playfully. Their blonde friend shakes his head before looking up at you. Your knees turn to butter. He’s quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

The two of you stare at each other for so long, his friends have stopped wrestling, instead looking between you two like a tennis match. The Greek statue below only stops the staring contest when a frown takes over.

Your own face falls when you realise why: Cal. Your fiance grips your arm and begins to berate you quietly while dragging you back inside.

But the beautiful blonde man is all you see. His smile as his friends begin to tease is enough to feed you for a lifetime.

Dinner is much the same, only your noose feels tighter than before. Your newfound wealth is still the only topic of conversation your mother cares about and your fiance is content to make every little decision for you.

Of all your companions, at least Molly Brown tries to reach out with some gentle questions about the wedding. Cal fields all of them, he and your mother having planned everything to the very flowers of your bouquet.

Your ears begin to ring. Your mother over one shoulder, your fiance over the other. A hand touches yours lightly. It’s gloved but still warm. Molly’s Southern accent cuts through the rest of the conversation.

“You okay darling?”

You nod and beam brightly. “Of course, just excited for the wedding.”

It’s clearly not enough for her. Then an icy glare from the people either side of you reminds her of your precarious position.

“Well who wouldn’t be? It all sounds so beautiful!”

You power through dinner, Cal ordered the beef for you both, though you would rather have eaten dirt.

He kisses your gloved hand as the men retire to the smoking room. Molly rubs your shoulder gently as she bids you goodbye. 

Your mother hisses at you for acting up. You simply smile apologetically and ask to get some fresh air. She waves you off with an angry “I’ll see you later.”

Thankfully, no one else is on deck as you sprint across the wood. Your chest is heaving with panicked breaths and barely concealed sobs. The theatrics catch the attention of a man laying on a bench staring up at the stars.

You crash into the rail at the stern of the ship and hastily climb over. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as the wind brushes past your face, cooling the tears on your cheeks.

The skin over your knuckles stretches as you cling to the only tether you have left. The water looks cold but so inviting.

Then a voice. It’s quiet and gentle, but it nearly startles you into letting go. 

“Easy, easy, didn’t mean to scare you.” He approaches, palms up in surrender.

“Go away.” You’re beyond embarrassed to have someone witness your breakdown. Your consideration of the unthinkable.

“Well that I’m not gonna do.” He creeps closer like you’re a wounded animal. It’s perhaps a cliche, but you imagine that’s what you are. Hunted for your beauty and trapped in the snare of a loveless marriage.

“You should leave. If you know what’s good for you.” You wish your voice sounds stronger. The creaking of your throat doesn’t make you sound very intimidating.

He just sighs and sits down on the deck. He begins to… remove his shoes? You frown and look over your shoulder as much as you can.

“What are you doing?”

“If you’re going down there,” he nods to the water below you, “I’m coming after you. And these are a new pair. Can’t get ‘em all soggy.”

You begin to laugh, a little hysterically. “That water’s freezing. There’s no way you’ll jump after me.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.” He stands up and begins to remove his jacket. Your face grows serious once more. His shoulders are broad, he must be a steel worker or something. But his face is too pretty for that kind of work. “You know a fall from this height into water, it’s like hitting pavement. Then you add the freezing water and-“ he hissed through his teeth.

You take another look, it is a very long way down. How did you not notice that before? A few moments of contemplative silence pass and the broad shouldered man moves closer.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You ever feel alone? Like truly alone in the world.”

He frowns sympathetically, “Can’t say I have, ma’am.”

You smile sadly. “That’s good.” Your hands begin to loosen their grip. 

His voice now sounds like it’s right next to you, but you can’t bring yourself to look. “Maybe you should come back over this rail and tell me all about it. Maybe I can help you.”

A sad little smile appears on your face. “I wish you could.” 

Then warmth wraps around your wrist. The man’s hands are calloused but much softer than you expected. 

“You never know if you don’t try.” He’s practically begging, anxiously waiting for your response.

You turn your head to look at him, tears threatening to choke you. You realise just who this man is. “Okay.”

He wraps a gentle but firm arm around your waist and helps you pull yourself back over the rail. When you finally set your heeled feet on the deck, your body feels like it’s going to collapse. The man leads you to a bench and wraps his jacket tight around you.

“I’m Gale by the way, Gale Cleven.”

You introduce yourself, still feeling rather defeated.

“Now tell me about what happened just now.” The words imply an interrogation, but looking into those baby blues you see… concern. What is with the people on this boat?

You’ll know them for only about a week and yet they’re the only ones in your life who seem to actually care for you.

“I know what you must be thinking.” You sigh, “Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?”

Gale leans his head forward to make eye contact, “Not at all. What I’m thinking is what could have happened to this girl to make her think she has no way out?”

You flash the giant ring on your finger, “I’m getting married next month.”

He jokes, “Wow! You would have gone straight to the bottom.” 

But you can’t laugh, you just stare at it. “All of Boston society will be there. 500 invitations.”

You finally look at his face, counting his freckles subconsciously, “Sometimes I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.”

He frowns and you’re hit with a sudden wave of shame. “Thank you for your help, Gale.” You take his jacket off hastily and drop it in his lap.

“Wait-” He tries to process the abrupt end to your conversation but you’re already halfway down the deck, surreptitiously wiping away tears.

The next morning, you beg your mother to let you have some space and fresh air. Really, you want to find the handsome blond from the night before. To apologise and to assure him that you will be just fine.

It’s not difficult to spot his incredibly handsome profile. He’s hunched over a sketchbook, head bobbing as he looks to his reference then back down. Trying to follow his eyeline, you see a sweet looking older man dancing with his little daughter. She stands on his feet as they sway to nothing in particular.

You approach carefully, worried you’d break the warm quiet, or disturb the family’s moment. You decide to just sit next to Gale. He tilts his head in acknowledgment but continues his work.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night,” you begin, “it was inappropriate for a woman of my station.”

He gives a little half-smile and looks up at you. His stare is like looking into the sun. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel. And I felt honoured you trusted me enough to share your pain.”

Your face warms, you’re not sure if it’s shame or those baby blues trained on yours. The girl and her dad are still dancing, but he’s picked her up. Her curls swish around as he twirls them and her giggles almost bring a tear to your eye. You can’t remember the last time your parents showed you any affection, let alone danced with you just to make you laugh. 

Gale clears his throat and holds his sketchbook out. His work is incredible. Not only is his technical work beautiful but he’s captured the loving glint in the father’s eyes and the little girl’s missing tooth. You can’t help your beaming smile.

“This is incredible work! You should be proud. Is this what you plan to do back in the States?” You brush a gentle finger over the drawing’s finer details.

He blushes and shakes his head, “I’m going back to my tiny hometown to see my family. Where I go from there, I don’t know.”

“You have a real talent here, Gale! You should explore this.” You hand the drawing back to him.

His plush lips part like he wants to respond, but you’re interrupted. The sweet little girl taps your shoulder, her tiny hand covered in freckles. She introduces herself as Niamh, and asks if you’re some kind of fairy. You frown, confused, but hear Gale chuckle behind you.

“She absolutely is, Miss Niamh.” When you turn your head to look at him, he winks. You look back at Niamh and smile.

“He’s right, I am a fairy! And I have a gift for you, little one.” You pull out one of the many pins in your hair, a bejewelled butterfly on the end. You hold it out to her; she seems hesitant to take it.

Niamh looks back at her dad who nods in her direction. She takes the pin and gives it a little kiss, “I promise, I’ll take care of it.” She runs back to her dad, giggling.

“I gotta go soon,” Gale’s voice draws you back to your previous conversation. “It’s almost lunchtime, but I wanted to ask.” He closes his sketchbook and faces you head on. “You ever been to a party?”

You had assumed when Gale asked you about a party there would be drinking and music, but nothing to this level.

The small parlour is packed to the brim with warm bodies and free-flowing drinks. Gale is up on a makeshift stage dancing with a cat in one arm and Niamh on the other. You remember his two brunet friends from yesterday and search for their faces, hopefully one of them will remember you.

One is preparing to arm wrestle a big bald man while the other claps him on the shoulder for support. A pregnant woman stands behind them, arms folded and a big grin on her face. You make your way through everyone, feeling very overdressed. By the time you reach them, the arm wrestling match is done and everyone cheers for “Curt”. By the big smile on his face, you assume Curt is one of Gale’s friends.

You can’t quite find a way to interject yourself into the celebrations so you find yourself leaning against the wall awkwardly. Gale finally notices you and tries to wave, only he has no hands free. So he quickly gestures to his friends.

“Hey!” The taller brunet shouts, holding his arms out for a hug. You shake your head, not quite there in your acquaintanceship with him. Instead the pregnant woman wraps her arms around him instead. “You’re the dame who Buck can’t stop talking about.”

“Buck?” You look over his shoulder at Gale whose attention is divided between you and Niamh. “Oh Gale!” Your face heats up, “I hope he’s been kind.”

Curt butts in, “Darling you’ve got nothing to worry about, the man is already picking out a ring for ya.”

The tall brunet holds his hand out to shake yours, introducing himself as John, “But my friends call me Bucky.” He also introduces the woman under his arm as Angel. She gives you her real name but says she prefers the nickname.

Curt gives you an official introduction, and Gale peels himself away from Niamh and the cat long enough to come join you all.

“I’m glad to see you here, sweetheart.” Gale smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulder. You lose yourself in his eyes again.

“Glad to be here.” Your voice is breathy, but for once you’re saying what you truly mean.

The night is long and restless, you drink and you dance and you laugh and you dream. This is the life you’d sorely missed, friends, fun, and blossoming love.

The night winds down, Curt has passed out on a bench near the makeshift stage. There’s only one fiddle player left, the rest of his musician family gone to bed. Niamh is asleep in her dad’s arms while her mother dances around them.

Bucky and Angel dance together, looking more in love than anyone you’ve ever seen. He whispers sweet nothings in a low tone just to see her blush. Gale clears his throat next to you and you snap your eyes towards him. He holds his large hand out, inviting you to dance. As you join him, slow dancing next to your new friends, you wonder. Maybe you can learn to love Gale like Angel loves her Bucky.

It’s late when you return to your room. A familiar face greets you. Cal sits on his reading chair with a whiskey in one hand and your massive blue diamond necklace in the other.

“Where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, only the necklace.

“Out.”

“And what, precisely, does that mean?”

“I… was with friends.” 

“Is that why you smell like a brewery?”

You roll your eyes, but choose just the wrong time to do as his eyes shift to you.

His voice is dark and angry, and your palms begin to sweat. “You are my fiance, and you are to be my wife. You will wear this gift at all times and you will not leave my side without my express permission. In fact, I’ve come to an agreement with your mother.” He stands, looming over you. “You will stay in this room and share this bed with me.”

Your eyes widen, “That would be inappropriate, we’re unmarried.”

“You are still mine.” He clasps the necklace around your throat once more.

#masters of the air x reader #gale cleven x reader #buck cleven x reader #mota x reader #masters of the air fic

[jupitercomet]

hi bugs 🫶

i was just thinking, having thoughts when i started thinking like we know that uthd! bob is a total sweetheart right? but when that man is turned on and behind closed doors? then what does he become? because i can see “his eyes darkened” (but in a horknee way) era starting and this man becomes a fucking tease but with an edge if you get what i’m saying? especially bc i can just see him with the long hair and it just feels right. anyways, do with that what you will. i’m always going to push the bob fucks agenda ehehehheeh

-🧚‍♀️

okay, so this isn't exactly the prompt, but I thought about it long and hard (haha hard) and I genuinely think this is what Bob (or at least my Bob) would be like

warnings: ...I tried my best idk, language, religious verbage used about sex (I don't really know what to call it), smut - (oral f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, brief cum play/eating)

Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck. 

It’s crass and empty-sounding, and his mother would have his head if he referred to the act as such. Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck because he’s never been with someone who he could have meaningless sex with. Bob doesn’t do one-night stands, or friends with benefits, or any of that shit. Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck.

Bob Floyd doesn’t make love either.

The things he does in the bedroom really only ever border on loving. The filth that leaves his mouth could make the devil heat with embarrassment. Bob Floyd has loved every person he’s ever slept with, but he doesn’t make love to them.

No, Bob Floyd worships. 

“Oh, Bobby! Oh, fuck!”

Bob gets on his knees and repents for his sins until his jaw is sore. He finds absolution between your thighs, forgiveness reflects in the essence of you that shines on his lips and chin. He repents until he can’t breathe, until your thighs are vibrating on his shoulders. Darkened blue peer up at you through long lashes. His mouth works as he looks at his salvation.

“Bobby, I can’t—” Your back arches, your hand tugging on the strands of his hair, pulling him from all of the wicked and depraved that surrounds him. “Oh, god!”

Bob thinks that he should be the one saying that. 

He drinks from your nectar until his thirst is quenched. Ambrosia coats his tongue for... the third time? The fourth? Bob has lost count. All he knows is that he needs more. His knees ache, his jaw is numb, and Bob worships. 

He takes in your soft thighs and stomach and breasts. With his teeth and tongue, he praises and reveres. He memorizes your body like perfection, like art. To him, you’re a goddess. He nips and sucks like every inch of you is holy ground. 

“Please,” you’re gasping with pleasure, your hand in his hair to guide him to your face. He complies, Bob is nothing but your follower. “Please fuck me.”

Bob is nothing but your follower.

He loses himself in your warmth. He begs for forgiveness. His every breath is to please you. He looks at his salvation. You open yourself to him, accepting his sins and purifying them with every angel’s song that leaves your lips. You gift him heavenly noises and Bob swallows them greedily. 

Though you chant his name, it is he who prays for you. It is his hands that explore your Hellenic body, that worship and adore every handcrafted part of you. It is he who revels in your beauty — like an angel, otherworldly, too magnificent for his eyes to comprehend.

He spills his tainted soul inside you, bringing you to ecstasy like it’s his only purpose. And when you collapse, blissfully content, blinking up at him like you are nothing less than Persephone herself, he kisses you softly, as if to thank you for your benevolence. 

Bob Floyd doesn’t fuck. 

He watches hypnotized as his sins drip from between your narcissus petals. He traces his finger through the cleansed soul you spill from between your legs and he brings it to your lips like irresistible pomegranate seeds, unable to take his eyes away from the vision of you sucking on his fingers.

Bob Floyd doesn’t make love.

For that would imply that his love is mortal. That it is possible for him to focus on anything more than just your pleasure. Bob loves you in a way that exceeds earthly limits. He cannot see you as anything less than rapture.

So Bob Floyd worships.

He gets on his knees, mesmerized at how he’s filled you with himself. How he’s pleased you and you allowed him the privilege of his own pleasure. Two fingers part your folds so he can watch, what he believes to be, true divinity. He wets his lips.

“Bobby? What's— Oh!”

Most of all, Bob Floyd cleans up his messes.

#bob floyd blurb #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x sweet pea #sweeter than sugar #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

[sebsxphia]

my love. how do u think bob and/or rhett would react to this. need to know like it’s driving me insane !! ily 🫶🫶

omg sweet pea, this is fantastic!

ok ok ok bob’s going full panic mode, but trying to put on a brave face. “okay, okay. don’t panic, it’s happening sweetheart. it’s happening, oh fuck.”

he’s running to get his car keys and the over night bag you had packed. but when you tell him it wasn’t real he takes the biggest sigh of relief, laughing with you and giving you a kiss on your forehead. “don’t pull that again.”

rhett just kinda looks like a rabbit in head lights, rushing over to you. “shall i call the doctor?” as you planned to have a home birth on the ranch.

when you tell him it wasn’t real, you see the corners of his lips tug up into a smile. “you.” he sucks in through his teeth and gives you a soft kiss. “please pull that again when perry’s round and i want him to leave”

thank you so much for this idea my love! 💌 ilysm! mwah!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼💘

#💌you’ve got mail #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #🪷 sweet pea #robert bob floyd #bob floyd

[siempre-bucky]

pumpkin carving

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Summary: just a fluffy slice of life with Bob, carving pumpkins with your daughters.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love writing bob as a dadddd, it makes me so so soft! Enjoy

"Daddy! Look at my pumpkin!" Bob's youngest, Josephine, called as the front door opened abruptly. He just knew one of the picture frames hung by the door was teetering on the nail. 

Amy groaned from Bob's side on the couch, her head dizzy as the WSO maneuvered to pause Hocus Pocus playing on the TV. "She's so loud," she whined, her voice nasally from her cold. 

Bob smiled and let out a small chuckle. He'd been on ‘sick kid’ duty all day, soothing his eldest that couldn't go out and pick her pumpkin for Halloween. You opted for a grocery store pumpkin rather than your tradition of going to a pumpkin patch. Amy still sulked all day in her father's lap. 

Jo clutched the large pumpkin as she skipped into the living room. Bob's eyebrows raised and instinctively reached out to take the bright colored gourd as the eight year old struggled to hold on. "Look at that," he marveled, dropping the pumpkin into his lap. "Good job, sweet pea." 

Amy opened her mouth to ask about hers but stopped as she felt your hand on her forehead. "Your fever broke," you informed her happily, gently stroking her cheek before turning your attention to your husband. 

"How was the store?" He asked, turning his head slightly so you could press more soft kisses to the side of his face. 

"Busy, barely managed to find one that fit all your daughter's criteria," you teased, taking the large pumpkin you held and plopping it next to Amy which caused her to giggle. 

Before you left for the store, Amy gave you a neatly printed checklist for her pumpkin. It had to be a large one, wide, vibrant orange with the perfect handle. Bonus points would be given if it had funny little warts on it. 

The eldest fixed her glasses as she did a thorough investigation. You slid your hands down the front of Bob's chest until your chin was able to rest on his shoulder. "It looks perfect," she concluded, turning back to you with a smile followed by a sniffle. 

"Can we carve them now? Please! Please!" Jo begged, her lower lip protruding and her eyebrows upturned. You and Bob shared a look before nodding. She gasped and threw her hands up, "Ok, ok! I'll clean off the table and Amy can gather supplies…" she trailed off, skipping into the kitchen to prepare the table. 

You looked at the lack of color in your daughter's face and her dull eyes looked at you pathetically. "We can save yours for tomorrow, baby bob," you told her kindly.

Amy wrinkled her nose and shook her head in silent response. She wrapped her Avengers blanket around her shoulders and slowly walked towards the kitchen to help, quietly groaning like a sick zombie as she went. 

Bob rose from the couch, extending his arm for you to take. “How was she?” you asked in concern, looping your arm around your husbands. Bob pulled you close to his side so you could place your head on his shoulder, taking your sweet time to cross the room. 

“Slept most of the day. I managed to get her to eat and watch a couple movies on the couch,” he explained, gently pushing the door to crack it open. Amy sat at the counter with her arms crossed on the table, her poor head resting on her forearms while Jo danced around her, placing the plastic carving tools on the countertop. 

“My poor girl,” you cooed, nuzzling into his shoulder. 

You two lingered, lovingly watching your children. The moment didn’t last long when Josephine pulled out the baby pink hand mixer and went to plug it in. “Alright,” Bob hummed cautiously, rushing into the kitchen and scooping the youngest up by her underarms. “Let’s let mom and dad handle the power tools.” 

Jo rolled her eyes and huffed as the WSO placed her on one of the bar stools across from her sister. “It’s just a mixer,” she griped, “It’s not like I was trying to start an F-18.” 

“God forbid,” you joked, kissing the crown of her head, smoothing down her hair with one of your hands. 

She finally got her hands on the mixer after Bob took one of the knives and cut a hole in the top of the pumpkin. You grinned to yourself at the sight of the veins of his hand gripping the pumpkin, and he caught the look you gave him. He shot you a wink before pushing up his glasses with his wrist. “The slow setting, Jo,” he warned.  

You looked at Amy, who was humming along to the Halloween playlist you put on and sketching on her pumpkins face. A comforting warmth spread through you as you observed the way she acted; she lived up to the nickname Hangman gave her while still in the womb. Her tongue poked out while she focused, just like her father. She pushed her glasses up in a certain manner, just like her father. Your gaze shifted to Jospehine, her eyes furrowed in intense concentration as Bob helped her get the strings and seeds out. Her lips thin, just like Bob’s and pressed together in a tight line. The girls couldn’t be more different, but they were very much him. 

“Mom,” Amy sniffled, tapping your hand with the back of her marker. “Does this look ok?” 

She turned it around, the happiest face a pumpkin could have was drawn with black Sharpie. “Perfection, baby bob,” you chuckled. Amy grinned with pride and turned the pumpkin back around, eagerly picking up the dull tool to cut it. 

Jo stopped the mixer and grimaced as she pulled it out, strings and seeds from the pumpkin created a thick layer over the silver blades. “Bleh!” she shuttered. She then looked into the mostly clean pumpkin, her eyes scanning the walls. Absentmindedly, her little finger pushed the dial upward. 

With a loud whirl, the insides of the pumpkin splattered all over the four of you with a gross squelch. You all gasped, Jo quickly turned it off and harshly placed it on the counter, throwing her hands up. You looked down at your shirt (freshly washed with the new, nice smelling soap) to see the damage. Amy growled and used her hand to cup the slimy contents off her cheek and rim of her glasses. “Oops,” Jo laughed nervously. 

But Bob had gotten it the worst, his glasses were completely covered with goo. The three of you looked up at him as he wiped them clean, he looked down at the yellow ball in his hand and then at Jo. “You look too clean,” he said playfully before pressing it to her clean cheek. She gasped and tried to pull away but Bob kept smooshing it into her skin. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she laughed loudly, shaking her head to get away. 

“Mom,” Amy whispered, not wanting to interrupt Jo’s moment with her dad. Ask her if she willingly shared her beloved father and she would deny it in an instant. “I’m tired again.” 

You nodded and stood up, opening your arms for her. She gladly wrapped her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist before you hoisted her up out of the seat. “I’m going to put her to bed,” you said to Bob while Jo was distracted. 

Bob smiled and kissed her forehead, “Do you want me to finish your pumpkin?” he asked her. 

Amy placed her head on your shoulder and shook it. “Can we do it together tomorrow, dad?” she yawned. Bob nodded and kissed her forehead once more before you carried her out of the room. 

“Mom?” 

“Hmm.” 

“You smell like a pumpkin,” she giggled.

You giggled in return and sniffed dramatically, “So do you.”

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x fem!reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fanfic #top gun #top gun maverick

[bp-zb1fics]

i know a lot of people don’t ask for him but i really want to see something for hui. i know everybody says he’s “old” and stuff but he’s just soo fine. I’m requesting a long spicy and suggestive one shot of him with fem!reader. I’m fine with smut aswell. You don’t have to do it if you aren’t comfortable. thank you for your time!

Me and you under

pairing: hui x reader

pronouns: none used but reader is slightly fem-coded (calling hui oppa)

genre: heavily suggestive/smut, fluff sprinklings

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!

tw/tags: teasing, light d/s dynamics, oppa kink, kisses, making out, oral (reader receiving), fingering, non-explicit description of sex, lots of noises

wc: 1383

summary: everyone knows hoetaek is sweet on you but only you know how sweet he can be when the doors are closed.

a/n this took a little longer to write than expected because my condition hasn't been good but tysm anon for requesting! As a casual fan of pentagon, I can definitely agree that hui is a fine, fine man. Happy reading!

To most people, Hoetaek was a perfect sweetheart. 

Your doting boyfriend sported pea coats that always almost ended up draped over your shoulders with coos of “Aish, my jagi needs to bring a warmer jacket next time.” (Spoiler: you never do). And his wire-rimmed glasses that would constantly slip off his nose, leaving you to fuss and push them back up for him. 

He didn’t even need to be prompted to do aegyo to cheer you up or get you to smile. Seriously, this grown man. But you loved him for it. You couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. 

Because Hoetaek was the perfect sweetheart and completely soft for you but in the privacy of your bedroom, in moments when he felt a little restless, when you got a little needy, he became someone else entirely.

“Ah, ah, ah don’t be shy with me now.” He murmured.

His voice, which you absolutely adored, would drop just a little lower and take on a sing-songy quality that had you hooked on every word.

The first few buttons of his shirt have come loose, courtesy of yours truly, and you’re treated to the way the veins on his neck become prominent, how his adam’s apple bobs, his collarbones sharp and chest heaving slightly. You feel a little crazy, wanting to reach up and touch. But you can’t.

“You’ll behave for me right?” His breath ghosts against your ear, dragging his lips against these sensitive shell ever so lightly.

You inhale sharply and nod. He chuckles, keeping you pinned against the mattress. Hoetaek wasn’t particularly physically imposing but there was a certain glint in his eyes that made you feel small in all the right ways. 

“Words, jagi.” You both know he isn’t asking. It’s a demand, quiet and firm and boiling hot in your stomach.

Hoetaek can play the game for hours. And it doesn’t help at all that the way he looks at you leaves you breathless, words almost like air when you manage to produce some.

“Yes,” you exhale shakily as the look in his eyes grows darker. 

Then he smiles, not the cotton-candy sweet kind that you get from him on a regular day, no. It’s almost too sweet, saccharine and sharp around the edges. 

He leans forward, soft and deadly like a viper about to strike and coos condescendingly.

“Let’s try that again, shall we jagi? Will. You. Behave. For. Me?”

Each word he drags out, voice hitting you like a mallet wrapped in plush cloth, tender and dull but impactful. You can’t control how your breath hitches.

“Yes, yes.” Every limb goes pliant as he looms over you.

Hoetaek firmly grasps your chin so that you’re forced to look at his face as he presses further.

“Yes, what jagi?”

He watches as you weigh it out in your mind, letting the game drag out longer and giving into him. Well, he’s feeling a little impatient today.

Without warning, he drags a knee up, stopping short between the apex of your thighs. You get a little frantic but don’t buck down to meet it. Good. He’s not really in the mood to punish you today.

Rather he continues to hold your chin, letting his thumb drag over your lips.

“Say it,” he says almost like he’s taunting you. “You’re not getting anything till you say it. Address me properly, jagi.”

You look at him through your eyelashes, eyes just a little wet as you let your lips form the words.

“Yes oppa”

Hoetaek brings his knee all the way up, relishing in the way you gasp as he grinds it in. His hand abandons your chin to bury fingers into your hair while the other grips at your side, stroking teasingly over your hip bone. 

“That’s right, jagi. Very good.”

He presses his body closer and you can feel him, hot and heavy and firm against you. His lips latch onto your neck, tongue trailing heat up and down your skin. You whimper.

You feel him smile against your skin. Kisses are pressed against spots that have you shivering. Hands encircle your wrists and press them firmly to the sheets. Finally, he claims your lips, your mind going completely blank. He tastes like a sweet addiction, melting into your bones and pulling them apart.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but whine, his eyes dance playfully but the glint remains. You know what you need to do.

“Oppa please.”

He soothes your pleas with soft lips, the corners quirking upwards as he pulls his knee away and you whine again. Hands squeeze your wrists once more as if warning them to stay in place before they move downwards to spread your thighs.

Your clothes fall to the floor, leaving you bare save for one of his oversized sweaters. He presses a kiss on your hip before mouth going lower and lower until his breath is warm against the place where you want his mouth the most, quiet, needy noises escaping you.

He can’t help but run a few fingers between your thighs. You’re wet and messy and wanting for him. A few strokes has you keening, trying your best not to jerk forward. You can only watch as he pops those fingers into his mouth, staring at you hungrily as he hums around them.

You can only spread your legs further as if to entice him to take his fill. He doesn’t react, warm, wet fingers coming to tease where you’re most sensitive. 

“Now tell oppa where you want him, hmm?”

He stifles a laugh when you look at him incredulously before your cheeks tint even more and you quietly say it.

“Hmmm, I didn’t quite hear that, jagi.”

You say it again, louder and just a little more frantic in your desperation.

“Want oppa’s mouth on my…”

That’ll have to do for now, Hoetaek decides, unable to summon enough patience to wait for you to ask for it exactly how he wants it. You’re too tempting, all pliant and nearly bare beneath him.

The strangled sound you make still manages to echo through the whole room as he puts his mouth on you.

His tongue is criminal, lapping over places that blur your vision and leaving you wanting more. Your hips can’t stay still anymore, twitching nearly uncontrollably in a valiant effort to not suffocate him. Sometimes he stills, just humming and sending vibrations up your spine that drive you mad. His fingers sink into you, one, two, three, your eyes wet with tears as ecstasy begins to take hold.

Before you know it, you’re hovering in a haze of pleasure, creeping your way towards sweet, sweet release. The sounds that he rips out of you grow frantic, nearly begging. He knows your body well, much to your satisfaction and despair. There are some days where Hoetaek nearly tortures you, bringing you to the tipping point and drawing you back before you can fall over. 

Luckily today is not one of those days. He finishes you off and you yell, his mouth flooded by your sweetness, smearing it over his lips and chin as he works you through. Your legs are shaky with exertion but you still call out for him to take his own pleasure.

Hoetaek won’t lie and say that he didn’t tremble a little as he sinks into you, watching in awe as you throw your head back and call out for him. He’s the desperate one now, torn between dragging it out while you’re sensitive or chasing his end after having his pants grow tortuously tight while he pleasured you. The latter prevails after you look at him with wet eyes, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him into you. 

His own groans are almost musical, pitch rising as he spills himself. Hoetaek is always so gentle with you in the aftermath. Hands guiding you into the shower to rinse off, a soft towel to wipe you clean.

Moments like this are your favourite, resting your head against his chest as he hums something softly while carding fingers through your hair. Skin against skin, you’ve never felt closer. Before you know it, you’re drifting off, his voice a soft echo at the back of your mind, letting you know how much he loves you.

#kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop fics #kpop smut #boys planet fics #boys planet drabbles #boys planet x reader #boys planet 999 #boys planet #boys planet mnet #pentagon #pentagon smut #pentagon x reader #pentagon hui #hui pentagon #lee hoetaek #pentagon scenarios #18+ only #no minors please #minors dni

[hangmansgbaby]

Happy 300, lovely Cass! 🎊🥳🎊🥳🎉🥂🎉I'm so proud of you! To celebrate, can I please have Bob and Fluff Prompt 2 "Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."?

- XOXO Star

I think out of everyone on the team, Bob would be the best at braiding hair but he'd never let anyone know that.

The Coolest Thing

Prompt : “Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair.”

Summary: Bob's learned to do a lot of cool things over the years but his all time favorite is braiding hair.

Pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

Word count:<500

Masterlist | 300 Cele Masterlist

You hummed softly rocking you 4 year old daughter in your arms. Layla had been sent home from preschool that morning with a fever and you had spent all day trying ever remedy to sooth her but you were at your wits end between her crying and your 6 month old son.

"I want daddy!" She cried as you continued to rock her.

"I know sweet pea. Daddy will be home soon." You softly reply just as your son starts crying again. "I'll be right back." You try to set your daughter down but she clutches tight to you, her unruly hair now all in your face. "I know, I know. But I have to go get your brother. Just wait here for Daddy okay?" Layla reluctantly lays down on the couch still crying softly as you make your way to your son's bedroom.

"Hey handsome. You worried about sissy? Is that why you're so fussy?" You lift him out of his crib and he immediately stops crying. "Let's go check on her okay?" You started to make your way back into the living room but stopped when you heard your husbands voice.

"Hey sweet pea. How are you feeling?" Layla just softly cried, reaching for her father. You poked your head around the corner to see Bob moving your daughter to sit in front of him. Layla tries to turn into him but he turns her back as she starts to cry again. "Shh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair and then we can cuddle alright?" Layla nods as Bob starts to pull her hair back and begin the intricate french braid you taught him to do back in college. "Ya know sweet pea, your mommy taught me how to braid hair."

"Really?" Layla asks softly.

"Oh yea. Your mom had wild hair just like you that she needed to keep it braided just to see!"

"No way!" Layla laughs at Bob's over exaggeration.

"Yes way!" Bob laughs, tying off Layla's hair and letting her climb up to wrap her arms around him. "I think its the coolest thing I can do."

"But your fly in planes!" Layla says. "With Auntie Phoenix!"

"That is cool, but coming home to braid this pretty girls hair?" He tickles her sides causing her to giggle as she settles into his side. "That's the coolest thing." Bob says softly as Layla falls asleep in his arms.

"I think the way you are with them is the coolest thing." You say, walking up behind him on the couch.

"Hey pretty girl." Bob smiles as you lean down to kiss him. "Why don't you leave me with the kids and go relax? I'll make sure everything gets taken care of."

"Mmmm." You sigh. "This is the second coolest thing you do."

#gbaby 300 clebration #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert 'bob' floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #top gun bob