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rassvetsky · 1 year

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Make It Proper

part one | part two

robert "bob" floyd x fem!reader

"I was raised to love, you know? Not just love— but to love well. And my ma always told me that I should make a lover feel special, treat her even better if she treats me right." One of your hands went up then, to cup his face as an offering of solace. "I don't know if I succeeded in makin' you feel that way yet, but you're special to me. And I intend to respect you as such."

[4.8k] | fluff fluff fluff, lovesick bob :(, dude's so in love it's insane, anyway unprotected sex lol, cunningulus, fingering, and more of bob being absolutely adorable he's literally the sun itself. dedicated to @hangmanapologist because robyn you need to marry me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread. also @alinasmcu i hope you like it loml

Robert showed his true nature in subtle ways.

With the way his hands laced with yours as he held them both against the gear shift while he drove, with the excuse of "warming them up" as if the weather could get any warmer. Like when a quiet 'aww' escaped his lips upon the sight of a squirrel by the trees on your way to the restaurant he told you all about, despite trying so hard to appear a bit more serious, at least. Or like all those times that you caught him stealing a glance and then smiling to himself, acting as if his attention was on the menu he held instead. He ended up exchanging fun facts about the squirrels with you however, and the genuine smile on your lips worked as a clear indicator— he didn't have to act as if he's someone else with you.

Needless to say, the date was wonderful. An absolutely delicious bottle of Rosé in your glasses, stories exchanged for hours and cheeks hurting from smiling a bit too much. It was perfect, he was perfect— a true gentleman by all means, with the way he never made you question his respect towards you, and listened so attentively that you found yourself skipping over your words whenever you saw that beautiful smile reach his eyes.

He was in the middle of a story about Phoenix not-so-accidentally kicking Hangman on the balls when you suddenly reached for his hand over the table, curling yours over his with a smile so beautiful that for a moment he forgot where he was, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a smile from breaking out. He reached in a bit closer to the table then, lifting your hand to press his lips against the pulse point on your wrist, eyes on yours all the way through. "Where was I?"

"Hangman trying to play it cool," you replied straight away, caressing his hand so delicately that he could feel his heart beating against his ribs forcefully. "God, I wish you had a video of that."

"Me too, but he's oddly against videos like that," he chuckled. "Something about 'em being forever, I don't know. I don't really listen when he talks."

A soft giggle left you. "Good for you, it's not often that he says anything useful outside of missions anyway." you sighed, free hand going forward to join the other. "I have a lot of Jake-induced traumas, unfortunately."

He didn't reply to that, but instead, lifted both of your hands this time, nuzzling his face against them with a tender smile on his lips, eyes closed momentarily. "I missed your touch," he sighed out. "I hope that's not weird."

"It's barely been a week, Floyd, keep it in your pants." you chuckled, brushing your fingers against his skin, watching the comfort in his expression carefully. Your fingertips slid over his lips, witnessing them part upon your gentle touch, and it took all sorts of self-constraint on your end to not just push a little further and feel his tongue against them. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, he hung his head a little; and you could feel the curl of his lips against your palm when he smiled right against your skin. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm just— surprised, I think."

"Why's that?"

"When we all first got together, I didn't think I could be friends with you." he spoke with his voice barely above a sigh, and you probably would've had problems hearing him if you could focus on anything else around you, other than him. But all of your senses were directed straight at Bob, as his gentle eyes trailed over the streaks of the oak table. "You're so— you're like, beaming. Whenever I look at you. I try to find you in the room and you're over there, laughing and having fun and you just look like… the beauty that you have inside and out, it makes you look like you could make a grown man cry."

His eyes met yours then, a questioning gaze directed at you as if he was waiting for your confirmation on whether that made sense or not. You bit back a smile, watching as Bob brought your hands back down to the table, covering them with both his palms. "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, smile giving away the lighthearted nature of your question.

"No! No." a chuckle left him. "Just kinda felt like you wouldn't be interested in me while— you know, you could hang out with someone else."

It squeezed at your heart how precious he was; with his carefully picked out words and eyes unafraid of being vulnerable; it was clear that he felt comfortable enough to not restrain anything about himself around you.

You promised yourself that you would never break his heart, right then and there. Unbeknownst to you, he was doing the same when you met his eyes, his shoulders light with the amenity your company brought.

Even after all those hours spent on that same table, Robert wasn't ready to let go. The date was amazing, probably the best he's ever been to— and just the thought of calling a halt made him uneasy. He wanted to hear more of your stories, anyway!

But the genuine happiness in your face whenever your eyes met told him that there'd be plenty of time to tell all the stories possible, to know one another in a level in which nobody else does, to carry that trust with your entire soul. He felt at ease, knowing that your attention belonged to him, and his to you.

Which is why he didn't regret anything when he pulled up by your door, engine of the car still rumbling through and a street light illuminating just enough of your smile. "Guess that's it, huh?"

The sweet sound of your laugh tugged at his lips to widen his grin. "Hey! That sounds like you're leaving forever."

"Nope, don't you worry about that. I'm not leavin' ya anytime soon." he spoke, hand reaching out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers, so gentle as if you'd break apart easily. "I had the most wonderful time. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you, Floyd." you shook your head, giggling to yourself before taking his hand in yours, pressing your lips right against his palm with a fond sigh leaving your lungs. "And perhaps I should thank you upstairs with some coffee?"

The embarrassment was evident in the way his cheeks flushed immediately, as he chuckled a bit to himself. "You were the one who told me to keep it in my pants."

"Pervert," you laughed, shaking your head to both sides before reaching in to press your lips right against the tip of his nose, pulling away with a grin. "Coffee and conversation. We don't have to do anything else, you're free to set the pace. Whatever makes you comfortable, Lieutenant."

A soft exhale burned through his lungs, pure appreciation in his eyes as he stared at you. In a way, be felt cared for— with how you let him know that you respected his boundaries and such, and God, he wanted to slap himself for being a coward and not talking to you anytime sooner. It had barely started, whatever it was between you two— and he already regretted not just jumping on you and bombarding you with love from the first moment he laid eyes on you, at the beach right by Hard Deck.

His entire body was still hot with the earlier flush when you led him through your living room and even told him which couch was the most comfortable —you even cared for his butt, he thought—, and he watched you beeline to the kitchen in order to prepare some coffee for the both of you.

Bob didn't sit down straight away, instead choosing to walk around the living room a bit— the whole area felt personal, with the photos on the walls and plants well-cared for. There was a photo of you— no, the child you right in front of a Fokker Dreidecker fighter aircraft with your arms crossed across your chest and a bright smile on your lips, another one with you and a bunch of other aviators, with your helmet snug between your arm and waist. And a lot more with what he supposed, family and friends.

He wondered if he'd ever get to have a photo of you and himself around here somewhere. Maybe taken during a trip to the Mediterranean coast, maybe with his arms around you, maybe with him in a suit reserved for the most important day in a person's life—

"Your coffee is ready, my lord!" you exclaimed happily, ignoring the fact that he visibly flinched when you suddenly appeared by him —or probably that grin on your lips was the indicator of a sinister plan, did you mean to scare him?— and he took one of the mugs from you with gratitude. "I see you've found my shrine."

"Is that you?" he asked, pointing to that picture of you in front of the old aircraft. A chuckle left you at that and you nodded, earning a soft laugh from him. "A Dreidecker? Somebody knew what they were doing before joining the academy."

"Every child has a fascination with something." you spoke, getting a hold of his free hand to lead him towards the couch, a content smile on your lips. "I just acted on it, I think. I was devastated to find out that they don't use those planes anymore, though."

He laughed and laughed, eventually laughed a bit more as hours passed through the both of you in a blur. He spoke to you about his childhood, that tiny park on the way back home from school in which he used up all of his daily allowance buying girls taffy apples, his neighbor's scary German Shepherd whom he eventually became best friends with, those specific cookies that his mama used to make once a year which he couldn't ever get the recipe for, his first kiss, first fight, first pet and eventually, although not exactly the topic, the first time he saw you. And how you managed to ignite a fire within his soul that he didn't think was possible.

Your mugs were long-empty, the beige foam of the coffee left behind to dry by the peak of the porcelain; but the conversation was far too enticing to break apart for a refill. You were close enough to see the tiny, rare freckles on top of the rosy glint he carried on, the pads of his eyeglass sitting snug on both sides of his upper nose, the oceans and seas and a thousand lakes he kept in his eyes, and the kindest smile anyone has ever offered your way.

Robert was beautiful. Beautiful in the way he put his feelings out to words, beautiful in the way his hand found yours on top of the couch, beautiful in the way he leaned in to press his lips against yours mid-story just because he thought the sight was too pretty to hold back from. You smiled up at him then, a bit awestruck, before your arms eventually found their way around his neck just so you could lay your head on his chest.

He still felt like his heart would burst whenever you moved so close.

"D'you wanna stay the night, Robby?" you asked, voice a bit muffled by the shirt he wore. He was taken aback for a split second before you decided to continue. "You could hug me all night."

"Ah, God— you have no idea how happy that would make me, sweetheart." he chuckled a bit to himself, thankful for the position of your head because he could feel his cheeks and neck burning up. "If, well… if you're okay with that, I don't see why not."

"Yeah," you sighed, peaceful. "I'm more than okay with that."

Bob genuinely didn't know what to do with himself when he opened his eyes in the morning, only to find himself buried against your skin and the soft, sleepy exhales you let out surrounding his entire being. With all your limbs tangled together, it was hard to pull the blanket up to cover your shoulders but he managed to do it, before pushing himself up on the bed a little to lean against the frame. He could see you better in this position.

But his innocent little plans of watching you sleep and going crazy all by himself were cut off short with the little yawn you let out; he noticed how your arms tried to tug him back on top of you, yet he persisted. He had a clear view of you being absolutely adorable and in your most vulnerable state —and you trusted him with it, the thought got him all fuzzy inside—, he wasn't going to give up the chance to engrave it into his mind.

You let out an incoherent mumble, causing his smile to get wider as he hummed back, hand gently reaching your face to push away the strands of hair on the way. "Gonna wake up?" he hummed, now opting to caress your cheek with the backs of his fingers. "C'mon, I missed you. Get up."

"You missed me?" you yawned again, sleep still evident in your voice and you hadn't even opened your eyes— yet a smile found itself home on your lips anyway. "We've been sleeping."

"Yeah, and I missed you in my sleep." matter of factly, he declared. "In fact, I might drop dead right here if you don't kiss me in the next ten seconds."

Your sleepy giggles mixed up with his, as you rubbed your eyes a bit before slowly pushing yourself up for your lips to meet his cheek. A dramatic exhale left him after that, as if his life truly depended on that kiss alone, and he finally gave in to your constant tugs. Now with your arms around him and with his face buried on your neck, the two of you could relax again.

"Thank you for lettin' me stay." he mumbled against your warm skin after a while of serenity, and your first response was carding your fingers through his hair to massage the nape of his neck.

"I was the one who offered you to stay."

"I'm blessed." he chuckled, before raising his head a little to plant kisses across your chin. "Truly blessed with you."

"Getting all sappy after a night together?" your teasing tone had him hiding his face on your neck again, and the gesture was so heartwarming that you had to bite back a wide smile from breaking out. "Wonder how you're gonna get after a different kind of night together. Although, you did say it's not proper, didn't you?"

"I said it wasn't proper in the car!" lifting himself up on his arms above you, he pouted down at you. "Without even taking you out on a date. I'm not raised that way."

"Care to elaborate on how you were raised?"

The momentary scrunch of his nose as he looked away to think was sacramental to you, to say the least, and when he looked at you again with that familiar shy smile, you knew that he was going to blurt out the sweetest words the humankind has ever heard.

"I was raised to love, you know?" he was down on his elbows now, too close, but not nearly close enough for you. "Not just love— but to love well. And my ma always told me that I should make a lover feel special, treat her even better if she treats me right."

One of your hands went up then, to cup his face as an offering of solace.

"I don't know if I succeeded in makin' you feel that way yet, but you're special to me. And I intend to respect you as such." the way he got a bit quieter towards the end in embarrassment was so endearing that you chuckled to yourself, fingers brushing against the flush on his cheeks as he not-so-snugly followed your touch.

Robert was so perfect to you. With his hopes, fears and everything that he believed in; he was so pristine. And now with his cerulean orbs staring right back at yours with a boyish expectancy and thrill, elbows holding his weight up just so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable with the pressure— you couldn't think of anything else but kissing him.

And that's what you did— a harsh tug to the back of his neck just so his lips could meet yours, feeling one of his arms snaking around your figure to hold you so delicately as if you'd break apart. Perhaps that was one of your favorite traits of his, the care— how he's so gentle, so careful with the way he picked out his words and held you, touched you. He never failed to make you feel like the only person in the whole wide world, like nothing else but you could ever matter to him.

The way he kissed you back was tentative, as if he wasn't sure where exactly that kiss would lead. But you couldn't help a quiet whimper leaving your lips when he experimentally grazed your lower lip with his teeth, the sound giving him enough courage to nibble on the soft flesh before finally letting a bit of his weight rest on yours, all close and warm. The arm which he was still using to keep himself up moved downwards with that, feeling your body through the thin layer of clothing that covered it and gently leading your thighs around his lower waist.

It made him feel like your bodies were made for one another. How electrifying, he thought.

Neither of you were in a rush, it seemed, when he pulled away with a radiant grin only to tug your t-shirt upwards. You moved in sync with him to get rid of the article of clothing, your upper body completely bare before his very eyes— but not even for a moment did you think of hiding yourself from his curious gaze. Bob's hand found yours, lacing your fingers together before he let his lips latch onto the skin of your neck, leaving short little pecks all the way to the valley of your breasts. A soft sigh left you, stomach churning with anticipation and the type of flutter that you missed so much.

"You'd tell me if you wanted me to stop, yeah?" his eyes were so bright when he looked at you again, chin millimeters away from your stomach and you nodded, giggling a little. "Good, that's good. 'Cause, um— you're so pretty and I jus' wanna kiss you all over, to be honest."

"My heart's gonna burst if you don't keep going, Floyd." you whispered back, earning a lovesick glare from him before he bit down on your skin, right by the side of your waist— pulling yet another giggle out of you before he could get rid of the rest of your clothes.

He made a quick work of it, letting your underwear fall to the ground with his hoodie —yours, actually, you never thought that your oversized comfy hoodies would come in handy like this— following suit. You traced the outline of his pecs with your fingertips, and the way he sucked in a deep breath only egged you on to continue.

You followed along the barely visible happy trail, hooking a finger on the waistband of the boxers he wore to sleep, teasingly pulling on it a bit before letting it snap back into place. "This won't be fair if you have a mind to play with me, sweets." he spoke, trying to sound all intimidating— yet he sounded like he was barely keeping it together, a smile tugging on his lips as he stared down at you. You smiled back at him, head tilting innocently.

"It's really not fair at all that you're still not touching me where I need it," you mumbled, the sweetest of all pouts on your lips which he desperately wanted to kiss away— but instead, he returned to his former position, face hovering over your hip bones only to plant kisses on the twin peaks. "Rob, please."

"Patience," he hummed, his lips now on your upper thighs, carefully letting one rest on his shoulder as if he was testing how it'd feel wrapped around him. He seemed to like the idea though, since before you knew it, a playful glint was evident in his eyes while he stared at you and softly blew on your bare core, taking mental notes on your reaction to the sudden cold. "You need my touch here, is that it?" you nodded rapidly.

"S'okay sweetheart," the way his breath hit against your core with each of the words he let out was about to drive you absolutely insane. "Gonna take care of you, don't worry."

And Bob was a man of his word.

Because the second his lips met your clit, he was grunting and panting against you and God, you wondered if he knew just how much he affected you. With soft whines leaving your lips, you tried to buck your hips up a bit to meet him a bit more forcefully, but he already had two arms wrapped around your upper thighs— he easily pinned you down again, only to let his tongue run through your folds with a drawn out hum. The taste of you taking over his senses drove him to the point of insanity.

"Fuck, Robby, keep going— please keep going." you whined out, continuous sounds leaving you at that point— and Robert absolutely basked in them, the pride of knowing just how good he was making you feel making all the blood rush to his cock, painfully hard against the mattress— just like that evening in the car with you on his lap, lips all swollen from the harsh nature of the kisses you two shared. "Why the fuck are you so good at this—"

His method of shutting you up was a bold flick of his tongue against your clit while he let go of one of your legs, only to push your folds apart with his fingers and spread your essence with his middle finger. It slipped in rather easily, allowing him to push in a second one— and you were really thankful at that moment that you never noticed just how big his fingers were, otherwise the thought would've made you a lunatic.

His fingers got caught on a slow yet steady pace, and he took your slightly distraught state as an opportunity to push his body up and to plant his lips against yours. His fingers did wonders inside of you, but magically, his lips felt even better— the amount of emotion he poured out into the gesture had your senses flooding with nothing but adoration towards him. Swallowing your moans and whimpers, he curled and uncurled his fingers, exploring you until hitting a spot that felt just right, and the way you shook against his hold left a grin on his lips, into the kiss.

You were surprised by how unphased he was, completely focused on his task of bringing you pleasure while he could very well get it all over with and call it a day— he didn't budge even when you clawed on his back, wrapped your arms around his shoulders just to pull him impossibly close. He didn't budge when you broke the kiss away just to tell him —in explicit detail— what you wanted him to do to you, and how much he was affecting you.

If only you could hear his internal screams, though.

His lips were by your neck by the time the constant twitching of your legs and the warmth taking over inch by inch started becoming the indicator of an upcoming orgasm, and he could feel it from the way your walls clenched around his digits so hard— the thought of you clamping down on his cock like that pulled a soft sigh out of his lips, drowned out by your constant drawled out moans. "Shh, that's it," he whispered, lips right below your ear now. "Gonna come on my fingers, yeah? That's a good girl, so loud and pretty for me."

And if the abuse of your sweet spot wasn't effective, his words definitely did it— lighting up the sparkler waiting to erupt, making an overwhelming mix of clarity and fogginess take over your entire mind for the minutes to come. He helped you ride it down as gently as he could, still whispering sweet nothings to your ear before pulling his fingers out. And to your absolute surprise, he pushed himself up a bit, putting on a show of how he licked his fingers clean— with eye contact all through.

Bob was going to be the death of you.

So you only gave yourself a minute or two to catch your breath before pushing him down on the bed, wet core sitting snugly right on top of his clothed length when you straddled him. He stared up at you, expression a bit surprised, maybe even starstruck with how a smile won over so quickly. "I was getting to it, you really lack patience—"

"Rob, sweetheart, you take too long," you huffed out, earning a chuckle from the other as he grabbed your thighs, squeezing the flesh under his palms. "Did you want my heart to burst or something?"

"A taste of your own medicine."

"Oh, shut up. Not funny." you spoke, still laughing a bit nonetheless. Getting up on your knees to pull his underwear down just enough to pull his length out, you gave him a couple of jerks, palm tight against his flushed pink tip moist with precum. "You have no idea how much I've been wanting this."

"Is that why you asked me to stay the night? How scandalous—"

"Robby!"

"Alright, alright," a breathless chuckle left him, eyes trained on the grip of your fingers around his length and the way you lined him up with your entrance. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head when he first felt your warm core on his most sensitive spot, the glide through your folds and the shaky breath you left out. He wasn't in a much better situation himself, afraid of letting go of the breath he held just in case his lungs would give out— but he decided to speak up again nonetheless, still a lot of things to say but never enough time. "For the record, me too. I thought about this a lot."

"Did you, now?" your voice was nearly shaking when you started sinking down on him, a slight hiss leaving your lips. "What'd you think about?"

"Thought of you exactly like this. On top of me, starin' at me like that— drove me crazy."

"Just the thought drove you crazy?"

"Yeah, you do that to me, baby."

"Aha! Oop— here we go. God damn it—" the sight of Robert, all soft with his hair all over the place and a spatula in his hand was incredibly endearing, but watching him try to balance blueberries on top of the stack of pancakes for five minutes now wasn't exactly your desired breakfast activity. You were drained and starving— the blueberries could fuck themselves.

"Bob, we're gonna eat 'em anyway," you whined, elbows against the kitchen table when he turned around to flash you a smile which quietly told you not to worry about it. You were too hungry to not worry about it. "I'm gonna die. Feed me or I'm calling the cops."

Taking your words for granted, he turned around again, this time with the plate which he worked so hard for —and you appreciated it! Just wanted to appreciate it faster, is all—, watching another blueberry roll down to the plate with a sigh before setting the plate down on top of the table. "I swear I'm better at this."

"Balancing blueberries is a shit skill, I wouldn't be disappointed if you weren't."

"Hey! Stop disrespecting my skills!" with a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes, he pushed his glasses up a bit on his nose, sitting down on a chair right next to yours as a soft grunt left him. You giggled, letting your head find its spot on his shoulder and feeling an arm wrapping around you securely— and a kiss to your hair, of course. "I'd walk through fire for you and you're out here judging me for trying to make the perfect breakfast."

"Any breakfast would be perfect with you!"

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