#robert bob floyd imagine

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

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

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

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

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

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

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

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

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d been a goner right then and there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

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

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

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

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

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

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[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

[ohtobeleah]

Vice //

Summary: Bobs one vice in life just so happened to be the very embodiment of what banished Adam from paradise. The human equivalent of that stupid fucking apple that he and Eve ate. You were Bob's forbidden apple: His only vice in life. His guilty pleasure and undoing. You were Jake Seresins little sister.

Warnings: Bob Floyd x F!Seresin!reader. Age gap. Reader is 24. Bob is 35. Smut! 18+ only. Unprotected sex. Oral both male & female receiving. Porn with a slight plot. Star crossed lovers.

Word Count: 5.4k

Author Note: Lewis fucked us all up with this stellar outfit. Now it’s Bobs turn to fuck us.

“You enjoying the party?” Robert Floyd, for the most part, was an enigma of a man. He didn't drink, he didn't smoke, he didn’t gamble or participate in extreme sports. He didn't seem to have any sort of vice or undoing that threatened to short circuit his usually settled persona. His ability to just exist without an urge to go a little off the rails drove Jake Seresin up the wall. “Or at least trying to?” Jake asked as he nudged at Bob's shoulder. 

The usually egomaniacal aviator had invited all the Daggers to his family's summer vacation home for a weekend off. And let’s face it—If there was one thing the Seresins knew how to do it was throw a fucking party. And oh boy, did Bob Floyd have a reason to accept that invitation–because unbeknownst to his entire team, the people who knew him better than most, he did in fact have an undoing, he did have a vice. 

That vice just so happened to be the very embodiment of what banished Adam from paradise. The human equivalent of that stupid fucking apple that he and Eve ate. You were Bob's forbidden apple: His only vice in life. His guilty pleasure and undoing. 

You were Jake Seresins little sister. 

“I'm officially Nats personal beverage holder.” Bob replied as he stood with Jake overlooking the deck littered with people dressed in ridiculous neon he didn't know, didn't care to get to know and people he knew of that really didn't seem to know he was there. Except Jake's immediate family, and the Daggers. “But yeah–it's been a good day.” Lies, complete lies. Bob just wanted to go home. He wanted to change out of the ridiculous outfit Phoenix had helped him toss together and just be. His only reasoning behind accepting the invite out to good ol Texas was you. 

And much to Roberts Floyds dismay, he hadn’t seen you all day. You weren't present at the Seresin family get together. That was a crime in and of itself, but Bob couldn't blame you for skipping out. Hell he kinda wished he had to. 

“Why don't you let your hair down a little?” Jake smirked as he took the beer in Bob's hand and took a swig. It was now his, Phoenix could get another one. “Crack open a beer, kick your feet up?” Jake continued as the sun had begun to set over the waters edge. “You’re off duty, and I won't snitch.” 

“I'm good.” Bob smiled softly, this just wasn't his thing. It was clearly Rooster's thing though, he hadn’t stopped all day. He’d been running a complete muck with Coyote for what felt like forever. Bob was pretty impressed the guy was still standing. “I haven't seen your sister around?” Bob tried to play it off as casually as he could, but there was a split second in the silence that followed where Bob thought that his casual curiosity could have been taken as more than just that. “Just noticed she wasn't here, the rest of the Seresin gene pool is.” It was the easiest excuse Bob could have given to throw Hangman off his scent. Jake raised a single brow for a few seconds as he looked at his fellow aviator–trying to decipher if there was more to that statement than met the eye. But as he took another sip of the beer he’d stolen, pondering, he decided Robert Floyd wasn't exactly your type. 

“Nah, she's still in Alberta the last time I spoke to her.” Although there was a caution in Jake's tone, he gave Bob the reason behind your absence. “Living the life of the young and the free.” He chuckled to himself softly as he shook his head. You had always been what your family considered a ‘Flight Risk’. Jake understood it, your parents not so much. You were the black sheep, the one out of the three Seresin siblings that didn't have a career plan by the age of fifteen and a scholarship to college by graduation. “Miss her though.” It was then Jake looked at Bob with squinted eyes before he placed the now empty beer bottle back into his hand. “Don't ever tell her I said that.” 

Hang on–Was that supposed to be a test? Bob didn't know what to say, so he cleared his throat and shook his head as he pressed his lips together in a fine line. The safest thing to say right now was nothing at all. Play meek. It worked out well enough for him so far. 

“Try to at least look like you’re enjoying yourself man.” Jake teased as lovingly as he could before he turned to head on down towards the lake. It really was a beautiful time of year, Bob would at least admit that. 

While everyone around him seemed to be overindulging in extracurricular activities that made Bob feel more like a recluse than ever before, he wandered into the lakehouse that could technically be considered a mansion. The place was massive. Made of old pine and oak. He made his way upstairs to the bathroom closest to the room he was sharing with Fanboy and Rooster. He thought he’d hide out for a while, have a shower, decompress, and hopefully find it somewhere inside himself to enjoy the rest of the festivities to come later in the evening. 

But as Bob turned the handle on the old wooden door that led into one of the many bathrooms in this mansion-esk lake house the Seresins owned, he was stunned to see you stepping out of the shower in a towel that just barely covered your ass. 

“Hey! Do you mind!?” You hissed at the sound of the door opening behind you. Bob's jaw nearly hit the ground with a thud at the sight before him. You were the last person to expect to see here. Especially not even fifteen minutes after Jake had just told him you were still in Alberta. In a whole other country, a million miles away from where he wanted you to be. 

Here. 

But somehow you were. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a cruel summer after all? 

As you turned around to see who had inadvertently forgotten the universal code to knock before entering a closed bathroom to scold whoever it was that intruded on your privacy, your hardened expression of annoyance softened almost immediately as the person standing in the doorway. Not yet in the bathroom, Bob stood still in the hallway silently and in shock. How were you even here right now? Naked in the bathroom after what seemed like a shower? With sopping wet hair and glazed skin. 

“Jesus Christ Bob don't you knock!” You hissed as you reached over to pull Bob into the bathroom by the neon muscle-T he wore. Before you shut the door and made sure to lock it, you looked both ways down the hall. Nope, not a single soul was in sight. Good. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

Bob's eyes lit up at the sight of you before him. His eyes were clear as baby blue crystals on a good day–but whenever he was looking at you? Robert Floyds eyes let you know where home was. 

“What are you doing here?” Bob asked as he watched you walk over to the vanity to continue drying your hair. Holding it to one side as you looked at him in the mirror looking at you. He stood behind you with hands gently holding your hips, thumbing at the fuzzy fabric of the towel that clad your curves. “Your brother just told me you were still in Alberta. I've spent the most of my day looking around for you only to find out you weren't even coming.” A one sided smirk appeared across your face as you watched Bob duck his head to kiss the exposed skin of your neck. He paused against you to take in the aroma of your body wash, Raspberries and Juniper. “But yet here you stand? What gives, kid?” 

You and Bob had a complicated thing going. The first time you met the big eyed, bigger hearted Weapons System Officer was at a ceremony acknowledging the efforts and near sacrifices the Daggers had made during the uranium mission that saw your older brother permanently stationed in North Island. 

Bob was the cute guy who never took his eyes off you the entire night, he swore he could watch you for hours on end without ever getting tired of the view. You reminded him of someone though, your mannerisms, your laugh, the way you show boated when you won that game of darts against Rooster. That's when the penny dropped. 

You were Hangman's little sister. Forbidden and untouchable. 

“I heard that a certain detachment team was on the annual invite list and changed my mind last minute.” You explained softly as you held Bob's arms in your own around your waist. His chin fell to your shoulder as he held you tight to his chest. Looking at you looking at him through the mirror in front of you. “I missed you.” 

“Is there a reason why you’re out here in the cold instead of inside where the party is, Lieutenant?” Bob heard a voice coming from behind him as he looked out over the back deck of the Hard Deck. he just needed some fresh air to wrap his mind around the fact he thought a Seresin was stunning. 

“You must be the famous sister we’ve all heard so much about?” Bob replied as he watched you come to stand beside him, fishing out one of those stupid vape things Fanboy had told him about from your back pocket. “Hangman talks highly of you.” Bob's eyes lingered on the way you held it to your lips, he watched as you inhaled, held, pulled the contraption away from your glossed lips and gestured it out for him to take as you blew the excess away. 

“Reluctantly, that's me.” You admitted. “You’re Lieutenant Floyd.” Bob's heart skipped a beat when you said his name. He wanted to ask you how you knew but his expression must have given it away because through a soft chuckle of your own you answered the question on the tip of his tongue before he even had to ask. “It's pinned to your jacket.” Right.

“Those things will kill you ya know.” Bob smiled softly as he watched you take another hit as you looked out over the railing, leaning against it with your elbows. “Aren't you worried?” 

“As opposed to flying F-18’s into enemy territory on highly classified missions?” You shot back through a teasing smile before you pocketed the thing you knew you should probably give up before it became an addiction. “We all die soon enough Lieutenant Floyd, living in the moment is more my speed.” 

“Bob.” Bob replied with a soft smile. “You sound like your brother, but please, call me Bob.” There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you before you looked the aviator up and down with a knowing eye. Before Bob knew what he was doing, he was following you down the steps towards his car, he was the designated driver for the evening for Phoenix, Rooster and Payback. But after you leaned in to whisper in his ear the hottest thing he'd ever heard– Bob venmoed them all enough to cover a taxi. 

“Well Bob, Bob Floyd, do you wanna get out of here?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” Bob knew it was wrong, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to your request. He did want to get out of there, with you. Yes. He’d never wanted to get out of somewhere more in his life. You were gorgeous.

You snuck in through Bobs garden gate every night that summer just to seal your fate. 

“I missed you too.” Bob held your gaze in the mirror as his hand began to wonder. You didn't stop him from exploring, but your graze broke from his as you watched his slightly callioused and large hand roam down the expanse of your towel clad pelvis. Slowly, seductively, all the while he broke from looking at you to kiss the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “You stopped texting me?” It was a question disguised as a statement, but you knew Bob wanted an explanation to your sudden lack of contact. It had been just shy of two entire months. “You miss me but you stopped texting me? That's a little contradictory, don't you think kiddo?” 

“I was trying to get over you.” Whimpers, that’s what your words came out like as your head fell back against Bob's exposed shoulder. His hand kept exploring—lower and lower until finally he was peeling up the fuzzy fabric of your towel. Creeping between your legs right where you wanted him. “You’re my brother’s—“ Before you could explain that you felt sick of yourself for crossing the line with Bob, his fingers were delicately and deliberately slipping past your slick folds as your knees nearly gave in. You had to reach up and out around Bob's necks to steady yourself. Your breath caught in your throat as Bob's nimble fingers worked to slowly yet oh so perfectly tantalise your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“I’m not your brother's anything.” Bob growled in your ear. You brought out a primal instinct in the Weapons System Office not a single soul but yourself had ever seen. “You ghosted me.” 

“You’re thirty five.” It wasn’t enough of an excuse not to fuck you. Again that was. Over and over and over again. 

“And you feel twenty something.” Bob smirked against your shoulder. The same shoulder he worked to mark up. “How old are you again?” 

“Twenty four—“ It came out barely above a whisper as you spread your legs a little wider as Bob spread your pussy apart. Circling the very spot he knew was your undoing. Its only purpose in life was to bring pleasure, that sensitive bundle of nerve endings. “Bob—“ You breathed as he snaked his supporting arm up from around your waist to untuck the white towel that had been hiding your perfect silhouette from him. It had been far too long for Bob's liking. “We shouldn’t—“ But Devils roll the dice and angels roll their eyes. What didn’t kill you made you want him more. “We really shouldn’t.” 

That fact was a no brainer. Bob knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be here in the bathroom of one of the most extravagant lake houses he’d ever seen. He shouldn’t be hiding away with you, Hangman's little sister, with the pads of two of his fingers dancing over your clit as you wither away in his warm embrace. He shouldn’t be obsessed with the way you sound trying to contain the whimpers that threaten to escape you as your arousal coats his digits.

Bob shouldn’t have slept with you the first night he met you. He shouldn’t have slept with you in the days and weeks that followed. He shouldn’t have felt the way you came around his length like you’d never felt an orgasm before. He shouldn’t have laughed when you told him you were starting to catch feelings—and Bob definitely shouldn’t have told you that he may or may not have been falling in love with you. Because that’s the last time he heard from you before you ghosted him. 

Bob knew he shouldn’t. But he was going to over and over and over again because he only had one vice. One undoing. 

You. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Bob groaned as he stopped his taunting ways and spun you around to face him. The sudden loss of satisfaction made you pout, but when Bob shifted you up onto the vanity as he stood firmly between you legs, that pout vanished rather quickly. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away. I’ll go back downstairs to that shitty party.” For a moment Bob reverted back into his normally reserved self. He ducked his head so your gaze couldn’t match his own. “I only came here with the hope in mind you’d be here.” 

It made your heart skip a beat inside your chest. You really liked Bob. He was kind and compassionate and he listened to you when you spoke, he didn’t just stand there and nod. Pretending. He valued your smile and your laugh and unlike your brother who gave him chronic headaches on his best days—Bob seemed to like the time he spent with you. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

“I want you.” Was all you said before you were fisting your palms into the fabric of Bob's muscle-T. Since when had he gotten so big? Bob wasn’t this big when you last saw him. His arms were the size of tree trucks now. You would have remembered that. “I’ve never not wanted you.” It felt so wrong but oh so right to admit as you pulled Bob's shirt up and over his head before you tossed it away. Forgetting its existence. “I'm sorry I ghosted you, it’s just you’re my brothers—“ Before you could finish your sentence Bob's lips were on yours in a feaverish kiss that took your breath away. His hands cupped at your cheeks to keep you close before he wrapped his digits into the mess of wet hair behind your head. 

“We all die soon enough, living in the moment is more my speed.” Bob interrupted as your eyes glazed over his, searching for any ounce of regret he might have. “Where’d that version of you go? The one who didn't care?” 

“She died when I started falling in love with you.” It was enough to send Bob over the edge as he drank in the sight of you. All his for the taking as he caressed your cheek with one hand. “That's why I left, you told me you loved me and I knew I loved you back and that's crazy, this, is crazy Robert.” Trying to deny inevitable feelings was never a good idea. All it did was cause chaos and suffering for both parties involved. “You can't love me, and I can't love you, it'll never work and my brother will kill you. He’ll delete you off the face of the earth!” You tried to smile through the tears that threatened to spill very momentarily. “And I don't know about you, Bob, but I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Bob cooed as he ran the pad of his thumb across your lower lips. “Right now though? I just wanna be with you.” With gentle hands you worked at the belt buckle that was cinched around Bob's waist. Looped around the jean shorts he wore that made his outfit all the more atrocious. “I've missed you, missed everything about you.” 

“Well Lieutenant–” You teased as you discarded Bob's belt to the side, it landed on top of the muscle-T he’d once been wearing as you slowly worked to unzip his fly. “Now seems like as good a time as any to get acquainted.” Bob's lips were once again on yours in a needy lust filled kiss the second he could break his gaze from your beautiful eyes. His hands were all over you, exploring your curves and dips as you sunk your hand into his boxer briefs. Palming him off as his soft moans echoed against the back of your throat. 

“Oh god–” Bob choked out as you worked your fist up and down his erection, standing to full attention and straining against the confines of his shorts. “Baby, baby I'm dying here.” It was all mumbled into your mouth as Bob continued his assault on your mouth, his tongue danced with yours expertly like it hadnt been two entire months since he’d last seen or felt you. “Let me get these pants off.” 

With a giddy grin that expanded ear to ear you pulled back so that you could watch Bob shimmy out of his jorts. He was a sight that made your mouth water. Since when did he get so fucking big? 

“You've been working out?” You asked to fill the silence that filled the bathroom. Bob hopped around on one foot for a second as he tried to rid himself of the remaining articles of clothing that still adorned his body. 

“Yeah well it was either that or through myself a pity party because the woman I admitted my love to up and vanished into thin air.” Bob huffed as he stood up straight, completely naked and exposed in front of you. “So yeah, I worked out, alot.” 

“How's your cardiac output?” You teased as you watched him step closer to where he’d left you on the vanity, pumping his hardened length a few times as he did so. “Because I’m in real need of a good fuck.” Bob's cheeks flushed a crimson hume at the way you spoke to him. He loved it, no one ever spoke to him the way you did. So open and free. “Make me feel good Lieutenant.” You pleaded through a needy whine as you felt Bob pull you forward by your hips. Lining you up with the tip of his shaft. Teasing your entrance as he slid his tip between your folds, collecting your arousal with every move. The sexual tension was enough foreplay for the both of you. “Bob, please.” 

With one motion, Bob was pressing himself inside you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Drawing him in as close as you could pull him as every inch of him slowly disappeared inside you. It felt heavenly, you felt full, complete. 

“Ohh fuck–” You gasped when Bob bottom out and pressed his forehead to yours. “God did your dick get bigger too?” Bob chuckled at your remark as he remained still inside you, giving you a second to breathe and stretch to his girth. He had always loved the sight of your pretty and perfect pussy full of his cock. 

“Not that I've noticed.” Bob smiled as he kissed you before slowly pulling out a few inches only to push himself back in. working up a slick rhythm that made the pair of you lose all sense of any consequence that may come of your impromptu rendezvous. “You’re perfect, so perfect for me aren't you baby?” It felt like heaven and hell all at once. 

“Missed your cock.” You whined as Bob picked up the pace enough that it had your jaw dropping and your eyes rolling. “Oh god feels so fucking good.” You could feel the grip Bob had on your hips as he fucked into you–manouvering your body just enough that when his balls slapped against the curve of your ass his tip kissed your cervix. “Ahh–” 

“Shh–” Bob pressed the palm of his hand across your mouth to silence your screams. “Do you want someone to find us?” He asked as he picked up the pace. Fucking you hard. “Do you want your brother finding out who fucks you this good? That you like older men? Is that what you want, baby? For him to catch us in the act so you don't have to tell him?” Your lungs felt like they had been ignited from the lack of oxygen as Bob kept his hand across your mouth and pressed up against your nose. It felt otherworldly, being manhandled like this, dominated. 

Bob didn't dominate at anything in life. But he sure did dominate in the bedroom. 

“Let me get a taste of you gorgeous.” Bob groaned as he pulled out of your fucked out cunt, watching as your arousal dripped out and down to your ass. He dropped down to lick a nice line up your pussy—collecting anything you’d give him as he settled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Shaking his head all the while his glasses fogged. 

“Ahhh! Fuck! Bob!” Your legs shook as your hand flew down to grip at Bob's hair, slightly damp from swimming, slightly dry from the heat of the sun he’d once been in. Now? He was between your legs, enjoying his favourite meal. 

Bob lapped away at your dripping core for what felt like an eternity. You weren’t going to complain about it either as you pulled at his hazel locks and let your legs drape over his strong shoulders. You wanted so badly to say it out loud. Your heart was near bursting out of your chest with need to scream it to the heavens as Bons eyes met yours from between your legs. So you said it. 

"I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?” Bob looked up grinning like a devil. 

“So sweet, you’re like candy.” Bob's chin was coated as he came up for air, you were so close. “Let’s see how pretty you look when you cum all over my fingers.”

“Please, please—“ You were so desperate to feel that familiar release. “Bob, I wanna cum for you.” With lustful baby blue eyes that seemed three shades darker he slipped two fingers inside you. Coaxing you forward in a come here motion. Knowing exactly what to do and when to do it to send you hurtling towards you first, but certainly not your last orgasm. “Ahhh fuck! Yes—yess!” 

“Oh I can feel you clenching around my fingers baby, why don’t you show me how pretty you look when you cry?” Bob knew you were standing on the edge with the way you were clinging to him. “Come on darlin’ don’t get all shy oh my now, cum of me.” It was as if your body knew who it belonged to as your feet rose and your legs shook. “Yeah that’s it, cum for me you filthy girl.” Bob growled as he watched your jaw slack. Your eyes began to roll into the back of your head as your chest puffed towards him. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so expertly that he had you gushing. Crying out his name like a perfect symphony. 

“Bob, Bob, ohhh fuck Bob!” Bob grinned ear to ear as he watched you cum, watched your entire body burn from his touch and only his. There wasn’t another man on earth who could make you come alive like Robert Floyd could. 

He fingered you through it, waiting until you were steady and breathing through it. Your back pressed against the mirror in an attempt to support yourself as Bob moved away to turn on the shower. 

Steam immediately began filling the bathroom that smelled of sex and need. You didn’t need any more time to come down from your high as Bob came back over to you with a naughty look in his eye. 

“What are you up to Floyd?” You giggled as Bob scooped you up off the vanity and carried you into the shower. Warm water rained down over the pair of you as Bob connected his lips to yours, pressing your back up against the cool tiles as you sunk low on his length. Taking him with ease as he slowly bucked his hips. 

“Just taking care of you.” Bob mumbled as he supported your weight up against the wall. Fucking into you like you were his personal sex toy. “Love being inside you, so tight and perfect, all for me.” 

Bob was quick to change his angle, he wanted to feel all of you, give you all that he could. As your tongues fought for dominance against one another Bob hooked his arms up under your knees and held your still. Bucking his hips into you with so much force it knocked the breath right out of your lungs. 

“Ahhh fuck oh my god—!” 

“Shhh, shhh I got you baby I’ve got you.” Bob smirked to himself. He loved the way you came completely undone for him. “You look so pretty like this, all fucked out with nowhere to run, I could keep you up like this all night.” That Bob could, the way his arms were glistening from the water pouring over you made you clench around him. He was big, bigger than ever before. “Oh god if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.” 

“Wanna taste it.” You mumbled as Bob fucked into you. “You’re cum, I wanna taste your cum.” Bob had to refrain from filling you up then and there. The way you said it with such a needy little whine had him just about ready to burst. “Please—please Lieutenant.” There was also something about the way you’d call him Lieutenant from time to time that also got Bob all hot and bothered. It was different with you, you made his official rank into something that could be used as sexual gratification. “Let me taste you.” 

As Bob helped you get your feet down on the ground, Jake was in search of another bottle of tequila he could distribute shots with. Surprising, the house was empty—he thought he was the only one inside until he heard the unmistakable sounds of a man who was under the influence of sexual desire. 

“Who’s that?” Hake chuckled to himself as he raced up the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. As he reached the top of the stairs, Jake heard the unmistakable sound of running water through old pipes, mixing together with desperate moans. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, just like that darlin’ feels so good the way you're taking my dick down your throat right now.” Bob threw his head back as he held the back of your head with a splayed out palm. Helping to guide you up and down his shaft. “Gonna cum do that pretty throat of yours—“ Jake thought he was hearing things when he stopped outside the bathroom door. He swore he could hear Bob Floyd inside that bathroom. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Missed your cock so much— You giggled as you pumped your fist up and down Bob's shaft as he verged closer and closer to his high as you looked up at him. “Probably more than you missed me and my pretty pussy.” And that’s when Jake had to hold back the pride he felt for Baby Bob so it could make room for the rage that flooded his body in the moments that followed. 

“Shut it Seresin, keep suckin’ me off baby I’m so goddamn close.” Bob guided you head back to the tip of his cock that he tapped against your awaiting tongue. You took him down your throat with ease, gagging as he held you still with your nose brushing against his perfectly trimmed tamed pubic hair. “Ohhhh I’m there, I’m so there!” Bob groaned as he felt his orgasm pooling at the base of his shaft. “I’m gonna cum! Arghh—!” 

Jake felt a rage he’d never felt before bubble up inside his chest. He had never felt such a betrayal, Bob with his baby sister, with you. You were off limits to everyone—Jake always had his money secretly on Coyote since he’d known you the longest but Bob? The fucking WSO!? No. Not happening, or at least it won’t be happening again. 

“Oh god I’m cumming—shit shit shit shit!” Bob pulled his throbbing cock from your mouth as you gasped for much needed hair. He tipped you forehead back as you opened your mouth and welcomed the hot spurts of cum that coated your face. Washing away under the fall of the shower head. “Fucckkk—look at you baby, so pretty coated in all my cum.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“For the record?” Bob held you close to his chest as you stood before the fogged up mirror once again. Showered and wrapped back up in a fresh towel. “I’d keep secrets just to keep you.” He sighed as he kissed your temple, dressed and ready to join the party once again. Knowing that you wouldn’t be too far behind him. “I’ll see you soon?” 

“See you soon Bobby.” Just as Bob chuckled to himself and opened the bathroom door, an enraged Jake Seresin lunged at Robert Floyd, throwing a single punch that landed right against Bob's cheek that sent him down towards the ground with a thud. “BOB!” You gasped as you held your towel to your chest and raced to his aid as he groaned. “Jake! You ass hole! What the hell is your problem!” 

“Consider that a fucking warning Floyd.” Jake scoffed as he shook his throbbing hand. He’d been waiting outside the bathroom ever since he came upstairs. “Stay the hell away from my sister.” Jake spat as he walked away, leaving Bob a heap on the floor of the bathroom as you cradled him in your lap. Fuck. 

Yep. It was definitely going to be a cruel summer.

****************************

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd smut #top gun bob #bob top gun #hangman top gun #bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd fanfiction

[sebsxphia]

Imagine

Bob putting soft cock in his bunny so they can feel it grow and stretch them out

￫ a/n: oh goodness fucking hell yes please dear anon jesus christ i’m foaming at the fucking MOUTH rn 😵‍💫🤤

￫ c/w: cockwarming and p in v.

you’re pawing at his chest as you straddle him on the sofa, with your face nuzzled in between where his neck meets his shoulders and mouthing at his warm, bare chest.

“need you, bobby, please.” you softly whine.

he chuckles quietly before cooing at you. “i’ve got you, ‘m right here, bunny.”

one of his large hands is still cradling your head and letting his fingertips scratch your scalp. his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulls them down, freeing his soft cock. “it’s a little soft right now, bunny, but i’d never deny my sweetheart.”

the keenness of you rutting your hips along this thighs and hearing you needy whines, mixed with his hand giving it a couple of strokes, allows it to harden ever so slightly. it’s just enough so he can sit inside of you, but still soft enough that it doesn’t fill you whole.

you let out a huff of content breath at suddenly feeling so connected to bobby, before grinding your hips more. you’re still kissing and mouthing at his bare chest, with little groans leaving your lips.

“feels s’ nice, bobby. i like feeling you grow ‘n stretch me out.” you murmur against him.

bob lets out a silent, “oh.” before settling his large hands to your hips and moving them against his own. you whimper at each movement, being able to feel his tip nudge deeper inside of you and his shaft grow. you felt bob’s warm lips press against the shell of your ear and kiss you tenderly, with his voice soothing in your ear.

“does that feel nice, bunny? feelin’ my cock stretch out my sweet cunt? so good for me, letting me fill my sweet bunny whole.”

#💌you’ve got mail #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #robert floyd #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd smut #robert floyd imagine #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader #bob and his bunny <3

[ryebecca]

"A discount on your repairs? Bob Floyd doesn't do that for just anyone." 🔧 ✨ | (a mechanic!Bob AU for @withahappyrefrain and, frankly, for all of us)

#tgmedit #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #*myedit #*mymoodboard

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for @ohtobeleah and her TGM Valentines Day Special.

It is a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x female!reader imagine.

Happy Valentines Day! 💛✨

The song I chose is ‘Dandelions’ by Ruth B.

Warnings: this is racially and body type inclusive despite the moodpboard suggesting otherwise, your favorite flowers are now dandelions for the sake of this fic, this is only proofread by me :)

Bob Floyd had been your friend for years, best friend, really, and he was your favorite human being.

He was kind and gentle and oh so charming, which was one of the reasons why you couldn’t help but fall in love with him.

It had happened slowly and shortly after the first the first time you met, and the two of you became inseparable.

When Bob finished his bachelor’s degree he wanted to go on to Officer Candidate School in Pensacola and then train to become a pilot for the Navy.

You went to the same university because you didn’t want to be apart and you found a career that you could pursue while traveling a lot, should it be necessary.

It wasn’t that you planned to spend the rest of your life with Bob but if you were honest you couldn’t really think of your life without him.

While it might have been weird to others Bob and you always celebrated Valentines Day together, because you were the people who mattered most to you.

It had become a tradition that a nervous slightly pimple faced teenage Bob had brought to life, explaining that he wanted to celebrate your friendship.

Neither of you had ever really seriously dated someone else so you were always free to spend the day together.

Bob had graduated in December and planned to start OCS as soon as possible, which meant that he’d have to stay at Pensacola for at least twelve weeks.

That meant he’d be away from you for a while, and you already dreaded it.

When Bob picked you up for your annual Valentines Day date you did your best to look as pretty as possible, finding the perfect dress in Bob’s favorite color.

He brought you out in his truck that he had already loaded with everything necessary for the trip, not telling you where you were going.

Bob looked extraordinarily attractive, having put on a new shirt in your favorite color and having taking special care of his hair, combing it and trying to keep it from falling into messy locks over his forehead.

You were sure he had put on more cologne than usual when you hugged him and it immediately made you smile.

The drive to your unknown destination was short but despite listening to your favorite music Bob somehow seemed nervous, which also evoked the same feeling in you.

Bob had developed a habit of putting his hand on your thigh most of the drive, which always gave you comfort as well as a sense of happiness at his show of affection.

When Bob finally stopped the truck you were seemingly in the middle of the road, in a beautiful field that was blooming with your favorite flowers.

Bob sent you a giddy smile as he rushed outside to open your car door, another habit you had established throughout your friendship.

You were grateful for his kindness as he helped you climb down from your seat to stand next to him.

Bob gave you another grin before he turned to his truck bed, grabbing a basket as well as a backpack.

He held your hand as he pulled you through the field that was glowing with dandelions in different stages of bloom.

It was really beautiful, especially to be there with him.

When you stopped walking he put a blanket down for you to sit on, pulling you onto it to talk to you.

Until now you had shared a comfortable silence, because you knew he had something to share with you.

“I’m going to Pensacola in a few days. I just got the call from OCS,” he said softly and your heart fell, knowing that from then on he’d be busy beginning a new part of his life.

You weren’t entirely sure you were in it so you took a short breath, your entire body feeling as heavy as lead as you waited for him to continue.

His eyelids fluttered as he saw your reaction and he reached out to hold your hand.

“I don’t, I mean… I have never felt about anyone the way I do about you. I’ve heard of love that comes once in a lifetime. And I’m pretty sure that you’re that love of mine,” he went on to shock you to the core, and an amount of feelings you didn’t know you could feel rushed through your body.

While you were sad he was leaving a heat rushed through you at his confession, the relief of feeling the same but not feeling the strength to say it first as strong as the amount of oxytocin in your body.

You were speechless as you felt tears well up in your eyes and Bob smiled, reaching in his pocket to find a small box in it.

It was a beautiful light color and when he opened it you found a necklace with a delicate dandelion charm inside that made you actually shed one of the tears that were forming.

“I love you,” he said softly and you chuckled in disbelief, not quite knowing how to react.

“I…,” you choked on your own emotions but Bob chuckled, nodding lightly.

“I know you do,” he replied, his gentle smile all you needed in that moment.

Your fingers gripped his tighter and he mirrored your actions, giving you the security he knew you needed.

“I’d love to be with you, baby,” he added, and you couldn’t have nodded any faster.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @iangiemae @klmpun @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @tipsykeen @bespinnn @airedale17 @malindacath @aerangi @luckyladycreator2 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @atarmychick007 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @jewels98 @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby @tipsykeen

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#robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #robert floyd x y/n #robert floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #top gun bob #bob top gun #Leahsgalentinesdayspecial #Spotify

[sailor-aviator]

"Swallow it. All of it." & “Suck on it” with Bobby maybe? 👀 unless…

You better be over 18 if you read below the cut, yeah?

From this list here

"Baby, please."

You smirked down at your boyfriend with an amused look. He was usually so calm and collected, shy maybe, but so unlike the needy mess you currently had him in. You hadn't even really touched him yet.

Bob's head was thrown back against the pillows, sweat forming on his brow as you slowly stroked him, avoiding the angry red tip with every swipe up his hard length. His hips thrust up with every pass, desperately seeking more friction from you as he let out a high pitched whine.

"What is it, baby boy?" You cooed down at him, running your other hand up his chest as you gave a gentle squeeze to his tip. He let out a strangled groan, tossing his head to the side as he gazed up at you through lidded eyes, mouth parted and swollen from your earlier kisses. "Use your words, Bobby. I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me."

Bob let out another wanton gasp as you stroked over his tip once more, hips raising off the bed to try and chase your hand. You frowned down at him, nails raking down his chest in a warning.

"Suck on it," he whimpered, eyes pleading with you as you began to stroke him a little harder. "Please, honey. Please."

You hummed, letting go of him. He whined out, reaching out a hand to you, but you smiled up at him softly as you eased your way down in between his thighs. You took his length back in your hand, continuing your slow torture of him as you gazed up at him through your lashes.

"I think you can do better than that, Bobby," you murmured. "You're so hard, baby, it must really hurt. Want you to beg for me, sweet boy. Tell me how much you want to cum."

"Wanna cum so fucking bad, baby," he gasped, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he stared down at you. "I'm so hard baby, please. Don't wanna cum in your hand. Want you to make me feel so good with that sweet little mouth of yours, please."

"Well," you smirked. "Since you asked so nicely."

You placed a soft kiss to the tip of his cock before slowly taking it into your mouth. Bob let out a strangled moan above you, hands flying down to fist in your hair as you started bobbing up and down on his length. With each pass, you were able to take more of him down your throat, and soon your nose was brushing up against the curls that surrounded his base. You lifted one of your hands from his thigh to massage his balls, earning a broken cry from the man before you.

"I'm not gonna last long, sweetheart," he moaned breathlessly, hips starting to thrust up as you gagged on his length. You loved when Bob got like this. So debauched and needy that he lost control and the usual shyness that surrounded him was long forgotten. You gagged around him as he gave a particularly hard thrust into your mouth, earning another loud groan from him.

"Fuck, baby! I'm not gonna last long. Love how hot and wet you feel around me. Feels like you're sucking the soul right out of me."

You smirked around him, giving a particularly hard suck that had his thighs quivering beneath you.

"FUCK!" He shouted, throwing his head back against the pillows before leaning up to look down at where his cock disappeared down your throat. He could see the slight bulge where his length ended as you continued to gulp him down like he was the air you needed to breath.

"Bet you're so fucking wet, huh, honey?" He groaned, thrusts getting harder the closer he got. "Haven't even touched you and I bet you're already dripping, yeah? I know how needy you get when you're chokin' on my cock like this. Know you could come just from this. Fuck, it feels so good. You feel so fucking good with your lips wrapped around me, honey."

You could feel yourself growing wetter at his words. You knew you had to be dripping by this point, but you were so focused on his pleasure that you paid little mind to your own. Bob's breaths were coming out in a combination of heady groans and desperate gasps as he chased his high.

"Oh fuck, I'm close. I can feel it, baby. It's comin', and it's all gonna be for you. Can feel your throat gripping me so tight, so fucking tight - JESUS. Oh shit, yes. Keep sucking me just like that, baby. JUST. LIKE. THAT. SHIT."

You felt him twitch, and red hot spurts of cum shot down your throat. You eagerly swallowed them down, and Bob's hands stroked through your hair as he came down from his high.

"That's it, baby," he cooed breathlessly, stroking his thumb over your cheek to collect the tears that had escaped the corners of your eyes as you continued to work your mouth up and down his length. "Swallow it. All of it. That's my good girl."

You continued to suckle on him as the last remnants of his orgasm washed over him, his hips twitching from the slight overstimulation as you made sure to swallow every last drop.

Slowly, you pulled up off of him with a quiet pop. Bob's thumb reached down to brush the corner of your lip, wiping away some of the spend that had leaked from your mouth. He offered it to you, and you latched onto it obediently, twirling your tongue around the digit as you suckled. Bob let out a shuddering breath as he pulled his thumb back. He reached down to pull you up, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. He licked languidly into your mouth, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

You pulled away, smiling hazily at him. He returned your smile, resting his forehead against yours as he chuckled.

"How's about you lay back and I return the favor. What do you say, pretty girl?"

#robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert floyd fic #robert floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd smut #robert bob floyd x you #bob top gun #top gun bob

[laracrofted]

❝ he's not our hero. he's a silent guardian, a watchful protector. a dark knight.

#i... have a plot for a fic... #please come discuss this au with me #but if you steal it... i will be annoyed 🤠 #robert bob floyd #batman!bob #fic: bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #ames makes things

[withahappyrefrain]

Cobalt Eyes and Sweet Smiles

In which a certain shy, quiet WSO catches your attention one night.

When your pilot friend offered to bring you to the Hard Deck as a guest, you knew their intentions instantly. The other pilots would notice you, notice how you weren't one of them, and try hitting you up.

"Maybe you'll actually meet someone to take home," they said.

You rolled your eyes and went along with it, tired of hearing about how "we gotta find you someone."

It was nice, being offered one's spot at the pool table, being asked if you wanted to play darts or needed a drink. The pilots were quite nice to look at.

But one in particular stood out to you.

He had tucked himself away in the corner of the bar, his cobalt eyes able to observe the room without being noticed.

You noticed him right away. How he tried to weave his long, lean body through the crowd so he didn't bump into anyone. How instead of a beer, he was carrying water and a cup of peanuts. How despite that his shoulders were hunched in an effort to make himself smaller, his biceps strained against the khaki material of his uniform.

You recognized the pins that adorned his uniform. He was a Lieutenant, and a pretty decorated one at that. Clearly that hadn't given him an overblown ego, otherwise he would have spoken to you by now.

He was attractive and you could tell that he didn't realize it. You knew the glasses he wore had been given to him by the navy and were what they referred to as "birth control glasses". But the large wired frames added to his charm.

You couldn't help but stare at him. A smile broke out onto your face when he looked up from brushing the crumbs off his pants, those stunningly blue eyes locking with yours.

His thin lips parted and you could see the realization that you were staring at him in his eyes. You winked, hoping it would wash away any potential doubts he had.

A red flush rose from his neck to his cheeks as he looked away, focusing on the crumbs that were still on top of his pants.

It was adorable.

"Who's that?" You asked the too cocky for his own good pilot who had been trying to strike up a conversation with you since you walked in. Hangover? Hangnail?

"Oh, that's just Bob," he scoffed, "Or as I call him, Baby on Board."

The ice cold glare you gave him stopped his laughs, "He uh, he doesn't say much."

You didn't mind quiet. In fact, you tend to like the quiet ones more as you got older. Perhaps it was because they seemed to balance you out.

Perhaps it was because you learned that it was always the quiet ones who knew how to make you feel the best.

"Who's the girl?" You asked, motioning to the dark haired woman who had sat down next to him. You watched her jerk her head towards you, her eyes briefly making contact with yours. They looked like friends, but you wanted to make sure.

"Oh, that's Phoenix. He's her back seater. So, do you want to watch me play darts?"

"No," was all you said before walking over to Bob.

—--------------------

"Go talk to her," Phoenix whispered, "She's been staring at you all night."

"Probably thinks I'm some cool, elusive guy. Best to not break the illusion," Bob responded before taking a sip of his water.

Phoenix wasn't sure what was so 'elusive' about eating peanuts at a bar, but her friend needed a confidence boost, not a confidence downer.

"You're a catch, and she's interested. She couldn't take her eyes off of you while Rooster sang," She pointed out.

Bob just shrugged as he shook his head.

You were absolutely beautiful. You lit up a room with one smile. From the way the corners of your eyes crinkle to how your nose scrunches up, to the way your smile encapsulates your whole face. Your voice was sweet, loud but not shrill.

You were a dream. And dreams didn't tend to go for quiet wallflowers like him. He learned this years ago and had accepted it. It made him less likely to get his heart broken.

Though he still felt his heart twinge when Hangman came up to you. Bob didn't blame the man, he was just….jealous, as ridiculous as that sounded. Jealous that he couldn't just waltz up and start a conversation.

He had tried in the past and ended up embarrassing himself more than getting someone's number. It was easier to hang in the corner, even if it made his chances of finding someone lower. It was better than getting his hopes dashed.

Not that Bob enjoyed being alone. Honestly, he had hoped that by now, he would have settled down and startef a family. When asked what he wanted to be as a kid, his response was "a dad".

Life just hadn't worked out that way and it was best not to dwell on it. As much as he wished, life wasn't some romantic comedy where his future wife would just waltz into a room and a love song would play while he and her locked eyes for the first time.

Though 'Pretty Woman' was playing when you walked into the Hard Deck.

Phoenix's elbow jabbing his chest broke Bob out of his thoughts.

"Looks like I don't have to convince you to go talk to her," was all she said before getting up to walk away.

Bob was quite confused, until he looked directly ahead.

Oh no.

You were walking straight towards him.

Bob knew he should get up and head straight to the bathroom. Or go to the bar. Something so you wouldn't talk to him and discover he was quiet not because he was some cool figure but because he never fucking knew what to say.

But his legs were frozen in place. All he could do was ensure that he had brushed all the crumbs from the peanuts off his pants.

"Hi! Is this seat taken?" You asked. Bob was now thankful he was still sitting, because your melodic voice paired with that sweet smile would have made him fall to his knees.

It took Bob a few moments to realize that he needed to actually give you a response. You didn't seem to mind, which was surprising. He was used to folks getting huffy, expecting a quick response from him.

Instead, you just gave him that beautiful smile.

"No! U-uh, no, i-its free, ma'am," he managed to get out.

"Glad to know," was all you said before you sat yourself on one of his thighs. You slung an arm around his shoulders, your fingers reaching up the nape of his neck towards his sandy brown locks.

Oh sweet Jesus.

You couldn't help but smirk as you watch his face process what was happening and then proceed to short circuit. He clearly wasn't used to this type of attention, which was an absolute shame.

"Uh…um t-there's a s-spot uh o-over there," He stuttered, avoiding your eyes.

"I know," you leaned in, your breath hot in his ear, "I like this seat better."

Did he and Phoenix actually eject out of their plane in time or did he die that day and was now in heaven?

Maybe she had mistaken him for someone else. Bob kept thinking of scenarios that would explain why you were doing this, besides you actually being interested in him, because someone like you was never interested in someone like him.

For a moment, you worried that you may have been too much. It looked like he was malfunctioning at your attention.

But then you felt a strong arm wrap itself around your waist, securing you in place.

"I-I'm uh…I'm Bob." God, he was so cute. His cheeks had what seemed to be a permanent flush to them.

You giggled as you told him your name, which caused the corners of his mouth to turn upwards.

"It's nice to meet you Bob," your fingers twirled around his sun kissed locks.

"It's n-nice to meet you t-too, ma'am," He mumbled. He honestly didn't know what to do. He was usually the one pretty girls went up to to ask about the relationship status of his other pilots.

"You're so nice, but you don't need to call me ma'am," you giggled.

Somehow, his face turned an even brighter shade of red as he mumbled an apology.

"It's okay, it's quite sweet. And hot, to be honest," you admitted.

Oh.

Bob looked up, his eyes making contact with yours for the first time since you sat on his lap.

Hot was not a word used to describe him. Cute, nice, nerdy, okay, were the adjectives he was used to hearing. Not hot.

"R-really?" His voice was still shaky, though it was the most confident he sounded since he began talking to you.

"Yeah," you giggled, straightening his collar, "So is Bob your call sign or your actual name? I can't tell with some of these."

"Well, my full name is Robert but my call sign is Bob," he found himself becoming more relaxed, despite having to remind himself not to look at your chest that was at eye level.

"Does Bob stand for something?" You asked, genuinely wanting to learn more about him.

He shrugged, "It's a long story." Surely you didn't want to hear him talk, did you?

"Have anything to do with your commendation medals?" You asked. He looked shocked at your knowledge. For a brief moment you were almost offended until you remembered that he honestly thought you were just a civilian.

"Both my dads are in the Navy. I know what a lot of the medals mean. It's also how I know this guy," you motioned to the man clad in a Hawaiian shirt who was leading the crowd through another Jerry Lewis sing-along.

"Does he know anything other than Jerry Lewis?" Bob asked out loud.

"If he's feeling extra deep, he'll play Clocks by Coldplay. Other than that…no, he doesn't."

The two of you exchanged a look before laughing. He had the sweetest laugh you had ever heard.

You rested your head on one of his broad shoulders. He was sitting up a little straighter. The tension in his body had faded. Not all the way, but a bit.

You liked it. You wanted to see more of it, more of him.

Though Bob didn't really suit him. Neither did Robert.

"Can I call you Robby?"

"You can call me whatever you want." Oh, so he could be smooth.

You grinned, "Whatever I want? That's quite open. My Pa always said to never take something open-ended until you made sure there weren't any strings attached."

He shrugged, a small smirk slowly appearing on his handsome face, "Well, I guess there is something I'd want in exchange."

You quirked an eyebrow, "And what would that be, Robby?"

Here goes nothing.

"You can call me whatever you want, as long as I can call you for dinner?" Oh God, that was so cheesy. What was he thinking? Bob didn't blame you if you got up and left right then and-

A pair of soft lips pressed against his cheek, the sweet smell of lavender flooding his nostrils.

Oh your lips were like heaven.

"I'd love that Robby. I'd also love to call you for breakfast," you cooed in his ear.

His large hand gripped the fabric of your dress. You wondered if he could feel your thighs clenching. Not that you didn't want him to know you found him extremely attractive. Quite the opposite in fact.

"Y-you smell really nice," was all he could get out. His head felt fuzzy. You were overwhelming in the best way possible.

"I was just gonna say the same about you," you smiled as the scent of sage filled your senses. You then noticed that his glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose. With zero hesitation, you gently pushed them back up.

Bob was thinking of every possible unattractive thing and scenario to kill the growing erection he had. Your fingers that were tracing circles over his biceps weren't helping.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

"W-would uh, would you want to get out of here?"

Realization set in at what he just said. Fuck. The last thing this angel wanted was to be taken back to base housing. The last thing he needed was Mickey walking in on him trying to flirt too. Also, when did she ever indicate she wanted to go back to a bedroom? She didn't. Yeah, she mentioned breakfast but maybe she was just a big fan of brunch. Brunch was pretty great. You could order waffles at two in the afternoon and no one bats an eye. Had he gone too far? He had gone too far.

Of course a beautiful girl would show interest in him only for him to fuck it up.

"We, we could go to another place! I-I, uh, I know this other bar, it's much quieter or there's a late night coffee shop we could go to, or-"

"My apartment is a fifteen minute drive, and I drove here." You told him.

"O-oh. O-okay." Bob was still worried. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel pressured to do anything. He was truly more than content to just talk to you all night, maybe kiss you on the cheek if he was lucky. If you allowed it.

"I…..I have a good collection of board games if you're interested," you said, hoping it would alleviate his clearly displayed nerves.

"I-I just wanna, uh, wanna talk to ya," he admitted, a Midwestern drawl lacing his voice.

"Where you from Robby?" You asked, pressing your forehead against his. You could hear him gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing.

God, you wanted nothing more than to mark up his neck.

"M-Montana. W-why?"

"I could listen to your voice all day," you sighed, brushing your nose against his. It was obvious it took all his strength to not look away from you, to flash a weak smile instead.

"Really?" Normally, his accent wasn't something folks enjoyed hearing. After years in the navy, he learned how to make himself sound neutral.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. I like your voice. And you." That rose tint had made itself a home on his cheeks, not that you minded. It was honestly the cutest thing.

"Really?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" You asked. It was almost sad that he was genuinely shocked by this.

He shook his head, "I-it's just uh, usually, uh, I'm uh, not the one folks um, typically go for."

"Well, those folks are idiots," you responded, "you have a lot to offer: smart, sweet, kind, funny. Extremely handsome to boot."

You were being genuine. Bob couldn't help but smile, practically beaming.

"C-can I kiss you?" He found himself asking. Where that bravery came from, he wasn't sure.

He was genuine, something you didn't see often, particularly from those in the navy. Your fathers always had warned you of such, hence their 'no pilot' rule.

They never told you about what to do when you found a sweet, honest, good hearted man in the navy.

It probably helped that he wasn't technically a pilot.

You nodded your head quickly, not wanting to doubt for one moment, "Was beginning to worry that you'd never ask."

He was a good kisser. His large hands cupped your jaw and most of your neck. He was gentle when he titled your head down, moving his lips against yours.

You could kiss him for hours. When you broke away for air, his face was still red, though a proud smile was now on his face.

"You gonna take me home Robby?" You asked before placing a gentle kiss on his jawline.

"I-I don't know what your car looks like," his voice was now low, vibrating into your shoulder, a stark contrast to the adorable observation he was making.

You kissed his cheek again, the corner of your lips brushing against his, "you're really fucking cute Robby."

Bob knew in that moment he would follow you to the ends of the Earth.

"Y-you're um, you're one t-to talk." It sounded much smoother in his head. And yet, you didn't mind the stuttering or that he was still nervous despite being brave enough to ask if he could kiss you.

You liked him, just the way he was.

It was a nice change. A really nice change.

"Why don't we get out of here?" You hopped off his lap, extending a hand out to him.

Bob thanked whatever higher being was up there for throwing him a bone before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. Granted, you had made your interest in him well known, so was there really a point to being so nervous?

He grabbed your hand, following you out of the bar. As you two left, you flashed a wink to your friend Bradley, who simply gave you a thumbs up, signaling his approval.

"Did you plan that?" Phoenix asked as she watched you and Bob walk out the door.

"Not planned, more like hoped it would work out that way," Bradley responded, smiling.

#my writing #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #lewis pullman

[planetpiastri]

💝 Bob please and 11. "their contact name being formatted differently than everyone else" from the are we friends, or more? prompt list

this trope is my kryptonite, hope u enjoy anon x | [wc - 0.7k] | join my prompt party!

“Why do we even bother? He’s obviously not coming,” said Hangman indifferently, leaning down to line up his pool shot.

“Give him a minute,” Phoenix snapped from her place at your shoulder, her phone held to her ear and currently ringing for Bob. “He said he’d be here. It’s weird for him to just…not show up.”

“Maybe he got tired of losing at pool,” said Hangman with a shit-eating grin, straightening up satisfactorily as he pocketed two balls.

“He beat me last time,” Fanboy pointed out.

“That’s not a competition,” Hangman retorted.

“He’ll be here,” interjected Rooster, taking a sip of his beer. “When’s the last time he didn’t show up to one of these? Calm down.”

“But when’s the last time Bob’s been late?” Phoenix shot back before groaning and pulling her phone away from her ear. She turned to look at you with a pleading expression. “Back me up here. This is weird, right?”

You suddenly realized everyone was staring at you expectantly. The buzzed, warm atmosphere of the Hard Deck suddenly felt a bit stifling. Usually you loved the teasing jibes and snarky retorts traded between the aviators over a few games of pool and a few more beers, but something about tonight felt…off.

Probably for the exact reason everyone was discussing at the moment.

“It is weird for him to flake,” you ceded reluctantly. “He usually at least gives us a text if he knows he’s not gonna make it.”

“Okay, so call him, then,” said Hangman, sounding exasperated. “Make sure he’s not dead.” He nudged Coyote. “It’s your shot. Would you go?”

“We have been calling him, dickhead,” snapped Phoenix. “He’s not picking up.”

“No, make the other one call him,” said Hangman, pointing at you with his cue as if you weren’t right there. “His favorite.”

Your cheeks burned with the knowledge that everyone else had picked up on you and Bob’s close bond. “I am not—”

“Please,” said Hangman arrogantly. “We are not in middle school. Just own it. We’ve all seen the little glances and inside jokes.”

Your mouth flapped open and shut uselessly. The pool game had been forgotten. Everyone was watching you with amused expressions. You stuttered out, “I do that with Phoenix, too!”

Hangman squinted at you disbelievingly before turning back to the game, like you weren’t even worth the effort of arguing with. That more than anything else rubbed you the wrong way.

“Okay, fine,” you said. “I will call him. And he won’t pick up, just like he didn’t pick up when Phoenix and Fanboy called, and we can put this to bed.”

You expected everyone to laugh at you, or shake their heads and go back to their other activities. What you didn’t expect was for everyone—Hangman included—to cluster around you and stare at your screen as you pulled out your phone.

You scrolled through your contacts quickly, wanting to just get it over with, but as you hovered your finger over Bob’s contact to call, Payback said, “Hang on—”

Right on cue, Hangman swiped your phone out of your hand and held it above your head.

“Give it back!” you cried, embarrassment flooding your body. “Seriously? You’re the one who just said we aren’t in middle school!”

“‘B. Bradshaw,’” Hangman read aloud, holding you at bay with his free hand. He was beaming. “‘J. Machado—J. Seresin—N. Trace—M. Garcia—R. Fitch.’ But would you look at this?” He scrolled back up. “‘Bobby.’ With two—count ‘em, two—emojis.”

“Stop it!” you yelped, more than mortified.

“Which emojis?” called Fanboy, who was craning to try and see.

“The nerd with glasses face and a white heart,” said Payback. “Remind me, what does the white heart mean?”

“Marriage, definitely,” said Rooster with a teasing smirk.

“You guys are children,” you yelled, hoping desperately that you looked more confident than you felt. You shot Rooster a frustrated look. “Could you help me, please?”

It was Coyote who swiped your phone out of Hangman’s hand, taking a moment to examine the proof for himself before handing it back to you. You snatched it quickly, sure that everyone could see just how flustered you were. They all watched you with amused, knowing expressions, waiting for you to defend yourself.

But then your phone buzzed in your hand, and everyone looked down.

Incoming call from: Bobby 🤓🤍

Someone snickered. You fought to maintain your dignity and straightened your posture, saying, “Excuse me, I have a call. I’m going to take this outside.”

Everyone whooped and laughed as you pushed in between Fanboy and Phoenix and started to walk towards the back deck. With shaking fingers, you accepted the call. 

“Hi, Bobby. I think they know.”

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd blurb #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd blurb #vinny's valentine's prompt party #vinny fics

[sebsxphia]

bob is such a pleasure!dom and you’re such a good girl for him !! bob hears Jake’s brat tamer stories all the time and Bobby just thinks to himself “my bunny would never”. because early on in your relationship, you tested bobs limits, and he did punish you for the way you acted, he punished you hard. So when Bobby asked you to”you promise you’ll stay good for daddy, bun’?”, you did hesitate to agree 😚

omgggg yes yes yes dear anon! 🤭😵‍💫

i love mean dom bob, but pleasure dom bob holds such a special place in my heart. i love being a brat more than anything, but i also love and get so soft (and horny) for thinking about being such a good girl for bobby! his little bunny who never acts up, compliantly does anything he asks and who gets so many rewards! i definitely think he’s a mix of both types of doms and you know when you’re getting mean dom bob, but of course like you say dear anon, once you experienced his hard punishment, you made sure you would always be such a good girl for him.

you were clinging to his leg and sobbing, as he made you ride his shoe with your spanked and puffy pussy. he gripped your chin tightly and forced you to look at him with your glassy eyes. “you promise you’ll stay good for daddy, bun’?”

with a broken sob, you spluttered out, “y—yes, daddy! p—promise! i’ll be y’ good girl, i’ll be y’ bestest girl. i’ll n—never misbehave ‘gain. p—please let me come with y’ f—fingers, d—daddy!”

bob knows that his bunny would never act up on him again because of that experience, and because he knows you’re just such a good girl for him.

oh how i’d love to be his good girl! 🥰 thank you so much for this delicious thot my dear anon! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #robert bob floyd #sebs masterlist #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd smut #robert floyd smut #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd drabble #bob floyd drabble #robert floyd drabble

[ryebecca]

"Look, Anita! Puppies everywhere!" 🐶 🐾 ✨ | (a 101 Dalmatians!Bob AU because you can't tell me that Bob Floyd isn't the most Roger-coded of all time - thanks to @withahappyrefrain and @bobfloydsbabe for the idea!)

#i have an idea for aladdin too so this may very well turn into a disney series of sorts #stay tuned! #tgmedit #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd imagine #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #*myedit #*mymoodboard

[foreverrandomwritings]

Honey, Honey

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

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Afab!Reader

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

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

Masterlist M's Taste of Twenty-Five Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#m's taste of twenty-five event #m's party #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd one shot #bob floyd fluff #bob Floyd smut #fluff #smut #top gun maverick smut #Robert Bob Floyd smut #Robert Bob Floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #i need it

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

The Cute One With the Glasses

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Description: When you have to take the little girl you look after to the hospital, you're never expecting to find someone who you'd definitely like to see again. Little do you know that he wants to see you just as much as you do him.

Themes: Hospitals, Toddlers, Injured Toddlers, Mentioned Injuries, Broken Bones

Word Count: 3400

A/N: Hiya, everyone! I've been working on this idea off and on for a couple of months and finally finished it! I don't know why, but I've been on a real Bob kick recently. So have this ridiculously fluffy, cute fic! Thanks to @sarahsmi13s who read over this fic for me and caught one huge plot hole!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

You can feel the panic clawing at you, sinking wickedly sharp claws into your lungs as you force yourself to put one step in front of the other. Your only other focus as you walk is to keep from jostling the small, slight form in your arms.

“You're going to be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” You mutter the words with each step you take, a constant litany that soothes your frenzied mind and valiantly tries to push back the panic. But it doesn’t work. You feel like you're drowning as you scribble out her name in the emergency room, Ivy Seresin, in your looping, jagged handwriting. Your charge is valiant as she grits her teeth, big green eyes glistening with tears as you carefully settle her into your lap after filling out the papers. Her dad is going to murder you for this. When he gets out of his jet and can hear the frantic voicemails you left him, he’s going to march down to the base hospital and fire you.

After all, what kind of babysitter are you? You’d walked into the house for only a couple of minutes to answer the phone. You had rushed back out to the shrieks and squeals of a little girl in pain, lying stunned under the colossal backyard playset her dad built for her when she could walk. You’d bundled her into the car the minute you realized, your mind racing at a million miles per hour while doing your best not to jostle her arm. She sobs wearily into your chest, her soft blonde hair mussed and tangled.

“Miss Seresin?” You startle out of your thoughts, the nurse’s voice pulling you from where you’d been cuddling Ivy. “The doctor will see you now.”

“C’mon, pretty girl,” Your voice is wobbly as you carefully stand up with Ivy in your arms. “The doctor’s going to make you feel much better, and I bet your daddy will be right here before the doctor’s done looking at your arm!”

You feel strung tight, close to tears, even though you’re not hurt at all. Big drops spill from Ivy’s eyes as you set her down on the hospital bed, her small form looking even smaller when the bed is so much larger than she is. It’s made worse when she won’t let you go, either. Her uninjured hand is fisted securely in your soft t-shirt. This is the stalemate the nurse sees when she walks in. She’s a beautiful brunette with a pert upturned nose and a sweet smile on her face. 

“Hello. I’m here to see a Miss Ivy Seresin?” Her voice is as musical as you expect it to be. “And that must be this pretty little girl here?” 

To your surprise, Ivy nods just once before burying her face into your side. Ivy’s not what you’d call shy. Like her father, she’s the life of the party, bold as brass and far more charming. Normally, she’d have leapt at the chance to show someone just how sweet she is.

“Ivy, it’s alright,” you try to wheedle with the toddler who rules your every waking moment. “The nice nurse is just trying to look at your booboo.”

“Yeah!” You smile when the nurse jumps in. “I’m Nurse Willis, and your momma is perfectly right. I just want you to tell me where the booboo hurts!”

Ivy sniffles before finally revealing her little tear-streaked face. Her voice is petulant as she says, “This isn’t my momma. This is Lia. She’s my, uh….”  

Ivy’s little face scrunches up in thought, “my baby-keeper?”

“I see…” You shrug at the laughter in the nurse’s voice. You’d normally be giggling, too, if you weren’t so worried about your charge. “Well, then. It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Miss Ivy and Miss Lia.”

“Now then, Miss Ivy. Can I please take a look at your arm?” The little girl seems to be thinking, but then you see an all too familiar stubborn mood set in like storm clouds.

“No!” The explosion of sound is too loud and quite shrill, and you’re sure half the Emergency Department hears it. “I’m not letting you touch me until I see my daddy!”

“Honey,” You sink onto the bed next to Ivy and try to convince her. “Your daddy had to fly in his jet today. I called him when we were on our way to the hospital, remember?”

But Ivy just glowers in response. 

“His secretary, Josie, picked up the phone. She promised she’d tell your Daddy what happened.”

When the glowering turns into more of those heart-wrenching sobs, you wince and pull out your phone again. You only see the glowing numbers telling you the time - no messages or voicemails. In all honesty, you don’t see a thing from her dad.

“Hey, Ivy.” You soothe, letting the little girl crawl into your lap, uncaring of how much mud is on her shoes as they compact painfully with your shins. Her shoulders shake as she wets your t-shirt with tears and snot. You carefully rub your hand up and down her back in soothing, gentle motions. “Your daddy will be here as soon as he sees my messages! I promise. He’s probably on the way to the hospital right now!”

But your gentle encouragements don’t seem to work. Soon enough, Ivy’s tears stall. But she still doesn’t trust the friendly Nurse as she tries to take her vitals. That’s the scene that the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walks into. Ivy’s standing on the hospital bed, stomping her favorite patent leather shoes into the paper liner on the bed, streaking mud on the pristine white. Nurse Willis is sitting on a stool with a clipboard, stifling giggles behind her hand. You, on the other hand, are standing at the side of the bed with a hand on Ivy’s back to make sure she doesn’t fall. Your hair is escaping your braid, your t-shirt is irreparably stained with yogurt from Ivy’s mid-morning snack from before the accident, and you’re wearing mismatched socks and sandals.

The doctor, on the other hand, is resplendent in a khaki uniform, with his dark hair coiffed off of his forehead and a shy smile on his face. He’s wearing big glasses on thin silver frames, and if you didn’t find him incredibly handsome before, you do now. But your reaction to the handsome doctor has nothing on Ivy’s. She gasps, squeals, and practically leaps out of bed before launching herself into his arms.

“Uncle Bob!” Now you’re sure you have whiplash. It’s night and day: Ivy’s reaction to the nurse versus her reaction to the Doctor.

“Hi, my Ivy Girl!” His voice is gruff and sweet as he gathers Ivy up, careful to avoid jostling her arm.

“Where’s my daddy?” You can practically hear the pout in her voice.

“He’s on his way, I promise he is.” As he eases into the room and sets Ivy down on the bed, it hurts a little at how he seems able to calm the little girl down with just a few words. When Nurse Willis can finally start taking Ivy’s vitals, you slump into the hard-backed plastic chair with a sigh of relief.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor.” Your voice is quiet as Ivy finally begins to behave for the nurse.

“Oh,” He’s blushing as he takes the other plastic chair. “I’m not a doctor.”

He clears his throat a little as the flush rises. “I work with Jake, uh, Captain Seresin.”

“When Josie came by with your message for him, I got on comms and told him I’d come to the hospital to make sure Ivy was alright.”

His voice is soft and musical, and despite yourself, you find yourself leaning in closer to him, needing to hear more. His cheeks go pink under your gaze, eyes darting between you and Ivy. He follows behind you and Ivy as the Doctor leads her to get X-rays done. Nurse Willis follows you as well, flirting with Bob with everything she’s worth. 

“Thank you for coming down here like this.” Your voice is quiet as you sit once again in the hard plastic chairs in the ER.

His lips purse like he’s going to say something, and you’re hanging on his every word. Then Ivy is squealing, and the doctor’s trying to get her to sit back down, and it’s chaos. The source of that chaos? The one and only Captain Jake Seresin, Ivy’s favorite person in the whole wild world. Your charge is crying again, big crocodile tears dripping down her cheeks as she plays up her pain with big green eyes and pink cheeks.

In all the commotion, you lose your chance to talk to Bob again. Once Ivy is down for the night, what feels like hours and many sparkly stickers on her little cast later, you march your way down into the bright, airy Seresin kitchen. It feels like you’re marching to the gallows. Nannying a four-year-old girl was not in your five-year plan when you graduated with your Master’s degree. Go figure a degree in Ancient History hasn’t gotten you many marketable skills. 

A friend of your parents had recommended you to Ivy and her dad. It’s a pretty sweet deal, honestly. Room and Board, a generous salary, and all the time in the world to yourself when Ivy’s with her dad. The only caveat was how when Ivy wanted you, boy did she really want you. At times, you called her your little dictator in a toddler’s body because sometimes the only way to stave off a meltdown was to give her what she wanted, within reason. 

Jake takes one look at you and pushes one of the mugs he’s holding into your hands. “Why do you look so sad, kiddo?”

“I’m so sorry, Captain Seresin.” The apologies spill out of your mouth like an unending fountain. 

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, kid.” He sighs as he slumps into his chair. The stress of the day seems to exude from his pores as his fingers tap on the mug.

“Ivy’s strong. You did everything right. You made sure she was safe, that she wasn’t in too much pain, and you got her the medical care she needed.”

Something is haunting in his eyes as he stares down into his mug. “I’m glad you were there. It scared the shit out of me when Josie told me to book it to the hospital. When she said it was Ivy, my mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. A broken arm is nothing in comparison to everything that went through my mind.”

You blink and push your chair out with a squeal, pulling the Cheetos from their hiding place in cupboards Ivy can’t reach. It sounds like what the Captain and you both need is some comfort junk food. Coupled with Jake Seresin’s Famous Hot Chocolate™, you’re sure to be comforted.

“I’m still sorry, Captain Seresin.”

“Seriously, kid. I’ve told you to call me Jake probably a hundred times in the past year. When are you finally going to listen to me?”

“Maybe one more time will do it?” Your voice is cheeky as you plunk the bowl of Cheetos on the table equidistant between the Captain and you.

“Fuck, the Cheetos? Seriously?” Jake drags his hand down his face. You’re never going to tell him that you only call him Captain because it pisses him off. You’ve been thinking of him by his name since practically the day you met him and Ivy both. “You know there will be hell to pay if Ivy comes down here looking for one of us and sees these.”

“She’s knocked out after a long, painful day. Her stomach is full of Cheese Pizza and the good painkillers. Baby Girl will be just fine!”

He snorts, picking through the crunchy fried corn sticks for one that’s perfectly coated in artificial cheese dust. 

“So….” His voice makes shivers slide down his spine. It should be illegal for a man to look as devious as he does holding a Cheeto. “I saw how you were looking at our dear old Baby on Board at the hospital, kid.”

“When are you going to make the moves on him?”

“Ummm….” You roll your eyes at him. “How about never?”

“Why never?” He crunches down on the treat while ignoring how neon-orange powder sheds across the pristine kitchen table you’re both sitting at. 

“Because he’s gorgeous. And sweet. And kind.” You’re whining as you sip on your hot chocolate, quiet because Ivy wakes up even if the dog walks past her door with clanking tags. “He’s so far out of my league it isn’t even funny.”

“Did you see how that nurse was batting her eyelashes at him?”

“So?” Jake’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. “You were batting your eyelashes too, kid. And Bob looked absolutely besotted with you. Even when you were wearing socks and sandals.”

“Tell you what. I’ll pay for your first date with Bob if you write him a flirty little note and make him some cookies.”

“Only if I make him cookies?”

“No, if you make him cookies and ask him out on a date. If he says yes, I will pay for your date.”

“What if he says no?”

“I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“Even one of those ridiculously overpriced mud pack spa days with Nix?”

“Fuck,” He covers his eyes with his hand, uncaring of his orange-coated fingers. “You’ve got a deal, kid. I don’t know why I encouraged your friendship with our neighborhood firebird, but you’ve got a deal.”

Captain Jake Seresin is known for being cheerful on base. He's never without a grin and toothpick. The day after he rushes off because his daughter is in the hospital, he comes in holding a pair of Tupperware containers in his hands, whistling on his way to his office. The Top Gun class scurries out of his way when they see him coming. When Captain Seresin is smiling it means they’re in for rough skies and he’s likely to get tone on each of their jets at least twice. The Daggers aren’t quite so worried. Over the years since the Uranium Mission they’ve seen the changes in their once rash, reckless friend. Ivy was a big instrument for that change. So was the nanny he’d hired two weeks after he found out about his daughter.

In the two years since then, Jake Seresin’s life has been ruled by his two girls, his daughter and the woman he considers a little sister. He’s notoriously overprotective of them both. He’s still teasing and abrasive, but it’s softened. Thankfully, he hasn’t treated Natasha any different than before while at work. There’s a bit more respect in his tone, but that’s about it. And she trusts him now, trusts him with her life in a way she never did before. Right now, though, Jake Seresin is focusing the brunt of his attention on her WSO. 

Bob’s changed a lot over the years too. He’s still quiet and thoughtful, the type to have a hundred thoughts hidden behind his stormy blue eyes even as he says one. Now he’s bolder, and more confident. He holds his own amongst the personalities of the Dagger squad. She knows he considers Jake a friend now. Little Ivy Seresin adores him too, chattering on and on about her Uncle Bob any and every chance she gets. 

All this to say, Nat knows her WSO pretty well. He’d do anything for his friends, which is why he’d run to see if Ivy was alright the day before when she was in the hospital and Jake was flying. It’s his face when he came back which was new. He’d looked starstruck, far away. There was a persistent flush to his cheeks and Nat wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t want to know why. Obviously Seresin’s got a very clear idea for what’s bothering her unusually taciturn WSO. The two men chat for a little bit, Jake growing more and more animated and cheerful as Bob flushes with big eyes behind his BCGs.

The conversation culminates in Jake handing Bob one of the Tupperware containers. There’s a page on top of the box. Even from halfway across the room, Nat can see the way his cheeks flush even more when he opens the paper and reads the words on it. She’s stalking forward before her plans to be an absolute terror have even solidified in her mind.

“So, Bobby!”

He startles at the chipper sound of her voice, glasses tipping down his nose and his mouth a little oh.

“Whatcha got there?”

If her voice didn’t have the other Daggers gathering around their bespectacled colleague and friend before, they’re definitely gathering around now.

 “Cookies, Nix.” There’s a catch in his voice, his shoulders hunching protectively over the note and the tupperware box.

“I can see that, Bobby boy!”  The smile she shares with Rooster is anything but innocent. “But who gave you the cookies?”

“Bagman.”

That’s all the information Nat gets out of her tight-lipped WSO. A few hours later, she’s sweaty and mussed in her flight suit and trailing behind him. Now, she finally sees the note.

Hi Bob,

I confess, I don’t really know your name. Jake refers to you as Baby on Board, and I know your callsign is Bob. Is that actually your first name? As much as I’d love to interrogate Jake one day as to why he calls you Baby on Board, I think I’d like to get to know you a bit better. I've been calling you ‘The Cute one with the Glasses’ in my head since we met.

I don’t know if you remember me, the absolute mess wearing socks and sandals at the hospital the other day. Jake basically ordered me to make you cookies to thank you for calming Ivy down, and well, you know Jake. If I said no, he would’ve made my life miserable. 

All words about completely melodramatic Seresins aside, I did want to thank you. Ivy was seconds away from a snotty, tear-filled meltdown when you walked through that door. I was seconds away from joining her.

You’re something special, Uncle Bob. Ivy adores you, and you know Jake adores you too, no matter how much shit he gives you. I know I made a less than favorable first impression at the hospital yesterday, what with the yogurt on my shirt and Ivy screaming and everything. But would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?

Lia

XXX-XXX-XXXX

“So, you’re going out with Lia, right?” 

He snorts as he opens the Tupperware container and offers Nat a cookie. 

“You just want all the dirt on our relationship, if we get there, don’t you?” 

Her voice is a little muffled by sweet buttery cookie goodness, the slightly bitter chocolate melting on her tongue when she responds. “Of course I do!”

“I’ve been wanting you to ask Lia out for months!” 

Bob blinks, blue eyes widening behind his frames as Nat grabs another cookie while gesticulating wildly.

“You’ve been starstruck from that first barbecue years ago. But you never got close to her. I don’t think you’ve actually spoken to her in the two years of squadron events. It figures that she asked you out thanks to some pushing from Bagman, because she’s just as shy as you are.”

“She thought I was the doctor in the hospital yesterday.”

Nat grins at the look on her WSO’s face. “Well, it makes sense. You keep hiding behind Rooster or Javy or Payback when we’re at the Seresins and she’s around. It’s about time she noticed you.”

Bob snorts, “Well, it’s a good thing I messaged her already and agreed to meet up for coffee.”

“So you better get Jake to foot the bill for the best date you can give her!”

As if she even has to say that. Nat’s sure her WSO is just as enraptured as her friend is. Bob will be good for Lia, she knows it. Of course she’s going to give them shit. That’s her prerogative as Bob’s best friend and pilot. But she’d be surprised if they didn’t work out. After all, if any two people would be perfect together it would be Bob and Lia.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd imagine

[sugarcoated-lame]

Warmth

Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: You took care of Bob the night before, and he makes sure to return the favor in the morning.

WC: ~1.9K

Warnings: smut, fingering, mentions of oral (m + f receiving), mentions of p in v, soft morning smut with baby boy bob <3, this is just straight up smut, 18+ Minors DNI!

A/N: my love @sebsxphia , you told me to let you know if I post this so please enjoy <33

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You wake up to the feeling of warmth. Warm chest pressed to your bare back, a strong arm draped securely across your middle, legs entangled between your own. Bob’s chin hooked over your shoulder, his face resting nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you rest along your pillow.

Warm not only due to the plush duvet you’re lying under, but the familiar, comforting warmth that always seemed to radiate from the sweet, shy man wrapped around you.

His hold around your waist tightens as he feels you beginning to stir, your eyes flutter open and then shut again as he turns his head to press a delicate kiss to your cheek.

“Mornin’, my love.” The raspy, sleep-filled tone and the hint of Bob’s southern accent that becomes so clear in the mornings when he first wakes up, drag a sleepy smile out of you.

You relay his words back to him with a sleepy sigh as Bob’s lips continue to press soft kisses into the skin of your cheek before trailing down to your neck and shoulder. Your hand moves under the blanket to find Bob’s that rests over your stomach, fingers pressing over his atop your warm skin.

You love mornings like this. Mornings where Bob doesn’t have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work and leave you with nothing but an ‘I love you’ and a soft kiss to your forehead as you sleep soundly in his bed.

Soft mornings spent together between sheets, naked bodies tangled up in each other’s warmth, skin-on-skin—the two of you just being. Sweet nothings murmured between you while you just stare into those pretty blue eyes without the barrier of the glasses you know he’ll put on when he’s more awake. Speaking in hushed tones as if anything louder would disturb the peace.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. Bob has a rare weekend off and you’d spent the previous night cooking dinner together and laughing as he’d twirled you around his small kitchen. The two of you enjoyed a peaceful dinner, discussing the latest work gossip and recounting your days before you found yourselves wrapped up in those same sheets.

Tired from your respective workdays, the end of a long week taking its toll on you, but you had wanted to make him feel good. 

“Wanna take care of you,” you’d told him. “Always take such good care of me, Bobby. Wanna make tonight about you.”

You’d taken your time kissing every inch of his skin, paying extra special attention to all the little moles and beauty marks you’d come to love so much, leaving countless love bites in your wake, strategically placing the purplish marks where you knew they’d be hidden beneath his uniform.

You rode him before letting him finish in your mouth, and Bob came almost instantly at the sight of your plush lips wrapped around him, your bleary, tear-filled eyes looking up into his so innocently as you took his length down your throat.

You’d swallowed his release eagerly and Bob could taste himself on your tongue as you curled up next to him with one last loving kiss. Then, you were out like a light before he could even think to return the favor.

Bob prided himself on making you feel good. Always working to bring you over the edge with his mouth or his fingers, always making sure that you come at least two times, at least, before he even thinks about finishing himself— preferably while pulling another orgasm from you as well, as he does.

So, he felt guilty, as though he’d failed his love or done you some serious wrong when you fell asleep before he could return the favor and have you crying out under his touch at least once.

He didn’t have to wallow in the guilt of you not reaching that peak for very long though, as he was exhausted from the work week too and wasn’t far behind you in falling asleep.

So, waking up this morning with the soft, bare skin of your body pressed up against his own and the sweet scent of your shampoo filling his nose as it nuzzles into your neck and in your loose hair, there’s only one thing on Bob’s mind.

His fingers rise to push your hair off to the side, and soft lips begin a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the junction of your shoulder and neck, up to the column of your throat. Stopping only briefly to suck at the soft skin and nip at it with his teeth, pulling a breathless whimper from your lips as he soothes over the bite with his tongue.

“What are you up to, Bobby?” You question with a sigh, lazily reaching your free hand back and into his soft hair as his own hand makes its way up from your waist to your breast, large palm cupping the mound with a gentle squeeze.

“Y’took such good care of me last night, honey. My turn to take care of you.” Bob replies in a gravely whisper right next to your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

All you can give him is an affirmative hum in reply as his fingers begin to circle over your nipple, pinching the sensitive skin between his thumb and index finger until it forms a hardened peak, before paying the same treatment to your other breast.

When he’s satisfied with his work, Bob’s hand begins to trek further below the blanket. Skating lightly along your sternum and stomach, down to your hip and skipping right past where you need him most.

Calloused fingers teasingly graze the soft skin of your inner thigh, and Bob lets out a chuckle as he feels the impatient little groan you let out rumble through your back that’s pressed against his chest.

He doesn’t torture you for long, his fingers finding your center and running through your folds, a groan sounding from deep in his throat as he feels your arousal coat his fingers.

“So wet for me already, hmm?” Your affirmative ‘uh-huh’ comes out as more of a quiet squeak as your breath catches when Bob’s rough fingers find your clit, spreading your wetness over the sensitive bud.

Bob’s hand dips back down and he presses a finger into you, down to the knuckle, drawing a gasp from you as your walls clench tight around the single digit.

Moving in and out of you slowly, working you open before adding a second finger. His free hand pushes underneath you on the mattress and around to your front to grab ahold of your breast.

“Bobby-” You can’t bring yourself to complete your sentence as the sensation of his fingers filling you and his other hand playing with your nipple has your head spinning.

Bob pushes one of his legs between yours to spread you further, open you up more for him. He quickens the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you, a gush of arousal flooding around them as his thumb begins to circle your clit.

“Bobby, I- fuck! Please…” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for, hardly able to form a coherent thought as your hips buck up toward his hand of their own volition, walls clamping down hard around him as his long fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

“So good for me, my love.” The sounds you’re making are downright sinful as Bob increases the speed of his thumb rolling over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

With your high fast approaching, you twist your head back towards Bob to face him, filled with a sudden and desperate need to feel his lips on yours.

Your hand reaches back into the strands at the nape of his neck to pull his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. One you hope conveys all the love and gratitude you feel for the sweet, doting aviator.

He kisses back with just as much fervor, tongue slipping into your mouth eagerly as your lips part for him.

Bob ignores his achingly hard length that you can feel pressing into your backside as his fingers continue their onslaught between your legs, his tongue softly caressing yours.

This is about you. His only goal is to make you feel good, to watch you fall apart in his arms.

“C’mon, honey.” Bob’s quiet, gruff words only spur you on, pulling you deeper under. “Gonna cum for me, hmm?”

He knows you’re close by the way your back is arching into him and your hips are bucking against his hand, trying to feel his fingers that little bit deeper.

“Let go. Cum for me, baby.” He practically begs in a whisper against your lips and your following whines are swallowed by his mouth.

The combination of his long fingers repeatedly prodding that spot inside of you, Bob’s thumb rapidly rubbing over your clit, and the fingers of his other hand pinching your sensitive nipple has your lips detaching from his as you fall over the edge with a throaty cry, chest heaving and desperate for air.

Your body shudders in Bob’s embrace as your orgasm washes over you, broken whimpers and breathy pleas of his name escaping your lips as he slows the circles of his thumb over your clit to guide you through it.

He leans over your shoulder to press sweet kisses to the side of your face and whispers sweetly into your ear as you ride out your high. “Did so good for me, my love.”

Once you’ve stopped trembling from the overwhelming pleasure and your walls are no longer fluttering around his fingers, Bob pulls them from you gently and finally unwraps himself from around you. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hair before leaning up to turn you onto your back. 

You can’t help the lovesick smile that takes over your face now that you’re able to see him properly. To admire the beauty of your boyfriend, your Bobby, in the mid-morning light that streams in through the bedroom window and casts him in a golden glow.

His warm body moves to hover over your own, a welcome weight as he attaches your lips in a tender kiss before trailing his along the skin of your jaw, down to your neck and chest.

You’re still breathless, hardly having recovered from your high as those cerulean eyes that you adore so much look up at you with a hint of mirth in them. You watch his head of short, light brown curls—mussed from sleep and your fingers, retreating under the covers. His kisses continuing a path down from your ribs to your stomach, and your hip bones.

Bob’s voice is slightly muffled beneath the fabric of the duvet, but you can hear him clear as day.

“Ready for another one?”

All you can do is whimper and push your fingers into his hair once again as Bob presses one last gentle kiss to your inner thigh, before his mouth goes straight to work where you need him most.

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Thank you for reading! x

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