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bradshawsbaby · 3 months

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Sprinkles of Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: It's Bob's birthday and you want to do something special for him. The problem is that you've only been on two dates, and you can't get out of your head about making that first move.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to my #1 Guy, Lewis Pullman! I thought we all deserved some sweet Bob fluff to celebrate!

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, featuring the jitters and nervousness that comes with a new relationship.

You glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, your fingers itching to reach for it where it sat taunting you on the counter near the cash register.

Biting down on your lower lip, you peeked surreptitiously over your shoulder before finally picking it up, your finger hovering hesitantly over the green messages icon.

“Are you finally going to text him or are you just going to keep staring longingly at your phone all day?”

Your cousin’s teasing voice startled you, pulling you out of your silent reverie as you fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it to the floor in your haste to get a grip on it and shove it inside your apron pocket.

Alexandria just laughed in response, her dark eyes sparkling as she slid a tray of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies onto one of the display case shelves. Normally, you would have complimented her on how amazing they smelled, but given the knowing smirk she was sending your way, you stuck your tongue out at her instead.

“Stick your tongue out at me all you want,” she told you, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “But I know you, and I know how badly you want to text him. So why don’t you just do it already and save yourself all the torment?”

“Lexie,” you groaned, your phone suddenly feeling like a rock inside your pocket. Why did your cousin have to know you like the back of her hand?

You were saved from having to elaborate, however, when one of the timers dinged in the kitchen, signaling that the newest batch of muffins you and Lex had put in a little while ago was finished. She shot a pointed look in your direction, making it clear the conversation wasn’t over, before turning on her heel and going to take the muffins out of the oven.

Since it was the usual mid-morning lull and the only customers currently inside the bakery were a college student working on her laptop near the window and two elderly ladies enjoying conversation over scones and tea, you figured you should be both a good cousin and a good employee and go help Lexie in the back.

Despite the fact that you had already been working at the bakery for a few months now—ever since you had moved to San Diego—you still couldn’t help but be blown away whenever it hit you that your cousin had really accomplished the dream she’d been chasing since you were little girls. For as long as you could remember, Alexandria had been wanting to open up her very own bakery, a cozy little spot where people could come to read, hang out, and relax, all while enjoying some homemade treats and delicious coffee. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of you were playing with her Easy-Bake Oven, and now here she was—living the dream as a successful small business owner. You couldn’t have been more proud of her. Or more grateful that she’d given you both a job and a place to live when you’d decided to follow in her footsteps and make the move out to California.

Lex was like the big sister you never had. She gave the best advice and she knew you inside and out. Which was normally a good thing, but judging by the way she was looking at you from under her dark lashes, you knew today was going to be one of those days where she insisted on pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You sighed in exasperation as you helped her set the freshly baked orange cranberry muffins—a favorite among her loyal customers—on the cooling rack. “I wish I hadn’t even mentioned it. It’s not that big of a deal,” you insisted, supremely conscious of the weight of your phone pressing against your thigh as you worked.

“If it’s not that big of a deal, then why do you seem to be making it one?” Lexie replied with that razor-sharp wit of hers, winking when you shot her a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I’m not!” you insisted, although you knew that was a complete and total lie. You were being ridiculous and you knew it, but every time you even thought about sending him a message, your heart started pounding inside your chest and your palms got all gross and clammy.

Lex crossed her arms over her chest, throwing an exasperated look heavenward. “Babe, you’ve already been on two dates with him and he wants to take you out on another. Do you seriously think you’re going to send him running for the hills if you send him a text wishing him a happy birthday?”

When you heard it out loud, it did sound pretty stupid. He was such a great guy, so sweet and attentive and caring, and he had done nothing to indicate that he was losing interest or that he would be freaked out by such a simple message. But still…

“I do want to text him,” you confessed, biting your lip as you carried the empty muffin tray over to the large sink where your cousin washed all her baking supplies.

“So what’s holding you back?” Lexie asked, her voice gentler this time as she leaned her hip against the counter, clearly trying to understand. She’d seen your heart get broken enough times to know that you were much more cautious now when it came to entrusting it to other people.

You sighed softly, fiddling with the strings on your pink-and-white striped apron as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s just—we’ve only been on two dates. I mean, they were really amazing dates, but still. Only two. And our birthdays only came up once in passing on our first date. He never mentioned it again, even when he called the other night to ask me if I’d like to go out this weekend. So on the one hand, I do want to text him to wish him a happy birthday, but on the other hand, what if it weirds him out that I remembered? What if he thinks I’m some kind of obsessive stalker and gets the ick and then ghosts me?”

“For wishing him a happy birthday?” your cousin questioned skeptically, her eyebrows rising until they were practically touching the edges of her blunt bangs.

“I’ve been ghosted before for less,” you muttered in embarrassment, knowing that your love life was a disaster compared to your cousin, who had been with her soon-to-be-husband since high school.

Lex softened immediately, stepping beside you and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. “I know,” she murmured soothingly, rubbing your arm with a gentle hand. “But those guys were jerks who didn’t deserve you. From everything I know about this guy, he sounds so great. He seems like the kind of guy who would be happy that you remembered his birthday.”

Honestly, you couldn’t argue with her there.

Bob Floyd was unlike any man you’d ever met before. He was everything you’d ever hoped to find but had feared you never would, the kind of perfect that seemed too good to be true, the gentleman that you had thought existed only in fairytales.

It had been over a month now since he’d stepped off a storybook page and walked into your life.

You could still remember that afternoon so clearly. It was a Saturday, and the bakery had been surprisingly dead. Lexie had decided to run to the bank, leaving you in charge of things in her absence. You’d been rearranging some of the pastries in the display case when the bell over the front door chimed, signaling a customer.

Stepping up to the counter, the words of greeting died in your throat when one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life approached, a shy smile stretching across his face.

“Hi,” he greeted you in a soft-spoken voice, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and yet you’d never seen a guy look better.

“Hi,” you echoed, your eyes widening as you got lost in a gaze as blue as the cornflowers that grew in your grandparents’ backyard.

The two of you just stared at each other for a couple minutes, neither of you saying anything, even as the air between you seemed to spark and hum with electricity.

“Um, I was, uh, hoping that you still had some cupcakes left. I know it’s a little later in the day and my neighbor who recommended this place said that you should always get here early, but, um, I have a little barbeque that I’m going to and I wanted to bring some dessert. I’m hopeless at making anything myself,” he rambled, his eyes crinkling as he laughed somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was only when he cleared his throat awkwardly a moment later that you realized you hadn’t yet responded to him.

“Oh! Cupcakes!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out a little louder and squeakier than you had intended. “Of course!” Running your hands down the front of your apron, you shook your head slightly to try to knock some sense into it. You walked over to the display case, indicating that he should come take a look. “Normally we’d already be sold out of a lot of these, but it’s been quieter today than usual, so we still have plenty left. I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Seems like it,” he smiled, his blue eyes latching onto your face.

Something about the way he said it made your insides feel as gooey as the batter Lexie used to make her double chocolate fudge cake.

“How many cupcakes do you need?” you asked, working overtime to keep from getting flustered.

“I think two dozen should be fine,” he replied, his eyes roaming over the display case shelves. “Hmm, they all look so good, I wouldn’t know where to start. Do you have any recommendations?”

“The lemon zest cupcakes are really popular. So are the red velvet and the coconut cloud. Oh, and the German chocolate.” You laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, they’re all really good.”

He laughed in response, a small dimple appearing in his cheek that only further endeared him to you. “Which one is your favorite?” he asked, his voice so earnest it made your chest ache.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “The funfetti,” you told him, indicating the vanilla cupcakes baked with rainbow chips and topped with swirls of vanilla frosting and an extra dash of sprinkles.

“I’ll take a dozen funfetti cupcakes then. And you can surprise me with the other dozen,” he grinned, making you smile.

“I hope you and everyone at the barbeque enjoys,” you said after you finished ringing him up, sliding the two boxes of cupcakes towards him.

“I’m sure we will. This place comes highly recommended,” he replied with a smile. “Are you Lexie, the owner?”

“No, no, I’m her cousin,” you explained, introducing yourself by name.

“I’m Robert Floyd,” he said, holding out his hand to you. “But everyone calls me Bob.”

“Very nice to meet you, Bob,” you beamed, sliding your hand into his and shaking firmly. His hand was large and warm and calloused and it felt like yours had been made to fit inside it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he murmured softly, holding onto your hand for another second or two before slowly releasing it. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m sure I’ll be back again soon.”

“We serve really good coffee,” you said suddenly, desperate to find a reason to get him to come back. “And we open really early. You know, if you want to get some on your way to work.”

Bob’s beautiful blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.” He picked up his boxes of cupcakes and turned towards the door. Before he left, he shot you one last smile that melted your insides. “See you around.”

After that, Bob Floyd had found plenty of reasons to stop by the bakery. The following Monday, he’d stopped by in the morning to grab coffee for him and his friends on his way to work. That was when you’d learned that he was a naval aviator stationed at North Island.

“You were right about those funfetti cupcakes,” he told you, patting his stomach with a grin. “I think I ate about half the box before I thought to share them with anyone else.”

Your eyes crinkled and you felt your skin grow warm as you smiled in response. “Good, I’m so glad.”

You made sure to slip a cupcake in with all his coffee orders, a gesture which he didn’t fail to notice, judging from the extra large tip he left in the jar.

“See you soon,” he smiled, balancing all that coffee in his large hands as he backed out of the bakery.

From then on, he was there practically every day, stopping in for coffee or for some cupcakes after work. He often picked up things for other people—his friends or his neighbor who had recommended the bakery to him. But for himself, he always stuck with the funfetti cupcakes.

“I know I should branch out and try something new,” he told you one day through a mouthful of sprinkles. “But I can’t help it—these are just so good.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for Bob to work up the nerve to finally ask you if you might be interested in getting dinner with him sometime. You’d had to bite your tongue to keep from immediately screaming, “YES!” in his face,

The two of you spent your first date at a gorgeous little seafood restaurant right on the water, and then went for a long walk on the beach afterwards. It was truly the best date you’d ever been on. Bob was a perfect gentleman, attentively listening to everything you had to say and making you feel as though he actually cared about what was important to you. He’d even draped his jacket over your shoulders as you walked by the water, noticing the way you were shivering slightly in the dress you’d worn. You had been hoping he would kiss you at the end of the night, but like the gentleman that he was, he’d simply brushed your cheek with his lips, asking in a hushed voice if you’d like to see him again.

You wanted that very much.

On your second date, Bob took you mini golfing, something you’d told him that you hadn’t done since you were a little girl. You didn’t think you’d ever laughed so much as you did that night, no matter how terrible you turned out to be at miniature golf. Just like on your first date, Bob walked you to your door at the end of the night, his hand resting on the small of your back as you turned to look up at him, your eyes begging him to give you a proper kiss goodnight.

He had to duck his head slightly as he leaned in closer, a lock of his honey-colored hair draping across his forehead as his gaze latched onto yours, your breath mingling as the two of you inched closer and closer.

It was a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. His lips just barely brushed against yours, sending a shock of electric currents up and down your spine. When he pulled back, the both of you were flushed and stammering.

“C-can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, still so shy even after two dates.

“I hope you do,” you whispered with a smile, squeezing his hand before slipping through your front door.

Faithful to his word, Bob had called you the next day. The two of you were supposed to be going out again this weekend.

But that brought you back to your current dilemma—his birthday. You knew you were being stupid about this. Texting him for his birthday wasn’t tantamount to a marriage proposal. It wasn’t like you were trying to throw him a surprise party or invite yourself over for cake. It was a text message for crying out loud. And even though it had only come up once, he had told you when his birthday was. It wasn’t like you had gone to North Island and asked to see his personnel file.

The truth was, you were just terrified of screwing things up. You’d gone on plenty of dates with guys who had seemed really nice, who you had really thought were into you, only to be ghosted or flat-out rejected. Deep down inside, you knew that Bob was different from all those other guys, but still—the thought of sending him running made your stomach twist into knots.

“Babe, you know what I’m going to say,” Lexie murmured, your cousin’s voice pulling you out of all your convoluted thoughts. “If you never take a risk, then nothing’s ever going to change. I know you’re nervous, but just go for it. The worst that happens—seriously, the worst case scenario—is that he ghosts you. But you know what? If he does that, then he wasn’t worth your time anyway. And if he doesn’t? Well, maybe he’ll start to fall even harder for the gorgeous girl who remembered his birthday.” She grinned, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right?” you grinned ruefully, pulling back from your cousin’s embrace and fiddling nervously with the scrunchie on your wrist.

“It’s a gift,” she replied with a wink, turning to look over her shoulder when the bell over the front door chimed. “I’ve got it,” she told you, squeezing your arm before heading back out to the front.

That left you alone in the back kitchen, your phone burning a hole in your apron pocket and your heart hammering inside your chest.

“Okay, don’t be an idiot,” you murmured to yourself. As far as pep talks went, it was far from the most inspirational, but it did the job as you pulled your phone out. “It’s not too much too soon. It’s just a text,” you breathed out. “It’s just a text.”

Opening your messages, you found Bob’s name—he was right near the top after texting you just yesterday—and opened up your conversation thread, chewing on your bottom lip.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you tapped out a quick message that you hoped was short, sweet, and to the point and hit send.

Happy Birthday, Bob! I hope you have a wonderful day! 🥳🎉

You felt hot all over as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, your pulse stuttering in your veins as you wondered how long it would take him to see it. From what he had told you about his job, he often spent hours in the air each day, so chances were good he didn’t even have his phone on him right now.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and determined not to think about it. A task that was much easier said than done. But as you walked back out into the main part of the bakery, you found that a small crowd had formed, so you jumped into assisting your cousin behind the counter.

“Well?” Lexie asked under her breath as you helped her fill a couple boxes with a dozen cinnamon chip muffins.

“I sent it,” you murmured in reply, purposely avoiding her direct gaze. “But I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

As much as you had tried not to, you’d been compulsively checking your phone every five minutes.

Lex shrugged and waved it off. “It’s still early yet,” she said confidently, carrying the boxes over to the patiently waiting customer.

You threw yourself into various tasks around the bakery, anything that would keep your mind off your phone. You restocked the shelves in the display cases, organized the money in the cash register, wiped down the counters in the kitchen, scrubbed the baking pans, frosted cupcakes, replaced the coffee beans, and waited on any customers who walked in.

A couple of times, your phone buzzed in your pocket and your heart jumped into your throat, only to sink down to your stomach when you pulled it out and found that it was just an email notification or a text from your mom.

The longer you went without hearing from Bob, the harder you had to work to convince yourself that he wasn’t ignoring you.

No. He wasn’t ignoring you. Bob wasn’t like that. You were sure of it.

It was a little after noon, just when you’d taken a cup of coffee into the back for a short break, when you felt your phone buzz again, vibrating against your thigh through your apron. Swallowing nervously, you put your coffee down and reached into your pocket, a small gasp escaping you when you saw Bob’s name on the screen.

You could scarcely unlock your phone fast enough, opening up the text thread to read his reply.

Wow, you remembered! That means so much to me. Thank you! ☺️ Sorry it took me a little while to respond—we were doing some test flights, but I’m on my lunch break now and I’ll be on the ground for the rest of the day. How are you?

It took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to scream and jump up and down like a little girl. It felt like a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t freaked him out! He hadn’t ghosted you! It was just like Lexie said—he was happy that you remembered.

Grinning like a fool, you leaned against the counter and typed out a response, not caring that your coffee was getting cold.

I’m doing great! Glad to hear you got some flying in on your special day ✈️ Doing anything to celebrate?

It was only after you had sent the message that you began to fret that it sounded like you were being nosy about his plans, or worse, trying to insert yourself into them.

But then Bob responded a minute later and put your worries to rest.

Nothing too fancy. My friends ordered lunch and got me a cake. They sang “Happy Birthday,” too, even though I begged them not to lol. I usually keep it pretty lowkey on my birthday.

You smiled as you wrote back, Was it a funfetti cake?

His next response came in no time at all, and it made your stomach flutter to imagine that he was focusing entirely on you and your conversation during his lunch break.

If only! It was really good, but I don’t think anything compares to those funfetti cupcakes 😋

At that moment, Lex walked into the back, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the huge smile plastered on your face. It felt like it was going to get permanently stuck there.

“Well, well, well,” she grinned, sidling up next to you. “Should I take that glowing smile to mean you finally heard back from your lieutenant?”

You ducked your head shyly, your cheeks growing warm. “He isn’t my lieutenant,” you insisted.

“Mhm, sure,” your cousin grinned, laughing loudly when you nudged her in the side. “So it worked out after all? He didn’t say you were a freaky stalker? I shouldn’t be expecting the police to burst down the door any minute?”

“Okay, okay,” you groaned, realizing how ridiculous you’d been behaving that morning. “You were right. It all worked out. He was very touched that I remembered his birthday,” you murmured, sheepishly scuffing your sneaker against the floor.

“I’ve gotta say it—told you so,” Lex smirked victoriously, wrapping her arms around you and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, feigning annoyance even as you grinned and returned your cousin’s hug. “You know, Bob was actually just texting me that his friends at work got him a cake, but that it just doesn’t compare to your funfetti cupcakes,” you told her with a proud smile.

“What can I say? They are pretty damn delicious,” she winked, her chest puffing up with pride. A sudden thought struck her as she looked at you. “Hey, what time does Bob get off from work?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Usually around six or seven, I think,” you told her, your brow wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“Hmm, perfect,” Lexie mused, tapping her chin as she glanced over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. Your older cousin was always plotting something.

“I mean that the bakery closes at five-thirty,” she said, as if you weren’t already well aware of that fact. When she realized that you weren’t exactly catching her drift, she went on, “Which means you could invite Bob over for a little after hours birthday treat if you’d like,” she grinned.

“Lex!” you gasped, scandalized.

Your cousin threw her head back laughing. “I didn’t mean that you should jump his bones in the middle of the bakery! I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t do that,” she chuckled teasingly. “I just meant you could surprise him with something sweet, on the house. Something we make here,” she added with a pointed look that made your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding your head slowly. “Right. Of course.” You cleared your throat slightly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not! Anyone who makes my cousin this happy is welcome to free cupcakes anytime,” Lex said firmly, cupping your face in her hands and beaming at you.

“You’re the best,” you told her, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her in a tight hug. “I’ll text Bob now and see if he thinks he’ll be up for it.”

“If you’re the one asking, I’m sure he will be,” she winked, nudging you playfully before turning to go back to the front counter.

Once she was out of sight, you turned your attention back to your phone and bit your lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you wanted to ask him.

Speaking of funfetti cupcakes, any chance you’d want to swing by the bakery on your way home from work? We close at 5:30 today, but we make special after hours exceptions for our best customers 😉🧁

Was that stupid? That probably sounded stupid. Would he think that you were suggesting a quickie on the bakery floor the way you thought your cousin had been suggesting? Oh God, could you unsend that message before he got it?

I would love to! Is 6:45 too late?

This man didn’t cease to amaze you.

No, that’s perfect!

See you then ☺️

You tried your hardest to smother the smile that was threatening to completely overtake your face, but you couldn’t do it. This man gave you butterflies like you’d never experienced before in all your life, and the thought of getting to see him in just a few hours made you feel like you were going to burst from excitement and anticipation.

You didn’t even have to tell Lexie what Bob had said. The second she saw your face, she just smiled knowingly and told you, “I’ll be out of here by six.”

Time had never seemed to move so slowly as it did that day while you waited for closing time to finally come around. Lex observed your growing impatience with amusement, giving you as many odd jobs as she could to hopefully make the minutes go faster.

When the clock finally chimed five-thirty, you practically sprinted towards the door, locking it and flipping the closed sign around to ward off anyone who might have tried to stop by for a last minute treat.

“Good thing business is so good or I might get mad at you for scaring off customers,” Lexie teased.

True to her word, your cousin helped you clean up and then was heading out the door by six o’clock.

“Have so much fun,” she told you, blowing you a quick succession of air kisses. “And tell Bob happy birthday from me,” she added with a wink before slipping out the door.

With your cousin gone, that left you about forty-five minutes to finish getting ready before Bob arrived. You quickly set a playlist of classic 60s tunes to play softly through the speakers—you and Bob had discovered you had a similar taste in music about halfway through your first date—and then hurried into the bathroom to fix up your hair and apply a little bit of make-up. You usually didn’t bother with much when you were working, but you wanted to look nice for Bob.

Once you were done getting ready, you went into the back to get his little birthday treat set up—Lexie had made a fresh batch of funfetti cupcakes towards the end of the day just for the occasion. You had just finished placing one of the cupcakes on a small plate with a lace doily and inserting a candle into it when you heard a faint knock on the front door.

Your heart rate immediately began climbing as you ran your hands over the T-shirt and jeans you’d worn today, hoping you looked halfway presentable. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, you stepped out into the main part of the bakery and felt your legs instantly turn to Jell-O at the sight of Bob standing at the door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You’d only told him once in passing how much you loved them, and he had remembered.

Wow, that really did mean a lot.

“Hi,” you greeted him, standing in the open doorway and beaming up at him.

“Hi,” he echoed, that little dimple making an appearance as he smiled down at you. After a beat, he seemed to suddenly remember that he was holding the flowers in his hand. “Oh, these are for you,” he said, holding them out shyly.

“They’re beautiful, Bob,” you breathed out softly, accepting them with a smile and pressing them to your nose. “My favorite. You remembered.”

“Just like you remembered my birthday,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but which you knew you felt just as much as he did.

The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, just gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling dreamily. Then you came to your senses.

“Come in, come in,” you told him, stepping out of the doorway so that he could enter and then closing the door behind him. “Gosh, these really are such beautiful flowers. That was so sweet of you. You didn’t have to get me anything. It is your birthday, after all,” you said, guiding him to a table in the center of the room.

“I wanted to,” Bob replied, taking a seat. He was still in his flight suit and he looked so handsome. “I’m happy that they made you smile.”

“It’s hard not to smile when I’m around you,” you told him, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could think twice about them. Your cheeks grew warm when you realized how vulnerable they were, and you buried your face in the bouquet once more.

Bob’s cheeks had grown rosy as well, and you noticed that his leg was bouncing nervously underneath the table. “I feel the same way,” he murmured softly.

You could have thrown your arms around him and kissed him right then and there, but then you recalled the actual reason why you had invited him over.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said suddenly, smiling brightly as you laid the bouquet of flowers down on the counter. “Wait right here and close your eyes,” you told him, waiting until he had done so before hurrying into the back and lighting the candle you’d tucked into his cupcake.

When you stepped back into the main room on quiet feet, you found that Bob was still patiently sitting with his eyes closed. Your heart swelled with deep affection—and was it possible something even deeper? You had never met anyone like him and you were certain you never would again.

It was at that moment that you realized “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes was currently playing through the speakers, as apropos a sign as you could imagine.

You cleared your throat slightly as you approached the table, the candle sparkling in front of your face as you brought it closer to the birthday boy.

“I know you said you weren’t a big fan of being serenaded with ‘Happy Birthday,’ so I’ll spare you my vocals,” you teased, setting the plate down in front of him. “But Happy Birthday, Bob.”

Opening his eyes, Bob glanced from your face down to the cupcake and then back up to you again. He seemed at a loss for words, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“This is—this—thank you,” Bob finally said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smiled, sitting down beside him and gently resting your hand over his. “Blow out your candle before it melts into your cupcake,” you giggled.

He grinned at the sound of your laughter, leaning in closer to blow out the single candle, though he kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time.

“Lexie baked them fresh this afternoon. There’s a whole bunch more in the back that I’m going to be sending you home with,” you told him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his face lit up.

“What did I do to deserve all this? This is the best birthday present ever,” Bob chuckled, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing lightly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, glancing down at the table shyly. “The truth is, I was a little nervous to text you earlier.”

Bob looked surprised at your admission. “Why?” he asked, astonished.

You bit your lip and hesitated, but then decided to be honest. Like Lexie said, if you never took a risk, then you never got to see anything change. “I know this is going to sound so stupid, but I was worried you would think it was too much if I texted you for your birthday.”

“Too much?” he repeated, his brow crinkling in obvious confusion.

“You know, just because you had only mentioned your birthday once. I thought maybe I would seem too desperate or clingy or something if I reached out. I thought it would freak you out,” you confessed. “I know that sounds pretty dumb when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Bob assured you, shaking his head slowly. “I know what you mean. To be honest, I think I’ve had that problem myself. Y’know, coming off too eager and scaring girls away,” he admitted, blushing as he ducked his head.

“Oh, Bob,” you murmured in understanding, lacing your fingers through his. With all the other things you two had in common, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a crappy dating history was something else you shared. “You could never scare me off,” you promised him.

Lifting his head, he smiled at you and reached out slowly, his fingertips stirring a few wisps of your hair as he brushed your cheek lightly. “And you could never freak me out. It meant so much to me that you remembered my birthday. It made my whole day, in fact. Even more than the funfetti cupcakes,” he said, his eyes crinkling. He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then added softly, “I remember everything about you.”

“You do?” you whispered, feeling a sudden surge of emotion well up in your throat.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your favorite movies, the fact that you like tomatoes but hate ketchup, the way you throw your head back when you laugh really loudly. Your favorite flowers. I remember it all.”

“Bob,” you breathed out, the tears brimming in your eyes as your gaze dropped from his eyes down to his mouth.

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but soon enough, Bob was holding you in his arms, your lips pressed together in a kiss that was much less chaste than your first one, but just as sweet. Your arms snaked around his neck, one hand burying itself in his soft hair, the other resting on the nape of his neck. He let out a soft groan in response, one of his large hands resting on your hip and the other splaying across your back, holding you close.

It was a kiss that was so much like Bob himself—gentle, kind, tender, sweet, affectionate, attentive. He didn’t demand more than you were willing to give, he didn’t try to take anything from you. He just wanted to make you feel how much he cared about you, wanted to make you feel special and cherished. And he did. You hoped more than anything that you were doing the same for him.

Because the truth was that you were already falling for Bob Floyd, and falling hard.

When the two of you finally pulled back—a mutually hesitant parting borne solely of the need for oxygen—you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as Bob rested his forehead against yours.

“Okay, maybe that was the best birthday present ever,” he chuckled quietly, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I think so, too, and it’s not even my birthday,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder. “Are you going to have your cupcake?” you asked, glancing down at where it sat on the plate, still untouched.

“Mhm,” Bob nodded, wrapping an arm around you and brushing his fingers up and down your arm. “But there actually is something I’d like to ask you first,” he said, suddenly sounding nervous.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked so flustered.

“Of course. What is it?” you questioned, resting a hand on his arm.

“Well, all of this has been amazing,” he began, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. You had noticed they had a tendency to slide down when he was particularly nervous. “But there actually is one more thing that I’d really like for my birthday this year.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “What is it?”

Bob swallowed deeply and then looked directly into your eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your lips parted as a little gasp of delighted surprise escaped you. It may have been Bob’s birthday, but it felt like you were the one being showered with gifts today.

“Oh, Bob, yes! Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Yes?” Bob repeated between kisses, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” you told him seriously, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed out, the term of endearment falling easily off his tongue in that adorable midwestern accent of his. He pulled you into his arms once more and kissed you soundly.

You giggled softly as you reached for the funfetti cupcake and removed the candle, holding it up for him to take a bite. “Happy Birthday, Bob.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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sometimesanalice · 3 days

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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

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

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lizardsfromspace · 7 months

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We talk a lot about people rewriting history to claim problematic authors were always bad but there's a inverse phenomena where people rewrite history to give artists they agree with a ridiculously outsized reputation

You see this with conservatives falling over themselves to declare that "Kid Rock is better than Bruce Springsteen!" bc Kid Rock agrees with them but also

TERFs have gone from claiming JKR is the best British children's writer of her generation, a defensible belief (one I'd disagree with, that's motherfucking Philip Pullman, and that's what I thought as a kid too), to increasingly ridiculous and lavish praise about her being the greatest female writer, the greatest living writer, the writer of the best first sentence in literature, after Dickens and Orwell of course, you have to be modest and acknowledge the classics. It's not enough for her to be an acclaimed best-seller, she has to be literally the greatest writer in history, for some reason

Which is wild enough with Harry Potter, but when they apply it to her detective books it gets bizarre. Her detective novels, which only sold well (but not Harry Potter well) after her identity was revealed, and which get mixed reviews as they crest past a thousand pages a book, a ludicrous length for a murder mystery novel. They absolutely do not have a rapturous reception anywhere but in TERF circles, where they're unimpeachable masterpieces and the fact that they aren't more popular is suspicious, so you must buy Mission Earth Comoran Strike, and talk about it, and do anything you can to support visionary author L. Ron Hubbard JK Rowling as she changes the world forever

#transphobia cw #terfs cw #jkr cw #books #politics

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urtheoneiwant · 2 years

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Buckle Bunny of Sorts │ Rhett Abbott

Genre: SMUT with some fluff

Summary: From the insistence of a friend, you spend a night out on the town. But you run into your long time crush, Rhett Abbott, and he has something to tell you.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ ONLY! P in v, oral sex (female receiving), small spit kink, dirty talk, degradation, praise, kinda dom!Rhett and sub!reader, use of term 'buckle bunny', pining, revealing feelings, unprotected sex, pull-out method (be smart! don't use pull-out method as a form of birth control irl), messy sex, pet names (bunny, baby), a smidge of sexism from the towns people? Written as a fem!reader. Just nasty, nasty filth.

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: My first smut! Please be kind, I'm still very new to writing and especially smut. But I loved Outer Range and I saw someone post about wanting to be Rhett's buckle bunny and couldn't get this out of my head. I didn't want country girl (as I call her) to be an actually buckle bunny since they are sort of frowned upon (but I say you do you). So this is the idea I came up with instead. It took me forever to write this, but I'm pretty proud of it. In conclusion, I love Lewis Pullman and the characters he plays. Go watch Outer Range if you like Lewis, he's amazing in it and it is such a great show! Now I have to go bathe in holy water :) Oh and feel free to send in any request or thoughts you have about Top Gun or other characters. There is a list on my page of the main fandoms I'm into, but you can send whatever you want it and I've might have seen/read it. And you can always reach out to me for whatever (rants, ideas, links to articles about be we're obsessed with) Thanks for the support!

SMUT BELOW CUT. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

(GIF is not mine)

Admittedly, you felt a bit stupid. In your head, this seemed like a good idea, but as the idea becomes a reality you mentally kick yourself for it.

You’ve grown up in Amelia county your entire life. And in a place like this, people tend to stick to their roots, inner circle, and cliques. That being said, you knew just about everyone in your town, and definitely knew every boy your age. The problem was that they knew you too. Growing up you were definitely an outcast. Spending all your free time working to help pay the bills didn’t give you many chances to make friends. You were boring, safe. You knew it. You weren’t anything to write home about. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Last week you sat with the one friend you managed to make throughout your time in school, Sadie, and spilled these thoughts to her.

“That’s bullshit honey, and you know it.” Leave it to Sadie to soften the blow. “I’m sorry, but you are beautiful, any guy would be lucky to have you. But you spend all your time holed up at work or with me. These guys haven’t got a proper look at you since you hit puberty, no wonder they don’t seem interested.” She lectured.

“Well, what am I supposed to do about that? Get all dolled up for a night on the town? Look around, it’d be ridiculous” You replied.

“Come on, let me take you out. Just throw on some daisy dukes, a risky top, and some nice boots. It’ll be fun. And I’ll personally beat the shit out of anyone who has anything bad to say. Please, please, please…” And you knew that when Sadie was like this, you had no choice but to give in. So you agreed, one night out.

And that’s how you found yourself in your apartment letting Sadie pick out your outfit. She refused to tell you where you both were going, claiming that she didn’t want you to “get scared off.” And after opening the door wearing a pair of worn-out jeans and mud-covered boots, Sadie pushed her way inside to make you change.

She rifled through your dresser before holding up the tiniest pair of shorts you own. “No way, those are from high school. I don't even think they’ll fit. Plus it’s late out, why would I want to wear shorts?” You tried to reason with her, you really did.

“They may not fit you like they did in high school, but that’s the point, honey. Just trust me this once. Everyone is going to be all over you.” She replied, and handed you the shorts. As you began to wiggle them up she quietly added “Oh, and Rhett’s going to be there.”

You froze in place, glaring at your friend. “WHAT? Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t believe you.” Rhett fucking Abbott. The cowboy that you had been crushing on since middle school. Ever since the day he saw you walking home late after babysitting for a little cash and offered, no insisted, on walking you home. He was a few years ahead of you and happened to be friends with your older brother. Anytime he would come round your house to see your brother you would find yourself with your ear pressed to your door, trying to catch any of the words he was saying. Your eyes always seemed to wander outside your window to see if he was out back throwing a ball around with your brother. Once you even caught a glimpse of him shirtless after coming over to help your mom with some yard work.

Needless to say, your crush on Rhett didn’t get any better. In high school, you went out of your way to see him in the halls, or to accidentally run into him on your way home from work. You even went as far as to offer to tutor him in algebra, a class you yourself were failing. He wasn’t too keen on getting your help once your brother told him about that.

Now, Rhett had grown up and you had too. You would see him from time to time at the bar you worked at, always polite and asking about your family. And even now, you couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted whenever he was around. Some crushes just don’t go away.

“You’ve been into him since 8th grade! I can’t believe you haven’t made a move yet. It’s time to put your big girl panties on and do something. Hell, screw someone else for all I care. All I know is that if I have to watch you make puppy dog eyes at Rhett from across a room one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.” Sadie said. But that was the problem. No matter how many guys you went out with, or screwed, you always came back to Rhett. Honestly, you could see why it was so exhausting for your friend to watch all the time, it was a bit pathetic being a grown woman with a crush from middle school.

Deciding to listen to your friend and do something about your pining over him, you buttoned up your shorts and turned to look in the mirror. Sadie was right, they don’t fit as they did in high school. Where they used to be a bit loose on you, they now held on to every curve you had. Damn, when did you get an ass? Swallowing your nerves, you shoved your feet into your white boots that only appeared on special occasions. To top it off, you threw on an old flannel opting to tie it up and undo the top couple of buttons to let a bit of your cleavage spill out.

“Now, that is hot. He’s going to be drooling over you, just wait” Sadie hyped you up. She reached up and messed your hair up just a bit, giving it a wind-swept look before ushering you out to her truck.

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After driving for a half hour, Sadie pulled into a dirt parking lot. You saw lights flashing, and heard cheering coming from the stadium seats. She took you to a fucking rodeo. Dressed in booty shorts.

“This is a joke. I look like a goddamn buckle bunny for christ's sake.” You curse out to her. She has the audacity to simply smirk back and says,

“Bout time you start acting like one.” And with that, she was out of the car and walking towards the show. With no other option but to sit and stew in the truck all night, you reluctantly hop out too. You curse under your breath and begin to tell Sadie that this is the last time you go anywhere with her without knowing before what she had planned.

Walking into the crowd, you felt your throat dry. You could feel people staring and you swore you heard a whisper that said “Is that Bruce’s daughter, Y/N?”. Suddenly, you became very interested in kicking the gravel under your boots.

Sadie did her best to reassure you, grabbing your hand and weaving you to a back lot. The crowd was sparse back here, and it looked like most of the guys hanging around were bull riders getting ready. “I don’t think we should be back here,” you said into Sadie’s ear and moved to pull your hand out of her grasp. But before you could she whipped you back around.

“This is it Y/N. Scout out which one of these boys you’re going to be riding tonight” She said with a wink. You let your eyes briefly scan the group. None of them noticed you two seeing as you were tucked a ways away. You made out a few familiar faces but you had no desire to talk to, let alone seduce, any of these guys. As you opened your mouth to inform your friend of this, your eyes caught something. Not something, but someone.

Standing slightly turned away from you and chatting with some other rider, you saw Rhett. Maybe it was because you only got to see him in dim-lit bars nowadays, but you swore he somehow was more attractive than you remembered.

He wore a blue flannel with the sleeves rolled up, allowing you to see the veins run down his arms. You got a flash of the tattoo on his forearm, the one you imagined so often at night when thinking of him. He had his chaps on, the fringe down the sides fluttering ever so slightly in the wind. His signature black hat was perched on his head. At that moment, you swear you could’ve died.

You didn’t realize how long you had been staring until Sadie gave you a nudge. “Close your mouth or you’ll attract flies,” she said. It was then you noticed that you in fact had been standing there with your jaw on the floor admiring this man. Your eyes stayed locked on his figure as you gave him a once-over. God, he was gorgeous. Even with the layers of clothes he had on you could tell how lean and strong he was.

As your gaze made your way back up to his face, you were now looking right into his bright blue eyes. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He caught you. He fully caught you drooling over him. And just when it couldn’t get any worse, the fucker had a smirk plastered on his face and sent a wink your way. You averted your eyes and pretended you weren’t there, feeling a hot blush creep up your neck. But just when things couldn’t get any worse, you heard Sadie yell out, “Hey there Rhett”.

You silently prayed to the gods above that he wouldn’t walk over to you two, but it fell on deaf ears as you heard the crunch of gravel grow louder. Next thing you know he’s standing right smack in front of you. “Hi there Sadie, how’s your ma?” he asked, his southern drawl heavy.

“She’s well, thanks for asking. You know Y/N right? You were friends with her brother growing up” Sadie tried to segue. You forced yourself to bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Well of course I do, how could I forget a face as pretty as that?” Your eyes snapped to meet his. No way, there was no way Rhett Abbott was flirting with you. He was just being nice, that’s all.

“Oh um, hi. Good to see you.” You muttered out, full of nerves. Sadie cleared her throat and you thought back to her earlier lecture. Maybe it was finally time for you to get out there. Stop playing it so safe all the time. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself. So with some more confidence mustered you blurted out “I hope you do good tonight. I’m sure you will.”

Without missing a beat he responded, “Oh now that I know you’re here I definitely will. Always ride better when I know a gorgeous girl like you is watching.” His words sent heat blooming between your thighs. Fully committing to the act you took a step toward him and leaned up onto your toes to whisper in his ear.

“Well if you win, we’ll have to celebrate. Why don’t you come to find me after you finish up? Let me give you a victory prize.” You did your best to put on the most sultry voice you had. And despite the confidence you were exuding, you were scared shitless deep down. As soon as the words left your mouth, you were off. You swayed your hips a bit as you went to find a seat, knowing that he would be looking.

You didn’t dare look back until you reached the arena seats. Sadie guided you to sit down amongst the crowd, all waiting for the show to begin. And just as she opened her mouth to ask you what happened you whisper out “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad at all.” She whispered trying to not draw any attention.

“Oh no. It was bad. Very very very bad. Can’t show my face around here again bad. Have to leave the country bad.” You felt bile rise up in your throat. You turn to your friend and recount to her what you had just told the man of your dreams. It was like word vomit, you couldn’t stop freaking out and rambling.

“Y/N. STOP. Take a breath. The worst case he says no, he leaves once he’s done tonight. At least you know you tried. But you’re forgetting that he could be just as into you. And from the way he was talking it sounds like he is. So it’s going to be fine. He’s fine, you’re fine. All we can do is sit and try to enjoy the show.” Sadie reasoned with you. And you knew she was right. So you sat there, ass freezing from the cool metal bleachers. The more you thought about her words, the more you were able to calm yourself down. What’s done is done, and you rather be rejected than never know.

The soothing mindset you were in came crashing down the second Rhett’s name rang out. He was heading out for his final ride of the night. You felt your mind go blank and body numb as you focused on the arena in front of you. Honestly, you knew very little about bull riding but the way his muscles strained and body twisted was enough to keep you interested. Timed seemed to slow as you stared at him squeezing his hips to stay on the bucking bull.

After what felt like minutes of him being tossed around, you gasped as he was uprooted from his saddle. You knew that was bound to happen with any bull riding venture, but it still startled you to see him thrown about like that. He was yanked up and led out of the arena until the bull was wrangled. When he walked back out, your tension eased seeing he was unharmed.

You locked eyes on the scoreboard and nearly fell out of your chair when you saw his score. He won, holy shit he won. You were on your feet in an instant, screaming your head off. You felt a rush of pride for him, knowing how much his bull riding meant to him. Sadie jumped with you, and you were sure you were the loudest there.

After yelling for much too long to be appropriate, Sadie gave your arm a tug. “Come on” and you, still being in a blissed-out state, let her take you back to where you first ran into Rhett that night. You looked around in the dark, eyes wide anticipating what would happen next. A chill ran up your spine as you thought about your earlier promise to Rhett if he won. Startled out of your thoughts, you heard the sound of whooping and cheers from some men around you. Cranking your neck around you spotted him.

He was caked in dirt and his sleeves were hastily pushed up, hat askew on his head that was tilted back with a wide grin. Your mouth ran dry as butterflies erupted inside you. His eyes began to scan the small crowd of people before landing on you. Burning with embarrassment and admittedly desire, you shifted your eyes elsewhere. But soon enough, you heard that all too familiar voice. “Hey there ladies.”

“Hey Rhett, congrats on the big win. Y/N and I were cheering you on” Sadie said.

“Oh, I bet y’all were. Hey Y/N, can I talk to you real quick?” Rhett turned and asked you.

With a nod of your head, he gently took your hand and pulled you under a nearby tree. Still too shy to make eye contact, he brushed his hand under your jaw and turned you to look into his blue eyes. “You know I don’t expect anything. If you want to act like nothing happened earl-”

“No” you rush out. “No, I mean I want to. If you do.” Talking to just him and him alone felt so much easier. You felt your confidence grow back and expectantly looked at him.

“Well darlin’ I would want nothing more. You want to go back to your place for a bit?” He questioned, still being gentle with you as to give you an out if you changed your mind.

“Yes please,” you murmur. You felt as though you were floating when he wrapped a strong arm around your waist and led you back over to Sadie.

“Hey Sadie, you alright if I take Y/N home? Just figure it would be nice for us to catch up.”

“Oh, sure! By all means, go ‘catch up’” Sadie had the cockiest smirk plastered on her face, and while you wanted to be mad at her for it you also know she was the whole reason you were going home with Rhett Abbott tonight.

Walking out to the parking lot, Rhett keeps his arm firmly around your midsection till you arrive at his truck. He opens the passenger door for you before walking around and getting in himself. The roar of the engine coming to life jolts you forward a bit, remembering that you were in fact about to go home and get railed by the hottest cowboy you’ve ever seen.

“What are you thinking about Bunny?” Rhett can tell you were getting lost in thought.

“What did you call me?” Surprised by the nickname and the way it made you clench your thighs even tighter.

“Bunny. You look like a buckle bunny in that getup. But it’s cute, I like it on you.” He answered honestly. On any other occasion, you would’ve been pissed that someone thought of you as a buckle bunny. You grew up on a ranch in rural Wyoming, you were the farthest thing from a buckle bunny possible. But the way Rhett talked about you made you melt.

“Oh yeah. Blame Sadie. Wanted me to get myself out there more I guess.” You replied chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well, it was definitely nice to see you outside of the bar you work at. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for the longest time but I felt weird bothering you at work.” You whipped your head around at the confession.

Staring at his side profile as he continued to drive, “That’s nice of you to say, but it’s okay you don’t have to lie.” You didn’t believe it. That a man like Rhett would be interested in talking to someone like you.

“I’m not lying. I’ve always kinda liked you. But I guess I just never acted on them. And I know we’re on our way to your place so I can rail the shit outta ya, but I’m not just interested in sex from you. Let me take you out one night? It took me long enough to make a move on you, don’t make me wait any longer.” He said with the utmost sincerity. You were stunned. Shocked. All this time you two idiots both liked each other, and it was a rodeo and a plotting friend to finally make you realize it.

“I would like that. A lot.” You smile up at him as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

Cutting off the engine, Rhett runs around to open your car door. Always a gentleman. You laced your fingers with his as you tug him upstairs to your place. You feel him placing teasing kisses on your neck and jaw when he can reach you. You giggle, moving even faster to get up the 3 flights of stairs.

When you reach the door of your apartment, you fumble around looking for your keys in your purse. When you manage to grab them, you pull them out with shaking hands cursing as they fall to the ground. Before you could bend down to retrieve them, Rhett already has them scooped up. He chuckles softly before resting his hand on your shoulder and rubbing your arm soothingly.

“You don’t need to be nervous Bunny. But I want to ask you again, are you okay with this?” He asks kindly, eyes soft and hands warm.

“More than okay.” And you pull him down by his shirt to crash your lips onto his. It was messy and desperate. Teeth clashed and tongues battled for dominance. You slid your hands up Rhett’s neck and into the curls at the back of his head tugging softly. His one arm wrapped around you and pulled you impossibly closer to his body. You recognize the faint jingle of keys through your fuzzy headspace and realize he was unlocking your front door with his tongue down your throat.

The door soon swung open and Rhett began to push your intertwined bodies inside. Stumbling in, you hear a door slam behind you before he has you pushed against a wall. His leg came in between yours, knee and thigh pressing up into your core. You let out a whine into the kiss, the feeling of him making you even wetter. In fact, you were sure you were absolutely drenched.

Seemingly reading your mind, Rhett broke the kiss to ask, “How wet are you Bunny? How wet does the idea of my cock have you? Bet you were sitting in those stands all night just soaking wet.” You merely moan in response, your brain not working fast enough to form actual words. Rhett brings his lips to your neck biting and sucking hickies into your smooth skin. You run your hands down his back to the hem of his shirt. Too impatient to unbutton his top, he leans back and pulls it over his head.

You knew Rhett was strong. After years of working at the ranch and bull riding, you expected him to be pretty muscular. But the actual sight of his abs, sharp and all edges, makes your mouth water. You tentatively place a hand on his toned chest. God, it looked like his body was made of chiseled marble. Under your hand, you feel his warmth radiating and the steady beat of his heart. When you force yourself to pull your eyes up to his, he says “Your turn.”

He places his hands on the bottom of your shirt, eyes silently asking if he could take it off. Your hands reach down and cover his, urging him to swiftly remove your top. His eyes immediately move to your breast, covered in the white lace of your bra (if you could even call the small scrap of fabric that). You hear a faint groan come from him before he ducks his head down. Placing open mouth kisses along the top of your tits, he brings his right hand up to palm your breast and roll your nipple. His mouth goes lower and latches onto the other nipple through the lace of your bra.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to you. It’s not enough. You’ll never have enough of him. Soft moans tumble past your lips and Rhett takes this a cue to keep going. Eventually he pulls off and uses a hand to unclasp your bra as it falls to the ground. Getting a full view of your tits, Rhett brings both his hands to them and gives them one last squeeze before kissing your lips once again. Getting frustrated and wanting, no needing, more you drag your hand to his ripped figure. Your fingers trailed down the wide expanse of his chest and trace down his happy trail until you reach the waistband of his jeans. Popping the button and pulling down the zipper, Rhett helps you by tugging his jeans down as fast as he can. He kicks them off, leaving him in his tight boxer briefs. A tent is growing in them and you let out a gulp at the size of him.

“Don't be scared honey, I’ll stretch you real good before I fill you up” his voice fills the air. Excited at the idea, you grab his arm and drag him farther into your apartment and to your bedroom. You pull him in front of you and push him down on the bed causing him to look up at you. Reaching to your shorts, you nearly rip down your legs ready for him to touch you. Before you can pull your panties down, Rhett reaches out to them. He rubs his calloused hands over your hips and yanks you so you have no option but to straddle his figure. “Bunny, with panties like that I don’t think I could stand you not wearing them as I fuck you.”

You whimper at his words alone and he lets out a chuckle. He runs hands up your back and suddenly you are flipped over onto your back, Rhett now looming over you. Scooting down the bed, Rhett's face lands between your legs throwing them over his shoulders. He moans when he sees the wet spot that seems to be growing on your panties, landing wet kisses on your inner thighs. You think how could someone make a sound so beautiful. But you are quickly pulled from this as he tugs your pink panties to the side and takes in the full view of you. His eyes darken and he rasps out “Holy shit baby, you are so goddamn hot. I might come in my fucking boxers,” and he subtly grinds his hips into the mattress in attempt to get some much needed friction. Opening your mouth to make some teasing comment, you instead let out a cry as Rhett licks a bold stripe up your pussy. He lands on your clit, tongue moving in figure eights over top. For the second time that night, you find yourself pulling Rhett by his hair closer to you. He then alternates between lightly fucking his tongue into your dripping hole and brutally attacking your clit. The duality of pleasure causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

Rhett places the tip of his finger at your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds first to get it slicked up. He breaches your entrance and your toes curl as he slides knuckle deep. “Fuck, oh my god Rhett please please, keep going,” pathetic pleas fall from you. You feel him adjust his thick digit in you until he finds that spongy spot that has your back arching. “Right there- right fucking there.” Any other night you would be embarrassed that someone has you so close to coming with one finger, but right now you could care less, only able to focus on the increasing burn in your stomach.

You can practically feel Rhett smirk against you as he eases a second finger into you, again going directly to that sweet spot inside you. He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you, still using his mouth to suckle your clit. You are screaming in pleasure, babbles of “please” and “don’t stop” leaving your mouth. The coil inside of you is close to snapping. You are so close, so unbelievably blissed out. “I’m gonna cum Rhett. I’m so close” you speak out in warning.

But just as close to the edge as you were, all the pleasure you felt was quickly ripped from you as Rhett removed himself from you. You glare down, sweat dripping down your forehead. “What? Why did you stop?” you croak out, voice already strained from your screaming.

“Oh Bunny. I want the first time you cum to be on my cock.” Rhett responds and leans up to place a hot kiss on your mouth. You deepen the kiss, wanting more of him. You can taste yourself on his mouth and soon he pulls back to say “You like that dirty girl? Like the taste of your sweet pussy? You should, it’s the best pussy I’ve ever got my mouth on.” You feel yourself clench at his dirty talk, managing to turn you on even more. You whimper and try to buck your hips up to encourage him to do something, do anything. Instead he just laughs, “Oh you are so desperate Bunny. Need me to fuck your tight pussy, make you cum so hard you can only yell out my name. Don’t worry Bunny, I’ve got you.” As he speaks he wiggles himself out of his boxers, hard cock slapping his tanned abs.

He props himself onto his forearms and brings a hand to his mouth. Your eyes widen as he spits into his hand and reaches down to pump himself a few times. Noticing your reaction he looks at you. “Open your mouth” and you obey, sticking your tongue out for good measure. You feel something wet hit your mouth before you process that he just spit into it. Rhett Abbott just spit in your mouth. And you swallowed, savoring the taste of him. “Good Bunny” he says into your ear.

“Rhett. Fuck me.” You whine out. Now it’s his turn to moan, finally sheathing his cock into your cunt. You gasp at the stretch and he waits a few moments for you to adjust. After a second you whimper out “Move please.” And Rhett doesn’t need to be asked twice, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back inside you. The force of his thrusts push you up the bed despite Rhett’s bruising grip on your hips.

“You feel so good baby. Squeezing me so tight. Best fucking pussy.” he praises and you clench around him. “Oh baby, you love when I talk dirty. When I tell you how amazing this cunt is. Going to make it mine, never letting anyone else near my pussy again.” You are pathetically whining and thrashing. Your nails are raking down his back, surely leaving welts in their wake. He clashes his lips onto yours and picks up his pace. The brutal fucking makes you feel like you’re floating. He licks into your mouth as you let out a steady set of moans and cries.

Just when you think things can’t get any better, Rhett snakes his hand down to rub tight circles into your clit. Paired with his cock repeatedly hitting the sweet spot inside you, you know the knot in your tummy is starting to unravel.

“Rhett” you whine, “Rhett, I’m so close.”

“Come on baby, make a mess on my dick. Wanna feel you cum” He responds.

Clamping down on him, you are brought even closer to the edge. Eyes tightly shut, you turn your head to the side and let out a moan louder than you thought was possible. No one had ever made you feel this good before. You couldn’t even believe that it was the man you had been crushing on for years that was in your bed, in your pussy. And with that reminder of who it was that was fucking you better than you’ve been fucked before, you saw white behind your eyelids. As you reached your peak, heat spreading all the way through you, you couldn’t help but yell out, “Cum Rhett, let me make you feel good. Wanna be good for you, only for you.”

Unable to resist your fucked out babbles, Rhett ruts into you. Once he knows you’ve finished riding out your orgasm he pulls out from you. Furiously fisitng his cock, he groans out reaching his own release. White ropes of his seed spurt out and land across your tits and you mewl out at the warm, sticky substance coating you. Teasingly, to bring two fingers down to swipe through his release and bring them up to your mouth. You suck on the cum from your fingers, loudly moaning at the salty taste. Both panting hard, Rhett adjusts your panties back, flops over and lays next to you. “Shit y/n. That was amazing. Was it good for you?” And you blink hard through your fuzzy mind searching for a response.

“So good. The best, I think you succeed. Definitely ruined anyone else for me.” Rhett laughs at that. Abruptly, you are filled with a new feeling. It’s warm, cozy. You blush and you realize just how much you have fallen for this cowboy next to you.

You get lost in the idea that this is the start of something real between you two. No longer will you have to pine for him from afar. He likes you, he wants to be with you. You are consumed by him, forever connected you think. No matter what, he’ll always be there. He’s not leaving. And it’s that thought that brings you so much happiness and lets your body relax completely.

A wet towel between the valley of your breasts pulls you from the daydream. Rhett has at some point gotten up and found something to clean you two with. You melt, heart softening at how kind and caring he was being. God, you were so lucky.

The two of you cuddle up and spend the next hour talking about random things. Your favorite movies, what your go to karaoke song is, what you plan to do in the future. And it is easy, it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. And when your eyelids become heavy, you find yourself slipping into a peaceful sleep listening to the beat of Rhett’s heart.

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intoanotherworld23 · 10 months

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Chasing The Shadows

Pairing: Reader x Robert Floyd

Warnings: Mentions of killing and death, and description of violence, some minor kissing, swear words

Summary: When a deadly new virus breaks out into the world you and Bob Floyd fight for survival and for each other

Okay y’all this is someone completely new I’m writing for so you’ll have to let me know what you think of it so far! Hearts, reblogs, and comments are highly encouraged and appreciated! If you wish to be tagged for Lewis Pullman or this series let me know! IM TAGGING EVERYONE ON MY TAG LIST FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER SO IT CAN REACH A BIGGER AUDIENCE! Thank you everyone so much I love you all! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"What's on the news?" Asking your husband as you plopped down on the couch a beer in hand passing him one.

"Somethin about a virus." He responded as he took a swig of his drink. "Already making its way into the states."

"A virus?" You questioned him as you looked over at him. "What kind of virus?"

"I don't know sounds like the flu or something." Shrugging your shoulders as you both continued to listen. Nothing was really being said about anything so it really peaked your curiosity as to what was really going on.

"Please the flu never really makes it through this town anyway." You scoffed hearing that. "Even if it did they wouldn't talk about it on the news."

"Well maybe if you stop talking and listen they'll tell us." He said making you lean back in exaggeration as you glared at him.

"What did you just say to me?" Placing your hands on your hips.

"You heard me." He mocked you as you opened your mouth partially lightly smacking his shoulder making him laugh. "Shhh there talking."

"You asshole." You joked both of you chuckling.

"Sources say this deadly virus is already spreading across the nation faster than the flu." Sighing loudly as that thought went out the window. "From what we've been told the major symptoms are high fever, rage, uncontrollable hunger, and swelling of gums."

"Jesus Christ what the hell kind of virus is this?" Bob asked leaning forward his elbows on his knees.

"Hospitals are filled with people all showing the same symptoms and doctors can't seem to figure out what the cause of this virus is."

"This definitely sounds worse than any flu I've heard of." Placing a hand on your chin eyes glued to the tv now.

"Hope they find the sorry son of a bitch who brought it here." Bob quipped as he quickly glanced at you.

"If he isn't already dead." Whispering but Bob still heard you anyway as he glanced at you with concern. "What?"

"Nothing." Stopping himself from really saying what was on his mind.

In that moment neither one of you really knew what to say or how to react exactly. This was the kind of stuff you saw on fantasy shows that had people wondering what if. Both of you were a little scared how how serious it sounded. Figuring you weren't the only ones who were feeling the same way.

"What should we do?" Whispering as you felt fear creeping up behind you. "Should we leave?"

"No I say we stay here until things calm down." Bob suggested sounding calm but you knew by the look on his face he was worried.

"Doesn't sound like things are gonna calm down soon."

"I bet in less than six months all that panic will have been for nothing." Bob shrugged his shoulders leaning back into the couch.

"Well there's no way in hell I'm gonna stay cooped up in this house for six months." You argued crossing your arms over your chest.

"State officials are asking that everyone stay inside and don't go out unless absolutely necessary." Bob looked at you with a proud smirk shaking your head at him with a giggle. "The only way to contract this unknown contagious virus is by being bitten or scratched."

"We'll just have to avoid being bitten or scratched." He joked nudging your shoulder.

"Please Robert don't joke this is serious." Keeping your focus on the news watching as they showed videos of different people being wheeled into hospitals and people driving by neighborhoods showing people losing control in their front lawns.

"I am taking it serious darlin." His tone softened when he could see the serious look on your face. "I'm sorry."

"Shit you'd think it was the end of the world or something." Bob shook his head as the newscaster continued to speak.

"Well it damn well looks that way." Showing a group of people already torching a building.

"Fucking hell." Bob exclaimed.

"Everyone is gonna lose their fucking minds once they all watch this." Taking a swig of your beer. "You remember what happened with that snow storm last year people wiped out everything in stores within days."

"Imagine what they'd do if we had an apocalypse." You continued feeling Bobs eyes on you.

"Baby I seriously doubt this is the apocalypse." Feeling an arm wrap around your shoulder pulling you in close. "I'll keep you safe don't you worry."

"I know you will it's just scary." Admitting to him as you felt your eyes tearing up.

"Nothing and nobody is going to even come close to hurting you." Kissing the side of your temple his lips lingered for a few moments.

As the two of you sat there drinking your beer flipping through channel after channel, and all they were talking about was this virus. Even your reality shows were being interrupted by breaking news. You've never seen anything like this before in your life.

Friends and family texting you non stop asking if you were okay. You were just hoping Bob was right about everything will eventually blow over. They'd have to find someway to stop it or at least slow it down. Then everything would go back to normal, and you and Bob would be safe.

"Let's go to bed baby." Bob turned the tv off as he stood up grabbing your hand lifting you off the couch. "Enough of this shit."

"I don't think I can sleep now." Pulling the covers back as you climbed into bed Bob right behind you.

"I know what I can do to help you sleep." Wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

"Babe stop." Giggling as he wiggled his hands to the edge of your pajama bottoms.

"Come on I promise it'll be the best you've ever had." Burying his head in your neck kissing your collarbone trying to move on top.

“You’ve said that one before.” Hands pinching your sides going into a fit of giggles as he started tickling you.

“Better watch that pretty little mouth of yours.” He warned as he hovered his body over yours.

"Bob." Moaning as you felt him grinding on you hands moving along the length of your legs.

Before anything else could continue further a loud boom shook the house cause both you and Bob to look out the windows. Leaning up on your elbows as Bob jumped out to check what the noise was. Watching as he looked around not seeing anything that really stood out.

"The hell was that?" Asking him as you sat up completely.

"I don't know baby I don't see anything." Shaking his head as you walked back over to you. "I think maybe it was a crash or something."

"That sounded a lot louder than a car crash." Timing couldn't have been more perfect as you both heard another crash.

"Robert that's not a crash that sounds like something exploding." Standing up as he walked out of the room to the front door.

Following after him as some of the neighbors were already ahead of you and Bob. Standing on their lawns looking around to see what those noises were, and where they were coming from. Fear was written across everyone's face, and parents tried to keep their children inside.

"Did you see anything?" Bob yelled to the neighbor across the way.

"Looked like an explosion from the center of downtown." He responded watching as Bobs face fell hearing his words.

"Get inside." Bob pointed at you as he jogged in behind you slamming the door shut. "Get inside now."

"What?" You yelled at him as he paced around the room. "Robert what?"

"Sounds like someone is blowing up the town." Covering your mouth with your hand a gasp slipping past your lips.

“What do you mean blowing up?”

“I don’t know there just blowing up the town.”

"We can't stay here." It came out more as a suggestion than a question.

Before Bob could respond his phone started to ring. Walking back into the bedroom picking it up hearing his muffled voice as you just stood there. Feeling like your feet were stuck to the ground, and your body was starting to slowly freeze.

You couldn't believe what you had been seeing and hearing. None of this felt like it was actually happening. Everything went quiet to where you literally could only hear yourself breathing. Your eyes staying open not even able to blink.

"Yeah yeah we'll meet you there." You heard him say as he hung up the phone and came back out to you. "That was my buddy he lives on the other side of town says we should leave he's got a safe house for us to stay at."

"What's going on?" Asking him your voice shaky as your eyes started to water.

"People are destroying the town and police are shooting people down in the streets." His words made your eyes go wide. "There patrolling neighborhoods and refusing to let people leave their homes."

"So then shouldn't we stay here." Whimpering as you could already hear commotion from outside.

"No it's not safe we have to leave now." Running to the closet grabbing a couple of bags. "Take only things that we need."

Handing you a bag you started filling them with medicine, food and bottles of water. Bob filling his with an extra set of clothes and other medical supplies. Once your bag was filled you quickly zipped it and then ran into your room to change into something else, and slipping on a pair of shoes.

Taking a solid minute to think about what was happening. Trying your hardest not to burst into tears. Leaning forward as your head started to spin, and you felt like you were going to be sick. Praying and hoping that this was all some kind of terrifying dream, and you would wake up safe in Bobs arms.

"Here." Bob blurted as he shoved something cold and hard in your hands.

"I've never shot a gun before." Looking at the dark gray steel weapon laying flat in your hands.

"Let's just hope you never have to." Not knowing whether he was telling you that or himself.

It seemed a little overdramatic having weapons, but judging on what you were hearing and seeing weapons were probably necessary. Besides Bob wouldn't just hand you a gun unless he absolutely thought you would need it to protect yourself. Especially if anything were to happen to him.

Setting the bags near the front door as you waited for Bob who grabbed yours and his phones. Bob taking one last look around the house making sure you guys didn't forget anything. Neither one of you knowing when you were going to be back if you would come back at all.

"Let's go baby military is moving in now." He looked up from his phone as you both grabbed a bag and headed to the truck outside.

Throwing your bags into the bed of the truck as you hopped inside. Bob starting the truck pulling out of the driveway and down the road. Looking around to see people loading their vehicles everyone with a look of panic on their faces not knowing what was gonna happen.

None of this felt real in your mind, and almost felt like it was some kind of drill. Maybe you and Bob were acting like everybody else, and just panicking for no reason. Maybe everything would die down in a few days. Or maybe things would only get worse and never end.

"Do you think we'll be able to make it?" You asked Chris after minutes of silence.

"I don't know sweetheart." His answer had your stomach churning. "But I'm gonna do everything in my power to keep us safe."

"How long are we gonna stay there for?"

"Until all of this blows over." Hearing the engine roar as he put his foot hard against the gas pedal.

"What if this never blows over?" Sniffling as a tear ran down your cheek.

"Then we'll stay together no matter what." Answering without hesitation.

"I love you Bob." His hand grabbed yours kissing your knuckles as he kept his eyes on the road.

"I love you too." Remaining calm was his man focus in order to help keep you calm so you didn't start to panic.

Neither one of you spoke the rest of the drive as you got closer to town. People yelling and screaming down the streets some people were even attacking others. If you weren't terrified before you were absolutely petrified now.

People were breaking into buildings, stores, shops, and pharmacies. Leaving them with handfuls of items running away nobody even attempting to stop them. It was pure madness and it was happening right in front of your eyes.

Hearing a loud rumble as you looked up to see a couple of helicopters flying over heading towards the center of town. Most likely military which means they were already in town blocking people from leaving. This was far more worse than you and Bob ever imagined.

Looking down one of the streets to see a military tank blocking anyone from leaving or entering. People filling the streets as they were begging and pleading to leave. Guns being drawn in their face to anyone who dared to get close enough.

"We'll go down this street avoid them as much as possible." Turning down another street that was empty.

"What if there at this safe house already?" Your mind going to worst case scenario.

"They won't." He snapped making you jump a little at his tone. "Besides he would have let us know and we'd go somewhere else."

That's when something started ringing in your ear, and that's when it hit you it was gunshots going off. You didn't want to look back, but you couldn't help it as you heard screams echoing around you.

Regrettably turning back watching as men opened fire on people bodies dropping to the floor, and blood filling the streets. Crying as you faced straight ahead Bob grabbing your thigh massaging it in comfort. Keeping his brave face on knowing exactly what was happening behind him.

He was going to protect you and keep you safe as long as he could. Even if it meant that he had to sacrifice himself to do so he would in a heartbeat. Your safety is a priority to him.

"Are we almost there?" You asked as he turned down a dirt road.

"Yeah baby less than a minute." Nodding his head as you rested your head against the head rest closing your eyes for a quick minute.

All you wanted to do in this moment was just sleep. Sleep and not wake up until all of this was over. Thinking that sleep would help calm your nerves, but in all reality all you would be able to do is just close them and not actually sleep.

Neither one of you prepared for anything like this, and never thought that you'd have to. You and Bob were clueless just like everybody else. The both of you were just going to have to take things one step at a a time, and hope things didn't take a turn for the worst.

"Baby we're here." Bob spoke softly your eyes opening slowly.

Looking forward as you saw a brick house straight ahead. The doors and window were sealed shut with some kind of steel. As Bob parked the car you both cautiously looked around. Everything was eerily quiet, and all you could hear was the sounds of the trees rustling, and the crickets chirping.

"Where is he?" You asked not seeing anyone.

"He's preparing the bunker." Looking over at Bob who was on his phone. "Said wait a minute and he'll be out."

"He's got a bunker hidden in this house?" Looking skeptically at the house raising your brows.

"Yep his old man left him this house." Bob turned to you. "Said it would take a lot more than a couple bombs to get through to this place."

"Gee that's comforting." Sighing out loud making Bob chuckle.

"It's better than being stuck out there baby." He did have a fair point there.

Which was the truth since it sounded like people were going crazy out there. If it meant staying in someone else’s bunker for a while to stay safe then that’s what you were going to have to do.

"God I hate when you're right." Grumbling as he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him.

"Please you love it." Teasing you as he kissing your cheek multiple times.

"Just a little." Pressing your thumb and pointer finger together as you giggled.

"We're gonna be okay baby I can promise you that." Moving a hand up to your head stroking the back of it.

"I know you'll keep us safe." Pressing your hand against his both of you staring at each other.

A door creaked open catching both your attention as your focus now went to the opened door with a man standing in front of it. Bob hopping out of the car as you followed suit. Each grabbing a bag as you walked over to him. Eyeing the man with caution not knowing who he is.

Bob seemed to trust this man enough to do this, and you trusted Bob. Of all the people this guy could have called he chose Bob. Thanking your lucky stars that you would have some place to at least hide when all this is going down.

"Thank you for this Jake it means a lot." Bob patted the man on the back as he nodded.

"Bob this is my girl my wife Y/N." He introduced you the man glancing over to you. "Y/N this is an old very good buddy of mine Jake Seresin."

"The hell do you mean by old?" He scoffed cocking his head to the side.

"Your older than me." Bob joked as he punched his arm.

"Nice to meet you Y/N given the circumstances." Bowing his head down to which you gave a quick nod. "Alright let's head inside."

Following Jake inside the room it was practically empty. Expect for some desks and dressers that were opened and emptied. If you wouldn't have known better you would have thought this house was abandoned.

Your heart was starting to race a little bit more as you were being escorted around the house. Imagining a bunch of men running into the house with guns loaded ready to blow all of you sky high. Your breathing was becoming a little uneven and heavy.

Bob grabbed your hand in his noticing you were looking around and not really paying attention. Looking up at him as he gave you a weak smile and squeezed your hand. Silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.

Jake pulled back what looked like a bookshelf that revealed a metal door. Starting to feel a little hope and relief that things we're going to be okay with you both. Feeling a weight off your shoulders that you would both at least be sheltered.

"Just down these steps are where you'll both stay." He opened the steel door as Bob moved you in front of him hands on your shoulders.

Jake leading the way down a flight of steps turning on some fluorescent lights looking around to see steel walls. Multiples shelves stocked with food and water. Setting your bag down not noticing how dry your mouth was until you were staring at gallon jugs of water.

"This should last you both a couple months." Motioning around to all the food and water. "Here's where you two can sleep."

"And I even brought down some games so you two wouldn't die from boredom." Pointing to a shelf full of board games making Bob laugh. "Can't have any electronics on just in case there tracking."

"Which means turn your phones off." He requested as both you and Bob shut them down and threw them on the beds.

"What are you gonna do?" Bob asked Jake with concern and feeling bad you guys were taking over.

"Stay up top keep an eye on things." Shrugging his shoulders not sounding worried at all. "Make sure nobody gets in."

"Are you gonna be okay?" Bob not satisfied with that answer and worried for his friend.

"If I need you I'll holler brother." Jake joked both of them laughing while your face remained stoic.

"Jake thank you again for this." Bob praised with generosity.

"I would expect you to do the same thing for me." He responded smacking his arm with a grin.

"Absolutely brother." Bob shaking his hand with a loud clap.

"Do they know what kind of virus it is?" You spoke up both heads turning towards you.

"Yeah they do." He nodded his head as he looked down.

Neither you or Bob liked the way he said that or how his body language changed. Turning stiff and rigid like he just walked into something he didn't want to see. He stayed silent for a moment decided whether or not he wanted to tell you.

"What?" You pushed wanting an answer that he was hesitating on answering.

"The living dead."

#Robert Floyd #robert floyd imagines #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x female reader #robert floyd series #robert floyd fic #Lewis Pullman #Lewis Pullman smut #Lewis Pullman imagines #Lewis Pullman fanfiction #Lewis Pullman x reader #Lewis Pullman fic #Lewis Pullman x female reader

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ultralightpoe · 6 months

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Casper - Robert Floyd

Authors Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Word Count: 675

Warnings: none, just a tiny blurb

Description: Small halloween blurb.

This is apart of my Halloween event, stay tuned for a new story every hour! - ADDING A NEW CHARACTER TO MY LISTS, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?????-

Happy Halloween!

“Do you think I look silly?” You ask, coming around the corner where your boyfriend of 3 years is trying to fix his glasses for the costumes. A blush crosses his cheeks when he sees you, and your heart does the same flutter it always does when he smiles.

“Why would you look silly?”

“Well, I don’t know. I never actually hang out with your friends so I don’t know if they are like the ‘all out’ types. You know?”

“.....No?” He looks confused, moving closer to you in easy shuffles.

“I just don’t want to be the only one all dressed up.” You sigh, fixing the hair of your costume. “And end up embarrassing myself.”

“You will be just fine.” He smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m nervous too.”

Bob always had tons of anxiety, even if he hung out with these guys every day, and as silly as it is it does make you feel better that you’re not alone in your anxiety. So you move closer, fixing the collar of his costume and smiling at him.

“Are you ready?”

“Only if you are.”

Bradley’s house was completely decked out in decorations, fog coming out of the front door and loud music blasting from the speakers. Your hand is holding onto Bobs tightly as he leads you up the path, looking back at you once to make sure you are okay before entering the house.

The music surrounds you, the bass rattling through your shoes as Bob nods his head to people passing by.

“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!” Someone to your right shouts, making you jump a bit as Bradley comes into view, dancing in his cheap tourist outfit. There was face paint on his nose to make it look like he had sunscreen on and a crap ton of blush to make it look like the rest of his face is burnt.

A smile crawls across your lips as he does a funny dance, and you see Bob do his own in return.

“Alright, who do we have?” Bradley asks, Natasha and Jake coming up beside him. “You are obviously Priscilla Presley. And Bob over here is…”

“Oh! The dad from caspar.” He smiles, fixing the glasses. “Played by Bill Pullman.”

“That’s freaking awesome-” Bradley smiles, handing you both a bottle of cider beer ,before someone calls him over from the otherside of the room.

The rest of the night follows the same pattern, people recognizing your costume but asking about his, and you knew he was beginning to overthink his choices. So you tried not to let him do that, dragging him to dance and to take shots, by the end of the night you are walking while leaning into each other to keep balance.

“Do you think my costume was silly?”

“No, why?”

“Well, no one knew who I was.” He blushes. “It just feels kind of lame now.”

“I loved your costume, and you look A LOT like Bill Pullman so it works really well.” You smile, stopping him softly and looking at him. “I love your costume and I love that you had the idea in the first place.”

“I just…. Sometimes I feel like you are this iconic person and I’m just…. Like you are too good for me.” He mumbles. “I mean you have this natural cool to you, and I love that but don’t you ever worry I am slowing you down?”

“I feel the same most the time, you know?”

“Oh come on-”

“Seriously! I just spent the night with my professional aviator boyfriend and his professional aviator friends who are actually apart of a top secret program and I spend my night reading smutty romance books.” You explain, moving to wrap your arms around him. “You are not slowing me down.”

“You sure?” He blushes, smiling when you smile. Instead of answering you lean up to kiss him, starting slowly before it deepens. When you finally pull back for air he is panting. “Wanna go watch Caspar now?”

“Thought you would never ask.”

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smalltownfae · 11 months

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I'm counting LotR as just one book so it's not here and I only read one ASOIAF book so it can't enter this.

#booklr #fantasy book series #rote #discworld #nightrunner series #the first law #the poppy war trilogy #shades of magic #his dark materials #gentleman bastards #the chronicles of prydain #sevenwaters #the title is a joke these are only series I read ahah #I am putting broken earth in the scifi poll #my polls

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filmmakerdreamst · 7 months

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How Lyra and Will suffered as Protagonists in BBC's His Dark Materials

Despite the cast and crews open love for the novels, and the insistent diligence to stay as faithful to the source material as possible — even trying to fill in many of the gaps in the books, as seen in all three seasons of the show — the BBC adaptation never manages to capture the spirit (the only time I felt like it did was in the third season) because of the fact that every character is altered and changed. Not just adaptationally changed either like making a character dumber, softer or harder. They’re completely different characters, separated from the source material e.g. Mrs Coulter is changed from a seductive, calm character to a feral, suicidal character. I must admit, I did like the expanded self harm element that she causes her daemon. However I felt in the novel, if she were to harm her monkey, it would be ‘to keep her lust for power at bay’ rather than shame for herself.

The atmosphere was off yet the events were similar and the complete opposite at the same time. But you can’t have similar events play out with different characterisations, at least not with ‘His Dark Materials’.

Philip Pullman’s characters in ‘His Dark Materials’ are extremely charismatic, but to put it lightly, are not very palatable to say the least. As stated in @clarabosswald’s analysis, there seemed to be this weird need to make EVERY single character digestible or palatable in some way or another in the BBC adaptation, regardless of it making sense or not. I noticed this upon my re-read of ‘The Northern Lights’ that they even humanised the doctor that sexually assaulted Lyra by grabbing Pantalaimon, which was very troubling.

Now with the opposing ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’ film, they changed the characterisations to make them more sympathetic and accessible to a contemporary audience. They even dug deeper with the character Edmund which I thought was a fantastic choice. But the reason why those character changes worked was because C.S.Lewis was not concerned with building character, he was much more concerned with the place of Narnia itself. He almost used his characters to explore the world of Narnia, e.g. some characters would leave one book and come back 5 books later — which is why some of the later adaptations of Narnia didn’t do as well in the box office as the first one.

The character changes in that film enriched the story without effecting it in a way, because ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’ and the other books are driven by the plot. Where as ‘His Dark Materials’ is primarily driven by characters.

Philip Pullman in total contrast to C.S.Lewis, built the world (you could say he used the world) around the characters in order for them to get to Point A to Point B. But he was not concerned about exploring the multiverse so you could see the entire picture, like with C.S. Lewis.

I heard once that he described writing as wondering through a forest on a path and the path is your story. Theres a difference between the story world and the storyline. And as an Author, your concern is the storyline. It would be easy to step away and stray from the path and explore the forest and admire all the trees, but for him the most important thing to do was to remain on the path and focus on the story rather than the details along the way.

I’m not apposed to different versions of the characters or different storylines. But with ‘His Dark Materials’, those books are driven by specific character traits. And the fact that they changed them, while still being faithful to the events in the story, the story beats either don’t land or don’t hit as hard or don’t make sense altogether.

More specifically with the main characters Lyra and Will, but mostly Lyra since she’s the heart of the story.

Lyra is first and fourmost a liar, which may seem a small part of her character but its huge. Her ability to lie and get her way out of situations is the cause of many events in the books. She’s feral. She’s wild. She’s manipulative. She’s described as a ‘half wild cat’ and a ‘greedy little savage’. She can’t sit still or behave herself. She’s impulsive. She’s a leader. She gets into fights. She gets dirty. She spends all her nights on the rooftops. She’s an extrovert. She’s street smart. She’s selfish. She’s brave.

She’s an emotional and passionate human being. Thats what makes Lyra a real girl, not just a character on the page. These nuanced character traits of hers is how she pushes everything forward in the story.

All of those negative/positive aspects of her character in the books were watered down so much in the series. To the point where alot of them were removed. Not only is that incredibly dehumanising but makes the plot points where “she lies” not land as well or plot points revolving around her “telling the truth” make no sense at all.

The whole reason why she’s called Lyra Silvertongue is because she tricked the bear king with her lies, a trait which is consistent throughout the entire story — but completely nonexistent throughout the show. Her tricking the bear king in the adaptation came off as a lucky experience rather something that comes naturally to her. Even the ironic plot point of her being given the Alethiometer “a device that tells her the truth” didn’t hit as hard. They tried to establish her as a ‘liar’ in the second episode of season one then gave up completely as the show continued on.

But the weird thing is, those flaws were still mentioned by other characters in the show, when it was not the character they were developing. Characters would mention that she’s a liar, insufferable, selfish or that ‘she doesn’t apologise easily’ — which seemed like an over exaggeration since the show version of her isn’t really any of those things. This applied when characters such as Lee praised her for being ‘brave’ and ‘good’. I heard a HDM podcast recapping season 2 saying that “her character in the show wasn’t hitting the right emotional beats” to be a child of a great destiny that every character seemingly falls over themselves to give their lives for her.

TV Lyra hasn’t completely lost her flaws, but she’s not as nearly as flawed as she was in the books. She felt so contained, rather than passionate. Which felt so odd because yes, Lyra grows out of some bad traits such as her rudeness, due to the influence of Will. But she isn’t naturally like that.

They changed her so much, but also tried to keep her “the same” that her character growth which is huge in the books felt like nothing had moved at all. It kind of got reduced to a simple thing like her innocence being taken away. It was like she wasn’t allowed to have any sort of loud, dislikable reaction in any way. It felt like they were taking away her agency.

And I know one of the biggest reasons why they changed her behaviour in the TV Show is because they aged the character up to 14–16 at the start. I get it. Theres a huge difference between 12 and 14 in terms of maturity . It works for the Will & Lyra romantic scenes as an adaptational choice later in the story (because she’s allegedly 12–13 in the books).

I think Dafne Keen was an inspired choice for the role of Lyra, since I saw some scenes of her in ‘Logan’ and I 100% believe she would of pulled off Book Lyra given the chance, but by the time they started filming she was already 13/14. And in all honesty, Lyra just becomes odd looking older. She’s just not convincing as a misbehaving little girl who can’t sit still, she just comes off as a really strange child thats immature or lacking in social skills. For example, there’s a scene between Mrs Coulter and Lyra in ‘The Idea of North’ where she’s telling a lie, but it doesn’t come off natural because 1. They didn’t establish her as a liar immediately and 2. Part of her ability to lie comes from her spontaneous nature of being a kid telling stories and using her imagination. Dafne Keen didn’t really look that age, for it to look like something she would do.

They also made her relationship with Roger more of a focus in the show, which makes sense as her motivation in the later half of the books comes from wanting to rescue him. However, they made him ‘the only friend that she has’ which I found to be a strange decision because Lyra in the books has tuns of friends. I would say their friendship is more balanced in the series, where as in the book it wasn’t so much.

She forgets him a few times while staying with Mrs Coulter in the book where as she remembers him constantly in the episode ‘The Idea of North’ which felt like a confused choice to me. They were trying to have it both ways; have her be seduced by Mrs Coulter while also actively asking her to look for Roger.

The imbalance in Roger and Lyra’s friendship is important because it adds to the need to set things right with him in The Land of the Dead. It goes to the core of how everyone thinks she is selfish. She needs to save Roger to prove to herself she’s a good person.

In the book, when Lyra dreams of Roger in The Land of the Dead, the two of them have constant talks of how much he’s suffering. In the show, she just has alot of ambiguous flash forward dreams of Roger, with the story not prioritising them as important as the main plot of ‘Asriel’s War’.

When she brings this up to Will in the episode, he dismisses it instead of agreeing to go (like in the book) because of his daddy issues, no I’m sorry, because of Asriel’s War which makes sense as it’s one of the main plots in the season — where it was more of a distracting B plot in the book — but it just kind of adds to the idea that “its unnecessary” or “why are they doing this?”.

The desire to get to Roger and apologise in the show doesn’t hit as hard because there was more of a balance in Lyra and Rogers relationship plus the changes to her character just made it seem like “she just wanted to do it” rather than it being the most important decision she ever makes, to try to better herself.

While they go to the suburbs of the dead, Will and Pan constantly question why she’s doing this (a conflict that was not in the book — Will is steadfastly loyal to her by this point and Pan is too shivery to speak) while Lyra just snaps at them, making her seem mean for no reason. When she has a chat with her death, she doesn’t lie that an angel told her to do it (because they didn’t establish her as a liar properly), she just says that she wants to be good which is not a convincing argument considering what happens next.

When Pan and her have the argument while she leaves him on the doc, which is a great scene on its own (it made me cry), it also adds to the unnecessary nature of it all. It’s a scene that makes sense in the book because of Lyra’s impulsive nature, but because of her seemingly calculative nature in the show, it just looks odd. It’s described in the book that if Lyra had heard Pan speak, she would have folded and never would of got on the boat, but since the show did the complete opposite of that, It makes the scene more harsh and cold.

I think what the writers were trying to do was make it more of a mystery like ‘why is she doing this’ ‘its not too late to turn around’ a mission that appears fruitless at first, but turns out to be the greatest act of humanity — but again, I still don’t think that works because of how much Lyra’s entire character is changed. The act is not just for everyone else. It’s a major step in her character growth, to care about others.

In the Land of the Dead, obviously they had to cut out the whole section where Lyra literally looses her ability to lie while she’s telling lies to the harpies, then learns to tell the truth to the dead. This is the final step for Lyra’s character, finally learning the power of telling the truth instead of lies. They didn’t replace that with anything, only with her telling the dead true stories, which was heartwarming on its own, but obviously those story beats don’t hit as hard in the same way because like I said, its not presented as the final step in her character growth, its presented as a one off scene. This is one of the reasons why her character is pretty static in the adaptation.

In the Land of the Dead, its Lyra for the most part (apart from one instance) that keeps a cool head, while Will looses his — which again, the complete opposite. In the books, its Lyra that goes off the rails and its Will that keeps her centred.

Which brings me onto how the character of Will is changed in the adaptation, and how that effects the story from the second book onwards.

Will was brought in by Philip Pullman in ‘The Subtle Knife’, to represent Lyra’s other half — in another parallel universe literally, and also to help her on her quest to fulfil the prophecy. If it was just her on her own with Pan, it wouldn’t work and would fail.

Though I was taken aback by his entrance in ‘The Subtle Knife’ — as it was such a jarring change coming from the suspenseful cliff hanger where Lyra walks into the new world after her best friend Roger got murdered — he quickly but surely became my favourite male literary character of all time.

I don’t have as a big of a problem with his character changes then I do with Lyra, because there were at least a few times in the show where he was allowed to act like ‘himself’. Amir Wilson was perfect casting as Will. It was like the character had just walked off the page it was that good. But all together, he’s a completely different character — which I can understand. Out of all the characters, I feel he’s the hardest to pin down and his development is done in a subtle and subconscious way.

Throughout the course of ‘The Subtle Knife’, he’s incredibly off putting as he’s mostly angry and tired and then he’s in pain because of his knife wound. It works in a book format, because your’e in his point of view and you understand that he’s a child thats at the end of his tether. But it would be hard to portray that in a nuanced way on screen, unless your’e clever with it.

They unfortunately took the easy route with his characterisation on screen by making him softer. Not only that, the writing for his character was incredibly inconsistent at times.

Will from the books is fierce. He’s frightening. He’s stoic. He gets angry. He’s a strategist. He does whats best for someone. He likes to stay invisible. He’s sarcastic. He’s an introvert. He likes to stay hidden. He’s practical. He’s a child carer. He’s naturally aggressive e.g. He beat up a bunch of boys at school because they were hurting his mother. He hardly smiles. At times, especially in the second book, he becomes incredibly depressed. He’s pretty much a 35 year old man in a young boy’s body. He’s incredibly soft, but the reader can’t tell until Lyra brings that out in him.

I would say Will is a more contained version of Lyra, yet the complete opposite of her. They’re like yin and yang. They both have something that the other lacks, and that helps them both grow up. Lyra brings out a softness out in him, brings out his impulsive nature where as he helps her strategise and learn not to just rush out and do things.

TV Will suffers from the same problem that TV Lyra does.

Every negative/positive aspect about him is watered down. Revealing a quite mild character. I feel that they didn’t touch on the fact that he was a child carer enough, which is a huge part of his character. It just came off as ‘he loves his mum’ more in the show. Will being a caterer is supposed to contrast Lyra whom didn’t grow up with parents and got to live out a childhood that he was never allowed to experience. This is a theme. Every character trait that contrasts Lyra in the books isn’t present so much. I would even go as far to say that they’re too similar in the TV Show.

I was wondering throughout the second season why the storyline was static and wasn’t going anywhere. Certain plot points such as Will being a murderer, Lyra helping Will find his father, The fight for the subtle knife and Will becoming the bearer of the Subtle Knife felt tacked on or weren’t hitting as hard as they should.

At first, I thought it was because the novel was ‘the weakest in the trilogy’. I often see ‘The Subtle Knife’ as a bridge between both ‘Northern Lights’ and ‘The Amber Spyglass’.

But since re-reading the book, I went ‘Oh my God, its because they changed Will’s character arc’.

TV Will, the more I think about it, does not suit becoming the bearer of the subtle knife. The only times we see him fighting is in the boxing ring. He expresses incredible regret over killing a man instead of brushing it off because he was protecting his mother. Even when he’s under threat, he says ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ He even has to be persuaded to fight. There’s even a moment in the show where he says “Maybe we’re better off not fixing the knife at all.” which kind of dismisses the practical nature of his character in the book. Plus the knife being a part of him, the same way as the Alethiometer is a part of Lyra. Even the remarks that Lyra makes about him being similar to Iorek the armoured Bear don’t make as much sense, because of the fact that he’s softer.

Book Will struggles with his warrior nature, and eventually learns thats not who he wants to be. But he isn’t naturally a soft person. He learns to be through his experiences and his relationship with Lyra. Which is why it was so odd to me that they included the line in the show where Will is saying to his father in the Land of the Dead “You told me that I was a warrior; That I can’t fight my nature. Your’e wrong.” I was just like, what are you talking about? That is so not the character the show had developed. TV Will had hardly been shown to fight anyone of his own free will — it didn’t make sense to me. They were trying to have it both ways. Completely ignoring his basic character traits and flaws, yet still going through the same arc (a somewhat watered down one) one e.g. idolising his dad for his whole life, realising his dad ain’t shit when he meets him, finding Lyra missing, ignoring the task his father set him etc.

Even the task that Lyra has to help Will find his father didn’t land as well because of the fact that the two of them were bonding straight away in the show, instead of it being like ‘oh no we’re stuck with each other’ to this slow process of her and Will learning to trust each other.

I understand that you have to translate Lyra and Will’s relationship alot differently in a Show format, because subconscious development doesn’t really work due to the lack of intimate point of views. Plus it adds to the narrative to flesh out their dynamic alot more on screen. The more something is changed in an adaptation, the more it stays the same.

I have openly praised the shows depiction of their relationship in another analysis I wrote (before i re-read the books) and how I loved how they gave them more soft moments. However, I will admit now that the soft moments that they had in season 2 felt off to me because they weren’t in character. I think, looking back I would of preferred more soft moments if they were in character.

Will’s initial softness towards Lyra in the show is partially to do with TV Lyra being much less feral and less of a threat. As a result their journey is warmer and far less angstier than it was in the books.

And that in turn messes with the tension.

The element of Will being slightly dismissive of her at the start, is important to how certain story beats land. It adds to the ‘OH SHIT’ when Lyra’s been taken and the task that his father set him that he’s been dreaming of his whole life suddenly isn’t important to him anymore. Thats why it’s such a big deal when he spends most of his time through ‘The Amber Spyglass’ looking for her.

But in the season 2 finale, it ends with Will going off into the sunset, presumably to fulfil is fathers wishes. Then in season 3, he finds her missing, goes ‘whoops’ and then there’s a montage of him trying to find her. Then when he does (quite easily) — he goes on about how “since his dad died he’s done none of the things that he asked him to do’ which makes him looking for Lyra within the show feel even more anticlimactic.

Also, this is more of a personal opinion that an analytical one, I did not appreciate when Lyra brought up going to the Land of The Dead, TV Will went “I saved you. I did everything I could to save you. You told me not to but I did it anyway” which felt to me like ‘Wow brilliant, of course you had to save her’

And instead of agreeing to go to the Land of the Dead with her like in the book, they had to insert some tension from ‘The Subtle Knife’ (because they messed with the tension in season 2) and have Will go on a rant about what his dad wanted him to do, Asriel’s war, dismissing Lyra’s wishes and even having him suggest maybe her dad regretted killing her friend.

This is something that Will from the books would never ever say, let alone to the girl that he loves. He’s fully aware how much her dad hurt her and he respects her too much by that point to ever suggest something like that. Even when he does think about ‘what his dad wanted him to do’ he’s still steadfastly loyal to Lyra. They were completely undermining the turning point in their relationship and Will’s character development by adding pointless drama to extend the episodes running time.

As mentioned in a very articulate post by @mamsellechosette24601 ‘the quest to find his father and fulfil his fathers wishes’ isn’t the point at all, its Will letting go of his childhood dreams, of realising what really matters is Lyra all along.

Now I’ve seen in another analysis of the adaptation that their path to falling in love in the show is alot clearer than in the books which I can understand and agree with (to a certain extent) because the books were much more concerned with philosophy than romance. This is true for the romance between Asriel and Marisa in the Book vs the TV Show as well.

The concept behind their relationship remains the same:

“Will and Lyra are very good people who learn to trust each other when they’re at their most vulnerable, they become the only thing they have in a terrifying world of enemies. By the end, when they realise they're in love only to discover they can never be together, they make the mature choice, however hard it may be.”

But their relationship is totally different in the TV Show because of their character changes.

I would say Lyra and Will have more of a enemies to lovers storyline in the books — where as the adaptation version of them doesn’t. The screenwriters clearly tried to iron out alot of the problematic elements, especially in the beginning and focus on them being “friends” more. I’m not apposed to them doing that, but the way they did it ended up muting a few of their scenes together.

I’ve actually made an argument in my other account (against the ‘His Dark Materials’ analysis saying that ‘the adaptation did a much better job at showing when Will and Lyra fell in love’) that their relationship development was a lot subtler in the books because the characters were alot younger and more immature. And that it was more ‘obvious’ in the tv show because they aged the characters up, therefore they could have more mature conversations and scenes together.

This was before I did my re-read.

After re-reading ‘The Subtle Knife’ and ‘The Amber Spyglass’ comparing it with how their relationship is handled in the TV Adaptation. I would actually argue the opposite .

In some ways, the growing romance between the two of them is much more mature (and makes more sense) in the books than in the show, at least to me. Unlike in the TV Show, their relationship never enters into neutral territory, even when they finally learn to trust each other. Theres much less emphasis on their ‘friendship’.

After their brutal first meeting — where they attack eachother — in ‘The Subtle Knife’ Lyra is immediately taken with Will and constantly thinks about him and what he thinks of her. There’s even a moment in ‘The Amber Spyglass’ where she’s trying to hide that she’s in pain while they’re walking (because of all that time she’s been asleep) because she doesn’t want to appear weak in front of him.

The way Lyra and Will meet in the show, is reminiscent of how children meet for the first time. Though quite skeptical of each other, they instantly bond and make friends after 5 seconds, because why wouldn’t they? They’re kids the same age after all. Even though there’s still an element of mistrust there, there’s hardly any conflict between them. They don’t play off each other as much. There is one moment where he gets angry at her for making him wait, but all that is solved in a minute because of Lyra’s ‘calm nature’

Even when Lyra gives Will away by accident and says that she lost the Alethiometer, he doesn’t shout at her. There are few comments here and there but theres no real tension between the two of them.

When Will and Pan have a conversation, its presented as Pan going up to him to have a chat after he had a bad dream rather than Will finding the courage to speak to him in the book and saying ‘I think Lyra’s the best friend I’ve ever had’. This is presented more as a statement in the show because their friendship has already been established and less of a discovery (as he wasn’t reacting to her that much in the book as he had alot on his mind).

Lyra and Will even have a talk about Pan’s conversation with him afterwards in the show. But in the book, that never happened. It’s mentioned later but never discussed, because of the fact that it was a private conversation between Will and Pan.

You could say this was another problem that the adaptation had. It’s mentioned multiple times ‘YOU CAN’T TOUCH SOMEONES DAEMON’ but not emphasised why thats the case.

In the books, it’s heavily implied that touching someone else’s daemon is the equivalent of touching someone’s genitals. There’s a moment in ‘Northern Lights’ where Lyra and Iorek find Tony in the fish house without a daemon and Pan wants to comfort him but holds back because of the taboo. Thats why it’s such a big deal when Pan comforts Will and starts licking him in the book.

In the show, its quite an underwhelming scene that lasts 5 seconds where Pan strokes Wills fingers and Lyra says in a quiet voice ‘In my world, your’e not supposed to touch someone else’s daemon but you didn’t do something wrong’

And don’t get me started on the 5 second panning away shot where they’re finally touching each others daemons, instead of the moving moment from the book. It didn’t feel like they really understood the gravity of what those scenes meant and what it meant for their connection.

Again, this is more of a personal opinion. Near the end of the final book, when they enter the world of the Mulefa, Lyra and Will trust each other more than they ever have, which shows how much they’ve both grown since ‘The Subtle Knife’. Mary even describes that she never saw ‘more trust on a persons face’. But in the show, there’s this weird forced tension between them for the sake of ‘romance’. They’re suddenly awkward teenagers with each other — which was not a choice that I liked because it didn’t come naturally.

And when they have to be ripped from each other, a whole page worth of them bargaining to be together is turned into ‘I didn’t think it was possible to feel this bad.’ and ‘This is all wrong’, plus Mary and Serafina being weirdly insensitive while Will and Lyra are in different locations rather than being with each other.

This is possibly why I didn’t feel anything when they had to be forced apart because, the way it was handled felt rushed and soulless.

Overall, despite there being more ‘soft moments between the two of them’ Show Lyra and Will’s connection feels alot more shallow and simplified.

In the books, I got the vibe that even though they were very young, you couldn’t imagine them being with anyone else but with each other. They were each others other half. They were essentially the only family they had in a world full of enemies. There was never a moment in the books, where they weren’t already in love with each other to some degree. It went beyond the typical romantic duality.

In the show, it felt more temporary. This is mostly due to their character changes (they were too similar in my opinion). Like a connection between friends that became romantic at the end of the journey. And it’s something they’ll get over because “It won’t always feel like this” or “Its much more romantic to live for love than to die for it” or “It might not seem like it now but you have a future”

I think that was one of my main problems with the TV Show, it lacked emotion. Not just as an adaptation, but in general.

More than anything, the adaptation felt too confused. It was trying to reimagine the story while also paying homage to the original material. And thats why overall — despite my enjoyment for some of the episodes especially in season 3 — it didn’t work as well as it should have.

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cliozaur · 2 months

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Javert is here! Javert is here! He is terrible and ugly. And I am excited!

So much going on in this chapter that I will touch upon just a couple of points. Hugo invented the concept of the daemon a century before Philip Pullman: “It is our conviction that if souls were visible to the eyes, we should be able to see distinctly that strange thing that each one individual of the human race corresponds to some one of the species of the animal creation.” And, of course, Javert is portrayed as the Asturian dog-son of a wolf!

While reading this chapter, I noticed two points vaguely connecting Javert and Valjean. First, my pet topic—stoicism. Javert is depicted as “stoical, serious, austere; a melancholy dreamer, humble and haughty, like fanatics.” A bit later, he is compared to Brutus, more precisely “Brutus in Vidocq.” Although the parallel with Vidocq is quite transparent, Brutus is invoked for his stoic speeches and behaviour. As far as I recall, this is the only instance when Hugo mentions Javert’s stoicism, whereas he continuously reminds us about Valjean’s stoicism. They are two old stoics of Les Misérables.

The second topic is reading. They both read, but for different reasons and with different attitudes toward books. Valjean loves reading, extracting so much from books, dedicating ample time to reading, and considering books as his 'cold friends.' On the contrary, Javert despises books, yet he reads during rare moments of leisure. My theory is that he does it out of necessity, having nothing else to occupy his time. Since “he had no vices,” he wouldn't spend his free time in a tavern getting drunk like most people of that time. He is too poor for more sophisticated leisure, and reading is an affordable pastime. Additionally, I suspect he mostly reads newspapers, allowing him to stay updated on current events.

Although Hugo doesn’t explicitly mention it, I suspect it was exceptionally challenging for Javert to reconcile his suspicion toward Valjean with his respect for authority (given Valjean's role as a mayor).

#les mis letters #lm 1.5.5 #les miserables #javert #jean valjean #stoicism

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buckets-and-trees · 7 months

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Aspen's Enchanted Birthday Festival Announcement

October first marks one hundred days until my birthday! So from now until my birthday on January 9th I'm hosting a writing festival!

For this fest, I'm interested in seeing some mystical creatures we don't typically see, though you're free to adapt them and their lore however you see fit.

You do not need to follow me to participate (though it's appreciated). Details and guidelines under the keep reading/read more...

REQUIRED: Feature at least one of the creatures from this list:

Leshy/Leshen

Lampago

Lampad

Naiad

Dryad

Drows

Peryton

Tarasque

Skrat

The creature could be the reader, the leading man, or a creature they encounter. You can go with strict mythology, or riff off the elements of the base lore.

REQUIRED: Feature at least one of the characters from this list:

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Joaquin Torres

Nick Fowler

God the Bounty Hunter

Ari Levinson

Curtis Everett

Lloyd Hansen

OPTIONAL: if you would like some melodic or lyrical inspiration, here are nine songs I'm floating your way:

“A&W” by Lana Del Rey

“Holocene” by Bon Iver

“Never Let Me Go” by Florence + the Machine

“The Lightning Strike” by Snow Patrol

“If I Say” by Mumford & Sons

“Fine Line” by Harry Styles

“Abstract (Psychopomp)” by Hozier

“The Moment I Said It” by Imogen Heap

“Daydreaming” by Rosa Pullman

Writing must be an x reader story.

Minimum 500 words, maximum 9k words.

If part of an existing series, must be able to read as a stand alone piece.

Must be posted on tumblr between October 1, 2023, and January 9, 2024.

I will only read and reblog works that tag @buckets-and-trees and use the tag #aspensenchantedbday.

Stories MUST use a creature and character from the lists provided, but using song inspiration is optional.

All stories must be inclusive in nature.

No DD/lg dynamics, no pet play, no beastiality (if a monster cannot express consent, it is beastiality), no rpf (real person fiction), no scat play, no underage relations of a romantic or sexual nature.

Make sure to tag content and trigger warning appropriately and use a read more/keep reading cut after 300 words.

If you want to create something for THIS event that also aligns with other challenges or events, you can stack/maximize as long as that other event or challenge allows for it (doesn’t demand exclusivity).

I'm not obligated to read or reblog any works that fail to adhere to the requirements listed above.

If you're familiar with my library, you'll know I write a range of light to dark, fluff to smut, and so entries across the board are welcome as long as they meet the stipulated requirements.

May these creatures haunt your muse in the best way between now and January 9th!

#aspensenchantedbday #writing challenge #writing fest

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

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* LAST UPDATED 3/11/24 *

Welcome to my blog! Thank you for being here! ♥️

Please be aware that this blog is 18+. Any blank blogs and/or blogs with no age or age range listed will be blocked.

Below, you’ll find a compilation of the stories I’ve published on this sideblog, as well as playlists I’ve created to pair with the stories/universes that I write for. Any and all feedback is always so deeply appreciated!

For people who may be new around here, I’ve also provided a little bit of information that will hopefully make it easier to navigate my works!

who you’ll find around here:

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw - Most of my Rooster stories take place within the “Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw/Bradshaw Family” universe that I’ve established, but I’m also currently writing an Ancient Rome AU series with Rooster and have plans for other series in the future!

Hangman & Phoenix (Hannix) - My stories about Hangman and Phoenix exist within the same universe as the Bradshaw Family. I write about their “Friends With Benefits” Era, as well as their established relationship and married/family life.

Robert “Bob” Floyd - I’m currently writing a World War II AU series with Bob, and I’ve written other standalone stories for him as well. I have plans to write more stories with Bob in the future!

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range) - What can I say? I fell in love with Lewis Pullman and that led me straight into the arms of a bull-riding cowboy. My Rhett stories generally take place within the “Rhett & Honeybee” universe.

ask box/requests:

My ask box is always open! I love chatting with you all about anything and everything, so never be afraid to drop a message, anonymously or not!

I’m open to requests and suggestions, but please know that that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll write every request I receive. Please don’t take it personally! I work full-time and only have a certain amount of time to write, so I try to stick to what sparks some inspiration.

engagement:

I put warnings before all my stories, so please make sure to check them before reading any of my works. If you feel there’s a warning I’ve missed, feel free to let me know!

Not all of my stories are 18+, but I carefully label the ones that are. Again, please be respectful and check all warnings before engaging.

Reblogs and comments make a writer’s day! No matter how “old” the story might be, I love to read your feedback!

A simple key for the stories linked below:

* = Requested

+ = 18+

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw

Rooster As Your Husband (Pt. I)

Rooster As Your Husband (Pt. II)

A Glimpse of Them (Rooster x Wife!Reader, Goose x Carole) *

You, Me, and Karaoke (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

Until I Saw You (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

The First Time (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) + *

Show Me All the Scars You Hide (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader)

The Proposal (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader) *

Honeymoon Shopping (Rooster x Fiancee!Reader) *

Wedding Bells (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Hawaiian Breeze (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Tan Lines (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

A Surprise Gift (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Flight Scare (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Sweet Revenge (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Emergency (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Missing You (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Mirror, Mirror (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

Save the Last Dance (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Breathe (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Hands Off (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Happy Birthday, Bradley! (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Bad Day (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

It’s A Lovely Day Today (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Let’s Do Some Kissing and Making Up (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Anniversary Treat (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

I’m Here (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Power’s Out (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Government Issued (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

You’re Beautiful (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

Always By Your Side (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Birthday Girl (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

In Sickness and In Health (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Bronco Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Only You (Rooster x Wife!Reader) + *

The Better Man (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Piano Lesson (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

A Special Visit (Rooster x Future Wife!Reader)

Holding Out For A Hero (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Underneath the Tree (Rooster x Wife!Reader) +

Looks Like Christmas (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Forever Valentine (Rooster x Fiancee!Reader)

My Birthday Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

The Bradshaw Family

Rooster As A Father (Pt. I)

Rooster As A Father (Pt. II)

Rooster As A Father (Pt. III)

Welcome to the World (Goose x Carole)

That’s Our Baby (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Pool Day (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Fun on the Fourth (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Show and Tell (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

A Whole New World (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Fall & Halloween With The Bradshaws (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Defending Mommy (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Goose’s First Birthday (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Pop! (Rooster x Wife!Reader) *

Homecomings and Heart-to-Hearts (Rooster x Wife!Reader)

Hannix/Hangman & Phoenix

My Favorite Mistake // FWB Pt. 1 (Hangman x Phoenix) +

Friends With Benefits // FWB Pt. 2 (Hangman x Phoenix)

What He Tells Himself // FWB Pt. 3 (Hangman x Phoenix)

What She Tells Herself // FWB Pt. 4 (Hangman x Phoenix)

The Night She Stayed // FWB Pt. 5 (Hangman x Phoenix)

SFW Alphabet for Hangman & Phoenix

So This Is Love // FWB Pt. 6 (Hangman x Phoenix) +

The Seresin Family (Hangman x Phoenix)

Little Black Dress (Hangman x Phoenix) +

Fall & Halloween With The Seresins (Hangman x Phoenix)

Never Alone (Hangman x Phoenix) *

Merry Christmas, Darling (Hangman x Phoenix)

A Valentine’s Day to Remember (Hangman x Phoenix)

Locker Room Tryst (Hangman x Phoenix) * +

The Cowboy Rule (Hangman x Phoenix) *

A Christmas Eve Proposal (Hangman x Phoenix) *

A Christmas Eve Proposal Pt. 2 (Hangman x Phoenix) *

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Bob As Your Husband *

No Words (Bob x Wife!Reader)

Senses (Bob x Wife!Reader) +

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love (Bob x Wife!Reader)

Change of Plans (Bob x Wife!Reader) +

Sprinkles of Love (Bob x Female Reader)

scenes from the kitchen sink (Bob x Female Reader)

Like Peas in a Pod (Bob x Female Reader)

Alternate Universe (AU) Series

Letters to My Love (Bob x Female Reader) // World War II

Si Vis Amari Ama (Rooster x Female Reader) // Ancient Rome +

Playlists

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw

Hangman & Phoenix

Rhett Abbott

Oneshots/Miscellaneous

SFW Alphabet for Rooster

Hangman As Your Husband

Love in the Air (Rooster x Female Reader)

Rhett Abbott (Outer Range)

a sky full of stars (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

to the nines (rhett x childhood friend!reader) *

rhett to the rescue (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

love in the air at the county fair (rhett x childhood friend!reader) *

the christmas gift (rhett x wife!reader) *

snow angels (rhett x girlfriend!reader) *

all i wanna do is make love to you (rhett x girlfriend!reader) + *

baby’s first christmas (rhett x wife!reader) *

afternoon delight (rhett x girlfriend!reader) +

baby mine (rhett x wife!reader)

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #rooster headcanons #miles teller #hannix #hangman x phoenix #top gun: maverick #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #writing masterlist

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whistlingstarlight · 2 months

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StEx in real life Part 2: Coaches

As per the last StEx irl post, these do not match up perfectly. They're simply the closest I can find to what we see in the show despite the frequent inconsistencies/lack of information, with a few of my own headcanons sprinkled in.

Pearl: Pennsylvania Railroad balcony observation car

This is such a perfect match. Pearl doesn't always have a confirmed origin company, but on her Vegas/Tour outfit she wears the Pennsylvania Railroad logo on her belt. She's likely an open observation car due to the railing on her neckline, which fits the bill for this coach.

Dinah: American dining car

The coach in the photo is a Wabash car, but really any dining car from an American passenger service would fit Dinah (I picked this one for the colour). In English-speaking productions she's typically portrayed with a Southern accent, but this doesn't automatically dictate which company built her as accents can change over time.

Buffy: LNER buffet car

Buffet cars are an increasing rarity (at least here in Britain), with most being replaced but buffet trolleys instead. But dedicated buffet cars certainly used to be a thing, and I think this one fits Buffy very well. I imagine she was sold off to America, and acquired her New York accent there.

Ashley: Four-wheeled 1st class smoking car

Ashley to me has always screamed "vintage" in her design, she looks like she's made of polished wood and she's likely the oldest of the coaches still in service. She's also 1st Class (based on her placement in the train), so this particular coach fits her perfectly. I imagine she's been modified and had a gangway connection fitted though, to couple up with the more modern coaches.

Memphis Belle: Pullman sleeping car

This one is just outright fact, as Memphis Belle explicitly tells us both her class and her manufacturer. Which company she worked in service for is another matter, but in one version of her lyrics she claims to have been bought by Cornelius Vanderbilt, who owned a lot of railways.

Brandi: 1st class parlour car

Whilst to my knowledge "bar car" is not a dedicated coach class, Belle/Brandi nicely fits a lounge car; she has a posh, elegant design, and lounge cars are often fitted with bars. She's also first class, as indicated by her train placement, which matches her stylish design.

Carrie: Combine luggage/passenger car

Whilst Carrie is only ever stated to be a luggage van, I think it's possible she's a combine, fitted with a passenger section as well as luggage compartment. She's likely part of Control's express train, and a combine would allow for more passengers. Plus her design just fits this idea to me.

#stex #starlight express #stex irl headcanons

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cinderellasfella · 1 year

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One thing about the ending to The Amber Spyglass I really came to appreciate over the years was Lyra and Will's promise not to hold any future partners they may have in comparison to what they've lost. Because, considering the circumstances, it would have been so easy to have them vow never to love anyone else ever again. To play into the idea that you only get one great love in your life, and anything or anyone else that comes after is inferior.

We have a pair of kids who were destined to save all worlds across the multiverse, who reignited the very spark of consciousness and free will through the simple act of falling in love, and who are now going to be permanently separated just after they've realised what they share. They're going to return to the bench in their own Oxford to be near each other every midsummer's day for the rest of their lives, they vow to find each other again after they die and become one with the universe, "every atom of me and every atom of you", etc. etc., cue the reader's heart cracking clean in two. A sweeping, once in a lifetime love story.

And yet, Will and Lyra acknowledge that they may love again in their lifetimes. It won't be the same as what they shared, but that doesn't mean it will be worth any less, just that it'll be a different relationship. They'll have their yearly hour at the bench to remember their first love, and they'll still let other people into their hearts and cherish them because, after all they've learned and gone through, they need and deserve to live full and happy lives. But a full and happy life does not have to be limited to one love, important as it was to the people involved. And I think it was wonderful of Pullman to include that idea.

#his dark materials #the amber spyglass #idk i've just been thinking a lot about this lately

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octuscle · 9 months

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Hey there! A good friend of mine gets recently a wrong suitcase from the airport and suddenly disappeared. I never got a text from him anymore. It seems like he has forgotten his real life - I hope he's alive! My problem is that I get a strange suitcase too now. It's from SBH. Maybe I should bring it back?

Really a strange suitcase. You could have done more with a decent hard case from Samsonite. You've been wanting one of these for 30 years. But this? A pretty ugly bag for your taste…. Seems to be from France, the name has an accent on the second e in any case. No idea how to pronounce it now. You take a picture of the bag and let Google Lens see if you can get something for it on ebay….

WHAT THE HELL! 8.500 EURO! For a bag. You get out your reading glasses. You need to take a closer look. Okay. You've made a mistake. It's 85,000 euros. You're getting dizzy. Are the zippers and the lock made of white gold? What justifies this absolutely absurd price? For a company that nobody knows. At least you've never heard of it… Now you are curious about the contents. The lock hangs only decoratively on the bag. It is not locked. It would be better if it was. The contents are two sets of underwear, two pairs of silk boxer shorts, a couple of T-shirts, a toilet bag, which you assume costs a fortune… Everything is incidental… Most of the space is taken up by bundles of hot-off-the-press 200-euro bills. There must be several 100,000 euros in there. What the hell!

Take the bag and run? Seems like a shitty idea to you. The shipment went to your address. Whoever owns it (and it's not you) knows who you are and where you live. None of this makes any sense! You search the side pockets. An airline ticket. First class. From Paris back to Saint Barth via Saint Martin. And a booking confirmation for an overnight stay in a suite at the Pullman Paris Roissy CDG Airport. Tonight. All in your name. Fuck, you can't just fly to the Caribbean with some underwear and two swim shorts and an incredible amount of money. But if you do, you have to hurry. Shit, you'll regret it. But you buy a train ticket to Paris, put on your best suit. And you're on your way.

On the train, everything was still okay. But in the lobby of the airport hotel you get a lot of looks. Yes, first of all you don't fit into the elegant frame. Your suit is enough for a customer appointment as a representative of construction machinery. But here all the people are slimmer, more elegant, prettier…. You look like a slightly overweight piece of dirt. With a 15-carat diamond in your hand. At the reception, the lady smiles at you briefly. Then her eyes fall on the weekender. And just breathes a "How beautiful!" Then she apologizes that they can't offer you anything better than the Superior Suite. There were other VIPs here besides you who had received the very large suites. As an apology you would receive a bottle of champagne in your room. And they would be very grateful if they could invite you to dinner. Your luggage has already arrived, they were so kind to bring it to your room. If you need help unpacking, you can reach the butler service at extension 940.

You thank her and ask for a discreetly placed table at 8:30 pm. The champagne gladly with your meal. In fluent French. You beam at the young lady, she blushes and smiles back.

It's a good thing your suitcase wasn't checked in directly by the Air France service. You would like to change again for dinner. The suite is okay for one night. In the bathroom, you look in the mirror. Why did you put on that cheap suit? You must have been really mentally deranged. Were you trying to disguise yourself? Silly! You jump into the shower. While drying off, you think to yourself that you are actually quite firm for a man in his late 40s. Yes, a little more exercise would be okay. But otherwise… You open the Hermès suitcase, take out a black suit and a black shirt. And you change your clothes. You find the Royal Oak to match. And as a statement, the crocodile sandals. Let everyone see your freshly pedicured feet.

There's hardly a pair of eyes that don't turn to you when you enter the restaurant. If your ego wasn't bigger than the Eiffel Tower, you might be embarrassed that the entire staff looks after you first and then the other guests. You see people whispering. Everyone wonders who you are. The problem is: you don't know yourself… For a moment, you look at your manicured fingernails and wonder what's going on. Then you take a sip of champagne. Veuve Clicquot. Well… It's a gift… It's okay for that…

After dessert, the waiter asks if you would like to have coffee and digestif with a cigar at the bar. Normally you think this is a good idea. But not today. The flight to Martinique leaves quite early. Before that, you would like to get some sleep. So you decline with thanks and put a 100-euro bill on the table as a tip.

A message on your cell phone wakes you up at 4:00 in the morning. You are supposed to take some courier goods with you. You can get it at the hotel reception. Fuck! What is this again? Anyway, you are awake now. Then use the time at least. 100 situps, 100 pushups. You like the picture in the bathroom mirror afterwards. The hair on your chest is jet black. Just like your beard, there's not a gray hair to be seen. And sweat drips in the grooves between your six-pack. You get a hard-on like you haven't had in years. You can't help it. You have to jerk off. And boy, there was real pressure on your balls. Your cum runs off the mirror like someone threw a cup of yogurt at it. It's just before 6:00 now. You call 940 and ask Yves to pick up a package at the reception desk, which would be deposited there. Until he arrives, you do another 100 push-ups. When the knock comes and you open the door, your eyes fall on a turquoise package in Yves' hands. Yves' gaze falls on the package between your legs. Shit, you are naked. Yves asks if he can help you in any way. He still does not look into your eyes. You pull him into the room and throw him on your bed.

Two hours later Yves serves you breakfast in your room. You are ready for departure. Airfrance has already picked up your luggage with the package, which is probably not from Tiffany's, and your boarding pass is in an envelope on a silver tray on the breakfast table. In half an hour, someone will pick you up and take you directly to the plane. Security checks are something for people who have to travel in business class.

Flights with Air France are orgies of champagne and foie gras. The nine hours fly by. The fuck with the purser in the bathroom certainly played its part. The guy thought you were in your late 30s and asked if you were flying on your dad's credit card or your own. For the impudence he had to blow you unfortunately. Whereby he was not so wrong. Somehow you fly with daddy's credit card. But you still don't know who Daddy is. The pilot of the private plane who meets you in Saint Martin directly on the tarmac and flies with you to Saint Barth doesn't tell you that either. You have never been here before. But you feel right at home. This is how you always imagined the Caribbean. There is a Maybach on the tarmac. When you get off the plane, the driver comes to meet you, takes your suitcase and weekender and puts both in the trunk. Wordlessly. And just as wordlessly, he gets into the car and speeds away.

Shit! Now you're standing at the airport. You don't even have an ID card. You have the clothes you wear on your body. Okay, the watch you're wearing on your wrist could get you back home if need be and feed you for a year. That's where the Maybach comes back. The chauffeur gets out and asks you for the watch. Fuck!

At that moment, an open jeep rolls up to you. At the wheel is a young guy, maybe in his mid-20s, waving at you. Damn, you know that face… He reminds you of your lost buddy. Did he have a son who is a personal trainer in the Caribbean? That's definitely what the man looks like. The guy jumps out of the car, hugs you and welcomes you to Saint Barth. "Come on, get in! The boss wants to meet you!" You drive around the island for half an hour. Everything is incredibly beautiful! A gate opens in front of you at the end of a dead-end street. And your buddy steers the car through a tropical park. He parks the car in front of a palace, grins at you, says "Not bad, huh" and tells you to follow him. You walk through the house for what feels like a kilometer. There is a pleasant coolness here. Your buddy knocks on a door, waits a moment and opens it. A wave of autotity hits you. The whole room literally reeks with authority. You almost feel like falling to your knees and kissing the man's hand. "This is the boy from Paris?" Your buddy nods mutely. "Good job," says your boss. And extends his hand to you. With a dry mouth you say that you would do anything for him. He laughs and says that for now you should enjoy the island for a few days. And with a twitch of the corner of his mouth, he tells you that you can say goodbye.

You had hoped a little that you would be allowed to stay in the palace. But your buddy runs back to the jeep. And drives with you to a far less pompous house. But the beach is close. Your room is spacious. Your closet is well sorted. And you have a few days off on the island of the rich and beautiful.

03:30 the next morning. Message from the boss. Have you ever been to Abu Dhabi? Be at the airport in an hour!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation #age reduction

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