butwhyduh

[butwhyduh]

Bob vibes:

[butwhyduh]

I’m quite literally drinking coffee and a monster at the same time and falling asleep in this lecture

Send help. Or energy

[butwhyduh]

‘I threw up’ ass pose

[butwhyduh]

Comfort

Bob Reynolds x black widow!reader

Bob has bad memories that make it hard to sleep. Hes not alone. Warning: smut. The characters went a different direction than I planned but I’m not mad. PTSD handled in not the healthiest way but some people do meth, so not that bad, you know?

Bob woke with a quick inhale. He sat up quickly. His skin felt damp and cold. The dim lights from the city outside his window twinkled like cold stars. He tried to calm his racing heart. It had been months but the dreams wouldn’t leave. Being shot a about a million times by soldiers in black tactical uniforms was unforgettable. The pain and the feeling of certainty that he was going to die tormented him. He sometimes thought he could feel pain from the bullets piercing his skin but Bob wasn’t sure it was real.

Running a hand through his messy hair, he climbed out of bed. Cold tile bit into the bottom of his feet but he ignored it. He was supposedly invulnerable. That’s what made his fear ridiculous. He was fine.

The hallway felt huge and cold with nothing hung on the wall. Bob moved to the kitchen. The stovetop lamp was on. Not surprising, Bob had come to notice Walker always left it that way when he went to bed. It seemed to bring the soldier comfort and Bob did note it was a soft gesture.

Bob grabbed a small cup from the cabinet and filled it from the sink. He always forgot about the fridge water; never grew up with it. He leaned against the cold counter like it was a comfort. His breathing had slowed but he felt far from okay. He was completely wired and exhausted at the same time.

Bob was fine. In fact it was practically impossible to even hurt him. It didn’t matter to his mind that was already fighting him every day. In some sick way he felt a relief that he was no longer dreaming about his POS dad.

“Hey,” said a voice from down the hall. Bob turned to see you slowly walking in. His eyes skimmed the long oversized sleep shirt and ankle length socks. Ever since he had met you months ago, he’d had a sweet spot for you but had ignored it. No matter that Yelena had heavily hinted that you were single. That’s great but Bob was a little occupied by his mind.

The sleep in your eyes was evident and you yawned loudly. You grabbed a cup and poured yourself some water. “Cheers,” you said before gently touching the cups together. He could smell a soft scent, likely lotion or soap on you. It was nice.

You sat on the marble counter beside him and Bob noticed fine silvery lines across the skin of your thighs that denoted you as a warrior. Bob eyed lateral scars across your wrist and he wondered if you had gotten those from work or from something else.

“So why are you up?” You asked after a minute of quietly drinking water.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, looking down at his water cup. He looked so young when he curled in on himself. His soft brown hair covered his eyes.

“Hmm,” you agreed with a nod. “Insomnia or nightmares?”

Bob looked at you a little surprised.

“I can see the signs of PTSD clear as day. We pretty much all have it,” you replied to his unasked question. “Fight long enough- hell, help people long enough and you’ll get it. I don’t know if we’re meant to see so much violence, so much pain.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. He shrugged. “Im not fighting-“

“Bullshit,” you replied not unkindly, sitting the cup down. Bob looked up quickly. “I saw your shame rooms. You’ve been fighting since you were little, Bob. Your messed up dad, drugs, whatever else brought you to Malaysia. You’ve fought for probably as long as you can remember.”

Bob looked away. His mannerism was so young but his eyes looked older, battle scarred. His fingers moved along the hem of his shirt, fidgeting.

“Im not trying to be an ass. I’ve been there. I just- I don’t want you to feel alone. That’s the worst part, in my opinion,” you continued.

“If you ever need to talk,” you started.

“It’s stupid. Im invulnerable to pretty much anything. You’d break a knife if you stabbed me,” Bob blurted out. It was like he needed to say that. You watched him pull at the sleeve of his sweater. He worried a hole in the fabric.

“I shouldn’t be scared. My dad is dead and I can’t be shot,” he said. It was like he was telling himself that. You nodded.

“True. But you’re still human,” you countered. “Fear is natural. You’ve seen some fucked up shit.”

You softly placed a hand on his shoulder and Bob looked up. “You’re a good man, you know that, right?”

He tried to look down. “I don’t know about all that,” he muttered turning pink with a self deprecating smile. “I’ve fucked up a lot.”

You cupped his jaw and he let you turn his head towards you. “We all have. Especially here. Especially this group. I’ve done things I can’t take back, that I won’t forget; especially as a widow. But the fact that you’re trying makes you a good person, Bob.”

He looked at you without speaking. Bob didn’t know what to say. You looked at his face before glancing down to his lips. Bob was barely outside of the space between your legs that dangled from the counter you sat on. You could feel the warmth of his thigh against yours.

“What if I’m not good? What if the other guy is evil?” He practically whispered. There was a desperation in his voice that he needed your approval.

“You’re not evil and neither is he,” you insisted. He leaned into your palm and you guided him closer until your faces were a breath apart. “Can I kiss you?” You whispered. His mouth fell slightly open.

“Yeah,” was all he said before feeling you gently press your lips against his. He pressed into the kiss like it was a lifeline and he was drowning. He gripped the countertop beside your thigh.

He wasn’t desperate but earnest. He matched all of your actions eagerly. You pulled back just enough to press your forehead against his. Bobs breath was quicker than before.

“Can you take me to bed?” You asked, indulging in a way you usually didn’t afford yourself. Bob nodded before you had finished talking. He ever so gently moved between your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He lifted you up and slowly walked towards his room.

He cradled your back as he laid you down on the bed as delicately as he could as if one wrong move and you would leave. Bob’s eyes never left yours. You squirmed under his gaze. The shirt had moved up exposing your plain black panties and soft legs. He gently ran his hands down your thighs.

“You’re so pretty,” he said in a hushed reverent tone. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes,” you breathed before pulling him down. Bob’s lips were warm and soft.

He couldn’t remember the last time he made out with someone much less had sex. Definitely before Malaysia. That’s a long time, he thought before every thought left his mind. You had pulled on a knot in his hair as you ran your fingers across his scalp.

“Fuck,” he gasped almost silently as want pulsed through his body.

“You okay?” You asked and he nodded quickly. He readjusted his arms holding himself up and started kissing you some more. Your hands ran under the soft material of the undershirt he wore to bed. Bob’s stomach muscles contracted at your touch. His skin was soft but the muscles were strong, unyielding. It was easy to forget how powerful he was. You shivered at the thought.

He pulled back.

“So how far are we taking this? I just need to know,” he added. You cupped his cheeks fondly and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’d love more but are you okay with it? I’ll leave it up to you,” you answered. Bob closed his eyes trying to control himself.

“Can I- can I finger you,” he ask.

“Yeah,” you breathed and you could feel a faint throb to your clit. Bob bent down and kissed your lips again before running his fingers along the seam of your panties. He was simply exploring and feeling you but it felt like teasing on your skin.

“Fuck you’re wet,” he muttered under his breath. His long fingers rubbed gentle circle over the wet spot while he watched your face. You bit your lips and he played with you so seriously.

“Want them off,” you said shoving your panties down your thighs. Bob helped you pull them off. He turned his attention back to you.

“You’re so pretty.”

He gulped before running his fingers through your wetness. He watched for the way your eyes closed when he rubbed his fingers across your clit. He focused circles there.

“Bob,” you moaned softly. His gentle movements were infuriatingly perfect. There’s no way you would have taken this time on yourself and certainly no other guy you’ve ever been with.

“I’m gonna use a finger inside, okay?” He said.

“Yes,” you moaned. He smiled a little. One of his long fingers ran in your wetness before pressing in. You surged up to kiss his jaw. He treated you so delicately. His finger moved rhythmically but slowly causing you to throb.

“More,” you said. He pressed in another finger and you gasped a little. You were embarrassingly receptive. Bob loved it. Your hips rocked in rhythm with his thrusts. He smeared your wetness across your clit with his thumb. You shuddered and Bob’s hips moved a little as his cock throbbed with hardness. He ignored it.

You didn’t. You cupped him through his pants.

“Off,” you said and Bob leaned back and kicked them off. You stared him unabashedly. The sentry project had been kind to him in looks. He was lean and strong without looking bulky. And his dick was just pretty. You could write poetry and about the nice size and shape with the same color as the blush high on his cheeks. You bit your lip while you stared.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” he groaned.

“Why?”

“You’re making really hard to not fuck you,” he admitted.

“Bob, I’m naked underneath you. Please fuck me,” you replied amused. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

“I’ve never had to ask someone twice to fuck me,” you said after a bit. He nodded quickly before climbing back over you. You kissed into his mouth messily. Bob ground against your skin and you could feel precum smear against your skin. You reached down and jerked his cock. Bob groaned into it.

“Stop, you’ll make me cum,” he admitted.

“Then we’ll go again,” you said with a particularly cruel twist running your thumb across his tip before lining it up to your core. “Bob, I won’t ask a third time for you to fuck me.”

He nodded quickly and pushed in eagerly. His shaky inhale when he bottomed out was beautiful. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he attempted to control himself.

“If I don’t last it’s because it’s been a while,” he admitted. He slowly started thrusting. At first it was gentle and delicate movement. But once Bob could see you liked what he was doing, his thrusts got harder and deeper. They weren’t faster. The pace was infuriating but you could feel your orgasm building.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. Bob fell to his elbows.

“Fuck, sorry,” he breathed but didn’t stop. You let out a beautiful filthy moan as his pelvis rubbed against your clit in the new position.

“Right fucking there,” you gasped. You kissed into his mouth as if all finesse had left your body. You throbbed and started to clench around him. “Im gonna cum.”

“Me too. I want yours first,” he replied. You could see sweat on his skin and the flush of his face, his eyes half closed with pleasure was so fucking beautiful. He grabbed one of your breasts in a squeeze.

You gasped and writhed beneath him as you came. He shuddered and whines as he filled you up. “Oh my god,” he muttered. His hips pressed into you deeper, as deep as he could. You rocked together in pleasure.

Bob finally stopped moving and laid on you. His breath came out in pants against your neck. You hugged around his back keeping him close. You kissed his cheek. Bob looked almost asleep as you rubbed circles on his back.

You hated to ruin the peace but a few minutes later you tapped him. “Gotta get up.”

Bob stirred and looked at you. “Do we have to?” He asked before rocking his hips against you. “Round two?”

“I’ve created a monster,” you laughed into a moan as he thrust. You could feel the wetness and cum from the previous round as he moved.

“Your monster,” he whispered in your ear.

“Mine.”

The night went all the way to morning before you both passed out in each others arms. Bruises from lips and teeth against both of your skin painted an obscene picture helped by the smell of sex heavy in the air.

[butwhyduh]

Comfort

Bob Reynolds x black widow!reader

Bob has bad memories that make it hard to sleep. Hes not alone. Warning: smut. The characters went a different direction than I planned but I’m not mad. PTSD handled in not the healthiest way but some people do meth, so not that bad, you know?

Bob woke with a quick inhale. He sat up quickly. His skin felt damp and cold. The dim lights from the city outside his window twinkled like cold stars. He tried to calm his racing heart. It had been months but the dreams wouldn’t leave. Being shot a about a million times by soldiers in black tactical uniforms was unforgettable. The pain and the feeling of certainty that he was going to die tormented him. He sometimes thought he could feel pain from the bullets piercing his skin but Bob wasn’t sure it was real.

Running a hand through his messy hair, he climbed out of bed. Cold tile bit into the bottom of his feet but he ignored it. He was supposedly invulnerable. That’s what made his fear ridiculous. He was fine.

The hallway felt huge and cold with nothing hung on the wall. Bob moved to the kitchen. The stovetop lamp was on. Not surprising, Bob had come to notice Walker always left it that way when he went to bed. It seemed to bring the soldier comfort and Bob did note it was a soft gesture.

Bob grabbed a small cup from the cabinet and filled it from the sink. He always forgot about the fridge water; never grew up with it. He leaned against the cold counter like it was a comfort. His breathing had slowed but he felt far from okay. He was completely wired and exhausted at the same time.

Bob was fine. In fact it was practically impossible to even hurt him. It didn’t matter to his mind that was already fighting him every day. In some sick way he felt a relief that he was no longer dreaming about his POS dad.

“Hey,” said a voice from down the hall. Bob turned to see you slowly walking in. His eyes skimmed the long oversized sleep shirt and ankle length socks. Ever since he had met you months ago, he’d had a sweet spot for you but had ignored it. No matter that Yelena had heavily hinted that you were single. That’s great but Bob was a little occupied by his mind.

The sleep in your eyes was evident and you yawned loudly. You grabbed a cup and poured yourself some water. “Cheers,” you said before gently touching the cups together. He could smell a soft scent, likely lotion or soap on you. It was nice.

You sat on the marble counter beside him and Bob noticed fine silvery lines across the skin of your thighs that denoted you as a warrior. Bob eyed lateral scars across your wrist and he wondered if you had gotten those from work or from something else.

“So why are you up?” You asked after a minute of quietly drinking water.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, looking down at his water cup. He looked so young when he curled in on himself. His soft brown hair covered his eyes.

“Hmm,” you agreed with a nod. “Insomnia or nightmares?”

Bob looked at you a little surprised.

“I can see the signs of PTSD clear as day. We pretty much all have it,” you replied to his unasked question. “Fight long enough- hell, help people long enough and you’ll get it. I don’t know if we’re meant to see so much violence, so much pain.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. He shrugged. “Im not fighting-“

“Bullshit,” you replied not unkindly, sitting the cup down. Bob looked up quickly. “I saw your shame rooms. You’ve been fighting since you were little, Bob. Your messed up dad, drugs, whatever else brought you to Malaysia. You’ve fought for probably as long as you can remember.”

Bob looked away. His mannerism was so young but his eyes looked older, battle scarred. His fingers moved along the hem of his shirt, fidgeting.

“Im not trying to be an ass. I’ve been there. I just- I don’t want you to feel alone. That’s the worst part, in my opinion,” you continued.

“If you ever need to talk,” you started.

“It’s stupid. Im invulnerable to pretty much anything. You’d break a knife if you stabbed me,” Bob blurted out. It was like he needed to say that. You watched him pull at the sleeve of his sweater. He worried a hole in the fabric.

“I shouldn’t be scared. My dad is dead and I can’t be shot,” he said. It was like he was telling himself that. You nodded.

“True. But you’re still human,” you countered. “Fear is natural. You’ve seen some fucked up shit.”

You softly placed a hand on his shoulder and Bob looked up. “You’re a good man, you know that, right?”

He tried to look down. “I don’t know about all that,” he muttered turning pink with a self deprecating smile. “I’ve fucked up a lot.”

You cupped his jaw and he let you turn his head towards you. “We all have. Especially here. Especially this group. I’ve done things I can’t take back, that I won’t forget; especially as a widow. But the fact that you’re trying makes you a good person, Bob.”

He looked at you without speaking. Bob didn’t know what to say. You looked at his face before glancing down to his lips. Bob was barely outside of the space between your legs that dangled from the counter you sat on. You could feel the warmth of his thigh against yours.

“What if I’m not good? What if the other guy is evil?” He practically whispered. There was a desperation in his voice that he needed your approval.

“You’re not evil and neither is he,” you insisted. He leaned into your palm and you guided him closer until your faces were a breath apart. “Can I kiss you?” You whispered. His mouth fell slightly open.

“Yeah,” was all he said before feeling you gently press your lips against his. He pressed into the kiss like it was a lifeline and he was drowning. He gripped the countertop beside your thigh.

He wasn’t desperate but earnest. He matched all of your actions eagerly. You pulled back just enough to press your forehead against his. Bobs breath was quicker than before.

“Can you take me to bed?” You asked, indulging in a way you usually didn’t afford yourself. Bob nodded before you had finished talking. He ever so gently moved between your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He lifted you up and slowly walked towards his room.

He cradled your back as he laid you down on the bed as delicately as he could as if one wrong move and you would leave. Bob’s eyes never left yours. You squirmed under his gaze. The shirt had moved up exposing your plain black panties and soft legs. He gently ran his hands down your thighs.

“You’re so pretty,” he said in a hushed reverent tone. “Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes,” you breathed before pulling him down. Bob’s lips were warm and soft.

He couldn’t remember the last time he made out with someone much less had sex. Definitely before Malaysia. That’s a long time, he thought before every thought left his mind. You had pulled on a knot in his hair as you ran your fingers across his scalp.

“Fuck,” he gasped almost silently as want pulsed through his body.

“You okay?” You asked and he nodded quickly. He readjusted his arms holding himself up and started kissing you some more. Your hands ran under the soft material of the undershirt he wore to bed. Bob’s stomach muscles contracted at your touch. His skin was soft but the muscles were strong, unyielding. It was easy to forget how powerful he was. You shivered at the thought.

He pulled back.

“So how far are we taking this? I just need to know,” he added. You cupped his cheeks fondly and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’d love more but are you okay with it? I’ll leave it up to you,” you answered. Bob closed his eyes trying to control himself.

“Can I- can I finger you,” he ask.

“Yeah,” you breathed and you could feel a faint throb to your clit. Bob bent down and kissed your lips again before running his fingers along the seam of your panties. He was simply exploring and feeling you but it felt like teasing on your skin.

“Fuck you’re wet,” he muttered under his breath. His long fingers rubbed gentle circle over the wet spot while he watched your face. You bit your lips and he played with you so seriously.

“Want them off,” you said shoving your panties down your thighs. Bob helped you pull them off. He turned his attention back to you.

“You’re so pretty.”

He gulped before running his fingers through your wetness. He watched for the way your eyes closed when he rubbed his fingers across your clit. He focused circles there.

“Bob,” you moaned softly. His gentle movements were infuriatingly perfect. There’s no way you would have taken this time on yourself and certainly no other guy you’ve ever been with.

“I’m gonna use a finger inside, okay?” He said.

“Yes,” you moaned. He smiled a little. One of his long fingers ran in your wetness before pressing in. You surged up to kiss his jaw. He treated you so delicately. His finger moved rhythmically but slowly causing you to throb.

“More,” you said. He pressed in another finger and you gasped a little. You were embarrassingly receptive. Bob loved it. Your hips rocked in rhythm with his thrusts. He smeared your wetness across your clit with his thumb. You shuddered and Bob’s hips moved a little as his cock throbbed with hardness. He ignored it.

You didn’t. You cupped him through his pants.

“Off,” you said and Bob leaned back and kicked them off. You stared him unabashedly. The sentry project had been kind to him in looks. He was lean and strong without looking bulky. And his dick was just pretty. You could write poetry and about the nice size and shape with the same color as the blush high on his cheeks. You bit your lip while you stared.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” he groaned.

“Why?”

“You’re making really hard to not fuck you,” he admitted.

“Bob, I’m naked underneath you. Please fuck me,” you replied amused. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

“I’ve never had to ask someone twice to fuck me,” you said after a bit. He nodded quickly before climbing back over you. You kissed into his mouth messily. Bob ground against your skin and you could feel precum smear against your skin. You reached down and jerked his cock. Bob groaned into it.

“Stop, you’ll make me cum,” he admitted.

“Then we’ll go again,” you said with a particularly cruel twist running your thumb across his tip before lining it up to your core. “Bob, I won’t ask a third time for you to fuck me.”

He nodded quickly and pushed in eagerly. His shaky inhale when he bottomed out was beautiful. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he attempted to control himself.

“If I don’t last it’s because it’s been a while,” he admitted. He slowly started thrusting. At first it was gentle and delicate movement. But once Bob could see you liked what he was doing, his thrusts got harder and deeper. They weren’t faster. The pace was infuriating but you could feel your orgasm building.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. Bob fell to his elbows.

“Fuck, sorry,” he breathed but didn’t stop. You let out a beautiful filthy moan as his pelvis rubbed against your clit in the new position.

“Right fucking there,” you gasped. You kissed into his mouth as if all finesse had left your body. You throbbed and started to clench around him. “Im gonna cum.”

“Me too. I want yours first,” he replied. You could see sweat on his skin and the flush of his face, his eyes half closed with pleasure was so fucking beautiful. He grabbed one of your breasts in a squeeze.

You gasped and writhed beneath him as you came. He shuddered and whines as he filled you up. “Oh my god,” he muttered. His hips pressed into you deeper, as deep as he could. You rocked together in pleasure.

Bob finally stopped moving and laid on you. His breath came out in pants against your neck. You hugged around his back keeping him close. You kissed his cheek. Bob looked almost asleep as you rubbed circles on his back.

You hated to ruin the peace but a few minutes later you tapped him. “Gotta get up.”

Bob stirred and looked at you. “Do we have to?” He asked before rocking his hips against you. “Round two?”

“I’ve created a monster,” you laughed into a moan as he thrust. You could feel the wetness and cum from the previous round as he moved.

“Your monster,” he whispered in your ear.

“Mine.”

The night went all the way to morning before you both passed out in each others arms. Bruises from lips and teeth against both of your skin painted an obscene picture helped by the smell of sex heavy in the air.

[butwhyduh]

I was feeling down and bad about myself a few weeks ago and went for a drive that may or may not have been a lil fast. I got pulled over and I started flirting with the cop almost like an instinct at this point tbh. I girl bossed too hard because not only did I not get a ticket, he gave me his number 😅

[butwhyduh]

Fantastic 4 is great. Love love love the costume and set design. It’s like the freakin Jetsons or something. The characters are well rounded and the story is cute. CGI isn’t bad. And I was hesitant but Johnny was cute.

[butwhyduh]

I’ve had a triple shot of espresso and it’s only 11 am and I also think my brother’s best friend is hot and idk what to do with that info.

[butwhyduh]

You Again

Bob Reynolds x reader

Summary: Bob has to go to Florida to grab some stuff he left over there before everything happened in Malaysia. He just didn’t plan on you being there.

Warning: smut, drugs mentioned

“Hello?”

It was a bit like seeing a ghost. Bob stood staring, silent. He didn’t know what to say. He disappeared 14 years earlier with no explanation. It was too painful at the time to tell you about the drugs.

He always assumed you knew he did stuff. But doing stuff doesn’t always mean meth. That’s a bit worse, he thought. He knew you likely would never forgive him.

“Okay, yeah,” Yelena said in the silence. “This isn’t awkward at all. Bob, tell her why we are here.”

“Oh right. Uhhh and it’s cool if you don’t have it-“ he started staring at his feet. “But I kinda left some of my stuff here and I was needing to get it- if you have it.”

He looked up at you terrified. You sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “We should just go.”

“No, wait,” you said sounding tired. “What stuff?”

“My school forms and social security card and birth certificate. Also some letters,” he replied. He looked terrified and was almost hiding behind Yelena. It looked ridiculous on the 6 foot tall man hiding behind a 5’3 woman but she certainly seemed scary.

“Oh. Here?”

“Yeah I- I left it with your mom when she let me stay on your couch,” he mumbled.

“Ohh. Well, she’s dead,” you replied. Normally you would have said it more delicately but you had no more delicacy left.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bob said and he genuinely sounded sad.

“It was last year. I would have told you but I kinda assumed you were dead too,” you admitted.

“Oh.”

You sighed again. “I’m sorry. I’m going through her stuff today and it’s…. Hard.”

“Im sorry. Do you- do you need help?” Bob asked. Yelena looked between you both and it was easy to infer that there was something more than a kid sleeping on her mom’s couch.

“I- yeah. Yeah,” you said while opening the door wider to let them in.

“I have stuff to do. I’ll pick you up later, Bob,” Yelena said. Bob nodded at her before following you in the house.

Boxes were piled on each wall of the entryway and the house smelled strongly of cleaning products. Bob couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on you. Your hair was messily pinned up and your baggy clothes hid most of your form but he could tell you had filled out much more than you were in school. He had too.

“I’m going through her books in the closet. Your stuff might be in that closet,” you said. “Well, I’m going to if I can get it down,” you admitted.

“I got it,” Bob said. He carefully pulled the large box of books from the top shelf. You winced, fully expecting the heavy box to fall on him. But Bob moved it like it was nothing and delicately laid it on a table that creaked under the weight.

“Wow,” you muttered under your breath. Bob was a little pink under the collar but he ignored it.

“Always wondered what was in this box,” you said. “She had shelves of books but these were in the closet.”

You used a knife to open the box. Bob looked in it to see it full of books. On the top was 2 journals. He grabbed one and you the other.

“Oh it’s her diary,” you said, looking through the pages.

“This one is your dad’s I think,” Bob replied. You looked up quickly. Your dad had died when you were young. Bob turned the page.

“Oh wow,” he couldn’t help but say.

“What?”

“Well, I don’t know how to say this but your dad.. he wrote letters to your mom in this,” Bob said. His face was turning redder by the second as he read more.

“Really? Let me see,” you said, putting down your book. He jumped back.

“I don’t know if you want to read this,” Bob said.

“Dont be ridiculous. It’s my parents.” You tried to grab the book from his hands and he shifted away.

“Wait. I have to tell you,” he insisted. “Your dad wrote….”

“What?” You said, grabbing at Bob’s arm trying to get the book. If he wasn’t so desperate to keep the book away from you, he would have noticed much more than just how nice you smelled that close.

“Porn! He wrote sex stuff for your mom,” Bob forced himself to say. “Love letters.”

“For real? Like a bunch of stuff?” You said stopping.

Bob looked back at it reluctantly. “Your father had a gift, I’d say.” You stared at Bob.

“Seriously?” Your face twisted to disgust.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to read it if it was my parents,” he said. You backed away. Bob closed the book.

“Okay, we’ll keep that book closed. Let’s see what’s under it,” you continued, ignoring that info. Bob nodded. He pulled out a few more books and if he wasn’t red before he was now. An awkward laugh left your mouth as you looked at the covers.

“They were freaks!” You gasped out at the no less than 6 sex tips books in the box. Under that were countless smut titles. All looked well loved.

“I don’t think my stuff is in this box,” Bob muttered. You shoved books back in the box and closed it up soundly.

“Im going to block that out,” you said. “Now I’m scared what else I’ll find.”

Bob stepped closer to the closet. “Valid point,” he nodded. “I’ll skim them first,” he offered.

“Absolutely,” you agreed. He had basically taken a bullet by reading your dad’s journal. You didn’t know what you would do if you had read it.

“I want to let you know,” Bob started while looking in the closet and you could tell it was serious. “I- I want to apologize. I was a terrible boyfriend and then I left…” he trailed off before grabbing another box. He turned and placed it on the bed.

You opened it before looking at him. “I worried, you know? I thought you were dead.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I was fucked up. I didn’t want you to know how bad. At first it was pain meds.”

“From your back?”

“Yeah,” he replied. The box held random papers, bills, receipts. “And then I started looking for other stuff to help. I tried a few things and uppers helped with being tired. It kept the depression away for a while. I didn’t want to tell you how messed up I was.”

“I knew about the pain meds and I figured that you were finding other sources when the hospital cut you off,” you admitted. “But I didn’t know about the other stuff until later.”

“I didn’t want start meth. But when the dark days dont stop, it’s hard not to try anything to make it better,” he said before moving back towards the closet. He put the box back up. “I’m sober now. I went to Malaysia and did an experimental treatment thing.”

He laid another box on the bed. “I don’t think I could get high if I wanted,” Bob mused. This box contained cleaning products.

“You got sober in Malaysia?” You asked confused.

“Technically,” Bob replied. “But I just want to say sorry. I’ve been thinking of how I treated people back then. I was trash. I ended up with a felony for battery while wearing a chicken suit.”

You blinked.

“Not quite the same but I did get a DUI on a military base,” you admitted. Bob huffed out a laugh and you couldn’t help but join in. “You weren’t the only one who screwed up.”

He turned towards you with the last box in hand. Opening it, he huffed in triumph. His papers stared back at him. “Found it,” bob said holding the papers up.

“That’s great,” you said. Bob looked up and you were standing really close. He finally notice you in a way he hadn’t in years, or so you thought. In truth he hadn’t been doing a very good job of not looking at you the entire time. The curve of your neck, swell of breasts, your legs. He loved your legs.

You were staring at his lips. Tension of a different kind bled into the air. A red flag waved in your head. Bob had abandoned you for meth. He was a recovering addict. You hadn’t seen him in years.

But you’d been strong for years. Being the one to hold things together for everyone else. The one who put themselves last. Took care of everything after your parents died. And yeah this was a bad idea. But it was yours and Bob looked like he needed it just as badly so you kissed him.

He froze for a second before turning towards you better. He sat the box on the table before sliding his hands around your waist. He touched you as if you were made of glass.

You turned him towards the bed. He let you push him to sit on the mattress. Your kisses were wild and desperate. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sat on his lap. Grinding your hips against him had him gasping and pulling back.

“Wait, do you want to-“

“Yeah,” you nodded before giving him a kiss. “I really wanna.”

“Okay, yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Condoms?”

“Bedside table, top drawer,” you replied. Bob reached over and opened the drawer. He huffed a little laugh.

“All kinds of fun stuff here,” he noted as your sex toys and lube was in there too.

“Later,” you said. You grabbed a couple of condoms and tossed them on the bed. He nodded quickly. You pulled off your shirt and Bob copied your action. You couldn’t help but stop and stare at his new abs. “Holy shit, you’re buff.”

He laughed awkwardly.

“These,” he replied while cupping your breasts softly, reverently. “Are the same yet different from what I remember. Much better than memory.”

You snorted at that. “Much better than the one time I let you touch them when we skipped chemistry in the tenth grade?”

“Oh yeah,” Bob answered with a grin. “So much better.” He rubbed his thumb over your nipple gently. You arched into his touch and he pressed his lips to your chest between your breasts before slowly kissing towards one. You sighed when you felt his lips on your nipple. Cradling his head in your arms, you ground your hips against him already hardening.

One hand held your side and the other reached down to the waistband of your shorts. Your breath stuttered as he slid the hand into your panties. Bob groaned a little when he felt wetness on his fingers. When was the last time he had sex? Couldn’t remember. And it definitely wasn’t with someone he really liked. And probably wasn’t sober.

His fingers dipped into your heat before slowly sliding in and out. You were no longer pressing against him but instead your hips were rocking to meet the thrust of his fingers. Little gasps left your mouth. Bob loved it.

“Take off your pants,” you whined. Bob pulled back to nod again. His face was flushed and lips ruddy. You climbed off his lap and pushed down your shorts and panties. He lifted his hips to shove down his pants. You couldn’t help but stare. It had admittedly been years since you gave him that handjob in the back of a movie theatre. But had he gotten bigger since?

“Jesus, Bob. Do you have a license for that thing,” you joked. He looked down while attempting to stutter out an answer. You cupped his cheek, silencing him. “I like it.” You climbed back on his lap and grasped his cock. You slid on a condom.

Bob’s eyes half shuttered and his mouth fell open. You could tell it had been a while for him. You pressed him against you and pushed in. A whine left your lips as you felt the stretch. Bob ran a hand soothingly across your back and kissed your shoulder encouragingly.

“Take your time,” he whispered. He was literally trembling at the intense sensation but resisted the urge to buck up. Remembering what to do to ease the pressure, he reached down to rub circles on your clit. You pushed down until fully seated on him. Bob kissed your shoulder, neck, ear, and anywhere else he could reach while giving you the time you needed.

You slowly started moving your hips and he whimpered.

“It’s been a while so if I don’t last,” he breathed.

You were far more wound up than you thought you’d be. “Me neither,” you replied. He kept the tight circles on your clit. You kissed his lips and held his face as you rode him. Bob thought and hoped you were close with the way you tightened around him.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped. He nodded.

The kisses became messier and less organized. Your lips and tongue pressed together and you both moaned against each other. You ignored the burn in your thighs.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned before clenching around him. Bob trembled trying not to cum. “Cum with me,” you breathed with your eyes closed and head pushed back. He whined before cumming as well.

Bob held you up against him as you both panted. After a few breaths you climbed off and let him take care of the condom situation. He came back in the room staring at you laid across your bed. You looked less tense and somehow more beautiful.

You opened your arms and Bob’s face had a lopsided grin of relief that you weren’t kicking him out. He climbed in bed. You immediately tangled your legs in his and laid on his chest. Bob kissed your temple.

“I didn’t plan on coming over here to do that. But I can’t say I regret it,” he said. You chuckled a little.

“Yeah, I know. Are you back here for good?” You asked and he pulled back with a sigh. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“No, I’m in New York now.”

“Fancy,” you replied. “Too bad. I was going to say we should do this more often.”

Bob started coughing as he choked on his own spit. “Sorry! Sorry,” he said between coughs.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied before clearing his throat. “I’d love to do this more often. But I don’t see how that would work.”

“Yeah.”

Knocking at the door broke the moment.

“Yelena,” Bob gasped. He had forgotten that she had brought him over to your place.

“Is she your girlfriend?” You asked suddenly apprehensive. You sat up and grabbed your clothes.

“What, no! No, she’s a coworker. She’s also gay,” Bob said with sudden understanding of your thoughts. “But she’ll burst in if I don’t answer.”

He threw his clothes on quickly. You climbed off the bed and tossed him his sweater.

“Bob,” you said to him as he was shoving his foot in his shoe. He turned and you pulled him close into a hug. “Call me,” you grinned shyly.

He nodded again. “Absolutely.” He shoved the sweater over his head. He turned towards the door again.

“Bob,” you said once again. He turned and you shoved his papers in his hand and pulled him into a kiss. You pulled back and attempted to straighten his hair. His eyes lingered on you for a second before the banging started at the door again.

“Thanks. I’ll call you,” he replied before kissing you one last time, soundly.

“Bob! I know you’re there,” Yelena called. He glanced back at you before leaving. You smiled at him before letting him go. You sat back down, naked on your bed, thinking about the last hour.

You could hear them talking through the paper thin apartment walls.

“Bob, you dog,” Yelena teased. Bob stuttered out some denial. “Good for you Bob. Just don’t break her heart.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Good, now take me to get something to eat,” you heard her say as they walked away.

[butwhyduh]

Back Home

Bob Floyd x reader

Warning/summary: Bob gets home from a mission and you have your own agenda. Smutty but cute.

You sat the pan on the potholder on the table. A fan lazily turned overhead marginally tempered the summer heat. Cheap government housing never had enough AC no matter where you had lived. Hair stuck to the back of your neck. What possessed you to use the oven in July? You had to want lasagna today. You reached in the freezer and grabbed an ice cube, running it over your skin.

You heard the sound of gravel crunching and you looked out the window. Bob’s ancient yellow truck he had been working on forever pulled into the drive. You grinned.

He had been gone for a month doing something that the navy needed. At this pointed you didn’t even try to ask. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell you anything and the little bit you could hear was too stressful. Blocking out the fact that Bob’s job could kill him probably wasn’t the healthiest way to deal but it was the cheapest.

Now you were just human like anyone else and when your man is gone for a month, you missed him terribly. The wheels start turning, especially at night, alone. And you started having a fantasy of what you’d do to Bob when he comes home.

And that is the excuse you’d use of why you suddenly reached under your skirt and pulled off your underwear and hid them behind a couch pillow like a madwoman. He’d flip out in a good way if he came home to you and he realized you weren’t wearing any panties. He was a sweetheart but he was still a man.

You heard him opening the door and you tried to dampen down the mischievous grin you currently sported. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you were grinning at him like a psycho.

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” he called from the hallway. The unmistakable sound of his heavy duffle bag and boots being dropped by the door could be heard.

“Hey! Bob, you’re back,” you said before meeting him in the doorway to the kitchen. He wrapped you in a big hug before kissing you soundly. You grabbed the lapel of his khaki uniform and pulled him closer. It threw him off balance and he reached out to grab the doorframe.

“Woah, honey,” he said with a laugh. You flushed and laughed against his neck. He ran a hand across your back softly, with restraint.

“Sorry, I just missed you,” you replied shyly.

“Me too. Me too. Are you cooking? It smells great in here,” he said. You reached up and straightened his glasses that had gotten lopsided during the kissing.

“Yeah, lasagna,” you said. “It’s done but way too hot. Which means we have.” You kissed him again before whispering, “a little time.” You looked at him suggestively.

“I’ve missed my girl,” he murmured before pulling you into another searing kiss. This Bob might be your favorite. He was always a restrained gentleman and you loved him for it. But the way his hands pulled a little closer, his kisses were a little deeper. A month at sea had made Bob’s restraint wear thin.

You pulled back just to breathe in his ear, “take me to bed, Lieutenant.” His breath trembled a little. His hands grabbed at your thighs and pulled you up in his arms. You wrapped your arms and legs around him. You planted wet kisses all along his jaw and throat.

He kicked the bedroom door open.

“Bob!” You gasped with a laugh.

“Sorry, honey,” he replied sheepishly. He laid you on the bed. You opened your legs and he looked down. His breath stuttered again.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” his voice broke. Bob started quickly pulling off his uniform. As you watched, you pulled your shirt up and grabbed both breasts, playing with your nipples. You could see the muscles in his chest and stomach move as he breathed heavier. He groaned and yanked his belt off. “God, you look good,” he said sounding wrecked.

Bob was so fucking pretty. His cheeks were flushed and lips red. His eyes looked dark and hungry. And he somehow always looked at you like you were the special one.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for days, weeks,” he said. Bob didn’t often talk during but when he did, you loved it. “And nothing,” he continued placing his knee on the bed. “Compares to the reality.” He grabbed your thigh and pushed his knee beneath it before repeating on the other side. Your skirt was bunched around your hips. Bob sat there just looking at you like he was memorizing the curves of your body. And in truth he was.

The way the cool air on your breasts pebbles your nipples. Your hair spread out on the mattress. The soft curve of your hips and legs. The glistening wetness of your pussy on display for him. The way you stared at him. Your body throbbed for him.

“Floyd, if you don’t fuck me now,” you said after a bit. You weren’t that damn patient. He huffed out a laugh before bending over you.

“Did my girl miss me?” He murmured. You nodded before grabbing his glasses and placed them to the side. He kissed you so gently as he pushed in. You gasped in his mouth. His tongue slid in your mouth before moving his hips slowly dragging his cock in and out. The kiss like the fucking was soft and gentle. So controlled. So reverent.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he groaned at the new angle. His careful wall was crumbling. “God, you’re so fucking soft,” he groaned. You moaned at that. You didn’t often get Bob to curse. “So wet.”

You could feel the tremble as he held back. Such a good man.

“Bobby, fuck me,” you whimpered. He whined. “More. I want more.”

“Goddamn baby,” Bob replied. His hips snapped harder pressing you into the mattress. He adjusted his arms to go on one elbow with arm behind your shoulder. His other hand moved down your body. He grabbed a tit before going down to find your clit. It had taken some coaching at first but now he knew exactly how to rub tight circles around it to get you there.

“Oh Bob,” you gasped. You used one hand to grab his back feeling the muscles move as he fucked you. The other mover down to his ass to feel it moving. “Don’t stop!”

Bob nodded roughly. He watched the way your cheeks flushed and felt your hips rocked up to meet him. The tremble of your legs before you let out a few gasps of breath were always the give away for impending orgasm. He groaned as you came around him. You clenched around him so tight he could barely move.

“Cum in me,” you whimpered. He moaned before cumming inside. You rocked together in pleasure. Your lips pressed together messily. Bob finally stopped moving to pant heavily against your throat.

“Well that’s a hell of a welcome home,” he joked before sliding out. He kissed your cheek before manhandling you up to the top of the bed and into his arm. He was so sweet and gentle with you that it was easy to forget how strong he was.

“Love you,” you said looking at him like he was the moon. “I missed you so bad.”

“I missed you too,” he replied. He laid on his back and you laid half on his chest looking down at him. He gently rubbed circles in your back and placed soft kisses to your face.

“Dinner is ready,” you reminded him. “And lieutenant, just know. Afterwards I fully intend to ride you.”

You moved to get out of bed.

“How am I supposed to function after you say that?” He replied as he grabbed his glasses.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” you said adjusting your clothes with a grin.

“I think you might kill me,” he mused while standing up. He threw on some basketball shorts.

“You survived the navy. I think you’ll be fine.”

[butwhyduh]

Back Home

Bob Floyd x reader

Warning/summary: Bob gets home from a mission and you have your own agenda. Smutty but cute.

You sat the pan on the potholder on the table. A fan lazily turned overhead marginally tempered the summer heat. Cheap government housing never had enough AC no matter where you had lived. Hair stuck to the back of your neck. What possessed you to use the oven in July? You had to want lasagna today. You reached in the freezer and grabbed an ice cube, running it over your skin.

You heard the sound of gravel crunching and you looked out the window. Bob’s ancient yellow truck he had been working on forever pulled into the drive. You grinned.

He had been gone for a month doing something that the navy needed. At this pointed you didn’t even try to ask. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell you anything and the little bit you could hear was too stressful. Blocking out the fact that Bob’s job could kill him probably wasn’t the healthiest way to deal but it was the cheapest.

Now you were just human like anyone else and when your man is gone for a month, you missed him terribly. The wheels start turning, especially at night, alone. And you started having a fantasy of what you’d do to Bob when he comes home.

And that is the excuse you’d use of why you suddenly reached under your skirt and pulled off your underwear and hid them behind a couch pillow like a madwoman. He’d flip out in a good way if he came home to you and he realized you weren’t wearing any panties. He was a sweetheart but he was still a man.

You heard him opening the door and you tried to dampen down the mischievous grin you currently sported. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you were grinning at him like a psycho.

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” he called from the hallway. The unmistakable sound of his heavy duffle bag and boots being dropped by the door could be heard.

“Hey! Bob, you’re back,” you said before meeting him in the doorway to the kitchen. He wrapped you in a big hug before kissing you soundly. You grabbed the lapel of his khaki uniform and pulled him closer. It threw him off balance and he reached out to grab the doorframe.

“Woah, honey,” he said with a laugh. You flushed and laughed against his neck. He ran a hand across your back softly, with restraint.

“Sorry, I just missed you,” you replied shyly.

“Me too. Me too. Are you cooking? It smells great in here,” he said. You reached up and straightened his glasses that had gotten lopsided during the kissing.

“Yeah, lasagna,” you said. “It’s done but way too hot. Which means we have.” You kissed him again before whispering, “a little time.” You looked at him suggestively.

“I’ve missed my girl,” he murmured before pulling you into another searing kiss. This Bob might be your favorite. He was always a restrained gentleman and you loved him for it. But the way his hands pulled a little closer, his kisses were a little deeper. A month at sea had made Bob’s restraint wear thin.

You pulled back just to breathe in his ear, “take me to bed, Lieutenant.” His breath trembled a little. His hands grabbed at your thighs and pulled you up in his arms. You wrapped your arms and legs around him. You planted wet kisses all along his jaw and throat.

He kicked the bedroom door open.

“Bob!” You gasped with a laugh.

“Sorry, honey,” he replied sheepishly. He laid you on the bed. You opened your legs and he looked down. His breath stuttered again.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” his voice broke. Bob started quickly pulling off his uniform. As you watched, you pulled your shirt up and grabbed both breasts, playing with your nipples. You could see the muscles in his chest and stomach move as he breathed heavier. He groaned and yanked his belt off. “God, you look good,” he said sounding wrecked.

Bob was so fucking pretty. His cheeks were flushed and lips red. His eyes looked dark and hungry. And he somehow always looked at you like you were the special one.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for days, weeks,” he said. Bob didn’t often talk during but when he did, you loved it. “And nothing,” he continued placing his knee on the bed. “Compares to the reality.” He grabbed your thigh and pushed his knee beneath it before repeating on the other side. Your skirt was bunched around your hips. Bob sat there just looking at you like he was memorizing the curves of your body. And in truth he was.

The way the cool air on your breasts pebbles your nipples. Your hair spread out on the mattress. The soft curve of your hips and legs. The glistening wetness of your pussy on display for him. The way you stared at him. Your body throbbed for him.

“Floyd, if you don’t fuck me now,” you said after a bit. You weren’t that damn patient. He huffed out a laugh before bending over you.

“Did my girl miss me?” He murmured. You nodded before grabbing his glasses and placed them to the side. He kissed you so gently as he pushed in. You gasped in his mouth. His tongue slid in your mouth before moving his hips slowly dragging his cock in and out. The kiss like the fucking was soft and gentle. So controlled. So reverent.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and he groaned at the new angle. His careful wall was crumbling. “God, you’re so fucking soft,” he groaned. You moaned at that. You didn’t often get Bob to curse. “So wet.”

You could feel the tremble as he held back. Such a good man.

“Bobby, fuck me,” you whimpered. He whined. “More. I want more.”

“Goddamn baby,” Bob replied. His hips snapped harder pressing you into the mattress. He adjusted his arms to go on one elbow with arm behind your shoulder. His other hand moved down your body. He grabbed a tit before going down to find your clit. It had taken some coaching at first but now he knew exactly how to rub tight circles around it to get you there.

“Oh Bob,” you gasped. You used one hand to grab his back feeling the muscles move as he fucked you. The other mover down to his ass to feel it moving. “Don’t stop!”

Bob nodded roughly. He watched the way your cheeks flushed and felt your hips rocked up to meet him. The tremble of your legs before you let out a few gasps of breath were always the give away for impending orgasm. He groaned as you came around him. You clenched around him so tight he could barely move.

“Cum in me,” you whimpered. He moaned before cumming inside. You rocked together in pleasure. Your lips pressed together messily. Bob finally stopped moving to pant heavily against your throat.

“Well that’s a hell of a welcome home,” he joked before sliding out. He kissed your cheek before manhandling you up to the top of the bed and into his arm. He was so sweet and gentle with you that it was easy to forget how strong he was.

“Love you,” you said looking at him like he was the moon. “I missed you so bad.”

“I missed you too,” he replied. He laid on his back and you laid half on his chest looking down at him. He gently rubbed circles in your back and placed soft kisses to your face.

“Dinner is ready,” you reminded him. “And lieutenant, just know. Afterwards I fully intend to ride you.”

You moved to get out of bed.

“How am I supposed to function after you say that?” He replied as he grabbed his glasses.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” you said adjusting your clothes with a grin.

“I think you might kill me,” he mused while standing up. He threw on some basketball shorts.

“You survived the navy. I think you’ll be fine.”

[butwhyduh]

If y’all announce you’re having a 5th, Hangman would start a cash drive to get y’all a tv for the bedroom. ‘You kids need other hobbies.’ BOB really would mean baby on board because he’s starting his own squadron.

Bob Floyd would be the guy to have a row of family stickers on the back of his wife’s minivan because he’s got at least 3 kids and the daggers regularly joke for Bob to ‘get off her man’ if they announce they’re having another.

that is so real omg. bob has built a life for himself with you by his side and he’s proud of it. there is nothing sweeter for him than coming home to you and the kids already at the dinner table. it’s only natural for him to try and incorporate his family into everything.

including decorating the car.

he doesn’t get angry at the others for teasing him about having yet another kid, but he does roll his eyes at it every time. how was he supposed to stay away from you when you’re the most beautiful woman he had ever seen? he loved you and quite frankly, he loved how you looked pregnant. there was a glow to your skin and your eyes for 9 months, convincing him that you were actually just an angel sent to him.

he buys a fourth sticker for the car as soon as he finds out you’re pregnant again. maybe there‘s still some space left for a fifth?

[butwhyduh]

While it is wildly entertaining to read about the void fucking, I personally find it funny since he’s the physical embodiment of Bob’s depression lows. And idk about y’all but when I’m having depression lows, the only think I’m fucking is depressed.

[butwhyduh]

“How’s your WIP going?”

"Have you made any progress?”

“How close are you to being done?”

[butwhyduh]

I’m sorry for these awful pickup lines but someone has to hear them- top gun edition

Are you a WZO? I’d let you be my back seater

Are you 5000 feet? Because I’ve been thinking about your hard deck.

Are you the enemy? I’ve got radar locked on you.

You’re not an MRE, you’re a pre-deployment steak and lobster.

Are you a navigation display? Because I’d be lost without you.

Do you have a seatbelt because I’m gonna take you on a wild ride

Is your name Boot Camp? Because you’ve got me sweating bullets

I don’t need a parachute; I’m already falling for you

You must be a high-value target, because I can’t take my eyes off you

[butwhyduh]

I’m sorry for these awful pickup lines but someone has to hear them- top gun edition

Are you a WZO? I’d let you be my back seater

Are you 5000 feet? Because I’ve been thinking about your hard deck.

Are you the enemy? I’ve got radar locked on you.

You’re not an MRE, you’re a pre-deployment steak and lobster.

Are you a navigation display? Because I’d be lost without you.

Do you have a seatbelt because I’m gonna take you on a wild ride

Is your name Boot Camp? Because you’ve got me sweating bullets

I don’t need a parachute; I’m already falling for you

You must be a high-value target, because I can’t take my eyes off you

[butwhyduh]

Y/n: need me a man like that.

Bob: heyyy

Y/n: no

Bob: it’s literally me

Void: heyyy

Y/n: nOOOo