#Bob Floyd headcanon

[lulunothulu]

“Yes, sir.”

Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob is known to be the sweet and shy one of the Dagger Squat. Little do they know, as soon as he comes home to you, he sheds that persona—but only for you.

Content: 18+ smut, some fluff, a hungry Bob 😏

I feel like it’s canon that Bob fucks so let’s let him fuck us…for science 💗😇 Enjoy!!

Robert Floyd was many things. Shy? Yes. Quiet? Sure. But he was not one to leave his girl longing for anything. That’s why when you’d texted him, asking him to come home straight after work, he didn’t hesitate to make sure he did as soon as he was dismissed for the day.

“Baby on board!” Hangman calls out in the locker room. “Where are you going in a hurry?”

“Um, home?” He responds.

“I thought you were coming to Hard Deck with us,” Bradley says, poking his head from behind a locker door.

Fuck he said that didn’t he?

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Can we rain check?”

Hangman smiles, a knowing look practically shooting out of his eyes. “It’s your girl isn’t it?”

Bob only blushes, stammering, “Wh-why, well, umm…”

“Don’t worry,” Hangman smiles and winks at him. “My Darlin’ is the same way. You go get to her.”

Bob almost choked on his saliva, Bradley does it for him and causes Jake to turn around in surprise.

“What?!” Bradley asks when he’s calmed down.

“‘What’ what?” Jake asks back. “You didn’t know baby on board had a girl?”

“Nat told me about her but I thought she was pulling my leg,” Bradley responds.

Bob can hear Jake tell him something but that’s when he steps out of the locker room and heads toward the parking lot. Reaching his truck, Bob pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before starting his drive home.

———

Pulling into the driveway of y'all's small home, Bob was anxious to get inside. From the text you'd send him about an hour ago, it sounded like you urgently needed him home after work.

Bounding for the front door, Bob swings it open expecting to see you in tears. However, he finds you seated on the kitchen island in nothing but a white lacy set of lingerie and matching stockings. On your feet are the heels you reserve when you're feeling extra fun.

Racking his brain, Bob tries to remember if there was something important happening today.

His birthday isn't for another few months, yours already passed...an anniversary?

You chuckle, watching your boyfriend try to think of what could've prompted this look.

"Are you gonna mull over what why I'm dressed like this, or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?" you ask, a smirk on your lips.

Bob nods, dropping his bag at the entryway before closing and locking the front door and practically running to kiss you.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs against your lips.

"Hi, Bobby," you respond, smiling into the kiss he presses to your lips.

He pulls away to take you in, admiring the way the flimsy fabric sits on your body.

Bob's navy eyes darken, turning almost midnight blue with lust and desire. "You did this for me?"

You nod, biting your lip and smiling.

Bob's eyes practically undress you as they roam down your body. He licks his thin lips before smiling and taking his glasses off, hooking them on the neckline of his shirt. You watch as he drops to his knee before you, a smirk appearing and face transforming to the alter ego Bob takes on when he fucks you.

"Are my dinner tonight?" he asks, voice deep and gravely. When you nod, he clicks his tongue. "You know I like when you use your words, Princess."

You hold in your smile before finally speaking. "Yes, I'm dinner for tonight. Unless you want something, then I can—”

Bob stops you, kissing the top of your thighs before opening them and kissing from the inside of your knee toward your pulsing core.

"What was that?" he asks between kisses.

"Nothing," you sigh, watching as his eyes slowly raise to meet your own.

He pulls you closer to him, smiling when you yelp at the motion. He resumes kissing up your other thigh until he reaches the thin fabric of your lacy thong.

The sensation of his breathing on top of your pulsing clit makes you whimper, causing Bob to chuckle against you. A chill runs down your spine when he kisses you over the fabric.

"Lift your hips," Bob orders.

When you do, he pulls the thong down, bringing the stockings down with before slowly pulling your heels off and peeling the rest of the thong and stockings off. He throws them to the side, smiling down at your cunt before squinting and pulling his glasses on.

"Keep them on," you tell him.

"They look dorky," he laughs.

"And I like how dorky you look in them," you smile.

Bob's eyes darken behind those circular lenses before he lowers himself back to your core and kisses your clit.

Warmth and electricity ignite from that spot, up your stomach, and then back down your legs. When he licks you from the bottom of your entrance to the tip of your clit, you moan his name.

“Fuck, Bobby,” you say, back arching a bit off the counter.

Bob chuckles, sending vibrations to your clit where his mouth is lightly sucking.

Another thing about Bob…he was a ravenous pussy eater. Once he starts, he won’t stop until you’re a shaking mess under him.

Moving his mouth, Bob laps your entrance, fucking you with his tongue and moaning at the taste of you. His nose continues where his tongue once was, nudging and flicking your clit as he eats you out.

Your hands fly to his hair, pulling lightly and gently moving his face back and forth, hips grinding into him.

You were so close, you could feel the wave or orgasms crashing into the lower part of your belly and you were desperate to let it go.

“Bobby!” You exclaim. “I’m so fucking close! Oh my god!”

Bob continues his licking, the tip of his dick pressing into his pants at the sounds of your unraveling. He smiles into your pussy when you finally come, sweet and tang coating his lips and tongue.

He only stops when you pull his head away from you.

Standing, Bob grabs the back of your neck before kissing you deeply. The taste of you still on his tongue making you smile and immediately feel that pulsing between your legs again.

“Stand up, baby,” he says, voice gruff and sending shivers down your body.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you smile.

Bob’s hand slapping your ass as he turns you around makes you giggle in delight. You knew exactly what you were doing. You only call him Lieutenant when you were feeling extra and right now…you were feeling it.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He growls against your ear.

“Yes, sir,” you mutter.

He slaps your ass again, a yelp of delight coming from your lips.

“Louder,” he orders.

“Yes, sir!” You cry out.

Bob squats down, spreading your ass before licking your cunt and up your ass.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out.

Bob kisses up your back, one hand on your waist and the other undoing his pants. He lets you go to pull his pants clean down and stepping out of the pile.

His erect dick presses into your bum, making you moan and grind against it. Stopping you, Bob grabs your neck, kissing harshly.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He moans in your ear. “That outfit gets me so fucking hard.”

“I feel it, sir,” you tell him.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He asks, nibbling on the sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!”

Bob lines himself to your entrance, careful to angle himself to a position that’s comfortable for you before starting to thrust into you.

You’re tight. Almost too tight, Bob has to think of something else to keep from coming inside you at that second.

As he thrusts, you clench around him, walls wet and soft around him—making him speed his pace and mutter a fuck.

He can feel just how deep he is, and he can’t help but pound into you harder. The thought of being able to get himself completely in your cunt makes his head swim in lustful damnation.

He pulls out, spinning you around before lifting you in his arms.

“What’re you do—”

You don’t have time to finish what you were going to say because Bob is sinking you down onto his cock, gliding you up and down as he bucks up into you.

“Oh my god,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“No,” he growls. “Open your eyes when I fuck you.”

You obey, eyes locking on his navy ones and mouth forming an ‘o’.

He smiles at you before moaning. “You look so pretty taking my cock in the air.”

You moan in response, unable to form words. He walks you to a wall, pressing your back into it and speeding his pace again.

“Fuck baby,” he mutters, eyes still on you. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Come on my face,” you tell him.

“Come on my face, sir.” He corrects.

You smile. “Come on my face, daddy.”

Holy shit. Bob was gonna combust right inside you if you keep looking at him like that.

Pulling himself out of you and setting you in the floor gently, Bob watches as you get you to knees, mouth open and eyes still on his.

Pumping the last bit of orgasm to the tip, he spills all over your face with a groan.

He watches as you use your fingers to push his come into your mouth, making a show to swallow before opening your mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you, grabbing your hair and kissing you deeply.

“I love you,” you tell him when he pulls away.

“I love you more, Princess.” He tells you, helping you to your feet before sweeping his arms under your legs and carrying you to y’all’s room. “Now, let’s shower so we can go for a round two.”

Wheeeew…something’s crying between my legs. What..?

Tag: @sweetwhispersofchaos @ginghampearlsnsweettea @caystar13star @shinycupcakebaker @sunsetsimpsblog

[beachbabey]

Bob Floyd, as far as he can tell, was only ever known as “your boy”

Whether that be from Natasha, asking you where he was, him being uncharacteristically late to a briefing, having to lie through your teeth instead of telling her that he was currently in your bunk, scrambling to find his dog tags, completely unaware you’d snuck them underneath your shirt, she’d later murmur something underneath her breath in the rec room. 

“Your boy forgot his tags today, wonder how that happened?”

Whether it was by Jake, teasing him for only asking you if you wanted another beer, never anybody else. 

“How’d you get your boy so obedient huh?” 

Whether it be from yourself, breathing the words possessively into his mouth as you rode him 

“My boy’s so good for me, my boy, all mine, you are mine, aren’t you Bobby?”

[writingdumpster]

top gun head canon:

Bob always gets nervous when he gets a new pilot bc of how nerdy and small he looks. They always pick on him at first. Phoenix is obviously gonna get a lot of WSO’s who don’t treat her well bc she’s a woman. Phoenix was the first pilot that didn’t say anything to Bob about the way he looked and Bob was the first WSO that didn’t say anything about Phoenix being a woman.

[garfield-mug]

Lights

A/N: Written for Liz's (@sailor-aviator) Christmas Challenge! There was too much shit happening the past few weeks for me to write full fics, so please enjoy these fluffy headcanons instead!

Pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!Reader

Word: Lights

Warnings: none

bob did really enjoy christmas.

since he was little, it had been his favorite holiday. he enjoyed the presents and cookies and seeing extended family, sure, but his absolute favorite part about christmas were the lights.

every year on christmas eve, him and his siblings would pile into the car with their parents and slowly drive through the streets of a few different neighborhoods in town to see the lights.

some houses had no lights, others changed out their porch lights to bulbs of red and green. a few were completely decked out, strings of vibrant, dazzling lights from rooftop to driveway, all blinking in time to whatever christmas song was playing at the time. if little bob had to guess, he'd say those people had miles and miles of string lights wrapping their homes (as an adult, he can't comprehend the sheer cost of their electric bill). there was one house that had a lawn completely filled with different blow-up lawn ornaments. bob didn't really like that one, he thought it was much too busy.

his favorite house, by far, every year was a one story cape cod. it wasn't the most flashy, it didn't have all the bells and whistles. the trim of the roof and the pillar supporting it over the front porch were lined with soft, delicate vintage bulbs, casting a soft yellow glow across the drive and front yard. it was simple in its beauty. it was like the house knew (and the people living in it) that it didn't need to be bright and flashy to be beautiful. bob thought it was absolutely enchanting.

he found his mind drifting back to that house every christmas after he moved away and joined the navy, forever at the beck and call of uncle sam.

he pictured that house when he was on long deployments and craved a moment of peace and quiet. a tranquil winter scene played out before him: the golden glow of the lights gently washing over him as he closed his eyes, leaning into the feeling of the chilled air around him, enjoying the serene silence that winter brought every year.

when he opened his eyes, he was back on the aircraft carrier, but he was also a touch calmer, a touch more grounded.

it's a lot like how bob felt after he met you.

one fateful day during fleet week, and one guided tour later, bob landed your number and a date.

thankfully, it worked out and now you're coming up on your second christmas together.

you knew bob loved the christmas lights every year, and you had every intention of going all out in your apartment, but things just did not go your way.

life was life-ing.

work was extra busy in the weeks leading up to the holiday. longer hours meant less time to do things around the house and more time to dwell on how things weren't going how you planned.

you somehow managed to get the tree up just in time for your next date night, lights on, and ornaments in a bin for you and bob to put on together.

despite all the last minute decorating, you still didn't find yourself in a particularly festive mood.

frustrated, a little bit sad, and a lot exhausted, you decided to lie down on the floor, head under the tree. bleary eyes looked up through the fake branches, watching the vintage bulbs twinkle and sparkle.

so lost in your thoughts, you didn't hear bob come through the door and call your name.

"honey?" he calls again, confused, as he walks into the living area.

bob didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't his girlfriend lying on the floor with her head under the tree. a bit of a strange sight, but a smile spreads across his lips as he watches you for a moment. he knows this time of year can be tough on you.

he shrugs off his jacket and makes his way over to your spot on the floor, taking your lead as he lays beside you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"what are we doing?" he asks, voice soft and sweet as he turns to face you.

"lights." you vaguely gesture to the tree above your heads.

"lights?"

"lights."

you grab his hand and lace your fingers together.

[lulunothulu]

lol but imagine Bob doing this every time you (his bestie) and someone from the Dagger Squad do something so idiotic he can’t look.

“Please, just don’t tell me what you did,” Bob says. “I don’t want to be an accessory to whatever you got yourselves into.”

a moodboard, of sorts

[dearsnow]

12:29 AM

- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert ��bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)

word count: 1,502

a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.

It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.

Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”

“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”

Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.

Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”

You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.

Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”

With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.

He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.

“Wife.”

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.

You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”

His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.

“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.

“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.

“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”

He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”

A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”

His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”

“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”

“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.

You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.

You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.

He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”

You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.

“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.

“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.

“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.

When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.�� He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.

“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.

Taglist: @seitmai

[lieutenantfloyd]

Random Bob Headcanons

He was raised by his grandparents who were peanut farmers and has yet to piece together why he gets so itchy after eating his favorite snack (he has a mild peanut allergy)

He got his first pair of prescription glasses a week before his first birthday

His prescription isn't actually very strong, but he has a double astigmatism so things are super blurry without his glasses

Didn’t have many friends growing up, and spent most of his time reading or exploring outdoors

Was always called an old soul by elders (but was actually just undiagnosed autistic)

His special interest is 1950s appliances

His car and house furnishings are all from the era too

has chronic headaches but has never mentioned it to anyone

Doesn't drink because of sensory issues and strong food aversions

Has many small collections (buttons, pins, and old lighters)

Whenever there’s down time the daggers know Bob is hiding somewhere and reading a book

 His favorite genre is romance

Has a very detailed morning and night time routine

Takes himself on solo dates because he’s too nervous to ask anyone to go with him

Goes to yard sales and antique shops whenever he free time

Took up swing dancing as a hobby and is actually fantastic at it

Is a great cook but eats cereal for dinner every night

Loves to bake and has the other daggers test his recipes

Gets crushes SO easily

He became super sassy as a defense mechanism in school

He has very strong values and prides himself on being a gentleman

[machveil]

An idea: Konig has quite the flat ass, the only region of him that leaves anything to be desired I would say. The solution to this problem? Make him play hockey. Gives him that hockey butt, you get to watch him do those lil slutty leg stretches on the ice, and he's built for being a goalie planted firmly in the net even if he has no coordination on skates.

I hear hockey, I tag @tojisun🎀✨

König is coordinated and precise on the job, I need his ass to look like a newborn giraffe on the ice. a wobbly giant slowly trembling his way along the side of the rink. humiliating. god forbid his KorTac mates come along. grumbling and cursing under his breath as he hugs the wall

THE HOCKEY STRETCHES THOUGH? oh pookie, the hip thrusts? in case you don’t know what I’m talking about (YT link), you’d have to restrain me. heavily. man is getting jumped as soon as he’s off the ice

[stickparrot]

These five little nerds has been hovering in my brain for a month so congrats

What do you mean I dont have type (lie)

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Mamma Mia | Masterlist

summary: Going back to your hometown for a summer sounded like a good plan before you started your graduate program, what you didn’t count on was having three whirlwind romances with Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, and Bradley ‘Rooster’Bradshaw. And much less, that you would end up pregnant by the end of the summer after they all graduated Top Gun and left. Six years later, Rooster, Hangman, and Bob are called back for a mission and they see you again. Now, with a six-year-old daughter that somehow they think looks exactly like them.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, smut 18+, raising a child alone. warnings will be added as the story progresses.

bradley 'rooster' bradshaw masterlist

jake 'hangman' seresin masterlist

playlist

prologue | chapter one | chapter two| chapter three | chapter four* | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven (scheduled a week from now- read early on my KO-FII!!!)

updates on monday, wednesday, friday

also, smut:*

[lulunothulu]

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Latina Reader

Summary: Bob doesn’t drink but when he does, he turns into Hangman 2.0

Content: flirty Bob, 18+ some touching, kissing

For the sake of this fic, you’re a beautiful Latina baddie also bc I’m selfish and wanna see more Latina rep. in fics lol

Hard deck was unusually louder than any other Friday night. There were ten times more people here because of Labor Day weekend and Bob didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Baby On Board!” Jake shouts over the noise. “Why don’t you drink and mingle? Maybe finding a girl to fuck will do something good for you.”

Bob could smell the alcohol on Jake’s breath and he pinched his lips together.

I guess one night of drinking wouldn’t hurt.

Bob didn’t drink often. He wasn’t really a fan of the taste of beer, he preferred something fruity but drinking that in front of Jake would’ve definitely riled him up.

So instead, Bob took the beer Jake handed him and began to sip on it. Next thing he knew he was five beers in and smiling like an idiot at Natasha.

“What’re you smiling at?” She asks, a smile on her face.

“I think I wanna go mingle,” he slurs, looking around the room at all the beautiful women.

He stops when his eyes fall on her. She’s sitting in the back corner of the bar, laughing at something her friends say before her own eyes meet his.

He was in shock. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Big brown eyes so dark they were almost onyx, head full of unruly dark chocolate curls that fell down her back…and that smile. God that smile could’ve made a man melt right then and there.

“I’m talking to her,” Bob says as he begins to walk toward the beautiful girl he just laid eyes on.

~*~*~*~

You were sitting on a stool, sipping on the last of your beer as your friends talked about the aviators to your left.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend Kate slurs. “There’s a cute guy coming your way.”

You turn to your right to see a man in the khaki uniform Aviators in the Navy wear. His eyes are dark blue, basically navy. On his thin lips, a sloppy smile appears when you finally make eye contact with him.

“He’s cute,” you tell them.

“And he’s coming,” Kate laughs.

“Hi,” the man says, a hand placed on the table next to you. “I’m Bob.”

He’s even more handsome up close. His glasses are pushed down the bridge of his nose, so you reach up and lightly push them back up.

“Hi, Bob,” you respond. “I’m Y/N.”

“I saw you over there,” he starts, pointing to where his buddies watch. “And thought you were the most gorgeous woman in this bar.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

He blushes at your remark but leans in and whispers, “Wanna dance?”

~*~*~*~

A dance turned into two dances, and then those two dances turned into three dances, including your ass pressed up against his already hard dick—which then turned into you pulling Bob into a dark hallway.

His large hands desperately grasped at your hips, sliding up your body and tangling at your scalp. His lips expertly searching and hungrily chasing after yours to deepen the kiss.

To him, you were soft in so many ways. From your soft lips to the smoothness of your skin, Bob wanted to stay here. Hell, he’d live in this dark hallway if he could.

His hands rake down your sides again, they stay at the waistband of your jeans.

“Can I?” He asks, playing with the button.

“Please do.”

His fingers move quickly as they unbutton and unzip your jeans before his right hand slides down the front of your pants. They move between the slickness between your folds and you moan in agonizing want.

“You’re so wet already,” he groans.

His fingers move in a circular motion over your clit, pleasure ringing and erupting all over your body.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispers in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers,” you whisper back, surprising yourself in the process.

He smiles against you, snaking two fingers lower into your jeans before sliding up and into you.

He moves them slowly, making sure you’re comfortable with his touch. But when you start to groan and grind against his fingers, he quickens his pace—kissing and sucking on your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting a leg and feeling his other hand hold it up for you. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you come?” The vibration of his deep voice against your neck, sends a shiver down your spine and all you can do is nod.

Bob chuckles before quickening his pace inside you. It’s like his fingers know exactly where you need him to hit because each pound, every movement, is hitting exactly where you need him to be.

“I’m so close,” you moan.

“Come for me baby,” he groans. “Come on my fingers like a good girl.”

Obediently, you feel your body writhe in pleasure before shuddering an orgasm.

But Bob doesn’t stop.

He continues pumping into you, only stopping after you grab his wrist and pull his lips to yours.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be done for the night,” you mutter against his lips.

He pulls away, looking down at the beauty below him and is instantly struck with how beautiful you are up close. He realized it while you both were dancing, but the feel of your body grinding against him was clouding his brain. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.

You blink up at him. “Are you saying that because you want me to go home with you?”

“N-no! Well I-I wouldn’t mind,” he stutters. He clears his throat, searching your eyes before smirking. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

When your sweet laugh reaches his ears, he realizes you were joking and leans down close to your ear.

“You could definitely come home with me if that’s what you want.”

“Can we?” You ask sweetly, redoing your zipper and button. 

Bob leans down to kiss you one last time, grinding his hips against yours.

“Absolutely.”

“Then take me home, Bob.” You tell him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses you one last time before taking your hand and guiding you to the exit door.

Multiple people (your friends and his) whooping as you both walk out. 

Listen, I was in the mood for some Bob and let me tell you this has been in the works for the past week because I just could not get into it. So I apologize if it seems like this is all over the place. I just needed to get finger banged by Bob 😏



[glenscowboyhat]

thinkin about how much jake would spoil his friends on christmas. like he acts like a douche but plot twist he CARES!!!! he gets bob a model fighter jet that jake knows he’s always wanted. he gets bradley an expensive, foreign whiskey (or maybe bourbon) that bradley’s been looking all over for. he spoils the hell out of the other daggers i just know it. and if anyone tries to gush about how thoughtful he is, he denies every bit of it and acts like it’s no big deal. at the end of the day if his friends are happy he’s happy 🥹

[multifandomfanfic]

Meeting and Falling in Love with the Easy Company Boys (x f!reader)

A/N: These headcanons are my Secret Santa gift for the wonderful @hxad-ovxr-hxart (for @hbowardaily!'s yearly exchange)! I hope you enjoy them—this is the first thing I’ve ever made for Band of Brothers, despite being such a big fan. I had a lot of fun writing them! (BTW, I haven't watched BOB for a good six months, so I struggled a little with remembering what Talbert was like. I hope I did him justice.)

Characters: Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Ronald Speirs, Joe Liebgott, Floyd Talbert

Joe Toye

This man is my short king (there is no way he is 5'10")

He may seem tough on the outside, especially toward his friends, but I know he would be the most caring person in the world to you. I mean, he broke out of the hospital in Bastogne to rejoin Easy Company–can you imagine what else he would do?

I figure you two would meet while he was in the hospital in Bastogne or after Market Garden. You would be doing your daily rounds, changing bandages and making beds when you come to him. He immediately thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and thanks his lucky stars he ended up in your section.

He keeps requesting to see you, whether it’s under the guise of needing more medicine or needing someone to write his letters home for him (God, he thinks your handwriting is so pretty). It gets so tiring that your supervisor automatically sends you whenever he has an issue.

Of course, in an army hospital, there isn’t much Joe can do to try and be romantic, especially with a hundred other men needing your undivided attention. But he makes do with his pure charm and charisma, good looks, and maybe some candies he wrote home for. He makes sure to show you his brass knuckles and his plans to celebrate Joe Toye Day.

“Say, Y/N, when this war is over, how do you say we go out to dinner together? My treat.” Despite being bedridden, Joe’s affability shines through for you. You can’t help but laugh.

“Sure, Sergeant. I’d love to.”

As the war progresses and Joe goes back to active duty, you two exchange dozens and dozens of letters. They persist even as you’re both transferred to the most gruesome areas of the European theatre. He doesn’t sugarcoat it for you, but his stories of his friends and back home manage to light up your days. And he could say the same for the perfume and red lip-sticked kisses you leave on your letters.

He asks you to marry him in one letter (which he tried to keep hidden from the other men, until George found it and spread the news to all of Easy Company), and you immediately write back with a resounding YES!

Suddenly, though, the flow of letters to you goes cold. It isn’t until a few weeks later that his mother writes to you: Joe had lost his leg in Bastogne and was recovering in a hospital in Atlantic City. 

It was difficult getting through the latter months of the war knowing that an entire ocean separated you and Joe, but the letters and love continued. Once the war ended, you knew where you were going, and surprised him by his bedside in late May. 

“This is like déjà vu,” Joe chuckled, looking at you with all the adoration he could muster. The sun was setting over the New Jersey skyline, and the last of the hospital visitors were shuffling out into the night.

“Except you’re not leaving me this time,” you smiled, squeezing this hand, “And I’m not changing your sheets.”

Bull Randleman

BULL BULL BULL BULL (sang to the tune of “Bill Nye the Science Guy”)

I already know Bull is a big softie; I mean, not only does he look like he gives the best hugs on this here Earth, but we already know he is one of the best NCOs in Easy Company.

I think you two would meet prior to D-Day at Aldbourne. You’re a Donut Dolly helping the Red Cross lift the men’s spirits, and boy, do you certainly lift one paratrooper’s spirits. Bull comes back to your Clubmobile on a regular basis, sometimes multiple times a day, even if it is just to chat. 

Due to the Red Cross’ discouragement of Dollies having romantic relationships with servicemen, you can’t reciprocate the kind man’s feelings, despite how much you want to. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed that Bull gets his coffee and donuts for free whenever you’re working the station.

There’s an unmistakable tension in the air before D-Day, which inspires you to break the rules a little and accompany Bull to a local pub. Hours and a dozen endearing Southern phrases later, you are wrapped in his arms, dancing, as Glenn Miller plays on the jukebox. 

“Thank you for this, doll,” Bull said, as you swayed in the middle of the dark pub. Several other Americans were there, trying to drown their fear away. They were aware you were a dolly, forbidden from socializing with Bull in such a way, but they knew the gravity of the situation, and would never say a word.

“Don’t say that, Bull. We’ll see each other again.” 

A few days later, D-Day was in full swing, and the men you had spent the last months with were across the channel. However, you did not have to wait for Bull to come back for you, as you came to him. Within a week of the invasion, you and your clubmobile walked onto the Normandy beaches, footlocker in hand. 

You can not imagine the look of surprise and joy on Bull’s face when your truck joined Easy Company outside of Ste. Mere-Eglise; witnesses say it was the only time his cigar ever fell out of his mouth.

Everyone knew you had a thing for each other, but the rules were the rules, and they were enforceable now. So, you had to exchange letters and glances in private, with conversations and hand-holding reserved for when no one was around.

When VE and VJ Days were finally declared, it was like a load off your shoulders. Your first “official” dates together include swimming and walking in the Austrian mountains, and enjoying the left-behind alcohol and cigars. And let's not forget those hugs!

(A/N: Can you tell I've had a fixation on WWII Clubmobiles recently?)

Ronald Speirs

This man actually scares me, but that’s ok.

Speirs’ infatuation with you definitely comes from a place of respect. You work somewhere on the frontlines, whether it’s as a nurse, photographer, or another paratrooper in an alternate universe. While he may not vocalize it, he really admires your drive and bravery.

You two are acquaintances, having known each other since the early days of the Normandy invasion. You brush shoulders once in a while, but to your disappointment, nothing seems to develop between the two of you. His lingering glances go unnoticed.

He wouldn’t outright approach you. You would begin to notice small things added to your rucksack or station: chocolate, money, pawned jewelry, clothes–an entire set of fine china once appeared on top of your footlocker. You had no idea where it was coming from, and several attempts to find your secret admirer were to no avail. Whoever he was, you thought, he must be the most caring man in the world; who else would go out of their way to give gifts to a woman they barely know?

Someone would notice something, though. All the rumors about Speirs’ cruelty led some men to have a heightened interest in him and his daily happenings. It would be Luz who finally sees him bring a stolen pair of heels into your tent and exit without them–all while you were out doing your job.

“Hey, Lieutenant? You got a moment?” Luz called out to his superior. He walked across the ruined town square to Speirs, who responded with nothing but a blank stare. He had been caught and by no one less than George Luz.

“What do you want, Sergeant?”

“Well, I just wanted to say…” Luz looked around, half-jokingly making sure there were witnesses, “If this leaving stuff in Y/N’s tent is an attempt to ‘woo’ her, you might want to leave a note. Or just talk to her. How else will you know it’s you leaving her gifts and not Major Winters or Lieutenant Dike?”

With that, Speirs immediately goes out to find you. From the outside, he may appear to have all the confidence in the world, but he can not fathom you thinking all the gifts he has left are from the man he replaced. Speirs spots you mailing something back home; he pulls you outside, away from the attendant, and confesses that he has been the one leaving you gifts because of the feelings he’s been harboring. You quickly embrace him, causing Luz to whoop and cheer, which is only stifled by Speirs’ scowling.

From then on, you become the “First Lady” of Dog and Easy Company. You’re untouchable. Most of the men will bend over backward for you to stay on Speirs’ “good side.” You are treated with the utmost respect and courtesy, and privy to all the going-ons of the division. 

Toward the end of the war, Sgt. Grant is shot, and Speirs goes into full-blown protection mode. You accompany him as he locates the German doctor before initiating the manhunt for the soldier who shot Grant. You try to calm him down to the best of your abilities, but its no use. He hardly leaves your side after that night.

At the end of the war, Speirs decides to stay in the military, and despite the ups and downs that come with that, you stay with him. You celebrate with the rest of Easy Company as the men slowly start to return home with Speirs by your side. Not to be cliche, but you do live happily ever after, even if you’re never truly settled in one place.

Joe Liebgott

Call me David Webster, cause I would die for Joe Liebgott. He was my OG.

I think its safe to say that Liebgott is very tru cocky. I wouldn’t call it a superiority complex, perse, but he knows he’s good-looking and suave, and he’s confident enough to put it to good use. He can wine and dine any nurse and WAC he wants in a matter of moments. It’s a foolproof strategy; that is, until he sees you.

It’s Aldbourne, 1944, and he spots you in a pub while playing darts. He is immediately captivated by your looks, as even the drab green of your uniform manages to compliment them. He’s too busy staring at you and completely misses the target on his next throw. It costs him a pack of cigarettes, and you giggling at him, but man was it worth it.

You spend the evening huddled up together in a booth, him trying every one of his usual pick-up lines, and you shrugging them off like they’re nothing. It confuses Joe to no end that the one girl he wants doesn’t fall prey to his anecdotes. In reality, they do work, as you fall more and more in love with him throughout the night; you just want to hear him work for it.

He walks you back to your barracks, dizzy from infatuation (and dancing). You leave him with a peck on his cheek, and it's there he promises you will be the last girl he chases.

Before D-Day, Joe asks for a picture of you to keep during the war. You happily oblige, signing your love on the back of it with a kiss. He keeps it with him until the very end of the war and can not count the number of times he has shown you off someone else. By May, everyone in Easy knows what you look like.

Despite his addiction to Dick Tracy comics, Joe isn’t much of a poet, but this doesn’t keep him from writing to you daily. Sometimes the letters don’t contain more than an “I love you” or ramblings about how terrible his rations tasted or German lessons. Other times, they were more macabre, even though he attempts to sugarcoat things for you. Your favorite letters are when he describes life back home in California and everything he hopes to show you one day.

Obviously, the war was hard for Liebgott, even more than other soldiers. But knowing you are waiting for him and will stick with him helps get him through the hard times. I imagine Liebgott turns into Harry Welsh now that he’s smitten with you. He tells everyone about you, and wherever he goes, he looks for something to ship back to you. 

After the war, the two of you find yourselves a nice house in California. No matter what happens, you are there for each other through thick and thin. The picture you gave Joe in Aldbourne is framed in your living room for years to come.

Floyd Talbert

Unfortunately, I don’t remember Tab that much since it has been so long since my last rewatch. But if I know one thing for certain, I know he’s a cutie pie. (But I’m very sorry if these headcanons don’t match the character well).

You two would definitely meet while Floyd is recovering from being bayonetted by Private Smith in Carentan. You tend to his wounds and listen to him recall the harrowing story of how he received his injury. Its only when Easy Company returns to England and you meet his friends that you learn the injury was a simple mistake. Of course, Floyd is embarrassed, but you find it endearing.

Much like with Toye, you return to Tab’s bedside innumerous times. Since you’re in England, you can relatively safely go out for a “date” once he is healed. You enjoy the best British food the two of you can afford, and when that gets too sickening, you stroll through London like tourists.

He insisted you be there when he returns to Easy and informally receives a Purple Heart. His beams with pride, and in his confident state shows you off to the rest of the men as his fiancee. Well, that isn’t exactly true until a couple days later, when Floyd pops the question hours before departing for the war again. You wouldn’t think of saying anything but yes.

Like the other men, you exchange letters for months. You remain stationed outside of London, and despite wartime rationing, send him anything he needs. Cigarettes? Bought and shipped. Pictures of you? Taken and sent. Some baked goods? Consider it sent. If he could, he would reciprocate the favor, which he tries to do whenever they stop through a somewhat intact town. The tulips he sends you from the Netherlands are permanently placed by your beside, even if they arrive a little dried.

Once the war ends, Tab can not wait to see you and shows up unannounced in your ward. The excitement and love is palpable, and you marry within days. After that, he feels no rush to end the honeymoon phase, and you dawdle getting back to the states to begin life together.

[stcverogers]

TOP GUN FIC RECS 5!

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: the longer that you stay, the ice is melting by @welcome-to-my-multiverse you have walls built around yourself from the hurt you had experiences in the past. jake breaks them all down.

F: dinner and domesticity by @sehnsuchts-trunken all you want after a long day at work is to spend time with jake.

F: sunshine by @call-sign-jinx you're jake's biggest secret in the best way possible.

F + A: abs sans brain by @sometimes-i-write-good you would think that the amount of time jake spends with his work friends that he'd rather spend date night with you alone

F + A: don't make the same mistake by @agentrose17 jacob seresin is a coward. to save himself the heartbreak, he runs.

F: the doll house by @honeybeedewdrops jake flew million dollar jets for a living and still couldn't build a barbie dreamhouse

A: a glimpse of us by @call-sign-jinx jake will forever be haunted by what happened years ago

F + A: who are you? + part 2 by @thewulf you move to fightertown in hopes of comfort from you aunt penny after you and your fiance break it off. in a sea full of naval aviators, you meet jake.

F: i caught you by @roosterbruiser jake will always be there to catch you

F + A: mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys) by @almostgenerallyalways you and jake have long broken up. he tries to reconnect every holiday season but you choose to ignore him. you can't quite do that when he's at your front door.

F + A: sleepy baby by @discount-shades 𖥻 if i weren't for you therapist, there was no way you'd be out late at night in a bar.

F + A: rescued + part 2 by @topgunslut you nearly drown by the beach but jake saves you

F: even if you lose it, it will find you by @lovestruckdeans though you and jake may have gone your seperate ways, you find your way back to each other.

A: what are we? by @andorskenobi four months of stringing you along and you were tired of it. you give jake an ultimatum.

F + A: perfect storms by @captainamericasmotercycle jake loves you because you're you. not because you're the admiral's daughter or whatever coyote wants to make you believe.

S: jealousy, jealousy by @seresinsbabe jealous of him and his coworker, you decide that it was your turn to make jake jealous.

F + A: i see myself with you by @penwieldingdreamer you meet jake again, this time, he dons a khaki uniform.

F: boyfriend material by @beautifultypewriter you and jake had a thing. if you were on a bad date, you'd text him and he'd show up, sweeping you away.

F: roadside assistance by @lostdreamr-blog1 your car breaks down in the middle of the road and you have no choice but to call your last resort for help.

F + A: it only feels this raw right now by @teamhappyme your time with the navy has come to an end while yours with jake is only beginning.

F: sittin' on the dock of the bay by @theloveoftoms a day on the beach with jake seresin.

F: brave by @arson-tm you are the only person jake shows his true self to.

F: your carriage awaits, sweets by @lazypeachsoul jake loved you so much. so much so that he'd willingly carry you home when you're drunk off your mind.

F: coffee for mrs. seresin? by @birdy-bat-writes jake orders your coffee for you. when your order is called, you're utterly surprised.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F: pretty in pink by @roostersforevergirl if rooster wants to join his daughter's tea party, he must dress the part.

F + A: the parent trap by @averagewriter-inthedark you and rooster crashed and burn. despite the relationship ending, something beautiful bloomed from it. in a mutual agreement, one will grow up with you while the other rooster.

F: hold my hand by @wannabeschyulersister it's mav and penny's birthday. you somehow find yourself riding a mechanical bull.

F: bradley and the bump by @justmyheart bradley lets his girl know how much he loves his other girl.

F: beautiful by @eyesthatroll you can see glimpses of carole in bradley

F: mary's song by @risriswrites bradley bradshaw is hopelessly in love with his best friend. if only she felt the same.

F: i'm obsessed with you by @simpforrooster jake can't bear to see rooster pine over you for a single second longer

A: till death? by @cherrycola27 you meant what you said in your wedding vows that you'd love bradley till death do you part.

F: my reward by @susanripper rooster doesn't know how to tie a tie. now, you can't let that happen can you?

F: picture in my pocket by @worldofheroes if there's anyone who would understand what you feel, it's rooster

F: a little pinch by @tongue-like-a-razor it's time for your daughter to have her shots but it seems like rooster is more nervous than she is

A: trainwreck by @callsign-cree you knew that you and rooster were too good to true. it was time you finally confirmed it.

S: short stack by @spacecaravan something about you making him breakfast makes rooster insatiable for you.

S: return the favor by @sonofarathorn being a dad was a good look on bradley.

F: beautiful boy by @aestheticpearl baby bradshaw has a nightmare, something bradley can relate to too well.

F: i'm goin' for a run by @feralforfrank rooster wants to say goodbye before going on his run

F: a wedding to remember and a proposal to come by @sehnsuchts-trunken during mav and penny's wedding, you and rooster realise that maybe a wedding of your own was in the cards.

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: baby. on. board by @mymamalife baby on board has his own baby on board

F + A: one beer + just another day in paradise by @lgg5989 having a baby at a young age was not part of yours and bob's plans.

F: do we have to? by @auroradawnwrites unlike bob, all you want to do is stay home.

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO

F: in which it’s far too cold for your liking, but Javy can think of a few ways to warm up by @spidervee

F: the waiting by @rae-gar-targaryen javy knows that you're more than capable of doing things yourself but can't he just pamper his pregnant wife in peace?

F: cancelled flights and beignets by @siempre-bucky javy's flight home is cancelled. you make beignets to cure some of his homesickness.

F: the first 'i love you' by @demxters you didn't need javy to tell you he loved you for you to know that he did. so when he finally said those three words, you weren't surprised.

NICHOLAS 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW

F: you know why by @thewhiskersonkittens it didn't matter that you had a jerk of an ex, goose proves that he's twice the man he could ever be

[attapullman]

There is no doubt in my mind that Bob Floyd has a huge dick. I just know it. There is no way to change my mind on the matter.

headcanons that are absolutely true

bob floyd is packing

bob floyd's love language is touch

bob floyd has a raging breeding kink

bob floyd's wife has a bad back because he's blown it out so many times

bob floyd will not admit to any of the above

[dearsnow]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

- phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

word count: 2,003

a/n - this fic is parallel HEAVY, so don’t be surprised if you see the same phrase passed around. it’s truly a mindlink esque situation lol. and it’s 100% self-indulgent because the reader’s personality is so similar to mine (i am nothing if not a self caterer)

“Nat, I’m really not sure.” Bob tries to protest. “You know I’m no good with dating and stuff. Who’s to say she’ll even like me?” Natasha pats him on the back, firmly enough for him to know she means it.

“You guys are birds of a feather. Trust me, she’ll like you.”

“Jamie, I just don’t know.” You frown. She’s trying to set you up with her girlfriend’s friend, claiming that you’d be the perfect match, but you know you’re not the most amazing when it comes to meeting new people. You’re slightly awkward at best, socially anxious at worst. “He probably won’t like me. And if we’re really so similar, don’t you think it’ll be stiff and weird because neither of us can say the right, flirty thing?”

“You don’t need to be ‘flirty’ to have a good connection. Not every relationship is going to be like Natasha and I, all fire and flame. Sometimes it’s slow, and slow is good. It’s exactly what you need.” Jamie chides, putting a soothing arm around your shoulder. “Trust me. Birds of a feather, right?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth you’re sitting in, Jamie’s hand rubbing the side of your arm comfortingly. It’s ten minutes before your supposed double date, and Natasha affirms that it’s about five minutes before he shows up. “Bob’s always early,” she stated, “so we can be even earlier to give you some prep time.”

You’re quiet. Shy, even, and you don’t have the best track record with social events. You’ve never really had a date that understood why you don’t want to get roaringly drunk and have sex in a bathroom and whatnot. The two girls, one in front of you and one by your side, have assured you that Bob will be different. He’s quiet too, but he stands up for himself. He’s strong and capable, with a humble attitude and the slight southern charm that you can bring home to your parents. If he’s really so great, though, what the hell is he doing going out with you?

Bob can see your booth through the door of the diner, and he steels his nerves quietly. He’s got this. He’ll make it a nice dinner, a nice experience, and he will not, under any circumstances, fuck it up. He owes you that much. He knows he’s probably not what you want in a guy. Natasha described you as hardworking, kind, and a good listener. He can’t help but think that you deserve much better than him.

He takes a breath and pushes open the door, the flowers in his other hand a little damp from his sweaty palms.

When he finally rounds the server stand, he can see you. And you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of setting sights on.

He’s royally fucked, he thinks.

Oh my god, he’s so hot. You smile at him and curse a bit under your breath, careful to not let anyone hear. He’s everything you imagined and more, with sandy colored hair, bright blue eyes, and glasses that look like they’re just a little crooked. If you were bold, you’d reach across the table and fix them as he sat down. You’re not, though, so you just fidget with your hands under the hard wood.

He clears his throat and hands you a small bouquet of daises, sliding into the spot across from you. Nat gives a little self-satisfied smile from next to him. “Hi. I didn’t know what you liked, so I hope that’s okay. I’m- I’m Robert by the way, or Bob, whatever you prefer.”

You think your cheeks will split open from how hard you’re smiling. It’s such a small gesture, but the blush on his cheeks tells you that it’s earnest. “They’re perfect. Thank you, Bob.” You introduce yourself with the next breath, and he shakes your hand like it’s a business meeting. His palms are warm and just a little bit damp, but when his fingers curl around your own like they were meant to fit together, you couldn’t care less. “So,” you begin, somewhat shyly, “you’re Natasha’s WSO?”

When Bob hears your quiet voice, he knows he’s in deep. “Yeah. She’s a great pilot.” His praise earns him an elbow from Natasha, a silent ‘talk about yourself, dipshit’ evident in the action. He smiles nervously. “We do a lot of the weapons bits so the pilots can fly safely. How about you, what do you do?”

“It’s not as important and exciting as your job, that’s for sure.” You laugh before explaining exactly what you do.

“Honestly, that is important and exciting. I’m sure you excel at it, too,” Bob offers, somewhat bashfully. What makes your head spin is that he seems like he means it. He’s sincere, wonderfully so.

As that statement quirks the corners of your mouth up, Bob’s heart explodes. You’re charming and beautifully sweet, with a pretty smile and dashing eyes to boot.

Jamie enters your conversation carefully, like she wants to help but isn’t forcing anything. Natasha pipes in a few times, but overwhelmingly, it’s you and Bob. Neither of you have ever spoken so much in this type of setting before, and it’s great. You bounce ideas and jokes and quips off of each other like you were meant to. You feel like you were meant to, because everything just comes so easily with Robert Floyd. You’re finally talking to someone who understands every bit of you, polishing the hidden parts of yourself until they shine. You never thought you could feel this way with another person.

“Wait, have you read this book called For One More Day?” You ask, finding every opportunity to drag out a subject you enjoy so deeply. “It’s really sad, like a fictional memoir, but I think you’d enjoy it. The whole story is basically an ode to loving your parents while they’re still around.”

“I haven’t, but I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I go go the library.” Bob says, giving a slightly lopsided grin that makes your heart scream. “It seems right up my alley though. I like non fiction books, mostly, but I could go for a change every once and a while.”

Your food is almost forgotten in the midst of the conversation, and his is too. “When you do read fiction, what genres do you go for? I have a million recommendations, so help me narrow them down a bit.”

Bob will never admit this to his friends, but he’s an avid reader. He’s a sucker for a true story or anything about dogs, however, he’d read anything you could ever think to tell him about. He has already made a mental note to check out For One More Day and is currently making more notes as you list off more dog-central books. You, as you’ve told him, go for more of the fancy prose-d, heavy drama-d, and emotion-filled stories. It’s nice to see you like this, talking about something you’re honestly passionate about. The light in your eyes makes you look like a ray of sunshine.

Jamie grins at Natasha from across the table, utterly and unashamedly content that her plot has worked. Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, you two,” Nat says, “can we move on to something more exciting? Like planning a second date, maybe. One where Jamie and I can be happy at home while you two nerd out.”

Bob’s face reddens and you give a small, sheepish smile. “I’d like that.” You say.

“Me too.” Bob adds. Natasha can firmly say that she’s never seen him so happy, not even after a successful flight. It’s like he’s finally found the thing that made him tick, like you reached into his chest and wound up the gear box in his heart. “I’m free this Friday, if you’re up for it.”

You tap your fingers on the tabletop, thinking. “This Friday… this Friday is when I’m doing a book reading for the kids at our local library at lunchtime. We could have dinner after that, though.” You want to spend the entire day with him, but if a few hours is all you’re given, you’ll take it. You’d take anything.

Bob’s hands move to touch yours, just barely. His warmth radiates out, perfectly soothing your nerves. “If you want, I can make lunch and help you out at the book reading. I like those kinds of things, but I don’t want to impose.”

“You absolutely should.” You breathe. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all. In fact, I think the kids would really like it if Mr. Naval Aviator read a few books to them. You’d be like a superhero in their eyes.”

You’re a bit astounded by how much Bob’s face flushes. If you thought he was a bit pink before, he’s got a drunk man’s glow now. And you were being completely, one hundred percent honest when you said that the kids would like him. They’d love him. Micah’s father was in the Navy when he was younger, so there’s one connection, and April loves airplanes with a passion. It would be amazing.

“Then I’ll be there. Here’s my number, so you can text me when and where.” Bob slides a little piece of paper over to you, one that he must have written a bit ago, because his pen is securely clipped to his pocket. He likes you so much he wrote down his number while you were (probably) explaining your love for reading, or crafts, or small animals? You’re going to swoon if he keeps this up.

Natasha eyes where your hand is touching Bob’s. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Now eat your food.” She gestures to your half-touched plates. You and Bob both stutter a little, completely having forgotten what you’re going to have to pay for.

The rest of the evening goes amazingly. You talk about so many subjects that by the end of the day, when the sun is slipping below the horizon, you feel like you’re floating on air— light and unburdened by the way you’ve been able to express yourself. Bob insisted on paying for your meal, and though you protested, a little part of you feels giddy that you’re worth spending money on. Bob walks you to your car, tucking your flowers into the cup holder between your seat and the passenger side.

“I really enjoyed that.” He muses. “I really enjoyed you. I thought Nat and Jamie were kinda full of it when they told me about this whole double date, but I’m glad they weren’t.”

“Me too, oh my gosh. I was totally expecting some stuck-up Navy nerd, but I’m glad it was you. I enjoy you too, Bob, probably way too much.” You’re standing by your door, but you feel like you can’t leave just yet.

He looks at you with something you hope to think is affection in his eyes before glancing down towards your lips. “I’ll let you get going. Text me anytime.”

You hesitate, staring up into his ocean blue eyes. Before you can stop yourself or tell yourself it’s a bad idea, you take the collar of his shirt in your hand and kiss him.

It feels right. His hand coming up to rest on your waist, his body pressed against yours as he stabilizes himself on your car, it’s everything you’ve always dreamed of. His lips work in tandem with your own, like they’re collaborating on some sort of secret mission, and he kisses you like he loves you.

His pupils are blown up and he’s panting just slightly when you pull away. He misses the feeling of your lips on his as soon as it ends, the tingling sensation working its way down his face. “T-Thank you…?” He whispers. You laugh, the sound music to his ears. He can hardly believe that that just happened.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Definitely.“

You give him a small peck on the cheek and step into your car, so happy you think you could explode. As you pull out, and as he waves at you from the parking lot, you make an effort to remember to thank Jamie and Natasha.

Who would’ve thought that you really would be birds of a feather?

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