#Robert Floyd fluff

[vivwritesfics]

Grow Old With You

Bob didn't want to introduce his girl to his squad. But she was his fiance and he did want them at the wedding. When Hangman tries it on, Bob knows she really is the one

This is so fluffy I love him sm

She squeezed his hand. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered to him.

When Bob turned to her, she fixed his hair and gently pushed his glasses up his nose. He shook his head and squeezed her hand. This was something they had to do, he knew it.

After he had been called back to Top Gun, Bob had been permanently stationed in San Diego (aside from deployment). He and the rest of his squad were kept together, ready at a moments notice to be called back to Top Gun.

After two months of living there, the most beautiful woman knocked on his door. Her car had broken down and her phone had no battery. Bob was only too happy to help. She'd introduced herself abd he introduced himself right back. Except he introduced himself as Robert. Nobody called him Robert.

"But you can call me Bob," he said quickly, correcting himself. Bob had offered her something to eat while they waited for the tow truck to arrive.

They'd spoken a lot in that time. She found out he was a Weapon Systems officer and she was fascinated. It was easy to lose track of time with Bob.

Before she knew it the tow truck was pulling up outside. While the mechanic hooked her car up, she wrote down her phone number and left it on his kitchen table, praying he would call her.

She didn't tell him she had left it. Bob couldn't help but regret not asking for her number as she climbed into the tow truck. He should have gone with her, he thought instantly. Or, at least driven her there himself.

But it was too late, and he doubted he'd ever see her again. Sighing, he headed back into his house. He didn't notice the little piece of paper on his table at first, walked past it at least four times before he finally saw it.

And, when he did see it, he immediately saved her number to his phone. He didn't text or call right away, but he didn't know how long to wait.

This wasn't his department. This was something Hangman and Rooster usually did. Part of him was itching to ask them for advice, but he wanted to keep her to himself. God knows as soon as Hangman and Rooster found out about her, it would be game over for him.

The WSO looked at his future wife, at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He could do this. For her, he could do this.

Bob lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Ready," he said and pulled her towards The Hard Deck.

He couldn't very well message Rooster and Hangman, he knew that. But there was one person he could ask for advice. Nat was only to happy to help Bob with what to say. She gave him flirty lines to text to her.

But, the more that Natasha sent to him, the more things didn't feel right to Bob. He couldn't send any of these. 'You can take a ride in my cockpit ;)' and 'Are you a tarmac? Because my heart wants to land and stay with you' especially didn't feel right to him.

Bob thanked Natasha for her help, but he didn't take it. No, three days after he had met her, three days after she had left her number on his kitchen table, Bob finally messaged her.

'Hey, it's Bob'

That was all his text said. Anxiously he waited for her to text back. What if she doesn't? What if she was just being polite? What if she'd already forgotten about him?

'Hey, the WSO, right?' She had texted back. 'I was beginning to think I wasn't going to hear from you, haha'

The way Bob's heart was beating, he couldn't believe it. She was interested, and she had been waiting for him.

Bob felt the blush raising to his cheeks as he typed back a response. They texted through the afternoon, only stopping because they needed to sleep. The conversation ended with her asking him over for dinner, to repay for how he helped her when the car broke down.

The music didn't stop when they walked in. That would have been dramatic, but very fitting, thought Bob. But, the way all if his squad was staring at him, the music might as well have stopped.

She squeezed his hand and he started forward, taking her over to the squad. Only Natasha knew of her existence and, as much as Bob wanted it to, he couldn't keep things that way.

The dinner was the first date of many. Neither of them had known it was a date, not until much later in the relationship. There was a second, and then a third. On the third they found themselves on his couch, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

It was maybe two months after that third date that they realised the first dinner they had was their first date. But Bob already had the date memorised.

Bob had let her set the pace on their relationship. She was the one who had him wrapping his arms around her, she was the one jumping into hid arms after days apart and kissing him softly.

Four months of this and Bob realised that he wanted to grow old with her.

"Who the hell have you got there, Baby On Board?" Hangman called. He wasn't looking at Bob, concentrating on the woman stood beside him. As he usually did when facing a gorgeous woman, Jake wore his killer smile.

"Shut up," Natasha said to him as she strode forward. "I'm Nat, its nice to finally meet you."

Although this was her first time meeting them, Bob had been sure to tell his girl all about them. As they cooked dinner together, moving in tandem around the kitchen, he'd tell her about their first time at Top Gun, when they were all called back for a mission.

They were stories she'd never get bored of hearing. Her Bobby, the weapon systems officer.

They introduced themselves to her. One by one she shook their hands grinning at them. Bob couldn't help but feel slightly protective as she shook Bradley and Jake's hands.

As the game of pool resumed, Bob sat himself on a stool and pulled her into his chest. His hands settled over her stomach and she leaned against him as she spoke to his squad.

After a good few minutes, Bob hopped up from his seat. "I'll get us some drinks," he said and kissed her cheek. She squeezed his bicep as he walked to the bar.

As soon as Bob was out of sight, Jake came walking towards her. He was the only one she recognised from just how often her Bob complained about him. "What did Baby On Board do to get a pretty thing like you?" He asked as he leaned against the wall beside her, towering over her.

She stared at him, clearly unimpressed. "Uhm, he's sweet, lovely, a perfect gentleman and incredibly hot," she said as she looked towards the bar, searching for her Bobby.

But Hangman wasn't giving up. "Okay, so what do I have to do to get a girl like you?"

She reeled of the list she had just given him.

"Okay," he tried again, leaning closer. "What do I have to do to get you?"

She rolled her eyes. Finally Bob came back and passed her a beer. "Thank you, Bobby," she said and kissed his cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. She turned her attention back to Jake and held up her hand, revealing the ring on her finger.

"Oh," Hangman said and backed away.

Bob grinned and leaned down to kiss her. This was the woman he was going to spend his life with.

[sebsxphia]

shopping lists.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.

￫ word count: 3.3K.

￫ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob was starving.

He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.

It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.

Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.

Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.

As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.

You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”

Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.

As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.

No other reason.

He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.

The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.

As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.

It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.

A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.

He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.

As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.

He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.

He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.

Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.

He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.

At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.

“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.

As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.

“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.

Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.

You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.

You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”

As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.

“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.

Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.

“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.

Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.

You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.

You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.

“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.

Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.

“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”

Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.

The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.

“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.

Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.

“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”

You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.

“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”

You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.

“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.

You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.

That’s what he thought.

As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.

You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.

Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.

He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.

He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.

He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.

“Fuck. Tomatoes.”

Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.

“Fuck! Tomatoes.”

You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.

“Hello again.”

The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.

Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.

“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”

“I forgot some tom—”

You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.

“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.

“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.

Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.

He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.

“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”

Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.

“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.

“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”

You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.

“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”

You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”

The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.

His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.

When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.

Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.

You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.

“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”

You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.

“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”

Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @floydsglasses @fridamoss @floydsmuse @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @auroralightsthesky @cherrycola27 @withahappyrefrain @sugarcoated-lame @senawashere

[nurse-floyd]

Stitched With Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader

Prompt: by the amazing @vivwritesfics “Bob floyd receiving a homemade jumper or something. That's it, that's aaaaaall I want you to think about.”

Warnings: None.

You stood in the doorway of your and Bob’s small bungalow, waiting for Bob to come home. It was a ritual you had every day when he came home from work. Smaug, your trusty German Shepherd you both had adopted to keep you company when he was on long deployments, stood at attention at your side, his tail wagging as he waited for his dad. The soft hum of distant jets taking off and landing sounded in the distance.

That day, you were particularly excited for Bob to come home. You had spent weeks working on a gift for him after he told you a story about his favorite sweater his gran had knitted for him when he was younger and how he hadn’t taken it off for days when he first got it. The story had sparked an idea, and you had spent the last few weeks secretly running back and forth to the craft store for yarn and secretly crocheting while he was at work or sleeping.

You heard the familiar sound of his truck coming up the street. Smaug was practically buzzing at your side, waiting for your cue to run out to see his dad. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him step out. You never got tired of seeing him come home to you. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, his expression lit up as the German Shepherd practically launched himself, paws on his chest, as he licked Bob’s face.

“Alright, bud, alright,” he laughed, “get down now,” he commanded.

Smaug came running back to you, his tail wagging so hard you thought it’d break as Bob followed behind him. He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, placing a kiss on the side of your head. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, “missed you.”

You smiled back at him, pulling him inside. “I missed you too, baby. I have something for you.”

His eyes squinted with curiosity as you grabbed his hand and led him into the living room where a neatly wrapped package sat on the coffee table. You handed it to him, practically bouncing with excitement.

He sat down with the package, Smaug at his feet curiously sniffing it. His eyes widened as he uncovered the jumper. It was a deep navy blue, his favorite color. The stitches were even and precise, showing just how much love and time you had put into it.

Bob looked at you, his eyes filled with love and gratitude; you could have sworn you saw tears begin to form too. “You made this for me?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit shy at the idea. “I did… Do you like it?”

“Like it?” he repeated, “Sweetheart, I love it.”

He immediately pulled it up and over his head. It fit him perfectly; the jumper hugged his broad shoulders just right, not too tight and not too loose. He ran his hands over the soft wool, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“It’s perfect!” he said as he pulled you into another hug. “This is the best gift.”

You melted into his embrace, his hold tight as he held you for a moment. “I’m glad you like it. I know it’s getting colder in the mornings, and I wanted something to keep you warm on your way to work.”

The two of you settled onto the couch, Bob’s arm wrapped around you as he pulled you close. That jumper definitely wasn’t coming off for the evening and possibly the foreseeable future. You’d have to pry it off him eventually to wash it, but seeing his face made all the effort worth it.

[peachesandcreames]

I Swear to God that if Lewis James Pullman as Robert " Bob " Floyd is not a part of the Top Gun 3 cast I will riot 🔥🥵

[pinkdaisies9285]

Shiny Rings and Forgotten Means

Bob x Reader

Summary: Waking up next to your handsome boss wasn't on your list of things to do on a Las Vegas business trip. Waking up with a shiny, new ring wasn't either.

Warnings: Fluff, Vegas Wedding trope, CEO!au, kinda of Implied Smut

Word Count: 983

Author's Note: Here's my story for @bobgasm 's Au Writing Challenge! I almost forgot to post it so, I hope you enjoy it!

Waking up next to your boss wasn’t on your bucket list, especially when you don’t remember the night before. Everything was very blurry and only spurts of memories came back. Trying to remember more, made your headache even worse. The pulse behind your eyes was making itself very present. Reaching the nightstand quietly, you see a little glimmer reflecting off your hand. Looking closer, you see a stunning ring nestled on your ring finger. Forgetting about trying to find your phone, you completely focus on the piece of metal encompassing your finger. How did you get there? Why is it there? More importantly, who did you marry? The groan behind you gave you a queue of who this mystery husband was. Turning around, all thoughts flew out of your mind. The man who married you was none other than Robert Floyd, your boss.

The man in question had rolled over to lay on his back which allowed the sunlight from the windows of the room to wake him up. Squinting his eyes open, his vision focused on you. His eyes widened along with yours. Both of you seemed stunned by the situation at hand.

“May I ask why you’re in my bed, Dove?” he asked with a raspy voice.

Dove, the nickname he gave after working for him for a year. It came from you one morning humming a random melody while getting work done. When he heard your little melody, he jokingly called you a morning dove. So it spurred the nickname Dove, which is what he only calls you now.

“That I do not know Mr. Floyd, but could you explain this?” you replied holding up your left hand to show the glittering ring. You wanted answers to why you had what looked like a wedding band on your hand.

Robert grabbed your hand looking down at the pretty diamond ring with surprise and confusion. What made you more anxious was when you spotted a ring sitting on his left ring finger. He seemed to realize that as well when he had cradled your left hand in both of his.

“Dove, did we do something last night?” he questioned slowly. Looking up at you, he realized that you were trying not to throw up. You looked nauseous and panicked. This was true for the most part.

While you had always had a small crush on the handsome young CEO, you knew the boundaries of a personal assistant. Don’t flirt with him and don’t try to date him. These two mental rules you had been set in place very early in your career with Robert. Yet, by the time you had been working for him, you were completely enamored. He was kind, willing to work with you, and gave you a nickname that made you flustered still to this day. Now if you were connecting the dots correctly, you were married to him? Married to the man who haunted your dreams with fleeting touches and soft words. Married to the man who has been your boss for almost six years.

“I have zero idea, Mr. Floyd. All I know is that we had secured the deal with Mr. Robinson and decided to celebrate. After that, I can’t remember anything else,” you replied. Quickly getting up, you decided to see if anything in the room would give you more hints.

Scanning the area, you see a piece of paper sitting at the desk. It was hidden under a quickly thrown notebook. You inch closer to it, hoping it would be the key to your and your boss’s answers. The document had an official-looking seal on the bottom right corner and in the middle had both your signatures. In a pretty cursive said Certificate of Marriage with the officiant’s signature underneath it. You truly had done it somehow, you married your boss without any memory of how you did it.

Robert had made his way over to where you had been standing frozen looking at the pretty piece of paper. Looking over at what you were staring at, he found the answer to all the questions running around his head. He was married to you. He married you, his gorgeous assistant. The one that haunts his dreams all the time. His assistant whom he told himself he would never fall for. He didn’t know if this was a divine stroke of luck or a sick cruel joke. How would things go now made him feel unsure.

Should he immediately call his lawyer to file divorce papers? Or does he continue to float in this hoax of a marriage? His heart is yearning for the latter but his mind wants to immediately make sure you’re comfortable with what’s happening first before his feelings. So, he decides to break the tension stewing in the air for ten minutes.

“What would you like to do, Dove?” he softly asked. He didn’t want to scare you away with the prospect that he liked this.

You turned and looked at him for the first time since waking up. What do you do? Tell him that you’re okay with how things have panned out? Tell him you would divorce him as soon as he said he didn’t want this because you wanted him to be happy? You felt sick to your stomach like you just got off a roller coaster after eating a whole funnel cake. God, what do you do? Your brain and heart were at war with this decision. Live in this fantasy or break your heart by doing the right thing.

“I don’t know, Bobby,” you mumbled. Widening your eyes, you realized what you called him, Bobby. Looking over at him, you saw that he was smirking.

“Well, I do Dove,” he replied.

“What’s that?” you asked tilting your head to the side.

“Start our Honeymoon,” Bobby said still smirking.

You definitely were in for a ride.

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

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Main Masterlist

[hangmansgbaby]

Congratulations!!! 🥳

Can I get our good man Bob Floyd and "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

~@roosters-girl

This one is so self indulgent cause I’m this way!

Blanket Stealer

Summary: Bob sleeps over for the first time and learns a valuable lesson about stealing the blankets

Prompt: "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

Pairings: Bob Floyd x reader

Word count:<300

Masterlist | 300 Cele Masterlist

He warned you before you ever laid down for the night.

“I tend to pull on the blankets in my sleep so I am apologizing in advance.”

Bob Floyd is a blanket hog and you are getting the full effect of it right now.

You lay staring at the ceiling, cold with no blankets laying over you. You glance over at your boyfriend who lays comfortably under the sheets, warm. You groan as you once again tug the blankets back over, curling your arm around the corner to keep it tight.

Its minutes later that you feel the tug of Bob pulling the blanket back.

“If you steal the blankets again, I am going to put my cold feet on you.” You say allowed, knowing he was too asleep to hear it, and sure enough Bob tugs the blanks back over to his side. “Have it your way, Bobby.”

You turn to angle your feet towards him, slipping them under the blankets and placing them flat against his calves. You start counting.

“1… 2… 3…”

“Holy shit why are they so cold?!” Bob jolts up, pushing your feet away.

“You stole the blankets, I put my cold feet on you.” You glare at him as he sits up, pushing the blankets towards you.

“I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. I did tell you.”

“You’re buying me longer blankets, Robert Floyd, or your gonna learn to sleep closer to me at night.” You state, tugging half the blankets over yourself.

“I’ll cuddle you all night if that makes you feel better.” Bob laughs softly, scooting closer to her.

“It will actually.” You say, laying on your side away from him.

Bob scoots over, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Good night, Sweet Pea.” He whispers, kissing you cheek before falling asleep next to you.

[mothdruid]

Morning After

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x fem!reader

summary: while at the hard deck you meet a shy guy, but get him to loosen up with some shots. when you two walk home you learn who he is, Bob. Bob goes on the fuck your brains out that night, even stays over at your place. he quickly leaves in the morning, only for you to meet back up somewhere unexpected.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, blow job, cum play, spit play, pet names (angel), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bob fucks.

a/n: i've been cooking this one up for awhile and had it as an idea for even longer. this is my little crack at the bob fucks idea.

“What are you? A wallflower?” The words come out of your mouth with a particular tone, not one that you had initially intended. Alcohol always tends to do this, making you a bit more loose and unaware of your actions. It was such a drastic change from your normally reserved nature. Phoenix had always teased you about it, saying you became a completely different person when you drank. Eyes narrowed at you behind the glasses, his eyebrows knitting together. But there was a confused smile to the questioning look, one that made your heart flutter. 

“I don’t really know what that means.” A rosy flush tinted his cheeks, taking a drink from his beer bottle. You raised an eyebrow, questioning his reply. A gentle smirk pulled at his lips while he looked at your expression. “What?” 

“Are you being serious?” All of it was too cute. The way his lips curved into that half smile, words barely forming in his mouth. He took a sip of his beer while shaking his head no. “Like you know,” you nudged his arm with your elbow while your brain buzzed, “someone who knows everything but isn’t a part of it. Stays on the wall of things.” He raised his eyebrows again, biting at his lower lip while you watched him. 

“I mean, kind of.” A bit of nervousness laced those words, pointing out that you might have hit some form of nerve. A pang of guilt shot through you, the weight of your words finally catching up.

“Hey, I’m really sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said anything.” A soft look settled on his features, taking in your apology.

“No, you’re good. My friends are alway on my ass about not putting myself out there. I don’t mind, it was just an observation anyways.” You couldn’t help but stare as he adjusted his glasses, pushing the wire frames back up the bridge of his nose. You offered him an awkward smile before taking a drink from your beer. You leaned up against the wall next to his chair, the two of you silently deciding to watch the room together. It had seemed that your friends disappeared from the bar, or maybe your brain just wasn’t registering them anymore. That’s when an idea popped into your brain. 

“Do you wanna go do a shot? Maybe two?” He was mid drink of his beer when the words hit him. His eyebrows knitted together slightly, a look of thought on his face. You watched the him intently, finishing off the drink in your cup. 

“Ah, sure.” 

-

“Eight hours? How?” A tone of shock was laced in your words, your facial features reflecting the same level of shock.

“It was a big lego set! Like,” he paused for a moment to think, “a lot of pieces.” The two of you laughed at the thought of it. The both of you were five shots later and giggling all over the bar of the Hard Deck. The two of you had chatted about mundane things at first but slowly ventured out. The conversation had covered movie favorites to TV show horrors. Lego sets were the new topic, a personal favorite of the new man that had captured your heart tonight. 

The two of you were beyond the point of driving, making you thank yourself for getting a rental unit close to the bar. You knew this man wasn’t able to drive either, not sure whether his friends had also ditched him like yours had. The intention of the night wasn’t to bring someone back home with you. But after being the one who suggested the shots, you felt obligated to take care of him. Bringing him home would be simply that, taking care of him. 

A source of warmth brushed your thigh, pulling you from your thoughts instantly. The look on his face had changed when you weren’t paying attention. It was a soft look but different from all of his other ones, but with a hint of lust. A heat filled your cheeks, his eyes meeting yours. His hand settled on your thigh, not leaving its place this time. The warmth from his palm radiated into you, making you borderline nuclear. 

“This is gonna sound weird, but do you wanna crash at mine?” It was his turn for his cheeks to fill with heat, a blush blossoming over them. Lips parting slightly then closing again, his words not forming in his mouth. Panic had started to creep its way into you. “If you don’t want to though I get it-” 

“I’d love to.” A flutter in your chest was all you felt, the panic melting away. He hopped off his bar stool, the hand on your thigh lifting off for only a second. He offered his hand out to you, taking it as you got off your own bar stool. The both of you fished out bills to leave the bartender before leaving. 

The cool air was sobering, helping your brain start processing that you were bringing this man home with you. This man that you hadn’t learned the name of yet. “Wait, wait, wait.” The walk had barely started, the both of you on the shoulder of the road until you hit the sidewalk. One of his eyebrows cocked up, a questioning look on his face. “You’re not gonna kill me right? Cause like I don’t even know your name, and now you’re coming home with me and I just have too much going to die like this.” Word soup. Another favorite trait you acquired when drunk. 

A strong silence hung between the two of you, a car passing by to break it. A giggle started emanating from him, making it your turn to have a questioning look. The wrinkles near his eyes made your heart warm, the almost undetectable shake of his head catching your eye. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close into his chest as he started walking the two of you down the side of the road again. 

“I’m not gonna kill you, I promise.” A small pause had you, metaphorically, on the edge of your seat. “But my name is Bob.” 

Bob stumbled through the doorway behind you, hands low on your back. Bob walked a little bit further into the foyer of your house. After you closed the door you pressed your back onto it, you watched Bob lean against the wall. His jaw was tipped up towards the ceiling, staring into the dark abyss. Your fingers crept over to the light switch, flicking the switch and illuminating the area. 

“Wowza.” The light seared Bob’s eyes, him squeezing them shut. A giggle crept up inside you, pushing off the door you walked over to him. Bob rolled his head to look at you, opening one eye open. “What are you laughing about?” A big smile tugged at his lips, his body turning to meet yours. The two of you burst out into a laugh, his arm reaching out and pulling you closer to him. 

Heat bubbled up into your cheeks, cerulean orbs staring into your own. A gulp was audible, not sure whether it came from you or Bob. One of his hands trailed up, a finger ghosting over your cheek. The warmth of his body covered yours, sending a small shiver down your spine. Your gaze flicked to his lips then back up to his eyes. Bob leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. Suddenly, he was pulling away from you, hand gently resting on your face now. 

“I.. I’m sorry.” A worried look had settled onto his features. Your hand covered Bob’s as you looked at him. 

"Sorry for what?" Alarms had started going off in your brain. Did you do something wrong? Was bringing him back a mistake? Was he actually going to kill you?

"I…" A softness gathered in his eyes now. "I was gonna kiss you." Your heart fluttered at his words, the heat in your cheeks burning more intensely. “But.. we are inebriated.” It was cute, his use of such a technical word. You shifted a little bit closer to him, only mere inches in between your bodies. You moved to the balls of your feet, pressing your forehead to Bob’s. That perfect cerulean gaze meeting yours. 

“Kiss me.” There was a small pause before you felt his lips met yours. It was a gentle kiss, one that you would have expected from a man like him. Bob slowly backed you up against the wall, his one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved to your hip. The hint of alcohol still lingered on the both of you, becoming drunk on each other now. His hips pressed towards you, pinning you against the wall. 

Fingers threaded into Bob’s hair, bumping his glasses and making them go slightly askew. His tongue moved over your bottom lips, asking for permission to slide into your mouth. Your lips parted for him, allowing his tongue to swirl around yours, exploring your mouth freely. You pressed your hips into his, rolling them up against his. The hand on your cheek moved along your jaw, pushing back some hair back from your face. 

Slowly the two of you undressed each other. A trail of clothes led from the foyer to your bedroom; you flicked the lights on when you passed the door frame of the room. Both your brains were still in a haze from the alcohol. His lips were like fire against your skin, nipping and mouthing the skin of your neck. One hand cradled your face while the other wrapped around your body; palm pressing between your shoulder blades. The pressure of his palm kept you pressed tight against him. The edge of your bed pressed into the back of your knees.

You climbed onto the bed, waiting for Bob to meet you on it. The only article of clothing left to take off were his boxer briefs. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers toying with the band of his boxer briefs. Bob’s mouth was slightly agape, watching your fingers hook under the elastic band. His cheeks reddened even more, gaze stuck on your fingers as they started to drag his underwear down. His cock sprang free, tip glistening with a small amount of precum. 

“That feels so good.” A shaky breath left Bob as he felt your tongue lap at his cock. His hand rested on the back of your head; guiding you slowly as you started bobbing up and down his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him adjust his glasses. A moan fell from his mouth every now and then. 

You let your spit start to drool down your chin, gathering at the curve of your jaw. Bob brought his free hand to your mouth, groaning while his thumb gathered the drool on your chin. He moved his thumb around your lips, stretched out around his cock as you looked up at him. 

“I could stare at you like this forever.” Bob let out a raspy groan when you pulled off of him, tongue dragging along the underneath of his cock. 

“That so?” It was the first thing that passed your lips, a small challenge to him. Bob smirked, his thumb rubbing spit on your bottom lip. 

“Let me taste you.” Bob’s words were barely above a whisper, almost begging you. His thumb stayed on your lip as you nodded. He sank down onto his knees, both of his hands trailing down your chest. You draped your legs off the bed, him settling between them. His hands palmed at your breasts, thumbs rubbing your nipples. He leaned in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

Bob felt like he was in heaven when your back arched, pressing your chest further into his face. Having someone of this beauty want him? It shocked him. But he kept swirling his tongue around your nipple, his other hand trailing down to your clothed cunt. He let out a moan when he pressed his fingers against your cunt, feeling how wet you were. 

“Got this wet from blowing me?” Bob questioned, kissing down your sternum and stomach. 

“Got a little excited,” you lifted your hips to help him pull your panties off, “at the idea of you inside me.” Bob kissed his way back up your leg, starting at your mid calf and ending on the inside of your thigh. His lust blown eyes stared at you through his glass. He flattened his tongue and dragged it through your folds. You dropped your head back, holding yourself up on your elbows. 

Bob kept up with these languid licks for only a moment longer. He started flicking his tongue against your clit, making you whine loudly. Bob brought his arms around your thighs, locking you in place against his mouth. He kept up his assault, randomly alternating the flicks and stroke of his tongue. At some point you had laid back completely on the bed, back arching hard when he sucked on your clit. 

“Oh my..” Your mouth was agape, moans and his name flowing freely from it. His right hand left your thigh, snaking up to your breast and squeezing it. 

“You sound like an angel.” Bob moaned, keeping his focus on your clit. His other hand left your thigh, coming down and pushing a finger inside of you. Your walls clenched around the finger, him thrusting it in tandem with his licks. Your hand moved down to his hair, almost catching his glasses in the process. Fuck, those glasses were really doing a number on you. 

A second finger entered you, then a third quickly. They were pushing and prodding against that sensitive spot inside of you. “Bob,” you looked down at him, “please..” 

“Let go, angel.” It quickly became too much, your orgasm rocking through you. You clenched around his fingers like a vice grip, his tongue giving languid strokes to your clit. Your legs began to shake as Bob kept going, not stopping anytime soon. His fingers kept working you while he started flicking his tongue on your clit again. 

“Fu-ck, Bob!” You grabbed at his hair, pulling it hard enough to get his mouth off you. His fingers followed soon after, an empty feeling replacing them. Bob audibly gulped as he looked at you, shaking and already thoroughly fucked. A small kiss was pressed to the inside of your thigh, Bob resting his head against the expanse of your exposed inner thigh. The thin metal frames of his glasses pressing into your skin. A comforting smile was on Bob’s lips, making your heart melt as your orgasm finally started to subside. 

“That… was amazing.” You whispered as you laid back on the bed, your hands settling on your stomach. Bob placed a few more kisses on your thigh, moving up your stomach to meet you face to face. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Your fingers played with the metal frames of his glasses slightly. There was a small devilish smirk on his face when he broke the kiss. 

"I'm glad you liked it," his arm snaked under your lower back, "but I'm not finished yet." There was that confidence he liked to keep hidden away. His arm tightened around your waist, hiking you up on the bed more. Bob had you in the middle of your bed quickly, settling himself between your legs. 

"I shouldn't need these anymore." Bob took off his glasses, setting them on the right bedside table. Bob leaned down and captured your lips again. His forearm was near your head, holding up a majority of his weight. Your legs were spread out for him, one of either side of his waist. One hand traveled up and down your sides, soothing and calming you while moving his cock closer to your cunt. 

"You ready?" Bob questioned with a peck to your cheek. 

"More than ready." Bob brought the hand from your side down to his shaft, lining himself up. Bob kept his eyes on your face, watching how your eyes fluttered when he ran himself through your folds. The head of his cock rubbing on your clit, sending small waves of pleasure through you. 

"Bob." It was a plea. You didn't want teasing, you wanted him stretching you out. Bob bit his lower lip and nodded, the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance. 

The stretch of his cock had your head thrown back. Bob let out a soft groan when he sank inside of you. Your warmth welcomed him more and more until he bottomed out. His eyes followed down your chest, watching your chest rise and fall. He brought his hand to the side of your thigh, hiking it up further on his hip. Bob nuzzled into your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin. 

"So tight." Bob practically whimpered, his hips slowly pulling back just to slowly press forward. The slow thrusts were agonizing. One of your hands threaded through his hair, your other arm draping around his shoulders. Just as you were about to say something, his thrusts picked up. 

Moans poured from your mouth, the head of his cock zeroing in on the sensitive spot inside you. Your walls were clenching hard around him, encouraging Bob to fuck you a little harder. Bob pulled back from your neck, watching your face for a moment. "Wanna see you." 

Suddenly, his thrusts stopped. Bob got up and sat back on his heels, keeping your legs spread wide apart. You were at his mercy now, your entire body on full display for him. "This way I can see all of you." 

Without hesitation Bob pressed back into you, resuming the pace he was previously at. That sensitive spot being targeted once more. Your hands dug into the comforter underneath you, back arching with pleasure. 

It felt like his whole world was spinning, watching you underneath him was beyond intoxicating. Bob watched his cock push in and out of you, watching it stretch you open. The way your tits bounced with every forward thrust had his mouth watering. Groans flowed from him as he watched you become more fucked out. 

"You're so fucking pretty." Bob grabbed your legs and set them up on one of his shoulders. His arms tightened around them, keeping your legs closed and tight. The sounds of skin smacking and your wet cunt filled the room. You felt that familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching. 

Bob knew you were close again, the clenching of your walls signaling it. Bob started thrusting harder, pounding the sensitive bundle. "Bob, I- oh fuck! Bob!" You tightened around his cock, your orgasm crashing hard. His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you through your orgasm. 

"That's it, that's it angel." Bob cooed, talking and fucking you through it. But his hips never slowed, keeping you at some form of high still. Bob moved your legs so one was on each of his shoulders. He watched himself fuck into you for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours. 

Bob’s head fell back, his thrusts never faltering as he let out a loud breath. You dragged your hands down his abdomen, “Bob, oh my-” 

“One more, I need one more.” The hand on your left calf moved to your clit, thumb rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. He started thrusting faster, keeping the circles tight and quick on your clit. The tightness in your abdomen had already returned, the overstimulation pushing out a rolling orgasm. 

When your insides clenched around his cock this time Bob lost it. His hips started to stutter while whimpers fell from his lips. Your hands were both now gripping the comforter, borderline screams falling from your lips. His whimpers turned to groans as his orgasm arrived. Bob pulled his cock out, leaving you empty. He pressed his cock between your folds, rubbing it between them. He unloaded himself all over your clit and cunt, spreading his cum all through your folds. 

Bob whimpered out a small ‘fuck’, watching himself fuck his cum through your folds. Your hips shook with pleasure, the slick wet feeling of his cum making you clench. Bob’s hands moved to your legs, rubbing the outside of your legs soothingly. He stopped his movements, looking down at you with an equally fucked out look. You finally registered his new look. 

A deep red blush covered his chest to cheeks, hair tousled and messy, with a thin layer of sweat covering him. He sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the side and cocking an eyebrow. His chest was rising and falling fast as he regulated his breathing. “Sorry..” Your eyebrows knitted together at his apology, wondering why he would be apologizing. 

“Why?” 

“Was it too much?” Bob asked, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. You took in a deep breath, trying to regulate your own breathing. 

“No, it was really hot.” You smiled as he removed himself from you. Bob laid down next to you, staring at you as you looked at him. “Huh?” 

“Nothing, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You rolled your eyes, surprised that the man that just fucked your brains out would think he didn’t please you. “Uh.. where can I.. clean up?” 

It was cute, watching him now slightly awkwardly ask for the clean up. You nodded your head and started sitting up, Bob quickly getting up to help you. Your legs were still shaky as Bob helped you walk to the bathroom. 

The two of you cleaned up, Bob being as gentle as possible when he cleaned his come off you. The warm washcloth helped soothe the now slightly raw flesh between your legs. Bob quietly waited outside of the bathroom, waiting for you to pee so he could help walk you back to bed. Bob helped you back to the bed, the both of you slipping on your undergarments and you putting on a big t-shirt before climbing under the covers. The two of you quickly fell asleep, Bob holding you from behind tightly.

The loud noise of the alarm woke the two of you up. Bob sat up swiftly, surprised by the unfamiliar surroundings. You reached out, hand soothingly rubbing his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay.” Bob gave you a weak smile, laying back down next to you. The two of you laid there for a few minutes before getting up. You watched as Bob gathered his clothes, dressing himself after finding them all. 

“Do you wanna stay for breakfast?” Bob shook his head no. 

“I’d love to,” he moved to grab his glasses from the side table, “but I can’t. I gotta go get ready for work.” He offered you a weak smile, hating having to turn down your offer. You gave him a smile, getting out of bed and walking him to the door. You gave him a goodbye kiss before he left. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” You asked. Bob gave you another smile, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

Your morning moved by quickly, shower, breakfast, memories from last night, driving to work. The typical things in your routine. You sat in your car before getting out, thinking about the events of your night. God, you really hoped to see Bob again. If not, at least he gave you a memorable night. 

“Quiet this morning, Howler.” Phoenix teased while zipping up her flight suit. “Where’d you disappear to last night?” 

“Home. I went home.” You zipped up the front of your suit. 

“With?” 

“You wouldn’t know him.” You really didn’t want her to know about your escapade last night. Halo chuckled at the two of you.

“Chances are high, if he is a pilot I mean.” 

“That’s why.” The three of you giggled as you all finished up. All of you made your way to the hanger, seeing the typical two person tables set up. A few people were already sitting down at the tables. Hangman, Coyote, and someone you didn’t know. They turned around and it hit you. Bob. The man how fucked your brains out was sitting in front of you. His eyes flicked between all of you, landing on you last. They were glued to you, making you stop in your tracks. Of course this would happen, why wouldn’t it?

“What? You scared, Howler?” Jake yelled out, eyes drifting down your stare to Bob. He cocked an eyebrow, staring at the both of you. Hangman didn’t say anything else, turning to make a snide comment at Phoenix. You swiftly made your way to the table behind Bob.

“What the fuck?” You whispered. Bob was bright red, his embarrassment obvious. The confidence he had last night being tucked away.

“I didn’t.. you’re a pilot?” Bob questioned, adjusting his glasses and trying to keep his gaze low while the two of you talked. 

“You are too, apparently.” Bob smiled awkwardly, giving a small nod. You couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked like this. 

“Gonna introduce me to your friend?” Rooster joked when he sat down next to you. Bradley nudged your arm with his elbow in an encouraging way. 

“This.. this is Bob. He is a..”

“WSO. I’m a WSO.” Phoenix pulled that chair next to Bob out, a big grin on her face. Fuck, she knew. 

“My most recent backseater.” Her grin painful to you. The teacher started the class, silencing the conversation you all were having.

The class felt like it dragged on. You needed it to end, needed to talk to Bob. Privately. When all of you were dismissed you leaned over your table, getting a knowing smirk from Rooster and Phoenix. Bob turned around when you tapped him on his shoulder. His cheeks were still rosy, making you wonder if he had been blushing all class. “You, me, private.” Bob nodded and got up, the two of you awkwardly excusing yourself from the group for a moment. 

The both of you were silent in the side hallway for a moment. He was facing you on one side of the hallway, you leaning against the other side. “So..” You lead.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you.” Bob apologized, making your heart break a little. 

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t say anything either.” You said, not wanting him to feel bad. There was nothing wrong with either of you forgetting to mention that you were pilots. “It’s not like we knew we’d be in this group together.” Bob took a few step towards you. His right hand grabbing your left hand, fingers lacing between yours. A smile crept on your lips at his affection. It was something you could get used to. 

“At least now we get to see each other again.” Bob’s words were sincere and full of affection. His heart fluttered as he watched you.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” You heard some footsteps, the both of you looking down the hallway to see Natasha. 

“Hurry up you two! We are getting ready to head up!” Once she stepped out of sight Bob pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was your turn for a heat to fill your cheeks at the gesture. A happiness spreads through you, glad that he was going to become a constant in your life.

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob ends up on thin ice with Molly after Bradley ends up on thin ice with her sister. But all he can think about is the perfect night he spent with her and how he'd be crushed if he didn't get a chance to do it all again. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob was trying his best to be in the moment at the Hard Deck, since he was the one who invited Molly's sister out for a drink. He wanted to say thank you for all the hard work she put in while Bradley was away. But he was so distracted. 

Molly had spent the entire day sending him selfies while she was at work, and some of them were definitely rated mature. Bob had almost broken his phone earlier trying to minimize a photo of Molly's pierced nipples when Coyote walked over to him. She had snapped the photo of herself in the bathroom at the hospital when she was on break along with the caption I miss you, Bobby <3

The little heart at the end reminded him that he had already said he loved her. He assumed she hadn't heard him, but it made him blush just the same. And now he was at the bar with her sister and Bradley, which should have been fun, but he just wanted to get home and see Molly. 

Bob watched Nat and Jake both relentlessly flirt with Team Mom, but there was no way she had eyes for anyone except Bradley. And then he wondered what it would be like if he brought Molly here. He wanted to, because he already wanted to be with her all the time. But...Bob looked around at all the guys, and that feeling of self doubt was back. Jake was handsome and charming, and probably the kind of guy Molly was used to being with. 

When Nat offered to buy a drink for Team Mom, Bob cut her off, glad for the distraction. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?" And while he was up at the bar, waiting patiently for Penny to fill his order, Molly's sister ran out of the bar, followed closely by Bradley. 

"What happened?" Bob asked, holding two beers while Jake rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He mumbled a response and walked away, but when Bradley finally came back inside, he looked like he was ready to kill Jake. 

And then the barrage of text messages from Molly came through. Bob's eyes went wide as he read them.

Are you aware that your buddy Bradley is actually a fucking dickhead? I can't BELIEVE what he did to my sister! 

Seriously, Bob. Why didn't you warn my sister about him?! What the fuck! He called Everett baggage!

Please tell me you're not like him!

You know what? Maybe I don't want to find out. 

Bob called her immediately, but she didn't answer. When he got her voicemail, he said, "Mo, please call me back so we can talk, okay? I don't think Bradley meant any of what he said. He's not a bad guy. And I... don't think I could ever do anything to hurt you." He contemplated telling her he loved her again, but he ended the call before he could. 

He was already home for the night when he got one last text from her.

I'm not coming over. 

Bob collapsed in his bed, raking his fingers through his hair, wondering if this, of all things, was what would cost him his chance with her.

--------------------------

Molly was having a wonderful evening with Everett. They painted huge masterpieces on poster boards and left all the messy brushes in the kitchen sink. Molly secretly loved leaving an innocuous mess for her sister to clean up in her otherwise spotless house. It kept her on her toes. 

"Movie time? With ice cream?" she asked Everett, checking the time. Of course she'd let him stay up late. That's just what aunts did. 

"There's ice cream?!" he shouted, sprinting back into the kitchen.

"Of course there's ice cream," she replied, kneeling in front of the freezer. "I know all of your mom's secrets. She thinks she's so sneaky, but you can't get anything past me." After removing all the healthy, pre portioned frozen dinners, Molly hit the jackpot. There was a gallon of fudge ripple and a gallon of vanilla raspberry. "See?" she asked Everett, holding them both up.

"Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple!" he chanted, and soon they were watching a PG-13 movie with two spoons stuck in the ice cream carton. 

"Want some more?" she asked, passing the carton to him.

He took a bite and said, "I don't think my mom wanted me to watch this movie."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "I'll cover your eyes for the scary parts, okay?"

"Okay!" he agreed.

Molly took a few more bites before she asked him, "You like Coach Bob, right?"

"Oh yeah, like a whole lot," he replied. "Almost as much as I like Coach Bradley."

"That's a lot," Molly muttered. "I like him, too." She was smiling as Everett looked at her. 

"You should probably marry him," he said seriously. "I heard my mom say that Coach Bob is smart and nice and that she never thought you could do so well."

Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like something your mom would say, and that's exactly why we are eating her overpriced ice cream without her. Now close your eyes for the scary part."

About twenty minutes later, Everett was sound asleep on her lap while she finished the ice cream. Then she carried him up to bed, starting to get a little nervous that her sister would be back soon. She tucked him in, turned on his nightlight, and then hightailed it back to the kitchen to hide the evidence of the empty ice cream carton. 

But when she got home, Molly could tell something was wrong and went right into protective jungle cat mode. "What happened?" she asked softly as soon as she saw her sister's tear streaked cheeks and quivering lips.

After a few minutes of being held in Molly's arms, she was able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

"That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," she said softly against Molly's shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said vehemently. 

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

It had been more than a makeout session, but Molly wasn't going to correct her. She was so into Bob after being intimate with him, that she was devastated now. Because Molly knew she would ditch him in an instant, even if it would hurt, in order to support her family. 

Molly kissed her sister's cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

-----------------------

Bob barely slept, and he was wide awake before his alarm went off on Saturday morning for the tee ball game. He hadn't heard another word from Molly. Even if she wanted to yell over the phone, he would have loved to hear her voice. 

When he arrived at the ballfield, Bradley was already there. "You look like shit," Bob told him, and he could hear the disappointment in his own voice. 

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley didn't hang around at the bar last night after things blew up, so Bob really wasn't sure exactly how bad it was.

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday."

Now Bradley looked sincerely upset on Bob's behalf. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bob felt his heart lurch as he looked up toward the parking lot and saw Molly and Everett headed his way. "I'll be right back," he mumbled and headed for her immediately. 

Everett ran past him, calling out, "Hi, Coach Bob!" before continuing on to Bradley. But Bob had his sights set on Molly and her beautiful face filled with indignant anger.

"Molly," he gasped, wanting to reach for her as she came stomping to a halt in front of him. She was glorious. God, he was in love with her.

"Tell me you knew," she demanded. "Tell me you knew Bradley was trying to play my sister." She was practically vibrating with concealed rage now. "Tell me you fucking knew he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as them."

Bob swallowed hard, and her eyes flashed. "Molly, he loves them. I don't think he would do or say anything to intentionally hurt either of them." 

"He has a sick way of showing it," she spat. "He called Everett baggage."

Bob held his forehead in his hands. "I think Bradley just needs to talk to her. He's so crazy about them, he's really beating himself up."

Bob watched Molly glance past him to glare at Bradley while he helped Everett get ready for the game. "He can rot," she said, but her voice was softer now. "And so can you if you agree with what he said." 

"I don't," he promised. "Please, Molly. I...I missed you yesterday as soon as I dropped you off at your car. I missed you all night. I missed texting with you until one of us fell asleep."

She looked up at him, eyes searching his face. She muttered, "I missed you, too," and then she was heading toward the bleachers. 

----------------------------

Molly was finding it hard to keep giving Bob the cold shoulder after another day. She was spending a lot of her time with her sister and nephew, sleeping over there and taking Everett out to keep him entertained.

She didn't feel any better after she blew up at Bradley. In fact Molly felt worse, because she sensed that Bradley really was sincere in the way he just wanted to apologize. And he clearly doted on Everett. Maybe he really did just want a chance to apologize, but Molly knew her sister wasn't ready to listen yet.

Her phone went off, and she reached for it while she was making coffee at her place late on Sunday morning. 

Coach Cute Glasses: I miss you, Molly. 

She groaned; the gas station flowers were in the vase right next to her, and she was trying not to look at them. Casey never did anything like give Molly flowers. He'd given her some hickeys and exactly two orgasms. But he also hadn't been friends with anyone who hurt her sister. 

She moaned helplessly. Her body was betraying her. She wanted to spend another night curled up with Bob, all warm and protected. She wanted to feel his even breathing and listen to his soft voice as she fell asleep. "Damn it," she whined, typing out a message to him.

Miss you, too. Any chance I'm still invited to your place? 

Molly was weak for Bob. She knew that already. Just one night with him, and she was constantly daydreaming about him at work. His rough hands. And how sweet he was. And how he wanted to be exclusive with her already. And his big cock. 

Coach Cute Glasses: You are always invited. Please, Molly, anytime. Do you want to spend the night with me? 

Molly snorted as she read the text, but another one was already coming through.  

Coach Cute Glasses: I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded! I'd just love to see you. I would be so happy if you wanted to come by, and even happier if you wanted to stay with me all night. I liked how it felt to wake up in bed with you. 

Molly tucked her phone into the pocket of her scrubs. He could wait it out for a bit. That sort of thing was good for a man. Especially one who was that eager to see you. But by the time she parked at the hospital, she texted him back. 

---------------------------------

Bob was in such a panic. Molly was coming over. And he wasn't sure if she was upset with him or just Bradley. He wasn't sure if she was planning on staying over. 

"I'm sorry," Bradley told him for the hundredth time when he called him. "I'm sorry if I blew it for you."

"I'm going to talk to Molly in a few hours," Bob said, rushing through the parking lot to his truck. He was running around, grocery shopping, trying to distract himself. 

"Can you tell her I miss her sister and Ev?" Bradley asked.

"I'll try," Bob promised as he got into his truck and ended the call.

Molly worked until 8 o'clock. He had a few hours to kill before he'd see her, so he wasn't quite sure why he was rushing. Then he stopped for more gas station flowers and cleaned his already spotless condo. He tried to eat dinner, but he couldn't stomach anything except toast. And when he finally heard her ringing the intercom button, he ran to answer it.

"It's Molly," she said softly, and he quickly let her into the building. He stood with his front door open, and a minute later, there she was. She had changed after work, and she looked stunning. No make-up at all and just some jeans and a crop top, but Bob felt suddenly short of breath. He wanted to run his hand along the flower tattoos on her side, and kiss her there too. 

"Molly," he whispered, fighting the urge to blurt out another I love you. He needed to keep it together right now. "Come in."

She walked past him and looked slowly around his living room and dining room while he closed and locked his door. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and suddenly he felt a little ridiculous that his place was so sparse. 

"Very clean," she muttered, her voice and clothing filling the space with so much color and warmth as she examined the gas station flowers. "I wouldn't know how to keep up with it," she said, turning and smiling softly at him. 

"I missed you," he blurted out, and her smile grew.

"Tell me more," she demanded, turning to fully face him. 

Bob swallowed and took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He was afraid he was going to stutter or say something stupid, but Molly just smiled at him, her all-knowing eyes gentle on his face as she waited.

"I...can't get you out of my mind. I called the runway attendant Molly by accident earlier, because I was thinking about you. Phoenix, my pilot, will never let me live it down."

Molly's laughter had him taking a step closer. "Tell me more," she said, also taking a step toward him. 

"I can't stand the thought of you being upset with me," he said sincerely. He ducked his head and added, "Thursday evening was one of the best nights of my life. Because I spent it with you." He paused, finally daring to meet her eyes.

"Oh, keep going," she said with a nod. "You're doing great."

"I want you to believe I'd never be friends with Bradley if I didn't think he was a good person. And I think he just got a little mixed up. Your sister and nephew really threw him for a loop, you know? But he really loves them."

Molly hummed and shrugged. "I guess I could relay that message to my sister. But I also have a message from me to you."

Bob took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I missed you, too. I can't stop thinking about you either. And Thursday night and Friday morning, you were so sweet to me, I just want more." Then she kissed his chin and took his hands in hers. "I want you to touch me."

Bob pulled her close as she placed his hands at her waist. He would never get used to being around her, not as easily as she seemed to already know how he operated. She looked up at him, gaze open and earnest. Soft fingers gliding up his arms, tucking into the short sleeves of his tee shirt and gently squeezing his biceps. She placed three soft kisses to the corner of his lips, and he was done. He had to fight the invading thoughts of her nipple piercings and the way her body feels and looks when she's whining for him in her bed beneath him.

"Molly," he begged, but he wasn't sure what he was begging for. 

"Bobby?" she asked softly, pushing one hand through his hair and keeping his gaze focused on her. "I think I need you to fuck me."

"Oh," he groaned, turning her and pushing her back against the wall. He caged her in, and she looked absolutely delighted. 

"If you want to." Her voice was soft and sweet, and her gaze was anything but.

"Honey," Bob managed between ragged breaths as she let her hands come to rest on his abs. She was messing with him. Messing him up completely. She knew exactly what she was doing, but meanwhile, Bob was new to this game. But he was a quick study. A fast learner. 

So when Molly licked her lips and pouted, saying, "You don't want me Bobby? I thought you wanted to be the only one," he was ready for her. 

He wedged one thigh up between her legs, and she gasped. Then his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding. She was grabbing for his shoulders, rubbing herself all over him. He could feel her teeth, digging into his bottom lip, not hard, but definitely not soft. When she released him, she licked his lips until her tongue was in his mouth. 

Bob was rock hard, and try as he may to keep control in this moment, he couldn't. Because Molly was stroking him through his pants and tasting his mouth. Her nose was rubbing along his as she whispered, "Do you want me, Bobby?"

He reached down, wrapping both of his hands around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up into his arms. Then her lips were on his neck and her arms were wrapped around him as he took her to his bedroom. She was on her back on his bed, kicking her shoes off while her little top rode up so Bob could see the soft undersides of her breasts. There was too much to admire here, and he froze up. 

When Molly's hands found the zipper of her jeans, she whispered. "I want you to say it, Bobby. I want you to tell me everything you plan to do to me." And then her hand was slipping inside her underwear, and she was stroking herself as he watched. 

"Mo," his voice was hoarse. He pushed her knees apart and settled between her legs, bending to kiss her wrist before pulling her hand free of her jeans. "I want to put my mouth on you."

The smile that curled along her lips as she started to shimmy out of her jeans and underwear should have made him a little nervous, but he was beyond help. Her bare pussy was right there, and she smelled so good. As soon as her jeans hit his floor, Bob's face was buried in her. 

"Alright, Lieutenant Floyd," she moaned softly. "Okay." And to Bob's delight and dismay, Molly's hands were on her own breasts, pushing her shirt up and playing with her piercings. She tasted so good as he ran his tongue through her wetness and sucked on her clit. But soon he was rutting into the bed, the sight of her fingers on those little barbells spurring him on. 

When Bob slipped his tongue inside her, Molly's back arched off the bed as she started whining for him. "Bobby, I want your big cock." He grunted in response, willing to give her anything in this moment, and shocked by how much he liked her dirty talk. 

He worked the zipper over his painfully hard erection and scrambled to get himself free. And then he was rocking into her at the same time he got his mouth on her nipples. 

"Yes," she hissed softly, head tipped back with a soft giggle on her lips. He was fucking her, and it felt just as perfect as it had a few days previously. Like her whole body was made for him. Like every response from her perfect lips was just what he needed to hear. "So fucking big."

He pushed those little, silver barbells around with his teeth and tongue, tugging a little bit until Molly was gasping his name. When he sucked harder on her nipples, she was screaming for him. And when she came on his cock, holding his face against her breasts and shaking beneath him, Bob could hardly believe he'd been able to make her orgasm again. 

"Molly," he gasped. "I love the way you shake."

"Oh my god," she moaned as he fucked her through her little tremors. But then she was sitting up, kissing his face, and Bob slipped out of her perfect warmth as she moved to kneel on his floor.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. She pulled her shirt over her head, and ran her hands up over his thighs. Bob's pants were pulled down to his knees, and Molly pushed them to his ankles before wrapping her pretty lips around his cock. She settled in between his legs, and Bob could only stare at her and try to memorize the obscene sounds they made together. 

Molly was good at this. She was good at everything. Bob tried to keep up, but her mouth felt too perfect. And then she popped up onto her knees and started running the tip of his cock along those pretty piercings. "Molly!"

"You like that?" she asked coyly, but Bob was hypnotized by the look and feel of the barbells on his erection. With a soft groan, Molly squeezed her perfect breasts together, sandwiching Bob between them. He thrust himself up closer to her mouth, and sure enough, she parted her pretty lips and licked him. Bob continued to do this until he was grunting and Molly's saliva was dripping down her chest, making the sensations even more spectacular for him. 

Slick saliva, wet breasts and Molly's mouth. "Oh!" he grunted, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as she sucked on him. But when she took his tightening balls in her soft hand and gave him a little squeeze, Bob came hard, without any warning. He watched in alarm as his cum spurted all over her lips and cheeks while she giggled. Molly jerked him off until he was gasping for air and wishing he had enough in him to coat her whole body, because it looked that pretty.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes, and Bob watched as his cum dripped down from her eyelashes, along her cheek and landed on her nipple piercing. Molly took his hand in hers and ran his fingers through the mess before guiding his hand up to her lips. She tasted him there and ran her tongue between his long fingers and across his palm. 

"You made the mess," she whispered before sucking on his thumb for a beat. "Now you have to help me clean up."

"Gladly," he promised, nearly rocketing off the bed as she set his hand on her breast. Bob used his wet thumb to collect his cum from her piercing and then he let her take his hand between her lips again. But then he was on the floor with her, pushing her gently onto her back as she laughed. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, but the words died on her lips when Bob licked his own cum off of her chest before kissing her and letting her taste it. He held both of her wrists in his hands above her head, and he was treated to the sights and sounds of Molly. She was rubbing her pussy along his soft length as she licked his cum from his mouth, and Bob just enjoyed making out with her on the floor. Everything tasted like him and smelled like Molly, and he listened to her soft laughter. 

His hands and shirt were a mess of cum, and Molly's pretty face absolutely lit up for him when he whispered, "I like the way I taste on your skin."

"Bobby. You fucking deviant," she moaned, taking his face between her slightly sticky palms and leaning up to kiss his lips. She wrapped one leg around his waist to keep his body against hers, and Bob let his cheek come to rest on her chest. He'd never been called anything close to that before, but he could tell he'd lose himself in the moment with Molly over and over again like this if she'd keep letting him. 

And then he blurted out, "You're not mad at me then?" while she combed her fingers through his hair. 

She hummed in contemplation. "No, I'm not mad at you, Coach Bob. I'm pissed off at Bradley, and I'm trying to protect my family. But I'm not mad at you."

Bob sighed in relief and ran his fingers along her pretty tattoo. He had found it actually painful the way she'd been avoiding talking to him, but he could see where she was coming from. 

"That makes me happy. And I can understand you wanting to protect them. They are where your loyalty lies."

"Don't fuck with my family," she whispered softly as she turned her head, and Bob glanced up at her as she swiped at her eyes. "I hardly have any left."

Bob could sense that she wanted him to change the subject, so he kissed her soft skin and said, "I like your tattoos."

She laughed sardonically and said, "Thanks."

"Did you get the carnation tattoos because it's your favorite flower?" he asked, running his index finger along the colorful ink.

"No," she told him. She was quiet for a moment, and Bob started sweating before she asked, "Did you know that there are different flowers that coordinate with your birth month?" 

Bob had heard of this before. "Sure," he told her, wondering where she was going with this. 

Her voice sounded a little rough, but her fingers were still soft in his hair as she said, "My parents were both born in January. Carnations were their birth flowers. That's why I have the tattoo. And kind of why I love the gas station flowers."

"Oh," Bob said, about to add that she didn't need to talk about it if she didn't want to. But then she rolled a little closer to him as he sat up, and she pointed to the other three flowers mixed in.

"The morning glory is for my sister's birthday. The chrysanthemum is mine. And the pretty red rose is for Everett's birthday in June. I got that one the day after he was born. It's actually my favorite one."

"It's beautiful," Bob told her, running his thumb along the chrysanthemum and meeting her eyes. 

"Listen," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm protective of my sister. She took care of me when our parents both died. I moved in with her while she finished college. She shared her bed with me and made sure I ate. She sold my parent's house and gave me most of the money to pay for nursing school and a new, reliable car. And the fact that I can occasionally help her out a little bit now is really important to me. So if you think I need to castrate Bradley, you should probably just tell me now, okay?"

Bob laughed in spite of himself. "Maybe a kick to the nuts, but castration is probably not necessary, Honey. He's beating himself up enough, I can tell you that much. And I honestly think Bradley would jump in front of a moving car for Everett." 

"See, now that's what I like to hear," she told him, sitting up and draping her arms around him. Her skin was a little sticky from his cum, and Bob let her push him back until he was laying on the floor underneath her this time. She settled her chin in his chest and looked up at him. "Now tell me when your birthday is, Lieutenant Cute Glasses. I want to know how your flower would look in my tattoo bouquet."

Bob could feel his cheeks warming up. She wanted to know what a tattoo in his honor would look like on her perfect skin. And now she was just lounging right there on him, naked as the day she was born and just completely flawless. And she was waiting, just like she always did. Waiting until he was ready to say what he was thinking, but never rushing him.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I have the most embarrassing birthday," he told her, and she cocked her head to the side. 

"Oh," she sighed. "April twentieth?" 

"No," he told her. "Worse. Leap day. February 29th."

"Oh! No, that's such a good one, Bob!" she insisted. "And your flower would be a violet. So pretty!"

But he just kept shaking his head. "Mo, you don't understand, Honey."

"Then explain it to me," she whispered, kissing his chest and stroking his skin. 

"My name is Bob. B O B. Bob. I got the nickname Baby On Board during flight training a decade ago, because I was technically five years old...."

She blinked at him a few times before she burst into laughter. Bob waited while Molly rolled around on the floor, gripping her sides and gasping for air. "And technically how old are you now?" she managed to ask through her laughter.

Bob waited until she calmed down a bit more. "Eight."

"Eight!" she screeched. "Don't say that to me! We've had sex!" Her laughter had Bob chuckling too now. "How old would you be if you had a birthday every year?" she asked, eyes wide as she giggled.

"Thirty two."

"Thirty two! Perfect," she sighed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm not going to get arrested then."

Bob rolled his eyes and whispered, "I think a new flower would look pretty good in your bouquet."

And now Bob was thinking about a violet tattoo on her skin next to the other pretty flowers as Molly curled up on his bedroom floor with her arm wrapped around him. 

---------------------------------

Bob without Molly....it just doesn't make sense. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 5

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[writingdumpster]

not afraid

pairing: Bob Floyd x gn!reader (no pronouns)

warnings: none

summary: kinda the opposite of the 1D song 'She's Not Afraid." reader is afraid of a horror movie. Just fluffy little fluff tbh.

word count: 1.2k

A/N: Sorry that I haven't posted in so long. I don't know how much more frequent it's going to be but for now I have some time off, so it might be a little more. Thanks to everyone who's been reading my work even without me making new content. Love y'all.

Bob remembered the day you asked him out as clear as day. You worked in his favorite second hand bookstore. He had developed quite the crush on you and had acquired stacks of unread books all over his apartment. Some of them he had picked up without giving them a second look and spent the rest of his visit making small talk with you. One pile was dedicated to the books you had recommended him. That stack didn’t have the dust that the others did sitting atop the books. It had been about a month of him visiting the bookstore a couple times a week. 

The day you asked him out he had lingered in the mystery section of the store. He knew it was your favorite. He was waiting, hoping you would come and suggest another book that he could read while thinking of you. You always did. Today you didn’t though, you stayed at the counter. He thought maybe you were upset with him or that he had waited too long to make a move. He finally picked a book, one by an author he thought you had picked for him before.

“Hi, Bob,” you greeted when he got to the counter. 

“Hi,” he replied. You smiled at the anxiety present in his voice. He was trying to come up with the words to ask you out as you scanned the book. He handed you his card in silence and you wrapped the book up in paper and handed him back his card. You smiled at him. He looked back at you, his mouth slightly open. 

“Do you–um–I mean…” Bob blushed brightly. He looked down at his feet. 

“Do you want to go out with me?” You asked him. Bob turned his head up to look at you. 

“Go out with you?” He asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, on a date. There’s a movie based on one of the books you bought here coming out this weekend. I thought we could go and then get dessert at that place you told me about last week,” you said. Bob blushed bright red. You listened to the things he said. You remembered them. You’d clearly been thinking about him too. He was thinking all of this while he stared at you blankly. You tilted your head slightly at him and Bob shook off the shock. 

“Yes. Definitely yes,” he spit out. 

“Great,” you said, holding in a chuckle. “Give me your phone number. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out the details.” Bob walked out of the bookstore that night with bright red cheeks and a wide grin. He was thoroughly smitten by you and you adored his nervous energy. You didn’t mind making the first move if it meant that you got to keep making the nerdy WSO blush the way that he had the first time you helped him check out. 

The next three months of dating him had granted you just that. You kissed him first on your third date. You were the one who dragged him into your apartment when you spent your first night together. You were the one who asked him to be exclusive with you. You were the one who said ‘I love you’ first. You were also the one who proposed going to the horror movie you were seeing that night. Nevertheless, you had been curling into Bob’s shoulder the whole way through the movie. When you walked out you were still clinging to him. 

“Bob, you have to sleep over. I can’t sleep alone after that,” you told him firmly.  

“‘Bob’ huh? No nickname, you must really be scared,” he teased.

“You didn’t think it was scary?” You asked. 

“A little,” he shrugged. “I don’t believe in ghosts though.” He was clearly holding back a chuckle. You were constantly telling him the bookstore you worked in was haunted. You scowled at him.

“The bookstore is haunted. If you come help me on one of the night shifts you’ll see,” you told him. He smiled at you. 

“I’ll come help you whenever you want,” Bob said. He was happy to go home with you. He had gotten slightly used to the way it felt to have you in his arms. He was considering taking up an interest in horror movies purely to land himself in more situations like this. He was enjoying the feeling of being the brave one for once. He had always been protective of you, but he had never seen you needing his protection either. You were the most confident and capable person he’d ever met. If you hadn’t been you never even would have gone on a date. 

Bob noticed the way you were lingering around him as you got ready for bed. You kept the bathroom door open while you brushed your teeth so you could have your eyes on Bob. You followed him to the kitchen when he went to get a glass of water. Bob had climbed into bed while you were taking off your jewelry. You took a deep breath as you approached the light switch. You flicked the lights off and then sprinted the short distance to your bed. You quickly tucked yourself under the covers and curled into Bob’s arms. He let out a small giggle, his chest shaking against your head. 

“What are you laughing about?” You questioned, turning to look up at him.

“It’s nothing, baby,” Bob said. You prodded him in the side. “You’re just so much braver than me about everything else,” Bob explained. “It’s funny that some CGI ghosts are what gets you.”

“It said it was based on a true story!” You defended as you snuggled closer into Bob’s chest. 

“I think they just meant that house was real,” Bob replied. You huffed in his arms. Bob let out another light chuckle. He kissed the top of your head. 

“You have to stay over tomorrow too, Bobby,” you whispered shyly. Bob smiled above you. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard you being shy about asking him for something. 

“I can do that, sweetheart,” he assured you. You tightened your hold on him and nuzzled your nose against his chest. 

“And you can’t let go of me tonight,” you requested. 

“Of course not,” he said. “The ghosts can’t get you if I’m here right?” He joked. 

“Nothing can get me if you’re here.” Bob’s heart skipped a beat. There was an honesty in your words that made him feel so warm. You trusted him to protect you. This whole time he had seen you as the brave one–the one who was leading the two of you. But there you were in his arms telling him that he was what you wanted to chase away your fears. You didn’t seem to realize what your words meant to Bob though. You let out a soft snore. He smiled to himself at the sound. 

“I love you,” Bob whispered into your hair, despite the fact that you were asleep. To his surprise you shifted in his arms. You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his chest. When you spoke it was only a mumble but Bob knew what you were saying. 

“Love you too.”

[croimilis]

King of My Heart

title: king of my heart

rating: 16+

characters: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (callsign ‘siren’)

words: 5.8k

themes: friends to lovers, idiot in love, fluff, mutual pinning

warnings: alcohol, cursing, minor injury detail (bruises, cuts), plane ejection, use of petnames (sweetheart), mentions of illness and parental death, mentions of needles, making out, mentions of anxiety

summary: "and all at once, you are all I want, i'll never let you go"

An accident during training and a little liquid courage has Bob finally making his move

tags: @sebsxphia​ 

a/n: part of the fly me to the moon universe. 

Falling in love with Robert Floyd was like standing in the eye of a hurricane, the world around you being torn apart at the seams and yet there is calm, serenity in the way he holds your hand when he’s nervous, in the way his eyes never leave yours when your talking, in the way he always makes sure to smile at you when you enter the room as a small way to say ‘hey, i’m here’ because he knows that despite your outgoing personality you can get overwhelmed in social situations and he wants to remind you that he’s a safe space where you can just sit in enjoy each other presence without committing to a conversation, in the way that he can read your body language and knows you better than yourself. 

Realising you were in love Robert Floyd was like walking through a soft spring rain, you don’t realise how intense it is until you’re soaked through to the core, until the feeling is so all consuming you can barely breath and you feel it seeping through your bones, setting every nerve on fire until it settles deep in your heart and you suddenly know that is love. 

It was five months ago that you realised you were in love with Bob, well, five months since your sister came to visit you at Lemoore and practically scolded you for not snatching Bob up because he was the perfect man. Five months since you insisted that you were just friends. Five months since he held you in his arms and let you cry your heart out over the fact that your fathers health was getting worse and you couldn’t be there. 

Five months since your sister looked at you watching Bob one night and said to you, “He looks at you like mom looks at dad” and you had never known a purer love than your parents. Five months since you looked over at Bob and saw him already watching you, that soft smile he reserved only for you on his face, and the realisation came crashing down that you were in love with Robert Floyd.  Five months since you decided you were going to do absolutely nothing about it, afraid of ruining the close friendship you had developed over the years. 

Bob thought the realisation that he was in love would be electric, like every nerve would be set on fire, he thought it would be like getting lost at sea and being swept under by waves over and over unable to catch his breath. He thought love should be wild and alive, coursing through his veins like it was adrenaline. 

But it wasn’t. It was peaceful and soft, seeping into the very fibre of his being, it was like being wrapped in a warm hug, of warmth and safety, of coming back to a warm house after walking through an endless storm, it was the feeling of you. 

Of holding you close to his chest when you curl up together during a movie night, of the sound of your laugh and the brightness of your smile, of how your hand slips into his and gives it a gentle squeeze to reassure him that you're there beside him during any event. 

It was two months ago that Bob realised he was completely and absolutely in love with you, two months since Phoenix practically smacked him across the back of the head when he started moping around the hanger when you told him you had a date (one you were going on in a half-hearted attempt to get over him) and explained to him why he was so upset about you going on a date. 

Two months since Bob looked over to you in the hanger, working on your own plane smiling and laughing with your wingmen, and he thought to himself that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen with the way the sunlight filtering through the hanger danced across your body and made you glow so beautiful Bob could have swore you were a goddess incarnate, a flush spreading throughout his entire body with his heart thundering in his chest and the only thought flashing through his mind being, “I’m so in love you”. It was two months since Bob decided that he was going to take the realisation and the feelings and bury them deep inside himself, the fear of losing you as a friend overriding his desire to pursue you romantically. 

It was 12 hours ago that the world crashed down around Bob, 12 hours since he had last seen you. 12 hours since you had to eject from your jet after an engine failure and were admitted to hospital for a check-up to make sure you were okay, 12 hours since his heart almost beat out of his chest and anxiety swelled throughout his body to the point it was painful and he felt like he was going to throw up, bile forming in the back of his throat every time he thought of you being hurt and alone in the hospital. He knew you hated them, hated the clinicalness of it all, hated the fake smiles doctors and nurses held. But most of all he knew you hated the memories that came with them, of your grandfather and, most recently, your father hooked up to machines, their eyes and bodies lifeless as they finally lost themselves to their illnesses. 

He wanted to be with you, god he wanted to but Maverick had informed him no one was allowed in to see you and that you would only be in for a few hours while they ran some tests, some bloods alongside a CT and MRI to make sure you didn’t suffer from any internal injuries because on the outside you seemed completely fine, a few cuts and bruises from the landing but otherwise fine. Bob should have felt relieved at the news, but his anxiety only grew, despite being one of the best naval aviators that top gun produced and one of the bravest people he knew, he knew of your fear of needles and medical testing, again associating them with the failing health of your family members. 

The anxiety grew and grew throughout the day, turning from a sapling into a horrible monster that wrapped its claws around his heart and squeezed until he was sure it was going to stop, that wrapped a hand or tail around his throat and squeezed so tightly that he thought he was going to pass out because of his inability to breath. The worry planted itself in his heart and spread its roots throughout his veins until he could feel it in every fibre of his being, the heaviness of it making it hard to move until he suddenly couldn’t, as if the roots had spread from the veins in his legs and out through the soles of his feet and wormed their way into the ground beneath him, knotting over and over under the hardwood of the hard deck floors so it kept him anchored, unable to take even a step away from the bar where he currently sat, a bottle of beer in his hands and an empty whiskey glass to the left that he had finished within his first few minutes of entering the bar. 

Phoenix could see the tension in her back seaters shoulder’s, the way he sat hunched over with his eyes trained onto the grains of the countertops and how he was gripping the bottle of beer with all his strength (to the point she was afraid it was going to break in his hands), and it worried her. She had never seen Bob like this, not even when they flew the uranium mission did he hold this much stress in his body and she was concerned. To the point that she was quick to abandon the game of pool she was playing (and winning) against Hangman to go and see if he was okay. Which he obviously wasn’t if the way he jumped out of his skin when she placed her hand gently on his shoulder was any indication. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

As Bob’s nerves settle a little, the scare from Natasha’s sudden appearance dissipating and mingling with the anxiety already overwhelming his body, he puts the beer to his lips and gives a gentle nod. A nod that wasn’t all that convincing as Natasha raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest, showing she wasn’t leaving until he spilled. As Bob places the beer on the counter he sighs and dips his head forward a little so he’s once again staring down at the counter tops. 

“Jus’ concerned about Siren s’all.” As Bob speaks a little bit of his southern twang slips through, something he was usually careful about, but the small amount of alcohol seeping through his veins alongside the anxiety makes him long forget about hiding his natural accent, and if Natasha notices it she says nothing and just nods her head. Instead, she leans on the bar beside Bob, propping her chin in her hand as she does. 

“Hmmm… and that’s just friendly concern, right?” Natasha’s eyes watch Bob from her periphery, and she smiles as a blush spreads across his cheeks and some of the tension eases a little at her teasing, she didn’t really know how to help. She had never had a friendship like the two of yours, never had a love like what Bob held for you, but if she could take his mind off it for just a little bit then she could. 

“Of course… of course… just friendly concern.” Natasha smirks to herself as she watched Bob down the rest of his beer, it was one of only two times she had seen the WSO drink the other time being the celebration after the success of the uranium mission and even then he limited himself to just a couple beers over the many hours of celebrating but here he was a whiskey straight and a beer already finished in the space of 30 minutes. 

“Right…right.” A deep sigh falls from Natasha’s lips as she fully turns toward Bob once again, her hand still propped on her hand though now it was by her cheek instead of her chin. “You should tell her.” 

Bob eyes Natasha suspiciously, the tension eased a little bit more as he orders another whiskey and Natasha a beer, “Tell who what?” 

“Tell (Y/N) that you’re in love with her” 

Bob nearly chokes on his own spit at Natasha’s words, his face growing redder than it was before, though it's hard to tell if that was from the alcohol or his embarrassment. He knew that Phoenix knew he was in love with you, she had been the one to point it out to him after all, but this was the first time she had encouraged him to actually say anything. Clearing his throat, Bob begins to pick at the label of the empty beer bottle in front of him.

“I can’t do that…” Though his voice is quiet, Natasha still manages to hear him and she offers him a sweet smile and squeezes him on the shoulder gently. She knew his fears, knew he was scared of losing you but she also knew how you felt. Had seen the way you looked at Bobby (you were the only one allowed to call him that) like he placed the stars in the sky himself and was responsible for the rise and fall of the sun every morning and night, how you always looked at him like he was the most interesting person in the room even as he rambled on about the jets and his systems (something that put most people to sleep). She knew you were as hopelessly and desperately in love with him as he was with you. 

“Can’t do what Bobby?” Your voice surprises them both as they whip around and see you standing just behind them in your civies, your bomber jacket on and your aviators slipped into the neck of your shirt. 

The sound of your voice is like the whiskey he was drinking, warm and honey smooth as it warms its way into his heart and spreads a heat through his body that burns the roots of worry that had made a home in his body and the sight of you, healthy and alive with a smile on your face that is reserved only for him, turns the monster gripping his throat and chest into something soft and fluffy and warm and suddenly he can breath again and can move freely, feet taking him one step closer to you and then another and then another until he’s standing within arms reach and all he wants to do is reach out and pull you into his arms and never let you go until the world falls apart around him. 

“C-can’t handle my alcohol.” Bob lets out a nervous chuckle as Penny sets his second whiskey down behind him and rubs at his neck as Phoenix steps forward and takes you into a hug. 

“Glad to see you’re okay Siren.” 

“Thanks Nat.” Your voice is soft and there’s a little bit of strain to it, like you had been crying and your throat was still tender. To anyone else, it was the only indication you had been crying, your eyes bright and clear,no redness or puffiness around them. But Bob knew better, looked closer and could see the streaks that stained your cheeks no matter how much you tried to wipe them off. 

Natasha gives you one last squeeze and a peck to your cheek as she pulls away, eyes drifting between your form and Bobs with a small smile as she steps back, “We’re in the usual place if you're up for joining us.” As she turns to walk back towards the group crowded around the pool table in the corner, Phoenix mouths at Bob “tell her” and gives your shoulder a gentle rub as she passes by. 

You both smile at her as she walks away, eyes following her until she’s back with the rest of the squad before turning back to one another. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, all the stress and anxiety you had been harbouring all day bubbling to the surface once again and threatening to overwhelm you with tears once again welling in your eyes as Bob opens his arms up to you to bring you into an embrace. One you are quick to take, arms wrapping tightly against his torso and burying your head into his chest, taking deep breaths to try and try and stop the anxiety welling inside you, as Bobs wrapped his arms around your shoulder and places his chin on your head. 

As you took deep breaths through your nose, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of Bob. His cologne is almost over powering but underneath the sharpness is the smell of him, of engine oil from working on the jet all day and the lingering smell of cloves and cinnamon buried underneath the harshness of the engine oil. It was strange but it was grounding and in combination with Bob's strong arms around you, applying pressure in the right places, the anxiety inside you starts to slowly melt away. 

It starts in your shoulders, the tension in them all but evaporating as they droop a little and then it moves down your arms, a feeling of warmth spreading underneath your skin and through your veins as you feel your muscles relax, to your hands which spread themselves against the panes of Bobs back, and down down your spine, legs, and feet, as if it was dripping through your soles and into the floorboards below. 

You're so focused on your breathing, on erasing your anxiety and worries that you don’t notice Bob gently rubbing his hand down the column of your spine and him whispering in your ear that you were going to be okay, but that was more for his own reassurances than yours. The weight of you in his arms, the pressure of holding you against his chest, the scent of your perfume and shampoo invading his senses all serve as a reminder that you were alive, that you were standing in front of him and you were okay. It settled any anxiety that remained in his system. 

If Bob was being honest, he didn’t want to let you go, wanted to hold onto you for the rest of time. But he couldn’t, so instead he lets you go but keeps a hand on your arm as he leads you to the bar and moves it so it's sitting just between your shoulder blades as you lean on the bar and order a (preferred drink) from Penny, who gives you a sweet smile that lets you know she’s glad your okay and offers Bob a questioning glance as she notices the closeness between the two of you. 

It wasn’t unusual for you and Bob to be close, unless your training or on base the two of you were never too far from one another but you were usually the one to initiate any kind of affection, be it a hug or having a hand on his arm or shoulder as you stood next to him, and the affection from Bob wasn’t unwelcome, you relished in it and enjoyed it every time he initiated it. But something about this was different. 

It was soft and warm, and yet you could almost feel the desperation and fear behind it, almost as if you were going to disappear in a cloud of smoke between his fingers if he wasn’t touching you, if he couldn’t feel the sensation of your heart hammering against your ribcage (even if it's muted through your back). And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t so sure you wouldn’t disappear, even if it was just to an unwelcome headspace, if Bob wasn’t there grounding you to reality. 

Bob wanted to ask how you were, if you were okay, what the hospital said, but one look at the slight dissociation in your eyes and he drops the thought, not wanting to distress you any further, instead her lifts his glass of whiskey and downs it one go which causes your eyebrows to shoot up as you looked at him. 

“You okay Bobby?” The genuine concern lacing your tone sends butterflies coursing through Bob's body, his nerves tangling in his stomach until it felt like it was flipping over and over. You had your personal day of hell, and yet still found yourself worried about little old him. Bob loved your caring personality, he just wished you focused on yourself for once instead of other people. 

Bob is quick to nod his head and place the glass back down on the counter, the burn in his throat and the heat of the alcohol coursing through his veins a welcome distraction from how he had previously been feeling, as Penny places your own drink down on the counter in front of you, accompanied by a shot courtesy of Maverick which you are quick down. The burning sensation is welcome and your body already feels lighter as it makes its way through your bloodstream. 

“I’m good sweetheart” A blush spreads across your face, Bob had never called you sweetheart before and it felt so good coming from him, you associated the word ‘sweetheart’ with condescending men who thought they knew better than you or thought you owed them something, with them it was a weapon. A word sharpened at the edges and used to dig under your skin to cause annoyance or cause you to bleed for compliance. But with Bob, it was like whiskey, honey sweet and smooth, spreading a welcome warmth through your entire body. 

You wanna question him, wanna know why he called you it, but he’s ordering another drink before you can, seemingly doing it by complete accident, just a slip of the tongue brought on by the whiskey he had downed, so you leave it. Instead lift your drink, taking a small sip as you turn and lean against the bar while waiting for Bob's third whiskey to arrive before you join the rest of the crew. 

It's easy to find the rest of the dagger squad in the room of full of khaki uniforms, the tall forms of Rooster and Hangman easily standing out amongst the other aviators in the room, even if they weren’t the booming laugh of Rooster is loud enough for you to follow. You watch in amusement and the disbelief on Hangman's face and the pride on Phoenix’s as she stands from the pool table, she had obviously beat the tall blonde and you could see his mouth moving already demanding a rematch because there was no way in hell he was gonna let Phoenix have her win. 

You smile to yourself and take another sip of your drink, jumping a little as Bob places his hand on your shoulder to let you know he’s ready to head over to the others. Though he’s quick to remove it given your response, but you can still feel the warmth of it even through your bomber jacket almost as if it was scorching your skin. You shake the feeling off though and instead follow behind Bob as you head towards the usual pool table with a smile on your face, giving everyone a tight hug as they greet you. 

It’s three hours later that you move away from the crowd of aviators and towards a little corner to just watch them. You were a social person, enjoyed a good get together but sometimes things got a little overwhelming, a little too loud, a little too much and suddenly anxiety would crawl its way up your throat and take root and you would panic. You didn’t want that. Didn’t want to ruin people’s nights, especially with Maverick bringing his daughter in, just because you were a little anxious. So you took a step back, moved away from the source of the anxiety and attempted to soothe yourself.

Bob sees you’ve moved away from the crowd, he seems to be the only one who has noticed, the rest of the team too preoccupied with getting to know Mavericks daughter and so he was able to slip away and join you in your little corner. As he joins you, he notices your eyes are glazed over slightly and you look like your mind is floating a million miles away. He offers you a small smile and leans against the wall opposite you, content not to speak but be able to offer you some company, keeping you grounded to reality.

You offer Bob a soft smile and tilt your head towards the ceiling, taking a slow deep breath as you do to try and calm the anxiety that was threatening to boil over the surface. Bob reaches a hand out and runs it down your bare arm (your bomber jacket long abandoned and under the bar away from where it could get ruined), hands wrapping gently around your wrist before moving to lock his fingers with yours. 

The feeling is grounding, bringing you back down to reality before your mind can spiral completely and you're lost in the waves of anxiety. Your skin feels warm where Bob’s touch lingered and you can feel your palm heating up and almost becoming clammy as he brings it up and holds it against his chest where you can feel the gentle beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

What you don’t know is a similar feeling is brewing inside Bob, his thoughts spiralling a little as the thoughts from earlier returned. About how he could have lost you, how absolutely terrified he was over the fact he could have lost you, how his heart got closer and closer to shattering into a million pieces the longer he went without seeing you and how all the cracks seemed to heal over the minute he laid his eyes on your form when you arrived at the Hard Deck that night. 

You come back to reality, moved so you were no longer staring at the ceiling but instead looking at Bob only to see he was now floating away in his thoughts. You untangle your hand from his, placing it flat against his chest and giving it a gentle tap to draw his attention to you, “You’re floating away Bobby, everything okay?” 

Bob cleared his throat and shook his head a little as if that would help dispel the thoughts swirling around them before he replies. “I-I… fuck” With the way you were looking at him, eyes all soft and full of adoration he hadn’t seen before and how you moved your hand away from his chest and down his arm to take his hand in yours and give it a gentle squeeze to ground him much like he did you, he knew he needed to tell you. 

Bob was never poetic and he wasn’t very good with his words, with telling people how he felt about them. He knew what he was feeling, his mama made sure he was emotionally mature enough to identify his feelings, he just had a hard time vocalising them. This was no different, he knew he was in love with you. Had been for god knows how long before he realised it himself and he wanted to tell you. God, he wanted to tell everyone, wanted to climb to the highest mountain and shout it for the world to hear. 

But fear ate away at his heart. Fear that you would think he was weird, that you would withdraw from him, that you would hate him, most of all he feared losing you completely. He would much rather have you in his life as just a friend than lose you completely. But with the alcohol coursing through his blood stream, the fear ebbed away and what was left was an overwhelming desire to let you know. He wasn’t sure where it came from, if he was to rationalise it in his sober mind it would be the fact that you could have died when you ejected from the plane and then you would have ever known, your ejection serves as a reminder that seeing the next sunrise wasn’t promised and he didn’t want to die, or see you die, without you knowing how he felt. 

Bob's eyes dart from the floorboards to your face, your usual soft smile gracing your lips as you look at him questioningly, but never prying. You knew what Bob wanted to say was important, could see it in the tension forming in his shoulders and how the vein running along his jaw jumped, but you weren’t going to push. No, you trusted Bob and he trusted you, so you knew that it would come out eventually, be that five minutes or five years from now. 

As Bob's eyes reach yours, for a second he thinks he can see the love he has for you reflected back at him, the same love Phoenix had insisted you felt for him, and it spurs him on as he steps closer to you. Your breath hitches as he does, a flush spreading across your cheeks as he stops so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“(Y/N)...I’m in love with you” The silence that followed Bob's declaration seems to go on forever, a pregnant pause as you let his words sink in. Your heart starts to flutter and your every nerve lights up, making you feel like you’re vibrating, heat spreads throughout your body as a flush turns your cheeks red. You're stunned, you never thought you would see the day where Bob Floyd loved you back, had convinced yourself it was impossible no matter what your sister had told you, but yet he does. 

As you stand in silence, letting the shock course through your system, you search Bob's eyes for any hint that he was lying. That it was the alcohol in his system making him say things he doesn’t mean, but all you find is truth and love. The same love you had seen in your dad's eyes any time he looked at your mom, the same love your sister had spoken about when she met Bob all those months ago. 

Bob takes your silence as a negative, the previous flame of confidence dwindling until it was nothing but embers burning in the pit of his stomach, suddenly he starts to stammer. Starts to say “You don’t-” going to tell you it was fine, you didn’t have to reciprocate his feelings that he just needed to tell you, but you’re quick to cut him off. 

“Bob! You place a hand to his chest, just over his heart and you can feel the beat of it against your palm and it feels like it's ready to break out of Bob’s ribs. Bob shuts his mouth tight, lips turning into a straight line, it had been a long time since you called him by his name, usually sticking with Bobby or even Robert when you wanted to tease him, keeping the name ‘Bob’ tucked away for when he was in trouble or you wanted his attention.

You step back a little, letting go of his hand in the process but keeping one on his chest, and throw your head back against the wall with a little huff of laughter. An action that leaves Bob speechless and confused, his mouth hanging open almost comically. Your quick to regain your composure and you tilt your head forward once again to look at him, tilting it to the side almost innocently. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh”

Bob shuts his mouth and gulps at the sincerity of your words, adam’s apple bobbing as he does. 

“I just… I have been dreaming about you saying those words for so long that it feels almost surreal to actually hear them” Bob swears his heart stops as he listens, you had been dreaming about this? The confusion must have been clear on his face, so you continue on. 

“I’ve been in love with you since our first days at Top Gun Bobby.” 

Bob stands like a gaping fish, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words to match your confession. After all he never thought he would get this far, thought you would run away at first mention of the ‘l’ word and yet here you are, loving him back. He’s drawn out of his thoughts once again by your voice.

“Bobby?” Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, and with how you have a hand on his chest with the other behind you to take your weight, you look the picture of innocence and sweetness and Bob can’t help but think about how he wants to absolutely ruin you, but that would be for another time. A new found sense of confidence, born from a compilation of your confession and the whiskey in his system,  previously not experienced by yourself and the other pilots left behind at the pool table drives him even closer to you. 

His hand reaches to grab at your waist, giving the flesh a gentle squeeze which forces a small whimper to fall from your lips, and the other ghosts against your jawline before settling on the corner of your neck. His chest presses against yours, he’s as close as he possibly could be and yet you want, no need him closer to you. 

Yeah sweetheart?” His voice is husky and just that little bit deeper than normal, the southern twang he tries so hard to hide slipping through and sending desire flooding through your bloodstream to the point you have to hold back the whimper that is desperately trying to make its way past your lips. 

“Kiss me…please,” your tone is pleading, almost begging and Bob swears it's the prettiest sound he’s ever heard and it sends desire fooding through his system. He wants to hear it again.

Instead of making you beg further, he tilts your chin up with the hand that was on your neck and slots his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. It's so soft and featherlight, leaving you desperate for more and after spending so long pining and wanting, you think you have the right to be greedy and demand more. So you remove your hands from behind your back and instead twist them around Bob’s shoulder, one hand tangling in the little baby hairs at the base of his neck as you push him in closer to you and deepen the kiss. Bob nearly moans at your eagerness.

The kiss is all tongue and clashing teeth, years of pent up frustration and wanting finally spilling over and showing itself, and Bob is gripping your waist so tightly you're sure there's gonna be some bruising tomorrow. 

You pull away from Bob, just barely with your lips still ghosting over his and your noses bumping into one another as your foreheads touch, with panting breath and lust blown eyes. Your hands travel down from the nape of his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders to lightly grab at the flesh of his upper arms that are exposed in his service uniform. 

“Take me home.” Your breathless from the kiss and adrenaline coursing through your system, with your words coming out barely above a whisper but Bob hears you and he moves his hand from your hip and neck to take your hand in his, using it to guide you through the sea of people now gathered at the Hard Deck. He stops at the bar and closes out both your tabs as you order an uber, not wanting to be driving even with the small amount of alcohol in your system. He guides you outside and pushes you against the exterior of Hard Deck, hands moving under your shirt to grab at the soft flesh of your waist as yours wrap around his neck and pull him down into another kiss and this time you don’t stop until the uber pulls up.

As the two of you make your way out of the Hard Deck, you miss the smiles from your fellow pilots (especially Phoenix) as they watch the two of you leave, giddy smiles on your faces and hands tangled with one another, happy to see you two finally getting together, and miss Hangman handing money out Phoenix and Rooster with a grim look on his face.

[withahappyrefrain]

I’m just saying, Bob + taking off his wife’s shoes for her after a long day 🌻💛

This man makes me so lovesick, it's ridiculous. Here's something that I hope you can indulge in, sweet @spidervee

"Darlin'?" Bob's sweet voice called out from the kitchen.

"It's just me, love!" You responded as you put your keys on the key rack. The soft fur of your cats, Pastrami and Lox, brushed against your ankles as they greeted you.

Normally you would kneel down to pet them, but that was pretty hard with your stomach now a days.

It felt like all you did was look over at the nearby chair and Bob was suddenly in the living room.

"Hey Darlin'," he whispered before pressing a kiss to your cheek. His long fingers traced over your face, his cobalt eyes taking you in.

"Long day?" Bob asked, taking your work bag off your shoulder.

"I'm thirty-two weeks along with twins. Everyday is a long day," you chuckled, though it didn't make the look of concern on your husband's face disappear.

"C'mon, let's get you to the couch." One of his hands was now on the small of your back, the other grasping your hand as he guided you to the living room.

"Robby, I need to-"

"Dinner's in the oven. You can tell me all about your day while we sit on the couch, 'kay?" You knew better than to argue with your husband. Bob wasn't necessarily stubborn, but he had his way of guiding you to what was the better choice. He never made you feel small or childlike, and always kept in mind what you were comfortable with.

He quickly fluffed the pillows on your couch before you laid down, Bob pulling your feet into his lap.

"What are you- Robby!" You tried to sound irritated, but how could you when your husband was taking off your shoes and looking at you with those baby blue eyes (that you desperately hoped your children would inherit)?

It was impossible, especially when he flashed you that sweet, albeit slightly crooked smile of his.

Bob shrugged, "What? You said it was a long day! I'm just trying to help my beautiful wife and mother of my children."

Normally you'd scold your husband. You were pregnant, and yes, carrying twins was more difficult than carrying just one baby. But that didn't mean Bob had to do everything for you, like taking off your shoes.

But then your husband's magical fingers began massaging your swollen feet, and how could you complain about that when it was the first time you felt relief all day?

You couldn't. So instead, you sunk into the couch as the tension left your body. It made it easier to recount today's events at work and how your "morning except not really because it can happen anytime of the day" sickness lead you to almost throwing up in the middle of a meeting.

Bob leaned forward, his head hovering over your growing stomach.

"Are you two givin' your mama a hard time? Thought we talked about that." Bob shook his head in mock disappointment. A smile adored his handsome features at the sound of your laughter.

He looked up, eyes bright, beaming, and just so full of love for you. It took your breath away.

Bob's smile quickly disappeared, worry taking its place upon seeing your eyes begin to well up with tears.

"Darlin', what's wrong? You okay?" His low and gentle voice made it worse.

"I want," you sniffled, "I want to kiss you but I can't get up."

Bob did everything he could not to chuckle at your adorable pout. Instead, he got up from the couch, moving to where your head laid against one of your many pillows.

He flashed a sweet smile before leaning his head down to press his lips against yours. A content hum left your lips as your arms wrapped themselves around your husband's neck, keeping him in place.

"Better?" Bob asked softly, his lips grazing over yours.

You nodded before capturing his lips again, his large hands gently cupping your face.

"Can we stay here for a little bit?" You asked softly.

Bob chuckled, "We can do whatever you want Mama Bear."

[vivwritesfics]

Bob Floyd Eats Pussy

Exactly what the title says, Bob Floyd Eats pussy

Lmao I couldn't not use this picture

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, oral (fem!receiving)

You look at Bob and what do you see? A quite man, a man that doesn't much bother to push back against those around him, even when he doesn't agree with something.

To everyone around him, Bob Floyd didn't fuck, in every sense of the word.

They didn't know Bob like she did. They didn't see the side of him that she did. Yes, she loved the quiet side that was reserved for everyone else. The Dagger Squad, his friends back home, his family.

But she also saw the side of Bob Floyd that fucked.

The side of Bob Floyd that had her on her knees. The side of Bob Floyd that knew how to have her legs shaking around his head. The side of Bob Floyd that was going to put a baby in her one day.

But this isn't about that. This isn't about how Bob longs to spend every waking moment buried in her, stuffing her full of him until she forgets everything but his name.

(Bob Floyd was a man obsessed with the idea of her being the mother of his children. He had this image in his head of him with a little girl on his lip, a slightly older boy holding his hand. She'd have a tiny girl in her arms with another baby on the way.)

No, this starts out on a bed, as most of these stories do. She was laying there, wearing her prettiest lingerie when Bob walked in. Laying on her stomach, legs in the air as she wore that pretty green set Bob was obsessed with.

Her chin rested in her hand and her eyes followed him as he stepped into the room. But that single step and he was done, eyes wide behind those blue glasses as he stared down at her.

"Hi, Bobby," she said, voice sultry sweet.

He choked out a cough. "Holy shit," he mumbled, the tent in his trousers becoming uncomfortable. "All this for me, sweetness?"

Her tongue poked out from between her teeth. "Of course, Bobby." She reached out and took his hand, pulling him closer.

As soon as Bob was in reach, she pulled at his khaki trousers. "Sweets, sweets," Bob said as he gently pried her hands away from him. He pulled her up so that she was sitting on her knees and kissed her.

Kissing Bob. There was nothing else like it. He held her close to him and took the lead, gently pulling her bottom lip between his own. His tongue explored her mouth as he pushed her back on the bed, laying her down.

"You look so pretty, all dressed up for me," he mumbled against her lips. "My turn to do something for you."

He squeezed her hands as he kissed down her body. "Fuck, Bobby," she hissed as he felt her through her bra. His lips moved down her stomach, kissed over the material of her panties.

"This where you want me, honey?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he snapped the waistband of her underwear against her hip.

Desperately, she nodded her head. God, she needed him. So fucking bad.

"I've got you," he said gently and pulled her pretty green underwear down her legs. As he moved he kissed her thighs, and down her legs, dropping the underwear on the floor beside the bed.

His large hands were splayed on her thighs as he led her legs open. "God, look at you," he mumbled as his thumb rubbed across her skin. "Gorgeous."

Bob kissed her thigh before he ran his tongue over her folds. A gasp left her lips, hands moving to cover her mouth. "Bobby," she whined out.

As soon as he heard just how muffled it was, Bob grabbed her hands and held them in her own, let her moans and cries ring out as he pushed his tongue through her folds and sucked on her clit.

Bob Floyd eats pussy. Bob Floyd eats pussy good. His nose bumped her clit as he worked her, her legs clenching around his head.

He knew her body so well, knew how to tell when she was getting close. The way she gripped him, she was right on the precipice, ready to fall over the edge.

He squeezed her hands as she came in his mouth, licking up everything he gave her. Bob kept going, pushing her past what she could handle until he was desperately pushing at his hair, ruining just how neat it was.

When Bob sat up, his glasses were completely fogged up. He took them off and wiped at them before he leaned in and kissed her.

As soon as his lips were on hers, she was holding his cheeks, keeping him close. Gently, she hummed. "Y'taste..."

"Like you," Bob said as he pulled away and ran his tongue over his lips. And then he was leaning her in, using one of his strong hands to keep her close as he used his other to free himself from his trousers.

"Fuck, honey," he hissed as he held her tight. "Gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my baby into you."

[sebsxphia]

ebb and flow.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: sex is sometimes confusing for you to navigate, but bob floyd makes it easy.

￫ word count: 3.1K.

￫ c/w: mentions of shit sex, brief smut, p in v, f!oral receiving, f!masturbation, sex toys, daddy kink, swearing, kissing and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: this is a love note from me, to bob, to myself, and is a very real experience of me and my sexuality. i hope you enjoy! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy sex, you loved sex. You loved the feeling of having your most intimate places and private thoughts brought to life, in a sheltered and cocooned environment. You longed for the closeness and the touch of bodies, slick with sweat. You craved desperately, that feeling of letting go as you were connected to another person, but that was the catch. You craved it, you longed for it, you loved it, but it didn’t always mean that it happened.

If someone was to ask you if you had a high sex drive, you would say, “oh, yeah! I love sex.” And it’s true. You loved sexuality and you would have sex when you could, but it wouldn’t answer the question. Because truthfully, you didn’t know if you had a high sex drive. There was always something or someone, confusing you and making you doubt your own drive.

You masturbated frequently, but it was always with the help of pornography. At least then you could skip to the good bits that would make you orgasm. You couldn’t really do that in real life.

There was a previous partner who, once they finished, panted down at you, “did you come?”

When you sheepishly admitted that you hadn’t, they would scoff as they rolled off you.

“Sorry, I guess. My last girlfriend always used to come so quick. Just not used to going as long as you.”

On a separate occasion, a girl lifted her face up from between your legs with an irritated frown pinched between her brows.

“Are you close to coming?”

Sure, she was hitting the right spots and yes, it might’ve taken you a little longer than most to orgasm, but you felt that hoping and longing feeling of coming fizzle out entirely.

You gave her a sore smile. “It’s alright, let’s stop.”

Your last partner you were with for nearly a year and he was the first person to make you come relativity easily. He knew the sweet spots that were dotted around your body and he listened to what you were asking for, but still came the little complaints. The little comments that made your ribs restrict around your lungs and call it off.

You had both reached your highs and your cunt was still twitching for more. You meekly asked him, “do you think you could make me come again?” And his response made you call it off entirely.

“Again? But you take so long.”

The ache dulled painfully between your thighs.

After that partner, you lost any sort of sex drive for almost a year. But life continued to have an ebb and flow, and it bought you to Bob Floyd.

Bob had you bent over the back of your sofa with your sundress hitched around your waist and his flight suit barely off. He allowed a gap just big enough in between his zipper to free his aching cock and piston his hips against your ass.

He came home later than he had planned, due to running drills for what seemed to go on forever, because someone (Jake), had decided it would be funny to make a passing joke at Cyclone. He was far too exhausted to shower and change on the base, and he was already running late coming home to you. He didn’t want to waste another second. He drove home with his bruised and battered body, covered in a thick and musky scent of sweat underneath his flight suit. He had his hands on your hips and his mouth on your lips the moment you greeted him. Bob’s rough grunts and forceful movements of his body against yours, let you know he needed you, and he needed you now.

With not a second to spare, he was already shuddering behind you and letting out an elongated groan of your name, dowsed in relief. You could feel his heavy cock twitch inside your cunt and you moved with him, aching for your own relief. Your stomach was doing somersaults every time he nudged against the sweet spot inside of you. Bob smoothed his hands along your spine and drew down the hem of your sundress. He gently lifted you up and turned you around to face him, tucking his softening cock back inside of his flight suit. He wore a lopsided smile as he cradled your jaw, pressing his lips to yours and thanking you.

“I needed that. Comin’ home to you dressed like this? Oh, I’m the luckiest, God damn pilot.”

You offered him a reassuring smile and fiddled with the collar of his flight suit, running your fingertips over the stitches and inseams. “Do you think, you could—”

“Oh my darlin’ wife,” you felt Bob’s cool engagement ring press on your hot cheek as he drew you to look up at him. You were yet to be married, but he wasted no time in calling you his wife already. “You don’t even have to ask. It would be my pleasure.”

His pleasure. His pleasure.

It made butterflies swarm in your stomach and your cheeks turn an even rosier shade of pink. Bob always reminded you that it was never an inconvenience to him. He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to make you come and he would happily stay in between your thighs for as long as you (or he), needed.

“C’ere, sweetheart.” You yelped out a squeal as Bob ran his forearms around your stomach and lifted you up to throw you over his shoulder with such little effort. You were a string of bubbling giggles as he carried you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He could’ve had you right here on the sofa, but he wanted to take you to your bedroom. He knew it was somewhere where you could feel safe being so exposed, feel vulnerable, let out your intimate thoughts.

Between hiccups of laughter, you would cry out, “Robert! Put me down!”

To which he would reply with a firm swat to your ass, and a defiant, “nope! My pretty lil’ bunny deserves princess treatment, do they not?”

He didn’t see how you bit down on your bottom lip, biting back your lovesick smile.

Your hips were hanging off the edge of your mattress, your frame bare and Bob’s hands holding your thighs open as his mouth was planted firmly on your pussy. He was devouring you like a four course meal. His tongue wouldn’t allow a single crease, or fold, to go amiss and he paid intricate detail to your clit. He would wrap his lips firmly around it and let his teeth sink gently in. The harsh suck of his mouth created shock waves, jolting through your abdomen and up your spine.

The pleasure he was providing you felt Heavenly, and you knew your sweet Bobby would never miss how your body reacted to his touch and register what he needed to do next. He was a WSO. Planning, co-ordination and pin point accuracy was his job. Yet, inside your mind, it was as though you were flicking through three hundred television channels at an alarming rate. You couldn’t find that one television show you wanted to watch. You couldn’t find Bob’s touch. And so, as your mind flicked through the channels, your thoughts tailed off with them.

“Fuck, should I of put the vegetables in the fridge? By the time we eat they might’ve gone funny. I must change the bedsheets tomorrow, it’s been… one, two… three weeks. God. I keep loosing track of these things. Maybe I should buy a planner. There was that really nice one you saw the other day. I wonder if Bob would like one too? We could have matching ones. Oh, don’t forget, message—”

“My love?”

The incessant channel flicking came to a stop and you were back to your Bobby in your bedroom. His face was dipped up from between your thighs and a glimmering sheen, mixed with his spit and your arousal, was coating his chin. His eyebrows were turned upwards in loving concern as he repeated his question.

“Are you okay?”

Your chest rose and fell with an exhausted groan. Your hands removed themselves from Bob’s now mused hair, and you ran them down your face. “I’m sorry, honey.” You muttered pathetically against your palms.

Bob now rose completely up from the floor of your bedroom and leant over your frame spread vulnerably on the bedsheets (that you urgently needed to change). He rested one toned forearm onto the mattress to consume your body against his. His other hand let his slender fingers intertwine with the loose strands of your hair that fell against your forehead.

“No, no, my darlin’,” Bob was pleading with you. His tone sounded desperate as he tried to reassure you, but his words were firm. After your multiple confessions of previous partners and their, choice of words, he took the weight of you finding pleasure with him high and mighty on his shoulders. He would never let you fall without him there to catch you gently in his undying arms.

“Please, don’t ever apologise. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m stayin’ right here with you ‘till I hear those pretty noises you make.” His lips curved into a troublesome smirk at the end. He slid his resting forearm under your back to lift you up off the mattress, and steadily sat you upright incase the blood had all but flowed from your head.

“Shall we move ourselves?” He suggested and you agreed, but before you could speak your agreement, he was already way ahead of you and pulling out the wicker chair from the corner of your room and situating it in-front of your long standing mirror.

“I’ve got an idea, one that I know, you’ll like.” The same troublesome smirk was etched onto his face as he guided you over to the chair. “Do you want me to get you one of your toys?”

You hummed in delightful agreement. “Please, get the black one.”

Bob retrieved the slick black vibrator from the bottom drawer of your dresser and sat himself on the chair. He held onto your waist as he maneuvered you to sit on his lap. His broad hands ran along the underside of your thighs to pick them up gingerly, and rest them over the arms of the chair. His forearm, with his muscles bulging and veins protruding, was locked tightly around your torso to keep you firmly pressed up against his bare chest. His other hand that was holding the sleek vibrator, came down to rest haphazardly on your thigh.

You were fully exposed to yourself, Bob and your mirror. With his firm, but gentle hold on your body, you had no real wriggle room and you were to take whatever sensation he was about to provide you. That made your cunt twitch. Perhaps the flicking through the television channels was about to come to a stop. You’d found your Bobby and his pleasurable touch.

Your head was resting on his shoulder and you felt his plush cheek rub against your temple, feeling his baby hairs catch on yours. And then his lips were warm against your ear. A tickling sensation prickling down your earlobe and along your neck as he spoke.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“Good girl.”

There was a quiet snicker from Bob in your ear as your breath hitched at his words. With his arm wrapped around you, he could feel every intricate detail and twitch of your frame against his. He pressed his thumb down on the top of the vibrator and it whirred to life. A steady and low buzz hummed throughout your bedroom. He placed the tip to your thigh and you involuntarily twitched.

“‘member, I’m stayin’ here with you. I ain’t leavin’ you, my darling.” You locked eyes with him through the reflection of your mirror and you nodded against his shoulder, his movements along your thigh continuing.

“Keep your eyes focused, right here, baby.” His own gaze returned to where his hand was trialing with the vibrations further down your thigh and into the apex of your cunt. With the lightest of touches he pressed the tip to your swollen clit and a sudden gasp escaped your throat without even registering it. He pressed the tip down for five seconds or so, before removing it and letting your pussy become a customized to the feeling.

He repeated this motion several times, as he listened intently to how your little moans and gasps became more frequent. Alongside that, his gaze never left your reflection. He let your own eyes flutter open and shut as your body reeled with the sensations, but he was there to intimately gage what you needed next. He dragged the vibrating tip down through your folds and glided along the other, not so sensitive, but still incredibly important, areas of pleasure. He would draw the vibrator back upwards and let it catch on your clit before pinpointing it firmly on the swollen bundle. Each time he repeated this motion, your body withered continuously under his grasp. You let your skull lull back completely onto his shoulder and you weren’t holding back any longer on your moans.

“Feels s’ good, Bobby.” You croaked out with a moan.

He parted his fixated gaze from your squirming frame for only a moment, to allow his lips to fall underneath your earlobe. He nimbly let his teeth graze over your tender flesh and tug at it, before his tongue would soothe over the spot.

“I know, pretty darlin’, I know.” Bob cooed quietly into your ear. A shudder was jolted down your spine and tickled at your nerve endings. His drawl was getting huskier in your ear and your fingertips were digging so hard into his forearm, you were sure they would leave little crescent marks from your nails.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, Bunny. Do you wanna take a look? Do you wanna see how Daddy is making my pretty little clit jump?”

Your eyes fluttered open to peer at the sight before you. Your hips jolted forward as he pressed the vibrator with pin point accuracy on where you needed it most.

“Robert!” You whined out. “Fuckfuckfuck…”

“Is that it, m’love? Is that the spot?” You pursed your lips together and nodded feverishly. You found his gaze again in the mirror and his cock twitched beneath you at the sight of your pleading eyes, with a glaze of tears brimming in your eyes. He gently pushed his cheek against your temple again to motion at you.

“C’mon, Bunny. Don’t hold back. Let those pretty little sounds out. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

He pressed the vibrator on the same sweet spot and let your hips buck upwards to chase the feeling. Your lips parted and a desperate cry tore from your throat. Your voice wobbled as you begged him.

“Please, please, please. Oh God, Daddy! Don’t fuckin’ stop, right there, ‘lease…” You trailed off with pleas as your mind zoned in on the one television channel that was about to bring you crashing off the edge.

Bob watched you with intent through the reflection of the mirror. His cock was shamelessly getting harder underneath you. Right now, in this very moment, in this captured time within the universe, he wanted nothing more than to watch you fall apart in his lap. It was his pleasure as much as it was yours.

“Oh that’s it,” His voice was guiding you through it, coaxing you closer to the edge that you would inevitably fall off. “Good girl. Daddy’s gon’ stay right here, keep toyin’ with my clit.”

“I’m gon’ come, Bobby! Oh God, I’m gonna—” Your jaw went slack and a silent, wordless cry was all that tore from your throat. You were unable to form anything. Not a single thought or word as pleasure tore through you.

“Go on, my baby. Come for me.” Bob was there to take control of your mercy towards him. As you felt the warm burst of your orgasm strike through your clit and up your abdomen, you followed with a broken whine. Your hips were uncontrollably bucking and squirming against Bob’s grip and against the vibrator, that he kept nestled deep within your soaked folds. Your hands reached upwards and behind to grip tightly onto his neck, finding anything to keep yourself stable against the powerful release that was currently coursing through your veins.

“That’s it, Bunny. Keep goin’ for me, you’re doin’ so, so good. Such a good girl f’ me.”

Your thighs were now thrashing against the wicker and Bob made a mental note to soothe them later with cream. He let you move against him with free will as broken sobs left your lips. He continually moved the vibrator as you flowed through your orgasm, letting you soak up every inch of pleasure that he was providing you. He knew how badly you needed this release, and how his patience towards you was something that you treasured with every squirm of your body against his.

He could feel the tensing of your muscles soothe and slow down with each second that passed. Eventually, he gently trailed the vibrator off your twitching clit and back along your thigh, to continue the dying sensation for just that little bit longer. He pressed down the button on top of the vibrator and the humming sound came to a stop. All that could be heard was your pants of hot air bouncing off the bedroom walls. He let the vibrator fall to the floor so he could bring his hand up to smooth over your flesh. He gently ran his fingertips through your folds and let you twitch a little more in his lap, as he collected your arousal. It was like nectar to Bob. There was no sweeter sensation to him than feeling you pool on his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, Bunny?” He splayed out his hand to cup your pussy and gently squeeze it. It was a comforting warmth under his touch and it pulsated against his calloused palm on its own accord.

You let your hands drop from his neck and rest on his forearms, feeling out the familiar shape of your lover. “Y— yes. I’m your good girl, Daddy.” Your voice was weak, but Bob hummed quietly in your ear as he heard you.

“T— thank you, Bobby.” When you spoke again, he shushed you as to reassure and console you. His fingers were tracing repeated patterns over your thighs.

“You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I do this all for you, ‘cause I love you s’ deeply.” He nuzzled his nose against your frightfully warm cheek and let you contentedly bathe in the swirling feeling of the afterglow.

It was a feeling that you had so rarely experienced before, but Bob was there to always make it feel as though you were swimming in a lake made out of the moon and stars.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloyds @bradshawsbitch @peachystenbrough @lewmagoo @sugarcoated-lame @sushiwriterhere

[nurse-floyd]

Build a Bear

A shopping trip turns into an impromptu visit to Build a Bear for Bob and Bun.

Bob and Bun

Massive thank you to @vivwritesfics for letting me borrow Bob and Bun! 🥰

She had never been to Build-A-Bear. It was silly; she was a grown woman, but growing up, she had no one to take her. She saw the adverts on TV, and she had friends who had them, with all the outfits and accessories, but her father never took her. He never had the time.

So one day, when she was passing the store with Bob in tow, she couldn’t help but drag him inside. She only intended to get a new outfit and maybe some new lingerie, but the brightly colored store was just too tempting.

She ran to the store, practically dragging Bob to the door, but paused before she entered. “Can we? Please? Can we get bears?”

He could hardly say no to her; in fact, he rarely did. She deserved the world, and Bob would give it to her over and over if it meant he got to see her smile like that. Yeah, she could kill a man with no regrets; she was a part of the most dangerous organization in the world, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still like her teddy bears.

He adored the way she looked, her eyes wide as she looked up and down the bins of deflated bears and creatures waiting to be stuffed. The brightly colored axolotl caught her eye as she immediately grabbed one and held the creature's head between her hands. “This one!”

Bob laughed; of course, she’d choose that one. He looked up and down the bins himself. He was going to go for a plain bear, but a Star Wars logo caught his eye. He looked through the bin and found a Darth Vader bear. That was definitely the one.

Bun led him over to the stuffing station where a worker was sitting at the giant machine churning fluff, ready to stuff their bears with.

“Are you all finished picking out your bears?” she asked.

Bun nodded and handed over her bear first, excited to finally go through the whole process of making her bear.

“Okay, and who is this special bear for?” the worker asked.

She looked shyly, but with encouragement from Bob, she spoke up, “It’s for me.”

“Okay, so if you want to put your foot on the pedal, I’ll fill the bear up and tell you when to stop. Do you want them soft and cuddly or firmer?”

She thought for a moment before she spoke again, “In between.”

“Sure thing, I can make them the perfect balance!”

Bun stepped on the pedal and watched as her teddy came to life. Bob watched as her eyes lit up and she looked up at him, excitement in her eyes as a little happy giggle escaped her lips.

“Okay, step off the pedal for me and have a feel. Is that okay?”

She cuddled the bear to her chest and nodded, “He’s perfect!”

The worker set the bear aside and took Bob’s bear next. “Same for you; do you want it firmer or soft and cuddly?”

Bob opted for a firmer bear. He stepped on the pedal and watched as his bear was stuffed. He had to admit, it was a cool concept, and if they ever had kids one day, he’d love to take their child and watch the same excitement fill their eyes as they made bears together as a family.

With both the bears stuffed, the worker spoke up again, “Okay, so now we need to bring the bear to life. I need both of you to choose one of those two little hearts, and we’re going to make a big wish.”

With both of their hearts selected, they held them in their hands and waited for the next instruction.

“Okay, so we’re going to rub it on our heads so our bear is always thinking about our wish.”

The look Bun flashed Bob had him joining in the wish ceremony with no arguments. She smiled as they both rubbed the small fabric heart on their foreheads.

“Then we’re going to tap the heart to make it start beating and bring our bear to life!”

Again, the pair of them followed the directions, holding the heart in their palms and tapping it with their fingers.

“We’re going to hold it to our hearts so it’s always full of love.”

They both did as they were instructed and held the hearts to their chests.

“Then we’re going to rub it on our arms for all the cuddles because these bears give the best cuddles.”

Bun rubbed the fabric heart on her arms a few extra times; she needed her bear extra cuddly.

“Last but not least, I need you to hold it tight in your hand and make that big wish!”

Bob was actually getting into it when it came time to make his own wish, not that he needed much more. He had Bun, a decent job that paid extremely well, and life was pretty good for the pair of them. Still, he scrunched his eyes shut and made his wish in his mind as Bun did the same. It must have been a big wish because when Bob opened his eyes, hers were still scrunched shut, her tongue poking out with concentration.

With both of their wishes made, they stuffed the hearts into the bears and watched as the worker sewed them up.

“What did you wish for, Bun?”

She looked at him with a shocked look on her face. “Do you not know how wishes work, Floyd? If I tell you, it won’t come true!”

With both of their bears complete and handed back to them, Bun immediately clutched hers to her chest.

Bob was so in love with this woman.

“Okay, now you can go and pick out the accessories for your bears and dress them over there,” the worker let them know before she began the whole spiel again with the woman and her child who were behind Bob and Bun in line.

Bob opted to keep it classic for his bear, it was already decorated enough with the embroidered designs and sewn in cape, he did however buy a tiny red lightsaber for it. Bun, however, had so many options to choose from. Did she get the tutu and tiara? Did she get the colorful onesie? She opted for the onesie, knowing it would be more comfortable to cuddle.

The last step after dressing their bears before checking out was the birth certificate. Bob already had a name planned out. He typed out the name ‘Ani.’ He turned to Bun to see what name she’d chosen, hoping she’d kept it clean, and he saw the name ‘El Diablo’ typed on the screen. He wasn’t sure devil was a fitting name for a bright pink axolotl wearing a big smile, but he supposed it was fitting for his girl.

With their bears dressed and named, Bob led them over to the counter to pay. Bun could have opted to put her teddy in a box to make it easier to carry, but of course, she didn’t. She clutched El Diablo to her chest, and the smile that she wore on her face as she left the store was something Bob could stare at all day and never grow tired of.

[peachesandcreames]

My Big Three 😍🔥🥵

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!

It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made. 

“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.” 

All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.

“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.

“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.

“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks. 

“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.” 

Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it. 

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123

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