#Robert bob floyd
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k9effect · 2 days ago
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[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags highly appreciated]
Some nsfw floydsinshaw art, censored for tumblr purposes. You can find the FULL, UNCENSORED piece either on TWITTER HERE or on BLUESKY HERE, (18+ only please)
Context is that Bob was the only one who bahaved, and he actually asked to be tied up, so he got to feel all secure in the ropes and laid back on pillows and watch while Bradley got denied in a cock cage for misbehaving and Jake got spanked and punished for bratting and back talking his doms
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auroralightsthesky · 2 days ago
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He's just a lil baby!!!!!! (lol).
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new (old) till via scott garfield
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peachesandcreames · 3 days ago
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He Just Flipped the Switch 🥵🔥
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mynameismckenziemae · 2 days ago
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Hi! So this isn't necessarily NSFW. But what do you think the flyboys (Jake, Bradley, Bob) would be like as husbands and dads?
I agree with what you said earlier about Jake LOVING your tits when you're pregnant and how they change and get bigger.
I feel like Bradley loves your bump and it almost creates a breeding kink where he wants to get you pregnant again so he can see your round belly.
I'm not sure what to think about Bob. I feel like he will be fully supportive of you. Rubbing your feet and taking care of you while you're pregnant and while you're postpartum?
What are your thoughts? Love these little asks that you and other anons do so thought I'd send one in!
I love getting asks, especially like these. I’m glad you like them too!
I see Bob having a breeding kink. Watching your belly grow so round and full from him makes him feral. He rubs your lower back every night in bed after being you a bowl of whatever you’re craving. Originally the two of you wanted to wait at least 2 years between kids but when you see how good of a daddy he is? It’s your turn to be feral. Both of you are at fault when you end up with 4 kids under 4.
Bradley’s both excited and terrified when you show him the positive test. He’s always wanted a family of his own, but is nervous about being a dad since he grew up without one. So he jumps in with both feet. He reads “What to Expect When You're Expecting” before your first OB appointment is scheduled, he signs up for Lamaze class, he reads every car seat review to make sure his sweet baby is safe. He’s always been handsy but once your body starts to change, he can’t keep his hands off you. He loves your growing belly and fuller breasts and is downright obsessed with your thicker hips and booty. He’s always changing positions during sex so he can see every part of your growing body. As much as he wanted to get you pregnant again after your first, he forced himself to wait the recommended 18-24 months. He’s a girl-dad too, and couldn’t be happier with your mini-mes.
Jake starts calling you “mama” in that Texas twang of his early on, and it makes you melt every time. Like you/I said, he’s obsessed with the way pregnancy changes your breasts; how sensitive they get, the way they grow, the way your nipples darken. He’s just as surprised as you when he cums in his pants when he gets an unexpected taste of breast milk in your third trimester and he kickstarts your labor a few weeks later by doing the same thing. It doesn’t get better after your son comes either and Jake nearly cries when you tell him you’re ready to wean. He ends up having all boys; a little wild and a lot sweet, especially to their mama.
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enthyrea · 3 months ago
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dagger version of this post!! olympic au!!🥇
tried to match their characters/body types to appropriate sports <33
rooster as a fencer, hangman as an equestrian, coyote and hondo as track&field (sprinter and shot put), phoenix and bob as shooters, fanboy as a skateboarder, and payback as a judoka!
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mxrcusflint · 2 months ago
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daggers (this is how the movie went, right?)
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promisingyounglady · 8 months ago
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four eyes. | BF x Reader
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PAIRINGS: Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS: asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely.
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
WARNINGS: ahem, SMUT, established relationship, profanity, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, facial, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, begging, slightly sub!reader, praise, aftercare and such sweet affection from bobby, not proofread and mdni!!, reader is a minx, brief mention of term ‘slut’, size kink, awkward sweetheart w a big dick!bob,
A/N: this is the most filthiest shit I’ve ever written and if you like this ur crazy… *reblogs, comments and likes the post*
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“What are you up to?” he drawls, watching carefully as you crawl over his naked midriff and through the sea of bedsheets. Post-sex endorphins were through the roof right now for Bob, a wave of happy tiredness sweeping over the pilot.
You huff, hand outstretched as you reach for Bob's glasses perched on the bedside table.
“I wanna try these on” you say to him, balancing yourself as you try to grab the frames. Bob chuckles, a hand coming to rub your ass lovingly.
You bit your lip to fight the feeling of a grin spreading on your face, the feeling of Bob's soft hands tickling you as you playfully pushed him away, all the while he simply beams at you.
The hand supporting yourself on his hard chest slips, causing you to collapse on top of your boyfriend, your naked breasts brushing over his cock and sending a shiver down his spine.
A firm hand comes to still yourself. “Careful” he says softly, hands warm.
Bob looks over, grabbing the glasses just as you were about to pick them up, and holding them out of your reach. You protest, trying to get ahold of the frames you loved so much. Bob puts them on, allowing himself to properly see his girl.
“You don’t wanna wear these, they don’t look good on anyone. Including me.” he mumbles, adjusting you on top of him.
But you're quick to swipe them off his face, ignoring Bob's laughs when you put the glasses on yourself and straddle his hips. “I like them, they’re cute,” you tell him.
“Well what d’ya know?” Bob utters softly to himself when he sees you, gazing up at his girl wearing the steel rimmed aviators and looking absolutely breathtaking.
“Hi there, four eyes” he chuckles, finding it odd saying a phrase he’s been nicknamed all his childhood. Hell, even Seresin has no problem calling him that to this day.
Bob smiles, strong but soft hands coming to rest on your hips as you sat dangerously close to where his happy trail leads to. Your brows furrowed as you viewed the world through his lenses.
“Jesus, Bob, you really are blind!” You uttered, looking down at the blurry man seated against the bedpost.
Bob’s become busy at the moment, pressing pecks to your hardended nipples. He simply nods, pretending he’s listening.
“You should go to the eye doctor, honey”
Bob peaks through, giving you a look. “That’s where I got them”
“Hm.”
The room is silent, a soft glow of the afternoon sunlight peeking through the white shutters. You feel the corners of Bob’s lips curling into a smile against your skin, a silent worship to your body.
“You’re so soft.” he murmurs.
“Honey,” you call to your boyfriend.
“Hm?” Bob replies absentmindedly, still brushing his face along your chest, hugging you closer.
You tug on his brown locks, pulling his head from your body and looking down at him.
“I wanna try something.” you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes mixed with a bottle of excitement. You quickly press a kiss to his lips.
Bob watches as you pull from his grasp, lips forming a small frown from the loss of contact as you shuffled down the bed so you were now kneeling on the floor by the edge.
Bob looks over at you quizzically, wondering what you were up to before you beckon towards him, ushering him to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Come sit, Robert” you directed, calling him by his birth name to get his attention.
His soft cock limps near his thighs as he adjusts himself, sitting before you in all his naked glory, hair tousled by your hands and a pink blush ghosting his cheeks. His hand comes up to play with your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. You look up in seriousness and confess.
“I want you to cum on these glasses”
Bob stops all motion, hand still tucked behind your ear. The room falls silent.
“What?”
You ignore the bafflement of your crimson cheeked boyfriend, bending down to lick a long stripe up his veiny shaft. A loud moan and harsh tug against your scalp brings you to take him further, almost triggering your gag reflexes. It all happens so fast. Bob mutters incoherently from the sudden gesture, both of you going slightly insane when your nose presses against his pubic bone as tears form near your eyes.
“Baby, hold on a moment, Jesus fuck!”
You’re worried you’re going to make a mess on the floor from the way your slick almost drips from your pussy.
You’ve been thinking of this fantasy for a while if you were to be honest. Bob pulls you back, gasping for air as a proud feeling settles in your chest. It’s not everyday you hear Bob cuss like that.
He’s panting hard, watching as a bit of saliva is smeared on your lips, eyes glossy. Bob sighs in exasperation as you decide to stroke his cock with your hands.
“You gotta let me speak-“
“Please, Bobby” you beg, pressing kisses to the pink tip and relishing in the way you feel him harden in your hand. A loud groan escapes Bob's throat, feeling sensitive despite having had sex the whole afternoon with you.
“I want you to cum while I have your glasses on” you told him, kitten licks getting the best of your boyfriend. “Like in those pornos” you mumble softly, your shy giggles driving Bob insane.
“Nobody says pornos anymore” he mumbles telling you, swallowing hard when you tug on his cock tighter for not responding.
Bob clears his throat. “You, um, want me to give you a facial?” He asks softly, holding onto your hand that's stroking his cock.
You nod eagerly.
“A-Are you sure?” He says, worried that taking him like this is gonna wear you out. In all honesty, the boy can’t help but grow hard at the thought of cumming all over your innocent face, big eyes covered by his glasses milked by his seed.
You nod, excitement and horniness flowing through your body.
“Please, honey, I want you to see me painted” you sighed, thumb brushing over the thick tip, smearing precum over the slit.
Bob thinks he’s gonna cum just from this angle, but he needs you so badly he tries to regain composure. He bends down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips and letting your face be held in his soft touch. “Let me know if it's too much baby” he addresses in concern, the tears on your cheeks worrying him.
You sniffle, nodding your head to assure him. “Want you so bad, Bobby, let me suck you”
Your last few words are incoherent from the way you let Bob’s big cock stuff your throat, making you gag but desperately hold on. Bob lets go, both hands coming to balance himself on the edge, one gripping the bed sheets.
The sensation is fucking marvellous. You feel so full, loving the way the stretch of your mouth and untouched ache of your pussy turn you cockdrunk on Bob Floyd’s dick.
You look up, desperate to see how he's taking you, wanting to see the expression of him getting the daylights sucked out of him.
Lieutenant Bob ruts his hips pathetically, trying so hard not to make a mess of your mouth and hurt you. His head is pulled back, groans falling from his soft lips as he praises you so good.
“That’s it baby, doing so well for me” he sighs, now two large hands coming to push you a little further, a groan falling from his lips as you take him fully now.
“God, I love you!” he cries out loud, an instinctive response coming from your boyfriend as he caresses your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. You smile, aviator lenses reflecting the light as your lips are wrapped securely around his dick.
”So pretty, such a pretty girl” he says under his breath, admiring the way your tits bounce along with every stroke on his cock. You gasp, pulling away as you let your fist do the rest.
“I love you too, Bobby” you gasped, looking up to find Bob staring at you intensely, with such a fierce gaze of love, sensuality, and pure awe.
”H-How,” he begins, starting to feel a familiar feeling settle inside him. “How did I get so lucky with you?” He admits, wanting nothing more but to see his cum painting his glasses you’re wearing. He thinks he might just let you have them. Being able to see is overrated anyways.
“I think I’m gonna cum, baby” he lets out, watching as your eyes get eager, adjusting your sore knees so you can get the perfect angle.
“Please baby, give it to me” you begged, pussy so sensitive you have to make sure you hold yourself up enough so the cold wooden floors don’t brush against your folds.
Watching you rub his dick like that, mouth open and face ready is an image Bob will have ingrained in his mind forever, a hot spurt of milky liquid shooting onto your lips as Bob finally gives you what you wanted.
Incoherent mumbles fill the sweaty bedroom, letting one hand cup his balls as the other makes sure to smear the warm fluid all over your lips, glasses starting to get foggy.
“Fucking hell” Bob cries out, spilling your name from his lips like a sacred mantra.
You hum, a wave of both happiness and satisfaction washing over you as you sit in front of Bob’s glory.
You let the man come down from his high, tasting salt and your boyfriend in your mouth. Before you can even clean yourself up, Bob is ripping off the dirtied glasses framing your face, and grabbing you towards him for a passionate kiss. The action makes you dizzy, your red, sore knees almost buckling under.
It’s only a while after when he pulls away, grabbing for a box of tissues near the nightstand and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry for the mess” he replies shyly, the image of this tall, naked, handsome, and yet totally awkward giant taking care of you making it all worthwhile.
“It’s okay” you reply, voice hoarse. You couldn’t help but feel happy, even if you didn’t cum (Bob would see to it later of course).
You feel him use the tissues to wipe your chin, face, and tits, or really, what was leftover after you sucked it all up like a slut.
“You’re crazy sometimes, you know that?” Bob mumbles, shaking his head as he smiles at you, his soft touch so rewarding.
You laugh, latching your arms around his neck and letting him hoist you up so easily. His semi-hard cock limps against your stomach, both of you standing up and lips pressing together in another soft kiss.
”Thank you for the most mind blowing head of my life.” He jokes.
”Thanks for the facial” you gleam, sucking your fingers with a pop that makes Bob weak, falling back down on the mattress and taking you with him so you’re straddling him again.
Bob reaches for the glasses, getting a tissue so he could wipe them before an idea pops in your head and you stop him.
You put on the glasses again. He looks up.
“Bobby, where’s the Polaroid camera?”
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dearsnow · 4 months ago
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12:29 AM
- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)
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word count: 1,502
a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.
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It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.
Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”
“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”
Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.
Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”
You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.
Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”
With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.
He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.
“Wife.”
You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”
“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.
You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”
His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.
“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.
“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.
“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”
He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”
A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”
His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”
“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”
“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.
You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.
You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.
He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”
You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.
“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.
“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.
“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.
When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.
“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.
He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.
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Taglist: @seitmai
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sebsxphia · 5 months ago
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shopping lists.
robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.
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→ 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! 💌
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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.
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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
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lieutenantfloyd · 6 months ago
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Top Gun: Maverick as chaotic romantic texts
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callsign-bobsgirl · 2 months ago
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Baby On Board
Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!Reader Summary: There seems to be a misunderstanding between you and the Dagger Squad about your husband's callsign. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rusty writing and one clumsy allusion to smut. Otherwise none.
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When the gang found out that Bob could actually talk to women, they were shocked.
When the gang found out that Bob had been talking to, coming home to, and loving on the same woman for the past ten years, they were somehow less shocked.
What shocked Bob — although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have — is just how adamantly everyone insisted on getting to meet the Mrs. Bob Floyd. The mystery that the quiet WSO kept under wraps. This Friday at the Hard Deck, seven o’clock.
Which is what he groaned into your neck early that afternoon after Mav had sent everyone home early as a reward. The two of you lazed about on top of the covers, the box of clothes half unpacked and forgotten at the foot of the bed the minute Bob walked through the bedroom door.
“I was hoping to keep you to myself for just a little longer,” your husband whined; turned humming as you ran your hand through his hair.
“I’m more hurt you didn’t immediately tell them about your hot wife in Lemoore,” you muse, “I mean what if I came down to surprise you, hmm? What if I popped down to the Top Deck before we permanently moved down huh? And that … Flameman or whatever tried to hit on me because he didn’t have it burned into his skull that I’m the lovely Mrs. Floyd hmm? What then?”
Groaning, Bob lifted himself to his elbows, pressing kisses to your jaw, “When we meet Hangman at the Hard Deck, he’s probably gonna hit on you anyways, if nothing else than to try and get a rise out of me.”
“Ah yes, you and your famous impulsive temper,” you tease.
Sliding a hand from Bob’s torso up to his shoulder, you quickly flip him over so you’re on top. Grinning cheekily you lean back on your haunches, getting to work on Bob’s belt while he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for his turn to strip you of the offending cloth.
“I’ll talk to my sister, see if she can’t reschedule some stuff for Friday,” you say, reaching your hand down your husband's briefs and getting a pleased hum in response.
When the two of you walked into the Hard Deck, you for the first time, you let Bob lead you through the crowds of people and he pointed out the different ranks of aviators, the obvious gaggles of tag chasers, and the old-timers who were loyal to the bar. You did your best to listen but you were busy smoothing down the sundress Bob loved so much and it was really loud in here.
“Stop worrying,” Bob leaned down to say in your ear, “You can run miles around these guys.” The WSO paused for a second, “Maybe not … physically, but in every other way.”
You laugh as you slap the back of your hand against his chest, “will Phoenix be here at least?”
“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”
“Uh-huh”
“See the woman who just jabbed him with the pool stick?”
“Yeah?”
“Phoenix.”
The two of you approach the pool table everyone is crowded around but before you can announce yourself, a boyish-looking man with amber skin whistles and waves across the pool table, bringing everyone’s attention with him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”
Everyone clamoured to meet the new arrivals, but you didn’t miss how one of them — a blond, cocky-looking son of a bitch with a toothpick dangling from his lip — held back, only to eventually push his way past an ‘LT. Fitch’. 
“Well Darlin’, it sure is nice to finally meet you,” his grin sure does take over his face, huh, “callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake,” he says with a wink.
You share a look with Bob — who had just returned from the bar with your cocktail and his peanuts — and yeah, Hangman was exactly as you imagined him.
Saying a quick thanks to your husband and making sure to drag your fingers across Bob’s as you take the glass from him, you turn back to the other blond who won’t stop with the cocksure smirk. If Bob hadn’t warned you that Jake, for all that he was like … well this, was harmless and wouldn’t actually try anything; you’d be throwing the drink in his face.
But you also figured the alcohol would do better in you than on him.
Later in the evening, after everyone had had a few drinks and you’d loosened up, Topman sauntered back over to your stool where you were admiring your husband bent over the pool table.
“I gotta admit, I am mystified at how our Baby on Board managed to snag you,” the pilot kept going, finally getting a chuckle out of you.
‘Cause yeah, ‘Baby On Board’, that was funny you’d give Bagman that one. You didn’t get why it made the rest of the squadron look at you weird though.
“What?” you ask. 
You also couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling when Rooster swatted the back of Hangman’s head, but Phoenix is the one who elbows herself up to Hangman, going between glaring at him and raising her eyebrow at you.
“You … you do get what Bagman’s saying about Bob here, right?”
You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.
“That Bob is … you know, a baby?” she explains.
Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”
And boy if that didn’t get the guys hooting and hollering, as your husband’s face turns bright pink.
Did these guys not get it? There’s a reason your Robby was one of the only two squadron members who’d even made it down the aisle. The way his hair was never out of place in uniform, how it bounced when he was out of it, and how soft it felt between your fingers. Those blue eyes that demanded your attention and turned you into a puddle when they darkened. Did his squad think you could let him do more than an hour of yard work in the summer, chest all sweaty and glistening before you beckoned him back into the privacy of the house? Or even worse, when he danced from the kitchen to the living room, carrying mugs of hot chocolate, on Christmas in those ‘family matching’ pyjamas.
‘Bob is a baby’ for the best of the best in the navy, these people were fools.
“I don’t get what the big fuss is,” you tell the aviators, “honestly, with every year that passes I half expect a kid to reach out from wherever he’s been deployed over the years.” Which gets another round of laughter out of your husband’s colleagues.
Robby knew you knew how insanely in love with him you were and how much you trusted him, and you knew how deep his devotion to you was — which is why instead of defending himself he just hid his red face in your hair. Already hearing the jokes he’ll face on base next month. You bringing a hand up to clumsily yet comfortingly cup his jaw helped though.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Payback says sincerely, “it's just that the Bob we know, the Bob we work with … it's kinda hard to see the Bob you know in him.”
And that’s when you realize. If Robby hadn’t told his squadron anything about you, then he definitely hasn’t said anything about …
“No I get it, my Robby can be on the quieter side, and probably downplays his moves at work” You hear Robby groan in your ear, knowing exactly what you’re about to reveal; and you gear yourself to revel in the shock you’re about to create. 
“But he did get three kids out of me.”  
The yelps of surprise and demands of proof had everyone in the bar glancing over at the pool table, but you and Bob just laughed at them as he handed over his wallet: showing off the five of you in the small ID window.
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A/N: this is 100% from my own misunderstanding of Hangman's joke the first few times I watched the TGM, I truly thought he was implying Bob must always have a baby on the way because look at him??? Anyways, first time posting in the fandom. Come on over and say hi! And ... idk, live laugh love long and prosper.
also s/o to @sailor-aviator for helping my brain when it wasn't braining ♡
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frost-queen · 5 months ago
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Dogfights (Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)
Requested by: anon , Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex–awesome–22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers  , @merlieve   , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly  ,@denkisclown , @wildieflower  ,@meyocoko    , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl  , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07   , @melsunshine  @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury ,@imagines-by-her,@evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303   ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m
Summary: Reader hates Hangman cause he's an asshole. Hangman can't stop teasing you about it. When he sees you flirt with another he jumps in, acting all jealous and possesive. Dragging you to a secluded area, he asks just how much you hate him before kissing you. Shocking your crew when you start dating.
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Your F16 shot past Phoenix and Bob one’s. Breathing loud in the mask as you turned the handle. Your F16 doing a turn, hanging vertical up in the air. – “Wow slow down there Y/n.” – Phoenix called out over the intercom. – “Back.” – Bob shouted loud seeing another F16 behind him. Phoenix pulled up as the F16 went nose up. She let it tip till it faced forwards once more. Confused she looked at the F16 that had simply flew forwards.
Ignoring them in the dogfight. – “What are you doing?” – Phoenix whispered. You groaned loud making your F16 twirl in the air. The F16 on your tail, not easy to loose. – “Cut it out Bagman!” – you shouted over the intercom. You heard him chuckle. – “I’m coming for you.” – he laughed out. He sped up ignoring Coyote’s F16 that he could’ve easily played out of the game. 
Turning and tumbling, you tried to get your F16 behind Hangman’s. – “Not interested in more snacks?” – Phoenix teased over the intercom. Hangman only seemed to have eyes for you. Making it his goal to cut you out of the game. Everything else not caring for. – “Nope, just the big meal.” – he replied over the intercom with a smile.
He was tailing you. Following your F16’s movement smoothly. Narrowing his eyes a bit, he flipped the protecter up. Giving him a clear to press the button. The scanner on his screen tracking you mindlessly till it found a lock on you. –“Gotcha.” – he said pressing the button. There were some beeps as he cheered loud. – “You’re out of the game Scout.” – he shouted loud in victory.
You turned round to fly beside him. Hangman saluted you as you held your hand up, flipping it over to stuck your middle finger up to him. Hangman laughed more. – “God I love winning from you Scout.” – he said with ease, getting all comfortable in his seat. You brought your F16 down to the landing track.
Rooster came running up to you as you got out of the F16. – “God I hate him.” – you muttered out. Rooster joined your side, swinging his arm around your shoulder. – “3 minutes Scout. You managed to get him off your back for 3 minutes. That’s 20 seconds longer than last time.” – Rooster spoke as you laughed mockingly at him.
“Every damn dogfight!” – you groaned out. – “He always singles me out.” – you finished with frustration. Every dogfight Hangman always came chasing after you to get you out of the game. In the beginning it took him about 30 seconds to do so. Over the courses, you had figured he’d only come after you so you adapted. Learning how to stay out of his sight that little longer.
Today it seemed to be 3 minutes. 3 minutes he had been chasing you around before kicking you out of the game. Why? No one had a clue. Perhaps cause he was just an asshole. Rooster pushed you closer to him. – “I’ll buy you drinks when this is over.” – he said. – “You better.” – you answered nudging him in the side.
Rooster chuckled leading you back to the others. Maverick patted you on the back once you joined the others. With a deep sigh, you sat down. Listening in on the intercom of Hangman and Phoenix still up in the air. After another 2 minutes or so. It was over.
Hangman walked in all smug. Phoenix shooting him a glare as Bob walked quietly behind her. You were all dismissed as you and Phoenix walked to the changing rooms. Holding your fresh shirt in your hands, you had the need to groan loud in frustration. – “Every single time.” – you called out catching Phoenix’s attention. – “I hate it.” – you added. – “I know.” – Phoenix said dramatically noticing a figure appear in the door opening.
“Isn’t that sweet.” – Hangman came leaning against the door, arms crossed. – “You’re getting all worked up over me.” – he teased with a pestering smile. Giving him a glare, you threw your shirt at his face. He dodged it as it landed in the hallway. Jake chuckling teasingly taking a run for it. You rolled your eyes, getting to the hallway to retrieve your shirt.
You finished getting dressed, slamming your locker shut. You drove with Phoenix to the bar, meeting up with everyone else. Most of the boys were already there. You waved Phoenix goodbye, coming up to the bar. You held two fingers up to Penny as she already knew the order.
On the other side of the bar appeared Hangman. – “I’ll have four more on the old timer.” – he said, leaning with his elbow on the bar. Penny quirked her eyebrow up. – “Oh, I meant Y/n.” – he enlightened Penny with a slight point at you. – “Don’t you ever grow tired of your lame jokes?” – you asked him. – “Nope.” – he responded all quirky. – “Certainly not when I can make you blush like that.” – he said.
Immediately you pressed your hand against your cheek, feeling if you had warmed up. Feeling if you were flushed without you knowing. Jake laughed loud from your reaction. He had lied, but it was fun to see you actually believe it. Penny sat down the beers in front of Hangman. – “Next time it’s your turn.” – she warned him.
Hangman clicked his tongue with a wink at you. Penny turned to your side of the bar. Giving you a sympathetic smile whilst giving you the drinks. You took them, going around the bar to your company. Phoenix sat in one of the booths with Fanboy and Rooster. You set her drink down, scooting in at Rooster’s side.
“He still bothering you.” – Rooster asked, swooping an arm over you. Your gaze flashed towards Hangman by the pool table. He looked back at you with a smile, tapping the pool stick gently on the ground. – “He just thinks he’s interesting.” – you told them, making them all laugh. – “Enough about Bagman. I want to enjoy this night.” – you said leaning closer to the table. – “Cheers to that.” – Phoenix said holding her drink up.
You raised your drink as well letting it touch with hers. The four of you chatted and laughed. Having so much fun it showed. It caught Hangman’s attention from time to time. A few more hours in and drinks away, you got up for another order. Exhaling loud you made your way over to Penny’s bar. Leaning a bit on the counter, waiting for her as she had gone to the back for some refills.
From across the bar, your eyes met up with a boy. He wore his uniform as you figured he was on a different program. He smiled at you, making you smile shyly back. He couldn’t seem to get his attention away from you. Penny returned, blocking his view as you saw him try to look past her to catch you.
It made you chuckle teasingly finding it cute. The man ordered as he then gestured at you. – “I’m buying her drinks too.” – he said. – “That’s be five more drinks on your behalf.” – you told him, letting him know he wasn’t just buying for one drink. – “Sure.” – he responded with a sweet smile. Penny didn’t interfered getting the drinks. The man patted the bar before going around and joining your side.
“So you’re a Top gunner.” – he remarked observing your uniform. You turned more towards him, observing his uniform. It had a dark blue shade. – “You’re an upper-sider.” – you acknowledged. – “That I am ma’am.” – he said making you laugh. Penny was setting the drink on the counter as you only seemed to have eyes for each other. The guy picked up a drink, handing one to you. He took one for himself, letting your drinks touch. – “Cheers to you sugar.” – he said. You leaned a bit closer, chatting with him. You remained by the bar as your friends were still waiting for their drinks.
Hangman’s gaze fell on you by the bar. Seeing another man with you. His eyes widened brief before they narrowed to a glare. – “Hangman… Hangman… Jake.” – Coyote said to get his attention. Coyote patted Jake against his shoulder. – “It’s your turn man.” – he said surprised when Jake pushed his pool stick into his hands. He made his way over to the bar, ready to break whatever was going on apart.
Jake moved himself in front of you, blocking your way from him. The guy looked surprised at the sudden appearance of him. Jake eyed him up and down. – “What do you think you are doing?” – he asked rudely. – “I…I’m just talking to her.” – the guy answered. Jake scoffed with a put up smile. – “Jake.” – you shout-whispered behind him, nudging his back with your fist to make him cut it out.
“I’m sorry but I didn’t gave you permission to talk to her.” – Jake answered. – “Jake.” – you repeated giving him another nudge to stop embarrassing you. – “I didn’t know I needed permission.” – the guy answered, not backing down. Jake gave him a taunting smile to mock him. – “Jake please.” – you begged for him to stop being such an idiot.
“I’ve got a fun idea.” – Jake said giving the guy a little shove by his shoulder. – “Why don’t you back off.” – he called out. – “Jake!” – you called out loud, already feeling embarrassed enough as all your friends were watching. – “What are you her boyfriend or something?” – the guy asked loud. You hated it and wanted to escape so you started to leave. Before you even set two steps, you were held back by Jake grabbing your wrist, keeping you by his side.
His grip firm around your wrist. The hatred in his eyes clear. Jake bumped hard with his shoulder against him, whilst dragging you along. You looked back over your shoulder to Phoenix, not sure what was happening. Phoenix could only stare speechless back at you. Jake dragged you over to where the toilets were. Secluded and away from everyone else. He let go of you by the window.
“What the hell Hangman!” – you called out. Suddenly startled when Jake moved closer, pressing his hands beside you on the glass, locking you in. – “How much do you hate me?” – he asked, making you widen your eyes in shock. – “What?” – you called out confused. – “Just how much do you hate me Y/n.” – he needed to know. For a moment you thought he was serious till you saw that smirk appear.
“I…I…I don’t know.” – you responded stuttering as you couldn’t utter a word. Not with Hangman leaning in so close to you. You looked away, finding his fixed stare a bit too intense. Hangman removed one hand from against the glass, taking your chin to make you face him. – “How much.” – he whispered eyeing your lips. You parted your lips to speak, not sure what to say. A moment later were his lips on yours.
To your surprise you were kissing him back. Not sure why you were kissing this fool back. His hands touched your lower back, pressing you closer to him as your hands found a way to his neck. Hangman broke the kiss off whilst smirking. – “So how much?” – he asked teasingly making you roll your eyes at him, pushing his face away by his cheek in a playful way. 
He grabbed you again, kissing you a second time as he didn’t seem to get enough from it. The two of you returned to the others, collecting the drinks still on the bar to hand them out. Hangman winked at you before returning to Coyote to finish his game.
The next day you were in the hangar with everyone. You sat down with Phoenix and Bob. Maverick chatting with Cyclone as they waited for the last recruits to join them. Hangman, Fanboy and Coyote neared to take a seat. Hangman first went over to you, coming to stand behind your chair. He pressed his hands down on it, lowering his head as he gave you a kiss upside down.
Phoenix’s eyes widened as Bob’s jaw dropped. Even Maverick stared shockingly at the display. Hangman pulled himself back up, seeing all eyes were on him. – “What?” – he called out. You could disappear from embarrassment. Hangman nudged Bob against his arm to get up, making way for him. Bob got up still staring as Hangman came sitting down in his seat.
"Please begin.” – Hangman told Maverick. Bob quickly took a seat behind Phoenix as Maverick cleared his throat. He moved up to the front, beginning his lecture. It was hard to get everyone’s attention as no one had thought the two of you would start dating. Coming as a total surprise to them.
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vivwritesfics · 8 months ago
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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
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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.
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k9effect · 2 months ago
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TOP GUN PROFILE PICS!
[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags highly appreciated]
Free to use! Credit appreciated but not necessary <3
Background colours are based on their helmet designs :)
I've had these in my drafts since November 2023,,, I had other characters planned and sketched out but never finished them so I'm posting this now and might do a part 2 in the future with the other characters
Also please note that these are old and my style and art has definitely improved so it's not super indicative of my current art, but I still think they have a certain charm to them :)
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almondcroissantsandink · 3 months ago
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i've wanted to practice drawing cowboys for some time now and so the daggers have turned in their helmets and fighter jets for stetsons and horses! yeehawwww
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bradshawsbaby · 9 months ago
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Like Peas in a Pod
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader
Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?
Word Count: 5.7k
Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!
Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.
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If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.
“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”
“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.
“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”
“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.
“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.
Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.
“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”
As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.
Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.
“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.
The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”
“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.
“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.
“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”
You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.
The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.
Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.
Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.
At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.
Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.
And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?
You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.
They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.
You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with  random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.
The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.
You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.
“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”
“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”
“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.
Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.
“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”
The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.
As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.
At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.
You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.
“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.
“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.
“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.
The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.
The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.
“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.
“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”
“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”
Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.
“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.
“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”
“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.
“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.
“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.
Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.
“Which one do you think is the cutest?”
“Do you see one you like?”
“Claim one now before we get over there!”
Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.
“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”
“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.
“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.
“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.
Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.
“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”
Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.
Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”
Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.
“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.
Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.
“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.
“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.
“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.
“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.
“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”
“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”
“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”
“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.
“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.
You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.
Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.
Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.
What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.
It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.
Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.
Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.
Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.
Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.
“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.
“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.
“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.
You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.
He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”
He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.
He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.
Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”
Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?
“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.
He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.
“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”
“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.
“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.
Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.
“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”
“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.
In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.
“I like it,” you told him with a smile.
“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.
The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.
“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”
You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”
“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”
“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.
“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.
You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.
As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”
“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.
Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”
“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”
“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”
“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.
“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.
“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.
“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.
“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.
“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.
“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.
“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.
“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.
“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.
You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.
“Why were you going to leave?”
You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”
“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”
Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”
You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.
“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.
Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.
“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”
“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.
“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.
“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”
He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”
“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”
He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.
The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.
It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.
The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.
“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”
“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.
“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.
“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.
“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.
“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.
“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.
“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.
“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”
Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”
“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.
Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.
“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.
“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.
“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.
“Hey, wait a second—”
“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.
Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.
“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.
“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”
Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”
And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.
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