#bob floyd tgm
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seeyalaterinnovator · 2 months ago
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A few Bob Floyd thoughts for your enjoyment
Bob is an early riser, always has been, but then he went into the military and he was up like clock work at the same time every morning. That doesn't mean that he doesn't love lazy weekend morning spent in bed with you though.
He'd wake up first, spending a little time reading a book because he didn't want to wake you up so early. He was content just to be next to you for the time being. You deserved to sleep in after a long week, and who was he to deny you that. His favorite part of the morning is when he would sneak out of bed as carefully as possible. If you were snuggled up against him, he would carefully guide the hand that was resting on his chest gently back down to the sheets so as not to disturb you. Usually your face would contort, even in your sleep, at the loss of contact. It would be enough to give him pause, but ultimately he knew you would want your morning coffee/tea and he knew just how to make it. He was careful, precise even, in his measurements. Bob knew just how you liked it. Once it was ready, he would march his way back up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Setting the cup down, he would lean down and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand firmly planted on the mattress beside your head. "Time to wake up, honey." he'd whisper.
UGH soft mornings with bob :(
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dckweed · 1 year ago
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THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND ➺ bob floyd
summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.
warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut.
this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.
part one: here
PART TWO - THE FAKE INSTAGRAM
After the whole fiasco of snorting water out of your nose and scaring the poor man half to death, Bob insists on taking you to the quaint coffee shop on the corner of the street you guys lived on, just a few steps away from the front doors of the apartment building. Reluctantly, you agree, curious to know more about the predicament your neighbor had gotten himself into. He lets you have a few minutes to throw a cropped zip up hoodie over yourself, and a baseball cap to help shade the still slightly visible bruise on your face before you meet him in the hallway. He had clipped Cosie to her leash and the excited little furball was yipping excitedly when you stepped out of your home, closing the door behind you. 
“Hi Cosie baby!” You say excitedly, your voice sweeter than honey as you crouched down to her level to excitedly scratch her behind the ears like she loved. “You being a good girl for your dad?” You ask teasingly, you knew she could never be bad, and Bob practically treated her like a princess anyway. 
“Always is..” Bob says, his accent drawling out a few of the syllables in a way that you just loved to hear. God, you thought to yourself, this man could record an audio book and have everyone swooning.  “You ready?” 
You smile, straightening up. “Yeah, lets go..” 
He was truly a gentleman you noted, he held the door to the apartment building, and the coffee shop for you as if it was second nature, only humming in response to your simple thank you, and when he pulled the chair out for you at the small table on their outdoor patio, you hoped that he didn’t notice the blush on your neck and face. Were you really so used to guys that were such brutes that you got flustered by basic acts of kindness? He hadn’t argued with you too much on paying for your own drink, letting you do it after a small squabble..or maybe you really didn’t give him a choice..you had already payed with your phone while you were arguing before he had even gotten his wallet out of his back pocket. 
“So,” You say as he sits across from you, looping Cosie’s leash to the more shaded side of the table. “Can you elaborate on the whole girlfriend thing for me?” Now it was him who was turning red. 
He fidgets awkwardly with his hot, black coffee for a moment, those eyebrows knit tightly together again. He clears his throat before he speaks. “I kind of..already told all of my friends that we’re dating.” He says, you lean back in the chair, your head tilted slightly towards the sun as you listen to him. You enjoyed the warmth on your face.“I..i don’t know what came over me..we were all drinking, and they said something about dating it somehow turned to me..and i just..i’m so tired of Hangman and his fucking manwhore whorier than thou attitude and always teasing me for not going on dates all  the time..” 
“So you told them you were dating someone?” You ask, seeing where the story was going. You could tell that the story alone was irritating him by the was his hand clenched around his coffee cup and the tightness around his mouth, the tick in his jaw. You wondered how long he had been putting up with this ‘Hangman’ guy. 
Bob nods. “And then they asked her name, and at the time the only thing i could come up with quickly enough to not seem suspicious was Sunny..so..” You laugh a little bit, this man was adorable, and obviously gentle even though he was clearly upset by what he was talking about. You liked that about him, you decided. 
How could you not help him? And really, what could it hurt? “How long would you need me to be your girlfriend for?” You ask, bringing the straw of your iced latte to your lips, moaning softly as the heavy caramel flavor hit your tongue. You could drink it forever. You see his body sag a little at your words, a little more relaxed. 
“Just long enough to make it believable.” He states, eyeing you from across the table. Cosie’s cold nose pokes your leg and you happily reach down and scratch her head, giving the little baby all the attention she wanted. “A couple of nights out with my friends, obviously, and im sure Nat will want to hang out with you one on one..” He says, actually thinking of the scenarios that would most likely take place. “A couple of official work events, probably, I would say, a few months..” 
You turn your attention back to him, lips pursed. A few months? That would land you around the beginning of the year..through Christmas..you had agreed to go home for the holiday’s this year. You arched a brow as you thought. It would look good if you brought a man home to your family, especially a man like Bob, they would swoon all over him..you wouldn’t have to spend the whole week hearing your grandmother tell you that you should be married already, or have a family like your brother and sister.. “Okay, i’ll help you out, but only if the fake boyfriend thing can be used in my favor too..” You say. He nods immediately. “So..rules?” 
The two of you talk for a couple of hours at the coffee shop, the little table filled with the occasional laughter as you talked about rules of the arrangement, and what would need to be done. Later on you found yourself on one side of your couch, Bob on the other as the two of you tried to work out a schedule. 
“Can you meet with me and the crew at our usual bar tomorrow night?” He asks, looking up from his phone at you. Natasha and Jake were blowing up the group chat about meeting you and it was slowly driving him insane. He had about forty text messages from this morning until right that moment. 
You shake your head. :”I have work tomorrow night, but i’m off Monday.” You say, looking up from your own phone. You had been texting your sister about your plans for the Holidays. “My sister wants to know where you’re from, and what you do and i dont think she’ll take ‘navy dude’ as an answer” Bob looks at you, slightly offended. 
“Navy dude?” He asks, setting his phone down for just a moment. “Sunny, i’m not just a ‘navy dude’, i’m a weapons system officer. I control the weapons and radar in multi million dollar government aircraft.” He looked completely offended by your terminology and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the way he was explaining his official job title to you. “..and I’m from Montana.” 
“That explains the accent.” You say, texting your sister back.
Bob scoffs. “Accent?” He’d never been told he had an accent before. “Where are you from? This is basic stuff we should probably know about each other if we want people to believe this, you know?” You hummed in response, he was definitely right. “Also, Phoenix wants to know what your instagram is..” 
“Well, that depends on how much you want your friends to know about me.” You say, setting your phone down to look at him. He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed again. You have the sudden urge to reach across the damn couch and smooth the area with your thumb, but you resist. “Don’t look at me like that, you know what i mean. Are they the judgemental type?” He opens his mouth, as if to protest and say no, but then closes it and gives a slight nod. “Okay, so fake insta it is.” 
It was a good thing you already had a fake instagram account for your grandmother and other family members because it made it a hell of alot easier for you. “A fake instagram? Won’t they think something is weird if it doesn’t have any pictures of us together on it?” He asks, not fully sure of your plan. You roll your eyes and maneuver yourself so you’re laying in Bob’s lap, looking directly up at him. 
His entire body goes stiff and you can’t tell if its from surprise or from being uncomfortable with your proximity, but you don’t move and after a few moments his thigh muscles untense. He smells good, you realize as you breathe in slightly. “My fake account isn’t exactly fake, okay?” You say, opening the instagram app on your phone and switching it to your second profile. “It’s just not the one I use mainly that i post on for my friends or well, if you were actually my boyfriend, you, to see..” 
“Then what is the point of it?” He asks looking down at you, his accent flowing smoothly through you. His voice was a little quieter now that you were so close to him, and in all honesty you didn’t mind it one bit. 
You chuckle, giving him your phone so he can scroll through it. “I normally use it for my grandma and other family members, so they won’t have a damn heart attack..they already don’t like my line of work, there’s no need to go killing them with some pictures.” Bob hums in response, scrolling through a few of the posts. “It’s the extremely tame version of my main account.”
His phone pings again and he grunts, rolling his eyes. Before he can even try to hand you your own back, you grab his off the arm of the couch above you and thank god that it was already unlocked. You gasp at the text. “Hangman wants proof that im a real girl and not just a figment of your imagination.” You say, an idea coming to mind. You roll off of his lap and quickly stand, pulling him by the forearm to his feet as he makes a disgruntled noise. 
You lead him down the small hallway, past your bedroom and into your bathroom (which was thankfully not its usual disastrous mess of makeup and lingerie scattered everywhere). “Okay, stand there..” You grab him by the biceps, shocked at how solid they are because he honestly didn’t seem to be overly buff to you, and position him exactly where you want him. 
“Sunny, what’re we doin’?” He sighs, letting you move him around every which way. He had to admit, he liked the way you grabbed his arms, the way you squeezed at his biceps. He tried not to let his mind linger too much on it though, tried not to notice the way that your fingertips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake every time they lingered anywhere on his bare skin. 
“Taking pictures, duh.” You say as if it should have been obvious. You turn around, satisfied with his position, and face the mirror yourself, positioning his arm around your shoulders and over your chest as you press back against his surprisingly solid body. You weren’t exactly a short person by any means, but there was definitely a noticeable height difference between you and him. Your head just barely cleared his shoulders, his chin able to rest perfectly onto of your head. It made for a cute photo, you thought and you pretended not to notice the goofy smirk on his face as you captured the photo as stealthily as you could, leaning back into his chest as his chin rested on top of your head, his arm over your chest and your hand wrapped around his forearm as you took the picture, acutely aware of his hand just over the waistband of your lululemon pants. 
You hum, thinking about what other positions would be cute enough to send to his friends and post to your fake insta account, you wanted to hard launch him to your family too if you were hard launching to his friends. You turn the camera of his phone front facing, and set it up to take rapid photos on a timer before you abruptly turn around and jump up, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. 
“Smile at me.” You say, as your hand snakes up into his hair. You didn’t really have to though because he was already smiling at you in surprise as you leaned your forehead against his. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hold me.” You giggle suddenly, and the sound makes his smile grow wider as he adjusts his hands so they’re fulling on your ass, supporting you as he drops his head to your shoulder. 
The whole ordeal of the photo session takes about fifteen minutes or so, and when you’re finished you lead him back out into the living room. “Sorry to jump on you like that, but i had to catch you off guard, i wanted it to look believable.” You say, sitting back down on the couch. He only hums in response, taking a spot next to you as he watches you pick through your favorite photos in his camera roll to text to yourself. 
“You’re awfully good at that,” He ques, watching you edit some of the photos you had sent to your own phone, before you compose an instagram post of the best ones. “I always just take them and post them, i never thought that filters really mattered..” 
You chuckle at the man, shaking your head. “What’s your instagram, bobby?” You ask, using your nickname for him as you type out a caption for the post. 
“Oh, uh,” a slight blush heats up his neck and face and he clears his throat before responding. “It’s @thewizzo ..natasha actually came up with the handle.” You type it into your caption, eyebrows furrowed. You’re about to ask him what the hell a wizzo is when he answers it for you. “It’s uh, well, sometimes its a nickname, or another acronym for WSO..” 
“Oh, snazzy..” You say showing him the post. It was a series of four photos and a small, but cute caption.
“Is it Bobby approved?” You ask. He gives you an affirmative nod and you hit the post button, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before your sister and brother blow up your phone. “Okay, well, here’s to our fake relationship!” You say, attaching the photo of Bob holding you with his hands on your ass to a text with your instagram handle and sending it to his friends group chat. 
The phone pings before you’ve even handed it back to him. 
Hangman: holy fuck she’s real.  Phee: shut up you moron, im following her rn!!  Rooster: …wait i thought i was imagining this conversation last night Payback: oh, shit..way to go Bob!!
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taglist!
@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar
@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks
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mxrcusflint · 4 months ago
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daggers (this is how the movie went, right?)
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jayjay-thejet-plane · 4 months ago
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Day 1 of topguntober, “napping together” :P (hangster ft. bobnix roadtrip)
Sketch/wip below!
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vivwritesfics · 3 months ago
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"What do you mean his name is Bob?"
Your girl friends all laughed around you as they repeated your boyfriends name. "Nobody is called Bob in this day and age," said another one of your girl friends. "That's a grumpy old man's name."
You sank in your seat and sipped your drink. "Shut up," you grumbled. "His name is Bob and that's that."
"Still," they said. "I bet he calls you honey and shit like that."
He did call you honey.
And you loved it.
It was at that moment when you realised that you and your girl friends were at different stages of life. They were fucking around and having fun (honestly, as they should), and you had found someone to settle down with. Someone who made you unbelievably happy.
His name just so happened to be Bob.
"So," said another one of your girl friends. "When do we get to meet this famous Bob?" She asked.
Reluctantly, you answered. "He's picking me up later."
The evening progressed. The teasing about your sweet boyfriend's name continued, but it had lightened up significantly.
As you finished up your final drink, your phone buzzed on the table. I'm here, sweetheart xx, the text said.
Picking up you bag, you pulled your skirt down slightly. "He's here, isn't he?" One of your girl friends called, eyes lighting up. "Can we meet him?"
Releasing a sigh, you gestured for them to follow you out of the bar. Bob's truck was outside, with Bob leaning against it.
Wearing a sweater and jeans, scruff from where he hadn't been shaving while on leave, and his glasses. He looked like a dream.
"That's not him," one of your girl friends whispered in disbelief. "That hunk is not called Bob."
He looked over to you and your little group and pushed away from the truck, grinning as he approached. "Hi, honey," he said and wrapped his arms around you.
You leaned into him and his lips met the top of your head. "Bob, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Bob."
He shook each of their hands and began asking who needed a ride home.
Bob might have been a grumpy, old man's name, but your Bob was the sweetest man out there.
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itsonlystatic · 20 days ago
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Thank you guys so much for the amount of love my new posts are getting! Not crying, I swear.
Here is the short awaited individual pictures of our aviators helmets! Ignore the minor flaws, because they exist. Hope you enjoy!!
Might be making more TGM art soon, who knows?👀
(these will be stickers, available soon!!)
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k9effect · 4 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 · 5 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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withahappyrefrain · 1 year ago
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The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It
Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.
Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)
Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!
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"Your hands are so big."
It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.
"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."
Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.
Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?
You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.
"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.
"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.
"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.
"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.
Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-
"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"
You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."
As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"
Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"
"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.
"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.
You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.
Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.
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"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.
"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.
"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.
It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".
"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.
"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.
With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."
"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.
"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.
It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.
"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.
God damn it.
You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.
Honey: We need to go to Plan C.
Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?
Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.
Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?
Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.
Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽
Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.
Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.
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Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.
"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.
"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.
"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.
It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.
You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.
"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.
Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"
You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"
Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.
"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.
Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.
"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.
"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.
"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.
Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."
Your breath hitched, "You do?"
Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"
He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.
Time for Plan D.
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"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"
"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.
"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"
It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.
"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.
"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.
"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.
When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.
"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.
"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.
If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.
"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.
Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."
It took everything in you not to scream.
The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.
With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.
Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board
Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.
Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?
Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate
Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?
Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!
Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?
You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!
Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?
Bagman: Like 52% nude.
Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.
Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?
Bagman: No that's plan G
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"Hey Bee!"
The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.
"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."
"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."
"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."
The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."
You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.
Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.
"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.
Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"
You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.
After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.
Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.
The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.
Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."
"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.
In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.
You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.
His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.
So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-
"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."
This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.
Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.
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The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.
He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.
Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?
Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.
"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.
You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.
"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.
"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.
"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.
His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.
You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.
"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.
"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.
"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.
"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."
His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"
"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.
"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"
You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.
"The first day of training?" He repeated.
"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."
Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.
"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.
His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.
Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.
When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.
"FINALLY!"
You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.
You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.
Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.
Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.
"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?
"Let's go."
He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.
"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.
"Making up for lost time!"
Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.
The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.
Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.
You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.
Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.
"Why do you keep doing that?!"
"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."
"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."
"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.
Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.
His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.
What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?
You wanted to know everything.
But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.
Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.
"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.
Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.
"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.
"I would love that Robby."
Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"
You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."
He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"
"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.
"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"
"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.
"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"
"As most things are."
"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."
You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.
"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.
"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.
"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.
"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.
Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"
Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.
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kcsplace · 4 months ago
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Top Gun Maverick + The Onion
Top Gun Silliness
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enthyrea · 4 months ago
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movie night 🍿
(halfway through a star wars marathon. bob and mickey are having a great time! the rest of the daggers… well.)
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eliashirsch · 7 months ago
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In which Bradley is the CEO but not really
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Bradley, probably: we need to have a meeting. i'm being disrespected here
Jake, Nat, Bob: take it up with the boss
Bradley: i am the boss!
(for the bingo: Secretary/Boss) @topgunalternateuniverse
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mxrcusflint · 2 months ago
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assorted text posts ft. top gun
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jayjay-thejet-plane · 3 months ago
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TOPGUNtober Day 6 + 7: The Hard Deck + Forced Proximity
(i actually did sketch this on the right day, after that i fell behind tho lmao)
Close-ups :P
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Lineart + Sketch below!
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helyiios · 7 months ago
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who’s the better phoenix natasha or romain grosjean
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vivwritesfics · 2 months ago
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May I request a Bob Floyd x Reader fic? Maybe Bob coming home for the holidays, but doesn’t tell Reader so Reader is all excited/surprised. (I’m in a fluffy sort of mood.) Thank you :)
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warnings: slight, barely there angst, pregnancy, birth
Bob couldn't help but grin as he thought about it, driving home from Top Gun. Leave had come about last minute for him, not giving him enough time to write for you, letting you know.
Writing letters was how you communicated. It was sweet, making him feel like an old timey soldier, writing to his love back home. Sometimes you two would call, arranged through letters. But recently your letters had stopped.
You loved him, Bob knew. The letters stopping didn't make him worried. Maybe they were getting lost. Yeah, that was right, they were getting lost. And that was what Phoenix told him in reassurance every time your letters didn't arrive with the rest of the mail.
He hadn't told you that he was coming home. He could imagine it though. Stepping through the door while you're in the kitchen, stress baking as you often did when he was away. You would turn around and catch sight of him, dropping the bowl that you were holding. It would make a mess at your feet, but you wouldn't care.
"When did you get here?" You would ask him, hand settling on your bump. The pregnancy updates had stopped with the letters and Bob had missed them so much, looking at the pictures you had sent with your previous letters. Pictures of your scans, pictures of your bump, you telling him what size fruit your baby was.
He would smile softly at you, dropping his bags to stride over to you. "I've been here the whole time," he would say as he took your hand and pulled you to step over your dropped baking.
You would throw yourself at him, pressing kisses all over his face. Bob would hold your hips and press his forehead to yours. His hand would travel up, feeling your bump. "My love," he would whisper and kiss you. "My angel." He would drop to his knees. "My baby," he would whisper and kiss your bump.
Bob pulled up to the house in his red truck.
No lights were on, no Christmas decorations were displayed. No twinkling lights hanging from the windows, no tree shining through the open blinds. The decorations, the light up Santa and sleigh weren't set up on the yard and no wreath was on the front door.
Something wasn't right.
Bob grabbed his bags from the truck. He made his way to the front door, unlocked it and walked inside.
The house was silent, still. When Bob had come home as a surprise before, the whole surprise had been ruined by the dog running up to him, barking his head off. But not this time. The dog wasn't there, his bowl by the front door was gone.
"Honey!" Bob called. It was too early for you too be asleep. Heading up the stairs, he walked to your shared bedroom. "Baby?" Throwing open the door he looked into the room.
The bed was perfectly made in the too cold bedroom, as if you weren't sleeping there. His stomach dropped. Bob ran from room to room, desperately searching for any sign of you. He ran to the room beside your own, his heart sinking.
The room had been set up for the baby, completely finished. It was something he hadn't gotten around to before he headed back to work, headed out to sea. But here it was, walls completely painted, the mural he had started finished. The crib had been set up and the shelves had been screwed into the walls, filled with soft toys and picture books.
Maybe you had left him.
No. The baby's room was ready in the house you shared. You couldn't have left him.
Grabbing his phone, Bob pressed to his ear. He waited, anxiety making him feel so damn sick as he headed back to his truck.
You picked up within a few rings. "Bobby?" You asked, voice small and breaking. It came out almost like a squeak, had Bob's heart melting.
"Hey, honey," he whispered, relief flooding him. You didn't hate him, you hadn't left him. You wouldn't have sounded like that if you did. "I'm home."
"Shit."
He hadn't been expecting that.
"What is it?" He asked quickly. That same panic flooding him yet again.
"Bobby, we went to stay with your parents."
We. You and the dog. "You're in Montana?" He asked as he headed back inside. "You made the drive on your own?"
"We stopped on the way," you said, an attempt to reassure him. "We didn't do the whole twenty hours in one stint."
Bob dropped his bags and headed upstairs. "I'm on my way," he said as he stuffed his clothes into a bag. "I'll be there soon, sweetheart. Just act surprised when I get there."
You laughed, the sweetest sound Bob had ever heard. "Okay," you said. "I love you." The two of you hung up after that, letting him get himself ready for the drive.
Bob tried to do the twenty hour drive in one do. Fifteen hours in, he pulled into a rest stop, refuelled and had a nap. It was just a quick one, letting him rest before he hit the road again.
Five hours later, he pulled up outside of his parents house. He had driven through the night, desperate to get to you. The moment he pulled up outside of the house, he climbed out of the car and walked up to his parents front door. You were in there, his wife, the soon to be mother of his child.
Sucking in a breath, he knocked.
Only a few moments later, the door was pulled open. Bob's father stood there, eyes wide as he looked at his son. he didn't know he was home, leaving it as a surprise, just as you said you would.
His dad pulled him into the house, arms around him. He said nothing as he walked him through the house, into the living room.
The minute Bob laid eyes on you, he felt himself welling up. "Hi, Bobby," you whispered.
His steps were slow as he approached you, as he approached the little bundle in your arms. "Hi honey," he whispered and dropped to his knees in front of you.
His eyes hadn't left the baby in your arms. He swallowed, his mouth dry. "Is this..."
You nodded. "Bobby Floyd, I'd like you to meet your daughter."
His daughter. You had given birth... and Bob had missed it. He took his glasses off as he wiped his tears away. His daughter. She was here. He had missed almost all of your pregnancy, left you to do it all on your own.
He couldn't help the way he cried. You reached out and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Do you wanna hold her?" You asked and Bob nodded.
You placed your daughter into his arms. Bob choked down a sob as he looked down at her. She was so small in his arms, had his nose. Fuck, she was the most precious thing he had ever seen.
You wiped more tears from his cheeks as Bob sat beside you on the sofa. You leaned against him, your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he cried, unable to take his eyes off of her. "You did this all on your own and I should have been here."
"I was fine, Bobby," you whispered and pushed your fingers through his hair, trying to sooth him. "I knew it couldn't do the holidays on my own, so I came here. I sent you a letter telling you."
He released a mix of a laugh and a sob. "I haven't been getting letters," he said, his voice shaking as his head came to rest on top of yours.
Your eyes went wide. "What? So, you missed the letters about Amelia?"
Amelia Floyd. His daughter. He sobbed again, looking down at her. She opened her eyes, her blue eyes and stared up at her father. She started crying, but it was nothing to do with him. "Hungry, 'melia?" You asked as you took her from his arms.
His wife, his daughter at his family home. The dog came to join you at some point, jumped into his lap and licked his face. "Okay, Rog," he said through a laugh, giving him the attention he so wanted.
His family, reunited for the holidays. He couldn't have asked for anything better for Christmas.
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