#bob floyd has my heart

[ihartcrunchygrapes]

@lew.pull on tiktok!! this edit flopped so bad on that platform, that i had to delete it completely!! hopefully this time it reaches the right audience lmao😭

[withahappyrefrain]

Bob Floyd would take his daughters to get pedicures and lets them pick out the color for his toes

[ryebecca]

"You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day." - Gold Rush, by @bobfloydsbabe 📚🍁✨ | (eccentric professor!Bob Floyd)

[golden-stilinski]

Sometimes when I hear certain Morgan Wallen songs, I think of small midwestern town Bob Floyd. Tire races through random fields, bonfires after a football game, drinking moonshine that's been sitting on top of his fridge for as long as he can remember. Most any country song will do but the picture of Morgan Wallen that my car shows when he plays reminds me of longer-haired Bob.

[dearsnow]

YOUR BAR BOYFRIEND

- after being harassed by a drunken stranger, your bar boyfriend swoops in to save the day (bob floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is intended to be on the quieter/more introverted side, but if you’re not like that you can ignore that one line ⚠️ verbal sexual harassment, drinking).

PART 2

word count: 1,206

a/n - tell a friend to tell a friend… SHE’S BAAACKKKK!!!! i’m so glad to be back to writing, y’all have no idea how much i missed it. i’ll probably be a bit rusty until i find my rhythm, so please ignore the not-top-quality writing until then. also, feel free to send in requests or chat!!

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend.” You utter apologetically, side-stepping the arm of the man in front of you. He reeks of beer and a hard day’s work, his scruffy face all too unkept in the lighting of the bar. You can’t even fathom exactly why you’re in the bar in the first place- you’ve never been one to explore, but this man is making you feel like you never want to leave your house again.

Your eyes scan the room, but no one seems to notice your predicament. The bar is full of Navy men, surely one of them would be fine with pretending to help you. “C’mon, sugar, one drink. Thas’ all ya have to do. If it goes well, hey, I wouldn’t mind one fuck either.” He grins, winking. The hope that you held in your heart is quickly dissipating. “He don’t have to know.” You feel your stomach drop as he moves to grab your hand, but an firm grip shoves his fingers away instead.

“Honey, is this guy bothering you?” A voice behind you speaks. You quickly turn around.

“I… yeah.” You stutter. You’re staring right into the face of a guy in a uniform, his jaw set as he glares at the drunk through his glasses.

He moves in front of you, creating a physical barrier between you and the significantly shorter man. Relief floods you. “Then I think he’d better leave before someone kicks him out, huh?”

The intoxicated man rolls his eyes, but frantically shuffles out the door of the bar. His gait was evidently terrified.

The tension is pulled from your shoulders, and you unintentionally sigh. The guy with glasses turns around to face you. His expression is softer now that the threat is gone, and his concern is almost cute.

“Are you alright?” He asks. “I’m sorry for the pet name thing, but I overheard you and I couldn’t really just stand there and watch. I’m Bob, by the way, Bob Floyd.” He reaches his hand out for you to shake, and as you do, his hesitates through his rambling.

You smile at him. “Thank you, Bob, I’m fine. And I don’t mind.” His grip is firm but not crushing, just like his presence. You introduce yourself, and he nods like he’s desperate to commit the sound of your name to memory. The respectful tone is honestly a breath of fresh air with the raucous energy of the Hard Deck, causing your cheeks to be a few degrees warmer when you pull your hand away. Our of the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe his somewhat clammy hands on the sides of his pants.

“Also, I’m sorry for taking the place of your actual boyfriend. I assumed you just didn’t know where he was, so I stepped in.” His eyes search for your own, holding steady eye contact. They’re the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I don’t actually have a boyfriend, but I thought a lie was the better choice. You saved me, and that’s all that matters.” Your voice has a certain breathy quality to it. You’ve completely transitioned from terror to being deeply attracted to the person who spared you an even more intense confrontation. Bob’s eyes widen just slightly.

He takes his hands away from his sides and motions to one of the tables in the corner, his face just the slightest bit pinker. “Would you want to sit down?”

You nod, and he leads the way. As he’s pulling out your chair for you, you can’t help but wonder how your night turned out this way. You went from having the worst night of your life to dizzily encountering the person you could only describe as being your bar boyfriend.

You just recently moved to this part of San Diego for a newfound job opportunity, completely unaware of your proximity to the Hard Deck and a Naval base. You didn’t know anyone or anything, and as someone who isn’t necessarily very outgoing, it was hard for you to adjust. Not even your coworkers were easy to make friends with, so you slowly became more and more isolated.

The bar was kind of your last resort. You didn’t expect to find anything great, and you still don’t know what compelled you to go, but some hidden part of you figured that at least you could get some form of entertainment. Finding Bob, though, you never expected.

Conversation feels easy with him. He seems like a quiet guy, but he knows exactly what to say to keep you talking, and he offers insights of his own that just further the subject you’re talking about. Words fly from your mouths, and you can say that you’ve never enjoyed talking more. You bounce from common topics like work and hobbies to deeper breakdowns of memories and experiences, your smile growing wider every second. You’re completely in a world that was built brick by brick for you and him.

You’re so lost in the moment that you don’t even notice the woman who rests her hand on the back of your chair until she speaks. “Bob, you of all people? Never would’ve expected you to abandon us for a pretty girl.”

Bob reddens as you turn to face her. “Sorry, Nat.”

She holds a hand out to you, which you shake. “Call me Phoenix. He’s my backseater, and apparently a lady killer tonight.”

Bob stands as Phoenix gives him a pointed look. “Sorry to steal him away from you, but he’s taken way too long of a break from our pool game. I’ll give him back to you later.”

“You say that like I’m a robot.” He grumbles, showing just a hint of disappointment at having to leave your conversation.

You wave him away. “Have fun, Bob. I’d better go anyways.”

“Wait-“ he starts as you stand up, “-could I give you my number first?”

You secretly cheer inside of your head. You nod, and he takes a pen out of his shirt pocket. “Here.” He mumbles, writing it on a spare napkin and handing it to you. His fingers brush over yours, sending electrifying sparks throughout your entire body. You could get used to this feeling, you think. His hand hovers for a split second before regretfully moving away. “It’s, uh, it’s up to you, but I’d really like it if you called or texted. I had a nice time with you.”

You tuck the napkin into your bag, eyes soft. Bob thinks he’s never seen a sight so beautiful- the sun is setting behind you, and it casts you in a golden light as your mouth quirks up. “Of course I will. I had a nice time with you too.”

Your voice is quiet, but a sound that he relishes all the same. He could’ve gotten lost in you if Phoenix wasn’t impatiently tapping her foot next to him.

She pulls him away, and though he knows he’s up for a lot of teasing, Bob can’t find it in himself to care. He just knows that he needs to see you again, and you know that no matter what, you’ll make it happen.

[roosterforme]

The Wingman | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more!

"I need your help," Jake said, forcefully removing the cup of peanuts from Bob's hand. "Right now. Come on."

"With what?" Bob asked quietly as Jake hauled him to his feet and started pushing him away from the pool table and toward the bar. Bob wiped peanut shells from his uniform as he went, perplexed about what was going on.

"See those two girls?" Jake asked, pointing to the end of the bar. "Kinda cute, right?"

Bob's jaw dropped open. Kinda cute didn't quite cover it. Gorgeous was more like it. He swallowed the last peanut he was chewing on and murmured, "Yeah. Very cute."

"Great. The one on the right has a perfect looking rack, and she seems kind of mean. She's for me. You can have the one on the left. She's sweet. Not my type," Jake said as they drew closer.

Bob was practically stumbling along now. "But why do you need me?"

"You're going to be my wingman."

"But.... we aren't flying?" Bob asked, so perplexed.

Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Focus, Floyd. It means you can hang out with the friend for a bit so I can get laid. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Bob muttered, and then he was being thrust up right next to where you were standing. He had to catch the wall so he didn't slam into you, and then you looked up at him slowly as you released your straw from your lips and smiled.

"Hi." Your voice was breathy and soft, the perfect juxtaposition to the noisy bar. And you looked even more beautiful up close, something Bob would have thought impossible. "Are you Jake's friend?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, swallowing hard as your bright smile took his breath away. "I'm Bob," he managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

And then you gave him your name, and something told him he was going to remember it for the rest of his life. "It's nice to meet you, Bobby."

He nodded, heart thudding. "Nice to meet you, too." 

You called him Bobby, and he liked the way it sounded on your lips. But nothing compared to what you said next. 

"I noticed you before," you said, looking down at your drink, suddenly shy. "Last weekend when we were here. And the weekend before that. I can't believe you're talking to me."

You had noticed him before? Bob couldn't formulate real words. You were surprised he was talking to you? But you were so far out of his league, it was ridiculous! He just watched your straw brushing against your lips as your gaze slowly moved up his chest and neck until your eyes met his again. You were just so pretty.

You cleared your throat and pressed your lips together. "Of course, if you don't feel like talking to me, you don't have to." And you quickly turned to face the bar, taking a few steps away from him. That's when Bob realized he'd been staring at you instead of talking to you at all. 

"No, no, I do want to talk to you," he said, wondering if it was okay to touch you and decided to go for it as he reached out to let his fingers brush your arm. He said your name and you turned to look at him again, but you didn't come any closer. "Sorry, I-I just got distracted by how pretty you are."

You laughed, and that smile was back now. "You know, that usually sounds like a line when a guy says it, but for some reason I believe you, Bobby. I even told my friend Alli that you looked handsome and sweet at the same time." You gestured toward your friend who had her lips glued to Jake's, but Bob barely glanced in their direction.

"Nobody really calls me Bobby, but I like it when you do."

When you closed the distance between your bodies and ran your fingers along his collection of insignia pins, Bob let his left hand rest lightly on your waist, and you didn't stop him. He couldn't believe you were letting him touch you. 

"What do you do in the navy?" you asked, meeting his eyes before examining his pins a little closer. 

"I'm an aviator," he replied. 

"You fly a jet?" you asked, eyes wide now. And this was what Bob hated more than anything; having to explain to someone that he was just a backseater. 

"No, I'm a weapons systems officer, actually."

"Oh! So you're in charge of a pilot! Do you fly with Jake?"

Bob smiled at your simple and yet surprisingly accurate description of what a WSO did. "No, I fly with her," he replied, pointing across the bar where Phoenix was gaping at him with a pool cue in her hand. 

You turned to look before turning back to him and saying, "That's so fascinating, Bobby."

"What do you do?" he asked, wrapping his hand a little further around your back and nearly gasping as he felt the swell of your butt. He let go of you like he'd been burned, but you reached for his hand and placed it right where it had been. 

"I'm a kindergarten teacher."

Bob's mouth went dry. Phoenix told him all the time that he was destined to marry a sweet, pretty kindergarten teacher and have six kids and a golden retriever. 

"Do you like kids, Bobby?" you asked, your fingers back on his pins. 

"Yeah... six of them," he murmured. 

"Hmm?"

"Oh. Nothing," he told you. "Yes, I like kids. Sometimes I volunteer to read at the library when they need military personnel for story time. Hey, how do you feel about golden retrievers?

"Your lips parted slightly as you looked at him, and Bob could feel his cheeks flushing with color as you leaned up. The way your eyes fluttered closed should have been enough warning for him, but nobody had ever done this to him before in the middle of the Hard Deck. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of girls he had ever kissed at all, anywhere.

But the soft touch of your lips to his was enough to have his right hand wrapping around you as well. And then everything felt perfect as he touched you while you kissed him. 

The kiss didn't last long, but you kept your body pressed right up to his while you assured him that golden retrievers were your very favorite type of dog. Then you told Bob about your classroom and your school and the kids in your class. You told him how much you liked when they played movies in the park by your apartment. You told him that you always went with some of your friends to the food truck festivals. And you told him how much you liked his glasses. 

"You really like them?" Nobody liked his glasses. Women frequently asked him if he ever wore contacts. He supposed that would make him a bit better looking, but he hated poking at his eyes when he needed to use them for work.

"Like is an understatement," you assured him with a smile. "You're so cute. Can I kiss you again?"

Bob nodded helplessly, already kind of pathetically in need of your attention. This kiss was a little more forceful, and Bob could feel your tongue touching his.

And then Alli threw her drink on Jake, and you gasped, backing out of Bob's arms. "Maybe I should go check on her," you said as your friend stormed toward the exit. But you didn't move. 

"Well, Bob, your wingman duty is no longer needed," Jake drawled, wiping what appeared to be rum and coke from his face before he wandered away.

You groaned and tipped your head back before you met Bob's eyes. "Jake made you come over and talk to me, didn't he?"

You looked completely distraught, and Bob thought he might die if you left right now. He didn't even have your number, and he hadn't asked you out on a date yet. "Don't go," he begged, reaching for you as you set your empty glass on the bar. "Please. It took literally no persuading on Jake's part to get me to come over here. And you're so pretty, I would have been too scared to ever come over on my own."

You looked at him for a beat. "You seem sincere. Are you being sincere?"

"Of course," he swore, panicking inside. "I don't want you to leave. I'm hoping you'll give me your number and let me take you out tomorrow."

To Bob's relief, you pulled him over to the one empty bar stool and pushed him down to sit. Then you were on his lap, perched on his thigh, and he was handing you his phone. You saved your name and phone number and texted yourself so you could have his number too. "Where are you taking me tomorrow, Bobby?" you asked him.

"Anywhere you want," he promised. And you ran your fingers through his hair, teasing them along the back of his neck as you kissed him again. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you a little closer. Then he felt you reach for his other hand, guiding it to your bare knees where his fingers skimmed the hem of your dress. 

You were good at this. You knew what you were doing. But Bob wasn't good at romance, and he didn't have a lot of experience. But he knew he was already addicted to your kisses. And he should have understood what you meant as soon as you said it, but he really didn't.

"You could take me out for breakfast," you whispered as you kissed your way along his jaw and tasted his neck.

"Okay," he muttered. "I'd love to pick you up tomorrow morning. For breakfast."

He was just thankful you didn't laugh at him when you pulled back. Instead you were biting your lip and toying with his pins again as you said, "Or you could stay over. And then you wouldn't have to come pick me up. Because you'd already be there."

Bob knew he was hard in his khaki uniform pants, and the way your thigh was nudging him wasn't helping him process the fact that you just invited him to spend the night with you. He didn't know if he could do this. He'd never done this sort of thing before. 

You were looking at him expectantly and a little apprehensively. He kissed you softly. "I don't usually go home with girls from the bar. I actually don't even usually talk to girls when I'm here. Or...anywhere, really." His face was flushed, collar too tight. He was uncomfortable now as you appraised him with your wide eyes.

"How is that possible? You're so smooth." Now Bob was the one with big eyes as you added, "I've never taken a guy home from the bar before, but you make me feel comfortable. And I think you're sweet. And I'm pretty sure we're going to date."

Bob nodded, so sure of it. "Yeah, we're going to date. And get a golden retriever." 

Your smile right before you kissed the tip of his nose made him squeeze you tighter. "Then let's go," you whispered, wiggling out of his arms to stand up. Bob had to try to discreetly adjust himself as you dug into your purse, but he managed to get his wallet out in time to pay for your drink before you could. "Thanks, Bobby," you muttered, taking his hand in yours. 

Bob watched the identical looks of shock on Jake's and Nat's faces as you looked up at him and lured him toward the door. He was going back to your place. He was going to take you out for breakfast. He was so excited. And so nervous.

As he helped you climb in his pick-up truck, you leaned down and kissed him softly, and he just knew you would never make fun of him for anything. Bob closed the door and walked around the truck, checking his phone which had been vibrating nonstop.

Hangman: I told you she was sweet.

Nat Trace: OMG BOB, have a great night! Text me tomorrow! 

He climbed into the truck only to find that you had buckled yourself into the center of the bench seat right next to him. "Hi," you said with a laugh, and then you let your palm come to rest on his thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

"Where do you live?" he asked softly, and you gave him directions while you touched him so gently that Bob felt some of his nervousness receding. He parked in front of your building, and you led him inside. 

The elevator ride was filled with sweet kisses as you draped your arms around his neck. Either you could tell that he was out of his element and were being extra nice about it, or this was how you always liked to do things. Either way, he really, really liked it. Even the swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as the elevator arrived at your floor wasn't too much for him now. When he nibbled gently on your lip, you moaned softly, and he pushed you back against the wall. 

"Let's go," you panted, pulling him toward your door. Bob kissed the side of your neck as you fiddled with your key, but once you had him inside, things started going a little too fast for him. 

You closed and locked the door, and then your fingers were on the zipper of his uniform pants, and your tongue was in his mouth. Bob let you slip your hand inside the waistband of his underwear, and then your hand was stroking him, and he was seeing stars behind his eyelids. It felt so good. He'd been touched like this before, but it had been months, and it had been with someone he was dating. 

He liked you a lot, and he didn't want you to stop. But suddenly, when your hand stroked back up his already throbbing cock, he pulled away from your kisses. "Can we go a little slower?" he asked between raspy breaths. 

You nodded with uncertainty at him and gently slid your hand out of his underwear. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Guys usually like that."

"I do!" he insisted. "It's....just...maybe we can kiss more first?"

"Okay," you agreed. "How about on the couch?"

"Sure," Bob whispered. You pulled him further into your living room, fingers linked with his. When he settled back onto the sofa, you sat on his thigh, just like you had done on the barstool. 

"Is this better?" you asked, your lips brushing against his while you ran your fingers through his hair. Your cheek was nudging his glasses, and honestly, he was just as aroused as he had been when your hand was stroking him. 

"Yeah," he managed, and your mouth and his met in the best kisses he had ever felt. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually you were straddling his hips, and his hands were wrapped around the backs of your bare thighs.

"That feels good, Bobby," you whined as he stroked his thumbs along your perfect, soft skin. Your lips found his neck, sucking and licking him, and he had to work hard to fight the urge to buck up against you. He could feel you occasionally rub yourself against the open zipper of his pants, and each time he was afraid he was going to finish before anything really began. 

He didn't know what to do now. Was he supposed to ask you if you wanted to move to your bed? Was he supposed to tell you it was okay to touch him anywhere? Was he allowed to touch you anywhere?

When he eased his hands up along your butt only to determine that you weren't wearing any underwear at all, you kissed him hard. And then you slid from his lap so that you were kneeling on the floor between his spread thighs, and Bob watched you lick your lips. You reached for his pants and underwear and guided them down his legs while you smiled softly at him. When his hard cock was just inches from your lips, he got nervous again. But then your mouth was on him, and he had never in his whole life felt anything this amazing. 

You kissed his tip before parting your lips and sliding your mouth around him. He grunted, hands fisted on his knees, veins bulging in his arms. You moaned softly as you wrapped one sure hand around the base of him, and he throbbed with need for you. 

"You're really big," you whispered, pausing to kiss along his length, nudging him with your nose. He tipped his head back against the couch, praying that he wasn't going to embarrass himself after ten more seconds in your hand. When he felt your tongue lick his entire length from his balls back up to the tip, he snapped his head back to attention to watch you take the bead of his precum onto your tongue. 

And then you smiled again as he gaped at you. "If you don't like it this way, that's okay. You can tell me what you like best," you whispered before turning your head slightly to kiss his left fist where it was balled up and shaking on his knee. "And you can touch me if you want to."

Bob swallowed hard and then immediately blurted out, "I've never had a blowjob before."

You stared up at him, brow creased in confusion, pretty lips pursed. He could feel his face flushing, he was probably bright red. You were still stroking your thumb along his penis as you cocked your head to one side. 

"What do you mean? Never?" you asked softly. 

He shook his head back and forth in short, jerky motions, and he was so embarrassed. He thought maybe he should just leave. He shouldn't have even come home with you. "Never."

Then your face relaxed a bit, and you kissed his tip one more time before climbing back onto his lap. Bob relaxed his fists and wrapped his arms around your waist as you sat with his hard cock at attention between the two of you. But you didn't look bothered by anything now as you asked, "How old are you, Bobby?"

He swallowed hard and met your eyes, "I'm almost thirty."

You nodded and kissed his nose. "Have you had sex before?" you asked softly, pressing your lips to his cheek. 

"Yes," he replied, melting into the feel of your fingers and lips on him. "I've had two girlfriends."

"Okay," you told him, smiling before you kissed him. "So here's the deal, Bobby. I really like you. And I'd really like to give you a blowjob. If you want me to. And then I'd really like to take you to my bedroom, and I don't care if we just cuddle and talk, but I want you to stay with me all night. And then we can go out for breakfast. And then we can go out again after that if you think you like me as much as I like you."

This time Bob leaned forward to kiss you. "I'm nervous that I'm going to embarrass myself."

You laughed softly. "How do you think you're going to embarrass yourself?"

He let his gaze wander all over your face before he looked down at the couch cushion next to his thigh. "You know... I'm not going to last more than a minute."

Your soft sigh as you ran your fingers along his penis had his gaze snapping back to yours. "Oh, Bobby. I don't care about that." Then you bit your lip for a beat before you added, "It's kind of flattering, getting to do this for you. If you want me to. And if you cum really fast...well, we can try it again later. But that would be flattering, too."

He nodded his head, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek as he said, "Okay."

And then you were kneeling between his legs again, and he ran his fingers along your cheek while you stroked him with your hand a few times. "Ready?"

Your mouth was warm and wet, and Bob was treated to the feel of your tongue swirling along his length. It was the best thing he'd ever felt. Until you sucked on him. "Oh my god," he gasped, watching your pretty eyes as you looked at him. When you started to move your mouth up and down his cock, he laughed softly. "You're amazing."

You moaned while he was deep in your mouth, touching your throat, and he could feel his entire body start to tighten up. He wanted to panic, but then you bobbed along slowly, and he could only feel pleasure as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your head. And with one more swipe of your tongue, he was ejaculating right into your mouth. 

He couldn't formulate words as he grunted and watched you suck on him and swallow his cum. When he touched your throat as you swallowed him down, he groaned softly. 

"Was that okay?" you asked before licking up a little more cum that dripped out like it was a treat for you. Your hand was still wrapped around him, and you were treating him like a lollipop now, and he already wanted you to give him another blowjob. 

"Yes," he managed to say, feeling quite boneless on your couch as you giggled. 

"I liked it, too," you assured him. "Let's go to my bedroom." You pulled him to his feet, and somehow his brain recovered the knowledge of the mechanics of how to walk. He pulled his underwear and pants up as you led him along. He barely had a chance to look around your room before your hands were gently undoing his shirt buttons. And then you undressed him down to his white briefs, running your warm hands along his biceps and shoulders with a look of awe on your face.

Bob wouldn't say he was self conscious exactly; his body was strong, and it did everything he needed it to, because he took care of himself. But he wasn't as handsome as Hangman and Coyote, and he wasn't as muscular as Payback and Rooster. But you didn't seem to have an issue with anything you saw as you folded up his uniform and then pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. 

When he reached for your dress, you bit your lip and immediately said, "My body isn't perfect like yours."

"Perfect?" he mumbled. You thought he looked perfect? That was impossible. You were so close to perfection, he still couldn't believe you'd even talked to him at the Hard Deck in the first place. And with each additional time he looked at your face, he was certain you just got prettier.

"Yeah," you told him as you ran your fingers down his flat abs and then along the waistband of his underwear. "Perfect."

But you looked up at him and reached for the hem of your dress before you pulled it up your body and over your head, dropping it on top of his uniform and kind of shrugging. You were completely naked now, and Bob hadn't been prepared. At all. He started stuttering at the same time his cock started getting hard again.

"I th-think... wow." He took a deep breath and started over again. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"So smooth," you whispered. And then Bobby was in your bed as you reassured him that it was okay to just snuggle with you under the warm blanket. So he pulled you against the front of his body, and he was the big spoon as you kissed his hand.

He was sure you must have been able to feel the press of his erection against your back, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead you asked him all about himself, and you told him stories, too. And after a while, Bob's hands grew a little bolder, drifting over the soft skin of your belly and hips until it sounded like you were begging for him. Soft little moans filled the space while you whispered his name. He wasn't sure what to do next, but you rolled over to face him and started to kiss him. 

Yeah, this was really good. He liked this immensely. He liked the way your hands on his bare skin made him feel safe and grounded. He liked how you were going slowly again, because when you finally reached down toward his cock, he was ready for it. 

"Wait," he whispered, pushing you gently onto your back. "May I do to you what you did to me earlier?"

"Yes," you whispered, slowly spreading your thighs apart as Bob nodded. He'd done this a few times before. He'd liked it in the past. But when he put his lips on your slick slit, he moaned in pleasure which made you moan as well. He liked the way you tasted and smelled, and when he licked your opening, you were already gathering the sheets in your fists. 

That seemed like a good sign, so he just kept going. At each encouraging sound or gasped word from you, he went harder and faster. Soon you were loud. Like very loud. You were propped up on one elbow watching him. And you had one leg draped over his shoulder, heel digging into his back as you whined, "Bobby! You've done this before!" You were rolling your hips up against his face, nudging his glasses. 

When he slowed his movements to reach up and removed them, you gasped. "Don't you dare! You leave your glasses on!" Your eyes were flashing with need, and Bob did exactly as he was told. 

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered with a smile as he returned his mouth to your pussy. He licked and sucked until you were yanking on his hair and riding his face, and then you came with your back arched, whining his name so loudly, he thought your neighbors could probably hear. 

"Bobby!" you gasped before collapsing back on your pillow. And just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any better, you took his hands in yours and ran them along your breasts. "Kiss me," you demanded, and so he did. You licked his lips clean while he squeezed your breasts, and soon he was tasting you there as well. 

You were alternating between pulling him up to kiss your lips and pushing him down to kiss your breasts, and really there was no bad option for Bob. He could probably do this all night if that's what you wanted. But you seemed to want more, because you rolled him onto his back and pulled his underwear off in one swift motion.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that you don't have any condoms with you?" you asked softly, kissing his bent knee. 

He shook his head, but at least he was pretty sure he wasn't blushing any longer. "No. Sorry."

"I have some," you reassured him. "But... I don't know if they're big enough." You scooted off of the bed and walked out of the room, and Bob got a little apprehensive. He didn't know his size could potentially be an issue? He didn't even know he would be considered big. 

But when you walked in a minute later, tearing open a small box with a smile on your face, he felt better. Bob tried to roll on a condom, but it broke immediately. "It's okay," you said with a laugh, trying a second one which also broke. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a laugh. But you managed to get the third one on him successfully.

"I'm on the pill anyway," you told him. "You know, in case this one breaks, too."

"Alright," he whispered against your lips as you straddled him and guided your pussy down around him, inch by inch. You kissed his lips and cheeks and neck, running your fingers through his hair as you set a slow, steady pace.

But Bob was almost immediately stammering and blushing. "It feels too good," he told you, but you silenced him with your kisses and went a little harder. You felt so tight, so perfect, and you were letting him touch you everywhere. Your breasts were soft, and you were arching your back, pressing yourself into his hands. 

"You feel good too, Bobby," you promised him, grunting softly as you rode him. He let his hands slide slowly down your sides until they were on your hips, and that was a mistake. Because he could feel the motion of your body taking his. He could feel the roll of your hips against his palms.

"It's too good," he groaned, and then he was coming inside you. "Sorry," he whispered, panting against your shoulder as his pleasure washed over him. 

"Don't apologize for anything," you told him, riding him with slower movements until he was breathing like normal. 

"I just want to be better for you," he promised, and when you adjusted his glasses for him, he smiled. 

"We have all night."

Bob frowned at you. "Can we have longer than that?"

You looked down at him with parted lips. "If you still want to?"

"I thought we agreed we were going to date," he said. "Breakfast is one thing, but I thought we could do all kinds of stuff together. Hang out and maybe I could be your boyfriend after a week or two."

Without another word, you kissed him. And you didn't stop kissing him. And late night turned into early morning, and there were a few more experiments with the condoms. And a few without. 

And instead of ever making it to breakfast, Bob ended up treating you to lunch instead. He wore his wrinkled, day old uniform that you insisted looked adorable on him while he sat with his arm around you. And then he took you to see his place, which consisted of lots of snuggling and another blowjob. 

"My friends are asking if I'm going to the bar again tonight," he told you, running his fingers along your arm as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

"Do you want to go?" you asked, pressing your lips to his neck.

"Only if you come with me."

And when Bob strolled into the Hard Deck again on Saturday night with your arms wrapped around his waist and your voice in his ear, he just smiled at the looks he was getting. It didn't matter if he thought he was as handsome as Hangman or as strong as Payback, because you kept assuring him that you thought he was. 

You spent another evening touching and kissing him, perched on his leg and laughing. And he made plans with you for the following day and the following weekend and the one after that. He wouldn't be surprised if he was making plans with you every day for the rest of his life. And he would let you name the golden retriever. 

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

I wonder what the dog's name will be. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

@theamuz

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[lannisterdaddyissues]

@malewifebillcage has been bugging me about posting my traditional doodles for forever and @calkale said yes when I asked if I should post these so. Uh. Here's a bunch of tom cruise related doodles from the last few months that have just appeared in between school and comms hehe

speaking of comms, I'm raising funds for my study abroad trip over the summer, all comm info is found here if you're interested in supporting me that way!! (and it's also on my carrd with more examples here) :)) thanks for the interest!!

[mickandmusings]

professionally mrs. floyd

word count: 1.7k

pairing:

robert 'bob' floyd x f! reader

desc:

bob was no stranger when it came to days that were neverending. his job was stressful, his nerves shot by the end of every shift with the navy. so his home became his place of peace, perfect for a moment of solitude, thanks to the one person he always made sure to come home to-his wife.

when his wife has a less than satisfactory day at her own job, he makes sure to return the favor, and perhaps ensure that she never sees a day quite so bad again.

author's note:

none! more of a blurb than an imagine, just something short and sweet to get me back on my feet :)

for @fraaaaankiiiiieee

you know i love you and all your ideas, and your love for this bespectacled wso. thanks for being my forever cheerleader. <3

-

If there was anyone who was well accustomed to long days and short nights, it was Lieutenant Robert "Bob" Floyd. He woke early every morning, long, long before the sun would rise. He'd drearily shuffle into the bathroom and straighten his hair, brush his teeth, and don his khaki uniform. He'd kiss his still sleeping wife's forehead, grab the lunchbox she'd packed the night before off the counter, and be out the door before the first birds chirped in the morning.

His day at work would not be any less laid-back. He'd sweat through his flight suit in the backseat of a multi-million dollar aircraft, putting his trust entirely in the dark-haired pilot in front of him. (Not that he ever doubted Phoenix. Well, at least never to her face.) Bob had never had a weak stomach, it simply wouldn't fair well with the job he had, but sometimes his teammates maneuvers made his heart rate spike with stress. By the time he walked off the tarmac at the end of the day, he'd be thoroughly exhausted.

He'd arrive home in much the same fashion-the sun sinking steadily, soon to be replaced by the moon. He'd be well past worn out, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled in, but he'd still gather enough energy to greet his ever-doting wife, scarf down a warm dinner, scald himself in a hot shower, and fall asleep on the couch while attempting to catch up on the show he watched with his wife. Once she convinced him to finally come to bed, he'd hardly take the time to shove his glasses on his bedside table before crashing against his pillow for the short hours of rest allotted before he'd have to repeat the whole process over again.

It was safe to say that he was no stranger to a day that never seemed to end.

His wife, however, the eternal optimist she was, often found her days less harrowing than her husband's. Today, however, was not one of those days.

The day had started with asinine complaints-the bed had been a little too cold without Bob next to her, lacking the incinerator-level heat her husband's body always radiated. She'd groaned and hid her face back into his pillow, still smelling of his ridiculous 3-in-1 shampoo from the night before. How his hair was so incredibly soft despite the monstrosity that was that hygiene item was beyond her. The smell of his lingering body wash had lulled her back into sleep, the true source and start of her no good, very bad day.

She was so fast asleep she hadn't heard her alarm blaring, not until she was already ten minutes over the time she was supposed to be leaving the house. She'd panicked, racing through their bedroom in a flurry of already tangled nerves. Realizing quickly that Bob had forgotten to start the dryer the night before, all of her work clothes were still damp and unwearable. It was nothing to truly be angry about, they'd both been tired the night before, heading straight to bed without much care about anything else other than hitting the sheets. She'd trudged through with her less comfortable work clothes, the ones that itched if she moved a certain way, but it would be fine. It totally wouldn't become a minute thing that toppled her over the edge later in the day.

Right?

She thought little of it as she grabbed her water bottle and her lunch container off the counter, not even noticing the sweet note Bob had left her on top. In her rush to get out the door, she'd neglected her morning coffee, and, without meaning to, missing the other sweet post-it her husband had left on the machine next to her favorite mug. Bob was always leaving small actions of his love for her, something she adored about him. Unfortunately, her mind was more focused on the passive-aggressive comments her boss would give her for being late.

She'd already hit the rush hour traffic miles before her workplace, already ready to simply pull over on the shoulder and call it quits before she even gave her breakdown a moment to form. Swallowing down her already bubbling emotions, she pushes through and finally pulls into the parking lot of her workplace.

Naively, she had hoped things would start to look up from there.

She had, of course, been wrong.

Her boss' comments had indeed been backstabbingly biting, the coffee machine at work was out of order, her shoes had begun to rub blisters on her heels, her backup work clothes had become grating and her work was monotonous. By the time the clock hit five, she wasted no time in being the first to leave, responsibilities be damned.

She raced through the roads leading back to the home she shared with Bob, caring little about the possibility of a speeding ticket. She needed only one thing-her husband. She knew he likely wouldn't be home for another hour after her, but it would give her ample opportunity to have her dramatic breakdown before he came through the threshold of their front door.

To her surprise, however, her husband was already home. He'd already traded his stiff uniform for an old sweatshirt and some sweatpants, padding around barefoot in the kitchen. He was standing at their stove, the aroma of something savory filling their home.

"Hey, darlin'."

That accented voice she loved met her ears, already causing her bottom lip to wobble. She couldn't even respond with her usual sweet sentiment, too afraid she'd burst into a pile of tears.

"You're home early."

She redirects the conversation. She sees his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Uh, y-yeah, baby. I told you I was, left a note on the coffee pot this morning."

His wife's shoulders completely slump, bringing a hand to her eyes, furiously trying to avoid the tears that burn. She'd been in such a rush she'd neglected it completely. She felt guilty. He'd woken up early enough in his already incredibly early morning to write her little notes, to fill her water bottle with the fancy pebble ice she loved. Small actions to show he was thinking of her, that he cared.

"Bobby, m'sorry, I just-"

That was it, she was done for. One scalding hot tear falls down her cheek, and suddenly a tsunami of the others follows. Bob's eyes go wide, dropping the mixing spoon in his hand in favor of scooping her up in his arms.

"Hey, hey, shh, s'okay."

This wasn't the first time he'd ever had his wife sobbing into his shirt, and likely wouldn't be the last. Bob was an incredibly patient and understanding man, it wasn't something he'd hold against her. For some time, he just let her get her emotions out, let them fester forward to get that burdening feeling off her chest. He'd learned years ago that the method proved effective, she'd talk when she wanted to talk.

It only took a matter of minutes for her to do just that.

At most it was incoherent babbling over tears, but it was a language Bob had learned after several years of marriage. She just wanted to be held, to be listened to. So he did just that-his calloused hands caressing her sides as he listened to her incredibly distressing day. But Bob was also a man of action, always ready to fix a problem, and he instantly knew how to resolve this one. As his wife carries on about her 'asshole' boss, he stops her. Not meaning to interrupt, simply getting his thoughts out.

"So quit."

She looks up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, letting out a dry chuckle.

"Very funny, Floyd."

"M'not joking, Floyd," he retorts back, his voice entirely serious. He runs a hand across her cheek, pushing back a strand of hair from her face. "I make plenty for both of us. We've got everything we need on my pay alone. Got the insurance, the house...baby, the only reason you have to keep working is because you want to."

She simply looks at him as if he had sprouted an extra limb. Had it truly always been that simple?

"Plus," he raises an eyebrow under his thick lenses, that all-knowing smirk painted across his face. "If we decide to go through what we've been talking about, 'could work to our advantage, won't have to pay for daycare."

He gives a shrug, as if it was nothing. They'd been discussing the idea of kids for the past few weeks. For the first time in the entire day, his wife gives a genuine smile, a hint of a laugh crawling across her face. Always trust in Bob to see the bright side.

"Trying to get me as your housewife, Floyd?"

Bob feels a faint pink blush paint his cheeks, but grins.

"Is it working, Floyd?"

She can't help but erupt into a genuine laugh, falling against her husband's chest, finally content after a taxing day. She thinks for a moment-as if she even needed a moment to decide-before placing a soft kiss against his jaw.

"I think I can handle that, being professionally Mrs. Floyd."

Her comment makes Bob's own laughter fill the otherwise quiet air.

"Let me finish dinner and we'll write that two weeks notice together. But-"

He cuts himself off, lifting her with ease onto his shoulder and trekking her over to plop her onto the chair of their breakfast bar, pulling off his own hoodie so she can wear it instead of the uncomfortable looking work clothes that adorn her frame.

"-as your new boss, I'm ordering you-,"

He slips the itchy blouse off her arms, sliding the hoodie on in replacement.

"-ordering you to sit there and let me take care of the rest. And look, you're doing great already. Star employee."

He kisses her head, squeezing her side before going back to the stove. She felt her shoulders relax, that heavy weight on her chest eliminated. This she could get used to. No rushed mornings or hectic days, just leisure, soft days with a man who held her above anything else, as if she hung the moon and stars each night.

"I love you, Robert Floyd."

Bob smiles widely, crossing back over to her, hands on either side of her face.

"Going full legal now, are we? I love you more, Mrs. Robert Floyd."

-

[attapullman]

During a visit in a sex shop A spots a weird toy. B suggests purchase as a joke. Little do they know A seriously wants to use it. With Bob?

this ask 🤝 my sleep deprived brain 🤝 hc that bob floyd is a little freak

18+ to be able to go on this ride

Drabble Day

It’s hard to tell which is more bright: the cherry red dildo you’re holding or the tips of Bob’s ears. He’s a prude by no means, but you slapping the silicone cock around to test the bounce has him flustered beyond belief.

“Can you please stop swinging that?” His gentle hands come up to stop you, but your grin grows evilly as you duck his hold. 

“You’re the one who wanted to get a gag gift for Jake’s bach party. I want to make an informed purchase!” He rolls his eyes at you and hesitantly glances at the store clerk for the umpteenth time. The college kid reading Frankenstein and eating chips hasn’t even noticed you’ve entered the store.

Walking further down the aisle, taking in the array of brightly colored cock rings and butt plugs and vibrators, you’re overwhelmed with options. If this girl is marrying Jake you want to get her something he can actually use in the bedroom. You’re already planning several funny size puns to put on the card.

As you weigh the pros and cons of a cheekily named ‘My First Bondage Kit’, you suddenly realize you’re in the aisle alone. No pink-eared husband in sight. “Bob?”

Hidden behind a display of sex swings, you find him standing in the ‘specialty’ toys. Glossy eyes lost in rapture, you expect him to be clutching the holy grail when he holds up what has caught his attention. But instead it’s a thick multicolored dildo, covered in rows of suckers and deep grooves, glowing brightly in his hand. The Tenta-Cock, the sign says.

“Sweetheart, that thing is the size of me. You’re going to scare Jake if you show up with that in a gift box,” you giggle. You admire his commitment to the joke, but a pair of nipple clamps was more than enough. His eyes drag away from the thick suction base and skim up your body, tongue darting out to wet his lips as your eyes connect. 

The weak flutter of his chest under his tshirt says it all.

“Not for Jake.”

You cock your head at him, stepping closer. The monster cock practically shines in his grasp. For such big hands, his fingers barely fit around the hefty base. Even the narrow tip of the tentacle is wider than your thickest vibrator.

Head fuzzy and heart pounding, the poor clerk isn’t prepared when you hastily shove The Tenta-Cock their way and your credit card. You can feel the air moving behind you as Bob twitches his dexterous fingers, anxious to get home. Jake’s gift is completely forgotten as you’re handed a plain paper bag that barely fits under Bob’s jacket. 

The speedometer in Bob’s truck is ten over the limit the entire drive home. You don’t reprimand him. Every minute away from the privacy of your bedroom is one too many.

[ihartcrunchygrapes]

okay so if im honest, im a total idiot when it comes to using tumblr as a writing platform, but would yall want a bob floyd oneshot/fic bc im up for it if yall are!!😭😭

i don’t do smut, (my apologies, i lowkey love reading it tho) but im more than happy to write a fluff 👍👍

[buckys-estrella]

WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (thank you)

i think he also enjoys summer nights, especially when it rains. he’ll make some tea and curl up with a book, his corgi asleep at his feet

omg and you become a regular at his bookstore bc he’s so adorable and you try to get his attention by asking for book recommendations

and he thinks ab you often now, waiting (not so) patiently for the next time you come around and keeps a stack of books behind the register that he thinks you’ll like

GOD IM SICK OVER THIS

robyn pls, I need to know more about librarian bob NOW

Oh do you mean the thought I fall asleep to every night?

Works in a small, quiet library. It’s pretty much just him and his one other co-worker but he likes it that way.

He keeps to himself. Has a corgi at who he ADORES and that’s who he goes go home to.

History major who builds model airplanes in his spare time and can’t even look pretty girls in the eye without going beet red when they check out a book!

[withahappyrefrain]

Unraveled- Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,

Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible. 

He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell,  he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that.  He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar. 

So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop? 

All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing. 

He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one. 

Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that. 

That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him. 

Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door.  You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves. 

And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.

“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine. 

“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes. 

But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night. 

This was bad. 

“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.

The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work. 

“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck. 

“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room. 

"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke. 

"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down. 

"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday.  It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you. 

But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship. 

So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough. 

But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote. 

The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and- 

he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and- 

Oh God he was hard. Oh no. 

This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it. 

But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans. 

Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows. 

He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.   

Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink. 

What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious. 

His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make  your own family. 

Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.  

School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath. 

Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly. 

He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then. 

“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different. 

The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-

Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together. 

“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch. 

Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts. 

 It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed. 

“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse. 

“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen. 

For a few seconds, the  supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach. 

Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen. 

But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point. 

“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect. 

“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life. 

“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”

You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow. 

The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn. 

"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.    

"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-" 

"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen. 

The words hit Bob like a freight train. 

"What? Why would you-"

You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?” 

You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?" 

Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you. 

The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him. 

Oh god, he was a fucking idiot. 

The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant. 

“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”

“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other. 

Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.” 

The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up. 

“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?” 

His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it. 

The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”

Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?” 

You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his. 

Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone. 

The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again. 

You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap. 

A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk. 

Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more. 

“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest. 

Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass. 

Wait, he was about to touch your ass. 

“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face. 

“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?

“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”

Bless his heart. 

Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”

Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.” 

His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes. 

“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core. 

“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty. 

“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck? 

Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams- 

“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open. 

Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.” 

A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings. 

Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face. 

“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating). 

Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life. 

There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you. 

His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd? 

Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?

“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement. 

“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully. 

Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control. 

“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath. 

You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.

His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side. 

Fuck, you were wet. 

If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream. 

When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time. 

With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure. 

Wait, was he grinding against the couch? 

The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud. 

His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening. 

“Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.

Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now. 

You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority. 

“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even. 

“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you. 

“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you. 

“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.” 

Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you. 

Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons. 

Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock. 

His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-” 

“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter. 

Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it. 

“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more. 

By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before. 

“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch. 

How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait. 

“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans. 

Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected. 

Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion. 

“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words. 

“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.” 

Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this  was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob. 

Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience. 

“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”

“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?

There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving. 

Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”

Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton. 

“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest. 

“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment. 

Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you. 

So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."

Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter One

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol

Chapter summary: Y/N meets Bob's squadron, and encounters someone she thought she'd never see again; the Daggers celebrate Jake's birthday where he and Y/N have their first conversation after the one night stand

Masterlist here

You were late. Bob was going to kill you. Your brother was a stickler when it came to being on time. It came as no surprise to anyone in your family that he had gone into the military.

You rushed through the door, purse strap getting caught on the handle and you tugged it free, chest rising as you spun around, searching for Bob. He stood in the corner of the coffee shop, pristine in a khaki uniform, eyes wide behind his wire glasses. 

“Hi Ducky,” he said as you tossed yourself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. He felt like home, even though it had been years since you and Bob had lived under the same roof. You had been barely a teen when Bob left for the Naval Academy, and his stints on land were far and few between after. His assignment to Top Gun was the first time he had settled somewhere on a more permanent basis. It’s why you decided to move to San Diego after college. All of your friends had scattered around the country – grad school in New York, policy analysts in Washington, even one friend had taken an internship with an art dealer in Miami. But you had packed up and left Tennessee with one goal. Be closer to your brother. 

“Bobby,” you grinned, stepping back to admire him. Every time you saw him it was months apart and so much had changed, but also so little. He was the same Bob who had thrown you over his shoulder to win the family flag football game on Thanksgiving. The same Bob who had carried your book bag for you when you were in elementary school and he was a middle schooler and went a mile out of his way every morning to make sure you got to your homeroom class safe and sound. The Bob who always picked up, day or night, when you called. The Bob who listened to you weep about your college boyfriend who broke your heart. The Bob who took care of you when you were seven and had the flu and your mom was working a double shift at the hospital and couldn’t stay home with you. 

“Ducky,” he said, dropping your hands. The familiar nickname on his tongue brought forward a flood of memories: spring weekends flying kites in the nearby park, sitting on the back of a tandem bike with Bob on a trip to Florida to visit your grandparents, the fort the two of you made the one time it snowed two feet in Tennessee in under a day in March. “This is my squad. Guys, meet my sister, Y/N.” 

You tore your gaze from Bob, looking over at the table he was gesturing to, a smile plastered on your face. A beautiful brunette with pearly white teeth and a tight bun was on the far left. That was Phoenix. You had received a handful of letters from Bob talking about her. Next to Phoenix was a handsome, bulky man with a mustache in a plain blue t-shirt. Wow, he was gorgeous. 

Your eyes shifted over one more, breath halting in your throat as your gaze slowly crept up. First you spotted the dog tags. Eerily familiar, but then again, a lot of military guys wore dog tags, right? 

Then the chin. Ridiculously cut jaw, slight bifurcated butt chin that you had found weirdly adorable two nights before. Plump, pink lips, puckered up in a grin. You felt your heart sink. There was only one thing left. You raised your eyes to his. Clear, seafoam green. An ocean in two small orbs. He smiled as you screamed internally. 

Bob’s voice drew you out of your coma. “That’s Bradley.” The mustache man waved a hand. “And Jake Seresin. Hangman.” 

Jake. Your stomach did a somersault. 

Last time you had seen him, you had been teetering on the edge of drunk, standing outside of the bar with one hand on the railing, the salty ocean wind licking at the sweat on your collarbone, flicking the ends of your hair up against your chin.

The next moment, his tongue was on your throat, in your mouth, fingers in your hair, pressing your body against the railing of the deck as you whimpered into his lips. 

You had crept out of bed before he woke up. Just a gorgeous, tan, muscular back sticking out beneath crisp white sheets as you tugged on your short dress and called an Uber. You had expected to never see him again. 

And here he was, smirking at you as your brother’s gaze narrowed. 

You had fucked up. Correction. You had fucked Jake Seresin. And that was a major fuck up. 

***

Bob had never been the type to have a huge friend group, or any close friends really. So the first time he called from Top Gun, giddy with excitement, you had been elated for him. Your brother deserved a tightly knit friend group.

Before you had moved to San Diego, Bob had filled you in on the group’s antics. Their flights, their wild nights out, the dynamics. But he had centered mostly on Phoenix and Rooster. 

Jake had conveniently been left out of the majority of the conversation. 

“Well?” Bob asked as the two of you headed back to his house in your rental car. “What do you think of the group?” 

“They’re nice,” you said. 

“That’s it? Nice?” 

You sighed. “I’m really happy for you, Bobby. You have a good group of friends. I know that’s what you always wanted.” 

Bob leaned back against the seat. You were the one person that Bob confided in. He was an open book and you could read him with one glance. Looking over, you spotted his furrowed brow, the tense way he was squeezing his knuckles together. 

“Are you OK?” you asked, turning your eyes back toward the road, slowing down to take a right turn. 

“Tell me you didn’t move here for me.” 

“Then I’d be lying.” 

“Y/N,” Bob said. His voice had taken on Big Brother™ mode. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t you want me around?” you whispered. 

“Of course I do,” Bob replied. “I just don’t want you to waste your life following me.” 

“Living in California a waste?” you asked. “No way.” 

“What’s the plan, Duck?” 

“Not everyone was born potty trained and with a plan, Bobby.” 

“You’re twenty-three,” he countered. “It’s time to be an adult and figure out what you’re doing with your life.” 

“You sound like mom.” 

“And we both know she’s never wrong.” 

You sighed. “Just because you got your life together at seven doesn’t mean I have to.” 

“Duck—” 

You cut him off. “Bobby, please. It’s been a week. Give me a little time and I promise, I'll figure out what I’m doing. Just be my brother, OK, instead of acting like my dad.” 

That silenced him. Bob had taken your father’s disappearance harder than you had. He put on a brave face. He stepped up. He became the man of the house. But that meant that he had taken it upon himself to be your brother and your dad. So even at twenty three he still saw you as a child. 

The two of you drove the rest of the way back to Bob’s house in silence. Inside, you were just about to close the door to your guest bedroom when Bob’s voice floated down the hall. 

“By the way,” he said, “I told the squad we’d go out for drinks with them tonight. It’s Jake’s birthday.” 

You grimaced. “Sounds good.” 

“Leave at nine?” 

“Sure.” You closed the door, plopping down on the bed face first. You had moved to San Diego to figure your life out. And of course the first thing you had done was have a one night stand with one of Bob’s teammates. If he had been anyone else in the world you would have been able to avoid him. 

What do you get someone for their birthday when you hoped you’d never see them again? 

***

“Floyd!” 

You turned at the same time as Bob. Bradley grinned. “Oh this is going to get confusing.” 

“Here.” Natasha pointed to the bar stool next to her. “Have a seat. Boys will get you a drink. Bradshaw?” 

Bradley tipped his head. “On it, ma’am.” 

She rolled her eyes as you settled into the seat, crossing your legs beneath the short skirt. “So, Y/N. Bob’s told me all about his little sister. But he left out that you were coming to live here.” 

“I’m not much of a planner.” 

Phoenix laughed. “The anti-Bob. I like you already.” 

“He’s told me a lot about you,” you replied. “And Bradley.” 

“And nothing about Jake I’m guessing?” You nodded and Phoenix took a sip of her beer. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to even go there.” 

“Are you speaking from experience?” 

Phoenix craned her neck around, making sure the two of you were out of earshot before nodding. “Just steer clear of him. That’s my suggestion. Hangman is fun for a night. But things get messy quick. And he and Bob have a little bit of a history.” 

You frowned. “What kind of history?” 

Just as Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, Bradley pressed a beer into your open hand. “Ducky.” 

You grimaced. “Bobby, you didn’t!” 

He shrugged. “Sorry.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m so going to eat your last Pop-Tart tomorrow just to get you back for that.” 

“Fill us in, will you?” Phoenix asked. 

“When she was four, Y/N became obsessed with those little yellow rubber ducks that you put in your bath.” You groaned as your brother recounted the full story. How you had thrown a fit when your mother had tried to take you out of the bath and the only thing to calm you had been to fill your bed with the rubber ducks. And how the next morning that continued, one rubber duck gripped firmly in your chubby hand as you ate breakfast, went to the park, tagged along to the grocery store, went to daycare. This continued for weeks. 

You didn’t want to admit to the team that you still had a rubber duck stuffed inside your suitcase back at Bob’s house. It was a safety net of sorts. 

“Sorry, Duck,” Bob said, squeezing your shoulders and placing a small peck on the top of your head. 

You looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he had a massive grin on his face. He was happy. All you had wanted in as long as you could remember was for Bob to be happy. He took your happiness more seriously than his own. It was time you returned the favor. 

“Am I interrupting?” All eyes turned to Jake. He had on a tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with cowboy boots peeking out the bottom. He shot a grin your way and you did your best to avoid his eye contact. 

“Happy birthday, Hangman.” There was a chill in Bob’s voice, or perhaps you were reading into it because of what Phoenix had said earlier. 

Jake nodded. “Thanks, man. Anyone up for a game of darts?” 

Bob dropped his hand from your shoulder, following Phoenix and Jake back toward the darts board on one end of the bar. You sat back in your seat, tipping the beer down your throat, watching as they played. There was an easy banter with all of them. 

You finished your beer, the darts game still ongoing. Quietly, you slipped around the edge of the room, out the door that led to the back deck. 

It was quiet outside, just the sound of the waves crashing against the hard sand and the soft hum of the music as it seeped through under the door and from behind the old windows. You laid your fingertips on the wooden railing, tipping your head back toward the moon that was slung low in the sky, feeling the cool breeze dry the sweat that had started to form on the base of your neck. 

“Mind if I join?” 

You turned. Jake stepped out onto the deck, a beer in one hand. He approached the railing, putting the green bottle down and smirking over at you. This time you were far less drunk. You shrugged. “It’s your birthday. Who am I to say what you can or can’t do?” 

He frowned. “Don’t be like that.” 

“Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean you know me.” 

He looked bristled. “Y/N. I had no idea you were Bob’s sister when we met the other night. If I had known, I—”

“Wouldn’t have fucked me?” 

He grimaced. “You’re the one that left without saying anything.” 

You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not like you were falling over yourself to drive me home. It was better that way and we both know it.” You allowed yourself to look up. God, he was stunning. Green, wide eyes. Tanned skin, the way his forearm flexed as he gripped the railing. You could remember the way his touch felt as he dragged his fingertips over your skin. You tried to shake the memory from your mind. “Just do me one favor.” 

“Sure.” 

“Don’t tell Bob,” you whispered. “Let’s just forget the other night ever happened.” 

Jake’s gaze lingered. “If that’s what you want.” 

You pushed up off of the railing. “It’ll be better, trust me.” You headed for the door, turning around at the last moment. Jake was still leaning against the railing, watching the waves in the dark. “Jake?” 

He turned, green eyes wide. There was something almost sad about him, you thought. It was a fleeting glimpse, but you saw it. 

“Happy birthday.” 

He smiled. You turned, peering through the glass on the wood door. Bob had his head thrown back in a laugh as Bradley pounded against the piano keys and Phoenix danced. You smiled. Your brother was happy. 

You weren’t going to ruin his perfectly crafted life by saying you had slept with one of his friends. It would be easier for everyone if you and Jake Seresin pretended you had never met before. 

How would they ever catch you in your lie? 

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[cherryblossomcowgirl]

Hangman’s Ghost

WC: 4.7k

TW: Trauma, injury, angst, cursing, mentions of blood, PTSD

Hangman x reader; Bob Floyd x sister!reader

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I drive along the coast with the windows down, taking in a deep breath of the ocean air. Camp Pendleton had technically been my home for the last 2 years, but back to back deployments had kept me far away from California.. and my brother. Bobby had been so excited when I got stationed near him. I haven’t seen him since he helped me move into my apartment 2 years ago. I call when I can. He’ll send an email here and there. I’ve never been to his house, but he sent me his address years ago. When I landed stateside, I decided it would be my first stop. There’s a few cars at his bungalow, so I park my truck in the street and walk up to the door. Music is blaring and realize he can’t hear the bell, so I walk in the front door. “Bobby?? Bobby?!” There’s a handful of people standing around drinking and Bob’s head pops out from the kitchen, “Y/n?” I run over and he wraps me in a hug, “You’re home? You’re home! I haven’t heard from you in months!” He pulls back and punches my arm. I nudge him, “Sorry, work stuff. Drove here straight from the airport.” Bob turns down the record player and motions to everyone in the living room, “Y/n this is the Daggers, Daggers this is Y/n.. my little sister.” There’s scattered “Hello”s. Bob grabs me a beer from the kitchen, “Where’d you fly in from?” “Germany.” He raises an eyebrow, “Thought you were in Africa.” I shrug, “Pit stop.” “A pit stop for somebody special?” I roll my eyes, “No Bobby, just work.” I take off my flannel and tie it around my waist, causing Bobby to gasp, “What have you done to your arms?!” “Bobby, they’re called tattoos. Calm down.” He rubs his forehead, “The whole being jacked thing, I get. The gym is your ‘You’ time.. but sleeves? Why didn’t you tell me?” I laugh, “Because I knew you would react like this. But look right here..” I point to the inside of my bicep. His eyes get watery, “Our hometown.” “Oh so you just memorize coordinates now?” He smiles, “Only those.” “Yeah, me too.” He hugs me, “I’ve missed you.” He rejoins the group in the living room and I follow. Everyone seems very nice. Natasha is chatty, Bradshaw is goofy, Payback and Fanboy are a bit more to themselves. I excuse myself and head to the restroom. I hear a commotion that sounds like someone else has arrived. When I walk out into the hallway, I see a tall man with blonde hair. He turns around and his green eyes pierce mine. My heart drops into my stomach. I feel the blood drain from my face. “Ghost?” He says, barely above a whisper. My eyes scan and see Bobby in the living room, paying no attention. I meet his green eyes again, pleading, “Not here. Not now. Please.” He nods and rejoins the group. I sit on the couch, fighting my brain as it takes me back to that day. I can smell the smoke. I can hear the explosions. Bobby sits beside me and throws an arm around my shoulders, “We are gonna walk down to the Hard Deck, wanna join?” “Sure, I slept most of the flight anyways.” He smiles and I follow the group down the street to a little beach bar.

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“Penny, this is my sister Y/n. She just got in from Germany!” Penny smiles, “Welcome home! What can I get ya?” “Beer please.” She pops off the top and hands me the bottle. I follow Bob to the pool tables and he chuckles, “So you’re a beer drinker now?” “Can’t be very picky in the desert.” He nods in agreement and picks up a pool cue. I sit back and sip my beer. Hangman keeps an eye on me all night. The beer is barely helping calm my nerves. Bobby and his friends seem to be pretty far gone at this point and the bar keeps getting more crowded. I tap Bob’s shoulder, “I’m gonna get some air.” He nods and continues playing darts. As soon as I open the back door, the smell of ocean hits me. I kick off my shoes and head down to the sand. The water is cold on my toes. The sound of waves takes me far away from my thoughts. “Ghost?” I turn and meet those green eyes. “Hangman.” His brow furrows, “Bob doesn’t know, does he?” I shake my head. He pauses for a minute and then rests his hand on my shoulder, “Are you okay?” I look at the stars, trying to stare at anything but him, “I’m fine.” I can hear the concern in his voice, “Ghost, c’mon.” Shrugging his hand off, I turn to him, “Don’t call me that here. I’m just Y/n here.” He nods, trying to hide the hurt in his eyes, “Okay Y/n, I’m Jake.” His hand extends and I take it. I am immediately taken back.

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FLASHBACK

*”Marine! Grab my hand! I’m gonna get you out of here.” My eyes are trying to focus but the chaos around me is making it impossible. I grab the hand in front of me, meeting a warm and steady force. I am pulled up, instantly feeling horrible pain in my leg. “Don’t look down, look at me. Look at me. What’s your callsign?” I blink the dust and debris from my eyes, and find the bright green eyes of my rescuer. My throat is sore but I croak out, “Ghost.” He smirks, “Howdy Ghost, the name’s Hangman. Let’s get you on the plane.” He throws my arm around his shoulders and takes the weight off of my leg completely. He is calm. Steady. I am holding onto his hand like my life depends on it, which right now it does. My vision keeps going in and out. He squeezes my hand three times, sending a wave of comfort over me. A distant explosion brings me back to reality. “Did they get out? On the bird? Did it work?” Hangman nods, “They’re back at base.” He lifts me into the plane, strapping me in. I’m still going in and out, watching him start up the engine and take off.*

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“Y/n, you okay?” I open my eyes and I am sitting in the sand, Jake’s jacket around my shoulders. You can see the worry in his eyes. I take a breath, “Sorry, yeah. Yeah I’m good.” “You know it is fine if you aren’t. Did you see it again?” I nod, “Yeah. It’s your damn eyes.” He smirks, “I would change them for ya if I could.” I smile and wipe the tear that was forming in the corner of my eye, “Bobby didn’t tell me his squad deployed to Africa.” “We didn’t.. I volunteered. Bob didn’t tell me his sister’s a Raider.” I slide his jacket off and hand it back to him, “We don’t really talk about it. Usually just tell him where I’m going. Can’t really tell him what I’m doing.” He sets his jacket beside him, “How’s your leg?” “You already know the answer to that.” Jake nervously chuckles, “And what do you mean by that?” “When I woke up, the nurse asked me who the hottie was that camped out in the hallway. She also said you stayed by my bed for a while after I got out of surgery.” I scan his face and notice a slight blush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, “You didn’t have any family listed. I didn’t want you to be alone.” The sincerity of his tone surprises me. How could a complete stranger care so much for me? I gently place my hand on top of his, staring straight ahead at the ocean, “Thank you. For everything.” His hand turns to grab mine, then he squeezes it three times. I pull away quickly and look at him, “You’ve done that before. What is that?” He takes my hand again, “My Mom always did that growing up. Anytime she could tell I was nervous, she’d grab my hand and squeeze it three times. Like a.. I’m right here.” He squeezes my hand three times again, searching my face for a response. A tear spills over and falls down my cheek. He wipes it, his hand lingering for a second. I take a breath, “I tore all 4 ligaments in my knee. Most of the cuts were superficial.. some needed a few stitches. I stayed in Germany for a bit to start rehab there. They say the artificial ligaments are practically indestructible.” “Do you get to go back to your unit?” I smile, “They told me take as much time as I need and my spot is there when I’m ready.” Happiness lights up his face and he throws his arms around me, squeezing tight, “I’m so proud of you!” Part of me is taken aback by his words and his hug. Part of me is overcome with the same feeling of warmth from the day that we met. When he pulls away, heat rises to his cheeks yet again, “I’m sorry. It’s just the last time I saw you.. I didn’t know what would happen.” “Don’t apologize.” I grab his hand, squeezing it three times. His grin speeds across his entire face.

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It’s been a few weeks since the night Jake followed me down to the water. Before I drove home, he gave me his number. “In case you need anything.” Every moment of that night replays in my mind.. constantly. Work has been slow. I go in, do physical therapy, and then do paperwork. Bobby has visited a couple times. Each time I want to tell him about that mission, but I can never get it out. It haunts my dreams. The most random noise takes me back. I don’t know how to tell him. He invited me out tonight, but my knee is aching from rehab today. I told him I was tired and he didn’t press me any further. The sun sets and I light a few candles. I settle in on my couch with a book, turning off my brain and escaping into another reality.

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I sit up in a cold sweat. My heart is racing and it is hard to breathe. Before I realize what I am doing, my phone is ringing and a voice immediately answers, “Y/n?” Jake is met with silence. “Are you okay?” I try to find the words, but I can’t. My breathing is shallow and quick. I hear keys jingling and his voice lowers, “Send me your location.” His phone dings, “On my way.” “Thank you.” Comes out, barely above a whisper.

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Jake throws his arms around me as soon as the door opens. After a minute he hooks his finger under my chin, pulling my face up towards him. “What happened?” I sniffle, “I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have called.. it’s so late and you were probably busy..” His palm moves to my cheek, his thumb caressing me gently, “Don’t ever apologize. Tell me what happened.” “My dream just felt so real. When I woke up, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even realize I was calling you until you answered. I’m sorry.” His thumb wipes a tear falling down my cheek, “I dream about it too.” I look up at him, “Really?” He nods, “I don’t usually fly those planes. Base got a call and I was the only reserve pilot. It was hot going in.. then I found you. Disoriented. Bloodied. Yet all you wanted to know was if your team was safe. I don’t know what happened before I got there, but that doesn’t stop the nightmares.” I stare at him, taking in what he said. He was scared.. for me. He dreams of me. He just drove here, no questions asked, for me. I clear my throat, “Do you want a drink?” He smiles, “Sure, unless you want me out of your hair.” “Jake, you drove all the way here to check on me. I’m not going to just kick you out.” He follows me to the kitchen and I hand him a beer. We settle in the living room and he looks around, “I think your place is more empty than mine.” I chuckle, “Hey, getting furniture was a big step for me.” “How long were you deployed?” “That one was back to back, so 20 months.” He almost chokes on his beer, “20 months?!” “Yeah. When we weren’t working we were at the gym or getting tattoos. Not much to do out there.” “Bob mentioned the tattoos. Looked like he was going to faint.” I laugh, “And now I’ll need to cover up my leg too. Sure he will love that.” Jake looks at my legs, only to see sweatpants, “You want to cover your leg?” I sigh, “Believe me, it doesn’t look pretty.” “I don’t believe you.” A blush rises to my cheeks as I roll my eyes, “Yeah everyone thought Frankenstein was pretty, right?” “Y/n, c’mon. You don’t look like Frankenstein.” I stand up and he grabs my hand, “Wait, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I shake my head, “Stay here. I’m going to show you so you understand.” When I get to my room, I throw on a pair of pj shorts. I look in the mirror and wonder why I am showing him this part of me. This part I try to keep hidden. This part I can’t even tell Bobby.

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When I walk out, Jake is still sitting on the couch. I stand in front of him, “See? Not pretty.” He stares at my leg, placing his hand gently on my lower thigh. His brow furrows as he traces my scars lightly with his thumb. I realize that I am shaking. It could be from his touch, or how vulnerable I feel in this moment. Or both. His green eyes meet mine, “You were right. It’s not pretty, it’s beautiful.” I try to hide my blush, “You think so?” He nods, “Yes ma’am. You lived. Each one of these is proof of how resilient you are.” My eyes water, “Can I tell you something?” “Anything.” “When you’re around, this wave of comfort just washes over me.” He grabs my hand a squeezes it three times, “Me too, Y/n. Me too.” I sit down beside him and rest my head on him, “Is this okay?” He wraps his arm around me, “It’s perfect.”

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The sun shining through the living room window wakes me up. Jake feels me stirring and yawns, “What time is it?” I check my watch, “06:00.” He chuckles, “I think we got a little too comfortable on the couch.” I sit up quickly and brush my hair out of my face, “Usually takes me a lot longer to sleep with a guy.” His eyes widen and he lets out a laugh that is deep and full of life, “Well then, I feel special.” Heat rises to my cheeks and my phone rings. I take the call in the kitchen, sighing as I hang up. “I’m sorry Jake, I have to go in for rehab in an hour. The therapist is out of town this week and I can’t get behind on sessions.” He grins, “Don’t apologize. Call me if you need anything?” I shrug, “I don’t know, what’s the protocol for how long to wait to call after sleeping with someone.” Jake laughs so hard his eyes water, “I don’t even know. How do you think I got my callsign?” I act shocked, “Well, you better not Hangman me. Once my leg is better, I could totally take you in a fight.” He hugs me goodbye and I watch him walk to his truck. There was something about the sleepiness in his eyes. The messiness of his bedhead. Somehow, it made him even more attractive. I hop in the shower, wondering what he is thinking about as he drives home.

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Two weeks pass without speaking to Jake. Work got busy and Bobby called to say he got sent to a training for a couple of months out of state. I wonder if he feels weird about the night on the couch. The only thing that is weird to me about it, is how natural it felt. As if it were just a normal thing for us to do. It’s Friday night, and some guys from my team want to go out. I suggest the beach bar I went to with Bobby and the squad. Partially because I loved the stretch of beach it is on, but mainly because I hope Jake will be there. I wonder if I should text him, but I don’t know if that will sound desperate. I don’t even know if he is thinking about me how I am thinking about him. Nonstop. Honestly, in an all consuming manner. I find myself being picky with my outfit, even doing my hair and some makeup. I know the guys will make fun of me, but what if I see Jake? I hop in my RAM and head to the bar.

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As soon as I swing open the doors, the guys yell, “Ghost! Over here!” I smile and walk towards the dartboards, “Playboy, Hellfire, Backstreet, and Cullen.. where’s Ice?” Playboy hands me a beer and rolls his eyes, “With his lady.” I raise my eyebrows, “Same one from before or..?” He laughs, “Of course not.” We play a few rounds and I keep scanning the bar for Jake. Cullen nudges me, “Who are you looking for?” “No one.” He rolls his eyes, “Come on, share with the class.” I shrug, “Just a friend. That’s all.” As if on cue, Jake and the Daggers walk through the doors. I blush and look away, throwing a dart. After a few minutes I hear that southern drawl, “Y/n! What brings you here?” I turn and meet Jake with a hug, “Hey! Team wanted to go out and this is the only place I know so far.” He smiles, “Well it’s a good one.” Cullen clears his throat and I hit his chest, “So Jake, this is the Team. Cullen, Hellfire, Playboy, and Backstreet. Missing one, he prefers to go out with his lady of the week.” The guys laugh and Jake smiles, “Nice to officially meet y’all, I’m Jake.” Hellfire points, “Wait a second.. you’re Hangman! You flew Ghost back from the mission.” Jake nods, “Yes sir, that was me.” Hellfire wraps him in a hug, and the rest of the men follow suit. Jake looks confused, but Playboy breaks the silence, “Thank you. I don’t know what we would’ve done if she didn’t make..” Jake pats his shoulder, “No need to thank me. She’s a fighter, that’s for sure.” I clear my throat, “Does anyone else need a drink? I need a drink.” The guys shake their heads but Jake nods, “It’s on me, darling.” The pet name sends heat through me. He puts his arm over my shoulder as he guides me to the bar. Penny greets us with a big smile, “Look who it is! What can I get you two?” Jake orders our beers and as we wait he leans down to my ear, “I forgot that your team is all handsome, tall, jacked, and tatted dudes. I met them for a second before we switched planes off at base.” I laugh, “Well, they can’t all be beautiful, short, jacked, tatted women. It just wouldn’t be fair.” He chuckles and I tiptoe up to his ear, “You don’t have to worry. Tatted dudes aren’t my type.” He raises an eyebrow, “What is your type?” I tap my finger on my chin, pretending to think, “Handsome, tall, jacked, tan, good smile. What about you?”He smirks and grabs our beers, “You know, funny you should ask. Recently I found out something about myself, I think tattoos are very attractive on a lady.” I playfully nod, “Hmmm yes very interesting take.” We head back to the dartboards, laughing our asses off.

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The Daggers invite us to play pool, so we grab our drinks and join them. As the night goes on, Jake gets more and more affectionate with me. Subtle touches to my lower back, tucking my hair behind my ear. Each touch comforts me. Each touch excites me. My team has been watching him closely all night. Jake goes to grab another drink and Backstreet sits beside me, “Okay, so that isn’t just a friend.” “Oh shut up, yes he is.” “Ghost, do you see any of us touching you like that? Hell, do any of us even look at you like that?” I think for a second a shrug, “We’re just close, okay? He is one of the only people who understands what happened to me.” Backstreet nods, “I’m not trying to discredit that at all. I’m just saying that it seems like more than just someone who understands what happened that day.” Cullen calls him back over to take his shot and Jake hands me another beer, “Here ya go, darling.” “Thank you. Seems like everyone is becoming friends, huh?” He looks around, “Yeah. Look at that.” His green eyes meet mine and I smile, “You know, you didn’t have to buy my drinks all night.” His hand settles on my thigh, “I can’t let a pretty lady pay for her own drinks. Wasn’t raised that way.” I shake my head, “You are something else, Jake.” I excuse myself and wander over to the bathroom. As I head back to the group, I see my team talking to Jake. When they notice me, they separate and continue playing pool. I stand beside Jake and nudge his arm, “What was that about?” “Nothing.” “Oh c’mon.” He chuckles, “Just that they’ll kill me if I hurt you.” I sigh, “I am sorry. I’ll yell at them. They’re such idiots.” He shrugs, “It’s okay. I’m not planning on hurting you.” Silence surrounds us, the weight of whatever we are hanging in the air. Cullen comes up and hugs me, “We are gonna head out. Need a ride?” I shake my head, “Y’all be safe tomorrow, okay?” They all nod. I watch them walk out, knowing they’re flying to another country tomorrow for a mission. Without me. After taking a breath, I check my watch, “I should get going. Did you drive?” Jake points to Bob and laughs, “He’s the driver tonight.” “Do you want me to drive you instead?” He smirks, “Let’s go.” We get in my truck and I hand him my phone, “Here, type in your address.” He does and hands it back, “You gonna walk me to the door too?” I chuckle, “Maybe. Only if you play your cards right.” We pull into his driveway and he turns to me, “Want to come in?” I nod and follow him inside.

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The house is slightly more decorated than mine. I sit on the couch and Jake comes out of the kitchen with 2 beers, “I like your team a lot.” I smile, “Yeah, they’re pretty great. They were keeping an eye on you.” He laughs and sets his free hand on my thigh, “I saw.” A burst of energy flows through where he touched me. His eyes scan my face, smirking at the reaction to his touch. I know I need to talk to him about this, but I don’t know how. I was never girl that boys liked. When I wasn’t reading, I was playing whatever sport was happening that season. Jake clears his throat, “What kind of movies do you like?” I think for a second, “Thrillers.” He pulls one up, “This just came out, wanna watch it?” “Sure! I heard it’s good.” For the first few minutes, I sit rather awkwardly. Jake grabs us a couple more beers, but when he sits back down he inches closer. He hands me a blanket, “Here. Get cozy.” I take it, smiling, and lean my head on his shoulder. I can smell his cologne, it has notes of bergamot and cedar. My breaths are deep, trying to take in every bit of his scent that I could. His right hand slides under the blanket, resting on my lower back. These moments feel so exciting, but so natural. As if it has always been this way. The movie is great, and Jake laughs when it makes me jump. His thumb is tracing circles on my back. A scene freaks me out, so I bury my face into his neck. He chuckles, “Darling, after all of the things you’ve seen I can’t believe this is scaring you.” I huff, “When I am in civilians, I am just a girl.” We both laugh and he pulls me in closer, “I didn’t know that was the way that worked.” I nod, “Oh yeah. I can’t kill spiders. If I hear a noise at night, I will freak out. Oh and I am terrified of snakes.” He looks down at me, smiling that million dollar smile. “What?” “You’re adorable.” A blush creeps up my cheeks and I shake my head, “Not usually a word people use to describe me.” His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips. The green of his eyes grows darker as he slowly moves closer. We are a breath away from each other, frozen in a moment of uncertainty. He raises his hand to cup my cheek, “Is this okay?” I nod, leaning in to his calloused hand. Our lips brush each other and he whispers, “And this?” Words are nowhere to be found. I whimper and his eyes grow so dark, you can barely see the green. Jake’s lips crash into mine. His lips are soft. All I can hear is my heart pounding. One hand is exploring my back, while the other tangles itself in my hair. It feels like our bodies are melting together. His tongue explores my mouth, all the tension that has built up between us spilling over. We finally break apart, catching a breath, staring at each other. A smile spreads across Jake’s face as he pulls my head into his chest. I listen to his heart, beating fast and loud. “Y/n?” My eyes meet his, “Yeah?” “I think I’m in love you.”

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He scans my face for a reaction. I blush, “I think I’m in love with you, too.” His hands find to my hips, moving me to straddle his lap. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his bone structure. He looks like he was sculpted and should be displayed in a museum. I notice a glassiness in his eyes, “What’s wrong?” He sighs, “When I found you.. I didn’t know if you were going to make it. I was staring at this beautiful woman, wondering how I couldn’t have found you before. When I left the hospital, I didn’t think I’d see you again. You haunted all of my dreams.” A tear falls down my cheek, “After the crash, your eyes were the first thing I could see.” He wipes a tear that fell, then his lips meet mine. This time it is gentle. Comforting. Filled with warmth. The movie ends and I check my watch. 02:00. Jake groans, “No don’t look at that. Then you’ll want to leave.” I giggle, “I don’t want to go home, but it’s 02:00.” He pulls me in, “Please stay.” “Okay, but you need to give me clothes because I can’t be in jeans for another minute. We laugh as I follow him to his room. He pulls out a Navy t shirt and hands it to me. I gasp, “You’re evil.” Jake smirks as he turns around, “Oh stop fussing.” I put it on begrudgingly. He turns around, “I don’t think you’ve ever looked better, darling.” “Soak it in. Next time I’m bringing my own pjs.” He raises an eyebrow, “So there will be a next time?” I roll my eyes and climb into the bed, “Oh hush, get over here and cuddle me.” “Yes ma’am.” He pulls me into his chest and I fall asleep listening to his heartbeat.

[obeymeluv]

Octavinelle w a Southern!Reader? A lot of the pet names and the common phrases are pretty affectionate and soft, so I think seeing the more composed bunch get exposed to such a sweet reader would be cute!

Before we begin, two notes: 1) I will also be playing with the creature traits of the Octo Trio as I see fit. 2) I personally call the three "Corelians" because they're from the Coral Sea. I am from the South so hopefully I answer this to your liking, haha. Sweet is a loaded term to me. Sweet is both the first taste of wispy cotton candy dissolving on your tongue and the sugar-coated demise of 'Oh my god, this is so good! I should really stop. Ah, fuck it. I'll deal with it later,' knowing you're going to complain about the miserable overload in an hour. If you have any kind of serving/retail/waitressing experience (especially in the south), you'll also know that 'sweet' is kill them with kindness and scream in the walk-in when you can't kill them for real. As for the Octo Trio? Have some random blurbs :)

Two of Azul's three hearts are sent cartwheeling and quivering when you so much as look at him! He doesn't know what to do with you! You're...you're so nice! In truth, he doesn't get you because he can't seen an ulterior motive or an end game. Part of the reason he can't understand you is because there IS NO END GAME. How does that work? He doesn't understand it. The only thing he understands is that your many ludicrous pet names make him writhe and wiggle and question the efficacy of that damnable lander potion! Surely they wouldn't cheap out on quality and compromise the future of a bright, young entrepreneur, right? He can mock them all he wants, his face smushed into his hand, but it doesn't stop his cheeks from reddening. You made him disgustingly warm inside and he has to use short words before the ink starts to pool in his mouth (the tweels noticed that and take great joy in it). "Yes, they're all so terrible. Terrible enough to make you rant," Jade muses as they settle into a brief respite with tea before opening the Mostro Lounge for the afternoon. "Frequently." "More like say 'em in the mirror as a pep-talk," Floyd boots the door open with a mocking laugh, gold eye shining as he flops down on the couch. He effortlessly catches the spill, much like he'll flip an omelet without looking, and keeps his eyes trained on Azul like the prey he is. Azul felt the heat rise in his cheeks and his chest. His feet untangled themselves subconsciously as his reduced limb-brains tried to figure out which one was close enough to bop Floyd. Jade leaned forward and pressed the cup handle against his palm to quash the punching instinct and remind the limb it was full. He snorted, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. "Isn't that right, sugar dumplin'?" Floyd flashed a toothy smile at him as Jade stuck an empty pen in his mouth to stop him from drooling ink into his tea. Floyd knew that one was his favorite.

---

The Corelian-Land Exchange Program prepared him for a lot of unique human experiences but didn't prepare Floyd for you. But that's to be expected because there is no chapter on 'dimensional strangers' in the curriculum. He's constantly having to remind himself of things like less resistance on land so the fights are in his favor. Or that he's not as fluid when he turns and those pinky thingies hurt like a BITCH and he doesn't see why he can't just cut it off because it HOOKS ON EVERY FUCKING THING. He also has to remind himself that hunting instincts are rude here. You don't stalk people, you meet them. But you're just so nice and bob along! It almost seems wrong not to keep an eye on you, what with how small you are. That's what he tells himself, anyways. He doesn't know quite how to describe it but your sweet words are funny with their little dips and drawls. They call him like something shiny and give him this burst of energy that makes him want to fling his long limbs out and twirl like a whirlpool. You can tell when he needs encouragement and aren't afraid to clamp up and be cold when he doesn't deserve any coddling. You call yourself a southerner and he's not quite sure what you mean because you have no home here and no one knows what direction your home is in. You and the apple-toting Guppy are a lot alike but Floyd doesn't get the same kind of feelings out of following him or plopping an arm down on his head. Matter of fact, the last time he plopped an arm down on Guppy's head, Guppy put him between some tree roots with a fancy shoulder toss Beta Fish taught 'im.

But when he does it to you? It's always different--just like him. Some days it's linking your elbows together and joking that he's stuck with you now. Other days you just wrap an arm around his middle and hug him for a few seconds where his cold-blood self squirms in the warm casing being incubated by you. On the rare and very amusing occasion that you aren't in the mood when his arm touches your head, you give him a warning smile before nipping at him. It doesn't hurt, honestly. Hardly enough to feel through fabric. Nothing at all to a Corelian predator. Cute for trying, though. He doesn't dare tell you that his blood can make humans sick.

Floyd just leans down and grins at you, ignoring the bit of fabric in your teeth, and whispers 'My turn,' just enough to show you all his glistening, pointy teeth. You always let go and he always bites air, but his legs are damn near knotting themselves together in glee at the thought of you letting him mark you for real. You scurry down the hall as Jade weaves himself between the students, following the scent of his many emotions. Landers had a theory about twins being connected; that's one of the first things he learned about them. Jade didn't see the whole scene but seems to know enough.

"Morays are opportunistic cowards at best, my dear brother. Don't feel bad." Jade gives him a closed-lip and a closed-eyed smile. And just like that, like when they were elvers, he and his brother are tangled and biting.

----

Jade knows it's a baser instinct to keep an eye on someone not like him. Not only from a safety standpoint but in the vein of him being the perceived threat to your...benign. He can't help but laugh and see you as soft when you're trying to hide your ragged gasps for breath as he turns to observe your footing on the incline. He was more comfortable in his lander form now and thought this would be an easier trail for you to navigate, coming from a foreign land and all.

Perhaps he was wrong.

But still, to see you struggle and flush, to see your hair come undone just a touch as you begin to glisten is quite a sight. It reminds him all over again that you're human like these landers on Sage's Island but you're not one of these landers, exactly.

You're the only one of your kind. The rarest of rare specimen.

You push up the incline, fixing your hair as you breeze past, and excitedly point to a patch of greens Ruggie told you about before. They are edible and coming home with you! You know how to prepare them!

Something ugly and gnashing wells up in Jade. Makes him want to suck the little Savanaclaw mongrel up in his pharyngeal jaws but he doesn't have them in this form.

Mmm, but he's thinking about the wrong jaws, isn't he? A bit rude to be thinking about his. It's best to put nutrition in yours. Yes, yes, that's very good. Jade's smile almost twitches as his back spasms where one of his more active fins would be. "Greens are a bit of an insult compared to the bounty of the Mostro," he lets you slide down the incline with barely a pull as he grinds his walking stick into said patch of greens. "Though no less important. Come, I'll even make you tea." "But what about the hike? It's only been, like, thirty minutes!" Most of that was waiting on you to traverse the terrain, but still! Jade didn't even have a single mushroom to show for it! Jade prides himself on his composure and quick wit. Here lately he's been applauding himself for holding onto all of it--any of it--around you. You have no magic but seem to do something akin to his signature spell. "There's more moisture in the air," he grips his walking stick and surprises even himself with the smooth stumble of his words, "there's rain coming. I can smell it." That did sound plausible to your lander self. He could see you contemplating it. Was it really going to rain? Who knew. The weather on Sage's Island was as unique as it's occupants. Your relent is reluctant but Jade pays that no mind as he stamps down an errant root and taps your foot politely away from it. "What a gentleman!" you tease, kind needling almost costing you a face full of green leaf from a bent tree. He chuckles as you bat the leaves from your face in a fit of self-preservation.

The flailing really is quite adorable.

You huff at his laugh and stomp almost petulantly after him to the flat and familiar of Sage's Island, the impressive point of the college a mere smear in the distance. After a near twenty minute walk, you change generously in Mostro Lounge's bathrooms (as in: Floyd annoys Azul enough to keep him unaware) and clean up enough to meet dress code, cramming your hiking things under the table. Floyd catches you, you both know. He knows the deal. What you don't know is that he waits for you to bat your eyes at him like you'll inevitably do and he revels in it. Mostly because his mushroom-huffing brother doesn't know what to do when you do that, but he thinks your eyes are pretty too. Jade coughs into his hand.

When that doesn't get the desired result, he gently turns you into your side of the booth and seats himself. There's a bristling only known between brothers and those who have a territorial bone in them. Floyd smirks and checks his brother's fingers for signs of webbing or claws. "What're ya havin'?" Jade lets you order first, of course. He orders next, not even bothering to grab a menu Floyd didn't offer. "And for drinks?" "That's supposed to be first, brother dear." Jade smiles. "Actually, appetizers first." he snorts. "I'll be making her some tea, actually." Jade excuses himself and walks in-step with his brother to the kitchen. "Makin' time for tea but no time for truth, heh?" Floyd's eyes are suddenly sharp and Jade growls. Jade realizes this is an unsafe situation as there are many knives around them. He's just as keen with a pot if it's all the same. The thought crosses his mind. "Gonna feed her before ya confess? Seems I'm not the only one who does things out of order, huh?" "I am providing." Jade hisses, opening his mouth wide.

"Best remember to provide some dish pit time because you owe me." Floyd taunts. "I covered your tail and got your little lander love a table!" In that moment, Floyd doesn't know why he turned his back. It felt good, maybe? Felt right for the moment? All he knew is that one hand full of menus didn't do anything against a hefty grab to the back of his neck as he was almost shoved into the hot water part of said dish pit. "How much time would you like?" Jade mused, bracing one arm against the other as he leaned his weight into his brother.

"Ah shut up and go make your leaf juice!" Floyd tries to nip him as he wriggles beneath his brother, only one set of shoes fit for the kitchen. Satisfied, Jade relents. It may cost him somewhere down the line but in this moment he's happy. Happy and put together and providing. Just for you.

[rootedinrevisions]

Masterlist: Top Gun Maverick

This list is all about the thrill and tension of Top Gun: Maverick. Most of my writing here dives into the cocky charm of Jake "Hangman" Seresin, but you’ll also find some pieces centered around Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, with more stories potentially featuring characters like Robert "Bob" Floyd in the future.

Whether you're into Hangman’s swagger, Rooster’s heart, or curious about the rest of the Top Gun crew, there’s something for every fan of the high-flying action and drama. Strap in and enjoy the ride! ✈️ (UPDATED 12.1.24)

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN

**DRABBLES (Under 1k words)**

Five More Minutes (Jake x Reader)

You and Jake are headed to The Hard Deck to meet the daggers, but a few things risk making you late.

**ONE-SHOTS**

Everything to Me (Jake x Reader)

You arrive in San Diego, eager to spend the weekend with your fiance, Jake Seresin. What begins as an emotion reunion soon takes a complicated turn when you encounter a jealous pilot who's had her eyes on Jake for awhile. A comment she makes, sparks insecurities that challenge your confidence. However, Jake makes it his mission to remind you that you are the only woman he has eyes for. SMUT.

The Rough Side of Hangman's Girl (Jake x Reader)

You’ve always been the quiet one, the kind of girl who prefers soft laughter to loud crowds, and gentle touches over wild passions. But Jake “Hangman” Seresin has a way of drawing out the side of you no one else gets to see. When he steps into your world, he doesn’t just turn your life upside down—he pushes you beyond every boundary you thought you had. Now, with his intense gaze and unyielding hold, you find yourself craving every rough touch, every whispered command. SMUT.

Since Forever (Jake x Reader)

After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur. ANGST. FLUFF.

**SERIES**

Rooster's Shadow (Jake x OC)

When Carly Bradshaw, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw’s younger sister, starts college near her brother’s TOP GUN base, she’s excited for a fresh start. A surprise night out with Rooster introduces her to Jake Seresin, the charming and cocky Navy pilot known as Hangman. As Jake’s attention shifts to Carly, their undeniable chemistry leads to a series of flirtatious encounters that challenge Carly’s feelings and Rooster’s protective instincts.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5

Cop Car (Jake x Reader)

You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It's all fun and games until the two of you end up cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell arrives on the scene. Loosely based on/inspired by Cop Car by Keith Urban because apparently my thing lately has been making fics out of songs.

PART 1 I PART 2

Unplanned Journeys (Jake x OC)

You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW

**ONE-SHOTS**

The Night We Fell (Bradley x Reader)

After a night out with friends, you find yourself a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home. When Phoenix calls Bradley to pick you up, what starts as a simple favor turns into an unforgettable evening. Amidst drunken giggles, lingering glances, and unspoken emotions, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. FLUFF.

Rooster Comes Home to His Girls (Bradley x Reader)

Bradley returns home from a deployment to his girls...his wife and infant daughter. FLUFF.

Let's Find Out Together (Bradley x Reader)

After a painful breakup, you turn to Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, your longtime friend, for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense, unexpected connection that blurs the line between friendship and something more. Now, as the sparks fly, you're left questioning everything you thought you knew about love, friendship, and passion. SMUT.

To the Sky and Back (Bradley x Reader)

After a falling-out with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, reader tries to piece her life back together, avoiding every place and routine that reminds her of him. But when Bradley faces a high-risk mission, a visit from Natasha "Phoenix" shatters her fragile peace, forcing her to confront the depth of her feelings. With Bradley’s life hanging in the balance, she must decide whether to risk her heart again and let him know just how much he means to her before it's too late. A story of love, loss, and second chances, To the Sky and Back explores the courage it takes to hold on to what truly matters. ANGST. FLUFF.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW & JAKE SERESIN

**ONE-SHOTS**

Between Us Three (Jake x Reader x Bradley)

What begins as lighthearted teasing at The Hard Deck quickly ignites into a night of new experiences as you and your boyfriend, Bradley, invite Jake into an unforgettable night of passion, play, and vulnerability.

No Nut November...or Not (Jake x Reader x Bradley)

When a harmless bar conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you–their mischievous partner–who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month as impossible as humanly possible. Because why should they get to have all the fun? SMUT.