#robert floyd fic

[the-shedevil-writes]

Victoria's Secret (Bob Floyd x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: After a teasing comment from Hangman plants the idea, you drag a flustered Bob into Victoria’s Secret, delighted, while he’s blushing every shade of red. But once you’re back home and slipping into the set he picked out, things heat up fast. WORD COUNT: 4.6k WARNINGS: SMUT. P in V. Praise kink. Lingerie (duh). But also very fluffy. Domestic fluff. Making out. Bob's a little desperate/worships. NOTES: This is technically a part 2 to Build-A-Bear but you don't need to read that to understand this one.

MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

When did the Dagger Squad not tease Bob? Especially now that he was bringing his girlfriend around. He always looked much more put together fashion-wise when she was on his arm, and it was impossible not to tease him for it. After a day at the mall where Bob got to pick some outfits for her, he found himself in even newer territory. 

Hangman lined his shot up, clearly his turn. “Take the man to Victoria’s Secret next.” Rooster smacked him upright the head. “WHAT? I’m just saying. Every guy loves that.”

Y/n gasped with a smile, “Wait! That’s genius.”

Bob choked and coughed in shock, making the group laugh again. 

“You’re welcome,” Hangman smirked, shooting the ball.

She looked over at Bob with a mischievous smile. Leaning in, she whispered, “You’re off tomorrow, right?”

Once they got home, it was all she could talk about. They planned to go back to the mall the next day. And as they got ready for bed, she casually mentioned it a few times just to see his face go bright red. 

She got into bed in her typical bedwear- an oversized yellow shirt of Bob’s that she had stolen and a pair of plain black underwear. Honestly, she wasn’t much of a Victoria’s Secret girl. It was expensive for no good reason, and it’s not like it was going to get much use… But that was before dating Bob. Now there was somebody who could appreciate it- probably more than her. 

Bob got under the covers and looked over at her with a smile, excited to cuddle for the night. She scooched over to him and cupped his face for a kiss. He hummed a little surprised, but gratefully put his arms around her waist. 

But as he thought that she’d pull away, she instead pushed her lips forward as she started moving towards him more. She threw her leg over his hip as he sat with his back against the headboard. He sighed heavily within the kiss. It was a relief that they were finally home and alone after a long day at the mall, then The Hard Deck. 

“Mmm… you excited for tomorrow?” She asked 

“What’s tomorrow, baby?” He asked, confused. Did he forget something? A birthday? Anniversary? He was usually good at that, but now he looked up at her a little horrified.

“You get to pick some stuff at the store for me.” She said with a giggle.

He blinked and exhaled shakily. He nodded. “If-if you’re serious about doing it, then yeah. Yeah, we can go to uh- Victoria’s Secret.”

“You’re too cute.” She said, leaning in to kiss him again, pressing herself down on his boxer briefs.

He groaned at the pressure against him. The thought of it was incredibly hot, even though it was nerve-wracking all the same. He ran his hands up her spread legs and cupped her ass under his shirt. God, he was allowed to do this. She looked down at him wearing HIS shirt. He moved his hands to her hips and hooked his thumb under the bands of her current pair of underwear. The shirt bunched up so he could see her in all her glory. 

“These work very well too.” He chuckled

She smiled down at him with her messy hair, and he felt like he could die happy right then and there. 

“Mmmm… do they now?” 

He nodded, running his fingers back to her ass and squeezing. “Maybe I oughta appreciate them a little more.” 

He leaned up this time so he could kiss her and run his hands all over her back. As sexy as the idea of lingerie was, he didn’t know if anything could beat her in his shirt.

The next day, Y/n came out of the bedroom dressed in simple shorts and a white tank top. She needed something easy to change in and out of. She walked into the kitchen to find Bob dressed and cooking a quick lunch. Just some simple grilled cheeses before they headed out. He smiled at her and chuckled as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. Her cheek pressed against his back. He very carefully stepped back slightly so her arms weren’t near the stove.

“You ready?” He asked flipping the current sandwich.

She nodded against his shirt and when she laughed, he could feel the vibrations through his spine. “I think the question is if you’re ready.”

He put the sandwich on the plate once it was crispy and he held it out behind him. He was so used to these sorts of antics from her. She let go of his torso so she could hold onto the plate, then leaned back against the nearby cabinets.

Shaking his head with a defeated blink, he chuckled. “No. I’m not. I have no idea what we’re looking at.” He admitted, “I was already struggling just picking out a shirt for you last time, never mind… You know.”

“Oh, I know.” She said, smirking and taking a bite. “Thank you, baby. Tastes good.”

He smiled a little to himself as he started preparing his own sandwich. As nervous as he was, her confidence was very reassuring. At the very least, she could pick out something that she felt good in and he’d do his usual- following her around the store, confused.

“We’re gonna have so much fun.” She said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Getting to the mall, Bob’s hands were already sweaty. He wiped them on his jeans before taking hold of Y/n’s hand.

“I-I’m just gonna follow you around in there, okay? I don’t wanna seem like a creep in Victoria’s Secret.”

Her laugh was so loud and it made her head throw back. “Okay, so start pushing you away from me, got it.”

“Please don’t.”

She giggled and squeezed his hand as they walked through the pathway of the mall. It wasn’t nearly as busy as the day before, making it a slow Sunday afternoon. That reassured Bob a little bit. There wouldn’t be so many people knowing… exactly what they were doing. 

“Is this not weird?” He asked suddenly thinking about it.

“No. Girls make their boyfriends go shopping with them all the time.” She said confidently before looking back up to see his nervous face, “Trust me. You won’t be the only guy in the store. Maybe like… one of two.”

“Very reassuring.” He said sarcastically

They walked up to the pink-striped store, and she strolled in as if it was normal. It was normal. It was just a store. If Bob happened to roll through any other day, he wouldn’t think anything of it. But it was the fact that he was shopping for her. It was the fact that he was shopping for something that he was going to see her in later that made him blush. 

She led him through the aisles and mannequins. Bob was just more surprised by how loud the house music played. It made it so he could barely hear his thoughts. And the spaces within the store were somewhat difficult to walk through, especially at his height and stature. He felt awkward, not because of the bras hanging around, but because he felt like he was taking up too much space. He liked being invisible, and this was a moment where he didn’t feel like his usual fly on the wall. 

They walked up to one of the back walls that had the sets very nicely displayed down. She looked at them and let go of Bob’s hand so she could feel the material of a black lace bodysuit. It was almost completely see-through and rode up high.

His mouth was slightly ajar, and his brows were up as he suddenly didn’t know how to exist. The images in his head of her wearing something like that didn’t help. 

“This one’s nice.” She said, looking back at Bob.

He blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” He was straining to be normal. 

She put her hand to her mouth and turned away, giggling. Reaching out her hand again for him to hold, she tilted her head. “You okay?” 

He nodded, a little embarrassed. “I’m okay… I think overwhelmed would be a good way to describe it.”

“You fly up thousands of feet in the sky, and this store is overwhelming you?”

He shrugged, “Yeah. A little bit.”

She walked over and took his other hand as well. “You wanna go home? We can grab some pizza or-” 

“No! No-I-” He stammered a little too eagerly. “It’s just loud in here… And small.”

She chuckled and dropped one of her hands to lead him out of the narrow aisle of drawers. “You’re not really…” “The target demographic? I figured.” 

They both laughed, and Bob’s shoulders relaxed. They went back to eyeing the wall. She hummed along to the song playing and squeezed Bob’s hand. 

“Hmm… I don’t know. I don’t really buy these sorts of things.” She said

“And you think I do?” He joked with raised brows.

“No, but I do want your opinion, considering you know…” She suddenly lowered her voice, “You’re gonna be the one taking it off tonight.”

He let out a small groan, then immediately looked over his shoulder, terrified someone might have heard him. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

The wall was color-coded, so she moved away from black. Those sets were incredibly mysterious and sexy, but she felt like they were a little too much. She moved over to the blushes and pinks. She pointed to a light pink corset and matching thong. Flowers were embroidered all over it.

“That one’s quite nice.” She said casually

He tilted his head, almost confused. “That doesn’t… look very comfortable.”

“Oh, it’s not.” She laughed, “But it’s not like I’d be wearing it very long.”

He squeezed her hand to get her attention again. She looked up at him innocently, and he was trying to be serious, but it was hard not to seem flustered.

“I mean- You should be comfortable.” He said 

“I wear heels, and those aren’t comfortable.” 

“Yeah, and I end up carrying them for you by the end of the night because of the blisters.” He pointed out, “Especially since this is… something you’re kinda doing for me… I-I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

She smiled, “Okay then. How about this, I try it on. If it’s not comfortable, I won’t get it.”

“Deal.” 

They shook hands like complete dorks in this Victoria’s Secret. 

A few walls over, one caught Bob’s eye. A lace robin-blue babydoll top that was split down the middle with a matching cheeky bottom. It was pretty. But what intrigued him was the little ring of fabric that hung on the hanger. Then his face lit up.

“This one has a scrunchie for your hair. That’s nice.”

But when she let out a laugh so loud that some people looked over at them, he very quickly realized he was wrong. 

“Aw, sorry, baby. I wish. That’s a garter.” She said, “I get the confusion, though.”

“Oh-” He quickly said, remembering the few weddings he’d been to where the groom would pull it from the bride's leg. “Okay, that makes way more sense.” He chuckled.

“You think it’s pretty, though?” She asked, testing.

He nodded, “Yeah. I like the color. And the uh-” He reached out and touched the sheer babydoll fabric under the bra. “The… curtains.”

She tried not to laugh, but it was hard not to with how cute he was being.

“Okay, I’ll try on this one too.”

Grabbing a few different ones, she walked into the dressing room, and Bob took his place on the designated lone chair outside the rooms. After what felt like too long, Bob called out.

“You okay in there?” 

“Yeah! I’m halfway through.” His brows scrunched. “I don’t get to see any of them?”

“Bob, I’m not walking out into the store in underwear.” He was silent for a few seconds, realizing before he went.

“Yeah, actually, please don’t.”

Her laugh echoed, but he would very much prefer not to have anybody see her like that. He had been near guys who would show their girlfriends’ private pictures and videos. (It was always worse when they were stuck on carriers for months on end.) But he couldn’t imagine ever doing that sort of thing. Sharing it. He felt blessed to even be able to call her his girl, never mind betray her trust like that. Plus… he knew how lucky he was. He knew that other guys wondered how a smoke show like her was with human wallpaper Bob Floyd. So he’d rather keep his treasure to himself. 

Coming out in her normal clothes, she hid the options behind her back. 

“Which one are you getting?” He asked curiously, standing up.

“It’s a surprise.”

Oh, he didn’t know if he could handle the anticipation. Granted, any of the sets was surely going to send him into cardiac arrest. But he was so curious. He hated not being in the know. 

And with the mischievous smirk on her lips, he knew he was really in for it.

Bob sat in bed that night reading his book… Or at least trying to read his book. How was he supposed to focus when he knew she was getting ready in the bathroom right next to him? His eyes skimmed the words, but there was no comprehension. At some point, he had re-read the same page five times and was forced to recognize the blood flowing down to his member, straining. She wasn’t even in the same room yet. He hadn’t even seen her, and he was already half-hard at just the thought.

Meanwhile, Y/n looked at herself in the bathroom. She smiled as she finished applying some lip gloss, knowing it was gonna be gone in just a few moments. Turning around, she admired the set. The blue one that Bob had specifically pointed out fitted her perfectly. It also happened to be the comfiest out of all the options, which just meant it checked off all the boxes. 

She flipped and zhuzhed up her hair. Yes, she had taken the time to practically give herself a blowout. As much as this was for Bob, she also wanted to feel like one of the girls in the magazines and on Instagram. She wanted to look like a runway model. And with her hair done, makeup, and lotioned legs, she felt like one, which was all that mattered.

“Bob? You ready?” She called out.

“Y-yeah!”

His timid voice made her smile, and it calmed down her racing heart. It was just Bob. Bob, who would probably appreciate anything she decided to wear. Bob, who would always reassure her because he knew she loved words of affirmation. Her Bob.

She opened the door and walked out, legs first. Her arms stayed behind her back shyly as her hair bounced with each step. 

The look on Bob’s face couldn’t be replicated. His eyes bugged out of his head, and his jaw dropped. His face turned a shade of red that she had never seen before. He sat up and instinctively covered his lap with a pillow. Holy shit. He was going to die. 

She smiled brightly at his reaction, and that just made him release a little whine.

“Jesus Christ.” 

“You like it?” She stopped by the bed shyly.

His mouth closed, and he nodded fast with eager eyes. Even though he was completely frozen. But that just gave her more confidence. 

Suddenly, she crawled onto the bed and toward him.

“Oh, baby-” He practically whimpered, reaching out. But he didn’t reach for the material; he stretched and cupped her cheek. Looking deeply into her eyes. “What did I do to deserve all this?”

She sat on her knees as he did the same to hold her face. But she didn’t answer him. She didn’t know exactly what to say. There were a multitude of reasons. He treated her so well. He was her best friend. She enjoyed feeling pretty. But him holding her face and looking at her like she was a religious experience was probably the reason that exemplified everything. 

“So gorgeous.” He kissed her forehead, then pulled her in for a real kiss. 

It wasn’t hungry like she had assumed. It wasn’t rough or like he was going to be ripping the clothes off her body. His hands traveled down from her face to her waist as he pulled her in toward him. But he handled her like she was a china doll- like he didn’t want to break her.

Using the leverage, she pushed against his chest and pushed him so he was sitting with his back against the headboard like the night before. Her legs straddled him. But before she could sit down, his grip on her hips tightened, stopping her. She pulled back, confused. 

“Lemme look first.” He explained softly. 

He looked up at her like she was a goddess. His pupils were blown out, and his wet lips were slightly apart in awe. Tracing his fingers from her waist, he felt the material of the sheer fabric, then gently outlined her waist beneath. She shivered and smiled down, breathing fast. 

His large palms traveled from her waist, just slightly higher to beneath her breasts. Right where the actual bra part of the top ended. The top definitely had a pick-up effect and supported the girls, making them perk right in his face. 

 With a shaky breath, he couldn’t help the noise that came out of him. Like someone had punched all the air out of him. 

“Bobby-” Oh yeah, he should stop staring.

His thumbs lifted and found where her nipples poked out of the fabric. Rubbing soft up and down’s, she melted under his touch. “Just wanting to appreciate everything about this, sweetheart.”

After a moment, he moved one of his hands down to the curve of her hips and gently set her down against him. Their eyes interlocked as she finally got to feel him against her, the fabric between them minimal. 

She sucked in a breath. “You’re so hard.”

“What did you expect, baby? Dressed so god damn pretty like that.” He huffed.

A smile crept onto her face. When Bob was really desperate, his mouth got filthier. He talked more when he was in bed, which was ironic considering he was a man of few words otherwise. 

He looked down at her thigh and hooked his finger under the lace garter. It snapped against her skin gently, and he swallowed. “I really like that.”

“Figured you’d like it more than a scrunchie.” She teased, and he rolled his eyes, but she leaned down to kiss him. Pressing her lips against him, he was clearly a little more desperate now. His touches were a little more kinetic, and he couldn’t keep to one area for too long. It was like he needed to feel all of her all the time.

She rolled her hips down against him, feeling his length up and down herself. Little whines escaped her as she gradually soaked through the lingerie, and the fabric was starting to feel more and more like a barrier. They rocked together, and the sight of her with her eyes closed, desperate and writhing, was already sending him further than he wanted to be.

“Wait- fuck-” Bob threw his head back. He took his glasses off, panting, “You keep this up, I’m gonna come in my pants-” 

She slowed down and batted her eyelashes at him with a playful smile. 

He wrapped his hands around her ass and closed his eyes just feeling the lace material. “Fucking christ- you’re so hot.” His eyes fluttered open to look at her again. “As much- as much as I love these, I- We should-” He stammered, barely able to speak.

“Fuck me.” She interrupted.

He nodded and smashed his lips onto hers. Making quick work of taking the panties down her legs, he rubbed the dainty fabric between his fingers before throwing them to the floor. He moved down to kiss her neck as he brought his hand between her legs before she could sit back down against him again. His groan vibrated against her neck. She was so wet. He spread her fluids and used it to rub her clit with ease. 

She gasped and let out a choked sound. Instinctively, her body moved back like an electric shock, but he used his free hand to hold her ass, keeping her forward. He gently used this so that he could push her back and down onto the mattress. They were upside down on the bed, but he hovered above her. His lips kept to her neck and collarbones so that he could hear every sound that came out of her. Especially as he slotted two fingers in. He needed to hear the broken moan that came out of her. The way her voice cracked. 

He rocked his fingers back and forth, and the sound was devious. The squelch it made had the two of them blushing. He kissed her cheek. “So perfect.” He reassured her, knowing she was feeling more vulnerable than ever. Her legs involuntarily closed with a gasp when he hit the good spot, “No. No. Keep those legs open for me, pretty girl.” He used his free hand to pry her legs apart.

She panted and opened her eyes to see Bob. She reached up and cupped his face, her jaw-dropping as his fingers picked up the pace. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit. “Ho-o-oly fuck.” She whined with her eyes open.

Bob could’ve finished right there. But he bit his lip to restrain himself.

“I’m gonna-” She choked out.

He nodded, continuing to hit the same spot, making sure his thumb didn’t falter. Feeling her squeeze around his fingers, he thought about what it’d feel like around him, and his breath hitched.

Her whole body tensed, and he couldn’t stop her legs from closing around his hand this time. She sighed in relief as the wave passed and she looked up at Bob panting. 

He took his hand away, gingerly spreading the finish around so there’d be more for later. She shivered and tried to catch her breath as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. 

“You okay? You still good to do more?” He asked concerned.

She nodded, out of breath. “Uh-huh.” 

He wanted to give her some time to breathe, but suddenly she grabbed his face and started kissing him hard. The small surprised sound from him was quickly replaced with moans as he closed his eyes and kissed her. 

She reached down between them and pulled him out of his briefs. He was harder than ever, and he was glistening in pre cum. “Oh, baby, that looks like it hurts.”

His head hung down, and he hissed as she pulled it out. He paused to take down his briefs and throw them away. When she wrapped her hand around him, he doubled over her. She started to move her hand, but he grabbed her wrist with a pleading look.

“You can’t- I’m not gonna last-” He said through gritted teeth.

With that, she stopped but opened her legs so he could wrap them around his waist. 

“Thank you, baby. Oh Jesus Christ, thank you.” He murmured, leaning down into her neck as he lined himself up. She didn’t know what exactly he was thanking her for, but it turned her on nonetheless to see him so wrecked

He had never gone in so easily before. Usually, there’d be pauses so she could adjust or he’d need to grab more lube. Not tonight. He sank right in, and they both held onto each other tightly as they let out the most relieved sounds. 

He picked himself up so he could look down at her as he gently started to move back and forth. Sinking in and out, she couldn’t help the moans coming out of her pounding heart. Every move he made felt like electricity as he held her legs up. 

“So fucking lucky- how did I get-” He groaned as he very gradually started to pivot faster “so fucking lucky-”

The whimpers and sounds coming out of her were pornographic. But how could they not be when he was talking to her like that and reaching places that made her see stars? He was still the same sweet Bob even when overcome with pleasure. 

She felt his hands move to her chest, and he looked down at her with almost puppy-dog eyes. She nodded eagerly and then felt him move the fabric of the lingerie down so he could watch her chest bounce with every thrust. Every move sent pleasure through her body, and she was gripping anything and everything for purchase as her back slid up and down the sheets. So when his thumbs found her nipples again, now fabricless, she was gone. On another planet. 

Bob was making low noises and deep sighs as he let their bodies do the work. He was so deep, and every time he’d praise her, she’d clench around him, and he’d have to bite his lip to keep himself from finishing too early. Even though he knew she didn’t mind finishing early sometimes, he wanted to keep this up at least a little longer. She looked so beautiful. And god, he could never let that go to waste. 

He moved her legs so they were more or less on his shoulders. His pace slowed just slightly because he knew it was more of a stretch for her, but by the loud moan she elicited, he figured she didn’t mind. So now her legs were much closer together, creating more friction and more pleasure between the two of them. His head hung down and he moved one of his hands, patting the bed trying to find her hand. She realized and locked her hand with his. 

“Baby- Baby, I’m sorry. I don’t know if I-” He groaned. “Can last much longer.” 

“Me- me either-” She admitted

And he was surprised. Usually, she had more of a recovery time than this. But that just motivated him to keep going and use the hand that wasn't in hers down between them, rubbing her where he could. Her back arched, and she squeezed his hand. 

He couldn’t help but keep talking, grunting sweet nothings.  So fucking good. So pretty in that bra. All for me. All for fucking me. Jesus. Oh my god, you feel so good. So tight and so loud for me. 

She could tell he was getting close by his losing his rhythm and going a little harder than before. She wanted to say something. Tell him that he should finish. But she could barely speak as he punched in and out. Especially because she was on the precipice of her own high. 

They finished together with a strangled moan from her and Bob’s face scrunching and cussing as he coated her insides. 

He let her legs down and leaned over, panting and sweaty. He kissed all over her face, breaking her out of her daze. For a moment, there was silence of just him admiring how she looked with her messy hair, her lingerie top all askew. “I mean it- how did I get so lucky?”

Her lips curved up, “Hangman.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. Then he suddenly remembered that Hangman was the one who had come up with the Victoria’s Secret idea to begin with. He groaned and shook his head.

“Don’t remind me that he exists when we’re like this.”

“Mmmm… it was a good idea though, wasn’t it?” 

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, it was.”

[pinkdaisies9285]

A reblog because the love for Bob has grown since Thunderbolts*

Flyboy and the Florist-DISCONTINUED

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Summary: Bob had always been known as the quiet one out of the Dagger Squad but when he meets an alluring florist things change. Can he win the heart of a woman the others think is "out of his league?"

Warnings in each part but mainly Fluff

Moodboard Credit: Me Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Main Masterlist

[sebsxphia]

Do you know that audio on TikTok that’s like I made love to my wife 4 times and this morning she made pancakes and whatnot? Could you do a story where it’s the daggers and this is how they find out about bobs wife?

don’t stop.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: jake attempts to catch bob out, but bob has something to reveal.

￫ word count: 1K.

￫ warnings: mentions of sex, smut and food.

￫ authors notes: i hope i based this off the right sound, my dear anon! 🥹 i’m sorry this took so long too 🥺 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob stood beside Natasha in comfortable silence as they dressed in the appropriate gear, ready for a test flight.

They instinctively turned to face one another when the other needed help attaching a certain piece to their suit or tightening their straps. They had grown un-deniably close over the past two years, and they knew each other’s movements step by step.

Natasha’s eyebrows raised, and she let out a small groan. “Here they come.”

Bob’s breath hitched as he heard the booming voices coming through the door.

Javy sauntered in, with Jake on his heels, both snickering about something like schoolboys.

“Oh, Jake, you wouldn’t believe it.” They both swung open their lockers in sync. At a glance, you wouldn’t think that they flew separately. They were so similar as they mirrored the movements of getting their gear on.

“I made love to her four times last night. This morning, I got pancakes. She woke up at six to make them for me before I left. God, I fuckin’ love my wife.”Javy boasted with prideful laughter.

Jake only spurred him on, with a proud slap on his back and matched Javy’s amusement.

However, at Javy’s confession, Natasha snorted quietly to herself.

Jake’s head cocked to the right of him and his eyebrows raised with a questioning glance her way. He leaned back against the lockers containing their gear and attached some to himself.

“What’s so funny, Nat? You tellin’ me you could beat Javy’s record?” Jake questioned her with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

By this time, Mickey, Rueben, and Bradley had all filtered into the room as well. They didn’t want to interrupt the ego-boosting feud that was currently unfolding in front of them. They geared up in silence but still listened with eager ears, their eyes flicking back and forth between Jake and Natasha.

She took a sharp breath between her teeth and broke Jake’s questioning gaze. She purposefully didn’t look back at the guys but calmly stated, “Well, I made love to my wife six times, and yeah, I also got breakfast.”

The silence from them both was telling. She continued fixing her gear and calmly played off her triumphant feat. It was as though it was the most normal thing in the world for her (which wasn’t far off).

She heard Bradley’s hushed whistle of “Oof,” and she smiled proudly to herself as she looked down to see where she was fiddling with a buckle on her suit.

Bob, on the other hand, had watched the entire exchange before him, with bated breath. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and the corner of his lips twitched into a grin as he saw Jake and Javy’s bewildered faces.

If only they knew how good you were for him last night. If only they knew how pretty you looked on your knees and spread out on the soft linen, all for himself. If only they knew how pretty you sounded, as you whimpered and whined his name all—

“Bob!” Jake’s biting tone snapped his attention straight towards the blonde-haired man. “You’re lookin’ smug for a guy, who, as far as we know, hasn’t been laid in… two years?” He questioned with faux interest.

Natasha immediately belted out an amused, “Ha!”

She knew Bob better than anyone here. She had met you, Bob’s long-time wife. Natasha and her wife had been to dinner with Bob and you. She had been to BBQs in your backyard and tried your delicious home-cooked macaroni and cheese. You were even invited to her bachelorette party when she got married.

Natasha also knew that no one else knew.

Bob was private about his life away from the naval base. He had his reasons, but more than anything, he appreciated the peace he shared with his one love. You.

Jake’s jeering and deeply imposing question made his eye twitch a little from behind his glasses. He pushed his frames up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, before looping his hands into the gear on his chest. He puffed out his chest slightly and stood confidently across from Jake.

“Well? You got a wife?” Jake asked the question carelessly and casually, making Bob squirm. He severely despised people thinking about his wife like that, as if you weren’t the moon to his sun.

A beat, and Bob responded. “Yeah.”

Javy’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Mickey and Ruben had turned around to watch the whole thing by then. They nudged one another in the ribs and whispered, “I told you so!”

Bradley didn’t flinch. He knew. He saw Bob and you on the beach one evening. Bob gave him a curt nod, and when he arrived at the Navy base the next morning, Bradley swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. He understood, more than anyone, why people kept their private lives away from here.

Jake snorted, although he blinked furiously as Bob’s statement took him aback. “Okay then, Baby, how many times did you make love to them last night?”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest in an attempt to shield himself from perhaps being scolded by Bob Floyd.

“Once.”

“Once?! Oh, Bob.” Jake mocked with faux sympathy. “And did they make you anything this morning?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” Bob’s gaze narrowed fiercely towards Jake. “My wife was asking me not to stop.”

There was a deafening silence, and then a chorus of bellowing laughter and jeers echoed throughout the room.

Even Javy let out a loud chuckle, gripping Jake’s shoulders and playfully shaking him. “He got you there!”

Bob cocked his head at Jake, with an assured smile now etched fully onto his lips. He asked if Natasha was ready, and then they both headed out onto the tarmac, leaving Jake behind, practically frozen in shock.

Once the rest of the guys had had enough playful jabs towards him, they all made their way out to join the others. But Jake felt a firm hand on his shoulder as the tall brunette towered over him.

“Don’t assume stuff like that, Hangman. Wait until you find out that he has a kid.”

taglist: @floydsmuse @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @kmc1989

tagging those who may be interested: @becks-things @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @thecowboyfiles @auroralightsthesky @beautifulandvoid

[roosterforme]

Some Things Take Time | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob is a man well known for his patience. He never rushes things in the air, and he tries to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. You and he are both on the same page about welcoming a child into your home through foster care, but it's hard for him to watch you try to bond with her unsuccessfully. He soon realizes that Avery is a lot like him, and that some things are worth the extra time.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of infertility, mentions of foster care and adoption, Bob making all other men look like trash

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader

Happy birthday @wkndwlff! Check my masterlist for more!

You were laying on the couch with your head resting on your husband's lap, spinning his wedding band around on his finger while you tried to put your thoughts into words. You could tell he knew you were on the verge of speaking, sending you several expectant glances as you and he both pretended to watch the movie he started an hour ago. But Bob would never rush you, and you were thankful for that, because you wanted to make sure you got this right. 

"We've been trying for a long time," you whispered, and Bob's blue eyes met yours as you looked up at him. "Almost two years."

He nodded once and smiled softly. "We have," he murmured, squeezing your hand in his larger one. You pressed your lips together as tears stung your eyes. Bob never seemed upset that he was pushing forty years old and in spite of trying and trying, you'd never gotten pregnant. He never put pressure on you to keep trying or to stop. You were convinced he never would, but you wanted to know what he was really thinking.

"What if we... stopped. Stopped trying. And just went with an alternative?"

"Honey, I already told you I'm happy with things how they are. We can stop trying if you want to, or we can talk about alternatives if you want to do that. But there's nothing wrong with just you and me. In fact, I'm really quite enjoying myself."

You closed your eyes as his fingers drifted along the curves of your side. It would be delicious to get back into the habit of having sex when you wanted to instead of when your cycle demanded it. You and Bob sharing your undivided attention with each other was something you were craving, but you still wanted something else, too.

"What if I said I wanted to look into fostering and adoption again?" you asked softly as you started to sit up.

He pulled you closer so you were straddling his thigh. "Then I would say we can call our lawyer on Monday and get some answers."

You smiled as you nudged his glasses with your nose and kissed his cheek. "And what if I said I'm not fertile today, but I want you anyway?"

Bob reached for the remote and turned the movie off as a soft blush rose in his cheeks. "Then I would say it's time we got in bed, Honey."

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

Bob was a man who was well known for his patience. He never rushed things in the air, and he tried to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. He knew he wanted to marry you about halfway through the first date. He also knew you would have looked at him like he was insane if he admitted that to you halfway through the first date. So instead of rushing things, he took the time to make sure you were on the same page he was and that you were comfortable. He always tried to do that.

When a baby just didn't seem to be happening, he was more than willing to keep trying, but he was also completely content with the idea of no kids at all. It wasn't worth rushing anything as long as he had you in his life. But you had recently convinced him of a third option, and his lawyer helped the two of you smooth out the details. 

And this is how Avery ended up at Bob's house on a random Monday evening. She was eight years old and in need of a foster family, and you were adamant when you answered the phone call that you and Bob were more than ready for her to be dropped off even on such short notice. 

"I'm so nervous," you whispered as you held Bob's hand and watched through the front window as a van pulled up. 

"I'm excited," he told you with a soft laugh. When he thought about having kids, he always pictured a little girl. For some reason, the idea of reading princess stories and painting a bedroom a putrid shade of purple really appealed to him. As he watched Avery being led up the walkway, he realized she didn't look one bit like you or him. He also realized that having a child who resembled him was actually never part of his dreams. 

As the doorbell rang, you bounced in place and whispered, "She's here. She's really here." 

Bob pulled you in for a kiss as his heart thudded. He realized he needed to tamp down his excitement a little bit. The two of you were merely fostering Avery. Nothing was set in stone even though you told the lawyer you wanted to eventually adopt a child. But right now your eyes were glittering with hope and anticipation, and Bob couldn't take that away from you. 

"Let's make her feel welcome," he said as you both headed for the door. 

Avery stood there with an unreadable expression on her adorable face, and Bob noticed right away how the case worker seemed to rush through everything. There were papers to sign and a schedule to keep, and even though all of it pertained to Avery, she ended up sitting quietly at the kitchen table while everyone else talked about her.

It was late by the time you and Bob were alone with her, and now her unreadable expression looked something like sadness. "Avery," Bob said softly. "Do you want to see your bedroom?"

She looked up at him and nodded without saying a word, and then you helped her down from the chair. You had taken the time to freshen up the extra bedroom and buy a pink glitter toothbrush and a pair of pajamas in her size. But Avery just sat down on the edge of the bed with her bag and asked, "Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"

"Yes," Bob replied with a smile. "I'll drop you off on my way to work, and then I'll pick you up in the afternoon."

When she didn't respond, you asked, "Is there anything you want? A bedtime snack or something to drink? I could make you some hot chocolate or get you a cookie. Bob makes the best oatmeal cookies, and there are a few left from the weekend. Maybe you can help Bob make the next batch." You were rambling now, and Bob reached out to squeeze your hand as you said, "We're just excited that you're here."

But Avery shook her head and told you, "I'll just read my book. Thanks." Then she untied her shoes and took a well worn copy of The Secret Garden from her bag, but she sat on the bed with rigid posture, not looking at either of you.

Bob wasn't quite sure what to do. You'd already shown the child where the bathroom was, and she seemed to have all of her essentials. He swallowed hard, deciding not to rush Avery even though he could feel your disappointment radiating off of you. He cleared his throat and said, "We'll leave our bedroom door open in case you need anything. And we'll get you up around seven for school. Good night, Avery."

She just nodded and squinted down at the tattered book cover like she was going to cry. Bob led you down the hallway, through your room and into the en suite bathroom where he gathered you in his arms as tears filled your eyes. "I don't think she likes us," you gasped before you buried your face against his neck.

Bob kissed the top of your head and whispered, "I just think she needs some time. Let's not rush anything." 

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

You cried yourself to sleep the first night. You knew that your response wasn't fair to Bob or Avery or even to yourself, but you'd imagined meeting a little girl who was at least a little bit more talkative if not upbeat. You had your hopes set on fostering a child who at least gave the impression that your home was better than another alternative. You'd been given a vague picture of where Avery had come from, and you wanted her to be comfortable here, but now you felt stupid for buying the glitter toothbrush and the Minnie Mouse pajamas. 

Bob's hand drew lazy circles on your back as you turned away from him and cried softly. "It's just the first night," he reminded you in that sweet, even tone that you loved so much.

"I know. I just wanted this so desperately," you admitted between shaky breaths. His hand on your body helped you eventually fall asleep, and the next morning, Bob was up before you, making breakfast. When you tapped on Avery's door which was ajar, you poked your head in to find her once again sitting on the bed reading.

"Did you sleep okay?" you asked, and she nodded in response. "That's great!" you said in a tone of forced excitement. "Do you need help getting ready for school?"

"No," she said softly, setting the book aside.

You took a deep breath and said, "Bob's making breakfast. Do you want to come downstairs and eat?"

"Yes."

That was the last word you heard her speak before Bob led her out to his car in his uniform. He smiled at you over his shoulder as he told you to have a good day working on your true crime novel, but you knew you weren't going to. You spend two hours trying to write, but you ended up with three and a half new sentences. Instead, you spent most of the day thinking you'd made a huge mistake and hating your own body. Avery would probably last two weeks tops with you and Bob before she was begging to go somewhere else. You didn't even know if you could stand to see her melancholy little expression when your husband brought her home from school today, but you didn't want to call her case worker for help yet.

In the afternoon, you bought everything you needed to make oatmeal cookies along with the rest of your usual groceries. You paused next to the checkout line where there was a display of children's books and grabbed a few of them. Avery appeared to like her book more than anything else, so maybe she would appreciate these ones, too.

But when Bob brought Avery home with him after school, she barely spoke. She didn't want to help make any cookies, and after dinner, she went back to her bedroom. Bob tried to help her with her homework, but she told him it was easy and she already finished it. When you dropped off the new books, she told you she already had a favorite. 

"Oh," you said, standing in the doorway with your hands full of the unwanted books. "That's good... that you have a favorite. I have a favorite book, too."

She looked up at you and nodded, but soon you were backing out of the room and trying to hide your tears from Bob. "It takes time," he reassured you as you balled your hands into fists and cried on him again.

You knew you needed to be as patient as he always was, but you just weren't like him. And you started talking before you could stop yourself. "If we could have gotten pregnant, we'd have our own child," you sobbed. "One that we raised from day one who would love us and bake cookies and read new books."

Bob kissed your ear and whispered, "Nothing is easy, Honey. But sometimes the harder something is at first, the more rewarding it is later on."

You cried yourself to sleep again.

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

Bob tried his best for that first week. He watched you start to pull away and retreat into yourself the more Avery kept to her bedroom. Every day when he dropped her off and picked her up, she thanked him for the ride. When he asked if she would rather start taking the bus, she told him it didn't matter. When he asked if there was something special she wanted to eat for dinner, she said she wasn't picky. 

And all the while she just squinted down at her book. Just The Secret Garden even though you brought home some others. When he pulled up to the curb in front of her school one morning, he said, "Avery, would you like me to take you to the library one day? Or maybe a bookstore where you can pick out what you want?"

She looked at him as she grabbed her backpack in one hand and her book in the other. "Maybe." Then she climbed out of the car, and he waited to pull away until she was inside the school building. That was the most promising answer he'd received yet. He drove to work thinking about signing her up for a library card, and when he got there, he was in a much better mood.

Natasha was the only one who knew that Avery was under his care. He didn't want to give anyone too many details, but she sweetly asked him the same question every morning after they got to work. "How are you and the Mrs. making out with your houseguest?"

And this morning, he said, "Maybe a little better today, Nat. I'm just trying not to rush it."

She patted him on the chest and smiled. "You never do, Bob. You're a man of details."

She was right. He spent the day thinking about all of the details that he knew about Avery. She was eight years old and very quiet. She only wanted to read one book even though you offered her more. She seemed to find the most comfort when she was alone. She was honestly a lot like Bob.

When he picked Avery up from school, he watched as one of the teachers patted the top of her backpack and sent her on her way. She squinted toward his car before trudging over in his direction with a frown on her face. Bob sighed as she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. "How was your day, Avery?" he asked as he shifted into drive. But today he got no verbal response at all. Instead he heard her crying.

Without another word, Bob pulled his car around and into an empty parking spot before killing the engine. He opened his door and closed it before taking a few deep breaths, and then he climbed in the back door and settled in next to the crying child. He let one hand gently rest on her shoulder, giving her a small squeeze before asking, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

She just shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks, and she stared at her feet. "It's stupid."

Bob smiled slightly. "You might think so, but I'd probably find what you have to say fascinating."

She turned her head to look at him, examining his face to see if he was being honest. But of course he was. He just wanted her to tell him what was on her mind. It took a few minutes before she started to settle down, but eventually she said, "I failed my eye exam with the nurse today." She unzipped her bag and pulled out a yellow sheet of paper and handed it to him. "She told me my eyesight is terrible and that I need to get glasses."

Bob looked at the page and had to hide his alarm from her. Avery failed her eye exam spectacularly. It was a wonder to Bob that she was even able to see in her classroom. But now her squinting and her preference for one, well worn book were starting to make sense. As he filled in the blanks in his mind, he said, "Glasses aren't so bad," while he tapped his own silver frames. "They certainly make my day a lot easier."

She kind of rolled her eyes and said, "But you're an adult. People aren't going to make fun of you for wearing glasses."

"You think you'll get made fun of?" Bob asked softly, folding the yellow paper in half.

"Yes," she replied immediately as she wiped at her tears. "I already do. Glasses will make it so much worse."

Bob wanted to press her for more details, but he didn't think this was the right moment. Instead he asked, "Is that why you only like to read The Secret Garden? Because you already know most of the words by heart?"

Avery looked at him like she couldn't believe he solved a very complex riddle. "Yes."

He nodded and asked, "Would you like to be able to read other books, too? Because glasses would definitely help with that."

She shrugged and sniffed as she said, "I like books about gardens and flowers and fairies. I don't know of any other ones I would like anyway."

Bob patted her on the shoulder one more time and said, "I like those kinds of books, too. And I think I can help you get glasses that look cool and help you pick out more books. If you'll let me."

Another partial shrug was his only answer, but at least she wasn't telling him no. As he climbed back into the driver's seat, he sent you a quick text telling you that he and Avery were fine and to go ahead and have dinner on your own. Then he drove along to his optometrist's office, hoping they would squeeze an extra appointment into their schedule.

"You're in luck," the receptionist told him when they arrived. "There was a last minute cancellation. Have a seat, and we can take you back shortly."

The rack hanging on the wall was filled with books and magazines for people of all ages, but Bob watched Avery squint as she took a seat empty handed. He skimmed a magazine and offered to read an article to her, but she said no. When ten minutes had passed, Bob asked her, "Are the kids at school mean to you?" 

He was already considering other options that might make her feel more comfortable when she said, "I just don't fit in. Everyone else has parents or grandparents. Everyone else is loud, and I like it better when it's quiet. Everyone else already made friends."

Bob nodded his head. It was like she was living his own childhood in many ways. "I like it better when it's quiet, too. So does my wife. And making friends can be hard at any age. I still struggle with it."

"You do?" she asked him, eyes wide and interested.

"Absolutely. Sometimes I still get nervous and stumble over what I want to say, and I'm thirty-nine. And you know what?"

"What?"

"There's nothing wrong with that."

He watched Avery take a deep breath and look down at her hands before both of their names were called. Once they were in the exam room, Bob got to witness her fail the test for the second time in one day, and then her tears started up again. The crying was only made worse when the receptionist popped in and tried to quietly tell Bob that Avery wasn't approved for any vision insurance. 

The child was clearly smart as a whip, and if she was having a hard time fitting in at school, he didn't want to make it worse by making her feel like she didn't fit in with you and him either. "I was planning on paying out of pocket today," he told the receptionist who just nodded in response. Then he turned to Avery and said, "Looks like the nurse was right. How about we pick out some glasses?"

She looked at the displays while she wiped at her eyes with a tissue, but she wouldn't tell Bob which ones she wanted to try on. "Which ones are the cheapest?" she asked softly.

"I have no idea," Bob replied easily. "What's your favorite color?"

"Purple," she whispered, and Bob followed her squinting gaze to a purple frame sitting on a shelf above her head. 

"I like purple, too," he said as he reached them down and handed them to her. She held them for a couple minutes, and Bob decided not to rush her. She finally slipped them on and looked in the mirror, and he told her, "I think they look cool."

She nodded a little bit. "They're pretty good. But nobody else at school has purple glasses." 

As she removed them and tried to hand them back to him, Bob quickly looked at the adult sized frames. There was one pair that came in a deep purple, and he kind of liked them. "Just hang onto those for a minute. I need help picking out new glasses for myself, okay? What do you think about these?" 

When he removed his wire frames and replaced them with the purple plastic, it seemed like Avery couldn't help but smile. "I like them."

He nodded once. "Then I'll get them. That way we can match since we both like purple. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome," she replied quietly, looking at the glasses she was still holding before handing them to Bob.

He took both pairs in his hand before nodding toward the door. "I'm feeling like it's a good day to get ice cream for dinner and look around the bookstore. I can think of at least two more books that you might like to read once your glasses are ready for you to wear. Sound good?"

"Yes."

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

You didn't know what to expect when Bob brought Avery home after seven o'clock on a school night, but you definitely weren't prepared to hear her laughter for the first time. You'd barely made any progress on your novel since Avery arrived a few weeks ago, merely existing in your own funk all day long. But the sound of Bob's voice followed by her light giggle as they walked inside left you feeling better than you had in ages.

"Hi," you said, your voice dripping with optimism as Bob headed your way with a shopping bag in his hand. 

"Hi, Honey," he replied, kissing your cheek while Avery took her shoes off.

"How was school?" you asked her. 

"Terrible," she told you with a smile aimed up at Bob. "I failed my eye exam."

"Oh," you gasped, already making a mental note to call the eye doctor first thing in the morning so she could get some glasses. "We can take care of it for you."

"Already did," Bob said as he squeezed your hand. "Stopped on the way home and picked them out. Should be ready next week."

"Really?" you asked in surprise as he pulled two books out of the bag. Both were covered in vines and flowers, but one was clearly a novel for an adult while the other was much slimmer and looked like it was for Avery's reading level.

"Yes," he replied softly. "Now, on the drive home, I told Avery that you're a writer, but that you're also really good at reading books out loud." When you nodded and looked at her, she was squinting up at you. Bob handed you the smaller book and said, "I didn't get to take a shower before I left work, so I need to go do that now. But I promised Avery that you'd read a chapter to her after she gets ready for bed." He patted her on the shoulder and then made his way upstairs.

Your head was swimming with information. New glasses and new books and a child who was looking up at you with hope in her eyes. A husband who set up some time for you to spend alone with her. Tears stung your eyes as you said, "I love reading books out loud. Do you want to change for bed and brush your teeth now?"

Ten minutes later, you were sitting next to Avery on the spare bed, reading to her about a magical garden filled with flowers that turned the characters into superheroes. You read all sixteen pages of the first chapter, and then she asked you to read more. 

It was a little bit past bedtime when you finished the third chapter, and she was yawning. "How about I go get you one of my bookmarks from my office? And we can read more tomorrow night?"

"Okay," she replied easily, and when you returned a minute later with a bookmark that had a purple tassel, she smiled. "I like this book so far, but I think I'd like it a lot better if there were fairies, too. Thank you for reading to me."

"You're very welcome," you told her, barely shutting off the light in time for a tear to slide down your cheek. "Goodnight, Avery."

When you rushed into your own bedroom, Bob was in bed reading the other new book. "How did you do it?" you asked him, quickly climbing under the covers with him. "How did you get her to open up a little bit?"

He set the book down with a soft smile. "She just needed some time, Honey. She's a lot like me. She can't be rushed."

"No," you said, pushing your fingers through his hair as you cried a little bit. "That's not it. I think you're actually magical."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But her vision is so bad. That's why I think she kept reading The Secret Garden. She probably has it memorized and didn't want to tell anyone she couldn't see."

"Poor thing," you whispered, realizing that most of Bob's magic came from his patience as you fell asleep in his arms.

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

A week later, Bob noticed you were exhausted, but you seemed a lot happier, because Avery seemed a lot happier. You had successfully read two books to her, and she was starting to become more vocal around the house. He was hoping she was having an easier time making friends at school now, too. But he was a little bit concerned with how late into the night you'd been working.

When he got a message around lunchtime letting him know both pairs of glasses were ready, he smiled. Pretty soon Avery would be able to attempt reading a new book on her own. He sent you a text letting you know that he'd be home with Avery after a quick stop back at the optometrist's office. And when he picked her up from school, she squinted at his car before climbing in the backseat. 

"Ready to go get our new glasses?" he asked before pulling out onto the road.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I've decided that wearing glasses is a better alternative than not being able to read new books. At least until I can get contacts."

Bob chuckled. "A wise choice."

A few seconds later, she asked, "Will you take me to the library this weekend? There have to be more books there that I'd like."

"Of course I'll take you to the library. We can ask the librarian to help you find you as many books as you want to read."

He hoped that would make the new glasses an even easier decision for her. He parked and led her inside where the eye doctor got them both fitted correctly before handing them a mirror. "What do you think?" Bob asked as he smiled at Avery. "I think they look cool on you."

She shrugged. "They're okay."

"Can you see better?"

"Yes," she whispered. On the way outside, she said, "Thanks for getting new glasses with me. I like yours, too."

Bob checked himself in the mirror before he backed out of the parking spot. "I think it's kind of my color."

You were waiting in the living room for them when Bob opened the front door. The house smelled like dinner cooking, and you had a stack of bound pages on the couch next to you. When you jumped to your feet, you said, "You both look great!" as you bounced in place a little bit.

"Purple is kind of our color," Avery said, making Bob laugh as you covered your massive smile with your fingertips. 

"It really is," you replied, wrapping Bob in a quick hug before cautiously placing your hand on Avery's shoulder for a beat. "I have something I wanted to show you. I was hoping to get your opinion."

"Me?" she asked, looking up at you, eyes wide behind her purple frames.

"Yes," you told her softly. "I've been working on a new story for the past week, and I really think you'll be able to help me with the ending."

"What kind of story?" she asked you, and Bob slowly made his way into the kitchen where he could still hear the two of you talking. 

"Well," you told her as she joined you on the couch, "it's about a fairy who gets invited to live in a magic garden. And she starts to learn how to use magic herself while a friendly witch and a kind wizard supervise her. And the garden is really pretty, and she loves it there and starts to make friends with the other creatures. Do you want to take a look at it?"

"Okay."

Bob hovered in the doorway and watched you hand the bound manuscript to the little girl next to you while you chewed nervously on your lip. He knew you wanted this to work out; he did too. He was also very surprised that you'd been working on this for the past week without sharing your secret even with him. But it truthfully wasn't really for him. It was for her. And you.

The child looked up at you and whispered, "You named the fairy Avery."

You just nodded and smiled. "Your name is so pretty, and you remind me of the kind of little girl who would have magic inside her."

Avery turned back to the page in front of her and snuggled in a little bit closer to you. She started reading out loud, and after a few pages, handed it over to you for a little bit. The two of you went back and forth like this for an hour before Bob carried in two plates of dinner and set them on the coffee table. 

"Even magic fairies get hungry," he said softly before leaving both of you to the story.

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

When you woke up a few weeks later on Avery's ninth birthday, you were beyond exhausted. The past few nights had been late ones for you as you tried to finish up and edit the story you'd been working on. The title that the two of you came up with was The Littlest Fairy in the Garden, and you were just as proud of this as your true crime releases. 

Then you realized that there was actually a reason why you woke up. You could hear Bob talking. It sounded like he was on the phone even though it was barely eight o'clock. You climbed out of bed and stretched before finding him sitting on the floor in the walk-in closet talking softly on the phone in his pajama pants, undershirt and purple glasses.

"I'm sure she's going to agree with me. We want to move forward if that's what Avery wants, but I'll call you back in an hour or two. Thank you so much."

He ended the call right when you asked, "Who was that?"

Bob jumped a bit as he looked up at you with a tentative smile. "Our lawyer," he whispered. 

"What did they say?" you whispered back as he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around you. 

When Bob's lips found your ear, you shivered at his words. "It was just a preliminary conversation, but they asked if we would be interested in pursuing adoption."

"With Avery?" you gasped, and he nodded against you. 

"Yes. With Avery."

Tears filled your eyes as you clung to him. You thought about all the books she'd been reading with you and the birthday cake waiting in the kitchen. You could practically still smell the oatmeal cookies she and Bob made a few days ago. You could picture her smile and imagine her laughter, both of which were coming more easily with each passing day. "I want to adopt her. She belongs here. With us."

"I think so, too," he replied immediately, and you could hear the unshed tears in her voice. "I think we should have a conversation with her about it today. The process could take a little time, but I want to be sure it's what she wants as well."

You nodded, a jerky motion against him as your heart pounded faster and faster. "Let's talk about it when she wakes up."

Bob led you downstairs to the kitchen, his fingers laced with yours, and he started to crack some eggs while you made coffee and fresh orange juice. Avery had picked the menu for each meal today for her birthday, and the plan was to take her to the zoo after lunch. There was currently a purple banner with flowers and fairies on it stretched across the kitchen along with a large assortment of balloons. You couldn't remember being this excited about something in such a long time.

"Good morning," came a soft voice from the bottom of the stairs, and you nearly dropped a mug on the floor as you turned to look at her.

"Happy birthday!" you and Bob replied in unison, and then all three of you started laughing. 

Without another word, Avery made her way into the kitchen in her Minnie Mouse pajamas and gave you a hug around the waist. You gasped softly as you hugged her back, her purple glasses pressing against you. Then she tucked herself against Bob's side and hugged him right after that. "Thanks for all the birthday stuff. And thanks for being so nice to me and getting me glasses and everything."

You and Bob shared a look over her head as he rubbed his hand along her shoulder. "It makes us happy that you're here, Avery," he said softly, and you had to swipe at your tears. "Let's have your breakfast, and maybe we can talk about making this permanent."

"Permanent? Like me staying here for a while?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.

"Like you staying here forever."

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

This is a little birthday treat for @wkndwlff! I hope you have a great day, Taylor! I set out to write a nice little story based on this mood board, but somehow it turned into this angsty thing instead. Thanks to @sylviebell @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

[itwillbethescarletwitch]

Concert Glow

bob floyd x fem!reader

warnings: Concerts and a crowd, shootings and death

You kicked your shoes off before you even got in the truck.

Bob laughed when he saw you toss them in the backseat and curl your legs under yourself, barefoot and relaxed like the day had already been perfect—even though the best part hadn’t even started.

“Is this a ‘comfy girl concert vibe’ thing,” he teased, “or are you just planning on dancing until your toes bleed?”

“Both,” you said, reaching across the console for his hand. “You know me.”

He turned his palm up so your fingers could slot into his. It was instinct by now—like second nature, like gravity. His calloused thumb brushed gently over yours as he drove.

The wind tugged your hair through the open window. The sun was golden. The sky was soft.

“I’m excited,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this. A normal night. You know? Something that feels… young.”

Bob looked over at you, squinting behind his sunglasses. “You are young.”

You smirked. “My back disagrees.”

He snorted. “You don’t hear me complaining about my back when you steal all the covers.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “I knew it was you rolling me into the edge of the bed.”

“Occupational hazard of dating a Navy man, darlin’.”

“You’re barely Navy when you’re asleep.”

“I’m always Navy,” he said, grinning. “Even in my dreams.”

“Liar.”

He didn’t answer. Just reached over and brought your hand to his lips. Kissed the back of it once, then let it go.

⸻

The venue was just starting to fill when you arrived.

Bob parked in the grass, cut the engine, and reached into the backseat to grab the rolled-up blanket and the little tote bag full of snacks and sunscreen and backup hair ties you insisted on bringing. He held it all in one hand and offered the other to you.

You took it.

Of course you did.

⸻

The lawn was sprawling—big enough for the whole city, it felt like. String lights stretched between light poles and fence posts. Folding chairs and picnic blankets dotted the grass. The stage was small, but the speakers were already humming.

You walked through the crowd slowly, looking for a good spot.

That’s when you said it.

“I forget how much space the world still has,” you murmured, half to yourself.

Bob turned to you, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “Just… I don’t have a lot of people left. You know? My parents are gone. My grandma passed last year. I haven’t talked to my cousins in ages. It’s just—me.”

Bob blinked, the weight of your words sinking in.

You kept going, quietly: “It feels good being here with you. Like I’m still part of something.”

Bob didn’t speak for a second. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of your head.

“Then I’ll be enough,” he whispered.

⸻

You found the perfect spot—midway back, just outside the speaker towers but still close enough to see the stage. He laid out the blanket and dropped the bag beside it, then reached over to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Wanna go get drinks?”

“Only if I get to choose the music when we get back.”

“You already chose the concert.”

“And you already agreed to it.”

He laughed, grabbed his wallet, and pulled you up by the hand.

⸻

The food trucks were lined up along the fence—nachos, burgers, lemonade, funnel cake, fresh popcorn, cheap beer. You pointed at the lemonade stand.

“You first,” Bob said, grinning. “I’ll get mine after.”

You blinked. “Did you just say—”

“What?”

“‘You first.’”

“…Yeah?”

You smiled. “We say that a lot.”

He tilted his head. “Because we mean it.”

⸻

Back at the blanket, you sprawled out under the pink-purple sky and split a giant paper tray of curly fries. He plucked one from your hand, stole a kiss with it, then fed it back to you like you were royalty.

“I should bring you to more things like this,” he said.

You blinked at him, surprised. “You hate crowds.”

He shrugged. “I like you more.”

⸻

The first band came on, and the crowd stirred. Some people stood, others just leaned back into the grass. Bob pulled you into his side and laid a hand across your ribs, warm and grounding.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he said under his breath, so quietly you almost missed it.

You turned toward him. “What?”

But he just smiled. “I said, you look really pretty in this light.”

You didn’t question it. Just leaned your head back on his shoulder.

⸻

It wasn’t until the second band started that he asked:

“You wanna dance?”

Bob’s voice was soft—softer than the music playing, softer than the hush between heartbeats.

You turned to look at him, surprised. “I thought you didn’t slow dance in public.”

He gave a half-smile, barely there. “There’s a lot I’d do for you that I wouldn’t for anyone else.”

You just stared at him for a second, heart cracking open in a way that felt both good and terrifying.

Then you whispered, “Okay.”

He stood first, brushing his palms on the back of his jeans, then offered his hand. You slid yours into his without hesitation, letting him pull you up off the blanket and out into the open grass.

You walked hand in hand toward the back edge of the venue—string lights arcing over the fence line, music humming like a lullaby through the air. A few other couples danced, but you barely noticed.

This was your world now. Just you and him. Just this moment.

Bob turned toward you, slipped one hand gently to your waist, the other holding your hand with quiet reverence. You rested your free hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath your palm.

You began to sway.

No fancy steps. No rhythm to follow. Just closeness.

Just him.

⸻

“I haven’t danced like this in a long time,” you murmured, eyes never leaving his.

Bob smiled softly. “I haven’t danced like this ever.”

“Not even at prom?”

“I didn’t go.”

You blinked. “Why not?”

He looked down, sheepish. “Didn’t have anyone I wanted to take. Not until now.”

You laughed, a little breathless. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

His hand curled a little tighter at your waist. “Don’t. I’d do anything to make you smile instead.”

You tilted your head, resting your temple against his. “You do. Every day.”

⸻

The music floated around you, something tender and slow with strings, maybe piano. Neither of you paid much attention to the lyrics. You didn’t need to.

He exhaled against your cheek. “I’ve been thinking about this lately.”

“Dancing?”

He gave a tiny laugh. “No. Us. You. How different life’s been since I met you.”

You shifted slightly so you could look up at him again. “Different good?”

Bob nodded once. “Yeah. I used to think I was just gonna coast through life. Fly, sleep, repeat. Nothing more than that. But then you showed up. And I started hoping.”

Your heart ached at that.

“Hoping for what?”

He shrugged, quiet. “Something that lasts. A home. A future. Someone to come back to.”

You squeezed his hand. “You have that. You have me.”

He didn’t speak for a long time.

Then he said:

“I wanna marry you someday.”

Your breath caught.

You stared at him. He wasn’t smiling—not nervously, not joking. He just said it like it was the truth. Like he already knew.

Your voice cracked when you answered. “Then let’s live long enough to get there.”

He pressed his forehead to yours.

“We will.”

⸻

You kept dancing.

The world faded out.

Around you, the concert carried on—lights pulsing, voices rising—but you were wrapped in something softer. Slower. More sacred.

His arms around you. Your cheek against his chest.

You closed your eyes and just let yourself feel it.

The steady thump of his heart. The warmth of his skin. The strength in his arms as he held you close like he’d never let go.

You whispered: “I don’t wanna lose this. Not ever.”

“You won’t,” he said immediately.

“I mean it. If anything ever happened—if I lost you—I don’t think I’d survive it. I don’t think I’d even want to.”

His hand slid to the small of your back.

“Don’t talk like that,” he murmured.

“I just… I need you to know. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had.”

His voice cracked a little when he answered: “You’re all I ever wanted.”

⸻

You stayed there, swaying, until the music changed.

He kissed your temple.

“You’re my last dance,” he whispered. “And my first.”

You looked up, tears in your eyes, and kissed him.

Slow. Deep. One of those kisses where your chest gets tight because you’re loving so hard you don’t know what to do with it all.

The kind of kiss that says goodbye without realizing it.

⸻

When you pulled away, you smiled up at him.

“I want to remember this forever.”

“You will,” he said, brushing his nose against yours.

You grinned. “How can you be so sure?”

His arms tightened just a little.

“Because I will.”

And then—

a piercing noise tore through the night, sharper than anything you’d ever heard.

The music stopped.

Then screaming.

Bob grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet before you could even think.

“Run. Stay close.”

You stumbled as the crowd surged around you, a tide of panic and terror.

Bullets cracked behind you—pop, pop, pop—hitting the pavement, the stage, anything they could find.

You felt a searing pain just above your hip.

You gasped.

Bob spun around, eyes wide.

“Shit,” he cursed, gripping your waist to steady you.

“Bobby—”

He barely registered his own shoulder burning.

“I don’t care,” he hissed, pulling you forward. “We gotta get somewhere safe. Come on!”

You leaned heavily on him, the pain spreading, but he was all strength beneath you.

You both ducked behind a row of stacked crates near the food trucks.

Bob pressed his palm against your side, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Hold on. I’m right here.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps.

Then footsteps—soft but fast.

A boy no older than sixteen, wide-eyed, shaking, carrying a rifle too big for him.

Bob stood slowly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

“It’s okay. We don’t want trouble.”

The boy’s voice cracked. “I… I don’t want to do this.”

Bob’s eyes softened. “Who made you come here?”

“They said if I don’t—my brother…”

Bob nodded, understanding.

“Is there a way out?”

The boy pointed, voice barely above a whisper: “Back left of the stage. Quick. That’s where it’s safe.”

Bob helped you up gently.

“We’re going to get through this. Stay with me.”

You looked up into his face, pain and love tangled in his eyes.

“I’ve got you,” he said, voice steady despite the chaos.

“What do we have here?” The voice was slow, mocking—like a predator savoring the fear in the air.

Bob’s body went rigid, his arms widening instinctively to shield you.

The man stepped fully into the dim glow of the string lights, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

Bob swallowed hard, voice trembling but steady. “Please… take me. Spare her.”

You shook your head violently, panic strangling your throat. “No! Bobby, don’t do this. Please.”

Bob’s eyes burned into the man’s, silent desperation begging for mercy.

The shooter laughed—a harsh, dry sound that filled the small space between you.

“Love makes you weak,” he sneered, leveling his assault rifle at you.

Your heart thundered.

Bob dropped to his knees, pulling you into his chest, arms wrapping around you like a shield.

“Don’t. Just take me,” Bob pleaded again, voice breaking.

The shooter circled you slowly, eyes glinting with cruelty.

“Well, well,” he mused, voice dripping with mockery. “What a pretty little prize. So fragile. So tender.” He reached out and brushed a stray hair from your face. “What should I do with you, huh?”

Bob’s hands clenched into fists, muscles trembling.

“You see,” the shooter said, “I could make her scream. Beg. Cry. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” He chuckled darkly. “Or… maybe I kill her. Right here. Right now. That’d be a shame.”

You shook violently, tears burning your eyes.

Bob’s voice cracked as he whispered, “Please… please don’t. I swear I’ll do whatever you want.”

The shooter leaned in closer, voice low and cruel. “You’d watch her die, wouldn’t you? And not even be able to move. Pathetic.”

Bob’s breath hitched, but he didn’t release you.

“Look at me,” the shooter taunted. “I own this moment. This power. And you? You’re nothing.”

Time stretched.

You felt every heartbeat—every desperate breath.

Bob whispered over and over, “I love you. I love you.”

Then—

The gunfire shattered the silence.

Bullets tore through Bob’s shoulder and chest.

He grunted but held you tighter.

And then the bullets went through him—into you.

You screamed.

His arms never loosened.

“I’ve got you,” he gasped.

You clung to him, tears mixing with blood.

“I love you,” you sobbed.

“You first,” he whispered.

And then—

The world went black.

———

The news hit the squadron like a thunderclap.

Phoenix dropped her coffee, the sound shattering the usual hum of the Hard Deck.

“Bob’s…” she whispered, voice breaking.

Maverick’s eyes darkened as he heard the details. Not just Bob. You, too. Both gone.

She hadn’t known you. Not well. But the way Bob talked—how his eyes softened when he said your name—made it clear you were everything to him.

⸻

Maverick called every favor he had.

There was no family for you—no one left to claim you, no one to fight for a proper goodbye.

But Maverick wasn’t about to let you be forgotten.

He pulled strings, made calls. Navy protocol bent by a grizzled old pilot who knew love wasn’t always in the ranks.

⸻

The day of the funeral was cold and clear.

Rows of uniforms, flags folded sharp and precise.

Side by side, you were laid to rest.

The Navy gave you both every honor they could muster.

⸻

Maverick stood before the assembled squadron, voice steady but heavy.

“I taught Bob how to fly,” he said. “But she taught him how to live.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“They weren’t married. They didn’t wear dog tags. But make no mistake—this was a love worth honoring.”

He looked out at the faces—young pilots, friends, family.

“She had no one left. But she had Bob. And in the end, that was more than most people ever get.”

⸻

Phoenix wiped tears away.

Fanboy held his dog tags tight.

And somewhere deep inside, you both felt the weight of a love that transcended everything—even death.

Somewhere beyond the pain, beyond the grief, beyond the endless night—

Bob Floyd was still holding you.

And he always would.

[bobfloydsbabe]

dear reader | reporter!bob floyd x socialite!oc

SUMMARY: Robert Floyd's first assignment as a reporter is to cover high society gossip. Harriet Spencer is an almost engaged socialite who really isn't as vapid as she appears to be. They could not be more different, and yet there is a magnetic pull between them that soon becomes impossible to ignore...

WARNINGS: set in the mid 1930s, class difference, smoking, forced proximity, pining, angst, one vague masturbation reference. strictly 18+/minors dni

WORD COUNT: 1.2k (i think i blacked out)

A/N: Lew looked so good at the Thunderbolts* premiere tonight. Did y'all see his hair? His suit? That's the reason this exists. Thank you @attapullman for always raving about Lew with me. Enjoy!

“Those things will kill you, you know.”

He’d know that voice anywhere. In a crowded room where he can barely hear himself think. Whispered in the dark, with miles between them. A laugh across the street. Hushed breaths haunting his dreams. It’s a voice that draws you in much like the woman it belongs to.

He hums, blowing out smoke until a pale grey cloud rises to the sky, becoming one with the nighttime clouds.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker, Mr. Floyd.” She’s closer now, her voice a sweet melody in his ears. He wants to wrap it around him like a cloak and carry it home. At least then he’ll have some part of her to cling to.

He’ll still see her—an unfortunate circumstance of the job—but she will truly be out of reach. She was never his, but once that ring is on her finger, she’s lost to him, and seeing her being paraded around that stuffy ballroom made him crave something. Anything to settle the sinking feeling in his stomach. The aching sensation of a loss he has no business feeling.

She stops next to him, slight and elegant hands resting against the cold concrete railing. She’s stunning. The dress, a silvery waterfall of fabric and gemstones, fits her like the gloves she’s long since discarded. She hates the feeling of them on her skin. Her mother hates that she can’t keep them on for longer than an hour, but has long since given up trying to get her to keep them on.

“It’s a special occasion,” he says finally. His voice is even and eerily calm. He betrays none of the turmoil raging inside his head, the blood pulsing in his veins, or the cold sweat at the back of his neck.

She quirks her head to the side, a crinkle between her brows he longs to smooth out with his thumb.

“Oh, yeah?” He nods. “What is it?”

He shrugs. The sound from the party is as loud as ever. Even behind the mostly closed doors, he can hear glasses clinking and meaningless chatter. He can hear it, but the only thing that matters is the sound of her breathing. Right next to him. So close he can almost taste her.

She hums and he can practically hear the mischief woven into that single note. When he finally looks at her, she’s grinning at him and her eyes are gleaming with scheming. “Miss Spencer.” It’s a warning, but she ignores him. Of course she does.

“Let’s play a game,” she suggests and adjusts the pearls around her neck. “I’ll be the reporter and find out why you’re out here being grumpy while smoking.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re not a reporter.”

“I am now,” she says, snatching his notepad and pen from his front breast pocket. “Now, tell me why you’re out here sulking.”

“Miss Spencer, give those back.” He stubs the cigarette, letting the bud sit on the railing to throw out after this supposed game is over.

She puts the end of the pen to her lips with a contemplative look on her face that he should not find as erotic as he does. Paying attention to her pretty pink mouth has only ever gotten him in trouble. Mostly that trouble has to do with his right hand and hard cock, but he’s really trying to not think about that right now.

Her hazel eyes focus on his face, and he can’t help but hold her gaze. A tug at the corner of his mouth has him schooling his features back to neutral. She steps closer. The heat of her overtakes him and his head starts spinning. She’s intoxicating.

“What is going on in the big bad reporter’s brain? Was your editor mean to you?” She pauses. Considers. “Did he scold you for being too honest? Told you not to write anything unfavorable in case it upsets the elite.” She looks at him, assessing. His editor had in fact said something similar, but he’s not about to tell Harriet Spencer that.

She hums again, more inquisitively this time. She steps closer and their shoes are now touching. He can feel her breath on his face. He licks his lips without meaning to. “No, that’s not it either,” she concludes.

“Please,” he says, like it’s painful. Because it is. “Give those back.”

She smirks, leaning forward. He doesn’t flinch.

“Tell me why you’re grumpy and I will.”

He can’t breathe. “I’m not grumpy.”

“Sure, you are. I’ve never seen you smoke. You actively avoid the people who do, which is everyone, I might add, and that can only mean you’re grumpy about something.” She smiles, clearly proud of her deduction. “I know you, Mr. Floyd. Like it or not.” I like it, he thinks. I like it more than I should.

He takes a long steadying breath, then meets her eyes. “There’s this woman,” he begins.

Her eyes light up before he can say anything else. “Mr. Floyd, you’ve been holding out on me,” she scolds him, but there’s no harshness in her tone. “I can’t believe you have a special lady out there and didn’t tell me.”

He doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t quite know how to convey everything going through this mind and body without sounding like a madman and scaring her off. “She’s special alright,” he tells. “But she’s not mine.”

Her face drops, a pout forming on those kissable lips.

“Why not?”

The sigh that escapes him is long and heavy, pained. “She’s about to be engaged to someone else.”

Her frown deepens. “How do you know?”

“Everyone knows.”

“Does she know how you feel?”

He shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “No.” He scrubs with chin, letting the feeling of his prickly stubble calm him a little. “No, but it doesn’t matter. We can never be together.”

“That’s absurd.” She seems truly horrified and completely oblivious. “If you love her, you should be together.” She’s so incredulous that he finds it hard not to smile. She’s the one who’s going to marry a man her parents picked for her, even though there isn’t an ounce of love between them.

“Yeah.” He forces himself not to lean his forehead against hers. “Yeah, we should.”

She’s quiet for so long, he almost cups her cheeks to check she’s still breathing, but then she holds the notepad and pen out to him. “I don’t think I want to play reporter anymore.” He takes them and places them back in his breast pocket. “This wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

“You thought stealing my work tools would be fun?”

She grins then. “Yes,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But I’ve decided you’re allowed to be grumpy. It hurts when we can’t have the person we want the most.”

His heart stops. He might be dying.

She kisses his cheek, lips lingering closer to his mouth than what is appropriate by any standard. “I think you’re pretty special,” she whispers against his skin and pulls back, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. “Goodnight, Mr. Floyd.”

He’s not sure how long he stands there in the middle of the balcony grinning like a fool. Honestly, he doesn’t really care.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGGING PEOPLE WHO SHOWED INTEREST: @lewmagoo, @phoenix-rising-starbird-one, @nerdgirljen, @floydsmuse, @mustaaarrd, @ryebecca, @sio-ina-bottle, @sebsxphia, @anxious-alto, @withahappyrefrain, @codelew, @joaquinwhorres

this is not an official taglist. please follow @bobfloydsbabe-library for updates.

[withahappyrefrain]

Abby! For the kiss prompts, could I request #9 (in public) with Bob and Teacher!Reader? 🍎 Very self-indulgent on my part 😂

- @bradshawsbaby 💕

But that's the joy of fanfic! We get to be self-indulgent!

"Mrs. Floyd? You're needed in the front office."

After hanging up the phone, you let out a sigh, looking at your lunch longingly.

This would happen during your lunch period, one of the few chances where you get time to yourself. No meetings, no kids, no questioning or yelling.

You loved your job. You weren't sure what else you'd want to do other than teaching. But the last few weeks had been seemingly endless and mentally draining.

It didn't help that your husband was gone.

By now, you should be a pro when it comes to Bob being deployed.

In a way, you were much better now at the beginning, had found enough projects and hobbies to occupy you, to keep your brain busy and far away from the fact your husband was somewhere halfway across the world.

But after a month, the loneliness and anxiety would seep in. Bob was out there, risking his life instead of being at home with you. Waking up alone to half of an empty bed instead of with him. His return always uncertain.

It made the long, particularly draining days of teaching much harder. Instead of being embraced by your husband's strong arms, you opened the door to an empty house.

Maybe things would be easier if you had a set return date. But even Bob wasn't sure of that.

So with a deep sigh, you put your lunch back in your bag, accepting it'll most likely go uneaten. The trek upstairs to the main office felt longer than usual, your feet feeling heavy with each step.

But instead of your useless principal or an irate parent waiting in the main office, you were met with a man who had eyes bluer than the ocean and a smile sweeter than honey.

"Bobby!"

No longer caring where you were, you threw your arms around your husband, kissing him for the first time in months.

"Hey darlin," Bob smiled into the kiss, also feeling relieved to have you back in his arms.

"What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to see my wife now that I'm back." His cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue that always managed to tug on your heartstrings.

"Couldn't wait until I was home?" You teased, not that you were complaining.

"And not spend time with you?"

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, Bob knew you had to work, he was literally at your school-

"Your team arranged a sub for you. They made sub plans and everything. Just need to get your bag and we're good to leave," Bob revealed.

Your heart soared at the news, pulling him into another hug.

You were so happy, you nearly forgot that the main office was right by the cafeteria.

"Who is Mrs. Floyd kissing?"

"That's not Mrs. Floyd!"

"Yes it is!"

"She kissed him!"

"Is that Mr. Floyd?"

"That's not Mr. Floyd."

"Yes it is Liam!"

"I think we've been discovered," Bob whispered, unable to hide his smile as your students peered through the window.

[roosterbruiser]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?” 

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips. 

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers. 

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?” 

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family. 

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!” 

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!” 

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin. 

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.” 

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup. 

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.” 

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly. 

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand. 

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.  

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on. 

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!” 

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!” 

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.” 

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!” 

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.” 

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.” 

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.” 

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.  

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!” 

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss. 

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched. 

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.” 

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out. 

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says. 

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!” 

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?” 

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!” 

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.” 

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched. 

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says. 

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins. 

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker. 

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly. 

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously. 

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.” 

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back. 

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.” 

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him. 

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!” 

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.” 

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life. 

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms. 

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.” 

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink. 

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!” 

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.  

Bob looks at you--you’re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh. 

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all. 

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.” 

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy. 

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

[t1red-twilight]

nerves

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, suggestive themes, mdni, making out, bobby’s nervous to meet your friends, probably awkward or airline mistakes because i took my meds lol

wc: 2k

masterlist b. f. masterlist

bobby had gotten home during the mid-day, had given you a kiss, then immediately jumped in the shower. you weren’t necessarily complaining about him washing the grime off of his body, you were merely just antsy to see him. the last few weeks were full of brief but frequent calls, with rooster or fanboy butting in occasionally.

you appreciated the relationship bob had with his coworkers, they were more like family now than anything. that didn’t mean that you weren’t at least a little peeved that your minute amount of time with bobby was interrupted. but, it didn’t matter anymore. bobby was home now, and for a few months before his next assignment.

the plans for the evening were to meet with some of your friends to have dinner. these plans had sparked when several of your friends complained that they hadn’t met bobby enough times to actually gauge whether or not he was a good pick.

you watched as bob lazily traipsed around the room getting ready for the evening. the tension in his shoulders implied a little discomfort or stress. “you okay, robby?” you asked. you looked him over once or twice, noticing how he fidgeted with his hands.

he shrugged, not the answer you were hoping for. “bobby,” you continued, “cmon. are you okay? we can stay home if you’d like.” you’d get shit from your friends for sure, but if that was the better option for him you could just go out yourself.

he looked at you, his brow knit together. “we shouldn’t cancel, that’d be rude. it’s just-“ he lowered his voice a tad, and he sounded just a tiny bit shaky. “i’m nervous that your friends won’t like me. they’ve only met me in passing.” you ran your hands up and down his arms.

you moved your arms to wrap around his neck and toyed with the curls at the nape. “they’ll love you. i promise.” you knew your friends would, first of all. second of all, you knew their romantic history didn’t stand a chance against bob. “you’re better than anyone they’ve ever introduced to me.” and that was the truth. robert floyd was practically a prince charming straight out of a fairy tale book.

he rested his hands on your wrists, dragging his thumbs back and forth. “all my friends love you, i want all your friends to love me.” you’d gotten drinks with bob’s crew a couple times and seresin had gotten a little too drunk and tried (poorly) to interrogate you. when he couldn’t find anything, he’d given up and tried to order another beer but had been stopped by rooster very quickly.

but you knew that your friends would love bobby, he just needed to be himself: sweet, caring, and bring his dry, kind of sarcastic sense of humor. he’d fit in just right, you just knew it.

bob looked down, and you craned your neck to meet his gaze. “they will! i promise. you just gotta be yourself. they’ll love you.” you leaned in close to him, and gave him one short kiss. you ran your thumb over his lips once afterward. “if anything, they kinda have to. i’m never going to want anyone but you.”

bob laid down on the bed, the ruffled sheets acted as a halo around his body. you crawled on the bed after him, sitting on your haunches as you look at him for a moment. his eyes were closed, and he looked as if he could be asleep.

bob’s hand lifted and moved to atop your knee. his thumb moved back and forth, tracing circles into your skin. he then grabbed your hand and tugged your arm. you scooted closer to him and put your face right up next to his. he peeked one eye open and grinned at you.

you placed one kiss on his cheek, and then the other. you inched even closer to him and straddled his waist, leaning forward to hover above him. you took his face in your hands. bobby looked so soft and giddy in this moment, and it almost made up for the months you had to go without seeing him.

you kissed the spot between his brows, and took his glasses off and placed them on the nightstand to the left of the bed. you kissed the bridge of his nose and felt it scrunch beneath your lips. you kissed either of his cheeks again, and he smiled, laughing softly. you kissed the corner of his mouth and pulled away.

bobby opened his eyes and smiled up at you. he cupped your cheeks and squished them together, making you laugh. his thumb stroked circles again, this time on your cheekbone. “you missed,” he mumbled.

“hmm?” you hummed in question. this time, he tilted his chin upward and kissed the corner of your mouth.

he settled his head back down on the pillow. “like that. you missed.” a coy smile settled itself onto his face. you tipped your head back, laughing at how forward he was being. usually, bobby was not this up front about what he wanted, typically opting for hints and wordless gestures.

bobby tilted your face back down to him. he merely looked at you for a little. his eyes scanned over your face; he looked at your eyes, your jawline, then down to your lips. he looked back up at your eyes, then back at your lips. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling a little vulnerable at just how much he was observing you.

his thumb ran over your top lip before lightly tugging your bottom lip out from between your teeth. “here,” he smiled. he craned his neck up just a bit so that his lips could meet yours. he started off slowly, kissing you the way wind moves the leaves on trees and flows through the grass.

you tilted your head to the side and brought a hand up to his hair. a noise emitted from his throat: a strangled noise that was a mix of a chuckle and a grunt. your tongue ran over his bottom lip, and he parted his lips in response. you began to lick into his mouth fervently, bobby returning the favor.

bob’s other hand rested against the curve of your back, pulling your torso impossibly closer to his. it had been way too long; too many nights replaying his phone calls just needing some relief that you couldn’t fully provide yourself.

one of bob’s legs slotted between your own, and you felt his pull you up just a little bit to get a closer angle. something warm fluttered in your stomach. he was always so bold when he hadn’t seen you in a while.

you had brushed your teeth before he had gotten home, and presently you were really really grateful at that act. you sighed deeply, you gave on his neck running through his hair. you tugged lightly, and bobby nipped your bottom lip again, pulling it less than before but this time he ran his tongue over where he bit.

you have him a few more brief kisses, weaning away so that you wouldn’t lose track of time. during each one he followed your lips trying desperately to continue kissing you as he pleased.

when you finally pulled away for good, you pressed your forehead against his as he relaxed against the pillows. his lips were kiss bruised, and you were sure that yours were too. a small bit of saliva sat atop his lips. his cheeks were a pretty shade of pink- a regular thing you had caught onto after a few dates. you never got over the butterflies rumbling in your stomach, and it seemed neither did he.

you sighed again and picked up your phone to check the time. you’d have to leave in ten minutes to make the dinner you’d planned with your own friends, seeing as they were teasing you about not knowing bob that well. there were threats of digging up his information through the internet if needed, and even a couple of jeers that he wasn’t real and you were making him up to save face.

“he’s way too perfect,” one of your friends had said. “the one time i met him he was so smiley and wouldn’t stop turning red every time you looked at him.” sure, you knew that this was bob’s first serious relationship (yours too), but your friend was definitely exaggerating.

tracing bobby’s ear, you spoke up. “we have to leave in ten if we don’t want to be late.” he grunted out again, this time in fake annoyance. he kissed the tip of your nose and you scrunched it at the contact, smiling down at him.

“can’t we just wait a little longer?” he kissed the spot where your ear met your cheek. “i finally have you alone, without mickey breathing down my neck.” you laughed at this, he was being sarcastic; fanboy loved you, and loved when bob called you. you’d definitely have to set him up with someone.

you kissed him again, but it ended far too soon for your liking. “we should probably be on time, wanna set a good precedent.” plus you don’t think you could deal with the ramifications of the connotations of being late in the group chat later.

bob let a playful whine. “ugh, fine,” he sassed. his shoulders had released their tension and bob seemed much more at ease now. you knew bobby wouldn’t let you be late, he was a bit of a stickler for punctuality; a product of his upbringing and the navy, you had figured.

you raised an eyebrow. “hey, don’t get sassy with me. if you push it, i’ll sleep on my own side of the bed tonight.” bob’s face filled with faux outrage and he shook his head in a ‘no’ vigorously. “okay, fine,” you mimicked. “we have to leave now, but we can leave dinner early.” you dragged out the last word, watching the realization dawn on his face at what you were hinting at.

bob flipped you to your side, and got off the bed speedily. “sounds good to me!” he said, much too chipper. faster than lightning, he was up and about, trying to get out of the house as soon as he possibly could.

“hey! not too early, alright? i at least want to get through dessert.” you followed him as he quickly put on his shoes and got ready to go. he had grabbed his glasses in the whirlwind of his rush to get out of the house and had put them on in the short amount of time it had taken him to get to the front door.

bobby opened the door for you, and led you outside down to the car. “early is still early. and that means i get more of you tonight.” he raised his voice at the end, and waggled his eyebrows up and down. he winked at you, and you cringed only slightly.

“don’t say it like that. you sound like the intro to a lackluster porno.” bob opened the passenger’s side door for you. he held your hand as you got inside and closed the door after you, making sure not to catch any clothing or limbs.

he walked around to his side and got in. “alright, what ever you say, honey.” he gave you another corny wink as he held out his hand for you to hold. you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together over the center of the car. you lifted your hands and kissed the back of his once. he mirrored you and repeated the action to your hand.

“but,” you held up your free hand in a gesture of defeat. “next time you come home i won’t make plans for the night you’re back. i’ll give you just a few days of just me, if that’s what you’d like.” his eyes glanced over to you, scanning your expression.

he looked over at you, a glimmer of something caught in his eye. “sounds great to me!” you laughed as he leaned over the center console of the car to give you another kiss.

[sorchathered]

As you wish

Summary- Bob, Mickey and their girlfriends go on an adventure to the local renaissance faire, but how can Bob be expected to keep his hands or thoughts to himself when you look like the fairy princess of his wildest dreams?

Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- language, drinking, smut, knife play if you squint.

It was probably the hottest day of the summer, but that hadn’t deterred any of you from gearing up in your painstakingly hand crafted costumes and caravanning down the highway to Escondido for the Renaissance festival. Fanboy and his girlfriend and you and your newly minted fiancée Robert Floyd had been playing dnd with a group in Coronado for about 2 years now, that’s how all of you had met. You were putting signs up for the new campaign at the library, and Bob happened upon the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, feet carrying him to the bulletin board before his brain caught up with what he was doing. He’d been shy but charming, and you had enthusiastically convinced him to join your group later in the week to try it out. He’d never played before but he new for sure that Mickey had, so with a little (a lot) of begging and promises to buy his beers at the Hard Deck that weekend, the both of them turned up at the community center in Coronado to join the band of misfits they would soon call a second family.

It had turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made if he was honest, the two of you had gone out for coffee after the first meeting and had been inseparable ever since. Two years later and he would follow you anywhere, you were quite literally like a fairy, full of bright energy, quick witted and downright ethereal with your wide shining eyes and angelic features, he truly didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky. You’d kept your costume a secret all month, carefully curating little bits and pieces and as you crossed the threshold into your bedroom he had the thought to just stay home and ravish you all day. A beautiful green peasant dress was split at the hip, the skirt frilly and flowing down past your knees, with a beautiful laced up corset starting at your waist and pushing your cleavage impossibly high on your chest, he was definitely salivating and couldn’t seem to snap out of his trance until you skipped over and tapped his nose. “Hmm? What? I’m sorry baby, what did you say?” He wasn’t subtle at all and you giggled as you leaned into him to pepper kisses along his cheeks and slotting yourself between his thighs. “I take it you like what you see my strong, powerful warlock…buuuut I don’t think we have time for what you have in mind so get dressed handsome it’s time to go!” You say with a laugh as you step out of his arms and skitter down the hall with a cackle. Good Lord, he was going to lose his mind watching you all day, as he heaved himself off the bed he heard you holler down the hallway, “oh and baby just wait until you see my wings!” He groaned again at the thought and trudged to the bathroom to take an ice cold shower, grumbling about his temptress fairy princess and how he’d rather stay home.

You couldn’t have had a better time if you tried, somehow you and Mickey’s girlfriend Lana had convinced the boys to dress up as well, and you both had to admit there was something to be said about watching them walk around in billowy shirts looking like they’d just stepped out of a Tolkien novel. The boys were having the time of their lives, drinking ale from giant wooden tankards and consuming their weight in turkey legs, while the two of you girls bought glittery potion bottles and crystal necklaces from the local vendors. Finally heading home as the sun went down you peeked through the rear view at the drunken rogue and warlock passed out in your backseat and giggled, you just hoped Bob would be alert enough for what you had planned for the evening when you got home.

After safely depositing Lana and Mickey at home, your knight in shining armor clambered into the front seat, bright eyes full of mirth as he looked you over, his fingers had been itching to loosen your corset strings all day and if he was honest he was a little hard at the thought of letting you ride him with nothing but your fairy wings on. You fortunately were on the same page, impatiently ushering him through the doorway and down the hall as you groped at him and sucked on his tongue, you’d always wanted to role play as your characters but had been too scared to ask, but now looking at Bob’s flushed cheeks as he toyed with the laces of your corset you knew he was absolutely into this.

“Can I help you handsome? See something you like?” You said as you turned in his arms, looking up at him through your lashes and rubbing your body all over his. “Fu- I- I see a lot of things that I like my lady, think you should show me what’s hiding under this gown, can’t be too careful can I? Fairies are known for their trickery.” He says as he leans in to suck a mark behind your ear and begins unlacing your corset, tantalizingly slow as he continues to nibble at your neck and collarbone, nimble fingers untangling the laces and smoothing over exposed skin as your dress begins to loosen and slip from your frame. “I don’t know what you mean sir, we fairies are a peaceful lot, I would be a fool to try and get the upper hand on such a strong, powerful warlock such as you” you say with a cheeky grin, sliding the dagger you’d bought today from your thigh holster and pressing it into his side. “Hmmf, exactly like I said, tricky business dealing with fairies” he huffed out a laugh and raised his hands, letting you lower him to his knees in front of you. You switched to your normal voice as you lifted his chin, stroking the stubble that you always loved him to have on the weekends. “What’s your color baby?” “Green, so so fucking green, You’re a dream come true you know that?” He said as he smoothed calloused palms across the back of your thighs, taking your thumb into his mouth and sucking it, drawing a whimper from you as you nodded furiously at him.

“If you wanted to check me for weapons all you needed to do was ask, but since I have you on your knees, why don’t you put that smart mouth to task on something useful” you said you hooked your leg over his shoulder and pulled him close to your core, as fun as the banter had been you were wound up and needed him to touch you. He ran his nose along your underwear, teasing you with little nips to the side of your thighs and pulled back to look at you again, disappointment crossed your features and he chuckled and pinched your ass from under your skirt. “I think you might want to roll for persuasion sweetheart, I could draw this out a little longer if I’m honest, but I wouldn’t be opposed to you begging for it.” You blinked down at him a little stunned, that cocky son of a bitch, he knew exactly how to play you. “Oh- oh that’s mean. Fine. Give me your dice then, I know you bought new ones today.” He definitely did buy a new set today, and he would be lying if this wasn’t absolutely hilarious to him so he pulled them from his pocket and placed them in your hand, throwing his head back and laughing at the irritated look on your face as you shook the dice and tossed them at his feet. “Ha! D20! You heard me Warlock, put that silver tongue of yours to good use or I’ll cut your throat where you stand.”

You feigned irritation but you’d get what you wanted, you both knew he’d never tell you no anyways, he ran his hands over your thighs again and began to slide your underwear down your legs, letting it dangle off the leg hanging from his shoulder and set to work, licking a stripe through your folds as he looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. Fuck he was always so good at this, eating at you in earnest as you ground against his face and tugged his hair, making out with your cunt and moaning into you like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Oh, oh fuck I’m there just like that” you breathed out and came hard on his tongue, he didn’t stop until you were overstimulated and pushing at him to stop, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and pulling himself up to grope your chest and kiss you. “What do you want my sweet fairy princess? I’m at your service my love.” “Want you to fuck me, need you inside me, claim me.” He was pretty sure you were trying to kill him, it wasn’t even his birthday and you were giving him his wildest dreams, he pulled the rest of your dress and corset off as you clawed at his shirt and pants trying to strip him down to nothing. Finally free of clothes his eyes roamed over you, you were perfect in every way but he still couldn’t get that one thought out of his head so he stepped around you to grab the wings you’d dropped and held them in front of you. “Can’t get it out of my head, what do you think baby? Ride me with the wings on?” He had the gall to look a little sheepish as his cheeks heated up, you’d never get over just how damn cute he was, he could be downright filthy but this is somehow what caused him to get shy on you. You slipped your arms through the holes and shoved him backwards into the bed climbing onto him and sliding his hard cock into you, rocking slowly with him as he sucked on your chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth as you cried out, oh God were you close again already? Shit maybe you two needed to start doing this more often, you felt like you were buzzing with electricity with every thrust, the small thatch of hairs at the base of him grazing your clit deliciously as you came hard for the second time, sending him tumbling over the edge with you as his teeth sank down into the juncture of your neck, painting your walls with his spend.

He made to roll you onto your back but you made him wait, your wings were expensive and you didn’t want him to crush them, so you slid them off and let them hit the floor, rolling him on top of you as you continued to kiss lazily. “Damn this could be a problem” he said with a grin and you looked up at him puzzled, “how am I ever supposed to go to dnd on Fridays with you when all I can think about is you rolling a d20 so I’d eat you out.” You both couldn’t stop your giggles, and when Friday rolled around and your DM suggested Bob roll for persuasion, you couldn’t help but giggle and wink at him, thinking about taking him home and donning your pretty wings for him again and how it should definitely become a regular event.

————————————————————————

Divider by- @strangergraphics

Tagging- @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @pinkdaisies9285 @hangmansgbaby @sugarcoated-lame @teacupsandtopgun

[thedroneranger]

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you. 

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.  

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance. 

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh. 

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship. 

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise. 

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform. 

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit. 

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited. 

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. 

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out. 

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen. 

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink. 

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends. 

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy. 

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!

A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈

Tag list: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @seitmai @abaker74 @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @beyondthesefourwalls @bradshawsprincess @damrlova @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @sweetwhispersofchaos @bellaireland1981 @fanboyswhore9 @hardballoonlove @catsandbooksandstuff @mygyn

[hellfirehopeless]

so cute! I need!

Build-A-Bear (Bob Floyd x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: Ever since you started dating Bob, his wardrobe’s had a serious glow-up, thanks to your love of dressing him up like your own personal Build-A-Bear. But on a lazy mall day, you challenge him to return the favor, asking him to pick out an outfit for you. WORD COUNT: 2.8k WARNINGS: Fluff/Domestic fluff, Reader loves gift giving, jokes/implications of smut. NOTES: Happy 4th! Here's me manifesting a boyfriend to dress up. MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

Dressing up Bob was Y/n’s favorite thing to do. And the man never protested. How could he when he’d show up to The Hard Deck in an outfit she had picked to impress the Dagger Squad? His style had improved drastically since starting to date her. 

It began with her giving him simple shirts that were a little nicer than his old ones. Some of his old shirts were still from high school, so it was nice to have some options that didn’t look like rags. She was a gift-giver, and Bob had to quickly get used to that. Then it slowly devolved to him asking her for fashion advice just to see her face light up with excitement. 

What Bob enjoyed about it, was that she never put him in clothes that didn’t match his vibe. She never tried to make him into someone he’s not- with leather jackets or sports jerseys. The outfits were usually simple and practical. A more simplistic T-shirt that fit him a little more snugly than his old ones, tucked into a nice pair of jeans or slacks. She’d find a matching baseball cap or dad hat. It had gotten to the point where they shared a collection of hats. They loved gifting each other caps, just to add to the pile they could dig through before leaving. 

And she never made him take off his glasses. She never asked him to get contacts. And when he asked her why she never suggested it, she smiled.

“I think they’re cute.” 

No one had ever said that before. The military-grade wireframes were just a little too big for his face, and they looked like they were plucked straight from an 80s movie. But they were the only ones he was allowed to wear that didn’t look like swim goggles. 

So when his girl said that, he couldn’t help the smile and red blush that spread across his apple cheeks. The compliment was so simple, yet every time he wore his glasses, he thought of it and felt his heart melt into a puddle.

It was a warm Saturday morning, and Bob walked into the bedroom to find his girlfriend combing through her closet. She popped her hip out and put her hand to her chin in thought. Bob leaned against the door frame.

“Where you headed?” He asked curiously

She turned, “I think it’s a good day to go to the mall. Wanna come with?” 

Bob nodded. A day at the mall with his girl sounded perfect, and it’s not like he had anything else to do. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, and she reached up to pat his cheek. As she scratched the back of his scalp, he closed his eyes relaxed. 

“Wanna dress me?” He asked

And he got the reaction he always did. A beaming smile from her and a very eager nod. 

“I was thinking about getting some new shirts for you today, too.” She said, smiling.

He chuckled, “Baby, you do too much.” 

She shrugged and looked at their reflection in the closet mirror. After a moment, a mischievous grin appeared on her face. 

“I have an idea.” 

Bob raised a brow. “Should I be scared?”

“I need some new clothes myself. How about… I dress you and you dress me? Maybe then you’ll understand why I love dressing you up so much.” 

He smiled shyly and shook his head. “Oh, I know nothing about fashion, though.”

“There’s gotta be things you wanna see me in.” She smirked a little, and that made Bob blush and huff again, “I mean- you like it when I wear certain things too.” He hated that his mind went immediately to her bathing suits. But then he also remembered some of the dresses she’d wear to The Hard Deck. He loved seeing her legs and anything that accentuated her hips. But he’d never specifically ask her to wear anything like that. He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable for his sake. 

“Okay, but we don’t have to buy anything I pick out.” He said softly

“It’ll be great. Here- why don’t we start at home first? Test run. I’ll dress you, then you dress me.” She said, turning around to be face to face him now.

He nodded.

Thirty minutes later, he stood in a typical Y/n fit for him. A white T-shirt, this one a little baggier, tucked into brow corduroy trousers and a belt. She put a navy blue hat on him that they had gotten from the Top Gun store. Well, he had bought it for her, and she loved making him wear it. Her tongue stuck out of her lip as she focused on adjusting his hair under the hat. A watch laid on his wrist, and he stood in a pair of brown Doc-like shoes.

“There.” She stood back, looking over his outfit, pleased with herself. “You look very handsome, Lieutenant Floyd.” 

He blushed at the title, “Only because of you.”

Her eyes lit up. “My turn.” She led him to the closet and opened it. “Go ahead. Have at it.” His eyes widened, and he walked up to her side of the closet. “I-I don’t even know where to start.”

She laughed, and he started combing through the racks. He tried to think of some outfits that she had worn before. What were some things that she liked to wear? It was a warmer day, but he also knew she got cold easily, so he needed to find something lightweight that covered her arms for when they were indoors. 

He brought out a soft green button-up top that he liked the material of. He showed it to her with a hesitant eyebrow raise, and she laughed.

“Yes, I can wear that.”

He looked back at the closet and went to the section of the bottoms. He found a pair of tan linen shorts and put the two hangers together. His brows scrunched up, trying to figure out if it was a good match before nodding to himself. The whole time, he could hear her giggle as she watched him through his thought process. He picked out a dark brown belt and a khaki Ralph Lauren jacket that he knew fit a little oversized on her. 

“Would this work?” He asked, showing her the hangers.

She smiled and looked over his choices. “Yes. I think this would be great.” 

After she got dressed, she spun for Bob. He did a pretty good job. No clashing colors and the fit of everything was nice. 

“Look at you. You’re a natural.” She commented, “I’m gonna wear this combination more.”

He was too busy staring in awe to respond. Yeah, he was starting to understand why she loved dressing him so much. She looked so pretty, and even though she always did in his eyes, he took this new sense of pride in picking that outfit. His hand was to his mouth as he admired her. She let the jacket hang over her shoulders, showing the outline of her body in the shirt and shorts. 

She noticed his silence and giggled, “You get it now?”

He nodded with a blushing smile. “Yes. Yes, I get it now.”

“It’s like having a human Build-A-Bear.” She nodded enthusiastically, making him suddenly laugh loudly.

“Yeah-yeah, I guess it’s a little like that.” He smiled. 

She put her hand out, and when he took it, she pulled him off the bed. She looked up at him, and his heart pounded in his chest. They’d been dating for close to two years at this point and he still got butterflies looking at her. And the fact that she was wearing the outfit he put together just intensified it. 

He gently brushed her hair out of her face.

“Ready to go, pretty girl?” He asked

She nodded, “Yup! Wanna hit Hard Deck after the mall? I think Bradley said something about wanting to get a group to go tonight.”

“Would love to.” He kissed her forehead.

Usually at H&M, it was Y/n scouring the sales racks while Bob followed her around like a lost dog. He’d sometimes hold onto a bag of greasy mall food so they could share. She’d look through both the men's and women's sections because she knew there’d be stuff for either one of them. And he’d talk and joke with her. If she pulled out a shirt for him, he’d say whether he liked it or not, which was usually a passive yes. 

But now he was trying to participate with her. She looked up at him with a smile as he looked through the racks… Still lost. He picked out what seemingly looked like a strip of fabric. 

“Is this a… skirt? Or a bandana?” He asked 

She laughed, “Tube top. I don’t really wear those much.”

He put it back. “Alrighty.” He timidly looked around. 

She gasped and grabbed a sage green Carhartt sweater. “This would be very cute on you. What do you think?” 

He rubbed his neck with a smile, “Baby, you know I’ll wear quite literally anything. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughed and draped the sweater on her arm. “Here, I’ll give you some pointers for me. I don’t wear many tube tops. Any tight clubbing dresses won’t really be of use to me because I have some already. So I’m looking for just nicer casual clothes.”

He nodded, understanding. Okay, that narrows it down. Combing through the racks, he still wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Yeah, sure, there were graphic T-shirts that said Harvard and New York on them, but he was a little confused, considering neither of them had a connection there. Why would they wear something with a random city or college on it?

Then he paused once he hit the dresses. His eyes immediately froze on a short white halter dress, and when he looked closer, he found little embroidered cherries all over it. He pictured her wearing it, and a small smile appeared on his face. But he also didn’t know if this was casual enough. He also couldn’t tell if she’d find it tacky, which he knew she tended to do with prints. 

He looked up and saw her looking down another aisle. She heard him pause and looked over her shoulder. “Find something?”

“I don’t know.” He said conflicted, “I don’t know if you’ll like it.” She walked over to the opposite side of his rack. “Show me.”

He pulled out the dress and held it up delicately- as if it were a bomb.

“That’s so cute! I’ll try it on.” She smiled, “Pick some more out.”

Bob sighed with relief and nodded. 

Somehow, in thirty minutes, Bob ended up finding more things for her to try on than vice versa. Her face lit up at that fact, and she was practically skipping to the dressing rooms. They swapped hangers, and she went first. Now this was something Bob was a little more used to. He’d sit on the designated boyfriend couch or chair that most dressing rooms had, and wait for her to come out to show him the options.

But now it felt a little different. Now he was actively involved instead of a passive spectator. There felt like stakes- like if he didn’t pick out anything good, he’d be walking out a little embarrassed.

“BOB!” She squealed from inside the dressing room, and he perked up nervously. Oh god. Did he get the wrong size? Did she hate it? “You’re good at this!” She giggled.

He sighed in relief again. 

She came out a few seconds after in a simple white V-neck sweater with a navy blue stripe across it. A fitted denim skirt showed underneath, and Bob felt like he was going to die. It showed off her legs, and she looked simply beautiful in the outfit. The grin on his face couldn’t be replicated.

She posed and gave a little spin, and his whole face went completely red. And this was just outfit one. “I like it! This is definitely a keeper.” 

“I-I really like it. You look comfy.” 

“The material is so nice.” She said, feeling the soft fabric of the sweater.

He nodded. He couldn’t lie that the feel of the fabric was really a driving factor. It was already a reason why he picked out the shirt she was wearing that day. He liked being able to hold her and feel something soft rather than something hard and tight.

She went back into the dressing room, and Bob was unsure if he was gonna survive this. 

There were a few more outfits. A sleeveless polo top with some nice jeans. A few retro-looking oversized shirts, he knew she’d probably pair with some bike shorts. And then a few nicer blouses that were more of a gamble for him to decide. 

“I’d say yes to all of these if we had the money.” She chuckled in a blouse and the shorts she came in wearing. “I think I’m gonna go with that sweater, the jeans, and a few of the shirts. But I’ve still got that dress to try on.” 

He nodded. Hell, he’d buy the rest of the clothes for her. His love language was much more acts of service and physical touch. But this whole trip was making him understand why she’d come home with a new shirt or cap for him after a day out. 

She walked back in and, after a few moments, peeked her head out the door. 

“Oh. I’m getting this.” She said with an excited smirk before walking out.

Bob’s eyes popped out of his skull as she came out in the little white dress that he had picked out. It fit her perfectly and wrapped snugly around her waist before flaring out. The deep cut of the halter was well… pleasing to Bob for a multitude of reasons. 

“I’m gonna wear this tonight.” She declared, giving him a spin.

“Jesus C-hrist-” He stammered, his heart hammering and all the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She said, laughing. “I love it. Jeez, I’m taking you with me shopping more often. You find good stuff.”

He nodded eagerly. “Please.” His voice was small.

That night at The Hard Deck, the couple walked in dressed in their new clothes. Y/n strutted in her new dress and a pair of sandals. She had decorated herself with jewelry and put her hair up. Bob held her hand in a maroon Henley with a white tee underneath. A pair of dark wash jeans down his legs and the same navy blue hat from earlier. They slightly matched, but it wasn’t in a cheesy way. His layered shirts matched the print on her dress.

As they walked up to the usual pool table, Hangman whistled at their arrival.

“Look at you two! All dolled up for little old us.” He teased

Phoenix looked up as she was leaning on the pool table, aiming. Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy all turned and smiled.

“We went to the mall today!” Y/n reported excitedly.

Bob nodded in confirmation.

“God bless you, Y/n. Bob actually looks presentable now.” Phoenix said before shooting her ball and sending a solid into a pocket.

Rooster snorted, “Yeah, he’s not wearing anything to do with the Navy or video games. He didn’t know a damn thing about dressing himself.” 

The group laughed, and Bob smiled, shrugging.

“Well, actually, Bob picked out this dress for me, too,” She explained.

“No shot.” Payback laughed.

“It’s true!” She said, “I found out today he’s way too good at picking out clothes for me. Almost bought a whole new wardrobe.”

Phoenix eyed the dress, “Good job, Bob.”

Bob smiled shyly. “She’s always picking out my clothes, so she asked me to do the same for her. It’s-it’s fun.”

Hangman lined his shot up, clearly his turn. “Take the man to Victoria’s Secret next.” Rooster smacked him upright the head. “WHAT? I’m just saying. Every guy loves that.”

Y/n gasped with a smile, “Wait! That’s genius.”

Bob choked and coughed in shock, making the group laugh again. 

“You’re welcome,” Hangman smirked, shooting the ball.

She looked over at Bob with a mischievous smile. Leaning in, she whispered, “You’re off tomorrow, right?”

He nodded, and she simply flashed him a knowing look and then went over to properly greet Fanboy and Payback. Bob stood frozen and blinking, admiring how gorgeous she looked. Especially as she laughed, her glossed lips curving up. Her golden necklace flashed under the warm lights of the bar, and it rested right on the skin revealed in her halter. It made his breath hitch. 

A new sense of excitement built up in him. Considering she loved to dress herself, he knew it wouldn’t be an everyday thing. But he looked forward to the next time she’d ask him what to wear- now that he knew what it felt like to see her proudly show off his handiwork. That had to be another reason why she loved to dress him. He had her name written all over him. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[pinkdaisies9285]

Shiny Rings and Forgotten Means

Bob x Reader

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

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

Word Count: 983

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I do Dove,” he replied.

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

“Start our Honeymoon,” Bobby said still smirking.

You definitely were in for a ride.

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Liked this? Please leave a comment/reblog/like!

Main Masterlist

[sebsxphia]

shopping lists.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

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

￫ word count: 3.3K.

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

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

Bob was starving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No other reason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s what he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. Tomatoes.”

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

“Fuck! Tomatoes.”

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

“Hello again.”

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

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

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

“I forgot some tom—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck. 

Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.

He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob. 

"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."

Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."

She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.

"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."

He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."

"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."

Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder. 

"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"

She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.

"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."

"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"

"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.

"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."

"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"

"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."

Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was. 

"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"

Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."

Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house. 

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

"Dr. Webber."

Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.

In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.

"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help. 

She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.

It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look. 

The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.

WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!

If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.

Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch. 

If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again. 

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."

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

"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."

But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale. 

"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison. 

It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.

With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"

"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet. 

"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."

Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?

But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.

"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."

"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"

Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.

"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now. 

"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."

Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"

"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself. 

She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches. 

"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.

"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"

"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.

"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."

"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."

Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.

"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.

Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head. 

"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot. 

Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"

"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?" 

"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"

"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"

"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"

"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"

"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."

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

Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

[writingdumpster]

not afraid

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

warnings: none

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

word count: 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Definitely yes,” he spit out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love you too.”