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withahappyrefrain · 3 months

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Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you.

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it.

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new.

It also brought up many questions.

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you.

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face.

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp.

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four.

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner.

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated.

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.”

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them.

At least that's what the other thought.

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up.

“Been awhile?”

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought.

“Try never.”

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt.

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest.

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?”

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied.

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation.

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you.

Darn those long limbs.

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain.

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.”

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?”

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people.

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship.

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else?

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?”

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different.

You rubbed your thighs together.

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?”

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee.

Have his hands always been so big and veiny?

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands?

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?”

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing.

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point?

“You…like doing it?”

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.”

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work.

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual.

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.”

“You don't have to wait.”

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking.

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear.

You heard me.

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational.

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left.

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body.

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.”

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo.

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up.

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching.

For what, you couldn't tell.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you want it to be different?”

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back.

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe.

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained.

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special.

He was never that way with the other girls he dated.

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter.

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching.

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut.

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said.

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were.

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his.

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild.

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt.

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.”

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to.

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable.

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations.

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips.

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were.

How could he do that so quickly?

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight.

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth.

Thank god your parents were on vacation.

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off.

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch.

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you.

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet.

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier.

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.

He laughed. Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet.

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it.

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit.

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out.

Good.

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible.

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled.

And he had just gotten started.

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time.

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away.

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Robby.”

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century.

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving.

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch.

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up.

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible.

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did.

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it.

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued. Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard.

Why did either of you wait this long?

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth.

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy.

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out.

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you.

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release.

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under.

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time.

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt.

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours.

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his.

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.”

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid?

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick-

Jesus Christ, he was huge.

“Fuck, she was right.”

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?”

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once.

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?”

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform.

“I….we can unpack this later-”

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?”

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick.

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful.

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock.

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.”

Darlin. You were his darlin.

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears.

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy.

Even he didn't know when he would return home.

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship.

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern.

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes.

“I don't want you to go.”

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them.

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you.

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.”

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his.

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards.

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.”

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory.

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him.

He was going to need it for the next few months.

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere.

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension.

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask.

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things.

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to.

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed.

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.”

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-”

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock.

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was.

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious.

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars.

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls.

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him.

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.”

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer.

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd.

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group.

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus.

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria.

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it.

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock.

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?”

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release.

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his.

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body.

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go.

You’d be a damn fool to.

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob.

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?”

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.”

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?”

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?”

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter.

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?”

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple.

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?”

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

#my writing #Bob Floyd #Robert Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #Bob fucks #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #Bob Floyd smut #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction

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starshideurfics · 14 days

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Can’t go home alone

steddie, aob, hurt/comfort, established secret relationship

I just can’t leave this concept alone 🥰

Pain pulses over and behind and around Steve’s eye along with the beat of his heart. It isn’t as bad as it was even an hour ago, and definitely not as bad as when he and Robin puked their guts out in the movie theater restroom.

But his head hurts. His chest hurts. And he just wants to curl up in his nest and hope his parents don’t come home in time to see him like this.

But the paramedic checking him says he’s definitely got a concussion. “Have you got someone who can keep an eye on you for the next 48 hours?”

“I… Yeah, I do.” Steve leans his head on Robin’s shoulder, needing the support as he’s hit with a sudden dizzy spell. He really doesn’t want to hurl again.

“Steve,” Robin whispers, “There’s no way my mom is letting me stay at your house for two days. Or letting you stay at mine. She would freak if I had an omega in my room.”

“I know,” Steve mumbles back. “‘Preciate the offer, Robbie, but I’ve got someone.”

“Steve. You can’t just shrug this off!”

“I’m not! I do have someone.” He pouts, breathes deep, her scent sour still from the truth serum leaving her system. His face is hidden in her short hair as he mumbles, “I’ll stay with Eddie.” Steve’s so tired.

He just wants to rest his eyes a minute, but Robin shakes his shoulder.

“Eddie? Steve what are you talking about?”

“I’ll stay at Eddie’s. He’ll take care of me.”

Robin is struggling to focus, her brain not as scrambled as Steve’s, but after a day and a half without enough to eat or drink coupled with everything else, she’s just as tired and confused. “Eddie who?”

Tires screech to a stop at the edge of the Starcourt parking lot, the closest cars can come now with the barriers up. Steve whips his head around to look towards the noise and his head spins. But then he sees a familiar, shitty van, the driver’s door opening and closing loud enough for Steve to hear the slam over the surrounding hubbub.

Pushing himself to his feet, Steve starts walking towards the streak of denim and dark curls racing towards him. He’s grinning like an idiot as Eddie stops just short of barreling into him, the rangy alpha delicately cupping his face. “Steve, baby, what the hell happened?” His fingers brush gently along Steve’s brow, over the cut on his lower lip. “I saw on the news—about the fire—called your place a dozen times and no one picked up. Been half-crazy worrin’ over you, and it looks like I was right to.”

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s touch.

“No, baby, not your fault. I’m just glad it isn’t worse.” He pulls Steve close, guides his face to the scent gland at his neck, and kisses his hair. “I’ve got you.”

Steve begins to purr, feeling safe for the first time in two days. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait! I gotta tell Robin!”

“What? Is Buckley here, too?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just pulls out of Eddie’s grip and stumbles back to the ambulance where Robin is still waiting, wrapped in an emergency blanket, her blue eyes glued to him as he approaches. “You’re dating Eddie Munson?” The, ‘and you didn’t say anything about that when we were spilling our guts literally and metaphorically on the bathroom floor’ is implied.

“Yeah. Eddie’s the best. He’s really sweet and he’s got a big—”

“Please don’t make me barf on you by finishing that sentence. I do not need to know what you and your alpha get up to behind closed doors.” Robin reaches for his hand. “Just… Call me in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve squeezes her fingers before loping back to Eddie and snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.

Eddie rubs at Steve’s back. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.”

“Want me to make you a grilled cheese when we get back to my place?”

“Uh-huh.” Steve nods enthusiastically, only to bring on a wave of nausea, forcing him to shut his eyes and put all his weight on Eddie.

“Maybe I should just get you into bed.”

Steve moans wordlessly, lets himself be manhandled into the van, barely noticing anything beyond the bumps in the road that make his head ache more.

Once they reach Forest Hills, Eddie plops Steve on the couch, brings him water and a bag of frozen peas for his eye, and turns his attention to frying two sandwiches.

After Steve is fed, Eddie helps him into the shower, washing his hair in the tiny bathroom, and getting rid of the dried blood and days’ worth of sweat.

They dry off together, and Eddie bundles Steve into his bed, their naked bodies pressed close beneath the covers. “I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie whispers, dropping a kiss to Steve’s unbruised temple. “You rest. And if you need anything, let me know, I’ll get it for you.”

“I know,” Steve hums, snuggling impossibly closer. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Now sleep.”

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #stranger things fic

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piratefishmama · 8 months

Text

Fake it Till you Make It | Part 13

“Buckley residence”

“Melissa, my second favourite Buckley! Hi, it’s Steve, is Robin there?”

“Oh Steve! Yes, yes one moment, I’ll just—weren’t you on holiday with your parents aaaand—?” he’d been calling Eddie his ‘partner’ for the week leading up to the big holiday. Never dropping any names, but given he’d found a sort of second home at the Buckleys… they were relentless in finding out who he was dating.

Since it’d never be Robin.

He wasn’t falling for it, no matter how deep they’d been into flower power back in the day. If he came out, Robin would end up coming out in solidarity and he knew she wasn’t ready yet so—“Yep, calling from Chicago airport, bit of a time sensitive call” he wasn’t giving it up.

“Oop, I’ll grab her—” there was a scuffle on the line then a quick “ROBIN, STEVE’S ON THE PHONE” another quick scuffle later and suddenly

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now, Dingus?”

“I’m in Chicago! Just checkin in on my baaaaaby, how’s my little bun today? Any morning sickness yet?”

“Robin!!”

“Mom get off the phone!!”

“Hahaha I’m kidding Melissa! Can I talk to Robbie alone though?”

“Unbelievable, you kids are turning me grey.”

“You’re as beautiful as ever though!” The other line clicked off, and Robin’s snickering laughter was all that remained. “One day she’s gonna stay on just to call my bluff.”

“But that is not today, again, aren’t you supposed to be on a plane? What’s up?”

“…Okay so, hypothetically, if you were fake dating someone you… I dunno… maybe, sorta… click really well with, can laugh with, and maybe sorta like a little, would you—”

“Steven Leopold Harrington do you have a crush on your boyfriend?”

“Fake, fake boyfriend, Robbie, fake. And that isn’t my middle name.”

“You’re not DENYING it! It's not even been a DAY yet, Steve!”

“No, I’m not—well… I’d call it more an interest than a crush, but that’s why I’m calling you, what would you do?”

“Pine uselessly for years, you know this.”

“Got it, pine uselessly” He could do that. He was doing that already, sort of. He’d watched in squinty eyed rage while a newsstand cashier with a nose ring flirted with his fake boyfriend while he grabbed a drink to down during the wait between flights. It didn’t go anywhere, Eddie barely even noticed, but Steve noticed. Steve noticed everything. “You really should ask Vi—”

“NO. Listen Steve, as the kids would say, you have found an ‘ultimate cheat code’ to asking your crush out, listen closely now, don’t want you to miss it… you’re already dating him!”

“It’s fake though!” Luckily his parents were off showing Eddie a cool mural they found last time they flew through. No chance of them hearing him.

“So?! Just act like it’s real! It’s like a test, you have a week to see if you’re actually growing ooey gooeys for this guy, and at the end of it, you’ll know if you wanna keep him.” Brilliant in theory but one small hiccup

“What if he doesn’t want me at the end of the week?” The fact that he hadn’t had a solid date in forever before the scheme looming over his head and heart like a dark cloud of suffering.

“I will eat my own shoe. Trust me dingus, trust me. He’ll want you, just work that mysterious Harrington Charm I’ve heard so much about. You’re already half-way there, you get to kiss him already.”

“…Okay, it’s gotta be the real stinker shoe though, you know the one.”

“The skunk one?!”

“Yep. The skunk one.”

“But we were gonna use that on—” Kevin, they were gonna hide it in Kevin’s office after he refused every holiday request Robin put in for a month after she, very politely, shot him and his advances down, why they still had it was… a mystery. They kept forgetting to get rid of it. “Fine, the skunk one. I will eat the skunk shoe, that is how confident I am that Eddie will want you, now please go and spend time with your way cooler than you boyfriend before your parents turn him into a normie.”

“Miss you already.”

“Miss you more”

“Miss you most.”

“Hang up.”

“No you han—” she hung up, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh about it knowing that undoubtedly. She’d be laughing on her end too.

The second flight was much easier to get Eddie onto. In fact, after they spent the hour between flights milling around the terminal, Eddie led him down the gangway, hand in hand, demanding he hurry up or “they’ll leave without us, my precious little harlot!!” there was no rush, they were actually first in line at the gate in front of his own parents, whom Eddie beat to the front of the queue, dragging Steve with him, still ribbing him for the mile high club thing.

He was not going to live that down any time soon.

The flight, in theory would give him a lot of time to think though. Nine hours. In seats that were too far apart. His parents in the middle of the cabin in a semi-enclosed pod-like structure comprised of two seats and a desk between them which they both shared to work on some paperwork, and he and Eddie on opposite sides of the plane.

Which sucked. Because he couldn’t hold Eddie’s hand.

He couldn’t make sure Eddie was okay, and that alone really dug into his time to think about things, because his brain was quite stuck on the fact that Eddie was alone on the other side of the cabin likely going through it as the second flight excitement could only last so long, and that just wasn’t okay.

Eddie couldn’t even do anything to pass the time, he’d packed all but one of his notebooks in his checked luggage, Steve was pretty damn sure he'd go insane if he had to just sit there with nothing to do for a whole nine hours.

So, they teamed up. From opposite sides of the cabin, because somehow Eddie just understood what Steve wanted him to do without having to be told.

It took them a joint effort all of one hour into the flight to puppy-dog eye his parents into switching seats with them.

This allowed them to pick at each other’s ‘gourmet’ meals, Eddie stealing several of his steak fries, and Steve stealing both the last bite of his steak, and two of his orange slices, it allowed Eddie to ramble on about the D&D campaign he was plotting to send the kids through when they got back, allowed Steve to subtly plant the idea into Eddie's mind that maybe... maybe he might be interested in seeing what that looked like.

Maybe they could hold the first session at his place when his parents went away again. Plenty of room! He could watch for once, instead of ribbing Dustin for it and purposefully never getting the name of the game right.

All leading to them both settling in their reclining seats, wrapped up in blankets, facing each other's smiling faces, and falling into an incredibly easy food-coma slumber for the remainder of their flight.

Both wishing the seats were just... a little closer.

Part 15

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #do not question my airline knowledge #i have none #i'm winging it #lmao winging it... cause planes? anyway #and i dont wanna know if i'm wrong #so shhhhhhhhhhh i'm right because i say i am

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 6 months

Text

Leap of Faith

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You use Halloween as an excuse to tell Spencer how you feel.

Square Filled: costume party (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You tighten your pigtails so that they sit high on your head. You turn to look at how good your ass looks in the short shorts you bought on Amazon. The fishnet stockings are itchy on your skin but you’re going to be too drunk to care in about an hour. Usually, you make sure your makeup is perfect before leaving the house but this time, you make sure it’s messy and smudges at the corners of your lips.

You’ve been invited to a Halloween party at Rossi’s place where everyone else is going to be. Your costume is a sexy Harley Quinn. She is one of your favorite superheroes and Margot Robbie does an amazing job at playing her. It’s cliche and cheesy to add “sexy” in front of a costume but this time, you wanted it to be like that. You have someone to impress and it’s not gonna happen if your costume isn’t sexy.

You even dyed your hair blonde so you can dye the ends pink and blue. It’s a decision you made knowing you were gonna love it even after Halloween was over. Your shirt says “Daddy’s Lil Monster” which ends right below your breasts. If you raise your arms, you’ll definitely show some underboob. Your entire midsection is showing since your shorts hang low on your hips. You don’t care who sees you like this since you’re pretty confident in your own skin whether you’re one hundred pounds or three hundred.

You blow yourself a kiss and leave the bedroom, making sure to grab your metal bat on the way to the living room where your best friend is. JJ and Will decided to dress up as Barbie and Ken from the new Barbie movie. You haven’t seen it yet but you know the scene where Barbie and Ken are rollerblading through the town in bright neon outfits.

“Ready?”

Will and JJ turn you when they hear you come in. Will immediately looks away from you while JJ whistles.

“Spencer is going to go feral when he sees you.”

“You think?” you grin.

“For sure.”

“I call shotgun!” you shout as you run toward the car.

“No, you had it last time!” Will runs after you.

JJ smiles at the dynamic between you and her husband. You two became fast friends which makes her happy. You’re her best friend and he’s her husband. It all works out in the end. She walks to the car to see you in the front seat with a smug smile while Will is pouting playfully in the back. The drive to Rossi’s house isn’t long since she lives close to him, and when you get there, you see Derek’s car. If he’s here, that means Spencer is. They do everything together. The only car you don’t see here is Hotch’s. It’s normal for him to be fashionably late for these kinds of events.

Penelope and Spencer must have volunteered to decorate Rossi’s place because this looks amazing. Rossi is not the one to go out and decorate to this degree. You three walk up to the door and knock, and Rossi opens it slowly. He’s a modern Dracula without the fangs. He hates the feeling of things on his teeth. The years he wore braces were the worst.

“Welcome. Nice costumes.”

You step inside and see Derek texting someone by the front door. He’s dressed as a cop because he waited until the last minute to put something together. He still had his old uniform from when he was a beat cop and decided to use that. When he hears people enter, he puts the phone away to mingle. He whistles when he sees you, and he brings you in for a friendly hug.

“Damn, Y/N. Who are you trying to impress?”

“You know who. Where is he?”

“In the kitchen. He booked it in there as soon as he heard there were cupcakes.”

You pat his shoulder as you walk away from them, dragging your bat behind you. Spencer is by the kitchen island eating a cupcake when you enter. Halloween is his favorite holiday because he loves decorating and dressing up. He’s dressed in a puffy white clown costume. His face is painted ghostly white to match the color of the costume with dramatic eyebrows drawn on and a painted red smile. Even he can make something so creepy look cute.

“You gonna save some for the rest of us?” you ask. Spencer looks up and starts choking as soon as he sees you in your costume. He grabs a water bottle and chugs half of it to get the food out of his throat. Once he’s calmed down, he rakes his eyes down your entire costume. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

“Wow, you look great,” he stutters.

“Thank you. I love your costume.”

“I made this,” he smiles proudly.

“I know. This is all you’ve been talking about for the past couple of weeks.” Spencer grabs another cupcake and tears off the paper before taking a bite. Some of the frosting gets on his upper lip which he licks away, but there is still some left behind. This is it. This is your chance. You walk up to him and reach up to his face. “You got a little something.” You wipe his top lip with your thumb and place the pad of your thumb in your mouth. “Delicious.”

Spencer is staring at your mouth and thinking he’d love it if your lips were on his instead. You can see the lust in his eyes so you take the leap of faith.

“You got some more. Come here.”

You pull Spencer close and kiss him to take the frosting off that isn’t there. Spencer grips your hips and pulls you closer as he kisses you back.

“Wait,” you pull away from him, “is this okay?”

“More than.”

You two meet halfway and kiss some more, not caring if you have an audience by the entrance into the kitchen.

“She made the first move. All of you owe me ten bucks,” JJ grins.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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gemini-sensei · 2 months

Text

@sensei-venus, your camboy!Robby post made me think of if shy!Eli and meangirl!Reader had an onlyfans

Themes like "nerd fucks cheerleader" videos where she wears her old cheer uniform thay doesn't quite fit anymore. As soon as she walks out in it, he pops a boner.

And his whining and moaning when she makes him top. How she'll degrade him and praise him in the same breath and he eats it up. How he fucks her like a wild animal because he's so inexperienced and needy and touch starved.

Audios of nothing but his whimpering and begging as she teases him.

He's faceless because he's too shy and worried about his scar. That's okay, Reader loves the spotlight and showing off her pretty, chubby body. Including lap dances she gives Eli where he hides his face in her far tits.

Videos of her riding him until he's crying and telling her he's so overstimulated. And her pussy is so full of cum that is leaking out and making a big messy under her.

Ugh 😩 he's so submissive to her and she loves showing him off as her cute boyfriend that does everything he's told. Including recording aduios of him eating her out and slurping up her hot juices and moaning about how she tastes so good.

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judasofsuburbia · 1 year

Text

nancy wheeler's no homewrecker but hearing robin ramble about what to do for her next date with vickie made her really want to be one. not that robin and vickie were even official-- not really--but it seems like nancy has become the confider of all of robin's romantic panic and it was beginning to tear her up inside.

she wanted to be the one that shared a milkshake with robin or slap her money down first for the movie tickets. she wondered why steve couldn't be this all-knowing date decipher for the girl but she wasn't about to shove robin away either.

"so tomorrow's date three," nancy says with a teasing inflection.

robin's picking at the holes in her jeans with trembling fingers. "y-yep, date three. big deal."

"i think so," nancy says, going for encouraging but probably sounding patronizing by the way robin's eyes flash up to her.

"what would you expect from a third date?" robin asks.

nancy adjusts herself on the couch while she thinks. "well...it depends. if they've already kissed me before, probably some making out in their car. heavy petting if things are going well. i'd expect a longer date too."

robin's eyes are as wide as saucers. "b-but i haven't kissed her yet."

nancy blinks in surprise. she's not sure why she's surprised, figuring robin would have probably told her already all the intricate details of the way vickie kisses.

"no?" nancy asks.

robin shakes her head rapidly, gnawing on her bottom lip.

"that's okay," nancy says slowly. "this would probably be the date to kiss her, though."

"fuck," robin mumbles. "you're right."

her tone hits nancy like a freight train. "you haven't kissed anyone before, have you?"

robin rolls her lips into her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut. her nails are digging into those holey jeans, ripping the threads one by one. pop. pop. pop.

nancy instinctively grabs robin's hands to keep her from digging into skin. robin's eyes open and they're scared shitless. nancy squeezes robin's hands and smiles tenderly.

"it's gonna be okay," nancy assures. "a quick goodnight peck is easy."

robin groans. "i'm fucking nineteen years old. if i kiss her all clumsy, she's gonna know and everything will be ruined and i'll never find love and die an old spinster with a hoard of cats that'll eat my dead body for sustenance."

nancy's nose wrinkles at the visual but she laughs gently. "stop it. kissing is simple if you pay attention. vickie's kissed someone before so you just kind of follow her lead."

"follow her lead?" robin asks.

is nancy going to do this? is she really going to do this?

"do you want me to show you?" nancy blurts.

robin's eyes grow even wider and her fidgety body goes completely still. "w-what?"

nancy's really gonna do this, huh?

"doesn't have to mean anything," nancy says quickly. "just...practice."

"practice," robin repeats lamely.

oh lord, she's really gonna do this.

"would it settle your nerves?" nancy asks.

robin thinks for a moment but inevitably nods her head.

"then i can teach you," nancy says with as much confidence as she can muster.

"o-okay," robin stutters. "can i get some chapstick first?"

nancy lets go of her hands and nods. nancy goes to dig in her purse too. they settle back down on the couch and slowly apply some chapstick to their lips. when they make eye contact, the two girls burst into small giggles and nudge each other with their elbows. nancy gets on her knees on the couch and robin moves to mimic her stance. robin's breathing heavily and her eyes are darting all over the place.

nancy taps her knee and says, "robbie, we don't have to--"

"what's step one?" robin interrupts with a shy smile.

nancy exhales shallowly and scoots closer. she holds up a tentative hand to robin's cheek and tucks her hair behind her ear. "okay, so, there's a build-up. the moments before the kiss. you could be anywhere when this happens, really, but it's important to read people's expressions."

"i'm terrible at that," robin whines.

"check for simple things, then," nancy says calmly. "like if her eyes dart down to your lips." nancy demonstrates a few times and watches robin's eyes follow her movement. "or if she moves closer to talk to you." nancy leans her face in and sees how robin's face gets a little flushed. "she might even ask you if it's okay to kiss you."

"s-she would?" robin whispers.

"maybe," nancy whispers. "can i kiss you, robbie?"

robin nods again.

"so she'll lean in," nancy whispers, her lips now a breath away from robin's. nancy tries to stay in the zone but she's drifting slowly. wrapped up in robin's orbit. "and gently...kiss you."

nancy presses her lips delicately to robin's. a small peck before leaning back. "see? simple," nancy whispers breathlessly as her heart pounds against her ribs.

"do i...press back?" robin whispers.

"mhm," nancy hums. "i'll kiss you again and you press back, okay?"

nancy kisses her again and robin hesitantly moves her lips against hers. it's not as uncoordinated as nancy was anticipating, but it lasts a little long. nancy moves her lips again, pressing repeatedly to keep things moving. all gentle pecks. robin gets the gist after the first few and follows her lead, just as she instructed earlier. nancy knows they're getting carried away here but she can't will herself to pull away. not yet.

robin's confidence ramps up and she holds nancy's cheek. nancy hums contently and kisses her deeper. lips slotting on top of each other softly and languidly. robin is the first to pull away, taking in large breaths and nancy's about to speak but robin just pulls her back in.

"don't," nancy pants against robin's lips. "forget to breathe."

"yeah," robin murmurs, dazed.

nancy wonders if she should say more but instead, she follows her impulse to suck gently on robin's bottom lip. robin gasps and holds nancy's face closer, tilting her head to sink further into nancy's mouth. nancy tastes her chapstick, root beer flavored, which is so fun and so sweet and so robin it makes her brain spark.

her tongue pokes out and robin drops her jaw enough but nancy hesitates.

"um," nancy whispers. "is this okay? can i--"

"please," robin begs quietly and then clears her throat. "i mean, show me, um, if you want to."

nancy grins, she can't help it. she uses her grip on robin's face to coax her mouth open again and she traces her bottom lip delicately before dipping behind robin's teeth. robin moans and presses her tongue up against nancy's. it's all so slow and intentional that it heats up their bodies, quickens their heartbeat, and heightens everything.

eventually, they're laying down on nancy's couch, sinking into each other, kissing kissing kissing until their lips are puffy and numb. the friendliness of this exchange, if there ever was any, has completely vanished.

as nancy continues their "practice" down robin's neck, robin knows she’s gotta cancel on vickie. because there’s no way robin wants to kiss anybody else after this.

#emily writes #thinking about women kissing on this fine evening!!!!!!!#ronance #ronance ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fics #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

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intricatechaosofyou · 5 months

Note

I have a request for you

TW: mentions of being sick (like a cold)

Hey I'm feeling a bit sick so I was wondering if you could write how Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia,Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Robert "Bob" Floyd and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw would do that or something?

You don't have to I was just wondering

Sick Days

Pairing: x gn!reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Summary: You’re not feeling well. Luckily the Navy’s best is a pretty good nurse. Just some headcanons about how our favorite flyboys react to you being sick :)

Request: yes

Warnings: being sick (symptoms similar to a head cold), medicine

Author’s note: this is my first request???? Wtf?? And I hope you feel better hun!! <3 this is actually a little late cause I got sick too so perfect timing haha. Also first time writing for most of these characters! I hope you enjoy!!

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Robert “Bob” Floyd:

My guy gets so worried

Does a quick little Google search to make sure he’s giving you the best medicine for your symptoms

He will make sure you’re so comfy in bed

You’re surrounded on all side by pillows and blankets and tissues

It’s a glorious nest

He’ll make you tea with honey to soothe your throat and help you drink it

Constantly checks in on you to make sure you’re still doing okay

Barely leaves your side

When he does, he’s texting you constantly

Like seriously, he’ll be in the kitchen and text you

[are you feeling alright?]

[Robby, you saw me thirty second ago]

[just checking]

Not to mention he cannot say no to you while you’re sick

You wanna watch that horror movie he despises? Anything for you

You wanted to know if he’d make his mama’s famous biscuits? Say no more

Literally pampers you

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw:

Mama Carol taught this boy the ✨best✨ soup recipe

Like it cures all

The second you sniffle or cough, he’s racing to the store to get the ingredients

Rooster is such an acts of service person, so he’d totally make this soup to show his love

He’ll do everything within his power to make you better: soup, make sure you get plenty of sleep, get your medicine, and if you claim a kiss will make you better? How can he resist

Definitely goes a little bit overboard in his caring

The softest, sweetest voice while he’s talking to you

“Hey, chicken. You gotta eat. I made my mom’s famous soup”

Will rub your back as he sings you to sleep

While you sleep, he gets the soup put away and makes dinner

Except to pampered, you will not be lifting a finger

No cooking, no cleaning for like a month after you get sick

Rooster’s taking care of it all (and if he misses his training, he’ll get Mav to understand)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin:

He’s a complicated man

You mention you’re sick and his immediate response is “don’t get me sick”

You cough or sneeze and he’s out of bed in an instant

And it’s hurts, like does he really prioritize not getting over your well being

You wallow in self pity for ten minutes until he comes back in with a box of tissues, cough medicine, some water, and a large glass of orange juice

“You were out of orange juice so I went to get some, babe”

He left to get you some “sick supplies” to get you better faster

Cause he’s a sweetheart when he wants to be, and he’s gotta make sure his sweetheart is good to go

He makes you stick to Navy routine:

Medicine every few hours, drinking a glass of water every hour, taking your temperature intermittently

It’s funny honestly, cause he’s never cared for the rules but the second you’re sick he’s the biggest stickler for the rules ever

“No, baby, you gotta take the medicine. It’ll help you feel better”

“Jakey, I don’t want to”

“C’mon, sooner you’re better, sooner I can kiss you”

You think over his words for a second before holding out your hand and letting him hand you the pills

He’s gonna get you better as soon as possible (he really misses your kisses)

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia:

He’s the type to try to distract you

You aren’t feeling well? Time to break out the jokes

Dances like an idiot when he delivers you soup or juice or anything like that

And don’t get me started on how intuitive he is (that’s what he gets from being a backseater)

You want soup? Stove’s already on

Need some water? Full glass is already ok the nightstand

Out of tissues? Where’d that new box come from?

Literally anticipates your every need

And if you just want cuddles? This is your man

He will cuddle your sickness away

“Babe, I don’t think that’s how it works” “shhhhhh”

He will let you lay your head on his chest as your watch dorky shows and he really earns his call sign as “Fanboy”

Definitely the one to subtly try and slip you medicine so you don’t notice and won’t taste it

One of the bestest boys to have with you while you’re sick 10/10

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sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

The Apple of My Eye

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend can't believe you've never gone apple picking...

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Excited Bob, Flirty Bob, Bob.

Word Count: 1,136

A/N: I know this one is a little on the shorter side too, but why force more when it's already so cheesy? Anyway, this is part of my Halloween/Fall one-shot collection! My inbox and requests are always open, so feel free to shoot me a message! As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated! If you like my writing, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Masterlist || Bob One-Shot Masterlist || Robert "Bob" Floyd Tag List

“Are you ready?” Bob asked excitedly from the driver seat. You looked over at him with a small smile, heart warming at the sight of your overly enthusiastic boyfriend. Bob didn’t often show his excitement like this, and you were one of the few people who ever got to see him in this state.

No, you’re boyfriend was a weird mix of shy and confidant, something that worked surprisingly well for him. He was confidant in his abilities, but horribly shy when it came to romance. You had been shocked when the young pilot had approached you one day during a summer day off with your mutual friends. You had always found him attractive, and everyone knew this fact, especially your long-time best friend Natasha. She had been the reason you had been enveloped into the dagger squad to begin with. You weren’t a pilot, but that didn’t seem to matter the more you spent time with the rowdy crew.

Bob had caught your eye almost immediately with the way he would duck his head and blush everytime you so much as looked his way. It was endearing, really. But what really had you falling head over heels for the man was the surprising amount of self-assuredness he had when doing things. Confidence was sexy, after all. And after months of tip-toeing around each other, the squad had worked together to come up with the perfect plan at getting Bob to ask you out. That summer day was one of the best of your entire life.

Now, you smiled softly at your boyfriend of over a year as he buzzed with excitment at the idea of your current date. He had stared at you in disbelief when you told him that you had never been apple picking, and he had decided that that was a misfortune that had to be corrected right away.

“I’m ready, Robby,” you hummed, gathering the basket at your feet. Bob got out of the car and rounded to your side, opening the door so you could get out. He was nothing, if not a gentleman. He offered you his hand, and you took it gratefully, linking your arm with his as he pushed the door closed behind you.

“You’re gonna have so much fun, Bug. I can’t believe you’ve never gone apple picking before!” He grinned. You giggled at how excited he was, moving your hand down to intertwine your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand lightly, giving you a shy smile. You hoped a day never came where that smile didn’t send a flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Minutes later, the two of you were walking through rows of trees, families, friend, and couples milling about around you.

“So,” you drawled, glancing up at him. “How does this work?”

Bob’s eyes lit up, excitedly telling you about everything there was to know, and you watched him with a dreamy expression.

“So, you don’t wanna pick the apples that are already on the ground because those are for the deer and bugs,” he explained, gesturing to the many apples that littered the ground. “And then you wanna pick the apples from the outer branches because they ripen first. Oh! And don’t eat straight from the tree.”

“Why not?” You asked him.

“Because you always wanna wash your fruit first, baby. Who knows what kind of pesticides they use around here,” he replied, wrinkling his nose.

“Makes sense,” you nodded, walking up to one of the trees. “What about these?”

Bob stepped up beside you, inspecting the yellow and red apples. “You planning on doing much baking?”

“Isn’t that why we’re here picking them?” You giggled, earning a soft smile back. “Thought you would want some apple pie.”

“You gonna bake for me, sugar?” He smirked, leaning in. You hummed, brushing your nose against his.

“Would do anything for you, Robby,” you grinned, biting at your bottom lip. Bob blushed, ducking his head down in embarrassment. You let out another giggle, reaching up to pick one of the low hanging apples. Bob glanced up, reaching his hand out to stop you.

“Hold on, now,” he smiled. “There’s a trick to it. You don’t want to pull on the apple, that means it isn’t ready. You wanna find one that you can just twist-”

He gently twisted his hand around the apple, and you heard a quiet snap as the fruit broke free from the branch, his smile just as wide as yours as you looked at one another.

“And pull,” he finished, pulling the apple free and placing it gently into the basket. “You don’t wanna just toss them in either. That can bruise’em and then they’ll all go bad.”

“Look at you, Mr. Smarty-pants!” You teased, causing another blush to crawl up his cheeks. You placed a kiss to his cheek before stepping back to assess the tree in front of you. “Now, let’s get to work! There are apples to be picked and pies with your name on them waiting to be baked!”

The two of you began working your way around the lower branches, plucking and comparing apples as you quickly filled your basket. Bob took one look at you holding the heavy object, and shook his head with a frown. Worldlessly, he took the basket from your hands, replacing it with his other hand. You leaned into him with a smile, gazing up at him adoringly.

“Always the gentleman,” you gushed, and Bob looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow, eyes containing a hint of mischief.

“Always?” He hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear with a smirk. “What about when I do that one thing in the bedroom-”

“Robert Floyd!” You shrieked past a giggle, swatting his shoulder as he chuckled. “You can’t just go around saying things like that! There are children present!”

“You’ve never complained about the things I’ve said before,” he smirked, and now it was your turn to duck your head out of shyness. Bob chuckled, squeezing your hand gently as he pulled you towards the barn where the rest of the crowd was weaving in and out.

“C’mon, sugar,” he laughed. “Let’s go get some cider, yeah?”

You allowed yourself to be led to the barn, smile ever-present on your face as it usually was in the presence of the man next to you.

Yes, Bob could be shy at times, but he was a man who knew what he wanted. And what you didn’t know was that he was confidant in the fact that you were it for him, but he would wait. His mama always told him that patience was a virtue and that good things come to those who wait. He would wait forever if it meant he could keep you by his side.

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floralcyanide · 7 months

Text

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day three ⛧ blood play

Ghostface!Charlie Walker x Ghostface!Reader

You and Charlie celebrate a successful night with the traces of your crime. (Charlie and reader are 18+)

warnings: smut, blood kink, mentions and descriptions of blood, spit kink, mentions of murder, mentions of serial murder, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), blood play, Charlie and reader are 18+

word count: 1096

author's note: everyone give it up for day 3!! I loved writing this one ugh there's something that makes me feral about Charlie. I hope everyone is having a great October so far and please enjoy this fic! feedback is much appreciated <3

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

It was a thrilling kill, to say the least. Finally, Robbie has shut the hell up forever, and it was all by you and Charlie’s hands. You take pride in it- being covered in Robbie’s blood. Everyone in the house is dead, and everything has gone according to plan. Now, all that needs to be done is celebrate. You and Charlie drive as fast as possible to your house, sneaking back up the tree by your bedroom window and climbing through it. Once both of you silently land on the floor, Charlie grabs your face and kisses you passionately.

“We did it,” he whispers, a prideful gleam in his eye.

His face is covered in the light of the bedside lamp on the table, making him look softer than usual. But his eyes tell another story. They’re growing darker as they stare into yours. You can feel Robbie’s blood turning cold against your skin, where it soaked through the Ghostface cloak. You waste no time peeling off the costume, tossing it to the floor. You maintain eye contact with Charlie as he does the same. He reaches for your blood-soaked t-shirt, pulling it over your head as he reconnects his lips with yours. Even your bra is ruined with poor Robbie’s blood, but you don’t care. You don’t hesitate to remove it while Charlie attacks your mouth with his tongue. His hands move everywhere on your exposed body, rubbing the blood across your skin. There’s a splatter of it on Charlie’s cheek, and you pull away from his kiss before moving your face to the side to lick it off.

“Fuck,” Charlie mutters under his breath, grabbing you by the hips, “I so want you right now.”

“Then have me,” you grin, tugging at his shirt that was almost sopped with blood.

The red substance is smeared on Charlie’s chest after he removes the shirt, and you playfully draw a heart in it. Charlie shoves you onto your bed, climbing on top of you before roughly kissing along your throat. You press your chest against Charlie’s, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. The kiss becomes more heated when Charlie pushes his knee against your clothed core, adding much-needed friction. You start grinding against his knee softly, moaning into the kiss. Charlie pulls away momentarily to yank your slightly bloody jeans off your legs, letting them fall to the floor. He scrambles to remove his own pants and kicks them off his ankles. Charlie wastes no time teasing you through your underwear, letting a wet spot gather at your covered entrance before pulling off the garments. He buries his face into you immediately, licking a fat stripe up your slit and relishing in your taste. Charlie moans, shutting his eyes as he starts lapping at you. You grab his hair, pushing it away from his face so he can focus on eating you out. Charlie slips a finger inside you, focusing his tongue on your clit as his eyes meet yours. You’re trying your best to keep quiet as your family is asleep.

Adding a second finger, Charlie moves to lick at your stomach and breasts, spreading blood around your torso as he does so. He takes the blood and lets it mix with his spit before he spats on your pussy, removing his fingers to replace them with his length. Charlie spreads his saliva around with the tip of his cock before pushing into you slowly. You cover your mouth with your arm so you don’t accidentally cry out too loudly. Charlie guides himself into you until he reaches the hilt, sighing at the feeling of you clenching around him. He spreads the remainder of the blood along your tits with his hands covered in drying blood. Despite the gloves he wore, blood still soaked through the cloak sleeves and ran down Charlie’s arms and past his wrists. Usually, the idea of blood made you feel queasy, but after tonight, you’ve seen enough of it to be desensitized to the nausea. It even turns you on now.

“Taking my cock so well, baby,” Charlie coos, slapping your left breast, watching in delight as it bounces and makes your nipple more erect.

You moan when Charlie hits that sweet spot inside you. Charlie lifts your legs to place them on his shoulders to fuck you deeper than before. The sound of muffled moans and your bed slightly squeaking almost drowns out the high-pitched sirens going down the street.

“Wonder where they’re headed to?” you joke, a sick grin on your face.

“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” Charlie smiles at you, squeezing your bloody tits.

You’re gripping his taut arm muscles as he holds your hip with one hand and the sheets with the other. Charlie picks up the speed of his thrusts, and you swivel your hips in time with his. You feel the familiar warmth spreading through your body as your orgasm approaches. Charlie reaches down between the two of you and starts to rub your clit with the mixture of the blood, spit, and arousal that still seeped out of you from moments before. The slipperiness allows more effortless movement of the bundle of nerves, sending your body into overdrive. Your legs tremble on Charlie’s shoulders as your knees clamp around his head.

“That’s it, cum for me,” Charlie coaxes, “So beautiful.”

Charlie hurriedly pulls out before he finishes, his hot cum spurting onto your chest. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as your highs come down. You were covered in sweat, blood, spit, and cum and desperately needed a shower. Especially since you had class in the morning.

“Wanna shower? Then you have to go,” you ask before giving Charlie a playful pout.

“Absolutely,” Charlie sighs, climbing off your bed and holding a hand out for you to grab. After showering and watching Charlie climb out of your window and down the tree, you think about tomorrow and what it will bring. Hopefully, you and Charlie were careful enough. You look over at your bloody clothes and cloak, deciding that you should probably go into the backyard and burn them before morning. So you spend the next hour dousing the clothing in lighter fluid and dropping a match into the metal trash canister where you tossed them. You watch as the flames lick away the fabric, blackness taking over your old and no longer white shirt that was soaked with Robbie’s blood. Poor Robbie, you think, he would’ve had a blast filming people at school tomorrow. Oh well.

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