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#tgm bob floyd
wild-lavender-rose · 2 years
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Robert “Bob” Floyd drabble #2
Prompt- “I can’t believe you kept this to yourself all this time…how did nobody notice?” 
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     Bob stared at you with his jaw dropped. “Wh…When?”
    “A couple months ago.” You looked up at him from where your spot on the bathroom floor beside the toilet where Bob had found you throwing up. “I, I didn’t want to tell you, wanted you to have your head clear when you went on assignment next week.”
    “But I…I just,” Bob lowered himself onto the floor across from you on shaking legs. “I can’t believe you kept this to yourself all this time…How did nobody notice? How did I not notice?”
    “The baby hasn’t started to show,” you ran your hand over your stomach absently. “Phoenix said that is was almost four months before she-,”
    “Phoenix knows??” Bob’s eyes grew even wider, voice squeaking. “And Hangman?”
    You shrugged helplessly. “Maybe?”
    “Oh god,” Bob pulled off his glasses and ran a hand over his face. “Last week he came up and congratulated me, I thought it was about the mission but-,” He looked at you. “My wife is pregnant??”
    “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset, I just-,”
    “No, darlin’, no,” Bob scooted over to sit next to you and wrap you up in his arms. “I, I couldn’t be happier.” His eyes grew glassy as he looked at you, trying to memorize your face even after all the time he had known you. “Are you okay? Is everything okay? Is he, is she,” he looked down at your stomach, his hand sliding over yours resting there.”
    “Yeah, Bobby, the baby is fine.” Tears filled your eyes as reality finally set in. It wasn’t a secret now. He knew, your husband knew. “I’m sorry, I should have told you,”
    “It’s okay, darlin’, come here,” Bob pulled you closer and buried his head into your shoulder. “God, now I’ve just got double the reasons to come back home.”
    “I love you, Robert.” You whispered.
    “I love you, sweetheart. Both of you.”
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withahappyrefrain · 10 months
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The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It
Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.
Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)
Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!
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"Your hands are so big."
It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.
"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."
Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.
Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?
You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.
"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.
"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.
"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.
"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.
Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-
"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"
You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."
As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"
Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"
"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.
"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.
You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.
Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.
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"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.
"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.
"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.
It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".
"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.
"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.
With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."
"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.
"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.
It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.
"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.
God damn it.
You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.
Honey: We need to go to Plan C.
Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?
Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.
Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?
Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.
Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽
Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.
Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.
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Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.
"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.
"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.
"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.
It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.
You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.
"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.
Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"
You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"
Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.
"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.
Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.
"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.
"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.
"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.
Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."
Your breath hitched, "You do?"
Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"
He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.
Time for Plan D.
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"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"
"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.
"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"
It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.
"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.
"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.
"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.
When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.
"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.
"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.
If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.
"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.
Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."
It took everything in you not to scream.
The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.
With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.
Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board
Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.
Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?
Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate
Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?
Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!
Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?
You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!
Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?
Bagman: Like 52% nude.
Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.
Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?
Bagman: No that's plan G
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"Hey Bee!"
The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.
"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."
"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."
"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."
The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."
You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.
Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.
"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.
Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"
You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.
After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.
Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.
The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.
Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."
"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.
In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.
You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.
His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.
So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-
"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."
This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.
Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.
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The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.
He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.
Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?
Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.
"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.
You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.
"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.
"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.
"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.
His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.
You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.
"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.
"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.
"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.
"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."
His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"
"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.
"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"
You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.
"The first day of training?" He repeated.
"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."
Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.
"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.
His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.
Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.
When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.
"FINALLY!"
You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.
You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.
Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.
Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.
"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?
"Let's go."
He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.
"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.
"Making up for lost time!"
Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.
The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.
Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.
You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.
Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.
"Why do you keep doing that?!"
"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."
"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."
"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.
Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.
His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.
What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?
You wanted to know everything.
But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.
Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.
"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.
Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.
"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.
"I would love that Robby."
Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"
You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."
He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"
"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.
"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"
"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.
"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"
"As most things are."
"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."
You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.
"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.
"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.
"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.
"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.
Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"
Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.
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enthyrea · 6 months
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breakfast club poster parody :)
(also it’s my birthday wahoo!! thank you all for the support this year 🤍)
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goosefilms · 2 months
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sidle up to the hard deck bar !
disrespect a lady , the navy , or put your cell phone on my bar ... you buy a round
top gun: maverick ( 2022 ) moodboard
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roosterbruiser · 4 months
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peacefxlmyko · 12 days
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I need friends like the TGM cast so badly I mean LOOK AT THEM
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months
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Hands to Yourself - Bob
Pairing: Bob / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 0.7k
This work, all my works, and my blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Pregnancy; Touchiness; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Physical Description, No Y/N
Summary: Bob can't keep his hands to himself after he finds out his wife is pregnant.
Master List
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It was impossible to tell just looking at you, but you were just around eight weeks pregnant. And the only people on the planet who knew were you, your doctor, and your husband Bob. And frankly you wanted to keep it that way for now. It just felt that much more special to hold that news.
The only problem? Your husband.
Bob wasn’t huge on PDA, but ever since you found out that you were pregnant, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You would just be standing there and he would come up and rest his hands on your belly as he asked you about your day. If he stopped just a little too harshly while driving, he dropped his hand down to your belly just in case. If you were simply chatting with friends, he would slowly wrap his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your belly.
And you didn’t mind his sudden touchiness. You loved your husband and you might have had a slight personal obsession with his hands for most of your relationship. And you were more than thrilled that he was excited to be a dad and was very much there to support you.
But you didn’t want to give the secret away. Not yet.
Standing with the Dagger Squad and their significant others, you chatted with Phoenix as Bob returned with your ginger ale. You thanked him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning back to your conversation with Phoenix. And before you could even finish your sentence, you felt Bob’s hand snaking around to rest on your belly and pull you subtly back against his chest.
“Can’t let her get too far from you,” Phoenix joked to her backseater, who shrugged in response. “Afraid she might run off?”
“Just love my wife, Phoenix. That a crime?”
“Not at all,” Phoenix drawled, glancing between the two of you suspiciously as she sipped at her beer. “Just an observation.”
Phoenix walked off, being called in to referee some stupid argument between Hangman and Rooster, leaving you and Bob alone. Threading your fingers through his own, you turned and slowly slipped his hand off of your belly.
“You’re going to give it away, Bobby,” you whined playfully, causing Bob to grin at you.
“I’m sorry, darling. It’s just instinct.”
“Just a few more weeks, okay?” you promised, resting your hand on your husband’s chest. “And then you can scream it to the world as loud as you want.”
“I plan on it,” Bob assured you, causing you to smile and press a kiss to his lips.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. And you two,” Bob replied with a wink, causing you to shake your head playfully.
“Am I going to have to listen to terrible dad jokes for the rest of my life now?”
“Small price to pay,” Bob stated, pressing a kiss to your head.
The rest of the night wound down and you and Bob eventually moved to make your exit. Walking inside to the bar, you moved to pay your tab. While you chatted with Penny, Bob came up from behind you and wrapped his hand around, resting it directly on your non-existent bump. He pressed a kiss to your head and told you he had to grab something for Fanboy before walking off.
And when you turned back to Penny, you shrunk a bit at her knowing expression.
“Please don’t tell anyone. It’s still early,” you pleaded, causing her to smile a bit wider.
“Tell anyone what?”
“Thank you,” you breathed out, waving goodbye to Penny before moving to locate your husband. The two of you walked back to the car and within seconds, Bob’s hand was planted firmly on your belly once again, causing you to nudge him in the side. “Penny knows.”
“Knows what?” Bob asked innocently, causing you to shoot him a look. Placing your hand over his own, you motioned with your head down towards your belly, causing Bob to smile a bit sheepishly. “I’m sorry, darling, I just can’t help myself.”
“I know, Bobby. It’s okay.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Bob promised, pressing a kiss to your head.
“Yeah?” you replied, grinning up at your husband. “How?”
“I think the usual options will do,” Bob returned with a wink as the two of you reached the car. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Bob reached over and grabbed the door for you. “Take your pick.”
“Oh, I will,” you mused, slipping into the car.
A.N. Why did I pick Bob for the whole hands idea? No reason. None at all.
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Okay maybe there was a reason.
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vivwritesfics · 13 days
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The Mug Situation
Bob Floyd and his wife are real fuckin cute
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It had been Bob's wife's idea to invite the Dagger Squad for dinner. She loved Natasha almost as much as she loved her husband, thought Mickey was simply the best, and couldn't get enough of the rest of the squad.
Bob had been all shy and blushy when he asked them for dinner a week ago. They'd all tried his leftovers when he brought them for lunch, so they all jumped at the chance.
The next week was spent with Bob's lovely wife stressed out of her mind. Every day when she came back from work, she was a little late. She always came home with something; drinks (alcoholic and not), and ingredients for the dinner(s) she was going to make.
On the Wednesday, she was cleaning, on her hands and knees as she, quite literally, scrubbed the house. If Bob had known that this was how she was going to act, he would have recommended the group all go to dinner.
He pulled her up from the floor and kissed her softly, his hands cradling her face. "Relax," he said as he looked down at her, his gorgeous blue eyes staring into her own. "Breathe for me, bun."
She did just that, sucked in a deep breath as Bob continued to hold her. He watched her, made sure she was breathing before he held her cheeks and tipped her up to face him. "How're you feeling?" His thumb moved over her cheeks, fingertips comforting against her skin.
"Better," she said, leaning into his touch.
Bob looked at the kitchen around him. "Bunny, the kitchen looks great!" He said, voice chipper. "Think you can come and watch a movie with me now?"
Immediately, she shook her head. "Bobby, no. I've got more cleaning too do."
But Bob just shook his head at her. "I'll help you tomorrow," he whispered. "Come and relax with me."
She couldn't say no to Bob. He helped her to put away her cleaning supplies, took her hand and led her over to the sofa. As soon as Bob sat down, he pulled her on top of him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
Bob made sure he kept his wife calm as they prepared to have the squad over. He helped her to clean, helped her to set up the kitchen table ready for their guests. The night before the squad were set to come over, Bob helped her to prepare the ingredients, ready to cook the next day.
And then the next day, seeing her in her green dress as she began cooking, Bob realised just how in love he was. There she was, preparing several different meals for his friends, catering to all different diets. He couldn't stop himself from wrapping her arms around her, pulling her back flush against his chest. He laughed when she pushed him away to continue cooking.
But then the squad arrived.
The Floyd's greeted them, welcomed them into their home. Bob took their coats while she got them something to drink (almost all of them accepting a beer from them. She took them through to the living room before disappearing into the kitchen to grab beers.
Things were easy while the squad were drinking beers. But then Reuben and Nat were asking for water. It was Bob that ran off to get the waters. He walked into his kitchen, pulled open the cupboards and searched for something to drink out of.
Oh, that was right. The Floyd's only had mugs. They didn't have drinking glasses, just a cute little collection of mugs. They'd had drinking glasses, but they'd broken them over the years, instead replacing them with whatever silly and funny mug they could find.
Bob filled two of their mugs with water and headed back to his squad. He passed Natasha the mug that said Pilot - Noun: someone who fucks about in planes for a living, and Reuben got the Man I Love Frogs mug.
"Uhm, Bobby," his wife said as she looked at the mugs he was passing to his friends.
He turned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Oh, turns out we haven't got any glasses," he said, more to her than anybody else. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.
"Shit," she muttered, suddenly embarrassed.
Bob returned to the kitchen to get everybody else some water. He gave the chicken mug (set up to look like it would have chickens and their breed names printed on the ceramic, but, really, it was random names like Larry and Steve beneath each chicken) to Bradley, Javy got the 'You're my Lobster' mug, Mickey got the Tea-Rex mug, and Jake got the 'I Don't Like Sand' mug.
Bob sat on the armchair with his wife. He sat on the arm of the chair and put their mugs in front of them. His was the 'Star Paws' mug, with his favourite characters as cats.
And, for his wife, his Bunny, was the mug he wouldn't give to anybody else. It was a 3D bunny, with one ear flopping over to form the ear. He kissed his head and listened to Jake's story.
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callsign-joyride · 2 months
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Slice of Your Pie - Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: Bob moves into your neighborhood and you bake him a pie as a welcome gift. He comes over to thank you for it, and doesn't end up leaving your house until morning.
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader
Content warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fingering, grinding, unprotected p in v (reader is on birth control), fluff
The nieghborhood that you lived in was small enough that you always knew when someone was moving in. You were enjoying your coffee on your porch when you saw a few trucks pull into the recently sold house right nextdoor. A few people stepped out of the first car, and some good looking guys got out of the moving trucks. You tried to subtly watch as they unloaded things into the house before walking down your driveway to get the mail. As you were checking the stack for anything that might’ve been junk mail, someone tapped you on the shoulder.
“Hey, I’m Bob. My friends are helping me move in, but I wanted to introduce myself before you went back inside,” he said. You smiled and introduced yourself, tucking the mail under one of your arms to shake his hand. You learned that he was in the Navy, and that he loved Star Wars. That fact made you smile, since your pajamas were currently a Princess Leia shirt and athletic shorts. 
“Hurry up, Bob! This couch isn’t gonna unload itself!” Someone yelled.
“That’s Coyote. I gotta go, but it was nice talking to you.”
“Wait, Bob, do you like pie? I can make you one if you want.”
“Sure! Key lime is my favorite.”
“That’s perfect. I have a lime tree in my backyard. Oh, and my lemon tree occasionally hangs over your property so feel free to pick a few lemons whenever.”
“Thanks! I have a really good lemonade recipe so I might have to take you up on that.”
You went back inside and looked at the recipe in your grandmother’s cookbook and realized that you didn’t have the right limes for the pie. Getting them was easy, though, it just took a trip to the grocery store. The good thing was that it was a Saturday, so you had the day off from running your family’s business. It was a bookstore and cafe, and all of the pastries came from your grandmother’s cookbook. There had been talks of turning it into a bar at night, but that was going to be a long process. 
Making the pie only took about forty minutes, but you had to let it cool in the fridge for at least a few hours. All of the moving trucks were gone, now replaced with a few cars in the driveway. You could hear laughter coming from the backyard, and it made you happy, because the last neighbors were close to the end of their lives and didn’t have guests over very often. 
You were able to drop the pie off at around 6, and Bob had mentioned that everyone was getting ready to eat and that it would be the perfect desert. He even invited you to join the cookout, but you had already ordered a pizza and the delivery driver was on their way. You exchanged numbers before you went back to your house so that you could keep talking. Once you had disappeared from ear shot, Fanboy started talking about how hot he thought you were. 
“Don’t make it weird. She probably has a boyfriend or something,” Bob said.
“I don’t think so. She spent her day making you a pie. A day that she could’ve spent with her boyfriend, might I add,” Phoenix said.
“But that’s the neighborly thing to do. Bring the new neighbor a pie or casserole. My mom always did it for our neighbors.”
“Most people aren’t working on Saturdays. I’m just saying that if I didn’t have to work and I had a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’d be spending my day with them. Anyway, let’s try this pie.”
Everyone had a slice of it after they finished with dinner. Even Hangman, who didn’t really like desert to begin with. Rooster thought it was so good that he kept coming back for seconds and thirds, soon passing out on Bob’s couch from all of the food that he ate. Bob waited for mostly everyone to leave before he texted you to see if you were still awake, since it was almost midnight. To his surprise, you responded that you were still awake, and you got too invested in your book so you lost track of time. He was at your door within five minutes, and you had a different set of pajamas on.
“Hey, I wanted to thank you for the pie that you made. My friends and I thought it was delicious.”
“You’re welcome! Would you like to come in for a drink? I was just about to pour myself another glass of wine.”
“Sure.”
Bob followed you inside and took his shoes off by the door. You poured him a glass of wine before sitting on the couch and using your phone to play soft music. As you got to know each other more, you discovered that you had a lot in common, and you were both single. The dim lighting of the living room, combined with the wine and music, made the sexual tension stronger. He told a bad joke, but you started laughing anyways. He used that as his moment to gently kiss you.
You were into it right away, pulling him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. He groaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you started grinding on his hard cock. He broke the kiss for a moment to take his shirt off, and you quickly followed. He put his hands on your tits as you continued to grind on his cock. 
“I’d love to continue this, but can we go to your bed? I’ve never really been a fan of having sex on a couch,” he said. You chuckled and grabbed his hand, leading him upstairs to your bedroom. He laid you on the bed, continuing to kiss you as he took your shorts and underwear off. He rubbed your clit and started to finger you while you were moaning and writhing underneath him.
“God, you’re so wet,” he said. 
“It’s all for you. Holy shit, it feels so good,” you moaned.
Once he figured out that you were ready enough for him, he took his shorts off and threw them by the bed. 
“I don’t have a-,”
“I have an IUD and I’m clean.”
“Okay. You ready?”
You nodded and felt him slowly push himself into you. You moaned in pleasure and pulled him down to kiss you as he started thrusting faster. You could tell that he was close as he started rubbing your clit so that you could both release at around the same time. The fire in your stomach was burning hotter until you finally released, and Bob quickly pulled out before releasing on your stomach. He rolled over and reached for the box of tissues that you kept by your bed before cleaning both of you up.
“Do you want to stay the night?” You asked. He chuckled and nodded his head, cuddling with you until both of you fell asleep. When you woke up the next morning from your alarm going off, Bob was still holding onto you.
“I have to be at work in an hour and a half,” you said.
“Oh, okay. Do you want me to make you something to eat or some coffee?”
“No, I usually have my breakfast at work. Thanks for the offer, though. Do you want to shower together?”
Bob nodded his head and followed you to the bathroom. The shower was intimate, but not sexual, something that you enjoyed.
With your bag over your shoulder, you stepped outside of the house and walked to your car.
“I really enjoyed last night. Maybe we could go out on an actual date next time, though,” you said. Bob started blushing, and he stammered out a “yes” while nodding his head. You chuckled and got into your car to go to work. The day went by quickly as you did multiple things around the little bookstore. Not very many customers came in, but it was a Sunday, so people were usually doing other things. You heard the bell of the door ring as someone walked in, so you finished putting copies of Frankenstein on the shelves before heading to the front of the store.
“Hi, can I help you with anything?” You asked as you walked to the register. Bob was standing there, smiling.
“I didn’t know that you worked here,” he said as he tried not to laugh.
“I own the place, it’s my family’s business.”
“Oh, nice. I guess I’ll have to come by more often, then.”
“Yeah, I guess you will.”
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goosewithtwoos · 15 days
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TOO SWEET
pairing: bob x reader
summary: bobs just too sweet
“You’re just,” you struggle to find the right words. “too sweet.”
Bob furrows his brow. “Too sweet?” He asks, placing down his tea.
“Yeah, that’s you’re problem. You’re too sweet. You let people walk over you. You need to have a bit of a backbone if you want to be respected.” You explain.
The two of you were sitting in his living room, having just come back from a morning run. You hated cardio - weight lifting was a much better workout in your opinion - but Bob was a runner and had wanted you to join him for a run for so long you finally gave in.
His Naval Academy shirt was faded in stark contrast to his blue PT shorts. You’d never be caught dead in PT uniform outside of the work day but somehow he made it work.
During the run, he had been explaining how this new command was trying to keep him from hops and began training him as an unmanned aircraft system operator. Of course, it was nice to have this extra knowledge but he was a WSO and should be treated as such. He talked for most of the run, mainly because you couldn’t speak for more than three sentences without getting winded, so now was your time to offer advice.
“There’s nothing wrong with being firm.” You sip your now lukewarm coffee, making a flippant gesture with your hand.
Bob shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to seem belligerent. It is a good opportunity.”
“But it’s keeping you from your primary job.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, Bobby, you don’t actually want to be some drone operator, do you?”
His eyes dipped. “No.”
“There you go!” You exclaim. “Tell them that. Exactly like that. You want to be a WSO. You’re amazing at your job anyways, they’d be stupid to keep you from it.”
A light dust of pink began to cover Bobs’ cheeks. You knew he had a hard time receiving compliments and always tried to brush them off. Your current attempts at getting him to accept compliments was exposure therapy and you tried to interject as many as possible during your conversations.
“I’m not that good…” He mumbles into his tea as he takes another sip.
You snap your fingers at him, shaking your head. “This is what I mean. You’re letting people get into your head. Take the compliment.” He dipped his head lower, taking another lengthy sip to avoid speaking. “This is where you say, ‘You’re right’ and ‘Thank you, I know I’m amazing’.”
“I can’t say that if it’s not true.”
You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kill him or squish him. He was so adorable and yet made you want to pull your hair out. It was quite a confusing mix.
“Robert. For once, if you’ve ever loved me, take the compliment.” You say, placing down your cup.
He shrugs a little which makes you gasp in mock horror before he smiles. “Of course I love you but it’s just hard to accept.”
You shrink back in your seat, crossing your legs. “Who hurt you?” You mumble more to yourself than to him. “Have you ever taken a compliment?”
“Of course!” He cries.
You raise a brow. “Three examples, now.”
“One, when I received my acceptance to the Academy and had my college counselor beaming with pride. She told me I had done well.” He looked proud of himself remembering that one. “Two, when I graduated and my grandmother came to see me, she said that I was the smartest in the family. And three, when I-“ His voice cut off and his ears went red.
“When?” You press, leaning forward ever so slightly.
He waves you off. “Let me think of something else. It was a bad example.”
“No, no, no,” you push. “Tell me.”
He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “When I…I went…” his voice was growing smaller by the second. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand ever so slightly before finishing the statement. “on a girl and she called me a good boy.”
You couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of you. You’d never assumed Bob would have a praise kink, and especially not one that consisted of him being called a good boy.
“I’m sorry.” You weren’t. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”
Bob was completely red by this point, opting to drink his tea rather than respond.
“I mean, were you being a good boy?” He chokes.
Sputtering, he looks at you, eyes full of panic. “I can’t answer that!”
“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I told you about my…incidents.” Incidents was a polite way to put it. Bob was the first person you’d go to whenever something had gone awry during on of your hookups due to his understanding and nonjudgmental nature. No matter what you’d say, he’d listen and nod, telling you it was always the mans fault and even though you might have called him someone else’s name, it was his problem for not having a more memorable name.
“I think I was.” He says quietly, shrugging ever so slightly.
“I bet you were.” You hum, finishing off your coffee.
Bob just stares, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. His breath hitched as he tried to form a coherent sentence. A sound that slightly resembles “Huh?” come from him and you roll your eyes.
“You’re always such a good boy, Bobby.” You mean it as a joke. You were saying it in a slightly mocking tone. So why did the words feel so right? Why were they so smooth on your lips? And why - God, why - did they seem to have such an impact on both you and him?
Something changed in his eyes. They glossed over with a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever see in him. Desire. Need.
“Say it again.” It wasn’t a question, he was demanding. Damn his pretty blue eyes.
You swallow hard. This had implications. You could tell how badly he needed it and what it was doing to him. You didn’t want to just fuck with his emotions. But you did mean it. He was a good boy. He’d always helped you with reports and post-flight write ups. He always went out of his way to make sure you were okay. He was such a good boy.
“You’re a good boy.”
His breath was coming out a bit harder now, and his hands had curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out and touching you. Not like that would have been a bad thing.
“Can…” His voice failed him. He tried again. “Can I show you?”
“Show me how you’re a good boy?” You ask. Your heart was starting to race. You’d never seen this side of him before. He nods fervently. “Okay.”
It was barely a whisper. You weren’t even sure if a sound came out or you’d just mouthed the words but once you’d said them, that was all he needed.
He grabs you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a lip bruising kiss. This was definitely not sweet. This was needy, urgent, like he wanted to devour you. You kissed back, allowing yourself to melt into him. He was taking and you’d give him everything.
He leaned farther into you, pressing you backwards until you were laying on the couch. He was over you, pressing all his body weight down, and you could feel what suspiciously felt like him grinding against your thigh.
Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Your hips buck up, desperately trying to chase the friction against him.
His glasses felt cold against your skin and you smiled ever so slightly.
He moans into your mouth and pulls a hand from your hair down to your chest. Your hands grip into his shirt as he paws at you, feeling your ribs, waist, hips, anything he can get his hands on.
“Need to taste you.” He groans out, like it was paining him not to be nose deep within you. “Bet you taste so good.”
You’d never seen a man so worked up before. Bob was panting like he was in heat. And it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
“I’m still sweaty.” You say between a laugh. He moved down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin, finding any open area and leaving a mark. He groans, pressing himself down against your thigh again.
“Bet it just makes you taste better.”
Your mind was short circuiting. Was this really the same Bob who once cried while watching a nature documentary because a penguin carried around a rock instead of an egg? The same Bob who called you when he got drunk to confess that he’d once stolen a phone charger from some gas station during a cross country trip when he’d lost his wallet at a Waffle House? Somehow, it was.
And this same Bob was pushing your shirt up and pulling your shorts down.
He looks up at you and it was a sight to behold. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his pupils blown completely wide.
“Hold these?” He asks, taking off his glasses and passing them up to you. You put them on, more as a joke than anything, but the moment he saw you wearing them, he surges forwards and kisses you again.
“So pretty.” He moans. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
You would normally feel self conscious but something about him made you feel so safe and secure. You trusted him with everything. He really was -
“Such a good boy.” You murmur as he began sliding down your body again. He stops, dropping his head so his forehead presses against your lower abdomen.
“Again.” He whispers. You could feel his breath tickling ever so slightly.
“Fuck, Robert, you’re such a good boy.” Your hand runs through his hair, pulling slightly before letting go.
He lets out a whimper before getting back to the task at hand, removing your shorts entirely, leaving you in just your underwear with your shirt pushed all the way up. He finds his place between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for him but in that moment, you were sure he couldn’t care less.
He licks you through your panties, moaning when your legs tense around his head.
“Please.” You moan when his tongue presses especially well against your clit. “Need you so bad.”
He eyes flit up to yours again, his glasses having fallen partially down your face so you could see just over the rims, and it was a miracle you didn’t come right then and there.
Feral, a man possessed.
He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, he just pulls your panties to the side and dives in.
It was good. God, it was so fucking good. Your hand finds his hair again, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was like he knew your body better than you did, the way he could alternate between fucking you with his tongue to sucking on your clit.
“Fuck, Robert,” you cry out. “You’re such a good boy. Oh my God, so good. Such a good boy, holy shit.” You were babbling at this point, the words didn’t make much sense in your mind but your mouth just kept moving. “My sweet boy, my good boy, fuck honey, you’re amazing.”
He pulls away and you want to cry. He presses kisses against your thigh while you try to remember how to breath properly.
“You taste so good. Wanna keep you here forever so I can have this forever.” He says.
You nod in agreement. “Please. You can. Anytime you want.”
His groan sends vibrations through you. You’re mind is a daze. Your hand cups his cheek, gently rubbing the side of his face. His stubble feels rough under your skin but the coarseness only makes your heart swell more.
“Gonna make me come like a good boy?” You ask, voice barely a whisper.
He responds by diving back in, tongue licking up your slit, collecting your wetness on his lips. Your back arches again, hips bucking. His glasses begin to slip off but your mind can’t care about anything other than the man who’s head is currently between your legs, showing you more pleasure than any man has shown you before.
He wraps his arm around so that his hands are free and you can feel his biceps tensing under your legs. The thought of his muscles had never turned you on before but suddenly, it caused a rush of heat to shoot through you.
His thumb comes down to play with your clit while his mouth still works your slit. The light teasing circles from his finger was such a different feeling from how his relentless and eager tongue was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You could feel that cool in your stomach tightening. Your hips were bucking more frequently and when you felt his index finger run across your folds, you knew you were a goner.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Robert, please.” You moan.
“You don’t gotta beg.” He tells you, resting his head on your thigh for a moment, taking you in. His fingers were still working you, keeping you right on the edge. “I’ll give you everything you need.” His accent was thicker than normal and you wanted to see just how deep it could get. Another time though, you didn’t want any distractions from this current event.
When his mouth connects with your clit, you swear it was a religious experience, and you were coming before you even realized it.
“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” You keep repeating as he works you down from your high. Finally, once he deems you to be clean enough, he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you uh…do you want anything for yourself?”
He looks to the side sheepishly. “I’m…good.” You sit up quickly and look at him. A wet spot stains his crotch just barely visible in his PT shorts. The thought of him coming just from eating you out sends another wave through you.
Perhaps a five minute intermission before round two wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
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ryebecca · 29 days
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a dagger tale as old as time: "Look, Anita! Puppies everywhere!" 🐶 🐾 ✨ | (a 101 Dalmatians!Bob AU because you can't tell me that Bob Floyd isn't the most Roger-coded of all time - thanks to @withahappyrefrain and @bobfloydsbabe for the idea!)
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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years
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for bob floyd and the injury prompt list can i request “hey let me take a look at that” and “i can't believe you kept this to yourself all this time... how did nobody notice?” pls and thank uuuuu
Hey, anon! Here's the first prompt and then I'll post the second one next :) Hope you enjoy!
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Bob’s hands moved up and down your back, keeping you close as he kissed you again and again. You moaned softly into his mouth. Your fingers caught on the buttons of his uniform as you tried to pull him closer. Bob took a gasp of air and came back for more, the kiss hard and deep as his hand slid up to tug on your hair.
You broke the kiss with a sharp cry.
     “Woah, sweetheart,” Bob stopped, the sweet romantic haze of before evaporating as you reached up to hold the back of your hair. “Are you all right? I didn’t, I didn’t mean to,”
     “I’m fine, it’s okay, Bobby,” you gently rubbed at the ache. “I fell and hit my head the other day, it’s just bruised.”
     “Turn around,” Bob’s steady hands shifted you around before you had chance to accept or deny the request. “Let me take a look at that.”
     “I already went to the infirmary, they said I was cleared.” You winced as he gently prodded at your head.
     “Sorry,” Bob’s touch grew featherlight. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
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themissingmango · 2 months
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enthyrea · 1 year
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
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floydsmuse · 2 months
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I will ease your mind.
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Warnings: none! it’s just fluff and some slight angst?
Description: Bob soothes you to sleep by singing you, yours and his wedding song. (wc: 800+)
Tagging: @auroralightsthesky. Mary I couldn’t have written this without your constant encouragement & kind words :,) this one’s for you my friend <3
Song: “Bridge Over Troubled Water” by Simon & Garfunkel. I’d recommend giving it a listen before or during reading.
A/N: hi! so this is the first oneshot i’ve written in a minute. i love this song & have been listening to it on repeat lately picturing Bob singing it to me, which gave me the idea to write this haha :) i hope you all enjoy it <3
————————————————————————
Bob could tell something was off, from the very moment you two settled in for the night. Your lips barely grazed against his when bidding him his usual goodnight kiss, you avoided all eye contact, and were quick to flip over onto your side that faced away from your lover’s longing gaze.
Bob didn’t want to push or pry, but he knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. He didn’t want to have to witness you falling asleep feeling on edge. He wanted to comfort you and ease you the best way he knew he could.
He was gentle, making subtle movements and turning just enough to notice you starting to stir a bit. Bob could tell just how tense you were. You were practically balled up like a kitten and were moved towards the edge of your side of the bed. Your knees were scrunched up towards your chest and your shoulders were squeezed together. Bob was afraid that if you wound yourself up any tighter, then you would somehow end up stuck that way, in this very position.
Bob slowly moved an inch, not wanting to startle you. He oh so carefully reached out and placed a large palm onto your back and began to move his hand in soothing circles starting from the middle of your back and slowly traveling upwards towards your shoulder blades. he curled his fingers, which allowed for his nails to run along your clothed skin & he gently kneaded his thumb to soften up your tight muscles, which elicited a light purr from of you.
Bob’s movements didn’t let up, as he leaned down to press a light kiss onto your head. You were still tense and wound up, only letting out the littlest of sighs and hums from the soothing touches of your husband. Bob knew what could possibly fix this.
He began to lightly hum the sounds of a song, that he knew would pique your interest. You didn’t move initially, just soaking in the light grazes of Bob’s magical palm.
You suddenly perked up when you heard Bob reciting the words out loud, singing in his calm and quiet voice, as he began simultaneously running his fingers through your hair,
When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them off.
Oh this man, you thought to yourself. Bridge Over Troubled Water was the first song you both danced to at your wedding and it was just destined to make you crumble into a million and one pieces.
You reached back to gather your husband’s hand into your much smaller one and ran your fingers along the back of his palm, making sure to gently rub at the wedding band on his finger to further relax yourself. Bob continued to sooth you, his voice sounding like an angel’s sent from the Heaven’s above,
I’m on your side. Oh when times get rough, and friends just can’t be found.
You closed your eyes, soaking in the song that meant so much to you and your relationship. Flashes of your wedding day and marrying the love of your life were running through your mind. Bob had told you during your vows that the very first moment he saw you that day at the Hard Deck, he knew there was something so special about you. He knew you were going to be his person, til the end of your days. He made a promise very much like the lyrics of this song, that he would be by your side during all the ups and down. That he would dry your tears, ease your troubles and mind, and would most importantly be a friend to you if no one else could be found.
Bob persisted on. Singing out the words,
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down…
And that was it. Those last lines of lyrics made all the stress and uneasiness that built up from the day be completely released from you. Tears fell from your tired eyes and rolled down your cheeks, as you let out a distinct sob into your pillow. It felt good to finally break away from anxiety’s clutches and allow yourself to feel freely.
Bob had paused for a moment, wanting to coax you to further let it all out and breathe for him. He knew how much you needed this and was glad he could be there beside you, to help you get past these intense built up feelings. Your husband continued to serenade you into the night, until your breathing finally settled and the only sounds heard were the bustling winds outside your window and the lightest of snores falling from your lips.
-
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ficsilike-reblogged · 7 months
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Take On Me
Summary: What happens when the love of Bob’s life finally makes a move…the night before he deploys? Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is an entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked a-ha’s song “Take On Me.” I hope y’all enjoy! This is Bob’s side story from my Jake series, Invisible Smoke. But you don’t need to read that to read this. Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, unprotected sex, cockwarming (?)/unrealistic post-sex activities, angst (with a happy ending), being bad at feelings
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Bob didn’t particularly like nights before deployment. There were the obvious reasons—being shipped out and stuck on a carrier for weeks on end wasn’t exactly the best part of his job—but the pageantry of the night before, the dress whites, the careful goodbyes, that was what he really hated.
Natasha had dragged him to the Hard Deck so he could at least say goodbye to a few friends in person since he had already video called his family. He watched Natasha pull Bradshaw out onto the deck for a quieter moment alone. It was about time they got together. Bob had been one of the few who knew about her feelings for their fellow aviator and he had accidentally discovered that they were reciprocated a few days after the Uranium Mission. It really had been kind of ridiculous watching them dance around each other for months.
He was happy they were finally together. Really. Who wouldn’t be happy to see two of his closest friends be happy? But it really just twisted the dull knife behind his ribs that always came when Bob realized how alone he was. He didn’t have someone to say goodbye to like that.
Penny gave him another ginger ale with her usual sweet smile before he started back toward the table in the corner where he’d left his hat. He pushed through the crowd, earning a few slaps to his back and claps to his shoulders by other patrons who knew what awaited him in the morning, and settled back into his seat with a sigh. He scanned the crowd, seeing Harvard and Yale chat up two women on what looked like a bachelorette trip and then Payback and Mickey dancing with their wives near the jukebox. Payback’s wife, a stunning woman named Sidney, pulled back just enough to wipe tears from her cheeks. Payback gently knocked her hand away and finished for her before kissing her forehead. Bob turned away, feeling like he was intruding with a persistent tightness in his chest.
And his traitorous mind conjured your smiling face, bright and happy.
What Bob had with you was…nice. It was quiet and gentle and strictly platonic, right now. Bob would never understand how Hangman was the one to introduce you to him.
“Trust me, Baby on Board, you’ll love her. She’s perfect for you.”
Bob had been fully prepared to grit his teeth and bear whomever Seresin had deemed ‘perfect,’ and expected to meet an Instagram model or a gym buddy of his—not that there was anything wrong with them, they were usually lovely but just a little intense. But then you walked in.
You with your thick-rimmed glasses and soft smile and softer laugh.
While Jake bragged on your behalf, stating that you were the best CPA in the city, the only person he’d trust with his taxes, andthat Penny trusted you with the Hard Deck’s books, you fiddled nervously with the bendy straw Penny had given you in your little cup of pop.
It was Jake’s fiancée—a good friend of Bob’s who deserved the world, if anyone asked him—who quieted the man’s well-meaning rant with a hand on his arm. “I think he gets it. She is amazing.” The other woman winked and earned a soft smile from you before turning back toward her fiancé. “But you still owe me a game of pool, yeah?”
As the couple walked away, leaving you and Bob alone, your (beautiful) eyes tracked up to meet his gaze. Your smile was small and soft and you drummed your manicured nails against the plastic cup in your grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”
And that was it, really. You had asked Bob if he knew how to play pool and then he offered to teach you. That led to soft giggles and missed trick shots and then quiet conversations about your lives and phone numbers exchanged before you parted ways for the night.
It was…good. Really. Even if it always teetered on the edge of becoming something more but never did.
Bob liked your good morning texts and the way you insisted on paying for brunch every time you invited him to try a new restaurant that just opened up. He liked that you didn’t mind helping him get the rest of the Daggers home from the Hard Deck if they had one drink too many. He liked that the people he trusted with his life liked you.
He…liked you. And he knew it was getting dangerously close to a different L word and that just had his mind circling back to how much he hated nights before deployments. You weren’t here. Bob didn’t blame you, of course. One of your more “difficult” clients had needed your attention immediately and had flown you out to Los Angeles about a week ago and Bob hadn’t wanted to disturb you with the news of the deployment. He’d asked Jake’s fiancée to tell you when you got back into town and he had an email queued up to be sent to you, too, crossing his fingers that he’d be able to still talk with you when you both had a moment to spare.
His gaze once again roamed around the bustling bar and unintentionally picked out all the couples. Dammit. Maybe, he just needed to get some sleep. He needed to be on the carrier early tomorrow morning anyway and wallowing in self pity wasn’t really a good waste of time. He finished his soda and waved to Penny and then placed a few bills on the bar to cover his tab before setting off toward the door.
This was good. He could get back to base and get some sleep before getting to the carrier just after dawn. But, as he moved around a rambunctious pair of lieutenants jockeying over their stances for darts, he nearly collided with a solid, soft body.
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
Familiar hands pressed at his chest in a bid to stay upright and the scent of rose and amber immediately flooded his senses. And Bob knew immediately it was you.
Bob set his hands on your hips with a growing smile and watched the realization dawn on your face. “Bob!” A smile he could see in his dreams broke across your lips before you wrapped your arms over his shoulders in a tight hug. “I’m so happy I caught you. I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”
It took Bob a moment to shake himself free of the shock of your arrival and gave you a smile of his own. Some higher power was laughing at him right now (or maybe it was just Seresin) because Bob thought you’d never looked more beautiful in your short dress with buttons all the way down the front and strappy heels. “I didn’t know you were back.”
Your smile widened the slightest bit and you glanced at something over his shoulder, raising one hand to wave at someone. Bob turned in time to see Jake and his fiancée both raising their glasses in his direction. They knew. They had planned this.
But, when one of your hands swept over his shoulder to rest over his happily thrumming heart, all the embarrassment and gratitude he could have expressed at that moment crumbled away. He could deal with them later (and by ‘deal with them,’ Bob meant probably buy them a round and say thank you).
“Want to get out of here?” You asked, fingers brushing over the carefully arranged pins on his chest before thumbing at one of the ornate buttons of his jacket.
Bob knew you didn’t mean it like that, despite your wandering fingers, but he still had to suck in a quick breath to steady his thoughts before smiling. “Yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.”
You were quick to drop one of your hands to his, tugging him toward the door with a soft laugh he knew so well. The night air was tinged with salt water and the barest hint of spilled beer as soon as you stepped outside and down the handful of steps onto the parking lot. You gave him another smile over your shoulder as you started, “I hope you don’t mind-”
Bob fought the urge to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue for months and instead settled for, “you have to know that I never mind.”
You laughed again and shook your head but the noise quickly stalled when your foot connected when one of the concrete parking dividers and you nearly toppled for the second time that night. Bob tightened his grip on your hand and kept you upright with a quick tug that had you stumbling forward until you collided with his chest with a soft ‘oof’ and you laughed as you tucked your face into his jacket for a moment. You had a habit of doing that, hiding your smiles in the safety of Bob’s body. His neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. All of them had been places for you to squish your face. He never did mind, happily accepting any sort of physical affection you would bestow. Knowing you trusted him enough to keep you safe when you felt vulnerable.
Again, Bob knew he was dangerously close to that other word.
“I swear I haven’t had a drink at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” Your voice shook and Bob tried not to read too much into that either as you looked down and groaned. “Oh, maybe that’s why. My shoe’s come undone.”
Bob didn’t even blink before kneeling on the pavement and grasping at the delicate straps. He could feel the heat of your skin as he carefully threaded the strap through the buckle again and as he tugged it closed again, the pads of his fingers brushed against your ankle and you were just as soft as he imagined.
What he had not imagined was the shiver his simple touch would elicit from you. You let out a strange, stuttering breath as Bob looked up at you. Oh.
Maybe it was the growing adrenaline from the impending deployment, or maybe the way the low lights were reflecting in your eyes, or maybe it was a dawning realization that you could maybe feel the same as he did. His fingers trailed up your leg as he took his time standing, almost smirking when he felt how goosebumps raced across your skin.
Your next breath stuttered and Bob felt it against his neck as he finally stood straight and once again settled his hands on your hips.
“I um…” Your throat bobbed. “Th-thank you.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
His position and training as a WSO had Bob picking up on minute details, but he’d always been that way. He was the kid who was delighted with a ladybug landing on his jeans when the rest of his family watched booming fireworks on the Fourth of July. So, he noticed when your eyes flickered down to his lips. You moved closer and your lips puckered.
You were going to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him.
But Bob didn’t move forward to close the distance, no matter how much he wanted to and he watched your face crumple.
“Bob?” Your voice was weak as he took a small step back; Bob didn’t let you go far and kept his hands firmly planted on your hips. He wouldn’t let you go. Not yet. “Did I do something wrong? I…I’m sorry. I thought-”
But he just shook his head, ducking his chin the slightest bit toward his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. I just want to make sure this is what you actually want and not because I’m shipping out in a few hours. Deployments make people think-”
You moved to grasp his face, trying to tilt his chin just enough to make him look at you again. There was a desperation in your gaze that let him know that you needed him to hear you, make him understand. “Bob, I can’t lie and tell you that this deployment has nothing to do with it, all right? But this is the first time you’re being sent away from me. I know these things can be dangerous. I know that. I’ve heard horror stories about…” You couldn’t even finish the thought and shook it away. Your thumbs pressed gentle arcs into his cheeks before you dropped your hold. “Let’s just get out of here, okay? We can pretend none of this happened and just go get ice cream and sit and silence and watch the water until you’re sick of me.”
“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” Bob said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think of how that would sound to you.
An unsteady smile pushed at your mouth as you took a step backward and then another and another until you were leading him toward your car—Bob quickly redirected you toward his trusty GMC and opened the door for you with a smile of his own. The air in the truck’s cab was tense for a slow song or two, just long enough for you to squirm in your seat until Bob reached over and grabbed your hand.
He didn’t want to upset you—it wasn’t an outright rejection, not at all—he just wanted to be sure that you wanted him like he wanted you.
Bob didn’t do this. He didn’t spend the entire night talking, laughing, pretending he didn’t have to disappear for a few weeks. But with you it felt right. It felt like he should have been doing this with you for months. Years.
Ice cream was purchased at a small roadside shop and Bob pulled onto an overlook and shut off the truck, letting the dim moonlight fill the cab as you both quietly ate your sweet treat—strawberry for Bob, pistachio for you. It was calm and peaceful, a far cry from the noise of the Hard Deck, but he could feel when you started to get nervous again, curling your hands into the skirt of your dress for a moment before starting to fiddle with the cloth-covered buttons on the front.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the deployment?” You asked, and Bob could hear the trepidation in your voice. You turned in your seat to face him and Bob was quick to do the same and you both scooted a little closer to each other on the bench seat, legs awkwardly skirting around the stick shift. “I would have come home sooner.”
But Bob just shook his head and felt his nose scrunch as he tried to pick his words carefully. He didn’t stop until he felt you trail your finger across his brow, wordlessly telling him to relax. Bob couldn’t even remember when you had started doing it, but he had savored it every time and felt his shoulders slump while he finally found the words. He carefully reached up and grasped your hand, linking your fingers together for a moment. “I don’t think I knew how to say goodbye to you.”
You searched Bob’s face and he tried not to hope too much with the look in your eyes. “Bob, I… you don’t have to have anything special to say to me. But please just say something.”
Bob didn’t even realize he was moving until his lips were firm against yours, almost unyielding. Your glasses clicked together as his hand anchored itself on the back of your neck and tilted your face just so but neither of you seemed to mind. He could feel your smile against his mouth.
Your fingers sunk into his hair as his tongue slid against the seam of your lips. He’d give you anything anything anything, and this was no different. All his thoughts about the deployment, about what waited for him in the morning, flew out the window as he hauled you closer, pulling you onto his lap. The warmth of you immediately sank through the heavy fabric of his trousers and he groaned. The noise earned him a breathy sigh against his mouth and your hips sinking and rocking against his again.
“I wanted to do this right. I wanted to do this right with you,” Bob murmured against your mouth as his fingers swiftly undid the buttons down the front of your dress.
“You are,” you said, tone breathy and bordering on needy. “I promise you are. This feels right. Everything feels right with you.”
Bob’s fingers stalled and his bright blue eyes moved up your face until they were boring into yours. “Sweetheart…”
“I mean it,” you said. “Everything feels right with you.”
It might have been less of a shock for Bob if someone had hit him in the chest with a baseball bat. Something whispered at the back of his mind to tell you, to tell you now and make sure you were saying what he thought and hoped you were saying. But he didn’t. Because wouldn’t that be cruel? To draw that out of you before leaving for weeks at a time with no firm promise to return to you? So, instead he kissed you again and tried to press into his mind the way you felt against his mouth as he pushed your dress from your shoulders. He moved to press you down across the bench seat and licked at the thrumming pulse in your neck as he peeled the little scrap of lace down your legs and then shoved them into his pocket.
He would keep those.
Bob moved, knee knocking into the steering wheel for a moment, shoving himself between your thighs after shrugging off his jacket. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, your knee, your thigh, before nosing at your perfect hip bones.
“Bob,” you whined. “Bob, please.”
The salty tang of you was immediately addicting and Bob wrapped his arms over your thighs and dragged you closer closer closer with each flick and twist of his tongue. He could do this forever. He shouldn’t have waited this long.
Your fingers curling through his hair knocked any other thought right out of his head and all that was left was you you you and how your thighs clamped over his ears as you came.
When your legs stopped shaking enough, you hooked your hands behind his head and hauled him up, pressing a rushed, sloppy, perfect kiss against his mouth. Bob’s hands skimmed over the soft skin of your thighs as he settled between them, feeling your wet heat soak his skin.
“Please,” you whispered against his mouth. “Please.”
Bob’s knee hit the horn when he went to shove his trousers and briefs down and he was embarrassed only for a moment but laughed along with you as you dragged him back into your hold, kissing him sweetly as you helped him move back into the cradle of your thighs. You felt divine. Warm, wet, and tight…and perfect. And every movement felt even better. You were clawing at his back as Bob mouthed at the swells of your breasts. You were everywhere, he was everywhere, and he couldn’t get enough.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whimpered when he raised his head again to lick into your mouth.
Faster and faster, Bob drove into you until you were shaking in his grip, sighing against his spit-slick lips and Bob was quick to follow, collapsing over you and hips rutting into yours lazily in a mindless haze until you whined against his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured as he maneuvered just enough to press up onto his forearms on either side of your head. Bob didn’t move to pull out, not just yet, enjoying your warmth for a little longer. Just a little longer.
You were beautiful. Sweaty and makeup smudged, you were gorgeous. Bob trailed a finger across your cheek, catching a tear as it slid from your eye.
“Sweetheart?” Did he hurt you? Did something happen-
“Stay with me?” Your eyes were wide and pleading as your grip tightened on his shoulders just a fraction. “Just… Can we just stay like this a little longer?”
Something in Bob’s chest twisted, almost uncomfortable, almost too close to that other word. But still, he said, “of course, sweetheart. Of course.”
The conversation that followed was soft and quiet, filled with everything and nothing, and Bob’s eyes slowly closed with the sound of your heart and the waves outside lulling him to sleep.
A noise woke Bob up some time later. It could have been a passing car or the waves against the shore, it didn’t matter, really. It was still before dawn, the sky an inky shade of blue. He turned to the side, his back protesting the slightest bit, and saw you beside him. Your mouth was parted with sleep, soft breaths escaping in deep, even intervals.
You were beautiful.
And he had to let you go.
**
You hardly remembered waking up and getting dressed again. But you remembered leaning out of the truck to straighten Bob’s hat atop his head. Last night had been perfect and tinged with some sort of unspoken melancholy. Why had you waited so long? “Can I…can I come with you to the carrier? Wave you off?” It was a selfish ask, but you wanted more time, just a little more to cling to before your heart leapt out from between your ribs to try to follow him out to sea. For one of the few times in your life, you knew it wasn’t better to be safe than sorry. You had to take a chance.
Bob’s unfairly pretty blue eyes nearly sparkled in the low light of dawn as he smiled at you. “Of course, sweetheart.”
The ride out to the carrier was quiet aside from Bob asking if you could drop his truck off with Bradshaw. You readily agreed and hated how your stomach twisted when he parked. The imposing behemoth of a ship loomed on the horizon and you walked beside Bob, his duffel in hand, as you weaved through the early morning crowd. He slowed to a stop a few paces away from the carrier’s ramp and turned back to you.
You watched his jaw flex, tight and wanting, and you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you had felt for months, and you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue but they crumbled to nothing when the carrier blared its horn, calling everyone in and pulling Bob’s attention for a moment.
Tears started to build at the backs of your eyes as the carrier blared its horn for a second time. You had to let him go. You just learned what it was like to have him, and you had to let him go.
Bob turned back to you and you recognized the determined set of his jaw as he reached for you after dropping his bag at his feet. His hands smoothed up your arms and hooked at the back of your neck, thumb pressing an incessant pressure at the hinge of your jaw. You could have melted then, you were puddy in his hold and it almost made it worse. “I shouldn’t ask you this. It’s selfish and cruel-”
“Ask me anyway,” you said, the syllables cracking in your throat.
“Will you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me? I know it is a lot to ask, to take me on and-”
Those damn tears came back and you surged forward to press your lips to his again. The kiss was unhurried and uncoordinated but you couldn’t pull away. Not just yet. Not until your lungs burned and your cheeks felt cold. “I’ve been waiting for you for months. What’s a few weeks more?”
Bob’s smile was small but you knew you’d remember it for the rest of your life. He kissed you, soft and breathless, before scooping up his duffel again and walking backward toward the ramp. He was keeping his eyes on you. And you wouldn’t look away. Not now.
In eight weeks’ time, you’d be back here, ready and waiting. And you knew he’d come home. To you.
A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!
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