GET TO KNOW ME:
I swear, man, I just woke up in this place. One minute, I was, you know, getting my blood drawn for this medical study, and the next I'm here. In my pajamas. I don't know what's happening.
characters ▸ BOB REYNOLDS
Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Sentry x Fem!Reader!
Word Count: 8,184
Smuttiness below the cut! 18+ Minors DNI! (Fingering, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Sentry makes an appearance, Dirty Talk, Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up), Hyperspermia, probably more but I don’t remember)
Author’s Note: This is from the smut prompts you guys sent me and it went off the rails evidently, so I hope y’all enjoy :) This is just pure smut with no plot which is shocking but yeah, I was in a mood lol.
You had found yourself in Bob’s bedroom for the fourth time that week, intertwined with him while the two of you were in another one of your breathless battles that neither of you ever surrendered to.
There was no gentle beginning to it. No lingering conversation or careful negation of who would lead and who would follow. The question was always answered through your touches–through the impatient gripping of hands on hips, fingers clawing and scratching the skin beneath your clothes, with mouths colliding hard enough to leave your lips tender, raw and wet afterward. It was decided in every shove and answering pull, in the gasps and quick breaths when one of you managed to gain an advantage–no matter how temporary it may have been.
Tonight, Bob had swung open the door before you even managed to knock with an expression that was almost deceptively mild, even though his heart had been galloping for the past hour as he paced his bedroom and listened for your specific soft footsteps that would pad down the hall when things in the Watchtower got quiet enough.
His hair had still been damp from the shower he took after training, his light-brown strands falling in loose waves around his face and curling slightly against the back of his neck where they were still drying–distinctly darker from the water that still remained there. He wore a faded navy t-shirt that was spotted with barely noticeable droplets, and a pair of thin plaid pyjama pants to compensate for his temperature. It made him look casual–domestic even–so much so that anyone else might have mistaken him for a harmless man who didn’t harness any power apart from being a nice, down to Earth person.
But you had known better–everyone did.
The door had barely clicked shut behind you before his hands were on your waist, pulling you towards him and digging firmly into your hips, making sure your body was flush against him. His mouth descended on yours just as you opened it to speak, and the kiss he gave you contradicted every meek glance he had given you throughout the evening–every moment he had looked away too quickly whenever your eyes met across the common room.
His teeth caught your lower lip, biting down just hard enough to make your breath hitch, and he swallowed that sound as his head tilted to deepen the kiss before either of you could steal enough air to form clear thoughts. Your arms weaved around his neck and your fingers found the damp strands of hair at the nape, feeling the wetness sinking into the pads of them as you tugged, earning a small groan from Bob. His grip contracted around your hips, gathering the fabric of your shirt in his fists, pressing harder against you, and the thin cotton of his pyjama pants did little to hide how thoroughly the simple tug had affected him–feeling the semi-hardness of his length pressing into your belly.
He began moving you backward through the room, guiding you toward his bed without ever fully lifting his mouth from yours. Every step he took forward forced one from you in return, and he kept you steady whenever you stumbled, making sure your movements never faltered. You opened your mouth to him when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, letting the kiss turn wet and uncoordinated as your tongues met sloppily. His breath grew uneven, spilling hot across your skin whenever an awkward angle forced your mouths apart, but neither of you seemed capable of tolerating the separation. Because each time you broke away, Bob followed.
His nose brushed yours, his mouth finding the corner of your lips, then your jaw, giving you a moment to catch your breath, before returning to your mouth with renewed insistence. He kissed you with the hunger of someone who had spent lifetimes denying himself of even the smallest touch, despite the fact that it had been less than twenty-four hours since he had last held you in this exact room, and you relished in the fact that he wanted you so badly that he could barely control himself.
When the backs of your knees struck the soft edge of the mattress you fell down onto it and Bob followed you without hesitation–not wanting the kiss to break–his body hunching as he put his knee between yours so your legs could come up to frame his hips, feeling your ankles locking behind his lower back, urging him to climb on with you. He pushed your body up the mattress by your hips, messing up the uniformity of his duvet in the process, and when he was satisfied with the space he created, he joined you.
The bed dipped beneath your combined weight, its springs giving a quiet protest as he settled between your thighs and moved one of his hands from your hip to brace beside your head so he wouldn’t crush you completely beneath him. It was a thoughtful gesture, something that he never failed to miss because he knew that while he looked meek, beneath all his clothes he had the body of a god–and the power of one to boot.
He didn’t want to risk hurting you in any way, especially when there was always the fragile line the two of you toed when it came to these fleeting moments of intimacy. He thankfully never lost control, but it didn’t mean that he never felt Sentry trying to break through the surface any time you touched him, or kissed him, or moaned quietly in his ear when he was inside you–when you were trying to keep the rest of the Watchtower from hearing the desperate noises that escaped either of you–or when he would cum inside you and bite your shoulder to muffle his grunts and the wave of power that coursed through his veins like an inferno that couldn’t be put out. Even through the struggle though, he still managed to push Sentry down, just so he could keep these moments exclusively between the two of you.
His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, palm gliding over the soft bare skin of your waist. The heat of him was searing against yours as he ran his thumb slowly along the curve of your stomach before finding the lace trim of your underwear–tracing it without dipping beneath the material. The denial of his touch felt deliberate, and just as you raised your hips to attempt to seek some sort of friction Bob pressed his hips firmly between your thighs to hold you still–pinning you down on the mattress to keep you from squirming. His rough thumb skimmed the lace again, hearing you whine against his mouth at the teasing, as your stomach clenched at the burning urge to fight against the weight he had on your body.
You pulled the hair at the nape of his neck again, dragging your nails along his scalp in an attempt to even out the score, hearing a strained, involuntary moan breaking his throat and vibrating through your mouth, as his body tensed above you, and his hand tightened hard enough on your hip to promise faint bruises along your skin by the morning. It was a fracture in his composure, and you smiled into the kiss, satisfied that you had such control over him.
When his grip loosened, you took advantage of the opening by lifting your hips towards his, dragging the damp heat of your clothed core along the hard length of his erection that was trapped behind the thin fabric his pyjama pants, feeling the way it twitched at the contact–at the grind that made everything in his mind jumble into one conjoined thought.
Bob tore his mouth away from the kiss quickly, cinching his eyes shut as his jaw locked so abruptly that the muscles jumped beneath the skin. You did it again, slower this time, letting the pressure build, feeling his fingers flexing and digging into your flesh, trying to keep you from moving, but there was no use, you already seized what little power you had, and you were going to ride it out until he forced you to stop.
“Do-Don’t,” He warned, though the word lacked any authority when his body pushed down to meet you–like he was magnetized to the warmth that was seeping through the barriers between your pelvis’. You gave him another kiss, smiling against his mouth.
“Don’t what?” You asked innocently, conjuring him to open his eyes. His pupils had nearly consumed the blue of his irises whole, but something warmer, shimmered at their edges–a diffused haze of gold that surfaced and disappeared with each uneven breath he took. Unfocused, and completely consumed with lust.
“You know what.” He shot back, feeling your fingers sliding deeper into his hair to give another lazy pull to the strands. His shoulders trembled, and his breathing turned shallow before another sound escaped him. A small crease between his eyebrows began to form–the same one that appeared when the pleasure became too overwhelming for him to conceal. The tilt of his head gave you easy access to the line of his throat, and you leaned up and pressed your open mouth against the warm skin beneath his jaw, tasting the clean saltiness of his sweat, and the faint residual soap from the shower. He let out a shaky sigh, a helpless one, almost like he was slowly giving into you and turning pliant beneath your lips
“You’re making me lo-lose it, Y/N…” He confessed, as your tongue dragged along the stubble, leaving a trail of saliva that sank into his flesh. You loosened your fingers from his hair bringing your free hand up to push the damp strands away from his face, noticing his lashes fluttering at the tenderness of your touch.
“I don’t have to make you do anything…You were already losing it when you were pacing around this room waiting for me.” You whispered, your breath cooling the trail of saliva you left, feeling him shudder again while you pulled back to look up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes, tempting him to take the bait you had laid out–hoping that he would fall for it.
He stared at you for half a breath, and before he could even think he kissed you hard enough to force your head deeper into the duvet, devouring the words right out of your mouth. His breathing had gone ragged, and finally, the hand that had been tracing the lace of your underwear slipped beneath the material.
His fingers met the slick heat of you and a broken moan tore from your throat, as he drank it down and relished in the way he was able to turn the tables so efficiently. A smug curve touched the corner of his mouth, sliding two fingertips through your folds to gather your arousal on them before circling your entrance, feeling the pulsing heat that begged to be filled by him. You wanted to press down towards his touch–to force his fingers into you because you were so desperate to feel something–but just as you were about to, he trailed his soaked fingers up to your clit and pressed firmly on the swollen bundle of nerves.
The sparks that ignited up your spine was immediate–like you had been touched by something electric–and your hips jerked up into his hand, craving the friction that it provided. He held you down with the weight of his body, keeping you locked in place, as he found a steady circular rhythm–making sure his touch was firm enough to keep you in this desperate state, and patient enough to make you want more.
He pulled away from the kiss and tallied your reactions through his half-lidded eyes, watching as your lashes fluttered, and how your swollen lips parted on laboured breaths, and the way your brows pinched when he angled his fingers just right to rub a tighter circle along the uncovered nerves. He could hear the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and how the heat of your body had raised just enough to start forming a line of sweat along your hairline–and instantly he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.
Your hands dragged down the front of his shirt–scratching against the cotton in a silent plea to feel him, to bask in the warmth of his skin, to relish in his body. He knew the natural progression of your desperation–how you would squirm and pull and tug at him until he gave you what you needed–and instantly he sat back just enough to remove his hand from your underwear to yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside, exposing the broad, powerful lines of his chest and abs to you, showing off the uneven flush that had crept across his body.
Your eyes moved over him freely, cataloguing every shift of muscle beneath his skin, watching the way his abdomen tightened with each uneven breath, and the faint sheen of sweat that was beading and gathering in the defined grooves of his chest. Usually Bob would have found a way to fold himself back against you, to hide from your silent, praiseful gaze, but seeing the pure want in your expression seemed to have froze him in his spot above you.
Your hands came up to settle on his waist, as your fingertips traced the scattered freckles there, before sliding higher to let your nails lightly score the warm flank of his back, feeling goosebumps raising under the touch. A mischievous smile pulled at your mouth, your teeth catching your lower lip as you brought one hand across the hard plane of his stomach, taking in every subtle twitch the muscles elicited while you followed the natural ridges of them, pulling a low sound from his throat.
Bob pushed your shirt upward, his palms spreading hot against your belly until they settled just beneath your breasts.
“Should ta-take this off,” He murmured, as a shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. You sat up just enough to strip the shirt over your head quickly, sending it to the floor to join his with a careless throw, and just as your skin met the warmth of the bedroom you hooked your arms under his and pulled him down towards you, needing to be crushed by the full weight of him, and to feel the solid heat of his chest against your breasts. He gave a breathless, startled laugh as he settled over you, blanketing your body completely with his while he adjusted to make sure he could hold himself up just enough so you could breathe–putting more weight on his lower half to compensate for the position.
His mouth found the side of your throat immediately, parting wide so he could place wet kisses over the skin before licking your pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath his tongue. It was a joy to realize how worked up he made you just through simple little touches–and how easy it was to shut off the part of you that always wanted to be in control. A thought crossed his mind about how it would be if he ever did the same–how the entire room would probably be left in a state of disaster by the time he was done–and he couldn’t help but shiver in fear. He was already playing with fire by giving Sentry just a hint of the experience he got with you–by allowing him to look through his eyes, and locking him in as an observer. The temptation to just let it all go was hanging in the midst of the sounds you were making–those breathy little whimpers that always seemed to escape you no matter how much you tried to suppress them–though he pushed it all down to focus on you.
His hand slipped back down between your legs, bypassing the waistband of your underwear once more, only this time two thick fingers pressed inside you in one smooth stroke. You were already so wet that your body took them in easily–fully prepared for the intrusion–but the stretch it provided was still enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Your back arched off the mattress, pulling him deeper, pressing your chest against his, and he breathed out a sigh as your walls fluttered and clenched around him. His fingers curled, searching with careful strokes until they found the soft rigid spot that made your thighs lock around his hips and your ankles dig deeper into his back.
“Fuck–Bob–“ You choked out, as you tipped your head further back into the duvet, giving him more access to your throat, needing to feel his lips everywhere. He took the invitation, peppering kisses lower along the column of it, grazing his teeth over the thin skin at the base of your neck while his fingers set a steady rhythm–slow, thorough thrusts that filled you again and again without fail, while he continuously curled his fingers to add to the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you. His thumb found your clit, covering it completely, and he began to circle it in the same unhurried cadence he had done before, never quite giving you enough pressure to tip over the edge, only enough to keep the tension coiling tighter in your belly. You could feel your muscles tightening as your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding onto the only tangible thing that was keeping you tethered to your conscious state.
You bit back a whine that was aching to tear itself from your throat, focusing on the wet slide of his fingers, the heat of his mouth that laid kisses on your skin, the way he shifted down your body with the ease of a man who had done this so many times before. He licked a trail along the slop of your breast, sucking on the plush flesh just enough to leave a faint mark, then closed his lips around one peaked nipple, letting out a soft moan at the way it filled his mouth. Your nails dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders as he flicked his tongue across the bud, and he couldn’t help but glance up at you through his half-lidded eyes–wanting to absorb every little reaction you gave.
You squirmed against him, hips lifting to follow every withdrawal of his fingers, wordlessly begging for him to go faster, to fill you again, to give everything to you. But Bob refused, keeping the measured pace, determined to unravel you completely before he satisfied himself.
He released your nipple with a soft, wet sound, then blew a cool stream of air across the slick peak, watching goosebumps rise across the soft curve of your breast, prickling your skin and tightening it. He watched them form with a smile before trailing open-mouth kisses over your sternum until he reached your other breast, licking around the sensitive tissue and nipping at it–teasing you.
When he closed his lips around the nipple he ground his hips hard into the mattress, emitting a low, muffled moan that vibrated against your skin as he sought a reprieve for the ache his erection was causing him, hoping the pressure could hold him off from cumming right then and there–knowing that his orgasm was hanging by a thread.
He added a third finger then, determined to finish you, and the stretch burned–filling you to the brink of it almost being overwhelming to your senses–before it all melted into pure heat. Your nails dragged down the length of his back, digging far more deeper than the last time, leaving raised red lines across his pale flesh that would still be visible in the morning. He grunted against your breast, sucking hard as his breath grew rougher with every thrust of his hand.
The wet sounds emitting from his fingers working inside you filled the quiet room, and your hips moved freely now, meeting the thrusts to drive him deeper, wanting his touch to fill you completely, to hit every spot that made your mind turn to jelly. Bob lifted his head just enough for you to see the gold flaring brighter through his lashes, how it was almost overtaking the oceanic blue that you were so used to. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in the fine tremors that were running through the muscles of his arms and back, and in the way he kept grinding against the mattress, with helpless little sounds escaping his throat despite his best efforts to be quiet. He squeezed his eyes shut then, hollowing his cheeks around the hardened bud against his tongue, as he worked his fingers faster, curling them on every stroke so he could hear the symphony of whines that left your mouth.
You needed more–even though everything he was doing would normally have you toppling over the edge of orgasm within minutes–and you were desperate for it, just like he evidently was.
“Bob…Oh my god–“ You whimpered, the words coming out strained from your throat, as your head tipped to the side, feeling a dizzy spell coming over you which blurred your vision to the point of only being able to see the outlines of the objects that surrounded you. Your ankles that were locked behind his back shifted, pushing the waistband of his pyjama pants until they were halfway down his ass, attempting to free him, and he moaned, pulling off your nipple harshly.
“Y/N…I’m trying to ge-get you off…I need to.” His voice was rough, almost pleading against your skin to let him focus because he knew that if he didn’t do this now you wouldn’t be prepared enough to take all of him–and that would only cause you discomfort. You ignored his words though, continuing to push the fabric lower while your hands slid into his hair, tangling through the strands. He opened his eyes, hearing how hard your heart was racing in your chest, becoming increasingly aware of the heat that was rising off your skin and intertwining with his, and how your body had grown slick with sweat. He had only seen you like this on a rare occasion, and evidently he had worked you up so much that there was nothing else he could do to put off this overwhelming drive you had for him.
“I…I know…I just–Fuck, I just need you inside me. Please.” You begged, feeling your throat tightening as if you were on the brink of crying from how desperately you needed him–from the frustration that was beginning to crest above the surface. He could see your glistening eyes, how they were filling to the brim with tears, and he couldn’t help but feel the sight sinking into his bones, though he still hesitated.
“…Are you sure?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice, keeping his eyes on you so he could catch even a potential of a second thought coming up behind your gaze–though there wasn’t any indication of such things. Your hands became restless in his hair, tugging and twirling the soft strands around your fingers, toying with them just to feel him shiver against you.
“Bob…I can’t wait any longer.” He gave a small nod, whispering something incoherent under his breath, before pressing one last kiss to the underside of your breast, and pushing himself back onto his calves. Your hands fell away, dropping down to your sides as you glanced at the thin fabric of his pyjama pants–seeing the dark, damp spots where precum had soaked through, and the heavy strain of his cock that was barely being contained within the confines it was behind, feeling your breath catching in your throat at the sight.
He withdrew his fingers from you slowly, dragging his soaked fingers over your clit before pulling them away completely, and the sudden emptiness made you wiggle your hips against the mattress. You felt insatiable–like Bob couldn’t do anything right until he slipped inside you–and your patience was almost nonexistent at this point. If your arms didn’t feel so weighed down you would’ve went for him right away, pulling at his pyjama bottoms like a sex crazed monster, just so you could feel him sooner, but you couldn’t conjure up the energy to do it, which meant you were at the helm of Bob’s mercy.
His large hands slid up your thighs until his fingers hooked beneath the waistband of your panties, drawing the soaked fabric down slowly as he lifted each of your legs in turn so he could free them completely from the confinements, before tossing the sodden cotton aside to join the abyss of discarded clothes that were scattered across the floor.
When his gold-hazed eyes returned to you they moved without focus over every bare inch of skin that was exposed to him, taking in the fine sheen of sweat that coated your chest and stomach, the restless shifting of your hips, and the way you opened your thighs wider for him so he could see how wet you were. He watched the glistening trails of arousal spilling from you, noticing a small, saturated spot on the duvet from where it had absorbed into the fabric, and his mouth couldn’t help but water at the sight.
If he hadn’t gotten you so worked up to this point he would’ve buried his face between your thighs until he wrung so many orgasms from you that you would pass out from exhaustion–just so he could soak his face in that beautiful, sweetness that you created, and bask in it with reckless abandon. But he knew if he did any of that, you would become even more flustered, and he wanted to give you everything you needed. He glanced at his fingers in those moments, noticing the slick shine that still coated his skin, and a small, private smile touched his mouth–that will just have to do.
He brought them to his lips, shoving them into his mouth so he could taste you–relishing in the one thing that he wanted to be surrounded by for the rest of his living life, that sweetness that would drive anyone crazy if they were within a mile radius, the sweetness that was the all consuming bliss that killed all his defences the minute he tasted it.
He licked your arousal off his skin slowly, letting it linger on his tongue before swiping along them again so he didn’t miss a spot, keeping his eyes on your while he did it to watch your lashes bat at him bashfully–like you were enjoying seeing how much of a hold your taste had on him. The way his cheeks had flushed under your gaze had made you smirk, seeing the colour raise in patches across his pale flesh. He was so focused, that he barely noticed your hands finding his hips to push the pyjama pants down the rest of the way, hearing him hiss when the fabric finally cleared and his cock sprang up from its confinements.
You glanced down, looking at the red, glistening tip, and the way it wept thick droplets of precum from the slit. He was so hard that you could see every vein standing out along the smooth flesh that covered the heavy length, and when you brought the tips of your fingers to the head to trace along the crown of it, you could feel the whole shaft flex against your touch, begging to be seated inside of you. He moaned around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth quickly to grab your thigh as he looked down at your hand, watching while you rubbed the weeping slit, before bringing them to your lips to taste the bitter muskiness of him, feeling another wave of heat rushing through your body while your core clenched, drawing out another gush of arousal from you.
“God, you taste so good.” You admitted, dragging your wet fingers across your lower lip so the taste would linger there, and he nodded sheepishly at the compliment.
“Likewise,” He replied, feeling your legs coming up to weave behind the backs of his thighs as he shifted forward, wrapping his hand around his cock to give it a few rough strokes before guiding the broad head to your wet heat, dragging the tip slowly through your folds, letting it nudge and press against your swollen clit to leave a trail of his precum behind.
“You sure we can’t hold this off for a few minutes so we can ta-taste each other some more?” He asked, guiding the tip back down to rest against your entrance, feeling your arousal soaking it as you shook your head and squeezed his hips, trying to pull him forward.
“We’ve got time afterwards to do that…Now please…Stop teasing me, and just fuck me already.” You muttered, canting your hips up in an attempt to take him in, noticing him pulling back just enough to keep the head at your entrance and nothing more. Then he leaned down, covering your body with his again, while he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth before resting his forehead against yours. His hand hiked your leg higher on his waist as he continued the slow, maddening drag of his cock through your entrance, trying to prolong things as much as possible.
“I’ve never seen you this impatient before,” He breathed against the corner of your mouth, “It’s extremely flattering.” You let out a sigh, sliding your arms under his so you could pull him closer.
“Well sometimes it’s impossible to wait when I have all day to think about the things you’ll do to me when I get on this bed of yours.” He hummed, tilted his head to pepper open-mouthed kissed along your jaw.
“It’s nice to know I’m always on yo-your mind.” A breathless huff of a laugh left you in those moments, one of pure disbelief.
“Don’t let it get to your head.” You remarked, feeing his lips turn up into a smile against your skin, as he lined himself up with your entrance again and settled his weight onto his knees.
“No promises.” He replied softly, before pushing his hips forward and slipping inside your tight wet heat, parting your walls with ease as he burrowed into you, feeling you stretch around him to take the full thickness of his heavy cock. The two of you let out an array of strained moans, your breaths catching with one another as he attempted to focus on keeping himself quiet while he continued to bring his hips to yours.
You could feel every muscle in your body surrendering to him–turning to jelly beneath his body–relaxing into the relief that the fullness his cock brought you, and the way it stretched you to the point where it was abundantly clear that there was a chance that he may not fit entirely.
When his hips finally met yours the two of you were absolutely breathless, as his arm came up to slide beneath your neck so he could hold you closer to him, feeling your chests rising and falling in sync with one another. He was shaking against you, taking in the way your walls spasmed around him, clenching and releasing with each breath you took, and he turned his head into your neck, pressing a kiss against your thundering pulse, hearing you let out a little grunt at the contact, and feeling your hips squirming towards him so the tip of his cock could rub against your cervix.
“Please move.” You whined, as his hot hand enveloped your shoulder and his eyes squeezed shut at the way your nails gently glided down the marks they had left on him already. He took a few moments to gather himself, trying his best not to focus on how good the warmth around his cock felt–because if he even paid it any attention he wouldn’t last long at all–and finally he shifted his hips back just an inch and thrusted in, earning a small gasp from you.
Your reaction only drove him, as he pulled back even further before sinking in again, finding a pace that satisfied the both of you and settling into it. Each time his hips met yours the impact sent a fresh pulse of heat through your core, another gush of arousal coating him as your body rose up off the duvet to take him deeper, feeling the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. His muscles tensed beneath your hands as you rubbed slow circles over his shoulders, resting your chin on the crook of his neck so you could bury your nose in his soft hair, listening to the rumbling whines that left his throat each time he pushed harder into you.
His fingers dug into your thigh, as he raised your leg higher, changing the angle so subtly that you barely noticed it until he put more pressure into his thrusts, and the crown of his cock dragged against your g-spot. A breathy moan escaped you, vibrating into his skin as he continued chasing the relentless pace he set–rutting against you with such restraint that it felt like he was going to collapse. His hot breath stuck to your flesh as he bit down on the spot just below your earlobe, letting out a throaty grunt in an attempt to muffle the noises that were leaving him, trying to keep the one rule in mind that the two of you always had–don’t make any noise that’ll notify the team of your late night encounters.
You gripped at his shoulders, clawing at the muscles, before finding his hair again and pulling him from the crevice of your neck so he could look at you. His jaw was locked tight, and even with his eyes closed you could see the gold blazing behind the lids, bright enough to show through the thin skin and showing off the small veins that were within them. He couldn’t bare to look at you, because he knew if he even made eye contact for more than a second he’d lose every ounce of control he had over himself.
“Bob…Look at me…” You whispered, and he shook his head, continuing to thrust, not being able to find words to combat the request he couldn’t meet. You could feel the tension, the heat that was burning through his veins, how his grip on your thigh tightened to the point where it was almost painful, and you knew you had to intervene. His brows pinched together, as you slid your hands to his cheeks, framing his face while you dragged your thumbs over the subtle bags beneath his eyes.
“Ca-Can’t…” He stuttered, shaking his head between your palms, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to suppress another moan that threatened to escape his mouth. You leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to the furrow between his brows, hearing the lightest whimper bleed through from him.
“Please, baby, I need you to…” You cooed, nuzzling your nose against his before pulling back to look at him once more.
“If…If I do, I won’t be able to ke-keep quiet.” He admitted through the short breaths he was taking, as you shook your head.
“Let them hear us…I don’t care. I want them to know you belong to me anyways.” You said, squeezing his waist between your thighs, pulling him in deeper so he hit your cervix again with a jagged thrust, “Do it for me, Bob…” You added, pleading with him one last time, and it was as if every dam in his mind broke in those moments, as he took in a breath and forced his eyes open to meet yours.
From this close it felt as though you were looking into twin suns–gold and molten orange swallowing the blue until almost nothing of the calm, soothing colour remained–and you could feel and feel the fire inside him burning, threatening to break out at any moment.
“Fuck, Y/N…He…He’s…” He tried to warn you, but you knew what he was going to say, and all you could do was nod.
“I know…It’s okay, Bob…You can let him in.” You reassured, dragging your palms down his cheeks to caress his jaw, “He’s still you…And I…I love you for all that you are.” You choked out as his hips drove in harder at that, his body shaking above you.
“Mmph…God I love you too…I love you so mu-much.” He whimpered, closing the space between your mouths to press a rough wet kiss against your lips, pushing your leg higher until your knee was practically touching the side of your breast. You moaned at the angle, at the way it opened you up to him completely, and your fingers dug into his face to find some sort of purchase to keep your consciousness entangled with this moment. A raw, guttural sound tore from his throat–half groan, half snarl–and you could tell he no longer cared about being quiet, taking your words as gospel written by pure lust.
His thrusts turned harder, pushing as deep as he could go to the point where they were almost punishing in their intensity, and you whined, lifting your hips to grind your clit against the soft pubic hair that was soaked with your arousal. His fingers dug into your shoulder, into your thigh, into anything he could grip as he pulled away from the sloppy kiss to look at you again.
“You’re heavenly.” He growled, “A fucking blessing from every God known to man.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at that, as your hands slid to the back of his neck, clawing at the smooth skin.
“A blessing only for me to take.” He added, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip, before grinding into you. Your core clenched around him, as your head tipped back and pressed deeply into the mattress.
“Fuck, Sen-Sentry?” You questioned, and he nodded, his arm beneath your neck flexing to bring you closer to him.
“Don’t be scared…Bob’s still here, he’s still enjoying the benefits of this perfect pussy…I’m just in the drivers seat.” He explained, as a small smirk touched the corners of his mouth, his eyes roaming over the twisted pleasure that drew across your face.
“Sh-Shit…” You moaned, feeling your legs going numb at the way he kept moving his hips faster, adjusting to find the perfect angle that would hit every erogenous zone inside you just so he could feel you clench around him, and it only pushed him into a frenzy of unfiltered hunger–like your pleasure was the main goal for him while his own was pushed aside. He took in a deep breath, inhaling your scent into his lungs like it was an aphrodisiac, and sighed.
“You’re close, I can feel it in you.” He informed, as he released your leg gently, and let it drop to the side, before making space for his hand to slip between your bodies. He was searching, trailing his fingers along your belly, all the way down until he settled just above where he was driving into you, finding your clit easily with just a swipe of his thumb. When you let out a gasp, a grumbled laugh escaped his throat.
“There it is…Is this what you need?” He asked, and immediately you nodded, sliding your hands down to grab at his shoulders again, “How about you tell me then, Sweetheart?” He teased, brushing the pad over the bud lightly, not putting enough pressure on it to make you crest over into your orgasm. You took in a shaky breath, putting all your focus onto your throat as you tried to form words.
“Pl-Please, Sentry…Ne-Need you to…” You babbled, unable to form a complete sentence, but he took that as a good attempt, gave what you needed –pressing down on the bundle of nerves and rubbing tight circles against it, matching the pace of his brutal thrusts. Your back arched up into him, a strangled moan tearing through your throat, and his smile became even wider.
“You’re so drunk on my cock you can’t even think…I see nothing going on inside your mind…I think you need to cum for me before you do any permanent damage.” He joked, peppering kisses along your face, smearing his saliva over your cheeks, “Think you can do that for me?” You nodded, cinching your eyes shut as the muscles in your thighs began to shake. There was something so primal about his approach that it had caught you off guard–and deep down you found yourself falling into a spiral of thoughts of how much more he could do apart from this.
Your hips began to twitch involuntarily, canting up to meet his thrusts and grinding against his touch, and then a sudden wave of heat rushed through your entirety, pushing you over the edge into a cavernous abyss as your vision blurred and your body tensed up beneath his. He could feel your walls clench around him, almost halting his movements completely as your orgasm hijacked his rhythm. Your arousal gushed around him, soaking his cock and dripping down his balls until it seeped into the duvet beneath you. He kept circling your clit, riding out your high, letting you coast across the euphoria clouding your mind, up until you were scratching at his back and whining from the oversensitivity.
“Too much?” He asked teasingly.
“Yeah…Yeah, a little.” You replied, feeling his thumb easing off you, as he brought his hand back to your thigh, smoothing it up your damp skin.
“Sorry, I got carried away.” He commented, noticing the tension around his cock loosening, which allowed him to continue to thrust, taking it slow this time to not overwhelm you.
“I liked it.” You whispered, and he kissed your cheek.
“I know you did.” His hips rolled harder into you, grinding his pelvis against yours, “You think you can handle a little bit more?” He questioned, feeling your hands travelling down his back.
“I want you to cum inside me…So yeah…I can take it.” He hummed at that, letting his gaze roam over your softened face, and your barely opened eyes.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He said, as he eased into the brutal pace he had laid out before, pushing your leg back up to your chest so he could get as deep as possible, watching your mouth fall open on a silent gasp, your walls contracting around him once more when his cock pressed right into your cervix. He let out a low grunt, and dug his fingers into your thigh, leaning down to enclose your mouth with his, sliding his tongue against yours to taste every essence of you. There was a ferality to these thrusts–a desperate ache to his movements–that made you realize he had been holding back before, and you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, clinging to the strained muscles of his lower back, feeling them flex under your hands each time he drove into you.
He tore his mouth from yours, feeling threads of saliva snapping against your lips as he tilted his head and kissed a wet path down your jaw, smearing moisture across your skin before finding the crook of your neck, burying his face into it to envelop himself in the salty sweetness of your scent, huffing you as he rutted harder and harder–hearing the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the room, and the squelching sound that tickled your ears every time he pulled back.
His teeth scratched against the sensitive skin, as his grunts grew louder, and his grip tightened on both your shoulder and the thigh he was holding up. The springs of the mattress began to squeak from the harsh motion of his hips meeting yours, and you could’ve sworn your body was imprinted in the duvet beneath you from the full weight of his form on yours, but you couldn’t think hard enough to care. You dug your nails into his lower back, and dragged them down to his ass, grabbing at the muscular flesh there, feeling the tension in every thrust, and suddenly he began to growl.
The low rumble of it vibrated through your body, and even when you thought it was going to end, it just grew in volume. You could feel the sweat from his temples sliding down the side of your neck as he began to lose his rhythm, and it was the one sign he gave you to tell you he was close.
“Fuck…Y/N…Jesus Christ.” He grunted, grinding into you to keep himself as deep as possible, until his teeth sank into the crook of your neck and he thrusted one last time, before spilling into you. His cum felt hotter than normal inside you as ropes of it filled you to the brim, mixing with your arousal as his cock twitched with each release. He tensed up above you like he was frozen in place, as your ears caught the sound of everything in the room grinding against the floor, including the bed which had moved a few inches. It was as if a seismic shift had flowed through the room, pushing everything out of place from the overwhelming loss of control that invaded Sentry’s mind. He wanted to try and stop it before it happened, but he was so focused on how you felt, on your warmth that wrapped around him and kept squeezing his cock, that he couldn’t hold it back even if he had attempted to.
He fucked his cum into you, feeling it gushing out around him and sticking to his skin and your thighs, yet he was still emptying himself into you with no end in sight. You were amazed by the amount that was leaving him, but you didn’t mind it one bit–you enjoyed the warmth it brought to you, how it invaded your body and dripped out of you because there wasn’t enough room for all of it.
When his muscles finally relaxed beneath your hands, he eased his teeth off your shoulder and shakily pulled back to look at you, completely breathless and shivering. The molten gold in his eyes had settled into a deep caramel colour, interweaving beneath the oceanic blue that began to return, and he let out a huff of a laugh, as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I think you almost put me into cardiac arrest.” He commented, earning a choked out giggle from you while your hands ran up his back, soothing the remaining tension in the muscles there.
“And I think you almost put me through the mattress.” You teased, feeling him let out a hot breath against your skin, as he shook his head.
“Well, this is the first time I actually got to experience this with you…So you can’t judge me for losing control.” You kissed your teeth at that, shrugging your sore shoulder at his remark.
“Not judging…Just thought I’d point it out.” He smirked, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth.
“Maybe next time I’ll levitate you, then you’ll really have something to talk about.” You let out a little laugh, tilting your head to nudge your nose against his.
“As long as you don’t throw me through a wall, I’d be open to anything.” He hummed, and just before he could respond an array of knocks at the door interrupted his train of thought.
“If you guys don’t mind, it would be much appreciated if you kept your nightly rendezvous confined to your rooms, I almost got crushed by my bed just now and I don’t want to die like that, thank you.” John’s voice boomed as both you and Sentry shared an embarrassed look with one another.
“Sorry.” The two of you said in unison, before he buried his face into your shoulder again, sighing while he listened to John’s heavy footsteps padding down the hall.
“That’s one way for them to find out about us.” You said, feeling him nod against the crook of your neck.
“You’re gonna have a long morning tomorrow…You better prepare yourself.”
Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Sentry x Fem!Reader!
Word Count: 8,184
Smuttiness below the cut! 18+ Minors DNI! (Fingering, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Sentry makes an appearance, Dirty Talk, Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up), Hyperspermia, probably more but I don’t remember)
Author’s Note: This is from the smut prompts you guys sent me and it went off the rails evidently, so I hope y’all enjoy :) This is just pure smut with no plot which is shocking but yeah, I was in a mood lol.
You had found yourself in Bob’s bedroom for the fourth time that week, intertwined with him while the two of you were in another one of your breathless battles that neither of you ever surrendered to.
There was no gentle beginning to it. No lingering conversation or careful negation of who would lead and who would follow. The question was always answered through your touches–through the impatient gripping of hands on hips, fingers clawing and scratching the skin beneath your clothes, with mouths colliding hard enough to leave your lips tender, raw and wet afterward. It was decided in every shove and answering pull, in the gasps and quick breaths when one of you managed to gain an advantage–no matter how temporary it may have been.
Tonight, Bob had swung open the door before you even managed to knock with an expression that was almost deceptively mild, even though his heart had been galloping for the past hour as he paced his bedroom and listened for your specific soft footsteps that would pad down the hall when things in the Watchtower got quiet enough.
His hair had still been damp from the shower he took after training, his light-brown strands falling in loose waves around his face and curling slightly against the back of his neck where they were still drying–distinctly darker from the water that still remained there. He wore a faded navy t-shirt that was spotted with barely noticeable droplets, and a pair of thin plaid pyjama pants to compensate for his temperature. It made him look casual–domestic even–so much so that anyone else might have mistaken him for a harmless man who didn’t harness any power apart from being a nice, down to Earth person.
But you had known better–everyone did.
The door had barely clicked shut behind you before his hands were on your waist, pulling you towards him and digging firmly into your hips, making sure your body was flush against him. His mouth descended on yours just as you opened it to speak, and the kiss he gave you contradicted every meek glance he had given you throughout the evening–every moment he had looked away too quickly whenever your eyes met across the common room.
His teeth caught your lower lip, biting down just hard enough to make your breath hitch, and he swallowed that sound as his head tilted to deepen the kiss before either of you could steal enough air to form clear thoughts. Your arms weaved around his neck and your fingers found the damp strands of hair at the nape, feeling the wetness sinking into the pads of them as you tugged, earning a small groan from Bob. His grip contracted around your hips, gathering the fabric of your shirt in his fists, pressing harder against you, and the thin cotton of his pyjama pants did little to hide how thoroughly the simple tug had affected him–feeling the semi-hardness of his length pressing into your belly.
He began moving you backward through the room, guiding you toward his bed without ever fully lifting his mouth from yours. Every step he took forward forced one from you in return, and he kept you steady whenever you stumbled, making sure your movements never faltered. You opened your mouth to him when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, letting the kiss turn wet and uncoordinated as your tongues met sloppily. His breath grew uneven, spilling hot across your skin whenever an awkward angle forced your mouths apart, but neither of you seemed capable of tolerating the separation. Because each time you broke away, Bob followed.
His nose brushed yours, his mouth finding the corner of your lips, then your jaw, giving you a moment to catch your breath, before returning to your mouth with renewed insistence. He kissed you with the hunger of someone who had spent lifetimes denying himself of even the smallest touch, despite the fact that it had been less than twenty-four hours since he had last held you in this exact room, and you relished in the fact that he wanted you so badly that he could barely control himself.
When the backs of your knees struck the soft edge of the mattress you fell down onto it and Bob followed you without hesitation–not wanting the kiss to break–his body hunching as he put his knee between yours so your legs could come up to frame his hips, feeling your ankles locking behind his lower back, urging him to climb on with you. He pushed your body up the mattress by your hips, messing up the uniformity of his duvet in the process, and when he was satisfied with the space he created, he joined you.
The bed dipped beneath your combined weight, its springs giving a quiet protest as he settled between your thighs and moved one of his hands from your hip to brace beside your head so he wouldn’t crush you completely beneath him. It was a thoughtful gesture, something that he never failed to miss because he knew that while he looked meek, beneath all his clothes he had the body of a god–and the power of one to boot.
He didn’t want to risk hurting you in any way, especially when there was always the fragile line the two of you toed when it came to these fleeting moments of intimacy. He thankfully never lost control, but it didn’t mean that he never felt Sentry trying to break through the surface any time you touched him, or kissed him, or moaned quietly in his ear when he was inside you–when you were trying to keep the rest of the Watchtower from hearing the desperate noises that escaped either of you–or when he would cum inside you and bite your shoulder to muffle his grunts and the wave of power that coursed through his veins like an inferno that couldn’t be put out. Even through the struggle though, he still managed to push Sentry down, just so he could keep these moments exclusively between the two of you.
His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, palm gliding over the soft bare skin of your waist. The heat of him was searing against yours as he ran his thumb slowly along the curve of your stomach before finding the lace trim of your underwear–tracing it without dipping beneath the material. The denial of his touch felt deliberate, and just as you raised your hips to attempt to seek some sort of friction Bob pressed his hips firmly between your thighs to hold you still–pinning you down on the mattress to keep you from squirming. His rough thumb skimmed the lace again, hearing you whine against his mouth at the teasing, as your stomach clenched at the burning urge to fight against the weight he had on your body.
You pulled the hair at the nape of his neck again, dragging your nails along his scalp in an attempt to even out the score, hearing a strained, involuntary moan breaking his throat and vibrating through your mouth, as his body tensed above you, and his hand tightened hard enough on your hip to promise faint bruises along your skin by the morning. It was a fracture in his composure, and you smiled into the kiss, satisfied that you had such control over him.
When his grip loosened, you took advantage of the opening by lifting your hips towards his, dragging the damp heat of your clothed core along the hard length of his erection that was trapped behind the thin fabric his pyjama pants, feeling the way it twitched at the contact–at the grind that made everything in his mind jumble into one conjoined thought.
Bob tore his mouth away from the kiss quickly, cinching his eyes shut as his jaw locked so abruptly that the muscles jumped beneath the skin. You did it again, slower this time, letting the pressure build, feeling his fingers flexing and digging into your flesh, trying to keep you from moving, but there was no use, you already seized what little power you had, and you were going to ride it out until he forced you to stop.
“Do-Don’t,” He warned, though the word lacked any authority when his body pushed down to meet you–like he was magnetized to the warmth that was seeping through the barriers between your pelvis’. You gave him another kiss, smiling against his mouth.
“Don’t what?” You asked innocently, conjuring him to open his eyes. His pupils had nearly consumed the blue of his irises whole, but something warmer, shimmered at their edges–a diffused haze of gold that surfaced and disappeared with each uneven breath he took. Unfocused, and completely consumed with lust.
“You know what.” He shot back, feeling your fingers sliding deeper into his hair to give another lazy pull to the strands. His shoulders trembled, and his breathing turned shallow before another sound escaped him. A small crease between his eyebrows began to form–the same one that appeared when the pleasure became too overwhelming for him to conceal. The tilt of his head gave you easy access to the line of his throat, and you leaned up and pressed your open mouth against the warm skin beneath his jaw, tasting the clean saltiness of his sweat, and the faint residual soap from the shower. He let out a shaky sigh, a helpless one, almost like he was slowly giving into you and turning pliant beneath your lips
“You’re making me lo-lose it, Y/N…” He confessed, as your tongue dragged along the stubble, leaving a trail of saliva that sank into his flesh. You loosened your fingers from his hair bringing your free hand up to push the damp strands away from his face, noticing his lashes fluttering at the tenderness of your touch.
“I don’t have to make you do anything…You were already losing it when you were pacing around this room waiting for me.” You whispered, your breath cooling the trail of saliva you left, feeling him shudder again while you pulled back to look up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes, tempting him to take the bait you had laid out–hoping that he would fall for it.
He stared at you for half a breath, and before he could even think he kissed you hard enough to force your head deeper into the duvet, devouring the words right out of your mouth. His breathing had gone ragged, and finally, the hand that had been tracing the lace of your underwear slipped beneath the material.
His fingers met the slick heat of you and a broken moan tore from your throat, as he drank it down and relished in the way he was able to turn the tables so efficiently. A smug curve touched the corner of his mouth, sliding two fingertips through your folds to gather your arousal on them before circling your entrance, feeling the pulsing heat that begged to be filled by him. You wanted to press down towards his touch–to force his fingers into you because you were so desperate to feel something–but just as you were about to, he trailed his soaked fingers up to your clit and pressed firmly on the swollen bundle of nerves.
The sparks that ignited up your spine was immediate–like you had been touched by something electric–and your hips jerked up into his hand, craving the friction that it provided. He held you down with the weight of his body, keeping you locked in place, as he found a steady circular rhythm–making sure his touch was firm enough to keep you in this desperate state, and patient enough to make you want more.
He pulled away from the kiss and tallied your reactions through his half-lidded eyes, watching as your lashes fluttered, and how your swollen lips parted on laboured breaths, and the way your brows pinched when he angled his fingers just right to rub a tighter circle along the uncovered nerves. He could hear the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and how the heat of your body had raised just enough to start forming a line of sweat along your hairline–and instantly he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.
Your hands dragged down the front of his shirt–scratching against the cotton in a silent plea to feel him, to bask in the warmth of his skin, to relish in his body. He knew the natural progression of your desperation–how you would squirm and pull and tug at him until he gave you what you needed–and instantly he sat back just enough to remove his hand from your underwear to yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside, exposing the broad, powerful lines of his chest and abs to you, showing off the uneven flush that had crept across his body.
Your eyes moved over him freely, cataloguing every shift of muscle beneath his skin, watching the way his abdomen tightened with each uneven breath, and the faint sheen of sweat that was beading and gathering in the defined grooves of his chest. Usually Bob would have found a way to fold himself back against you, to hide from your silent, praiseful gaze, but seeing the pure want in your expression seemed to have froze him in his spot above you.
Your hands came up to settle on his waist, as your fingertips traced the scattered freckles there, before sliding higher to let your nails lightly score the warm flank of his back, feeling goosebumps raising under the touch. A mischievous smile pulled at your mouth, your teeth catching your lower lip as you brought one hand across the hard plane of his stomach, taking in every subtle twitch the muscles elicited while you followed the natural ridges of them, pulling a low sound from his throat.
Bob pushed your shirt upward, his palms spreading hot against your belly until they settled just beneath your breasts.
“Should ta-take this off,” He murmured, as a shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. You sat up just enough to strip the shirt over your head quickly, sending it to the floor to join his with a careless throw, and just as your skin met the warmth of the bedroom you hooked your arms under his and pulled him down towards you, needing to be crushed by the full weight of him, and to feel the solid heat of his chest against your breasts. He gave a breathless, startled laugh as he settled over you, blanketing your body completely with his while he adjusted to make sure he could hold himself up just enough so you could breathe–putting more weight on his lower half to compensate for the position.
His mouth found the side of your throat immediately, parting wide so he could place wet kisses over the skin before licking your pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath his tongue. It was a joy to realize how worked up he made you just through simple little touches–and how easy it was to shut off the part of you that always wanted to be in control. A thought crossed his mind about how it would be if he ever did the same–how the entire room would probably be left in a state of disaster by the time he was done–and he couldn’t help but shiver in fear. He was already playing with fire by giving Sentry just a hint of the experience he got with you–by allowing him to look through his eyes, and locking him in as an observer. The temptation to just let it all go was hanging in the midst of the sounds you were making–those breathy little whimpers that always seemed to escape you no matter how much you tried to suppress them–though he pushed it all down to focus on you.
His hand slipped back down between your legs, bypassing the waistband of your underwear once more, only this time two thick fingers pressed inside you in one smooth stroke. You were already so wet that your body took them in easily–fully prepared for the intrusion–but the stretch it provided was still enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Your back arched off the mattress, pulling him deeper, pressing your chest against his, and he breathed out a sigh as your walls fluttered and clenched around him. His fingers curled, searching with careful strokes until they found the soft rigid spot that made your thighs lock around his hips and your ankles dig deeper into his back.
“Fuck–Bob–“ You choked out, as you tipped your head further back into the duvet, giving him more access to your throat, needing to feel his lips everywhere. He took the invitation, peppering kisses lower along the column of it, grazing his teeth over the thin skin at the base of your neck while his fingers set a steady rhythm–slow, thorough thrusts that filled you again and again without fail, while he continuously curled his fingers to add to the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you. His thumb found your clit, covering it completely, and he began to circle it in the same unhurried cadence he had done before, never quite giving you enough pressure to tip over the edge, only enough to keep the tension coiling tighter in your belly. You could feel your muscles tightening as your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding onto the only tangible thing that was keeping you tethered to your conscious state.
You bit back a whine that was aching to tear itself from your throat, focusing on the wet slide of his fingers, the heat of his mouth that laid kisses on your skin, the way he shifted down your body with the ease of a man who had done this so many times before. He licked a trail along the slop of your breast, sucking on the plush flesh just enough to leave a faint mark, then closed his lips around one peaked nipple, letting out a soft moan at the way it filled his mouth. Your nails dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders as he flicked his tongue across the bud, and he couldn’t help but glance up at you through his half-lidded eyes–wanting to absorb every little reaction you gave.
You squirmed against him, hips lifting to follow every withdrawal of his fingers, wordlessly begging for him to go faster, to fill you again, to give everything to you. But Bob refused, keeping the measured pace, determined to unravel you completely before he satisfied himself.
He released your nipple with a soft, wet sound, then blew a cool stream of air across the slick peak, watching goosebumps rise across the soft curve of your breast, prickling your skin and tightening it. He watched them form with a smile before trailing open-mouth kisses over your sternum until he reached your other breast, licking around the sensitive tissue and nipping at it–teasing you.
When he closed his lips around the nipple he ground his hips hard into the mattress, emitting a low, muffled moan that vibrated against your skin as he sought a reprieve for the ache his erection was causing him, hoping the pressure could hold him off from cumming right then and there–knowing that his orgasm was hanging by a thread.
He added a third finger then, determined to finish you, and the stretch burned–filling you to the brink of it almost being overwhelming to your senses–before it all melted into pure heat. Your nails dragged down the length of his back, digging far more deeper than the last time, leaving raised red lines across his pale flesh that would still be visible in the morning. He grunted against your breast, sucking hard as his breath grew rougher with every thrust of his hand.
The wet sounds emitting from his fingers working inside you filled the quiet room, and your hips moved freely now, meeting the thrusts to drive him deeper, wanting his touch to fill you completely, to hit every spot that made your mind turn to jelly. Bob lifted his head just enough for you to see the gold flaring brighter through his lashes, how it was almost overtaking the oceanic blue that you were so used to. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in the fine tremors that were running through the muscles of his arms and back, and in the way he kept grinding against the mattress, with helpless little sounds escaping his throat despite his best efforts to be quiet. He squeezed his eyes shut then, hollowing his cheeks around the hardened bud against his tongue, as he worked his fingers faster, curling them on every stroke so he could hear the symphony of whines that left your mouth.
You needed more–even though everything he was doing would normally have you toppling over the edge of orgasm within minutes–and you were desperate for it, just like he evidently was.
“Bob…Oh my god–“ You whimpered, the words coming out strained from your throat, as your head tipped to the side, feeling a dizzy spell coming over you which blurred your vision to the point of only being able to see the outlines of the objects that surrounded you. Your ankles that were locked behind his back shifted, pushing the waistband of his pyjama pants until they were halfway down his ass, attempting to free him, and he moaned, pulling off your nipple harshly.
“Y/N…I’m trying to ge-get you off…I need to.” His voice was rough, almost pleading against your skin to let him focus because he knew that if he didn’t do this now you wouldn’t be prepared enough to take all of him–and that would only cause you discomfort. You ignored his words though, continuing to push the fabric lower while your hands slid into his hair, tangling through the strands. He opened his eyes, hearing how hard your heart was racing in your chest, becoming increasingly aware of the heat that was rising off your skin and intertwining with his, and how your body had grown slick with sweat. He had only seen you like this on a rare occasion, and evidently he had worked you up so much that there was nothing else he could do to put off this overwhelming drive you had for him.
“I…I know…I just–Fuck, I just need you inside me. Please.” You begged, feeling your throat tightening as if you were on the brink of crying from how desperately you needed him–from the frustration that was beginning to crest above the surface. He could see your glistening eyes, how they were filling to the brim with tears, and he couldn’t help but feel the sight sinking into his bones, though he still hesitated.
“…Are you sure?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice, keeping his eyes on you so he could catch even a potential of a second thought coming up behind your gaze–though there wasn’t any indication of such things. Your hands became restless in his hair, tugging and twirling the soft strands around your fingers, toying with them just to feel him shiver against you.
“Bob…I can’t wait any longer.” He gave a small nod, whispering something incoherent under his breath, before pressing one last kiss to the underside of your breast, and pushing himself back onto his calves. Your hands fell away, dropping down to your sides as you glanced at the thin fabric of his pyjama pants–seeing the dark, damp spots where precum had soaked through, and the heavy strain of his cock that was barely being contained within the confines it was behind, feeling your breath catching in your throat at the sight.
He withdrew his fingers from you slowly, dragging his soaked fingers over your clit before pulling them away completely, and the sudden emptiness made you wiggle your hips against the mattress. You felt insatiable–like Bob couldn’t do anything right until he slipped inside you–and your patience was almost nonexistent at this point. If your arms didn’t feel so weighed down you would’ve went for him right away, pulling at his pyjama bottoms like a sex crazed monster, just so you could feel him sooner, but you couldn’t conjure up the energy to do it, which meant you were at the helm of Bob’s mercy.
His large hands slid up your thighs until his fingers hooked beneath the waistband of your panties, drawing the soaked fabric down slowly as he lifted each of your legs in turn so he could free them completely from the confinements, before tossing the sodden cotton aside to join the abyss of discarded clothes that were scattered across the floor.
When his gold-hazed eyes returned to you they moved without focus over every bare inch of skin that was exposed to him, taking in the fine sheen of sweat that coated your chest and stomach, the restless shifting of your hips, and the way you opened your thighs wider for him so he could see how wet you were. He watched the glistening trails of arousal spilling from you, noticing a small, saturated spot on the duvet from where it had absorbed into the fabric, and his mouth couldn’t help but water at the sight.
If he hadn’t gotten you so worked up to this point he would’ve buried his face between your thighs until he wrung so many orgasms from you that you would pass out from exhaustion–just so he could soak his face in that beautiful, sweetness that you created, and bask in it with reckless abandon. But he knew if he did any of that, you would become even more flustered, and he wanted to give you everything you needed. He glanced at his fingers in those moments, noticing the slick shine that still coated his skin, and a small, private smile touched his mouth–that will just have to do.
He brought them to his lips, shoving them into his mouth so he could taste you–relishing in the one thing that he wanted to be surrounded by for the rest of his living life, that sweetness that would drive anyone crazy if they were within a mile radius, the sweetness that was the all consuming bliss that killed all his defences the minute he tasted it.
He licked your arousal off his skin slowly, letting it linger on his tongue before swiping along them again so he didn’t miss a spot, keeping his eyes on your while he did it to watch your lashes bat at him bashfully–like you were enjoying seeing how much of a hold your taste had on him. The way his cheeks had flushed under your gaze had made you smirk, seeing the colour raise in patches across his pale flesh. He was so focused, that he barely noticed your hands finding his hips to push the pyjama pants down the rest of the way, hearing him hiss when the fabric finally cleared and his cock sprang up from its confinements.
You glanced down, looking at the red, glistening tip, and the way it wept thick droplets of precum from the slit. He was so hard that you could see every vein standing out along the smooth flesh that covered the heavy length, and when you brought the tips of your fingers to the head to trace along the crown of it, you could feel the whole shaft flex against your touch, begging to be seated inside of you. He moaned around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth quickly to grab your thigh as he looked down at your hand, watching while you rubbed the weeping slit, before bringing them to your lips to taste the bitter muskiness of him, feeling another wave of heat rushing through your body while your core clenched, drawing out another gush of arousal from you.
“God, you taste so good.” You admitted, dragging your wet fingers across your lower lip so the taste would linger there, and he nodded sheepishly at the compliment.
“Likewise,” He replied, feeling your legs coming up to weave behind the backs of his thighs as he shifted forward, wrapping his hand around his cock to give it a few rough strokes before guiding the broad head to your wet heat, dragging the tip slowly through your folds, letting it nudge and press against your swollen clit to leave a trail of his precum behind.
“You sure we can’t hold this off for a few minutes so we can ta-taste each other some more?” He asked, guiding the tip back down to rest against your entrance, feeling your arousal soaking it as you shook your head and squeezed his hips, trying to pull him forward.
“We’ve got time afterwards to do that…Now please…Stop teasing me, and just fuck me already.” You muttered, canting your hips up in an attempt to take him in, noticing him pulling back just enough to keep the head at your entrance and nothing more. Then he leaned down, covering your body with his again, while he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth before resting his forehead against yours. His hand hiked your leg higher on his waist as he continued the slow, maddening drag of his cock through your entrance, trying to prolong things as much as possible.
“I’ve never seen you this impatient before,” He breathed against the corner of your mouth, “It’s extremely flattering.” You let out a sigh, sliding your arms under his so you could pull him closer.
“Well sometimes it’s impossible to wait when I have all day to think about the things you’ll do to me when I get on this bed of yours.” He hummed, tilted his head to pepper open-mouthed kissed along your jaw.
“It’s nice to know I’m always on yo-your mind.” A breathless huff of a laugh left you in those moments, one of pure disbelief.
“Don’t let it get to your head.” You remarked, feeing his lips turn up into a smile against your skin, as he lined himself up with your entrance again and settled his weight onto his knees.
“No promises.” He replied softly, before pushing his hips forward and slipping inside your tight wet heat, parting your walls with ease as he burrowed into you, feeling you stretch around him to take the full thickness of his heavy cock. The two of you let out an array of strained moans, your breaths catching with one another as he attempted to focus on keeping himself quiet while he continued to bring his hips to yours.
You could feel every muscle in your body surrendering to him–turning to jelly beneath his body–relaxing into the relief that the fullness his cock brought you, and the way it stretched you to the point where it was abundantly clear that there was a chance that he may not fit entirely.
When his hips finally met yours the two of you were absolutely breathless, as his arm came up to slide beneath your neck so he could hold you closer to him, feeling your chests rising and falling in sync with one another. He was shaking against you, taking in the way your walls spasmed around him, clenching and releasing with each breath you took, and he turned his head into your neck, pressing a kiss against your thundering pulse, hearing you let out a little grunt at the contact, and feeling your hips squirming towards him so the tip of his cock could rub against your cervix.
“Please move.” You whined, as his hot hand enveloped your shoulder and his eyes squeezed shut at the way your nails gently glided down the marks they had left on him already. He took a few moments to gather himself, trying his best not to focus on how good the warmth around his cock felt–because if he even paid it any attention he wouldn’t last long at all–and finally he shifted his hips back just an inch and thrusted in, earning a small gasp from you.
Your reaction only drove him, as he pulled back even further before sinking in again, finding a pace that satisfied the both of you and settling into it. Each time his hips met yours the impact sent a fresh pulse of heat through your core, another gush of arousal coating him as your body rose up off the duvet to take him deeper, feeling the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. His muscles tensed beneath your hands as you rubbed slow circles over his shoulders, resting your chin on the crook of his neck so you could bury your nose in his soft hair, listening to the rumbling whines that left his throat each time he pushed harder into you.
His fingers dug into your thigh, as he raised your leg higher, changing the angle so subtly that you barely noticed it until he put more pressure into his thrusts, and the crown of his cock dragged against your g-spot. A breathy moan escaped you, vibrating into his skin as he continued chasing the relentless pace he set–rutting against you with such restraint that it felt like he was going to collapse. His hot breath stuck to your flesh as he bit down on the spot just below your earlobe, letting out a throaty grunt in an attempt to muffle the noises that were leaving him, trying to keep the one rule in mind that the two of you always had–don’t make any noise that’ll notify the team of your late night encounters.
You gripped at his shoulders, clawing at the muscles, before finding his hair again and pulling him from the crevice of your neck so he could look at you. His jaw was locked tight, and even with his eyes closed you could see the gold blazing behind the lids, bright enough to show through the thin skin and showing off the small veins that were within them. He couldn’t bare to look at you, because he knew if he even made eye contact for more than a second he’d lose every ounce of control he had over himself.
“Bob…Look at me…” You whispered, and he shook his head, continuing to thrust, not being able to find words to combat the request he couldn’t meet. You could feel the tension, the heat that was burning through his veins, how his grip on your thigh tightened to the point where it was almost painful, and you knew you had to intervene. His brows pinched together, as you slid your hands to his cheeks, framing his face while you dragged your thumbs over the subtle bags beneath his eyes.
“Ca-Can’t…” He stuttered, shaking his head between your palms, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to suppress another moan that threatened to escape his mouth. You leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to the furrow between his brows, hearing the lightest whimper bleed through from him.
“Please, baby, I need you to…” You cooed, nuzzling your nose against his before pulling back to look at him once more.
“If…If I do, I won’t be able to ke-keep quiet.” He admitted through the short breaths he was taking, as you shook your head.
“Let them hear us…I don’t care. I want them to know you belong to me anyways.” You said, squeezing his waist between your thighs, pulling him in deeper so he hit your cervix again with a jagged thrust, “Do it for me, Bob…” You added, pleading with him one last time, and it was as if every dam in his mind broke in those moments, as he took in a breath and forced his eyes open to meet yours.
From this close it felt as though you were looking into twin suns–gold and molten orange swallowing the blue until almost nothing of the calm, soothing colour remained–and you could feel and feel the fire inside him burning, threatening to break out at any moment.
“Fuck, Y/N…He…He’s…” He tried to warn you, but you knew what he was going to say, and all you could do was nod.
“I know…It’s okay, Bob…You can let him in.” You reassured, dragging your palms down his cheeks to caress his jaw, “He’s still you…And I…I love you for all that you are.” You choked out as his hips drove in harder at that, his body shaking above you.
“Mmph…God I love you too…I love you so mu-much.” He whimpered, closing the space between your mouths to press a rough wet kiss against your lips, pushing your leg higher until your knee was practically touching the side of your breast. You moaned at the angle, at the way it opened you up to him completely, and your fingers dug into his face to find some sort of purchase to keep your consciousness entangled with this moment. A raw, guttural sound tore from his throat–half groan, half snarl–and you could tell he no longer cared about being quiet, taking your words as gospel written by pure lust.
His thrusts turned harder, pushing as deep as he could go to the point where they were almost punishing in their intensity, and you whined, lifting your hips to grind your clit against the soft pubic hair that was soaked with your arousal. His fingers dug into your shoulder, into your thigh, into anything he could grip as he pulled away from the sloppy kiss to look at you again.
“You’re heavenly.” He growled, “A fucking blessing from every God known to man.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at that, as your hands slid to the back of his neck, clawing at the smooth skin.
“A blessing only for me to take.” He added, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip, before grinding into you. Your core clenched around him, as your head tipped back and pressed deeply into the mattress.
“Fuck, Sen-Sentry?” You questioned, and he nodded, his arm beneath your neck flexing to bring you closer to him.
“Don’t be scared…Bob’s still here, he’s still enjoying the benefits of this perfect pussy…I’m just in the drivers seat.” He explained, as a small smirk touched the corners of his mouth, his eyes roaming over the twisted pleasure that drew across your face.
“Sh-Shit…” You moaned, feeling your legs going numb at the way he kept moving his hips faster, adjusting to find the perfect angle that would hit every erogenous zone inside you just so he could feel you clench around him, and it only pushed him into a frenzy of unfiltered hunger–like your pleasure was the main goal for him while his own was pushed aside. He took in a deep breath, inhaling your scent into his lungs like it was an aphrodisiac, and sighed.
“You’re close, I can feel it in you.” He informed, as he released your leg gently, and let it drop to the side, before making space for his hand to slip between your bodies. He was searching, trailing his fingers along your belly, all the way down until he settled just above where he was driving into you, finding your clit easily with just a swipe of his thumb. When you let out a gasp, a grumbled laugh escaped his throat.
“There it is…Is this what you need?” He asked, and immediately you nodded, sliding your hands down to grab at his shoulders again, “How about you tell me then, Sweetheart?” He teased, brushing the pad over the bud lightly, not putting enough pressure on it to make you crest over into your orgasm. You took in a shaky breath, putting all your focus onto your throat as you tried to form words.
“Pl-Please, Sentry…Ne-Need you to…” You babbled, unable to form a complete sentence, but he took that as a good attempt, gave what you needed –pressing down on the bundle of nerves and rubbing tight circles against it, matching the pace of his brutal thrusts. Your back arched up into him, a strangled moan tearing through your throat, and his smile became even wider.
“You’re so drunk on my cock you can’t even think…I see nothing going on inside your mind…I think you need to cum for me before you do any permanent damage.” He joked, peppering kisses along your face, smearing his saliva over your cheeks, “Think you can do that for me?” You nodded, cinching your eyes shut as the muscles in your thighs began to shake. There was something so primal about his approach that it had caught you off guard–and deep down you found yourself falling into a spiral of thoughts of how much more he could do apart from this.
Your hips began to twitch involuntarily, canting up to meet his thrusts and grinding against his touch, and then a sudden wave of heat rushed through your entirety, pushing you over the edge into a cavernous abyss as your vision blurred and your body tensed up beneath his. He could feel your walls clench around him, almost halting his movements completely as your orgasm hijacked his rhythm. Your arousal gushed around him, soaking his cock and dripping down his balls until it seeped into the duvet beneath you. He kept circling your clit, riding out your high, letting you coast across the euphoria clouding your mind, up until you were scratching at his back and whining from the oversensitivity.
“Too much?” He asked teasingly.
“Yeah…Yeah, a little.” You replied, feeling his thumb easing off you, as he brought his hand back to your thigh, smoothing it up your damp skin.
“Sorry, I got carried away.” He commented, noticing the tension around his cock loosening, which allowed him to continue to thrust, taking it slow this time to not overwhelm you.
“I liked it.” You whispered, and he kissed your cheek.
“I know you did.” His hips rolled harder into you, grinding his pelvis against yours, “You think you can handle a little bit more?” He questioned, feeling your hands travelling down his back.
“I want you to cum inside me…So yeah…I can take it.” He hummed at that, letting his gaze roam over your softened face, and your barely opened eyes.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He said, as he eased into the brutal pace he had laid out before, pushing your leg back up to your chest so he could get as deep as possible, watching your mouth fall open on a silent gasp, your walls contracting around him once more when his cock pressed right into your cervix. He let out a low grunt, and dug his fingers into your thigh, leaning down to enclose your mouth with his, sliding his tongue against yours to taste every essence of you. There was a ferality to these thrusts–a desperate ache to his movements–that made you realize he had been holding back before, and you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, clinging to the strained muscles of his lower back, feeling them flex under your hands each time he drove into you.
He tore his mouth from yours, feeling threads of saliva snapping against your lips as he tilted his head and kissed a wet path down your jaw, smearing moisture across your skin before finding the crook of your neck, burying his face into it to envelop himself in the salty sweetness of your scent, huffing you as he rutted harder and harder–hearing the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the room, and the squelching sound that tickled your ears every time he pulled back.
His teeth scratched against the sensitive skin, as his grunts grew louder, and his grip tightened on both your shoulder and the thigh he was holding up. The springs of the mattress began to squeak from the harsh motion of his hips meeting yours, and you could’ve sworn your body was imprinted in the duvet beneath you from the full weight of his form on yours, but you couldn’t think hard enough to care. You dug your nails into his lower back, and dragged them down to his ass, grabbing at the muscular flesh there, feeling the tension in every thrust, and suddenly he began to growl.
The low rumble of it vibrated through your body, and even when you thought it was going to end, it just grew in volume. You could feel the sweat from his temples sliding down the side of your neck as he began to lose his rhythm, and it was the one sign he gave you to tell you he was close.
“Fuck…Y/N…Jesus Christ.” He grunted, grinding into you to keep himself as deep as possible, until his teeth sank into the crook of your neck and he thrusted one last time, before spilling into you. His cum felt hotter than normal inside you as ropes of it filled you to the brim, mixing with your arousal as his cock twitched with each release. He tensed up above you like he was frozen in place, as your ears caught the sound of everything in the room grinding against the floor, including the bed which had moved a few inches. It was as if a seismic shift had flowed through the room, pushing everything out of place from the overwhelming loss of control that invaded Sentry’s mind. He wanted to try and stop it before it happened, but he was so focused on how you felt, on your warmth that wrapped around him and kept squeezing his cock, that he couldn’t hold it back even if he had attempted to.
He fucked his cum into you, feeling it gushing out around him and sticking to his skin and your thighs, yet he was still emptying himself into you with no end in sight. You were amazed by the amount that was leaving him, but you didn’t mind it one bit–you enjoyed the warmth it brought to you, how it invaded your body and dripped out of you because there wasn’t enough room for all of it.
When his muscles finally relaxed beneath your hands, he eased his teeth off your shoulder and shakily pulled back to look at you, completely breathless and shivering. The molten gold in his eyes had settled into a deep caramel colour, interweaving beneath the oceanic blue that began to return, and he let out a huff of a laugh, as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I think you almost put me into cardiac arrest.” He commented, earning a choked out giggle from you while your hands ran up his back, soothing the remaining tension in the muscles there.
“And I think you almost put me through the mattress.” You teased, feeling him let out a hot breath against your skin, as he shook his head.
“Well, this is the first time I actually got to experience this with you…So you can’t judge me for losing control.” You kissed your teeth at that, shrugging your sore shoulder at his remark.
“Not judging…Just thought I’d point it out.” He smirked, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth.
“Maybe next time I’ll levitate you, then you’ll really have something to talk about.” You let out a little laugh, tilting your head to nudge your nose against his.
“As long as you don’t throw me through a wall, I’d be open to anything.” He hummed, and just before he could respond an array of knocks at the door interrupted his train of thought.
“If you guys don’t mind, it would be much appreciated if you kept your nightly rendezvous confined to your rooms, I almost got crushed by my bed just now and I don’t want to die like that, thank you.” John’s voice boomed as both you and Sentry shared an embarrassed look with one another.
“Sorry.” The two of you said in unison, before he buried his face into your shoulder again, sighing while he listened to John’s heavy footsteps padding down the hall.
“That’s one way for them to find out about us.” You said, feeling him nod against the crook of your neck.
“You’re gonna have a long morning tomorrow…You better prepare yourself.”
Summary: After one too many drinks, you drunkenly confess your feelings to Bob. The next morning smut ensues. That it guys, thats the plot.
Warnings: Porn with some plot, Smut, explicit sexual content, kissing, physical intimacy, alcohol consumption, drunkenness , dirty thoughts, consensual sexual activity, drunken confessions, no use of y/n, penetration (p in v), Bob being adorable.
Word count: 3.7K
You weren’t drunk.
Okay, maybe a little bit.
Maybe one glass too many. But hey, that’s okay, because your brain still seemed to be functioning just fine. Unfortunately, the only thought currently echoing inside your head was: dick, dick, dick.
So yeah. Maybe one too many.
In your defense, Bob looked really fucking good tonight. The fucking jeans were teasing you, messing with your brain and begging you to let the crush you’d been harboring for the man for ages slip from your not-so-sober lips.
It hadn’t yet. But the night was still quite young. And you were feeling very comfortable in your skin.
You sat on a stool, sipping on the fifth… wait, no, sixth. Was it the sixth? Whatever. You sipped a beer, watching the crew play pool. You were normally very good, but you were sitting this game out. You weren’t sure you’d be able to keep your balance well enough to score a shot. And you weren’t the type that played not to win.
Your eyes slipped from the pool table to a far more interesting sight.
Bob Floyd’s ass.
It wasn’t your fault that he’d literally placed himself in your line of sight. You barely had to move your head. His ass was just on display for you. You knew it wasn’t intentional—of course you knew that. He was lining up a shot that just happened to be right in front of you.
But you weren’t one to waste the universe’s gifts.
So you let your eyes latch onto Bob Floyd’s perfectly round ass. It was probably obvious to anyone who looked at you that you were staring. Luckily, no one was paying attention to you at the moment.
Well, almost no one.
You heard a soft snicker beside you, head turning slightly toward the sound. Phoenix watched you, a small smirk on her face. She knew all about your major crush on Bob. She had the unfortunate role of being the friend who had to listen as you gushed over the pilot every chance you got. But Phoenix was a good friend, and she knew to stay out of other people’s business.
That did not mean she wouldn’t tease you when the opportunity presented itself.
“You alright there?”
The rest of the crew’s heads turned toward you. Everyone’s gaze had shifted—including Bob’s.
You felt the blush that suddenly coated your cheeks. You could feel Bob’s eyes on you, but yours stayed glued to Phoenix. She just gave you a sly smile, knowing damn well what she’d just done. You were going to make her pay for that one day.
“I’m fine.”
It came out a bit slurred. A bit too high-pitched.
Someone laughed.
You didn’t pay them any mind, gaze still glued to Phoenix as you gave her a small grimace of a look.
And then you felt something warm on your shoulder.
Your head turned to look at what it was. Your eyes trailed up the hand currently resting on your shoulder, searching for its owner.
Your breath nearly gave out when you were greeted by the sight of Bob. His face was full of barely restrained concern, glasses slightly slipping off his nose as he stared at you with kind eyes.
“Hey.”
The word slipped from your lips before you could stop it.
Bob gave you a soft smile, the hand that wasn’t holding onto you moving to push his glasses up. It was such a simple act, but it still made your heart flutter.
“Hi.”
Time seemed to slow down. The sound of his voice was like velvet. You wanted to be buried inside it.
Wanted him to be buried inside you.
Whoa. Okay. Drunk thought.
But a very persistent one. Even in your sober moments.
Luckily, you still had enough control over your brain to not let the thought slip out of your mouth. You just stared at Bob for a moment. Someone had said something, but you weren’t listening. You only noticed because Bob’s head had snapped toward the speaker.
You had a perfect view of his side profile. A glorious sight of his perfect nose.
What would it be like to sit on it?
God, you really needed to get some water in your body. The thoughts were becoming more and more unfiltered with every second. Soon, you’d let something slip. And then you’d die of embarrassment.
You bit your lip, forcing your mouth to stay shut.
“What do you think?”
Bob was talking to you again. You stared at him, confused. What did you think of what?
“Don’t think she was listening, Bob.”
That came from Hangman. Your eyes flitted over to him, catching on the teasing smile he wore. You had the urge to flip him off, but you stayed still.
“Hey.”
Your eyes moved back to Bob’s face as he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
Maybe that would be best. You were clearly hanging on by a thread. And maybe if you did slip—which you were pretty sure would happen eventually—you’d at least be alone.
Alone with Bob.
You practically shivered at the thought.
Because you couldn’t trust your mouth to open and say anything other than ‘I love you’ , you opted to nod your head.
Bob smiled at you.
“Okay then. Here, hold onto me.”
“Not that drunk.”
But you still held onto him. Because he’d offered. And because it meant he would be closer to you. Bob had said goodbye to everyone. You’d followed with a drunken wave.
And then the two of you were off.
The whole drive home, you stared out the window. If you looked at Bob, you’d start thinking dirty things. And that would make you want to do said dirty things.
But you didn’t want to scare Bob.
So you kept your eyes on the road.
You struggled to get your shoes off at the door. And Bob, being the gentle soul that he was, sank down to his knees to help you out.
You shook your head, trying to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.
It seemed to work pretty well.
Until it didn’t.
Bob had waited outside the bathroom as you changed. When you’d slipped back into the room, dressed in an oversized shirt, Bob came to help you to bed.
He handed you a pill and a glass of water. You took it without question. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t have a hangover tomorrow. But the odds were definitely not in your favor.
You chugged the water down before handing Bob the empty glass. He placed it on the nightstand before moving to tug the sheets over your body.
“Sleep tight.”
Bob moved to leave the room, but you grabbed his hand before he could take even a step away from the bed.
“You okay?”
His face was full of concern. You smiled up at him.
“You’re really sweet, Bob.”
“It’s not a big deal… really.”
You let out a soft hum, not letting go of his hand.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Bob smiled at the question.
“Sure.”
You gestured for him to come closer. He did as you asked, leaning down so your lips were right at his ear. He could feel your breath on his cheek.
“I think you’re really handsome.”
Bob's heart skipped a beat at the confession.
And then you kept going—
“I think about riding you all the time.”
Bob nearly had a heart attack.
You let go of his hand, settling into the sheets and closing your eyes.
Bob leaned back into an upright position, still staring at you with wide eyes.
But you were already fast asleep.
The sun slipped into the room through the curtains. You opened your eyes with a soft groan. Your eyes took a while to adjust to where you were. You rubbed at them, trying to ignore the soft pounding in your head.
Hangover.
Fantastic.
Honestly, it could have been worse. You were sure the headache would leave after some coffee. So you peeled yourself off the bed, feet padding against the floor as you made your way to the kitchen.
Small flashes of last night moved through your brain as you waited for the coffee to brew.
You bit your nails, trying to remember.
You remembered the bar. The drinks. Phoenix’s smug smile. Bob’s hand on your shoulder. His voice. That’s when a hazy memory flickered behind your eyes. A whisper. Something you said.
Something about Bob.
God, had you said something? You weren’t totally sure—but there was that gnawing, sinking feeling in your gut.
You were startled by a knock on the door. Instinctively, you glanced at the clock. 10 o’clock. Not bad, considering how late you’d gotten in last night.
But who would be at your door at such a time on a Sunday? You moved to grab your phone to check for messages. And that’s when it hit you.
Your phone.
You’d forgotten it at the bar.
You opened the door, and there he was. Bob Floyd, looking far too good for someone this early in the morning. He had your phone in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
“Hey,” he said, a little cautiously. “You, uh… forgot this.”
You reached for the phone, your fingers brushing his just slightly. He didn’t pull away. Neither did you.
“Thanks. I—yeah. Sorry.” You gave a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I didn’t even realize.”
Bob nodded once, then hesitated.
The kind of hesitation that meant he was thinking about something. The small feeling of dread crept back. Okay, so you’d definitely said something. Because sure, Bob was a shy guy, but this wasn’t his usual shyness. This was something else.
There was tension.
Even if you didn’t remember exactly what you’d said, Bob clearly did. Before you could think too much about it, you moved to the side of the door, allowing Bob to see into your house.
“You want coffee?” you asked. “I just made a pot. And you look like someone who’s already been up too long.”
Bob hesitated for a moment, fingers clenching and unclenching. Your heart raced. What the fuck had you said? But then he looked at you and gave you a soft smile.
“Sure. Yeah. Coffee sounds good.”
You let out a soft breath as he walked into the room.
Your hands shook slightly as you closed the door. Bob Floyd was inside your house. Bob Floyd knew something you couldn’t remember. You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out or not.
Bob settled at the kitchen table as you grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee. His eyes flicked toward you every so often, like he wanted to say something. You pretended not to notice, but your heart raced as you handed him his mug.
“One cream, two sugars.”
Bob’s eyes lit up slightly at your words. You’d remembered how he liked his coffee. He had only told you once, and you still remembered. It made something warm flicker in his chest.
“Thank you.”
You gave him a small smile.
“Yeah, well… thanks for, you know, coming back with my phone.”
He nodded, fingers curling around the warm cup.
“Yeah. Figured you’d want it back sooner rather than later.”
You laughed softly, the sound a little too breathy.
“Yeah, definitely.”
There was a pause.
Bob cleared his throat. “About last night…”
Your heart skipped, but you didn’t look up. “Yeah?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, you said some things.”
Your cheeks heated. “Did I?”
“Yeah. But it’s okay. I’m not mad or anything.”
You glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a brief second. “Honestly, I don’t even remember most of it.”
“Me neither,” he said with a small smile.
It was a complete lie, of course. He remembered your exact words. He remembered how you smelled, how warm your breath had been on his neck. He remembered going home and, much to his shame, lying in bed and taking care of his little problem while your voice echoed in his head.
“But I figured, if you’re sober now, maybe we could talk about it?”
You swallowed hard. “I’d like that.”
His smile grew warmer. “Good. Because I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
“No, me neither.”
The tension wasn’t gone, but it had dulled a bit. You were sure you’d be embarrassed by whatever had slipped through your lips. But you also knew Bob wouldn’t hold it against you.
You were adults. You could act like it.
You were not, however, prepared for what Bob was about to tell you. He had struggled for a moment, trying to be as gentle as possible. It was clear from his face that he was flustered. As soon as he told you what you’d said, you were sure you’d just died. Or at least you wished you were dead, because you could not handle this conversation. You were not adult enough for this.
You placed your mug on the table with more force than necessary, hands moving to cover your face as you whispered “fuck” repeatedly.
Bob felt bad. He had expected it to be weird—awkward, maybe. But he hadn’t expected you to almost start sobbing into your hands. He could tell you were having a hard time breathing, so before he could think better of it, he got up. He placed his hands on your shoulders.
“Hey. Look at me.”
You shook your head emphatically, hands still hiding you from his warm gaze. You’d have to quit. That was the only solution. You could not handle looking at Bob every day knowing you’d told him one of your dirtiest thoughts in a drunken daze.
Bob’s hands moved to grab yours. You tried to keep them where they were, but Bob was stronger than you. He pried your hands away from your face, holding your wrists gently together. You bowed your head, staring at the floor.
“Can you please look at me?”
Fuck him. Fuck him and his soft hands and velvet voice.
You lifted your head slowly, expecting to be met with pity or disgust, but that’s not what you found. When you finally looked at Bob’s face, he looked just as out of breath as you felt. He was so close that your noses were practically touching. And his eyes—his big, beautiful eyes—were almost black with desire.
You nearly choked on your own spit.
“Did you mean it?” he asked.
You breathed heavily, trying to think of what to say.
“Well, you know the phrase… drunk words, sober thoughts,” you said with a slightly pathetic laugh.
And then Bob’s hands shifted. He let go of your wrists, cupping your face with a speed that made your heart stutter. You barely managed to gasp out his name before his lips were on yours.
The kiss was all-consuming.
Bob’s body moved against yours as he deepened it, his mouth warm and sure. You groaned as your back hit the kitchen counter. Bob tried to pull back to apologize, but you didn’t let him. You tugged his head back to yours, tongue sliding over his lips. He opened his mouth to you, letting you explore. His hands moved to rest on your hips, his body pressing you firmly against the counter.
His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your sleep shirt like he was trying to ground himself. You could feel the tension in his arms, the restraint in the way he kissed you—like he wasn’t sure how far you wanted to go. Like he was holding back.
“Bob,” you breathed against his lips, your voice rough, “don’t hold back.”
That was all it took.
He groaned, deep and low in his chest, before lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, pulling him flush against you. You could feel him—hard and heavy through his jeans—and the contact made you whimper.
“You have no idea,” he muttered against your jaw, lips trailing down the side of your neck, “how long I’ve wanted this.”
“Then show me,” you whispered, fingers already tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Please.”
Bob didn’t need to be asked twice. He tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him, and leaned back in to kiss you again—deeper this time, hungrier. His hands roamed, slipping under your shirt and dragging up slowly until your chest was bare to him.
“Fuck,” he whispered, reverent and breathless as he took you in.
He bent down, mouthing at the swell of your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple. You gasped, arching into him, needing more. You clawed your shirt completely off, whining as Bob continued to suck your breast. Your shirt fell somewhere near his but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Bob.
Bob and his perfect fucking mouth.
Your hands fumbled with his belt, desperate to get him out of his jeans. “Bob, I need—”
“I know,” he said, voice wrecked as he reached down to help you. “God, I know.”
You finally got his belt undone, yanking at his jeans until he helped you shove them down just enough to free him. Your eyes dipped down, and your breath caught. God, of course he was big. And thick. And flushed an angry shade of red, already leaking from the tip.
Bob groaned as your hand wrapped around him. It was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. You just smiled and leaned forward to press your mouth to his neck, dragging your tongue over the pulse there. But then his hands were on your thighs, thumbs dragging over your waistband, eyes dark with heat.
“Wait,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “Let me taste you first.”
The way he said it—like it was a need, not a want—almost made you give in.
Almost.
Your fingers curled into his hair as you looked him dead in the eyes.
“Next time,” you whispered. “I need you inside me right now.”
Bob groaned, like the words physically hurt him, but he nodded.
“Okay. Yeah. Just—fuck, come here.”
He should probably have taken your underwear off entirely. But you were both so impatient and the little bit of fabric wouldn’t affect his skills. So he tugged your underwear to the side with one hand and guided himself to your entrance with the other.
You were more than ready for him, slick and warm and aching. And when he finally pushed in—slowly, carefully—you both let out a sound that could only be described as relief.
“Holy shit,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.
“You feel—fuck—” Bob gritted out, forehead pressed to yours. “So good. You feel so fucking good.”
He gave you a second to adjust, but you were already rolling your hips, desperate for more. That’s all he needed. He set a rhythm, hard and deep, his hands gripping your hips like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.
Every thrust sent you back into the counter with a delicious thud. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. His name fell from your lips again and again, each time more breathless than the last.
“Hey,” he panted, causing you to look up at him, brows slightly furrowed with pleasure.
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you a secret?” he rasped, one hand sliding up your back to cradle your head.
He hit your G-spot, making you moan his name before nodding. Bob leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.
“I touched myself to the thought of you last night. Couldn’t stop thinking about you on top of me.”
“Oh, fuck—Bob!”
It was so odd how sweet you found his confession. The entire thing was said in such a dirty manner, made even nastier by the sound of his dick spearing into you with every thrust. But you understood why he’d said it. It was his way of telling you he wanted you too.
Your eyes glossed over, head tilting back as you moaned. Bob latched onto your neck, sucking hickeys into the skin. He shifted his hips slightly, allowing him to hit a deeper angle—and you were fucking gone.
You came. Right there on the kitchen counter, gasping his name, clutching him like a lifeline as the orgasm ripped through you. Bob followed moments later, burying himself deep with a low, drawn-out groan.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just heavy breaths and the rapid beat of two hearts trying to slow down. Bob’s fingers traced lazy circles along your back, grounding you both in the afterglow. He leaned down, lips brushing softly against your temple.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, voice husky with emotion and something deeper—admiration, maybe even awe.
You smiled weakly, breath still shaky. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
His hand slipped from your back to cup your cheek, thumb tracing over your flushed skin. “I want to take my time with you. Not just tonight.”
You met his gaze, heart pounding all over again. “Me too.”
Slowly, carefully, he helped you off the counter and into his arms, like you were the most precious thing in the world. You let him wind his arms around you, your bodies pressed in a tender hug. The sun shone brightly outside, but you paid no attention to it. You nestled into Bob's body, hearing his heart slow down as you two enjoyed each other's embrace.
“I’m never drinking again.”
Bob chuckled at your words, the vibration rippling through your body.
“I’m glad you did.”
You lifted your head off his chest, gazing into his eyes.
“Glad I got shitfaced and told you I thought about fucking you?”
Bob smiled again, his hand moving to push some hair off your face.
“I’m glad you feel the same way I do about you.”
It was your turn to smile now. You placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Of course I do, Bob. You’re easy to fall for.”
“And to ride, apparently.”
You gave him a soft slap, but you couldn’t help but smile.
“I don’t know. I never got actual experience. I just fantasize about it,” you teased.
“You wanna find out?”
You gave him your cheekiest smile.
“You bet I do.”
His hands found your waist again, pulling you close as a slow, knowing smile played across his lips. The promise in his eyes was impossible to miss, and you matched it with one of your own, full of mischief and anticipation.
The kitchen, the morning light, even the lingering scent of coffee—all faded away, leaving only the delicious tension between you two, teasing and ready to explode. Whatever came next, it was clear neither of you planned on letting this be the last time.
Summay: Bob wakes up from a wet dream with one goal in mind. You. As soon as you're back from your workout.
CW: 18+ MDNI! Smut!! Un-protected P in V (make good choices), post-workout sex, oral (fem recieving), fingering, multiple orgasms, spanking, pussy spanking (I don't know how we got there), dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics, use of good girl/boy, over-stimulation, tears (good ones), body worship?. Aftercare, fluff towards the end. Can be interpreted as Reader having slight body image issues (calls herself gross after the workout multiple times).
Author's note: Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, please fasten your seatbelt and put your tray tables into their upright positions as we begin our descent into Smut City. Thank you for flying Air Unhinged. That's it. That's all I've got to say. I'll go sit in a corner now. (Can be read as a part of the Little Peanut Universe or as a stand-alone.)
Word count: 5493
Saturday morning greeted you with sunlight streaming in throughout the peek in the bedroom curtains. The sound of birds chirping floated through the cracked window. Warmth caressed your face from the beams floating through the window. Your fiancé snored softly beside you, his breath fanning over your neck, his body pressed against you, face buried in the crook of your neck. His strong form molded against you like he was made for it, all hard muscles and soft skin, warm and comforting like always.
Carefully, as to not disturb him, you reached for your phone. 9:32 am. Usually, Bob would already be up by now, dressed in his running gear, preparing a pre-work out smoothie for the two of you. But he had had an exhausting week on base, running complicated drills that kept him at work until late in the evening, sometimes not coming home until after midnight.
You turned carefully to get a better look at him. He looked so peaceful. Light brown hair tousled from sleep, long lashes fanning his cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly, lips puffy. He really enjoyed the Saturday morning runs when he had days off, so did you. It was a nice routine you had found together ever since college, keeping academic stress and later work stress at bay. It was also a nice compliment when you didn’t always make it to the gym during the week.
But he looked so at peace now, and you remembered how tired he was coming home last night, dozing on the couch as you made dinner. Sure, you could wait for him to wake up before heading out, but you also knew yourself. If it didn’t happen now, you’d be caught up in everything else that needed to be done today, like the giant pile of laundry in the bathroom, and all the wedding invitations that needed to be placed into envelopes and addressed.
Carefully, you pressed a soft kiss to Bob’s temple before extracting yourself from his arms and sneaking out of bed. He gave a small grunt of disapproval in his sleep and shifted slightly, but didn’t wake up. Instead, he buried himself deeper into the pillow and let out a tired snore.
You gave a small smile at the sight before padding towards the dresser. Your favorite green work out set sat readily at the top of your other workout and lounge wear. Also grabbing a pair of underwear and socks, you snuck into the bathroom to change.
Not wanting to wake your fiancé, you forewent the smoothie for a protein bar. You didn’t like running on an empty stomach as it made you queasy, but something large and heavy had the same effect. After finishing the small snack, you fished out your headphones from between the couch cushions, laced up your shoes and stepped out into the fragrant morning breeze.
XXX
Your entire body arched as he thrusted into you, pressing closer to him, hands clawing at his shoulder blades. Your drenched pussy squeezed his cock like a vice, dripping with desire, choking him. So warm, so wet, enveloping him in a way that only you could.
“Oh god” you moaned into his ear, voice vibrating in a way that sent goosebumps erupting down his neck.
“Y/N” he panted, pleasure washing over him, coiling low in his belly, cock pulsating inside you. He was so close, his body shaking with the effort to not blow his load too soon. He needed to feel you come first, needed to feel your pussy squeeze around him, gushing wetness, drowning him.
“Bobby!” Your voice floated into the air like a prayer, increasing his pleasure ten-fold. His hips stuttered when you moaned into his ear. He could feel the tension knot at the base of his spine, his body seizing up as he–
The first thing Bob noticed when he woke was the lack of warmth next to him. Sure, the bedroom was warm from the morning sun, but you weren’t there. Your telltale warmth, the dip in the mattress next to him, your scent that usually surrounded him when he woke up, nothing. The second thing he noticed was how hard his dick was. Thick, heavy and pulsating with need. Pre-cum had leaked in his sleep, now warm and sticky in his briefs. The covers were wrapped around his body, scratching against his bare chest.
Bob slowly reached around your side of the bed as the dream came back to him. The way you had shifted against him, the way you had scratched your way down his back, moaned his name in his ear, so eager for more of him. A groan left him as he rubbed a hand over his face. The need grew hotter in his lower belly.
He had lost count of the number of sex dreams he’d had of you over the years, especially back in college when you didn’t get as much time together. It always left him aching with desire, wanting nothing more than to drag you straight to the bedroom.
“Honey?” he called out, voice still rough with sleep. “You home?”
No answer. He reached around blindly for his phone to check the time. Wow… Almost 10:30. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in that late. The nature of his job meant his body clock was naturally wired to wake up early, even on his days off. But his week on base had been absolutely grueling. Long hours both on the ground and in the air, high-stakes, energy-draining drills, leaving him bone-tired, barely making it to bed last night.
There was no sound of you puttering around in the kitchen, no sound of the shower running. Something told him you had left on your morning run without him. And even though he loved the routine you had built together, he couldn’t even fault you for leaving without him. He felt properly rested, and that in itself was worth it. Maybe he could go on his own later.
If he even made it out of bed. Because right now, the thought of staying in bed all day, breathing in the scent from your pillow, and later you, sounded really tempting. He turned over, now half of his stomach. The pillow on your side of the bed was cool to the touch, slightly malformed from where you had rested your head on it.
Pulling it close, he inhaled deeply into the fabric. Your sweet, heady scent surrounded him, invading his senses. He groaned into the pillow, shifting his hips towards the mattress. Images from the dream flashed through his mind again and his dick twitched in his briefs. A teasing pleasure shot up his spine, the sensation causing him to grind down again.
Bob imagined you under him, back arching, nipples pressing against his torso, pussy warm and dripping around his cock. Then he imagined himself between your legs, tasting the arousal dripping from your core. Your legs around his head, tightening, locking him into place. He could practically feel his own tongue pressing against your clit as you ground your pussy against him.
Another low moan left him, muffled by your pillow. He wanted to keep grinding into the mattress, biting into your pillow, chasing the pleasure that had haunted him since deep in his sleep. But he wouldn’t. He’d be a good boy for you. He’d wait.
Letting out one final, exasperated groan, he turned on his back again, letting the crook of his arm rest over his eyes. His cock twitched again, straining against the fabric.
He had just decided on a cold shower when he heard the front door unlock. The soft sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the small apartment. Finally… You were home!
Bob slowly rose from the bed, muscles straining, back cracking as he stretched. His body felt both heavy and light at the same time, if that was even a thing. Part heavy with a good night’s sleep, part light with the excitement pulling him towards you like a magnet.
You were sitting on the bench in the entryway, unlacing your shoes. “Hey” you said, smiling, still a bit breathless as you looked up at him.
Your skin was all flushed, shining with a layer of sweat. You were wearing that green work out set he loved so much. The tight pants that hugged every curve, making your ass and thighs look incredible. Then there was the matching sports bra that always meant he had to look the other way when you were running together, lest he be running with a painful hard-on.
“Hey, darlin’” Bob murmured, feeling his dick grow heavier at the sight of you. “Good run?”
You winked up at him, peeling off your shoe with your toe. “Yeah, it was good. Missed you, though. Though I thought it would be better to let you lie. You looked exhausted.”
He chuckled, running a hand through the messy mop on top of his head. “Thank you for that” he said sincerely. “I think I needed it after this week.”
You gave him that understanding look he always associated with his work for some reason and rose to your feet. Cupping his cheek, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. Your lips were just a little chapped from the run, and he could taste the salt. Sighing, he pulled you in closer, hand on your hip. His lips slanted against yours, and the warmth of your skin bled into his, just a tiny bit sticky.
God, you looked so gorgeous, and you smelled like the perfect mix of you, just pure you. Flowery remains of yesterday’s perfume, musk from the run, and that natural scent that was just you, the one that always filled his senses when his face was pressed between your tits. It was fucking glorious.
He almost whined when you pulled back, giving him one final peck. “I’m gonna go and shower” you said, pulling back. “I’m all gross.”
Bob couldn’t help staring at your ass as you walked past, trailing after like a puppy. The way those pants clung to you, Jesus Christ! All he wanted was to devour you, bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you senseless.
When the two of you first met, he’d been an eager but extremely careful person in the bedroom. Not much experience, but always wanting to make you feel good. Together, you’d carefully explored each other’s appetite over the years. He still considered himself quite traditional, if you could call it that. Vanilla, you always joked. But there were times when he wanted so much more, when he wanted things that’d make him blush later.
You stopped in front of the bathroom mirror, leaning a hip against the vanity as you began pulling bobby pins from the messy bun on top of your head. A single bead of sweat slowly made its way from your clavicle down your torso before disappearing between your tits that were pressed together so deliciously by the sports bra.
Bob swallowed thickly, throat dry, watching you casually get ready for the shower like he wasn’t slowly dying inside. His heart pounded behind his rib cage, pumping more adrenaline into his system, fueling his horniness. The slope of your back shone in the bathroom light and he longed to trace his tongue along it, to taste the salt on your skin, feeling your muscles work under him.
“What are you staring at?” you smirked, looking back at him through the mirror. The bun was now half-loose, gracing the nape of your neck.
“You” Bob deadpanned. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “You look gorgeous.” He didn’t miss the way your eyes snagged on the way his biceps bulged, or the way they trailed down his body, stopping at the obvious bulge in his briefs.
Heat flashed through your eyes before you snorted. “I’m all sweaty and disgusting.”
But Bob just lazily pushed off the doorframe and sauntered over, stopping behind you. The heat from your body mingled with his. He could feel the goosebumps breaking out all over your arms as he ran his hands up and down your skin. Your lips parted in a gasp as he leaned in to kiss a delicate line of kisses down the slope of your neck, lips travelling up the side of your neck now. He stopped to pay extra attention to the soft skin where he could feel your pulse jumping in your throat.
A faint moan escaped you, fingers grasping the edges of the vanity for purchase. Bob groaned into your neck when you instinctively pushed your ass back into him, molding against his straining cock.
His hands found your sports bra, fingers toying with the material covering your breasts. He could feel your nipples under his palms as he massaged them, already hardening under the stretchy material. It made his cock twitch, pushing against you, a wave of pleasure coursing through him. His fingers travelled lower to circle the peaks over the sports bra, causing you to grind back again.
“Fuck you feel so good against me” Bob muttered, nipping at your shoulder. “Grinding back like the needy girl you are.”
“Bobby” you gasped, craning your neck to give him more access.
The sound of his name slipping from your lips made something come undone inside him. He grasped the fabric of the sports bra and yanked it up. Your arms followed immediately, rising to help him pull it over your head. He tossed the material to the side, stopping for a second to take you in.
Your breasts hung flushed and heavy, nipples hard. The pads of his fingers traced the indents and lines in your skin from the bra like an artwork, following along your back, around your ribcage and up and around your breasts. Every trace of his fingers was punctuated by the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
“Look at you” Bob whispered, glancing up at your reflection. Your cheeks were tinted pink, lips puffy and open, eyes blown wide. “So beautiful.”
He took your nipples, rolling the peaks between his fingers. You moaned in response, body arching, thighs clenching together. Bob licked a stripe up your neck, tasting the warm, salty skin. He’d read years ago that having sex after a workout was supposed to be more…intense. All that blood flowing, endorphins already high. He’d bet you’d taste fucking amazing, too. Musky, sweet, and just pure you. He was dying to test that theory for you.
“Wanna get in the shower together?” you asked breathlessly, leaning back to rest the back of your head on his shoulder, hand coming up to tangle in the tresses of his hair.
Bob shook his head, pressing another kiss to your pulse point, loving the way it jumped under his lips. “Not yet” he muttered. “I wanna taste you first.”
He could feel you stiffen slightly and glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. “Are you sure?” you asked. “I probably smell.”
“I’m so fucking sure” Bob assured you, tilting your head back to press his lips to yours, soft and loving. “There’s nothing I want more.”
And with that, he stepped back, hooked his fingers into your skin-tight pants, yanked them down along with your underwear and sunk to his knees behind you.
Fuck…
The sight of you was unreal. Folds swollen and glistening, already soaked for him. Your legs trembled as he gently but firmly pushed them apart. Bob heard your breath hitch as he gently stroked his hand up the back of your thigh and ass cheek. His own mouth watered at the sight of your wet pussy.
“Bend over, baby” he whispered.
You shuffled backwards slightly, bringing your heat even closer to him, your breath labored, skin flushed as you rested your forearms on the marble vanity.
Bob sat there on his knees, completely mesmerized as his hands grasped your ass cheeks, spreading you wide for him. A low groan escaped him at the sight. He could feel his glasses fogging up, dangerously close to sliding down the tip of his nose. The knot of pleasure grew harder and larger in his lower belly, begging him to do something. Anything.
Absentmindedly, he let his thumb glide along the edge of you, feeling the wetness coat his digit, relishing in the way it made your hips stutter backwards.
“Bobby” you warned, voice clipped and on edge.
He chuckled lowly. “Okay, okay, baby.” He couldn’t help it, he loved riling you up too much.
His glasses were off and placed on the vanity a second later. Then he leaned in and unceremoniously licked a line along your core, tongue flattened against you.
Fuck, he was right! It was incredible. The smell, the taste, everything was heightened. You let out a long moan, body jerking as you leaned against the vanity.
“Sensitive?” Bob teased, smirking against your wetness.
“Shut up” you countered, but your voice was breathy, and there was no real bite to it.
His dick pulsated in his boxers again, bordering on painful now, straining like a wild animal longing to break free. He licked over and over again, spreading you open, fingers pressing indents into your ass.
Every stroke of his tongue coaxed more beautiful sounds from you, echoing around the tiles like symphony. He craned his neck to gain better access to your clit, tongue circling and teasing the swollen nub. It was harder from this angle, but the way you trembled made it worth it.
It was heaven, you were heaven.
“God, you taste good” he moaned into you, feeling the way it sent vibrations through you.
But you just snorted again, shaking your head slightly. “I probably taste disgusting right now.”
Abruptly, Bob pulled away as irritation flared in him. How could you not see that he would always want you no matter how sweaty or fresh off a workout you were? It was natural! He didn’t expect you to smell like sunshine and rainbows, or a flowery meadow or whatever crap social media made women believe these days. That wasn’t natural. He loved your taste, especially like this.
“Call yourself disgusting one more time, and I’ll spank you.”
Your breath hitched and you craned your neck to look back at him. Your eyes were blown wide at the suggestion, curious heat mingling with surprise. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious” Bob nodded solemnly. His hand rubbed a few circles over your ass, mostly to prove a point.
He knew he’d never brought it up before, and that he was the one who seemed hesitant when you did a few months back. But maybe he just needed to be in the right mood? Or be irritated enough with you.
You were quiet for a few moments before a devilish grin spread across your face. “So…” you started, eyes teasing. “Are you going to make me say it again?”
Whack!
His hand had come down harshly over your butt cheek, barely giving you time to finish the sentence. Your body had jerked forward, lips parting in a loud gasp. You threw your head back at the impact.
Pleasure Bob hadn’t expected flooded through him at the sight of the redness blooming across your skin at he soothed the area with his palm.
His other hand reached for your pussy, two fingers gently circling your entrance before pushing inside.
“Oh God!” you moaned, pussy sucking his fingers in, soaking them, holding them in as you clenched.
“Does that feel good?” Bob asked, his voice breathless with satisfaction as he watched his fingers disappear in and out of you.
“So good” you breathed in response.
His hand came down on your ass again in a hard smack, and you moaned loudly. He could feel your pussy squeeze around his fingers with every whack. Curling his fingers, he found that special spot inside you. Your entire body convulsed as he rubbed your G-spot, thighs clenching, closing in on his hand.
“Keep your legs open” Bob commanded, voice rough. “I want to try something. Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
“Okay” you whispered, nodding in understanding. “I will.” Slowly, your legs opened shakily. Your arms found further purchase on the vanity.
Bob pulled his fingers out of you with reverence, relishing in the way your walls fluttered around him. He leaned in to press a kiss to the red splotches blooming over your butt.
His fingers rubbed circles over your clit for a moment before –
Whack! Again.
But this time, his fingers, soaked in your slick, had hit right on your clit with a wet, satisfying smack. A loud gasp let you as your body keened towards him, a tremble shooting through you.
“Fuck!” you swore, the sound echoing. “Fuck that’s good!”
“Yeah?” Bob’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Think you can take it again?”
“Mhm” you whimpered.
He smacked your clit again, and you convulsed. Your forehead leaned on the cool marble, breathing harshly as he spread you wider, loving how red and swollen you had become. You were close, he could tell.
Another smack. Harder this time.
Your orgasm ripped through you before you could stop it. Bob’s fingers were there, guiding you through it as you convulsed and screamed above him. Your quick breaths painted the mirror in fog, spreading over the surface like an incoming storm. But Bob didn’t even let you come down properly before he was on you again.
His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive nub. “You’re so sexy” he cooed. “So good for me.”
All you could respond with a low moan as your hips jerked in uneven movements, as if you wanted to get closer and further away at the same time. Bob leaned in, licking circles around your entrance before pushing his tongue inside.
The taste of you overwhelmed him, taking over his senses completely. He groaned into you, sending vibrations through your core and buried himself deeper, pushing his tongue in and out as deeply as he could. His fingers kept up their ministrations as he tongue-fucked you. Your moans quickly grew louder again as he kept going, his other hand running up and down your hot, trembling skin. Bob was pretty sure the only thing keeping you upright was the vanity, and that gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
“Bob” you mewled, knuckles white from gripping the edges of the marble. “Baby, it’s too much!”
But Bob just groaned, reveling in your over-stimulation. “You can take it” he muttered, voice slightly muffled against your soaked flesh. “I know you can. You’re doing so good! I know you can give me one more.”
He pushed his tongue back inside you, fucking you like a man possessed, like someone starved. He knew he could die just like this, with your taste on his tongue, so close to blowing his load in his pants like a teenager. Your pussy started to contract around him, and Bob knew just how close you were again. He kept his rhythm on your clit, angling his tongue further towards your G-spot.
A hoarse scream ripped through you as you soaked his tongue, mouth and chin, slick spreading everywhere as you came. Bob lapped at you like he was dying of thirst, which he sort of was. A thirst for you, for your pleasure. He could feel you contract around him, body convulsing as the aftershocks ripped through you.
Finally, he slowly leaned back to observe his masterwork. Fresh sweat had pooled over your back, your entire body had taken a beautiful red tint, your lips were swollen from where you had bitten down on them, small indents visible.
Slowly, he rose to his feet again, hands on your hips for support. His knees protested after having been on the floor for so long, but he ignored the ache.
“Look at you” Bob cooed, bending over you to press a line of kisses down your shoulder. “You’re doing so well for me. Such a good girl.”
You mumbled something in response, too tired to make up a coherent sentence. But Bob just smiled and gently grabbed you by the shoulders to hoist you up and into his arms. The sight of you in the mirror was unreal. Face flushed, pupils so large he weren’t sure where they ended and your irises began, body trembling as you leaned into him for support, your arms tiredly resting crossed over his. Your face burrowed into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He loved how possessive that made him feel.
His dick pulsed against you where it rested on your ass. Without even thinking much of it, his hips ground forward slowly.
God, the pressure was amazing! Finally, some relief. A loud moan escaped him, his head dropping forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. The only barrier between you now was the thin material of his briefs, sticky and wet with pre-cum. Pleasure shocked his entire system as he kept dry humping you.
“Get in the shower with me” you whispered, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.
A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine, knotting at the base. “Yeah?” he whispered back, voice husky. “Think you can take more?” His tone was gentle, but he wouldn’t deny that he fucking ached to push his cock inside you, feeling the slippery mess you made. He probably wouldn’t last more than a minute or two, but it would be enough.
You giggled quietly. “If you hold me up.”
“Oh, I’ll hold you up, darlin’.”
He stepped back to shove the briefs down his legs, kicking them off to the side before kneeling to help you take the workout pants and underwear off properly. His cock bobbed happily as he moved, painfully heavy now that it was free of its constraints. The head was covered in pre-cum, leaking embarrassingly by now. But in this moment, he couldn’t care less.
The room was filled with a rhythmic smatter when the shower head was turned on. Bob set it to that scalding temperature he knew you liked before turning back to you. He stretched his hands out, and you took them, letting him lead you under the spray.
You sighed contentedly when the water hit your head and shoulders. Steam soon started to billow around you as Bob settled you against him, letting your arms drape around his shoulders, bodies pressed together. He leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, relishing in the intimacy of having you so close. Your breasts pressed against his chest, your nipples digging in like two sharp diamonds. His dick twitched against your stomach, practically making his head spin with anticipation.
“You ready?” Bob whispered. His breath mingled with yours in a delicious fog.
You nodded and he gave you a quick peck on the lips before grasping the backs of your thighs and hauled you up into his arms like you weighed nothing. Your arms instinctively wrapped tighter around his shoulders for purchase and a thrill of anticipation shot up Bob’s spine.
Bracing you against the tiles, he used one hand to line himself up and finally pushed himself inside you.
A long groan echoed across the bathroom, mingled with your whimper. It felt like releasing years of tension, like coming home, like reaching heaven. Your warm, wet walls squeezed him like a vice, practically choking his cock. Fuck, if he didn’t hold back with all his might, he might just come inside you right now.
Bob could see a small crease form between your brows, your eyes closed as you leaned your head against the tiled wall.
“You okay, darlin’?” he asked, gently kissing the crease.
That coaxed a small smile from you as you sighed. “Yeah” you whispered. “Just over-stimulated. Give me a second.”
“As long as you need.” Though he wasn’t completely sure he could hold that promise. Not without spilling at least.
He pressed a line of kisses down your neck, hands digging into your thighs to steady himself, trying to ignore every instinct inside him that screamed for him to move. He wouldn’t. Not until you wanted him to.
After a minute or two, he could feel your hips shift, searching for friction. His eyebrows rose in question and you nodded, eyes full of love and wanting. With one final kiss, he pulled back until he nearly slipped out, before thrusting back in.
The moan that left you nearly did him in. Your walls clenched around him with every thrust, your hips doing their best to meet him. Your face was all scrunched up, part concentration, part overwhelming pleasure. Your bottom lip was snagged between your teeth, and all he wanted was to pull that bottom lip into his own mouth and nibble on it in that way he knew you loved.
“You feel so good, darlin’” Bob panted, eyes locked on you like missing even a single second of your pleasure would kill him. “So tight around me, taking me so well.”
You responded with a moan. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving streaks that stung under the hot spray of water as you clawed at him. He’d probably catch hell for that in the locker room by Monday, but right now he couldn’t care less. All that existed was you.
He angled his hips to reach your G-spot better. The sound of wet skin against skin filled the room, mixing with the patter of water and sounds of pleasure. He knew he hit the perfect angle when you let out a yelp and your entire body convulsed, like it had earlier when you were bent over the vanity.
“Think you got one more in you, baby?” Bob asked, voice strained with the effort to hold it together for you.
“Yes!” you gasped, pushing yourself even closer to him. “Just keep doing that! Feels so good!”
He could feel his body seizing up at your words. “God, when you say things like that” he panted. “I won’t last, darlin.”
You reached between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. Your hips bucked as you rubbed in fast circles. Bob watched, completely transfixed as the overwhelming pleasure inside him built. Fresh sweat mixed with the water dripping down your body, eyes shut tight.
“Keep touching yourself” he encouraged, his hands trembling on your thighs, hips stuttering to meet yours. “That’s it, baby! Make yourself come on my cock.”
“Bobby” you moaned, voice barely there. “I’m gonna-”
“Look at me” Bob instructed, feeling your walls starting to contract around him in that rhythmic way. “I need to see you.”
Your eyes flew open as you came, body shaking, lips parted and even more chapped from biting on them, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. Bob thrusted once, twice before his own orgasm overtook him, hips jerking as he pressed as close to you as humanly possible. His cum painted your insides in warm, thick ropes. It was overwhelming. Everything inside him caught fire as you rode out the aftershocks together.
You stayed like that for a while, just catching your breaths, enjoying the closeness. Eventually, he pulled out, his dick sticky and slick with the both of you. You hissed loudly when he did, and Bob murmured an apology, kissing your temple.
“Wow…” you breathed, giggling. “That was intense.”
“Yeah” Bob agreed, carefully setting you down on your feet. You wobbled slightly and he steadied you with a hand on your shoulder. “A good intense, though right?”
You nodded instantly. “Definitely! I should go on morning runs alone more often.”
Bob chuckled sheepily. “I’m sorry. You looked so sexy in that running gear I love. I mean you always look sexy, but you know what I mean. And I read this internet theory that sex is supposedly more intense after a workout. When I saw you I just couldn’t wait to test that theory.”
“Well, lieutenant, I think its safe to say you proved that theory right.”
He could feel his stomach swoop at the use of his titles. He really loved when you used them in this context, and you knew it. “Careful with calling me that, darlin’. Or I’ll have to get you ready for a round two.”
“Oh no” you laughed and pushed gently at his chest. “I am completely sexed out for now.”
“Alright” he laughed, leaning in to kiss you sweetly. “How about I help you wash off instead? Then make us something to eat? We have all those wedding invitations to send out. And our cake tasting later this afternoon.”
He loved the way your face lit up when he spoke about the wedding. He loved talking about the wedding. He couldn’t wait to spend forever with you.
“Sounds like a plan” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you.”
summary: days at the beach are common for the squad, but what happens when you reveal something underneath your cover-up that not even your boyfriend expects to see?
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, doggie (yum), fingering, thigh riding (double yum), semi-public sex (on da beach in his truck), hair pulling (fem receiving), reader is shorter/smaller than bob, (new) established relationship, reader has a tattoo, drinking contest mention, reader gets a little tipsy..., kinda shy!reader, no use of y/n
word count: 6.9k
a/n: i don't have tattoos but if i did, i would want my pilot bf to react like this. bob is soooo yum in this, i just love bf!bob so much. thank u for reading!!
masterlist
your call sign: lucky
The TOPGUN squad was an intimidating bunch. You had come into the group with wide eyes and clenched fists; it wasn't exactly the first thing you wanted to see from a renowned naval aviator.
Sure, you had graduated first in your class and picked up respect wherever you went, but nothing ever helped with the feeling of anxiety and dread that would fill your body during unknown social situations.
You remember the first day of training with Maverick. You had sat in the back, no one joining your table. You watched as the other pilots talked and shared looks with each other, like they had all known each other for years.
Coming into the military as a woman was hard enough, but by the end of your time at TOPGUN, you had soared above your commanding officer's expectations. During the last week of training, you got the order to become a reserve pilot for an upcoming mission. While you shook as you held the paper, your mentor patted you on the back and assured you that he had made the right recommendation and you would do just fine.
What no one had expected were the three enemy aircrafts that trailed after the team of aviators. You remember the buzz over your headset; you can still recall the words and how your heart jumped at the command.
"Reserve one, report to hanger one. Requesting immediate backup."
You remember how you flexed your fingers before steering in the direction of the take-off strip. How you breathed deeply as you pulled up into the air. How you didn't dare blink as you spotted the enemy aircrafts ahead of you.
You did your job right; it was evident in the way that two of the planes peeled off to come after you.
It truly was a dogfight once they circled around to surround your jet, but somehow you had managed to outmaneuver them, forcing them to eject.
Touching down on the tarmac, you were surrounded by cheers and hands grabbing at you. It was only natural that you landed the name Lucky from the senior pilots on the squad.
Still, now you were here. Surrounded by older pilots once again. No one from your class. No one you recognized.
It was the last round of training before the end of the day. You still hadn't flown yet. Instead, you watched as different teams walked to and from the tarmac, each coming back rubbing their arms and shoulders.
You had sat near a man with glasses, who had sent you a kind smile when you had first walked in. It seemed like the most logical choice to stay by his side for the majority of the day.
While you hadn't spoken to him, Bob watched you closely. You seemed nervous, but not unprepared. Your fingers bunched on your flight suit every few minutes, and you closed your eyes every time Maverick's voice rang out over the radio, announcing a kill.
Bob watched as you bit your bottom lip raw, the skin splitting in the middle by the afternoon. He told himself to look away, but couldn't help but be drawn back to the sight as you licked the now raw skin.
When Maverick called your name, along with Reuben "Payback" Fitch and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, you shot straight up from your seat. You shook both the men's hands as they smiled at you, but you didn't miss the look of disbelief they flashed each other when they thought you weren't looking.
"Alright, let's see what you got!" Maverick's voice crackled through the comms as you took a soothing breath in.
You cleared your throat before talking. "Um, Payback, Fanboy, stay at my six until we find Maverick. I'll watch north and east for the time being. Over."
"Copy that," a voice sounded as you began to circle the area.
This was good. This was great. You were doing well so far. You had a great team, and you trusted them. Well, you didn't know them, but still, you trusted them. That thought alone helped quell your nerves just a bit.
Down at the base, Jake laughed as your voice rang through the radio.
"Jesus, she sounds like a frightened baby deer. We should call her Bambi, not Lucky," he joked, earning a few hums and laughs from the other men in the room.
"Shut up, Bagman. She's been in the air all of five seconds," Phoenix defended.
This just made the man laugh harder. Nat shook her head and looked to her new WSO with a frown. But when she did, she spotted a scowl on the kind man's face.
"She'll be fine," Nat spoke quietly to him, but Bob just nodded as his face hardened further.
"I really don't like that guy," he confessed to Phoenix, earning a chuckle.
From your peripheral vision, you spotted a black blur. Something that sends full-body chills down your spine.
"Maverick spotted, four o'clock. Breaking into Delta Whisky formation. Over," your voice called out.
"Good catch, falling into formation now," Payback replied, following your jet closely.
Just a Maverick sped up to your right side, you and Payback fell back, cutting your engines, giving you a full view of Maverick's jet in front of your noses.
"Engage, engage," you ordered. Soon Payback's jet was breaking left while you curved right, surrounding Maverick.
But the older aviator pulled up before you could get a clean shot.
"Come on!" you groaned, wracking your brain for ways to catch Maverick off guard.
Suddenly, he was pulling the same maneuver on you, falling freely in the air and painting a target on your backs.
Without thinking, you pulled up into the air. The bright California sun in front of you, blinding you a bit.
"Whoa, Lucky, what the hell are you doing?" Fanboy called out as you continued to pull up.
"Drop back, don't lose sight of Maverick," you ordered, ignoring the tone of his voice.
Sure enough, Maverick took the bait, chasing after you. "Scared, Lucky? Didn't take you as someone who ran from danger."
His voice made you huff. The pressure made your skull sink further into the back of your seat and your breathing became more labored.
But just as quickly as Maverick had caught up to you, he had lost you all the same. The sun now glaring through his windshield.
The beeping of a tone sounded through his jet as he laughed.
"Clever, nice work," he told you, spotting your jet in his rearview.
Bob smiled brightly at you when you had touched back down on the tarmac. You hadn't quite met his eyes, but the little glances you sent his way were more than enough.
"Time to celebrate!" Payback called out, hands coming down to shake your shoulders. "Guess you are lucky after all."
જ⁀➴
You sit with Bob on a sandy blanket, watching the rest of the squad run around the beach and swim in the ocean. Leaning into his shoulder, Bob runs a soothing hand up and down your thigh.
"Having a good day?" he asks, sunglasses dipping as he looks at your flushed face. You weren't usually one to drink, but the watermelon margarita mix that Penny offered today made your eyes light up.
Bob laughs as you nod, sipping on your drink, eyes blinking lazily. It had to be your third drink of the day, something that made you pliable to his touch.
As his fingers comb through your hair, you hum, leaning closer into his touch.
When Maverick announced that you would be staying as a permanent fixture in San Diego, Bob had taken the opportunity to finally ask you out. He knew military relationships were hard, especially if you weren't stationed together. But this news, combined with the growing swell of emotions he had for you, pushed him to confess his feelings.
He had been a perfect gentleman since. Always opening the door for you and driving you both everywhere. As your relationship progressed, he started to break the physical barrier by guiding you through crowded areas with a warm hand on your back or pressing sweet kisses on your hairline when he saw you in the morning before training. It was new, but not unwelcome.
You had first bonded, truly bonded, when Maverick had taken the squad out to the beach to play football. When everyone around you began stripping their shirts off, your hands stayed glued to your sides.
"Not ready to get your first California sunburn?" a voice sounded next to you.
Whipping around, you saw Bob applying sunscreen across his arms, his fingers rubbing the white cream into the firm muscles.
"Something like that, yeah," you told him sheepishly, trying to look anywhere but his hands.
"Yeah, it's a bit intense. Here," he said, holding out the bottle, "I have more than enough to share."
Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the bottle. "Thanks." You gave him a small smile as you began applying the creamy mixture to your arms and legs.
From there on, it seemed like Bob was always looking out for you.
You felt a little sluggish during training? He was by your side with a granola bar and a sports drink from the vending machine.
You ran out of your drink at the Hard Deck? He was handing you another without you having to ask.
You were anxious after a particularly hard day? He stood outside the locker rooms and walked you to your car, only letting you go home after you assured him you were okay.
But all these small moments spiraled into something more just a mere week after the uranium mission had ended.
Maverick and Penny hosted the squad for a celebratory barbecue, everyone bringing drinks and dishes to contribute to the large spread. Bob found you in the kitchen prepping with Penny, helping her plate things that were coming out of the oven and chop garnishes, even as she tried to shoo you away.
You had been laughing at something she said when the knife in your grasp slipped, coming down to draw blood from your finger.
He registered the look on your face before you could even wince, standing up from his place on the couch to make his way over to you.
Bob cradled your hand near his chest, inspecting it thoroughly before guiding you towards the guest bathroom. His large hand held yours as you ran it under the sink, warm water soothing the cut and washing away the blood.
"Will you sit?" he gestured towards the lip of the tub as he dug through Penny's cabinet for a first aid kit.
It wasn't until he settled between your legs, dropping to his knees so you wouldn't have to crane your neck to look at him, that you realized the position the both of you were in. His face was so close to yours, you could almost feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. One hand found your calf, fingers pressing lightly into the muscle to steady himself, while the other dug through the first aid kit to grab the right supplies. And his chest was pressed up against your knees, almost crowding you, but instead it felt like he was just trying to assure you that he was right there for you.
Like he sensed you looking at him, his eyes found you. You hadn't meant to, but your eyes dropped down to his lips for less than a second.
But it had been enough for Bob, who moved to hold your jaw in his strong hand. When you fluttered your eyes shut and began to lean into his touch, he pressed his lips against yours.
He felt you smile a few seconds into the kiss, something that made his heart beat wildly. With a squeeze to your waist, he pulled away reluctantly. When he saw the confused look on your face, he moved to stroke your cheek.
"Gotta clean this up first, okay? Then I'll give you another kiss."
His words made your cheeks flush, but you just nodded and let him work.
"Earth to Lucky, you okay, baby?" Bob's words snap you out of your memories.
"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking," you say, smile on your face as he nods and kisses your forehead lightly.
The day was like any other. Jake and Bradley are running circles around themselves, entertaining everyone on the squad. Phoenix and Javy are dipping their toes in the ocean while sipping on beers. Mickey and Reuben are tossing a football up and down the beach. And you and Bob are sitting and enjoying the sun and the slight breeze of salty ocean air.
"Alright, lovebirds, up and at 'em. Shirts and skins," Maverick calls from the water.
Bob grumbles at this. After telling you about the horrible burn he got his week stationed out in California, you haven't blamed him for not taking his shirt off, even if it did mean you missed out on seeing his toned body. You never took yours off either, but Bob had never pushed for the reason, instead always offering to double-check your sunscreen application. You always giggled at this, knowing it was an excuse for him to run his fingers up and down your body.
"Split up, you two. I don't want a repeat of last week," Maverick says as you approach the group.
"You should've instated a no-dating policy, Mav," Rooster teases, shit-eating grin on his face. The others laugh at the thought of last week's game when you and Bob had become too distracted with each other, leading to him being laid out on the sand as Javy plowed into him.
"Come over here, Lucky. Never lost a game with you on our team," Jake calls, wagging a finger in your direction, beckoning you over. You nod, not thinking much of it, tugging off your T-shirt to join the skins, leaving you in your denim shorts and bikini top.
As you line up, mentally preparing yourself for a game of football after three drinks, you meet Bob's eyes and smile immediately. Just as Jake is about to hike the ball, a voice calls out from behind you.
"Whoa, Lucky! I didn't know that was why you had your call sign."
Reuben's teasing didn't go unnoticed by the group, all of them sharing confused looks.
For a brief moment, blood rushes to your head as the comment sobers you up. Your hands slap to cover your lower back as you yelp and look in the man's direction.
"Lucky, what's wrong?" Bob calls out from across you. When you send him a panicked look, he immediately rushes over to your side.
"Wait a minute, Bob hasn't seen this either?" Reuben asks, almost doubling over in laughter now.
You snap over to look at him as Bob's hands find your hips. "No, Reuben! No one knows except my old squad. It was a dumb, drunk mistake. Just like this," you groan, hands still not moving from their position.
"Baby?" Bob asks in a low voice so only you could hear, genuine worry on his face as he looks to you for answers.
You look around and see the rest of the squad looking at you, too. It makes you want to crawl up into a ball right on the beach.
Meeting Bob's gaze again, he thinks you almost look scared. It's only further confirmed when you speak again, "Don't be mad, okay?"
He nods his head vigorously as you bite hard at your bottom lip. Finally, your hands drop, and you turn around to show him your now exposed back.
What he sees makes a furious blush spread up from his throat to his cheeks, painting him in a shade very close to cherry red.
A four-leaf clover surrounded with small ribbons and other smaller clovers covers a sliver of your lower back, right in between where your dimples rest. The ink in perfect contrast with your otherwise blank skin, grabbing his attention immediately.
You look over your shoulder to see his reaction and swallow when you see the open-mouthed look he's giving you, not even tearing his eyes away for a moment to meet your gaze.
Bob swallows hard.
The tattoo wasn't what shocked him.
Well, it was. A little.
But mostly it was the fact that after a few months of dating, countless mornings, movie nights, beach trips, and stolen kisses, he'd somehow never seen it.
"You have a tattoo?" he finally manages. His voice coming out much higher than intended.
The squad erupts.
"A tattoo?" Fanboy shouts.
"On Lucky?" Phoenix laughs, like she can't believe it's true.
"No way." Jake looks at you, downright delighted. "Oh, this is the best day of my life."
You groan at them, your stomach sinking further at their jests. "I hate all of you."
"No, no, no," Hangman says, pointing dramatically. "You don't get to drop a surprise lower-back tattoo into the middle of football and then act like we're the problem."
"Agreed," Rooster chimes in.
Before you can speak again, you're drawn to your boyfriend, who looks personally betrayed, not hiding his puppy dog eyes very well. "You didn't tell me."
You turn toward him with a nervous look. "It never came up."
His brows furrow at this, eyes immediately dropping back to the tattoo. "It definitely should've come up."
The redness spreading across his face only makes everyone laugh harder.
"Bob is malfunctioning," Phoenix announces, hand coming up to her eyes to wipe away the tears.
"I am not," he defends, still not looking anywhere but your skin.
"You've been staring at her back for thirty seconds," Bradley teases as the squad laughs in agreement.
"I have not," he mumbles quieter this time.
"Thirty-five now," Fanboy adds.
You bury your face in your hands. "Can someone please kill me?"
"Nope," Maverick says from the middle of the group. "This is too entertaining." The older pilot folds his arms and grins as you send him a look of disdain.
"So what's the story?" Jake asks, football now tucked neatly under his arm. The rest of the squad looks to you expectantly as you just shake your head.
"No."
"No? You can't say no! You've derailed our whole afternoon," Jake argues back.
"Or you could just act like it's any old tattoo. Is it really that big of a deal?" you sass back, eyes rolling at his ask.
"Is Lucky with a four-leaf clover tattoo on her lower back a big deal? Uh, yeah, I think so," Jake says, gesturing for everyone to agree with him.
When they do, you look to your boyfriend once more. His eyes find yours, and you silently plead for him to save you. Instead, he sends you a small look, shock still on his face.
"I'd like to hear this, too," he says as the squad whoops triumphantly. You narrow your eyes at the man, silently mouthing traitor as he looks as innocent as ever.
"Fine!"
The beach falls silent instantly at your voice.
You cross your arms, already bracing for more ridicule. "I was twenty-one."
Jake immediately doubles over laughing, "I already know this is going to be good."
"Shut it, Seresin!" you snap as he just laughs harder. "It was the night of my TOPGUN graduation. The squad I flew with earlier that week came out to celebrate me, and we may or may not have gotten a little tipsy."
"You mean drunk?" Bradley teases as you send him a death glare.
"Okay, yes, drunk." You put your hands up like you're being interrogated. "And we might have started a competition about who could drink the most in one sitting."
"But you're a lightweight," Bob says next to you as the squad laughs.
"Hey," you pout, not really defending yourself but still a little offended by his observation.
You huff before continuing.
"The loser had to get a tattoo chosen by everyone else."
The beach exploded.
"No!"
"Absolutely not."
"You lost?"
"I lost."
Jake nearly falls over, hands reaching out for support. "You're telling me Lucky got a lucky tattoo because she lost a competition?"
You cover your face, feeling your cheeks burn as you recall the night. "Yes."
The laughter becomes deafening at this. Maverick's laughing. Phoenix. Everyone. Even Bob.
Especially Bob.
"Oh my God," Bob wheezes.
"I hate you," you grumble as he tries to reach for your hand. Despite how you pull away from him, he refuses to let go.
"Baby," he calls, eyes pleading for you to look at him.
"No."
His grin softens at your stubbornness. "I think it's cute."
You narrow your eyes at the man. "You're lying."
"I'm really not." His ears immediately turn red again upon looking at the ink on your skin.
The squad notices, because of course they do.
"Oh, there it is," Fanboy shouts.
"Look at him go."
"He's red!"
"Leave him alone," you mutter, but finally laugh despite yourself. The tension slowly melting from your shoulders.
Bob squeezes your hand. Then he leans closer, close enough that only you can hear him. "I still can't believe you've been hiding that from me."
Your stomach flutters, eyes finding his. His stare is intense; it's akin to the same look he gave you last Wednesday night after you got done making out on his couch while trying to watch a movie. The memory and intention of his gaze make you nervous.
"It wasn't exactly important," you mumble, hands twitching in his hold.
His eyes drift briefly toward your lower back again before snapping upward. The movement is subtle.
Unfortunately not subtle enough, as Hangman catches it instantly. "Oh, he's looking again."
The squad erupts for a second time, whistling and calling out this time.
Bob groans, fingers squeezing yours as you giggle lightly. "Can you people not?"
"Nope," Hangman replies.
"Absolutely not," Rooster agrees.
Fortunately for you and Bob, Maverick chimes in again.
"Alright," he calls. "Now that we've all learned something new about Lucky today, can we finally play football?"
"Please," you beg as the squad laughs, but reassumes their formation.
But Bob looks at you for just a few moments longer.
For months, he'd been quietly taking care of you, bringing you drinks, walking you to your car, making sure you ate after long flights.
But somehow the thing that finally broke him wasn't a dangerous mission. It wasn't Maverick. It wasn't combat.
It was a tiny four-leaf clover tattoo.
When Bob searches for your eyes again, he finds you already looking at him.
Your smile is soft, and his expression immediately melts. The teasing around you fades into background noise.
"Still think it's cute?" you ask quietly.
His eyes flicker to the tattoo one last time. Then back to you. "Yeah."
The answer comes without hesitation, and your chest squeezes at the realization. "Even knowing I got it because I lost a drinking contest?" you test with a nervous look on your face.
A laugh escapes him, smile lines and crow's feet crinkling. "Especially because of that."
You roll your eyes, but still smile.
Bob leans close once more, "I think I'll have to take a closer look when we get home."
Heat floods your face instantly as he just watches you. "Oh my God," you squeak out.
His smile widens at this, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.
Across the beach, Hangman points.
"There! Now she's red."
જ⁀➴
You go to grab the cooler sitting by the bed of Bob's truck, but before your hand can graze the handle, you feel your boyfriend's firm grasp on your lower tummy, tugging you in the opposite direction.
"Go sit in the car, I got it," he tells you, pressing a short kiss to the top of your head.
"Thank you, Bobby," you say, a small smile on your face as you move to climb into the passenger seat of his truck.
Despite the earlier teasing at the exposure of your tattoo, you settle into the stillness of the truck easily. It isn't until Bob joins you that you fully allow yourself to sink into the seat.
"Come 'ere, pretty," he says, opening his right arm as he starts the car. You slide over the open bench of the truck and tuck yourself into his hold.
Now leaning up against him, you close your eyes as his thumb rubs soothing circles into your shoulder. You hear the steady beating of his heart as you sit in the idling truck, the thumps calming you into a trance.
"Tired?" he asks as you nod your head, relaxing in his hold. "Let's just sit then. We can watch the sunset, then go home, how's that sound?"
"Perfect, Bobby," you mumble, hands going to wrap around his waist.
A cool chill had overcome the beach as the hours passed. Bob sees goosebumps creep up on your skin, from your arms to your tummy, the skin still exposed ever since this afternoon.
"Baby?" he asks, voice rising like it had earlier that day. The sound of it makes you sit up.
"Are you okay?" Your hand comes up to his face, holding it softly.
He nods, turning his head so he can kiss the inside of your palm. "Can I see it? Now that it's just us?"
Sure enough, the rest of the squad had pulled out of the parking lot, leaving you and Bob to watch the sunset in peace.
You blush at your boyfriend's request, but still pull away from him and turn your back towards him.
His hands find your lower back quickly, fingers tracing the delicate lines of your tattoo. One hand settles on your waist while the other continues to lightly rub your skin. You hear his breathing hitch slightly as he moves the denim fabric of your shorts down a little to get a better look.
Your fingers move towards the buttons at your front and you shimmy off the denim, dragging the fabric down your legs.
"Better?" you ask innocently. Bob's glad you don't look back at him now; surely you would see the goofy look on his face and laugh a bit.
For now, all he wanted was to take you all in, uninterrupted. No Jake or Bradley in his ear, teasing him, no Phoenix sending him looks, and no you, with your pretty gaze and soft smile. He couldn't take it.
Now he sees the swell of your ass from your bikini bottoms, your cheeks pressed up against the leather of his truck, criminal. The flimsy ties on your hips sit pretty, like they're waiting for someone to undo them. Suddenly, his eyes are tracking over your backside too, not just your once-hidden tattoo.
"Jesus, baby," he says, hands traveling further down to play with the shiny fabric of your bottoms. Bob feels himself strain a bit in his swim trunks.
As his fingers travel lower and lower, you can't help but arch away from his touch, pushing your hips back into the man's touch.
Now you look over your shoulder and see his mouth open, and his eyes blink quickly.
"Bobby," you call his name, and his eyes find you, gaze lazy but alert all at once.
"Come 'ere," he says once again, this time patting his thigh. Just as you're about to straddle his lap, his hands correct your hips, turning you so you're facing the sunset and leaning over the steering wheel.
You look back in confusion, but Bob just moves in to kiss you sweetly, stealing all the words from your throat.
"You said you wanted to watch the sunset, so watch," his voice is low now, like it was earlier on the beach. "Need a closer look, is that okay?"
Your tummy turns at his question, and you find yourself pressing into the firm muscle of his thigh, hips coming down to roll on the ridges.
Bob huffs at this and reaches for the strings of your bottoms, pulling the fabric out of the way completely, leaving you bare on his thigh. His hands find your ass, fully palming you now, squeezing the fat there.
"So pretty, you know that, Lucky?" he asks, one hand now traveling across your soft, warm skin to rest on the top of your inner thigh. Fingers are dangerously close to where you need them.
Just as you're about to answer, you feel his lips descending on your neck, pressing hot, wet kisses across the skin. You squirm even more at this, hands gripping the wheel until your knuckles go white.
"So wet against me, haven't even touched you," he teases, breath hot by your ear, as you whine.
"Need your touch, please," you beg, hips canting against his thigh once more until his hands still you into place.
"Want my fingers?" he asks as his left hand goes to slip further down from your thigh to your heat.
"Yes, yes," you plead, throwing your head back against him, leaving your throat completely exposed for him as you arch once more in his hold.
Bob dips his mouth to the front of your neck now, nipping rather than just sucking and kissing. At the same time, his thumb finds your bundle of nerves within seconds, pressing little circles of pressure against it.
"Keep moving against me, baby, I'll help you," he tells you, right hand coming to help your hips move back and forth against his thigh.
Your now pebbled nipples rub against the thin fabric of your bikini, making you whine at the feeling of the sensitive skin bouncing up and down a bit. Seeming to have no trouble moving your hips onto your boyfriend's muscle, his hand comes up your front and begins to play with the strained nipples over your top.
"Bobby, please," you cry out. Immediately, he takes one of your tits into his large palm and squeezes the fat. The rough moment makes your hips jerk, but they don't stop moving.
You yelp as he sucks at an especially sensitive part of your neck, eyes rolling back and closing as you let yourself become consumed by him.
The circles on your clit become tighter, and you can feel your boyfriend flex the muscles in his thigh with your movements. The string in your tummy begins to wind tighter and tighter.
One particular firm press at your core makes you tense up and fall apart on Bob's lap as he continues to suck at your neck and pinch at your tits.
As soon as the shakes in your thighs begin to settle, Bob moves his hand from your wet core to splay it across your tummy, tugging you back into him. As you settle on his lap, you feel the large bulge digging into your back, something that makes you whine in his hold.
Your hands leave the steering wheel, fingers are a bit cramped, but you still go to reach behind you and fiddle with the string of his swim trunks.
"Need more," you say breathlessly as he huffs into your neck.
"Yeah, yeah, you sure?" His hand come up to your jaw, turning it so he'll be able to see your face. When he does, he sees a fucked out look on your face, eyes batting sweetly and tongue coming out to wet at your lips. The sight makes him groan as he grips your face tighter and bring you into a heated kiss.
His tongue works to push into your mouth, and once you part your lips, he licks into your mouth like it's his first time tasting someone else's spit.
Your hands don't stop moving, though, and finally, you free him from his shorts, pushing the fabric down his hips as much as you can.
From here, Bob lifts your hips up and settles you on all fours on the bench of his truck. By now, the sun is long gone, and he can only see the ink of your tattoo when the moonlight catches on your body.
The sight of your dripping cunt, hanging out in the air for him, makes him all but rip the shorts off his legs as he moves to come up behind you. He can see your core swell and push against nothing, the slickness collecting on your inner thighs painting a pretty picture for him.
"Sorry, baby, I just can't help myself," he says as he dips a finger in your entrance, making your back arch and ass press into him even further. As you do so, you can feel his throbbing length against your ass cheek, jumping and rubbing into you as he stretches you out on his fingers.
Soon enough, he pushes in another finger, curling them into you at a slow pace that makes you crave more.
Sensing your dwindling patience, he bends over your frame until his mouth is by your ear. "Just getting you ready for me, okay?"
You nod at this, not trusting your voice anymore. Before he pulls up again, he brushes your hair and tucks it behind your ear, placing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head.
The kiss is sweet, but the way his fingers pump in and out of your heat is anything but. Your muscles squeeze against him, and each time it happens, you feel his hips grind into you. His member now flush with your body as he rubs himself against you at the same rhythm of his fingers.
"Please," you whine out again, and you feel his fingers leave your entrance. Now, you feel a firm hand on your lower back, thumb rubbing where your tattoo is. The other hand guides his member towards your entrance, pushing in slowly.
Bob feels your warm heat envelope him, the ridges and veins on his dick being pressed perfectly against your walls. "Oh, fuck, baby," he says as you pulse around him, not even halfway in yet.
"Feels good," you whine, pushing your hips back against him, swallowing more of him.
"Gonna hurt yourself, baby. Slow down," he groans, no real push back in his voice as he bottoms out, hips now pressed against the globes of your ass.
"Please, Bobby," you plead again, head moving to look back at the man.
He whines, seeing the look on your face. To think you were such a shy, meek thing around everyone, and now you're pushing back on his dick, begging him to fuck you into the seat of his truck.
Bob tears the T-shirt off his body before moving. On hand coming to the hem and raising it above his body, giving you a view of his abs and biceps all in one go.
His other hand roams down your back to the pretty little bow of your bikini top. You feel him fiddle with it for a minute, almost like he's contemplating whether or not he should untie them. But ultimately, he pulls the strings and lets the top fall onto the seat beneath you.
Within seconds, his hand attaches itself to your tit, rolling your nipple in his hand. The other goes back to its place on your lower back, thumb pressing into your ink. And finally, he reels his hips back and pushes into you.
You both moan at the feeling, his tip finding a deep part of you as you arch further into his hold. Soon he finds a steady rhythm, pushing his length in and out of you as you squirm underneath him.
There are so many things to look at, from the way your face presses into the leather to the way your ass bounces against his hips as he thrusts into you. But again and again, he finds himself looking at the little clover on your backside. The ink is something so foreign on your otherwise unmarked skin.
If you had asked him a few hours ago, Bob would have never expected you to have a tattoo, let alone one in this spot. But then again, he wouldn't have expected you to lull your tongue out and push your hips into his as he fucked you for the first time.
Both things were exhilarating, making his heart race and his thrusts pick up in pace, something you seemed to be a fan of as you whine underneath him.
He knows he should've laid you out on his bed, taken care of you, really taken care of you, not just let you grind against his thigh and finger you until you were whimpering under him. He should've kissed all over your body, let his mouth find your core, tasted you.
But every time he caught a glimpse of the delicate tracing of your tattoo, he felt himself reel all over again.
Bob had to have you like this, bent over and pressed into the seat of his truck. Back on full display to him, muscle and sweet skin exposed.
Still, he felt a little guilty that he let it happen like this. Couldn't even get home before he started reaching for you and thinking about your tattoo.
Instead of dwelling on the fact for any longer, he allowed himself to feel your wet heat, feel how it squeezed against him. His hand left your now raw, sensitive nipples in search of your clit, thumb wanting to find it once more to make you come again.
"So fucking good, so good, Lucky," he groans, hips slapping harsher against you as he finds your sweet spot once again.
You try to keep your eyes open, try to look at him and the blissed out expression on his face, but as soon as his thumb makes contact with your bud again, your eyes roll back into your head, and you sink into the leather underneath you.
"Warm and pretty, all for me, huh?" he asks, thumb pressing firmer, tighter circles into your clit.
Nodding, all you can do is whine at his words. The way his hand pushes on your lower back, arching you further into his hold, makes his length find a home in your heat in the best way possible.
His body comes down to yours like earlier; now you feel his rigid muscles moving against your back. The hand that was on your back gathers your hair into a sloppy ponytail as he tugs you up to his face.
"Need a kiss, please, baby," he whines, hips snapping into you at a brutal pace. Still, you can tell he's close, his body covers yours, humping into you like he has something to prove.
You nudge his nose and pucker your lips. Suddenly, he's diving in, sucking at your lips, firm and searing kisses pressed into your mouth. At the feeling of his thumb tapping against your clit, your mouth opens, giving him the perfect opportunity to capture your tongue and suck. Spit mixes and drips down your chin as you begin to shake in his hold.
Again, the thread snaps in your tummy. His length moves in you, not letting up, helping you through your climax. Bob's mouth kisses around your face, hand still gripping your hair so he can reach your cheeks, forehead, and chin with his mouth.
Soon, you feel him spill into you, groaning against your mouth. The warmth seeps into your tummy, and you find yourself wanting to curl further into his hold.
Bob heaves against your back as he works to the end of his climax. Snaking a hand around your waist, he takes you from your spot on the bench and instead plants you on his lap upright.
His arms squeeze around you as his head dips in between the softness of your neck, laying sweet kisses there.
"Are you okay? It wasn't too rough, right?" he asks, hands tracing your skin in a way that makes you shiver.
"Felt so good, I promise," you say, nudging his nose once more and leaning in for a soft kiss.
"Good, good." Bob wraps around, warm body cradling yours.
"Maybe I should get another tattoo and not tell you. I think I could relive that over and over again," you tease as he laughs into your skin, both of you still feeling a bit loopy from your pleasure.
"One surprise tattoo is enough for a lifetime," he says, tightening his arms around you.
You smile against him as the faint light from the moon dances across his features; even now, you see the teasing look he gives you.
"I was really convinced you'd be upset," you confess, the quietness of the car almost swallowing your words.
But instead, Bob pulls back to look at you. "Upset?"
"About the tattoo."
A look of genuine confusion crosses his face. "Why would I be upset?"
You shrug. "It was a stupid drunk choice, doesn't exactly scream responsible naval aviator."
Bob stares at you for a moment, like he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth.
Then he reaches forward and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You flew into a combat zone to back up a team that was outnumbered."
Your eyes drop.
He continues anyway.
"You graduated at the top of your class. You're the best pilot I know."
A small smile pulls at his lips.
"I think you're allowed one stupid tattoo."
A laugh escapes you. "Just one?"
"One," he confirms, nodding his head, but the smile on his face says otherwise.
"You're very generous," you tease, leaning in to kiss his lips again.
He groans into the kiss, pressing deeper, like he can't get enough of you. "I know," he whispers as you laugh.
Suddenly, your tattoo doesn't feel so stupid anymore.
the rest of the squad had ran off in the distance to start their football game. bob was just about to jog after them when he heard your honeyed, angelic voice call out to him, using that nickname he loved to hear—though he’d never confess to that.
he turned around and blinked, “y-yeah, of course,” he replied as he sheepishly approached you.
you smiled at him and turned your back, “you’re the best.”
bob sucked in a breath, willing himself to not fumble under your sweet praise. he took the bottle of sunscreen by your side and squirted some onto his hands.
he stood behind your reclined figure, “i…i’m gonna touch you now…” he warned, more to himself than to you.
he heard your soft giggle, followed by a “i sure hope so, how else would the sunscreen get on?”
he mentally slapped himself, “right…”
the moment his hands made contact with your skin, you both jolted. you with a tiny exclaim of “tickles!”, and him because he couldn’t believe he finally got to touch you so intimately. your flesh was smooth and warm, his calloused fingers glided with ease, spreading the thick sunscreen lotion in circular motions.
you hummed and let out a satisfied sigh, leaning further into the beach chair, “mmm, you’re good with your hands, bobby.”
thank goodness you weren’t facing him, or else you would’ve seen the pink mess you’d made of his cheeks. and with great shame, your words went directly south.
he cleared his throat, “yeah? that’s good to know…” he mumbled casually as though he were talking about the weather.
bob kept on rubbing the cream over the expanse of your back. he tried to distract himself by looking at the waves or counting numbers in his head, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the way touching you made him feel, the stream of thoughts that crossed his mind.
“d’you have a girlfriend, bobby?”
he was pulled out of his daydream by the sound of your voice. he stammered for a moment and shook his head quickly, before realizing you couldn’t see his face.
“me? no, no.” he rambled out, silently wincing when he realized just how pathetic he sounded by answering so fast.
“really?” you sounded genuinely surprised. “why not, you’re so amazing.”
fuck, he felt himself get half-hard at that.
he let out a self-deprecating laugh, “heh well, most girls go after guys that look like hangman or rooster…”
you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “that’s bullshit. common misconception about girls: everyone thinks we want the hot, brooding bad boys and assholes.”
you tilted your head slightly to the side to catch his eyes, “but in reality, we all get wet for the sweet, quiet, and effortlessly sassy ones with the witty comebacks.”
this time, you could actually see the blush that bloomed on bob’s cheeks. you smiled proudly, knowing you got him so flushed. “who are also hot, might i add.”
bob had to turn his head away from you, your compliments too much for him to handle all in one go. “thanks,” he breathed out. you let out a small laugh before looking away again to save him from mortification.
it went quiet again, bob continued lathering you up. for a moment, he recovered and thought he could resume functioning normally again. that was until you spoke up,
“wanna see for yourself?”
his hands froze on your back and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “see what?” he asked, oblivious to your implication.
you smiled and turned your head once more, “i said girls get wet for guys like you. so do you wanna see for yourself?”
bob.exe has stopped working.
you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, not wanting to make bob feel like you were making fun of him. you shifted your whole body over to face him fully. you took his sunscreen-covered hands and wiped them on your waist—bob’s heart skipped several beats—before you guided them to the hem of your swim bottoms.
his eyes snapped up to meet yours, a wordless question exchanging between the two of you: ‘are you really letting me do this?’
you simply nodded at him with an encouraging smile.
his quivering fingers slowly, hesitantly dipped under the fabric of your bottoms. his pace was measured, as though he were waiting for you to change your mind and push him away.
but you wanted this. so bad. you took hold of his wrist and brought him to where he needed to be.
bob couldn’t stop the moan that ruptured out from his lips when he felt the slick between your folds. his pupils instantly dilated and he gulped the remaining drool left inside his mouth.
“is this…all for me?” he asked, almost like he couldn’t believe it.
you nodded and leaned into the touch of his fingers, “mhm, all for you, bobby. only you.” he groaned so desperately at that.
the two of you were grateful that the beach was empty besides your squad—who were far enough to not notice what was happening.
his breathing picked up the more his digits explored you. he experimentally pushed a finger past your entrance, earning him a dreamy sigh from your perfect lips. he watched your expressions carefully, studied them diligently in tandem with his movements so that he could produce only the best results from you.
the rewarding moans he received in exchange only spurred him on. his thumb gingerly rubbed circles over your clit. he licked his lips when he saw you throw your head back in pleasure.
“do you…like that?” he wondered.
you managed to nod, “love it, bobby. you’re so good at this. knew you’d be.”
his heart soared, the fire inside him only growing larger and wilder as you fed him praise and encouragement. the same applied to his hard-on.
in the midst of your pleasure, your eyes fluttered open and you spotted the aching erection he was sporting—his flimsy shorts doing very little hide his predicament.
“bobby, you’re hard,” you announced as if he didn’t know it himself; didn’t feel the pain of it as he strained through the thin material.
“y-yeah, i am, sorry,” he murmured nervously.
you shook your head, “don’t be.” you told him before you pushed the waistband of his shorts down, “let me take care of you.”
not a single protest escaped bob’s lips when your mouth wrapped around the angry, red tip of his leaking cock. you hummed around him, the vibrations going straight to his spine as he shivered.
“you take me so well, fuck.” he gasped out.
his fingers faltered for only a brief moment before he kept working your pussy, mimicking the pace you kept with your tongue. when you wrapped your hands around the base of his dick, bob added another finger into your heat; both of you moaned in bliss. you took him in deeper; he curled into that special spot inside you. you choked around him; he fisted your hair in a vice grip. a symphony of pleasure, a gentle, yet passionate duet.
and like all symphonies come to; a crescendo.
you both climaxed at the same moment. your walls practically sucked him in as he fervently pumped in and out of you, feeling his fingers get sloppier and stickier. your breathless moan was contained around the girth of his dick. bob’s knees nearly buckled as he released, painting your throat a messy white portrait of his pleasure.
you pulled away from him with a pop!, bob reluctantly withdrew his wet digits from your tight heat, already missing the warmth that your walls housed him in. the two of you caught your breaths, your chests rising and falling on the same beat.
when you finally recovered, you let out an airy giggle, “that’s how you get the girls, bobby.”
bob let out a trembling laugh at your remark, “by making good use of my hands?”
you hummed, “yeah. though next time, i’ll have to show you how to make good use of your cock as well.”
he cracked a toothy smile, “i don’t think i can apply sunscreen with that…”
Warnings: Fluff, SMUT (sub!bob vibes, hickies, cums early in pants, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms, some overstimulation)
Word Count: 3,500+
Request: Could you make a Bob Floyd one please! Could it either be mark kink (like hickies/Bite marks) or coming in pants (or both of those👀) @iristheplanet16
Summary: You and Bob didn’t expect movie night to end with him cumming early, but he desperately wants to make up for it.
A/N: I love taking request! I hope i was able to capture your vision, iris!
The early stages of a relationship are always the best—the nerves while getting ready for a date, the butterflies, the ridiculous moments when you’re a full-ass adult but still overthinking a kiss. You’d catch yourself asking friends for advice. “Was that text too much?” ”Do these jeans make my ass look good?”
That’s where you and Bob were. After months of nerves, (mostly from him), he finally asked you out. And once the air was cleared, once you both admitted what had been obvious for far too long, you quickly learned just how romantic he could be.
Since then, there have been a handful of dates. You hadn’t known a man’s cheeks could get so red until your first kiss. The initial nerves of being alone together had faded, but with comfort came the next step—intimacy.
Needless to say, Bob started to panic a bit. Kissing was goddamn magical, but the moment you’d straddle him, he’d excuse himself to the restroom or suddenly become very fascinated by the movie neither of you had been watching.
Like last week…
It had started with him pressing a kiss to your temple, then trailing slowly down your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your throat. His lips lingered there, nipping and sucking softly at the spot just above your pulse.
“So pretty,” he murmured against your skin. It sounded almost like a whine, as if your touch alone unraveled him.
That was all it took for you to snap. You turned, catching his mouth in a fierce kiss, and when your tongue brushed his lower lip, he let you in without hesitation. It wasn’t enough. Clutching his biceps, you swung a leg across his lap and settled against him.
“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth.
The sound alone made you shiver, and when your hips rocked down against the hardness twitching to life beneath his jeans, he whimpered. He wanted you—there was no mistaking the way his body responded.
“Sweetheart- oh fuck-“ He breath was ragged.
But just as you deepened the pressure, his grip tightened around your hips. With a sharp inhale, he lifted you off his lap, breaking the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, frowning as you landed back on the cushion beside him.
“N-nothing,” he forced out between heavy breaths, giving you a nervous smile to try to ease your mind. “Just… worried about Rose and Jack.” He nodded stiffly toward the TV.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want you—he’d made it clear enough that he did. But every time things edged toward more, they fizzled out the same way. The one indulgence he never held back from, however, was marking you. After Rooster’s teasing and catching Hangman checking you out, Bob had become relentless in his mission to leave at least one hickey on you at all times. You hadn’t exactly fought him on it either.
Now it was Wednesday—movie night. Like clockwork, Bob arrived at your apartment with fresh flowers to replace last week’s and a bag of takeout balanced in his hands.
Since it was your turn to pick, you chose a film you’d already seen. Something safe. Something background.
Because tonight, you’d decided, was the night.
After his usual soft kiss hello, you both settled onto the couch. The glow of the screen flickered across his profile, and you repeated those same four words you’d been clinging to all week: today is the day.
Bob’s arm was wrapped snugly around your shoulders, holding you close as you tucked into his side. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the soft cotton of his shirt under your cheek—it should have been comfortable. Instead, the first thirty minutes of the movie were pure agony.
Your eyes kept flicking from the screen to his face, searching for the right moment. Any moment.
But Bob, the definition of oblivious, just laughed at the movie and reached for his drink, completely unaware of how tightly your thighs pressed together beneath the blanket you shared.
Finally, you shifted, angling toward him a bit more. You brushed your lips against the warm skin of his neck, feather-light at first. His body went rigid instantly, his arm tightening reflexively around you.
You pressed another kiss, then another, working your way upward until your warm breath brushed against his pulse.
From the corner of his glasses, his eyes darted down to you. “Wha-what are you doing?” His voice cracked, betraying nerves he couldn’t disguise.
“Mmm… kissing you,” you hummed innocently against him, letting your mouth linger. A slow suction, the faintest scrape of teeth—enough to draw out a pink bloom on his skin. “That okay?”
His breath was shaky. When he turned to look into your half lidded eyes, he visually melted at the sight. “Yeah, it-it’s great.”
His other hand quickly came up to cup your cheek and bring you into a deep kiss, one that made the ache between your legs worse.
The arm that had rested around your shoulders slid down to your waist, tugging you closer as your tongue brushed past his lips to find his. His grip tightened like he couldn’t get enough, like he was afraid it would end.
When there was nowhere else left to go, Bob surprised you. He guided you onto his lap. The sudden shift made you gasp against his mouth, but you weren’t about to complain.
A low groan rumbled from his chest as he held you flush against him, the hard outline of his cock pressing firmly against you. Instinct took over, and you grind down against the rough denim of his jeans, giving your clit the perfect friction.
“Mmm… you feel so good,” he breathed into your mouth, his voice low and uneven. His hands slid to your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to grind harder, deeper.
Your mind was reeling. Every time before, this was where it stopped—where nerves took over and the moment unraveled. But the way he bucked up against you now, the desperation in his kiss, made you hope this time would be different.
“Bob,” you mewled against his lips, sliding your hands under his shirt finding the ridges of his abs.
His touch grew bolder too. One hand slid over your thigh, squeezing gently before guiding your movements against the press of his cock.
“You-fuck- you’re heaven,” he groaned, as you pulled back just far enough to make him try to chase your lips. But before he could protest, your lips were at his throat again.
You nipped, sucked, leaving faint marks, blooming where your mouth lingered. “What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he sighed.
A moan slipped free as his head fell back, giving you more room. You took it eagerly, covering every inch of his neck with kisses. Needing more, you hurried the process and reached down, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it aside. His reaction was immediate—eyes going wide, breath catching in his chest.
“You’re so—wow…” His voice broke into a rough whisper. Your cheeks flamed under his stare.
“Oh, darlin’…” he sighed, bowing his head to trail kisses along the swell of your breasts, just above the line of your bra.
“I need you, Bob,” you pleaded, rocking harder against the thick bulge of his cock. Your fingers tangled in his neat hair, tugging just enough to make him go crazy.
“Oh-shit-” His breath broke into shallow pants. He whimpered your name, the sound almost desperate, his mouth faltering against your skin as he lost the ability to keep kissing you.
You cupped his face, wanting- needing to see him. His glasses had slipped low on his nose, and through them, his eyes dragged slowly from your chest, discolored with his kisses, up the column of your throat, until finally locking on yours. Those beautiful eyes he’d do anything to keep shining.
You closed the gap, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. He moaned into it, voice cracking as he gasped your name. His arms trembled around you, pulling you against his chest.
“I need you. God, please, I need you so badly.” You moved back down to his neck again, wanting to hear the sounds he makes when you suck on it.
His breath was ragged and moans flowed carelessly. It made the ache between your legs worse. You desperately needed relief as grinding against him clearly wasn’t enough anymore. Your hands slid down to the hem of his shirt, tugging, intent on getting him out of it. But just as you lifted the fabric, his grip clamped around your hips, halting your movements.
Your heart dropped with disappointment. Except, when you look up, you notice his eyes squeezed shut and his head tipped back, letting shaky moans escape. His hands clutched you so tightly it almost hurt, knuckles white against your skin.
Then it hit you—he wasn’t stopping because he didn’t want you. He came. He fucking came.
You shifted your hips back and looked between you. A dark patch started growing on his jeans where his bulge throbbed.
When you look back up at Bob, his chest was heaving and face was red.
“Bob?” You say soft and carefully, knowing he was probably- no, definitely humiliated.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’.” His eyes stayed seared shut, like he couldn't bare meet your eyes.
You were shocked to say the least, still processing what happened. “Hey, it’s okay, honey.” You reached for him, cupping his jaw until he let you guide him back. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, and the disappointment written there tugged at your chest.
He looked down at his crotch to the mess he made before looking back to you. “I should have stopped sooner. I wanted to make ya feel good-I- I planned to! I- ugh, I knew this would happen.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” You offer him a smile to ease his mind and then fix his drooping glasses.
“You’re just- just so pretty,” he frowns.
Your heart fluttered. “You know… It was kind of hot.”
His brows rise. “Hot? I- I don’t understand.”
A snicker slipped from your lips. “You came in your pants for me just from making out and mild grinding.” You press a kiss to his flushed cheek. “That’s hot, Bob.”
“Me? I… Gosh,” He processed your comment, baffled by the idea. Quietly, almost bashful, he says, “well, I might not be able to do much tonight, but I still wanna make you feel good.”
You chuckle, softly, brushing your nose against his. “Oh, honey, that’s okay, we can wait-“
“Please?” He cut in. “Lemme make it up to you.” His fingers dance along the hem of your shorts. “I want to- like really want to.“
Despite having just cum, you could still see the lust in his eyes. There was no denying how badly he still wanted you. The sight alone had that heat stirring in your core all over again.
“O-Okay.”
In an instant, his whole demeanor shifted. Excitement lit his features, though he was still gentle with every movement. He guided you onto your back along the couch, and your legs parted instinctively to welcome him between them.
He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the rug. Bob wasn’t one to be shirtless. His own insecurities often kept him covered, but he knew how much you loved seeing him like this. And for you, he’d do it.
When he leans down again, he gives you a sweet and tender kiss that trails to your jaw, down your neck, and to your breasts where he claims another hickey. Meanwhile, his hands slid around your back, fumbling at the clasp of your bra. It took him a moment, a muffled curse under his breath, but at last he managed it and flung the garment aside with his shirt.
“I’m a lucky man,” he murmured, eyes admiring you. He‘d never be able to get used to knowing you’re his.
Then he bent his head, lips closing around your left nipple. A soft moan slipped from you as he kissed and sucked gently before flicking the hardened peak with his tongue, sending a shiver through your body.
“Oh, fuck,” You moan. Your hands slid into his hair, tugging at the roots.
He pulled back with a wet pop before turning his attention to your neglected breast. His lips brushed lightly over the peak, teasing, until he finally sucked it deep into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. You arched off the couch, gasping for more as he traded between your breasts, taking his time until your whines filled the air and your hips rolled helplessly beneath him.
“Bob, please. Don’t tease.”
A breathy chuckle escaped him as he released you. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” His mouth trailed lower, scattering kisses down your stomach as his hands slid to your shorts. In one smooth tug, he peeled them down along with your panties, tossing them aside.
The sight of you bare made his eyes widen behind his glasses. His chest rose sharply, and he breathed, almost in awe, “Look at you…” He leaned in to press reverent kisses along your thighs, lingering and savoring the view. “Soaked.”
“Bob,” you groaned in frustration. “Please.”
“Mmm, fine,” he hummed into your skin, leaving a mark high on your thigh where only he would ever see it.
Then he shifted, settling your thighs on his shoulders. He kissed your clit softly, once, before pulling back, and licking his lips. The smallest taste had his pupils blown wide. Just like that, he was addicted.
He dove back in. Flattening his tongue, he dragged a slow, wet stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit, swirling around it until your head tipped back against the cushions, eyes fluttering shut.
“Fuck- yes! Keep going!” you cried, hands clutching at his hair. “Ohhh, like that!”
He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, nuzzling deeper as his tongue moved up and down your slick folds.
“So sweet,” he mumbled, the words muffled by your body. He didn’t pull back this time. He couldn’t possibly. He was too lost in you, too consumed. He slurped up every drop, not letting anything go to waste.
You could hear the squelch as he nuzzled deeper into your pussy, to devour you like a starved man. His palms kneaded the tops of your thighs while his tongue worked relentlessly at your clit—switching between flicks and slow, greedy suckles that made your whole body shiver.
“Shit shit!” Your thighs trembled around his head. When you forced yourself to look down, the sight nearly made you cum on the spot.
Bob’s glasses were slipping down his nose, fogged and smudged from the heat of your body. His fingers gripped hard into your thighs to steady your squirming, but what made your cunt flutter was the way he was rutting helplessly against the couch cushion—just as desperate, just as undone, as you were.
“You taste so damn good.” He groans into your pussy, flattening his tongue and licking broad stripes up, trying to taste as much of you as possible. “I could do this forever. Wanna wake you up like this, come home to this. I just love your pussy so fucking much.”
His words made your chest tighten, your breath come faster. You could only whine his name in reply, your voice breaking on every exhale.
Then his tongue pressed inside you, lapping greedily at your walls. His hand slid over, thumb finding your swollen clit and circling hard, mercilessly. Your back arched, fingers tugging his hair harder as your body tried to escape the intensity, but his grip only drew you deeper into it.
“AH! Bob!”
The pleasure was too much, sparking hot and sharp in your belly. He pushed your knees up against your chest, opening you wide for him, helping open your pussy so his tongue could massage every sopping wet inch of your cunt.
The moment he seals his lips around your clit, you’re done for. You feel the pressure rising in you becoming almost unbearable.
“Oh! Oh, God! Bob! I’m gonna cum!”
“Do it,” he begged into you, voice muffled but desperate. “Cum for me. Please, I need it.”
And you did. The world blurred as ecstasy ripped through you, your moans of his name filling the apartment. Your body shook, as you came all over his tongue.
He didn’t stop. Even as you came down, shivering and limp against the cushions, he stayed between your thighs, licking and slurping every drop of your release like he was deprived of water.
“Cum for me one more time, sweetheart.” He pleaded. One hand left your thigh, his fingers sliding through your slick before lifting to show you the shine coating them. “Hold your thighs for me.”
“Bob, I already-”
“Please, just one more.” He looks up at you through fogged glasses. How could you resist?
Still trembling, you weakly hooked your hands behind your knees, holding yourself open for him. The sight made him grin. He kissed your thigh softly, then returned to your pussy.
His mouth pressed reverent kisses to your clit as his slick-coated fingers eased inside. The stretch had you moaning all over again, your head tipping back into the cushions.
Bob groaned, the sound vibrating against your cunt. “God, you feel so good. So tight… you’d feel so perfect around me.” His hips shifted restlessly against the couch, cock dragging against the stickiness of his boxers and jeans. Even though he was already spent, he couldn’t help it. You did this to him. You made him absolutely desperate for you.
His fingers began to thrust, slow at first, wet noises filling the room. His mouth closed back around your clit, tongue working feverishly. When he curled his fingers just right, brushing that spot deep inside, your cry broke into a scream.
If Bob didn’t already cum, he would have just at the sight of you. Your legs in the air, back arched, nipples hard, obscene moans and incoherent words pouring from your lips.
“B-Bob!” you sobbed, thighs trembling in your own grip. “It’s too much!”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He lifted his mouth for only a breath, voice shaky. “You can take it. Please? For me? Just wanna see you cum again.”
Your body quaked with the effort, every nerve raw, every muscle begging for rest. And still, you nodded.
Bob didn’t hesitate after your nod. He dove right back in, tongue laving at your clit sloppily while his fingers worked deeper, harder, curling until your walls clenched around him.
The pleasure hit sharp and overwhelming. Your arms shook, struggling to keep your legs spread as your body writhed beneath him.
“Bob—ahh—oh God!” Your voice cracked on his name, a mess of whimpers and cries spilling out.
“That’s it,” he breathed against you, lips glistening. “So good for me. Let me have it, darlin’.”
His pace grew relentless, fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt. You could hear the obscene sounds of your own arousal being drawn out of you, each wet squelch only drawing you closer to the edge. Your nails bite into the skin of your thighs.
“Mmm,” Bob moans into you. “I know you’re ready to cum. Give it to me, darlin’. Gonna look so beautiful.”
You came hard and violently, your cunt spasmed, clenching down on his fingers, soaking his hand.
“Yes, fuck, that’s it, that’s my girl,” Bob groaned into you, lapping up everything you gave him. He didn’t stop until you were arching, then falling, trembling, boneless on the couch.
He carefully pulls his fingers from you, slow and careful, before leaning in to lap at the mess you made, cleaning you up with soft, unhurried strokes of his tongue. When he’s satisfied, he sits back to lick his fingers clean. His eyes flutter shut to savor the last taste of you.
Then his gaze finds yours again. “You okay?” His voice is husky, threaded with exhaustion and awe.
You’re still trembling, heart pounding so loud it drowns out everything else. When you're finally able to focus on him again, you smile weakly. His face flushed, hair messy, glasses foggy and crooked on his nose, but still looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.
You can’t help the weak, blissed-out laugh that bubbles up. “I’m perfect. I didn’t know you could do that.”
Relief softens his shoulders. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and lowers himself over you again. You bring your hands up to fix his glasses before he pulls you in for a slow and lazy. His hands cradle your face gently, thumbs stroking your warm cheeks.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your lips, and you feel him smile faintly when you kiss him back.
You knew it would take time before Bob could last inside you, before he trusted himself not to cum the second he was buried in your pussy. But you already knew it would be worth the wait.
A/N: First Bob Floyd fic I hope it lived up to the hype😅
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
Kinktober 2025 Tag List: @plu0725 @iristheplanet16
Summary: 4.2k (21+) Basically PwP. Bob's wanted you for ages and you want him too, so you ask him to take you home.
Warnings: Smut. PwP, Oral (male and female receiving), protected PnV, Bob has a big dick (as he should). I wrote this at 2am, so no edits.
A/N: I had a thought and decided to execute it. Enjoy!
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It’s been awhile. That was the only thing running through Bob’s head as you both stepped through the door into his apartment, wasting no time in reattaching your lips to his as soon as the door was locked. If this was his one chance at getting to take you to bed, he didn’t want to waste it.
He kissed you. Hard. Almost bruisingly, but you didn’t seem to mind. His glasses were fogging up a bit from your shared breath as he pressed you against the wall. Bob swallowed your moans as he pressed one thigh between your legs, allowing you to rub against his jeans with just the right amount of pressure.
And he was hard. So hard. The pressure behind his zipper was almost enough to have him whining along with you. It had been so long since he was with someone. So long since he’d even pulled himself off, though he’d considered it so many times in the last few months. Ever since you’d joined the team as Halo’s backseater, he’d wanted you. But wanting someone on the same team just didn’t seem right. So he watched you in that quiet way of his, always observant and keen to learn anything he could.
He learned your likes and dislikes. He knew you could take Hangman and Rooster’s shit and give it right back to them. He learned your coffee order and your favorite energy drink. And he also knew that you watched him right back with that smirk of yours that made him want to run away or jump out of a plane. He wanted to avoid your piercing gaze or be put under your thumb. He hadn’t really decided how he felt, but he knew he wanted you.
Bob definitely hadn’t expected to get you in his bed. Not tonight. Not ever. Because you were coworkers and you could have anyone, but you chose him. He hadn’t even realized you’d chosen him until you were at the Hard Deck and you’d sidled up next to him as he watched Nat beat Hangman at pool yet again while Jake tried to maintain his honor. You’d just sat next to him quietly. Comfortably. Like you belonged there. Two WSOs just watching the team you’d made a family battle it out over the pool table like they did every weekend. Then you’d nudged his arm.
“You wanna get out of here?” you asked quietly, not even looking at him.
Bob whipped his head towards you so fast he almost got whiplash and nearly dropped his cup of peanuts. If he were sipping on the coke sweating beside him, he would’ve done a spit take. You just gave him that slow smirk. He glanced around the room and noticed no one was watching them, so he turned back to you.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked slowly, disbelief still coloring every bit of his face.
“Oh, y’know,” your voice was nonchalant and Bob couldn’t understand how when you finished, “you, me, a bed? Your place?” Then you were taking a slow sip of your drink like you hadn’t just short-circuited his brain. Like you hadn’t just altered his brain chemistry and caused him to start stiffening in his jeans. You asked like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You mean that?” Bob asked, tone careful.
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. Meet me outside in ten minutes?”
And Bob, helpless that he was when he was with you, nodded. You slipped away without anyone noticing in the direction of the bathrooms where Bob knew there was a side door and he counted down the minutes until he got up. He handed his glass back to Penny and threw his peanuts away and then he was ambling out the door. He knew no one would mind if he slipped away since he usually did pretty early, but he really wasn’t worried tonight.
He found you leaning against his car door, nonchalantly, just like when you’d asked him to bed. Your coolness was definitely affecting his ability to think straight. As soon as he was next to you, you reached up to catch the back of his head with your hand and leaned in to kiss him. And Bob fucking melted.
It was the type of kiss he imagined in a rom com. Where neither of you cared about anyone seeing you and your focus was on each other instead. You may have gotten your hand in the short hair on the back of his neck, but his hands were roaming respectfully up and down your back as you pressed your hips against the car door.
“Unlock the car, Floyd.” you laughed, breaking the kiss. He groaned, eyes fluttering back open. His glasses were askew, but he wasn’t sure he cared. However, he did as you asked and unlocked his beat up old truck. You slipped around the back and hopped in and he did as well, knuckles clenched against the steering wheel. But silence and sexual tension filled the air as he made the quick fifteen minute drive back to his apartment.
“Nice place,” you murmured when he parked in the lot. And really, Bob was pretty proud of the one bedroom apartment he’d somehow commandeered at a decent price. The building itself looked nice on the outside and he’d tried to make the inside as homey as possible. The elevator ride was torture as he struggled to keep his hands to himself, but he wanted you in his place first away from potentially wandering eyes.
But back to the present, Bob had his leg between your thighs and his mouth trailed away from your lips towards the soft skin of your throat. He was careful not to leave any marks, at least not yet and not where anyone would be able to see. He did have ideas about marking up your hip bone or maybe even your breasts. Somewhere he’d know it was there and so would you, but that no one else would see or know about. Something to prove he’d been there, especially if this was the only time he’d get to take you home.
You moaned, a little breathless, as Bob trailed a kiss at the juncture of your jaw and your neck, the skin sensitive and he smiled against your skin.
“Quit teasing, Floyd.” you groaned, hauled him back up for a kiss and giving a particularly solid press against his thigh.
“Mhhmm,” he hummed against your lips. “I believe you said something about you, me, and a bed?”
“Correct, so take me to bed, Bob.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was setting you back against the wall before you could even take another breath and tugging you along to his bedroom near the back of his apartment, not even giving you any time to look around. Bob had one goal and one goal only right now; taking you however you’d let him right here and now.
You sat down on the edge of the bed, letting Bob settle between your thighs. That was when he realized that your mouth was right at the same level as his cock and by your smirk, he knew you were thinking the same thing. He didn’t stop you as your fingers trailed up his thighs, sending shivers down his spine and up and down his arms. Your hands didn’t stop there either. You were nimbly undoing his belt and pushing it to the sides. Then you were popping the button at the top and your fingertips brushed over the zipper. Bob groaned at the pressure.
It felt like an eternity passed as you slowly unzipped his jeans, millimeter by millimeter. But then your fingers reached the end of the zip and you were reaching over to shove his jeans down to his ankles. Finally, his cock was free of the confines of the jeans and he quickly stepped out of them, leaving himself in his grey boxers, the front of which were tenting spectacularly with a clear wet spot where the head was.
You didn’t look surprised. In fact, you looked quite smug as you stared at the bulge between his legs. And when you touched him through the thin fabric of his boxers, his hips jutted forward of their own accord. The smile stayed.
“I knew the boys’ locker room talk wasn’t false.” you murmured. Bob didn’t even have a chance to react to that particular statement before you were leaning forward and pressing an open mouthed kiss to that wet spot and right over the head. His eyes rolled back in his head. One finger trailed up his dick from the base to the tip and he jutted forward again. “So sensitive.”
“It’s been awhile.” Bob whispered, unsure of why he’d said it. Maybe you’d stop if you knew. He hoped you wouldn’t.
“Hmm, I can tell. You’re all jumpy.” Your voice was like honey as you repeated your actions and pressed another kiss through the material. He could feel your hot breath through the fabric. “You gonna let me suck you off? Been thinking about it for weeks.”
If Bob’s brain hadn’t broken already, this was going to be it. This was gonna be how he died.
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Yeah, I’ll let you.”
“Take these off. Wanna see you. You’ve been hiding from me.” you murmured, tapping his covered thigh and his stomach, indicating that you wanted his boxers and his t-shirt off. Bob did as you asked and you stood to take off your own shirt and pants. You were left in this simple set of black underwear that shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but it left Bob aching for more. The ache was obvious in the bob of his cock.
He’d always known you were beautiful. He’d seen it when you whipped off your shirt at the beach the one day Mav had taken you all down there for dogfight football at the start of their team’s bonding period. You’d been left in your sports bra and shorts and he’d nearly fallen over at the first glimpse of your stomach and breasts. He’d won the game for you, though he hadn’t said anything, and he’d been too shy to take off his own shirt to show off like the others had. But you weren’t with them tonight; you were with him.
Then you dropped to your knees. Bob’s eyes widened behind his glasses, his breath coming out in deep pants and you hadn’t even really touched him. He gulped as you shuffled forward and the back of his knees hit the wall beside his bed. You steadied him with your hands on his thighs and Bob struggled with where to put his hands. He wanted them in your hair, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted and he was completely at your mercy at the moment.
Like you knew exactly what he was thinking, you guided one of his hands to the back of your head and he almost smiled. Almost. Because then you had your hands on his cock for real this time, your warm hands pumping the delicate skin up and down his shaft in alternating motions. Bob whined and immediately clapped his other hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.
“Don’t do that.” you whispered, breath reaching the sensitive skin you were working, “Wanna hear you. Wanna hear what I’m doing to you.”
Bob’s head hit the wall. Because as soon as you stopped talking, you ran your tongue up his length. From his balls to the tip of his cock that was now flushed and angry and weeping so much precum he wasn’t sure he hadn’t come yet. Either you were really good at this or it had been longer than he’d thought. You weren’t finished.
You popped the head of his cock into your mouth and swirled your tongue around the tip, pressure surrounding the sensitive skin of his cock. He was panting now, one hand loose in your hair and the other pressing against the wall beside him. One of your hands was still pumping him while the other held the tip steady so you could really take him. And take him you did.
Bob groaned, a guttural sound, as you leaned forward and took a few inches of him into the warm confines of your mouth. The slide of your tongue against the underside of his dick felt heavenly.
“Oh my god.” he groaned, focusing on the feeling of your mouth. This was the best blowjob of his life, by far. “Shit.”
You pulled off him for a moment and Bob almost whined at the loss of contact with your mouth until the most sinful of words was escaping your mouth.
“You can fuck my mouth, Floyd. I won’t break.” The hand you’d been pumping his cock with lifted up to touch the hand he had tangled in your hair and you nodded up at him. He’d barely registered that when you took him in your mouth again and this time, you didn’t let up until the head was bumping the back of your throat. The pressure was insane.
“Jesus, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” Bob groaned, hand tightening in your hair. He could feel you hum around him and his cock twitched at the sound. If you kept this up, he wasn’t going to last very long. He kept his hand firmly in your hair as you worked in a rhythm of blowing him, bobbing your pretty head in front of him. “I’m close.”
You pulled off again and he did whine. “That’s fine. I’m not finished with you yet.”
This time, you moved your hand to gently circle his balls and he felt them tightening up before he was really ready. When you sucked him back down your throat and dragged a nail down the center of his balls, it was game over. He shattered, hand in your hair and the other one against his abs as he cried out, hips stuttering into your mouth shallowly while you swallowed his release. When you pulled off, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and smiled softly up at him.
“Fuck,” he whined, “didn’t mean to finish so fast. Haven’t even touched you. Wanna touch you.”
“Yeah?” you murmured, voice hoarsened by what you’d just done. Bob hauled you up from the floor and dragged you to the bed. You let him. He ended up on top of you, completely naked and between your thighs. “You been thinking about touching me, Floyd?”
“So much.” Bob trailed a finger from the bottom edge of your bra down to the top edge of your panties and pressed a kiss just above your naval. You shivered at the contact. “Thought about worshipping between your legs and fucking you in the locker room.”
“I never thought you’d have it in you.” You grinned wickedly and pulled him down for a kiss. “What else did you think about?”
“Thought about making out with you at the Hard Deck and showing the guys who you belong to. Wanted to take my time with you and fuck you slow and steady here in my bed.” Bob punctuated that particular sentence with a slow thrust of his hips against your core and was rewarded with a whine of his own from your lips. He may have just gotten off five minutes before, but he was already growing again and he knew he’d be ready for another round as soon as he made his fantasies a reality.
“So why don’t you?” you asked, looking him dead in the eyes.
“You gonna let me take my time between your legs. Touch you here?” Bob murmured, trailing his finger between the seam of your legs now and your hips jumped.
“Yeah, yeah, I’d let you.”
“Good.” He took his time holding himself up with his knees and one hand as he leaned in to kiss you. He should’ve felt disgusted tasting himself on your lips, but somehow it was hot as sin and he groaned into your mouth. Two seconds later, his hand was on your back, unclipping your bra with just one hand. You gasped into his mouth in surprise. He smiled.
Then he was leaning back on his knees and pulling your bra off, tossing it over his shoulder. You laughed and helped him take off your underwear. Bob’s voice grew quiet as he looked over your body, completely bare in front of him for the first time. You didn’t seem self conscious as you lazily looked him over, waiting to see what he would do next.
Bob shuffled down the bed and ran his hands down the tops of your thighs, slowly spreading your legs so he could see exactly what he’d been dreaming about for months. He wasn’t disappointed. Your center winked at him, clenching and unclenching in a fluttery motion. He drew his thumb from your clit to your center, then traced your folds gently. Your hips jumped away from the gentle touch.
“Sensitive?” he asked, grinning from his space between your legs. You shot him a glare.
“Quit teasing, Bob, or I’m getting up and leaving your ass here. That’s twice in one night and my patience is growing thin.”
“I’ve got you.” He settled down, hips to the bed and came face to face with your pussy. He blew on it gently and was rewarded with a groan as you clenched again on nothing. “So pretty.”
The first kiss he placed to the skin of your inner left thigh, just next to where you wanted him. He followed up quickly with another kiss to your right thigh. Then, he felt your hand on the top of his head. Finally, he drew his tongue from the bottom of your channel up to the top and swirled his tongue in firm pressure around your clit. Your resounding whine gave him confidence as he held your hips steady and started eating you like a man starved.
He didn’t just eat you. He worshipped you. Just like he said he would. He drew patterns against your clit and your folds, alternating pressure and sucking on that sensitive button every once and awhile just to make you squirm in his hands. Soon, you were gasping and pulling on his hair, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He ground his hips into the bed, fully hard again as he drew you closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.
“Oh my god,” you whined, voice hitting a new pitch the closer you got to your orgasm. Bob used that moment to introduce two fingers and he pressed upwards with them in a new motion that had you keening. He smiled and started rubbing his thumb in deliberate circles over your clit. “‘M close!”
“I know.” he replied simply and replaced his thumb with his mouth, applying a gentle suction that had you crashing around his fingers and whining his name. He kept up with his thrusts, letting you ride out the aftershocks and you quickly yanked on his hair to pull him away due to the overstimulation.
“C’mere.” you gasped, pulling him up for a kiss. He obliged and kissed you, tongue delving deep to dance with yours. It was filthy and it was perfect. You broke away. “Need you inside me. Right now. I’ve waited long enough.”
Bob nodded and climbed off of you to get a condom from the box he kept in his drawer. It was for emergencies like this one, though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d grabbed one. He ripped one of the foil packets open and rolled it on and you pulled him over you yet again.
Your legs were wrapped around his hips, heels digging into his ass as you tried to pull him into you. Bob remained steady and held himself up over you, his strength surprising you.
“What’re you waiting for?” you whined, reaching between your legs. Bob stopped you, pulling back.
“I said I wanted to take my time with you.” he murmured, reaching down to run the head of his cock up and down your slit. The juices coated his tip quickly and you groaned.
“Fuck that. I want you to fuck me.” you said firmly, staring directly up at him. Bob smiled and leaned down to kiss you. And then he drove his hips home in one solid thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your body rushed to accommodate his length. Because Bob was long and just the right thickness to slightly rearrange your insides. Your moan was long and drawn out against his mouth and he hurried to kiss you again.
He hadn’t moved after that first thrust, letting your cunt adjust to the beating he was about to give it. But then you were pressing your heels against him again and nodding for him to move, and how could he say no?
Bob pulled out until just the tip was inside you and drove in again, stealing another moan from your lips. He continued that pace for a while until he felt you clenching around him and started thrusting even deeper and harder. Your leg shifted just enough that he was able to slide the last of his dick into your channel and the whine you gave him was like music to his ears as he panted into your neck.
Just from the way you were squeezing him, he could tell that you were nearly there and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last either. Being inside you was even more heavenly than being in your mouth and his hips started to stutter the closer he got to his own orgasm. You reached between your legs to touch your clit, but Bob swatted your hand away and reached down to touch you himself. His thumb drew firm circles and soon you were clenching again, crying out. Bob leaned in to kiss you again, swallowing those pretty sounds and reaching his own crescendo between your thighs.
He pulled out and flopped over beside you, settling your body against his.
“That was good, Floyd.” you murmured, head resting on his chest where his heart was nearly beating out of his ribcage. Bob drew his hand over your hair and smiled.
“Yeah, it was,” he said quietly. “Do you wanna shower?”
“You joining?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Please. I’m not sure my legs will work.” you sighed and Bob laughed. He shouldn’t have, but it felt right and he was rewarded with your own sleepy giggle.
“C’mon, let’s get you showered. You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in.”
“M’kay.” you murmured sleepily and allowed him to pull you into the bathroom. He turned on the showerhead and gathered two pairs of his boxers along with an oversized shirt for you.
“Hope you don’t mind. I usually just sleep in my boxers.” He shrugged and set his glasses on the bathroom counter.
“I don’t mind.” you hummed, stepping into the shower. Bob stepped in behind you, being careful to always stay within reach of your body. You were right. Your legs were a bit wobbly from the position you’d put yourself in during sex, but you weren’t upset about it. It was a good ache.
Bob handed you a washcloth and poured some sort of botanical smelling soap on it, letting you clean yourself while he did the same thing to his own body. And that’s when you really, really looked at him. Bob was toned. You knew he had to be in order to maintain the rigorous PT standards you had to follow, but he was more toned than you expected and you drew your hand over his abs.
“Why do you hide all this with those shirts all the time?” you asked softly, standing in the spray of the shower. Bob squinted at you and shrugged.
“I don’t really care to show off. It’s not my nature.” he answered, and that was that. The rest of the shower was quiet, but filled with soft kisses and wandering hands. It was a miracle you ended up outside the shower, dressed and not in it going for another round. You wanted to, but you knew you were too tired and you weren’t sure Bob’s body could handle yet another orgasm in the space of an hour.
He handed you an extra toothbrush and you brushed your teeth sleepily, ready to crash. It was only when you were in bed beside him, alarms set for him to drive you home in the morning before work that he broke the silence.
“Are we gonna talk about what this means?” Bob asked quietly. Timidly. Scared of the answer.
“In the morning. Right now I just want you to hold me.” you murmured, slipping closer to his side. He reached around your body to spoon you, settling in the gap you’d both made. And you would.
Maybe you’d tell him about your feelings besides the lust-filled ones you’d shared tonight. And maybe he’d tell you he’d dreamed of far more than just sleeping with you. But that could be said in the daylight.
Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.
Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,
Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible.
He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell, he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that. He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar.
So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop?
All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing.
He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one.
Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that.
That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him.
Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door. You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves.
And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.
“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine.
“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes.
But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night.
This was bad.
“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.
The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work.
“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck.
“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room.
"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke.
"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down.
"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday. It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you.
But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship.
So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough.
But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote.
The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and-
he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and-
Oh God he was hard. Oh no.
This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it.
But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans.
Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows.
He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.
Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink.
What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious.
His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make your own family.
Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.
School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath.
Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly.
He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then.
“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”
“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different.
The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-
Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together.
“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch.
Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts.
It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed.
“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse.
“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen.
For a few seconds, the supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach.
Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen.
But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point.
“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect.
“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life.
“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through.
“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”
You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow.
The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn.
"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.
"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-"
"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen.
The words hit Bob like a freight train.
"What? Why would you-"
You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?”
You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?"
Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you.
The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him.
Oh god, he was a fucking idiot.
The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant.
“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.
You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”
“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”
“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other.
Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.”
The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up.
“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?”
His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it.
The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”
Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?”
You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his.
Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone.
The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again.
You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap.
A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk.
Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true.
“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more.
“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest.
Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass.
Wait, he was about to touch your ass.
“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face.
“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?
“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”
Bless his heart.
Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”
Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.”
His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes.
“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core.
“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty.
“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck?
Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams-
“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open.
Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.”
A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings.
Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face.
“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating).
Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life.
There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you.
His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd?
Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?
“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement.
“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully.
Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control.
“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath.
You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.
His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side.
Fuck, you were wet.
If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream.
When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time.
With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure.
Wait, was he grinding against the couch?
The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud.
His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening.
“Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.
Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now.
You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority.
“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even.
“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you.
“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you.
“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.”
Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you.
Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons.
Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock.
His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-”
“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter.
Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it.
“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more.
By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before.
“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch.
How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait.
“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans.
Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected.
Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion.
“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words.
“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.”
Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob.
Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience.
“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”
“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?
There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans.
Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving.
Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”
Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton.
“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest.
“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment.
Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you.
So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."
Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.
guess what? a pt. 2: [ curiosity killed the hangman ]
includes: smut 18+, fem!reader, abs riding, doggy style, mating press(?) but not really, creampie, praise.
+
sometimes, you really wanted to shove a sock down hangman’s throat just so he could shut the fuck up for once.
you had enough of him bullying your poor wso. robert floyd was a ray of sunshine—how jake managed to terrorize him day and night had you beat. he always shot bob down, making sleazy comments about his appearance or his nerdiness. he’d claim it was all in good fun, but you couldn’t tolerate his behavior anymore.
of course, sweet bob never complained. he took hangman’s torment all with an easy stride and an adorable smile; the right corner of his lips curling up in a way that was just so bob. even when jake made a particularly demeaning comment about bob’s sex life—the joke honing in on the lack thereof—bob just pursed his lips together and gave a nod. however, he did have his moments when he’d sass back at hangman—phoenix’s influence, no doubt—but still, you wanted hangman to eat his words.
so you came up with a plan.
you always had a thing for bob, you won’t deny it. but you figured he was the type to have a wife and 2 kids back in lemoore that he just never spoke about, according to rooster’s teasing, at least. so you never asked, never made a move—partially too scared to find out if it was true.
until now.
you knocked three times on the door of his quarters, which just so happened to be right next door to hangman…how convenient.
bob opened his door and you didn’t miss the way his eyes slightly widened behind those glasses. “oh, uh…hi?” he greeted, clearly confused by your unannounced visit. you don’t blame him.
“hi, bob. mind if i come in?” you asked nicely with a smile.
his eyebrows arched up slightly but he found himself opening the door wider to let you in, “no, c’mon in…” he said, albeit his tone was hesitant.
you thanked him and stepped inside. your eyes swept around the humble-sized room. the room’s setup was identical to yours and everyone else’s, but you admired the subtle ways bob tried to fill in the sterile cracks with pieces of home—from posters to picture frames, and even a crocheted throw pillow that you assumed either his mom or grandmother made for him.
“did you want to talk about my performance today or…?” bob tentatively asked as he closed the door behind you.
your gaze landed on a framed photo of bob and a small child. shit, that certainly ruins things. maybe you shouldn’t go through with this pla—
“my niece,” he mentioned when he noticed your drawn attention to the image.
you let out a mental sigh of relief.
“she’s cute,” you said truthfully. “got any kids of your own?” you needed to ask.
bob’s bespectacled eyes widened at that before quickly shaking his head, “oh, no no. no kids, no wife, n-nothing like that.”
you nodded, more to yourself than to him.
you took a step back from the picture frame and faced him, “i didn’t come in here to discuss your performance in flight today, bob.” you told him.
you saw the way his eyebrows knitted together in a small furrow. fuck, that shouldn’t have gotten you clenching on nothing, but it did.
“then why—“
you cut him off by pressing your lips to his, your hands snaking up to hold the back of his neck. bob’s entire body froze for a moment, and before he could get the chance to reciprocate, you pulled away just enough to murmur against his pink lips:
“stop me if you don’t want this.”
bob sucked in a breath, “i want this.”
you bit down on a smile before leaning in to kiss him again. this time, he reacted and actually kissed back. you let out a surprised moan when he quickly swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, greedily intruding his tongue to tangle with yours.
it wasn’t long before you found yourself tumbling backwards onto his bed. his strong arms caged you between the mattress and himself, you stared up at him in awe. his dog tags hung low and you were so tempted to just pull him by the chain, but before you could, bob was lifting his old naval academy tshirt off and tossing it somewhere in the room.
your jaw dropped. hidden underneath layers and layers of military issued flight suits and raggedy cotton tees was the relic of a roman fighter’s torso. those washboard abs—kept perfectly tucked away from the eyes of your squad; concealed and covered so masterfully—it pierced like an act of betrayal, tasted like beach salt on the days he’d worn a tshirt during your team building football games.
“i want to ride your abs.” the words left your eager lips before you had the time to regret them; it shocked you, the unabashed need in your tone.
bob blinked down at you before he smiled that damned smile, right corner of his lips tugging upwards. “yeah, pretty?”
you moaned at the pet name, your core, once again, clenching around nothing. you liked being called pretty by bob, it felt fitting, like him calling you by anything else was wrong.
he picked you up easily and moved you to straddle his torso. his hands found purchase on your hips, his nimble fingers working quickly to lift your shirt up; his eyes silently asking for your permission.
you helped him take your shirt off, throwing it to join his discarded tshirt on the floor. bob let out a groan at the sight of your bare chest, you mentally patted yourself on the back for choosing to go without a bra.
“been hiding these from me?” he asked as he reached up to squeeze your tits, his thumbs making quick work of rolling your nipples.
you let out a sinful sounding whimper, leaning into his touch. “only fair…you’ve been hiding these from me,” you replied, punctuating your words with an experimental rut against his abs. the friction from your bottoms only made it feel better.
bob grunted, “take ‘em off,” his command was weak when his voice faltered with desperate need, but you found it all the more arousing.
you tugged your pants down and kicked them off, another garment appending to the floor. you rubbed against his abs again, this time the feeling was much more intense, the thin material of your panties being the only barrier between you and him.
bob let out a curse, “you’re wet, i can feel it.” he said, and he wasn’t wrong. you’ve soaked through the cotton of your underwear, shamelessly dragging yourself over his abs in repetitive motions.
his hands met the plush of your ass and helped you move over him, “need you to cum at least once before i bury myself inside you.”
and they say romance is dead.
with his guide, you ground your heat against him. your pussy weeping through the slick fabric of your underwear, so much so that bob lifted your hips up to tear them off and away to the growing collection of clothes by the foot of his bed.
when your skin first made contact with the cool surface of his abs, you thought you touched heaven. you let out the whiniest moan you ever heard yourself make before losing yourself in the throes of your pleasure, wantonly rubbing your core along the ridges of his well-defined ab muscles.
“shit, if i knew you could sound like that, i would’ve gone shirtless a long time ago,” bob commented as he watched you climb up the edge of ecstasy.
your hands laid flat on his pecs as you kept working yourself on him, borderline humping his abs as you grew closer to your peak, your volume only getting higher.
“look so perfect, look like you belong there, just grinding on my abs.” he spoke as he stared at the remarkable scene in front of him. “like it was made for you to sit on.”
his words were getting to you, making your cunt drool all over his lower abdomen, slick finding home in the valleys between his muscles. you tossed your head back, “ah! bob!”
“i bet you’re getting close, huh?”
you nodded frantically. “uhuh, gonna cum for you.”
he smiled, “i’d like nothing more than that, pretty.”
and you were a goner. one loud cry of his name later and you were panting, collapsing onto his chest. you could feel the obvious puddle you had left on his abs, not realizing you came so hard and released so much. bob didn’t seem to mind, though. he simply rubbed your back gently as you tried to catch your breath.
“how’re you feeling?” he murmured softly.
“like i want you inside me,” you answered.
bob let out a small chuckle, “insatiable, aren’t you?”
you shook your head as you lifted yourself up with wobbly arms, “no, i just know what i want.”
and who was he to deny you of that?
bob maneuvered your limp body, pressing your face down on the mattress and hiking your ass up for him. you wanted to object—reason with him that you wanted to see his face, but the moment he slipped his thick cock into your welcoming heat, any words of protest died on your tongue.
“fuck, you’re sucking me in,” he muttered roughly.
you could only whine into the sheets as he bottomed out inside of you. his grip on your hair loosened a bit and you managed to shift your head to catch a glimpse of him. he looked absolutely delectable. if he wasn’t busy stuffing his cock inside you, you might’ve begged him to fuck your throat just so you could see that pretty face of his.
your eyes rolled to the back of your skull with the way he was thrusting into you, his pace deliciously rough enough to excite you but frustratingly gradual enough to make you needy. what a tease.
“should’ve came to me sooner, princess. would’ve treated this pretty pussy so good if you only asked,” bob breathed out. you didn’t know he could speak so filthily; you felt yourself grow wetter.
you moaned, “didn’t know you—ah!—wanted me,” you squeaked out.
he let out a groan, his eyebrows furrowing together from where you could see. “you kidding me? i dreamed of this; dreamed of you clenching ‘round me and crying my name.”
and you did just that.
he let out a string of curses.
“oh, princess, i’m gonna cum.” he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
you lifted your head up from his bed, “wanna see you, please,” you pleaded.
he flipped you over in no time, pushing you down on your back and holding your legs up against your chest, his dick slipping back into you like it was returning home.
you could finally see his face, notice the way he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, the bead of sweat running down the vein on his forehead, and the shakiness of his fogged up glasses as it slipped down the bridge of his beautiful nose.
he met your heated gaze and that was his fatal mistake. you let out a gasp, feeling the warmth of his cum fill you up. a shiver went down your spine.
“fuck, sorry! ‘m so sorry, i didn’t mean to—you just look so fucking hot,” bob rushed to say as he pistoned into you so fervently to ride out his high.
you didn’t know you could get off from just his babbling and relentless thrusts. with a cry that ripped through your lungs, you came around his cock, your vision blacked out momentarily as you felt yourself ascend to the peaks of your pleasure.
bob slumped against you, being mindful not to crush you under his weight. you both panted as you tried to come down from your highs. you reached up and took his glasses off his face, allowing him to nuzzle into the crook of your neck and leave an array of delicate kisses along your damp skin.
“did that feel good for you?” he asked so tenderly against your neck.
you could only nod, words would only fail you.
you couldn’t wait to see the look on hangman’s face tomorrow during the morning debrief. you’re confident he won’t be making another snarky remark about bob’s game now that the sound of your voice screaming his name is probably engraved in his head.
Summary: Bob’s innocent attempt to help you cool off in the middle of a heatwave gets a little out of control.
Word count: 2.4k
Tags and warnings: Smut (not super explicit), fluff, slightly dom!Bob (he's a little more confident at least), reader and Bob are married, no pronouns for reader, no use of Y/N. 18+! Minors, please do not interact!
(I didn't intend to write so many Bob Floyd fics, but @getaapologist keeps filling my head with such good ideas. Plus he's such a sweetheart, how can I not write for him?)
Bob Floyd Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || Taglist
The heat wave was supposed to last three days, four tops. At least that's what the weather reporter had promised, with his bright suit and cheery grin. You'd clung to his every word with desperate, clammy hands.
It's been a week of non-stop sunshine. You're fairly certain you've sunk into the seventh circle of Hell.
Getting anything done feels impossible, but the worst part of all has been trying to sleep. You can afford to lose a few hours now and again, but this is ridiculous. You're hot, irritable and sweating in places you weren't aware you could sweat from.
And then there's Bob. Your dear, sweet husband who runs as hot as a furnace and clings to you like a leech in his sleep.
Tonight is the worst night so far. Every night's been the worst, but you really mean it this time. The fan gave up the ghost a few hours ago, and the air conditioning's been acting up to the point where you don't trust it enough to run right now, so your only options are to kick half your pyjamas off and leave the window open, where the humid, still air provides no relief whatsoever.
You've given up trying to get comfortable, and have resorted to sitting slumped against the headboard with your legs splayed out over the covers. You're miserable.
"Can't sleep?" comes Bob's voice from somewhere beside you.
All of your frustrated huffing and puffing clearly wasn't as quiet as you had thought.
You shake your head, before croaking out a "no" when you realise he can't see you.
His palm grazes your side, and you instinctively wriggle away from him.
"Don't, I'm all gross and sweaty," you complain.
Bob only presses himself closer. "Not gross," he murmurs, placating. "Never gross."
You feel like the living embodiment of a swamp monster, and he thinks you're beautiful. Hell, you could be a literal swamp monster and Bob would still think the same. He's seen you ill, hungover, sleep-deprived - it doesn't matter, you're always perfect to him.
The bed creaks quietly as he sits up.
"Be right back," he says softly, dropping a kiss on your shoulder as he goes.
You bite back a smile as you listen to him fumble around in the dark for the door handle. Soft footsteps retreat down the hall. You assume he's going to the bathroom, and focus your attention on trying to get rid of this horrible, sticky feeling that clings to every inch of you.
The covers are completely on the floor by the time Bob comes back. You've given up. There's no point. You're destined to be hot and miserable forever.
A sharp yelp escapes you as cold suddenly touches the back of your neck.
"Sorry, I should've warned you," comes Bob's sheepish voice.
All too quickly, your overheated skin grows used to it, and you push yourself closer. God, it feels good.
"Did you know we had ice packs in the back of the fridge? I'd completely forgotten about them."
The mattress dips as Bob climbs back into bed. He sits behind you, ice pack still pressed to your neck. This is what heaven must be like.
His free hand drops to your lower back. "Can I?"
You don't even know what he's asking for, but you agree anyway. He could ask for every penny you own and you'd say yes.
Fingers inch under the hem of your shirt, slowly, carefully. Now that you've cooled down a bit, his touch is nice. Welcome. You don't stop him as he keeps going, up, up, until he reaches the tops of your shoulders. A groan slips from you as the ice pack touches the centre of your back.
Bob laughs to himself. "Any better?"
"Uh-huh," you manage to mumble.
You could kiss him. In fact, you're going to kiss him. You turn your head, pressing your lips to whatever part of his face is closest. His jaw, you think.
"You doing okay? I've got another one for your front if you need it."
He needs to stop being so sweet, it's driving you crazy.
"That'd be amazing."
While he's distracted, you turn yourself around, seating yourself in his lap. The ice pack almost falls out of his hands.
"Wait- What are you doing?" he stammers.
You wind your arms around his neck, kissing the tip of his nose.
"Can you do it for me?" you ask. "You'd be so much better at it."
You're laying it on a little thick, and Bob's by no means stupid, but he also preens under any kind of praise from you.
You hear him smile, and you know you've got him. Every time, without fail. When he moves your shirt this time, he's more delicate in his approach. Even though you've given him permission, he doesn't want you to think he's taking advantage. As if you ever would.
You press your hands over his, gently urging him on. Hoping he'll take the hint. Thankfully he does, and you hear his little intake of breath as he reaches your sternum. You let out a contented hum as the cloying heat gives way to something more much bearable. The fog of misery you've been stuck in over the past week is lifting. You feel a bit more like yourself again.
And someone deserves a reward for his hard work, you think. Slowly, you move your hips against his. Not too much, just enough to get his attention. And boy does it. His hands slip, and he almost loses the ice pack again.
"You okay?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He's doing a terrible job of it.
"More than okay," you reply, brushing your nose against his. Not missing the way his breath hitches. "You're amazing, you know that?"
He huffs a laugh, and even in the dark, you can tell he's starting to blush. He's so predictable. It's one of the many things you love about him.
"It's nothing, I just wanted to make you more comfortable," he says.
Always so humble. Can't take a compliment without a fight. It's a good thing you're stubborn.
"And you know better than anyone how much I've been struggling with this damn heat," you tell him, insistent that he listen to you. "I feel like I could actually sleep tonight."
You press yourself closer to him, your mouth at his ear. It's hard to ignore how he's already squirming under you. You adore him like this.
"Well, maybe not right now…"
He swallows, a heavy exhale of breath quickly following. You probably shouldn't tease him too much — he'd tell you it's mean. But it's hard to stop yourself when his reactions are this cute.
"Not right now," he echoes.
You're not sure if he's agreeing with you or trying to process what you said, but then his hand finds the small of your back, and suddenly it feels as though you're both very much on the same page.
Bob cradles the side of your face against his palm, trying to maneouvre the ice pack from your front to the back of your neck. Even with you fully seated in his lap, he's still trying to help. You picked good, you know you did.
With the cold drifting down your back, peeling away the lingering heat, you're finding it harder and harder not to focus all of your attention on your sweetheart of a husband, who, in spite of all his selflessness, is clearly struggling with having you where you are right now.
You keep yourself steady, your mouth hovering mere millimetres from his. He has far more patience than you at the best of times, but you want to see him break before you do. You need this.
"Sweetheart," he murmurs, and a quick shiver runs through you as his lips graze yours.
There's a slight edge to his tone — one you know well. It's not often that you hear it, but when you do, it's like music to your ears. The perfectly neat and put together exterior is beginning to crack. His patience is wearing thin.
But it's not enough. You grind your hips down against him, still light enough to pretend it was an accident. And the sound that escapes him then — an honest to God whimper — makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.
"Yeah?" you reply, feigning total innocence. "What?"
He clicks his tongue, and it's impossible to hold back your smile. He's so fun to play with.
"You know what," he all but huffs.
You almost feel bad for him. Almost.
Maybe one more little push.
"Do I?" you ask.
You'd bat your eyelashes at him if you knew he could see it.
The ice pack falls, all but forgotten as it hits the mattress. He takes your face in his hands, dragging you into a hard kiss. Finally. Now that you've gotten what you wanted, there's really no point in playing coy anymore. You kiss him back, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt until he gets the hint. He pulls away for a second, yanking it off and throwing it aside before diving back in to kiss you again.
"Can't keep teasing me like that," he murmurs between kisses.
He grips your thighs, tugging you up onto your knees.
"Take these off."
You're clearly not in control anymore, and you couldn't be happier. This is exactly what you wanted, and he fell for it. Always does.
You just about manage to wrestle yourself out of his hold long enough to pull your underwear off before he's dragging you right back again. There's no ignoring the all too obvious effect you've had on him.
"Need some help?" you ask, walking your fingers along the waistband of his boxers.
He lets out a breath through his nose. "That depends," he replies tightly. "Are you done teasing?"
"Cross my heart," you promise, a bit too earnestly.
He clearly isn't buying it, if his quiet laugh is any indication. He does his best to wrestle them down as far as they need to go. You're tempted to "help" — rile him up more — but you're caught between getting what you want and pushing Bob a little more. Not too much, just enough to keep testing his patience. There's something about how he gets when he's frustrated like that…If you're completely honest, it's kind of hot.
He finds your hips, pulling you flush against him. It's difficult to keep your hands to yourself at the best of times, but now? When you can feel all of that lean muscle he tries so hard to hide? Downright impossible.
"Hey," he calls, grabbing your wrists to bring your focus back to him.
His hold on you is light — enough for you to squeeze free from if you needed — but the implication of it, knowing how strong he is, that he could throw you down on the bed and hold you there-
"You still with me?" he asks, his voice softening.
You feel dizzy. And for the first time this week, it's not from the heat.
"Mm-hm," is all you can manage. It's the best you can do. Thankfully, it's enough of an answer for him.
"You gonna finish what you started?"
Heat pools in your stomach, worse than before. This isn't fair. How can he be so sweet and kind and hot all at the same time?
A sudden noise outside drags you back to reality for a second.
"Wait, let me close the window-"
No sooner have the words left your mouth when he's tightening his grip.
"Leave it," he murmurs.
Bob's hardly an exhibitionist — even a quick kiss in public leaves him blushing — so you must really have him in a bad way.
"But what if someone hears us?" you whisper.
"We'll just have to be quiet then, won't we?" he counters, and the way he says it — his tone so casual, bordering on teasing — it might feel almost out of character for him, but you know him, maybe better than anyone else.
This side of Bob is hard to find, but when you are able to shake it loose, it's always worth the effort. You know it's only a matter of time before he starts second-guessing himself, though, and that's the last thing you want. You kiss him again, hoping he'll take the hint that you still want this as much as you did before.
And God does he ever. Just the first press of him into you has you clapping your hand over your mouth to stifle the obscene noise threatening to push past your lips. Even in the state you've left him in, he's still so careful with you, letting you set the pace as you slowly sink down onto him.
"That's it, honey, you're doing so well," he murmurs, his voice low and hushed.
He keeps going like that, murmuring praise in your ear as he holds you close. You're not sure which one of you is moving anymore, all you know that you might cry if it stops.
You've needed this all week and you had no idea — to be pulled out of your own head like this, completely distracted from everything. It's perfect.
Bob's head thumps lightly against your shoulder, his grip tightening on you. He's close, you can tell. He always gives himself away. But you're hardly any better. It's not long before he's tumbling over that edge, but he makes sure to push you over first. Always does.
It's a little later, when you're both trying to catch your breath that that gross, sweaty feeling starts to creep over you again.
"I dunno why I thought that was a good idea," you mumble against his shoulder. "I think I'm even hotter than I was before."
"You're always hot," comes Bob's immediate reply.
You weakly slap his arm, and he just laughs.
"Cold shower might help?" he suggests.
You lift your head then. "You can't be serious, we just-"
"No, no, I didn't mean like that- I just thought- Y'know, it might cool you down."
Even through that tiny layer of nerves, he sounds so sincere. He never seems to stop putting you first.
"Okay, fine. You've convinced me."
You wriggle free from his arms, earning you a huff for your efforts, and stumble out of bed. Your legs haven't quite recovered yet.
"But no funny business, got it?" you tell him, making your way out the door to the bathroom.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he replies earnestly, following after you.
That lasts about all of ten minutes. It's a good thing neither of you have work in the morning.
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