Reblogged
Licking my fucking screen
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hiiii!! i love ur work baby💖💖💖 i have a request:
rafe maybe walking in on reader masturbating? walls are thin, (maybe they’re roommates) and he just can’t take it anymoreee. bonus points: you said his name and he heard you. bonus bonus points: he whimpers at some point/praises you
sorry if this is too much, i’ve never done anything like this before !!! love you xxx
wait… rafe whimpering bc you fuck him up so good
———————————————
it’s summer vacation. two in the morning, hot as all fuck in outer banks, north carolina. you’d expect your a/c to work miraculously well for what you pay for rent each month. except it’s just another sleepless thursday night for you.
it’s pathetic, really, of how much your roommate — rafe fucking cameron — plagues your every waking thought. no matter what time of day, your mind always drifts to the smug asshole.
it doesn’t help your sleep schedule either.
almost every night for the past few weeks, carnal thoughts and fantasies invade your mind, allowing you to chase that same white-hot pleasure before you fall asleep.
and it happens again. you stare up at your ceiling, skin damp from the heat slipping in from the outside, but also of the fantasies that take up your brain.
you close your eyes and allow your mind to wander; rafe’s hands roaming your skin, rafe kissing up and down your neck, rafe’s ridiculously buff biceps and forearms, rafe shirtless, rafe.
which have all led you to the position you’re in now: naked, legs spread, your favorite rabbit vibrator currently fucking in and out of your dripping pussy.
you whine softly and your hips twitch down automatically onto the vibrator. you grind and hump onto the toy as you think of rafe under you, thinking about grinding your clit down onto his stomach as you ride him.
you choke out a sob as you fuck yourself faster. your free hand trailing over your breasts and teasing your nipples, pinching and tugging on them as the hand on your toy speeds up, a wet squelch! sounding out at every thrust.
you imagine rafe behind you in this moment, blowing your back out. you imagine rafe resting his chin on your shoulder, reaching a hand up to wrap around your throat, looking down onto you as you fuck yourself silly against the sheets.
you imagine rafe chastising you quietly into your ear.
“so pent up that you gotta have me fucking you while you grind on the sheets.”
“gonna get the sheets messy, huh? gonna soak it because it feels too good?”
“come on. fuck it like you mean it, baby.”
“hey, are you okay—”
you furrow your eyebrows a bit because what the hell that last one doesn’t fit into your fantasy correctly.
you open your eyes in a fit of confusion and you gasp in horror. your fucking roommate is standing in your doorway looking just as shocked as you are.
“rafe! what the — what are you doing? get out of my room!” you say scrambling to cover yourself with your bedsheets. you’re horrified and horny and sweating and you’re fucking dripping and rafe is fucking shirtless and only sporting gray fucking sweats and it’s fucking two-thirty in the morning.
he closes his eyes in a long blink and raises his hands up in a surrender.
“hey, look. the walls are thin and i thought you were actually in trouble with your gasping and shit,” he says giving you a look. “but seeing as you’re good, go back to doing yourself.” he finishes with a smirk and he turns to leave.
and, look. maybe you’re going mental and with everything going on at that moment in time, you aren’t thinking clearly. truthfully, you aren’t. which is why your mouth speaks before your brain can stop it.
“wait,” you say. “don’t… leave.” you sigh out pathetically. and You definitely just signed your death wish.
because five minutes later? rafe is under you and fucking up into your slopping pussy.
“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you whine out. you’re laying chest-to-chest with rafe, your face tucked into his neck while his hands are gripping your waist as he fucks into you.
“jeeesus, baby.” he groans. his balls slap against you, his cock hitting your sweet-spot dead on each drive inside you.
you mewl at the feeling of his hands on your waist and the size of him splitting you open, causing you to clench down on him and humping his stomach.
and you freeze.
because rafe fucking cameron whimpers.
as you clenched down onto him, the sound slithered out of the back of his throat so carnally, and it sounded so pathetic.
“so good, you feel so fucking good.” he lets out another fucking whimper, pounding into you faster, harsher. he removes his hands from your waist and wraps them around your lower back, almost as if he’s giving you a hug.
he’s losing it. every moan is followed by a small whimper and you fucking smile. oh, you’re never gonna let him live this down. your smile is replaced by your mouth dropping open and your entire body going on lockdown, orgasm creeping in on you out of fucking no where.
“ray — rafe, so close. please. ‘m gonna come.” wet plap! noises, your moans and whines, and his whimpers and groans sound through your room. it’s heady and carnal and so fucking good.
“shit, shit, shit.” rafe’s voice breaks on the last word into a sinful whine. your entire body whites out, your body trembling around his, your walls clamping down onto his cock. your orgasm blinds you and you don’t think you’ll ever experience this feeling again.
rafe comes as you do, fucking harshly but slowly in and out of your pussy. he grunts and whimpers each time he fucks into you, trails of his cum dripping down his cock only to disappear inside of you when he pushes back in.
and yeah.
a man who whimpers is a man who will be wrapped around your goddamn finger.
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First, Last, and Everything Between - Part IV
(Bob Floyd x F!Reader)
CW: Angst (minor disagreement, insecurity, past bad sexual experiences); smut (talk of sex acts, oral sex, f!receiving). 18+ only.
Word Count: 3485
AN: This is part of a larger mini-series, found here.
The progression with Bob stutters for a few days.
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killing me softly | 27
K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->
✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama
✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinker!reader (f)
✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, SUGGESTIVE LANGUAGE & THEMES, SEXUAL TENSION, both high on edibles (in all seriousness, pls be cautious about this shit!!!), angsty, hints at a panic attack, CHEESY AND CRINGE AT SOME POINT BUT LEMME, description of arousal, implied teenager sex / power imbalance (flashback only)
✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿
while rafe and you went shopping for the sleepover, you posted stories and had a little banter + rafe paid for the whole haul. rafe promised himself he wouldn't have sex with you tonight bc he wanted to be a gentleman and also he felt like you deserved better. in the car, he lashed out mildly at you bc of sarah's snooping but he quickly apologized for his temper. he also accidentally admitted his multiple solo sessions were tied to missing you. awkwardly, you deflected it and admitted you'd missed him too. on the yacht, he teared up over your personalized and nostalgic setup. you went through all the gifts except one. afterward you consumed edibles and planned to work on the project. rafe started regretting not having brought condoms bc you seemed so flirty today.
✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 12.5k+
✿ A / N ✿ FINALLY THE 2ND HALF YAY (THERE'S ONE SLEEPOVER PART LEFT !!!). this one was one hell of a beast and i know it has some medium to heavy topics (i wanted to give some insight to KMS!rafe's hookups and sex life and all) and lots of convos and honestly, it's all A LOT, idek what to say... just enjoy. i deeply hope it meets your expectations and PLEASEEEEE LMK WHAT YOU THINK <3
art in this ch. made by me: DO NOT COPY, REPOST OR USE ELSEWHERE !!!!
xx ᓚᘏᗢ
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
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WHEN DID YOU GET SO HOT ALL A SUDDEN? / BOB FLOYD
Bob Floyd x reader
last time you saw Bob Floyd was at high school graduation when he wore thick black-brimmed glasses and had the body of a twig. when you're called back to Top Gun to find a very different but familiar version of him, you maybe think it's time for a do over.
w.c: 3k
a:n thanks Sabrina carpenter, maybe smut pt2 if y'all want it I can't believe I'm writing top gun fanfic in 2025.... oh Lewis pullman.
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bed chem
pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader summary: when you spot bob across the room at the hard deck, you’re convinced the two of you would have really good bed chem. turns out, you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about it. tags: strangers to lovers, sabrina carpenter levels of horniness (inspired by bed chem as the title suggests), rooster and hangman are happy to play wingman for bob warning(s): reader wears a short sundress, suggestive content (no smut just a lil spicy) word count: 5.9k note: it’s been a long time coming!! i started reading bob floyd fics the day i went to see tgm in the cinema and i have been absolutely dying to write for one of my comfort characters 💛 so here we go!!
You hadn’t even finished unpacking your boxes when your roommate decided you needed a proper introduction to town.
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Besties. pt 1 (Bob Floyd x Reader)
Summary: One year ago, you moved to North Island with your brother, Jake, when he got called to Top Gun. It has also been one year since you were introduced to his team— the Dagger Squad. It has been exactly ten months and three days that you have been head over heels for your best friend Bob, Floyd. The problem is: he doesn’t seem interested in crossing the line between friends and something more.
Warnings: suggestive language, alcohol, drunkenness, Jake being Jake, yearning, lots of interruptions, slow burn, best friends to lovers, the Dagger Squad acting like college kids for a weekend, not proofread, angst, no use of y/n
Word Count: ~9k
Author’s note: this is the first time I’ve been genuinely proud of my writing. It will be a two part series… let me know if you like it!
It was exactly five o’clock in the morning when Jake’s alarm started blaring through the walls of your small apartment. Every morning, you tried to sleep in, and yet every morning you failed miserably.
Next door, you could hear the obnoxious banging that Fanboy makes every day when he makes himself breakfast. It was only a matter of minutes until his roommate, Bob Floyd (aka: your best friend), would send his daily text apologizing for the racket and tell you he hopes you have a good day.
That was how your friendship started. Before even meeting the team, you had occasionally seen Fanboy and Bob heading into their neighboring apartment. Before being properly introduced, Bob had always been— in your mind— the cute, sweet looking man who lived next door. When you were introduced by your older brother, you quickly exchanged numbers for ‘neighborly reasons.’
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Love In Linoleum Masterlist
Bob Reynolds x Fem! Reader
Summary: Every night a sleep deprived brunette comes in to your convenience store, and every night you struggle to find the right words to start a conversation.
or
Your encounters with Bob as a tired convenience store clerk working the graveyard shift.
Status: Complete?
This series is just perfection
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shy guy finish first ━ bob floyd (part one)
dedicated to: @bodhiscurls because i love her to bits and she’s the best writing buddy and chaotic little cheerleader i could ever ask for♡ word count: 15,777 words pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader synopsis: you were just trying to blow off steam at the hard deck, maybe flirt your way out of a dry spell, but then quiet, polite bob floyd snapped, cornered you in the bathroom, and showed you exactly what eight months of pent-up want really looked like. content warnings: smut, mdni, blowjob in a bar bathroom, desperate tension, grinding, throatfucking, glasses staying on, possessive!bob (which is ooc, i'm sorry!), overstimulation, mutual begging, heavy petting, light choking, swearing, and two idiots who haven’t even fucked yet but are already acting like it’s the end of the world. also my first time writing smut ever so please bear with me!! author's note: you guys might want to know that i physically cannot write anything without overthinking every line which is probably why this turned into a whole spiral instead of something normal, like i swear i sat down with one idea and now i’m here wondering what just happened, so yeah, thank you for reading and letting me be feral in peace! kofi︱request︱masterlist
“Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The whole Hard Deck roared as you tipped your head back, beer sloshing down your throat with not a single pause, not even a flinch. You didn’t even blink. You were standing on top of the bench now, one foot on the table and the other on Fanboy’s thigh for balance because you had somehow convinced him to sit still long enough for you to climb up like a drunken goat.
The squad was losing their minds. Rooster was banging his fist on the table like he was summoning a demon, Phoenix had her phone out recording everything, and someone, probably Hangman, let out the loudest “WOOOOO!” known to mankind the second you slammed the empty glass down on the counter.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning like an absolute menace, your shirt slightly damp from the splashback, your hair a little messy, but your energy completely unbothered. You were glowing with the kind of chaotic pride only achievable through beer, adrenaline, and the undeniable high of being the most unhinged person in the room.
“Another!” you shouted, already reaching for someone else’s untouched pint.
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BOB FLOYD REQUEST
running into wife!r at a flower shop while trying to buy flowers for her bc he felt like it, but she was doing the same for him!!
flowers
fluff
bob floyd x wife!reader
synopsis: the request
warnings: reader is a stay at home wife, kissing, barely proof read (i wrote this in an hour after working a double don’t judge me)
notes: awww, so cute, keep these coming!!
This is so fucking cute oh my god
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undyingdecay
Anonymous asked:
What about Bob and roleplay? Like something that starts off as a joke, maybe trying on costumes for an halloween party the thunderbolts are throwing at the tower and just seeing you dressed as a police officer or something like that gets him GOING, like GOING GOING.
you’re both raiding the leftover halloween costumes the tower’s got stashed from last year’s party because the thunderbolts are throwing some half-assed, late-night thing in the lounge. you’re not even planning to properly dress up. just grabbing stuff to mess around with, holding up a plastic vampire cape to your shoulders, bob trying on a too-tight cowboy hat, both of you laughing about how shitty the costumes are.
and then you pull the cop outfit out. black, tight, zipper running down the front — tacky in the way all party store costumes are. you make a dumb joke about frisking him and step behind the divider to shrug it on.
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Summary: Bob doesn’t do well with compliments—especially not when they come casually, softly, sincerely, from you.
It started so innocently.
You were both in the Tower’s kitchen late at night, the rest of the team long gone, off doing their own thing or passed out in their rooms, the room quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the soft clink of Bob’s spoon as he stirred honey into his tea. The light above the stove was the only one on, casting him in this dim, golden glow that made him look soft, and safe, and—
“Fuck, you are so pretty,” you murmured, not even really meaning to say it out loud. Honestly, you thought you said it in your head.
Bob froze mid-stir. His hand stopped moving, his shoulders tense, and his head turned toward you just slightly—like a deer caught in a compliment. “…What?”
You looked up from your mug, confused for a second—until you realized shit I said that out loud. “You’re pretty, like so pretty” you repeated, gently, smiling with a slight eye roll like it wasn’t a big deal. Because to you, it wasn’t. Not in the way it should have been. But Bob? He looked at you like you had just gave him the moon.
“I—” he stammered, feeling his heart rate spike and his palms getting sweat, he doesn't realize the spoon slipped from his grip until a slight clink echoed between the two of you as the spoon fell into the mug. “You think—me?”
“Who else would I be talking to? It's just you here honey” you asked, leaning against the counter. “You’re literally glowing right now. I feel like I need to be paying someone just to stand next to you.”
He blinked. Blinked again. And then backed up two whole steps like he couldn't breathe the same air as you. “You can’t just say that” he whispered, like it was scandalous. “That I mean -- that's just dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” you laughed. “It’s a compliment, Bob.”
“No, it’s a threat to my emotional stability. Do you know what you’ve done? Do you understand how fast my brain is spiraling right now?” He ran a hand through his already-messy hair, only making it worse. “My entire internal monologue is just screaming, ‘She called me pretty, act normal, don’t faint, don’t cry, don’t propose—’”
You nearly choked on your tea. “Propose?”
He clapped his hand over his mouth like he’d just revealed state secrets. “Forget I said that” he muttered into his palm before waving his hand around as he rambles. “Strike it from the record. Rewind time. Go back thirty seconds before I embarrassed myself into a new dimension.”
“Bob.” You stepped forward and gently tugged his hand away from his mouth. “I meant it. You’re pretty. Not just during your glow-in-the-dark god-mode or whatever. You’ve got those kind, beautiful blue eyes, and a warm smile, and your hair does that floppy thing when it’s humid—”
“I hate the floppy thing,” he whispered. “I love the floppy thing,” you corrected, and watched as his cheeks turned a deep, unmistakable red. “You’re gonna kill me with your sweetness,” he muttered, looking down at the floor like it had better answers than you did.
You leaned in closer, nose nearly brushing his, making him look back at you. “Then I guess I’ll have to revive you with kisses.” That earned you a stunned blink, a sputtered half-laugh, and then a wide, dorky smile that split his entire face open like sunlight escaping through clouds.
“…Okay,” he said breathlessly. “But fair warning. You call me pretty again and I’m legally required to build you a shrine.” You grinned and blush slightly. “Noted.”
As always if you like my work, please let me know! Reblogging, commenting, and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work, and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Requests are open <3
Tagging:
This is too cute oml
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the plan ; robert 'bob' floyd
fandom: top gun
pairing: bob x reader
summary: the squad are all pretty sure that bob has a thing for you, but you're not convinced, so you hatch a plan to tease him within an inch of his life until he snaps
notes: i fear i may never again experience as much joy as i did while writing this... guys, it was so much fun! i know it's long, but it's full of tension and pining and heat, please give it a read! i actually love this so much, and i hope you do too, so please let me know what you think!!! i literally fell in love with bob while writing this, the lewis pullman spiral is spiralling
warnings: swearing, big dick energy, movie references (the princess bride, the ugly truth, star wars), bob's big dick, tension, lots of horniness (18+ ONLY MDNI), italics, huge dick energy, jealousy, bob is secretly cut, emotional warfare but it's fun, and did i mention bob's massive dick? (let me know if i missed anything)
word count: 21143
your callsign is sunny
It wasn’t long after the uranium mission that Dagger Squad was asked to stay on North Island and train as an elite, mission-focused unit under Maverick’s command. Not that anyone had to be asked—most of the squad was more than happy to be reassigned and stick together.
Once everything was finalised and the official special operations squadron was born, the first thing most of you did was move out of the barracks. You needed more space—both physically, and from each other—and, frankly, something that didn’t reek of stale socks and floor polish.
You and Natasha thought you’d hit the jackpot when you found a two-bedroom apartment right by the beach, with a spacious open-plan living area and not one, but two balconies. It was perfect. You could hardly believe it. Full of natural light, and just far enough from the boys you already spent too much time with—training, flying, doing push-ups every time someone pissed off Maverick.
It was meant to be.
Until the apartment across the hall went up for lease.
And that’s how you failed to escape the boys entirely. Reuben and Mickey spotted the sign while helping you move in, and before you knew it, they were neighbours—closer than ever and almost impossible to get off your couch.
A knock at the door draws your attention from the TV, and Natasha pauses mid-step on her way from the kitchen—bowl of popcorn in hand.
“Ten bucks says it’s Fanboy,” she says, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
You know that Mickey is stuck on overtime tonight—punishment from Maverick for mouthing off during a fly drill this morning. Natasha, however, hadn’t been in the air with you and clearly wasn’t listening on comms.
Your eyes flick to the door and back to her. “Deal.”
She drops the bowl on the coffee table and doubles back, swinging the door open.
“Ugh,” she sighs. “It’s you.”
Absolute perfection