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scarletmika · 20 days ago

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Knight in Shining Glasses : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: All you wanted to do was enjoy your first night in San Diego at the bar recommended to you by your father, but a hot-shot new to the Top Gun program was intent on bringing you home with him, or at least couldn't take a hint. Lucky for you, there's a knight in shining glasses ready to save you.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY (I am not responsible for the media you choose to consume), fluff, language, kind of a pushy douchebag guy is in this, female reader, language, probably incorrect descriptions of the Navy (my dad was a Marine, I'm doing my best lol but I did do a ton of research so hopefully it's accurate-ish), suggestive and steamy but no smut (but boy did we get real close), like a TINY maybe hint of angst for 0.2 seconds

Word Count: 11,044 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“Another beer?”

You nodded your head at the gorgeous woman behind the bar, who was already sliding a beer your way before you’d even answered, as if she could read your mind. You gave her a smile in thanks, sighing the second your hand touched the cool glass of the bottle.

San Diego was hot, too hot for your liking. Every piece of fabric on your body felt as if it was clinging to your body right now in a way that had you begging the world just to make it legal to walk around naked. You much preferred the weather back in New England, on the complete opposite side of the country, but you had promised to come to town for a bit. It had been years since you’d seen your father, not since his promotion and subsequent move to San Diego, your conflicting work schedules making it impossible to make the cross-country trip, even if you missed him.

You were here now, though, seated in the bar that had come highly recommended to you straight from him: The Hard Deck, located right on Coronado Beach, just minutes from the Naval Air Station of North Island.

“Local beer?” you questioned the woman as yet another group of rowdy, young Naval aviators came bursting through the doors of the bar, disturbing some of the other guests in the packed bar. The woman, whose nametag you could now see said Penny, just laughed at the antics of her new guests before nodding at you.

“Yeah, local company. They’re pretty popular around here, so I always have to keep them in stock,” you hummed, taking another sip of the drink in your hands. Rich in flavor, maybe with a hint of sweetness that complemented the bitterness it left behind. You could see why it was popular around here. Penny wiped the bar directly in front of you, flashing you a smile. “Now, I know most of my regulars here, and you certainly aren’t one. Where’d you blow into town from?”

“Watertown, New York,” you told her as another group of Naval aviators passed by you in their service khakis, older than the group that had just come in. Your eyes followed them for just a moment, lingering as they moved to the back of the room to the pool tables as if they were there every night, before looking back at Penny. “My father is in the Navy, stationed here in San Diego. Thought it was finally time I visited him.”

“Good, means you know how to deal with the rowdy bunch I have here,” you both laughed as she gestured toward the group of young pilots that had just come through. Someone called to her from further down the bar, and she paid you one final smile. “Holler if you need anything, or if anyone’s giving you trouble.”

“Will do,”

With the jukebox playing off in the corner, Summer of ‘69 by Bryan Adams filling the air, it gave you a chance to really take in the atmosphere. Given the proximity to the Naval Air Station, you weren’t surprised by the amount of Navy paraphernalia that decorated the entire bar. Mugs hung from the ceiling with F18s on them, plenty of pictures of those monster jets hung up around the tables as well. And with the clientele that Penny seemed to attract here, judging by the number of young pilots scattered around, you weren’t surprised that this seemed to have turned into a place many in the Navy flocked to after a long day on base.

The young group of aviators, who seemed to have met up with another group of friends, were loud and rambunctious over by the dart board as they took bets on who could make a bullseye first. You rolled your eyes at their antics with a slight smile, reminded of the stories your father had told of his days, and looked over your shoulder toward that older group by the pool tables.

Easily your age, or at least older and more experienced than the group by the dart board. There was one woman among the groups of men with darker hair, already kicking their asses at the pool game they were playing. That alone quirked your lips up just slightly as you watched Penny deliver a tray of drinks to the group that seemed very personally friendly with her. Ah, so they must be stationed here at North Island and be regulars of the Hard Deck.

They were quite the bunch, from what you observed from the bartop. There was the young man playing alongside the woman, and what seemed like his best friend pestering him after another missed shot. There was a taller, tan blonde who you could tell from here exuded confidence in an over-the-top way, and a friend beside him who also seemed to have that arrogant confidence about him. The man taking the tray from Penny and passing out the drinks had that same confidence and charm, but it almost seemed to roll off of him naturally as if he wasn’t even trying to charm those around him.

It was the one sitting off to the side, silently observing his friends, that caught your eye.

He didn’t exude confidence in the same way that his friends did. He wasn’t walking sex on legs like many would think the tall, overconfident friends of his were…but he was to you. Quiet, simply observing his friends with a tiny smile that stirred something in your chest. One hand holding onto the neck of his beer bottle, the same one you were drinking, and the other casually snacking on a cup of peanuts. You tried, and failed, to keep your eyes from lingering on those long, slender fingers of his, or the fact that, even from here, you could tell his hands were large in a delicious way that had your mind imagining what they’d feel like settled on your bare-

Okay, yeah, maybe it was time to say ‘fuck it’ to your no hook-up rule and get laid on this vacation. You couldn’t be thinking like this over a man you’d been looking at for less than a minute, didn’t even know his name, or had yet to make eye contact with.

But then, when your eyes finally left those slender hands, you were making eye contact with him.

There was an adorable flush crawling across his cheeks, and god were you a sucker for a cute man in some glasses. His lips quirked up in a shy smile as he met your gaze, giving you a tiny nod. A similar flush crept up your neck at being caught staring, giving him a small wink before turning back around to not seem like a creep watching him.

With Penny off taking orders as the bar only seemed to get busier by the minute, and no one around you seemed like good options for a conversation, you found yourself spun around to lean against the bar and observe the room. No time like a crowded bar to people watch.

With a few work emails checked to ensure you weren’t missing anything pressing on your vacation, and a text sent to your father to thank him for the bar recommendation, you found your eyes drifting back to that same Naval aviator once more.

The woman had dragged him from his seat, his beer and peanuts left behind as a pool cue was shoved into his hands as his friends cheered, bringing a grin to your face. Your eyes tracked him as he bent over the table to line up his shot, his friends engrossed in a conversation together, but then his eyes flicked up and met yours again. Your eyebrow shot up as you raised a beer to him, a simultaneous encouragement for him to sink his shot and also a challenge to see if he could. His lips quirked up at that as, without even glancing down to his cue, he took his shot: directly in the pocket without interference. His friends clapped for him, patting him on the back, but his eyes stayed on you. Even with another flush crawling up his neck and nerves practically stitched into his smile, he shot you a wink this time, and you couldn’t stop the giddy grin on your lips.

“Well, never seen girl as pretty you before,”

You didn’t want to stop looking at that gorgeous man in glasses across the bar, but you were intrigued to know who was speaking to you.

He wasn’t the worst-looking man, he was attractive. Dark hair that matched the mustache and the beard that was growing in, which was definitely against grooming standards for the Navy. Pretty brown eyes…but he wasn’t your shy, glasses-sporting boy across the room. Plus, you recognized him from that rowdy bunch of pilots that had walked in beforehand. The smile you’d given the man across the bar dropped into the smallest, friendliest one you could muster as you looked at the name on his badge: Jackson.

“Well, that’s definitely a way to open up a conversation,” you shot back. The man only laughed, leaning against the bar next to you with a charming, over-confident grin on his lips.

“Warrant Officer Daniel Jackson,” he held out his hand to shake yours, and you reluctantly gave it to him. You regretted it the moment he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, and you quickly took your hand back and slyly wiped it along the side of your jeans. “Friends call me Caveman.”

“Interesting callsign,” you shot back with a fake laugh, tilting your head. “You get that from the unkempt beard that’s clearly not within grooming protocols?

He laughed again, but it did nothing to lift your smile from where it was frozen to be polite. He took a swig from his own beer that he’d brought over with him before leaning closer.

“Funny, and you know the Navy,” you laughed uncomfortably again, taking a subconscious scoot backward on your chair to get away from him. “Brand new to Top Gun, friends and I got in earlier. About to become the best of the best…”

He continued talking, droning on and on about Top Gun and the ‘prestige’ that came with being one of the best of the best (if he could actually get through the vigorous training). In the interest of being polite and not pissing off a man your first night in town, you laughed politely when appropriate and pretended to be listening.

When your eyes glanced back at that man in the glasses, though, he was already looking at you. Back to standing near the seat he’d occupied before, peanuts in his hands and the pool game abandoned as he seemed to be watching you. You gave him a dramatic roll of your eyes, pitching your head toward the pilot still talking your ear off as if to say ‘get a load of this guy,’ and you could see him laugh from across the bar. That simple action sent a flutter through your chest, and god, what you wouldn’t give to actually hear that laugh.

“...I could show you base sometime,” your attention was, sadly, brought back to Caveman beside you, who was still smiling at you as if you were a prize he’d won and wanted to flaunt around the entire bar to each and every patron. “Could sponsor ya for the day, give ya a private tour.”

“That’s sweet, but I’m sure if I wanted to visit the base, my father would happily sponsor me,” you shot back, trying to turn him down as politely as you possibly could. Your comment only seemed to brighten his mood even more.

“Navy dad, you say?” he’d leaned in closer once more, and you were running out of room on the little stool to lean away from him. “Guess that means you know a lot. Dad have rules about…dating pilots?”

Yeah, no, now you were uncomfortable. There was no being polite now, he’d made his intentions clear and could clearly not read your body language. Your body instantly tensed as your eyes avoided his, still trying to keep the most polite smile you could on your lips. Penny was nowhere in sight to help, so your eyes immediately found your pilot across the room.

He was already watching you, it seemed, but when you locked eyes again, he stood up a little straighter, the smile he had on his face dropping slightly. It was as if he could see the way your demeanor had suddenly changed, and god, you hoped he could see it.

“I’m flattered, but I’m not looking for anything like that,” you’d awkwardly laughed out as you looked back at him finally. “I’m just here on vacation.”

That was when his hand settled on top of your knee, and your heart leapt into your throat. The heat of his hand felt like it was burning a hole in your jeans as he squeezed just so.

“Don’t got to be anything serious, I’m down for some fun,”

That polite smile was gone off your face in an instant as you tried to yank your leg from him, but he squeezed it just slightly tighter.

“Okay, Caveman, sounds like you must’ve got your nickname from how you treat women,” that snide comment seemed to drop his confident demeanor immediately. “I’ve turned you down, I’ve made it clear I’m not interested. So I suggest you let me go.”

“Come on, I think you just need to-”

“I’m pretty sure she said let her go, Caveman,”

There was an edge to the voice that cut in, but not one that made you feel on edge yourself. A hand clamped down on your shoulder from behind, firm but not uncomfortable in the way that the hand on your knee was. Grounding, and when it squeezed your shoulder just slightly, it felt comforting. Protective, in a way. And when you finally turned your head and noticed those familiar glasses you’d been staring at all night, and those gorgeous blue eyes hiding behind them, you immediately relaxed into his touch.

Caveman’s hand immediately left your knee as he seemed to sit up a little straighter, putting his hands up in surrender as he looked at the man standing at your side now.

“Lieutenant Floyd-”

“Things are looking tense over here!” those two pilots you’d observed earlier, the ones who exuded confidence in your eyes, suddenly appeared behind Caveman. The taller blonde placed his hand down on his shoulder just as Lieutenant Floyd’s was on yours, and you glanced at their tags: Lt. Seresin and Lt. Bradshaw. The blonde pointed to Caveman, raising an eyebrow at the man at your side. “Baby-on-board, is this man causing trouble?”

Your shoulder was squeezed once more as you turned back to look at the man at your side, feeling another flutter in your chest as you got a good look at those sky blue eyes up close, which made him even more attractive in your eyes. He gave you a small smile, tilting his head toward your ‘friend’ just like you had earlier on.

“Is he bothering you?”

You’d glanced back at Caveman, who seemed semi-scared shitless around these guys, and a smirk curled up on your lips.

“Yes, yes he is,”

“Disrespecting a lady?” it was Penny’s voice now as she reappeared behind the bar, her glare set on that poor pilot that everyone was ganging up on. She ‘tsked’ in his direction, before stepping back to point to a sign hanging just behind her. “It’s your first night here, you should probably check the rules before you get comfortable.”

Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cellphone on my bar…you buy a round.

Alright, Penny might be your new favorite person, besides the hot ass pilot in glasses still comfortably resting his hand on your shoulder as the scene played out before you all.

Caveman never even got a chance to defend himself, as Penny had stepped up to the bell hanging from the ceiling beside the sign, the ring of it echoing throughout the bar. Within seconds, there were chants of ‘OVERBOARD!’ heard throughout the room before Lt. Seresin and Lt. Bradshaw had the man hooked under their arms, dragging him out to the parking lot as his friends quickly followed behind.

“A-Are you okay?”

Your eyes found your pilot’s brilliant blue ones again, this time in front of you as he chose to now occupy the seat Caveman was sitting in just moments prior. You simply stared at him for a moment, still trying to process the entire interaction, before a smile stretched wide across your face.

“You know, I thought the Knight in all the fairytales was wearing shining armor?” you posed it like a question, a teasing tone present in your words as you took a quick swig of your beer, eyes never leaving his, and your smile turning into a slight smirk. “Didn’t know mine was going to come bearing shining glasses, instead.”

He’d laughed, that laugh just minutes ago you would’ve burned this bar down to hear, and my god, did you adore it. You adored it more than you should, given that you still didn’t know this mystery man’s name.

“No woman deserves to be treated like that, ma’am,” he tried to dismiss you, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as your eyes trailed over those hands once again, now that they were so close. You could see the redness in his cheeks from this close now, too. “T-The way he was acting, my mom would’ve torn me a new one if I didn’t step in.”

“And is that the only reason?” you quipped back immediately, placing your beer down on the counter just so you could really look at him, study him. “That you stepped in?”

You could see the way he hesitated for a moment, but not as if he didn’t want to answer you. No, you could see that flush deepening in his skin: you were flirting with him, and he knew it, he just didn’t know how to handle it.

“N-No, no, that’s not the only reason,” there was a shy smile on his face as he huffed out a sheepish laugh, looking down at his lap for a moment, before looking back to you. “I should actually thank him, his incompetence gave me the balls to come over here and talk to you.”

He’d made you laugh, a boisterous one that caught the attention of a few lingering around the area of the bartop you were sat at, and you knew already that you were screwed when it came to this man. You’d offered your name immediately after that, a hand out to shake, and he took it in his own as he gave his name: Bob Floyd.

You tried desperately not to think about the way his hand had felt against yours, or the way it had absolutely engulfed your hand due to its sheer size alone. You forced your gaze to the badges that adorned the left side of his khaki uniform, glancing back up at him with a grin as you pulled your hand away.

“So, a Lieutenant?” you commented, gesturing toward the two silver bars on the collar of his uniform, before pointing with your beer bottle to the golden wings centered above his heart. “Flight officer badge. You’re a Weapons Systems Officer?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he gave you another kind grin as Penny swung by quickly, shooting a wink in both of your directions as you slid you both another beer each, muttering something about it being on the house. Bob took his with a sheepish smile, thanking Penny quietly before his attention refocused on you. “Top Gun graduate.”

“Ah, that and the rank explain why Caveman was so scared shitless to see you and your friends,” he’d laughed again at that comment as you finished off the last of your beer, a sly smirk appearing as it was hard to miss the way that Bob’s eyes flickered down to your neck as you tilted you head back to finish off the bottle. “Typically, you’re only recalled here for special detachments and sent home to your squadrons, unless you’re here to train newbies like our friend in the sand outside.”

“We were brought in for a mission months ago,” Bob’s attention was turned away as Lt. Seresin and Lt. Bradshaw reentered the bar. They both gave you polite waves that you happily returned for what they’d done for you, before making the most obvious of kissy faces toward Bob that had him shaking his head in embarrassment. You tried to hold in your laughter for his own sake. “They thought we had good team dynamics, so they formed a special squadron to keep us in town for a while. VFA-73 Dagger Squad, at your service.”

“Well, cheers to you all and a sincere thanks for your service,” he happily clinked the top of his bottle against your own. “Must be one special group to get a new squadron formed, no less made up of the best of the best.”

“Oh, they’re special, alright,”

You’d quickly come to learn in the next few minutes that Bob Floyd might’ve been the quieter one of his friends, but he was just as charming as the rest seemed to be. Honestly, you weren’t sure he understood just how charming he really was. He’d pointed across the bar toward his friends, naming off their names and the callsigns that you were sure to remember more easily. With each name, he seemed to easily have a story or a quick-witted quip about each one (including the embarrassing story of his Bob ended up his callsign and how Hangman had turned it into baby-on-board) that had you progressively laughing harder, leaning further toward him. You were seated facing one another, bodies angled directly at the other, and his knee was just barely brushing up against yours now with each laugh shared.

“Hangman seems like a piece of work, but I bet he’s got a soft side buried somewhere down in there,” you’d shot back, turning Bob’s attention back to you as you leaned closer to him with a grin, launching into a story that Bob seemed gripped to, an easy smile on his own face. “My dad’s the same way, took my Uncle Solomon–not my real Uncle, but kind of chosen Uncle–to break him down a little bit, get him to loosen up more.”

“So, your father was in the Navy?”

“Still is, reason that I’m in town right now,”��

With Bob this close, you were losing focus fast. The way he hung onto every word that you said, seemed to genuinely care about what you had to say, had a flutter flying through your chest that you hadn’t felt since your first boyfriend back in high school. Sure, you’d had your fair share of relationships in adulthood, but nothing that clicked, no one that made your heart soar or made you want to ‘pop your foot’ as Princess Mia always said in your favorite childhood movie. You were starting to understand her logic, though, because every second around this charming knight in shining glasses had you ready to throw caution to the wind.

So, with a little boost of confidence fueled by the third beer in your hand and the adorable sight of a blush on the Naval aviator’s face, you moved even closer. Your leg slotted itself between his, pressed between his thighs as your foot rested against the bottom rungs of his chair. You could see him freeze for just a second as his eyes followed you, not apprehensive, but just unsure, like he’d never been here before. With your beer pushed off to the side, not seeing a need for any more liquid courage, your elbow came to rest on the bartop and your head on top of your hand, allowing you to look up at the handsome man before you and watch as he visibly swallowed the lump in his throat.

God, that really had no right to be as hot as it was.

“S-So, he’s stationed here on North Island?”

“Maybe,” you shot back with a smirk, one that brought an easy smile back to his lips as he could surely hear the teasing tone laced through your words as you kept your answer vague. “I’d prefer not to talk about my dad, though, when I could be hearing more about the incredibly handsome WSO who saved this poor damsel in distress.”

Another easy laugh was shared between you both before the floodgates seemed to open up.

Bob had no issue telling you all about his childhood. He’d grown up in Montana, on a ranch somewhere on the outskirts of Bozeman, which prompted a lengthy debate on whether or not he qualified as a cowboy or not (you thought he did, and when he confessed to owning a few cowboy hats, you declared yourself the winner of the debate). His mother and father, Bonnie and Owen Floyd, had three daughters before finally having Bob, their youngest: Laura, and the twins Sophia and Sierra. He’d recounted a story from back in high school when they’d taken a trip to Yellowstone National Park for Bob’s birthday, at his request, where his oldest sister had gotten yelled at by a park ranger for stepping way too close to one of the hot springs.

“That’s, like, impossible to do!” you’d almost shouted through the bar incredulously as Bob laughed at your reaction. “All you have to do is stay on the guided paths, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Bob managed to explain through his own laughter. “Laura swore she saw a bald eagle and was just trying to get a closer look. She then, unbelievably, yelled back at the ranger about how one day she was going to be a conservationist and work there.”

“In the nicest way…she sounds like a piece of work sometimes,”

“No offense taken, the whole family agrees. I like to say she took all the extrovertedness in the family so that there was none left for me,”

Your lips quirked into another bright smile at that, tone slightly teasing once more, but in a soft way.

“I don’t know, you don’t seem so introverted around me,”

Bob paused at that, that adorable blush still ever present in his skin, as his lips quirked up just slightly higher than they were before.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t,” he’d shyly managed to say, eyes never straying from yours. “You make it easy.”

With more shared laughter, two hearts fluttering just from conversation alone, Bob even told you the story of how he’d decided to join the Navy. He’d been with his father one day, the family truck getting worked on at the local shop, and his dad had slid him some money to grab them both some snacks from the pharmacy a few doors down. Bob had only been around 10 at the time. In between those two buildings, though, had been a Navy recruitment center where he’d overheard the conversation inside with some high school students, and the rest was history. He suddenly had every book known to man about the Navy, was watching every movie that even mentioned the Navy in passing, and had sheepishly admitted to even starting a collection of model planes he’d built, dreaming one day of flying them.

God, if that wasn’t somehow the cutest story in the world, but also the hottest moment of vulnerability you’d seen from a man your age in years, you were practically ready to swoon and drop to the floor right there in the middle of the bar. You had a feeling that Penny wouldn’t take kindly to that, even if she seemed to like you and Bob’s friend group.

In turn, you’d told Bob everything about yourself, too. Growing up in a town in New York that felt more like it was part of Canada than New York, given your proximity to the border. You were an only child, your father (who had you skirting around any details that Bob asked about him) was too focused on his career to think about having another kid. But he always swore that you were enough for him. His workaholic nature and deep love for the Navy and moving up the ranks strained the relationship he had with your mother until they divorced. How you never got to see him often, but he always managed to call at least once a week to talk to his ‘perfect girl.’

With the depressing comparison of your childhoods and family dynamics, you’d told him the happy stories and memories, too. Ones that you didn’t normally divulge to a man you had just met. You’d been on a softball team all through high school with your best friends, won multiple championships, and even gotten a scholarship to Boston University because of it. There were multiple stories about how your parents always bribed you with Cold Stone Creamery, and how it was still your favorite ice cream place today. That time your friends had gotten caught sneaking alcohol into the punch bowls at prom (that story had Bob laughing, as he recounted a similar one that Hangman had told them from his high school days). And, of course, the thrilling stories of your very mundane marketing job back in your hometown, the one you never managed to escape.

“You at least like your job, though, right?” Bob had asked, and with the way you were now sitting together, it would probably be more comfortable and practical to just climb into his lap and use him as a chair. Legs still wound around one another, both leaning against the bar with beers long forgotten, faces entirely too close together as you sat in your own bubble together. The sun had long since gone down, as it had still been in the beginning stages of setting when you’d first entered the bar.

One hour, two? You had no clue how long you’d been talking to Bob Floyd, but every part of you wanted to talk to him for the rest of the night and beyond. It was easy, it was comfortable, and you felt more respected in the entirety of this conversation than you did on any Tinder date you’d been on in years. Safe. That’s what you felt. You felt safe around Bob Floyd, a feeling that was a hot commodity in today's dating climate.

“I do. I went to school for it, so I hope I like it,” your eyes drifted to the bartop, finger absentmindedly tracing the water ring left around your discarded beer bottle. “Pays well, very well. Just want to do it…somewhere other than my hometown, is all. Love the company I work for, just want a change. If an opportunity presented itself, I’d leave Watertown immediately.”

“And besides your mom, you wouldn’t uh…you wouldn’t be leaving anyone behind, would you? No like a, uh, a boyfriend…or anything?”

You’d glanced back up at him now, at the way he bit into his bottom lip with both nerves and hope shining in his eyes as he waited with baited breath for your answer. And in turn, you smiled, leaning just the slightest bit closer to him with amusement laced in your words.

“Lieutenant Floyd, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been flirting with you all night. I wouldn’t do that if there was someone waiting for me,”

He laughed then, and you could almost physically see the tension and nerves leave his body.

“Good, because uh, I-I don’t either. Have anyone, I mean,” your head tilted as Bob groaned slightly, running a hand down his face and adjusting his glasses with a deep chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m really not good at this.”

“At flirting?”

“I never really get the chance to, no one ever really notices me,” he’d shrugged it off like it was nothing, but you’d felt a small pang in your chest at that comment. “Jake, Bradley, Javy…it’s always them, and it doesn’t normally bother me. But I…I saw you earlier, and you looked at me like you saw me. Like you really saw me. You never looked at them, you kept looking at me. And…I’ve never been the one looked at like that, not when I’m with them. I’m not the one noticed.”

You shuffled, sitting up slightly now so that you weren’t leaning against the bar, as you placed your hand on top of his, where it lay in his lap. Bob simply watched you, a tiny smile never leaving his face, as you reciprocated the look and gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m not one to flirt with a random guy at a bar, or sit and divulge details of my life story to him for hours on end. Which means you, Bob Floyd, are special. And honestly? I’m glad the other ladies don’t notice you, because I sure did. And that just leaves more for me.”

There was silence for a beat before his hand under your own moved back just slightly, his fingers now splayed out over your own, wrapping around them slightly with a tiny squeeze. And somewhere in that small movement, in the looks exchanged in the never-ending eye contact you seemed to hold with one another, something changed. Those heated looks from earlier held a new weight with the words spoken out loud, the tension on the rope connecting the two of you tighter than it had been from the moment you’d first saw Bob Floyd from across the bar, and it felt like all it was going to take to snap that tension was to lean in-

“Baby-on-board! You done hogging your girl over there so we can meet her?”

And…moment ruined. Bob immediately shut his eyes, groaning with a mumble under his breath about how he was ‘going to kill Hangman’ while his friends all laughed from across the bar. You’d simply laughed, leaning your head down until your forehead rested against Bob’s shoulder, his breath and words ghosting over the side of your face as he finally spoke.

“Sorry about them. The one time I have a girl interested in me, they decide to be pricks about it,”

“Maybe they’re just trying to summon you back over, I have held you hostage long enough,” you commented when you finally lifted your head, glancing down at the watch on his arm to see that you had, in fact, held this man hostage at the bar for almost two hours, even though it had felt like minutes.

“Trust me, this was no hostage situation. I’d rather be over here with you,” Bob was quick to interject, his smile seeming to stretch wider as you were sure he could see the flush crawling up your own neck. Untangling your legs, Bob rose to his feet beside the chair as a pang of disappointment hit you square in the chest. That was, until he held his hand out to you with a sheepish grin. “Care to join me?”

You were pretty sure you would’ve followed Bob Floyd anywhere at this point. Was it insane to like a guy this much after barely knowing him for a night? Probably, but you didn’t feel like you’d just met him. No, Bob Floyd felt like meeting an old friend again, and god did you love the feeling. That’s why you didn’t hesitate to put your hand in his.

“Lead the way, Lieutenant,”

There was another round of cheers the second you and Bob were finally in their vicinity, another comment from Hangman about ‘Bobby finally bagging a woman’ that ended with a harsh shoulder slap from Phoenix. You’d only laughed as Bob shook his head at their antics and gratefully accepted the barstool he’d held out for you. Your eyes watched him, like they had been the entire night, as he turned down the invitation to the pool game at hand, taking a seat on the stool directly next to you.

What he probably hadn’t expected was for your foot to hook around the leg of his stool, dragging it directly to your side until every part of you that could be pressed up against the handsome WSO was. When he saw the easy smile on your face and the tiny wink you gave him, you could see any last bit of tension leave his body as he easily leaned into you as well.

They’d all quickly introduced themselves, though Bob had already given you the rundown before. You greeted them politely with a smile, finally giving them your own name so Bradley didn’t have to call you ‘mystery bar girl’ anymore.

“Well, well, well baby-on-board,” it was Hangman once again, shaking his head as he took a shot on one of his last solids left in play, sinking it easily. “Looks like you snagged a confident one. Too bad, bet I could’ve swept her off her feet if given the chance.”

Flirty. Bob certainly didn’t exaggerate just how flirtatious Jake Seresin seemed to be, not that you were interested at all in any comments from him. The comments didn’t catch you off guard, but Bob’s actions did.

His hand was immediately on your thigh, closer down toward your knee, but resting there nonetheless. Just the slightest bit of pressure, enough to feel as if it had been meant in a comforting gesture, but it inherently held something a little more to it. Not quite possessiveness, but something akin to staking a claim, to say you were with him and him only. While Caveman’s hand on any part of you had you wanting to run for the hills, Bob’s firm grip had you leaning into his side more, chasing after the warmth and security he provided. It still sent a flash of heat through every inch of your body, especially when you glanced down to see just how big his hand was when it was resting on such a small part of you. You wished you’d opted for the jean shorts you had picked out earlier now just to feel his hand engulf your bare skin instead.

“Knock it off, Bagman. Clearly, she’s more interested in the quiet types,” the wink Natasha sent your way made you laugh, a similar chuckle coming from Bob at his front-seater’s comments, as she whacked Hangman over the shoulder. While lining up to take her own shot in the game, you saw her catch the way Bob’s hand rested on your leg, and a flash of surprise followed by pride seemed to cross her features. “So, never seen you around before. What brings you to Fightertown?”

“Visiting my dad for a few weeks, he’s stationed here on North Island. But…I’m also here for work,” you could see Bob’s head turn to look at you curiously from the corner of your eye, but you kept your gaze on Natasha. “The marketing firm I work for has a branch out here in San Diego, over in Chula Vista. They know I’ve been looking to move, so they thought I should come check out their set-up out here to see if I liked it enough to take their offer.”

There was a squeeze to your thigh as you turned your attention back to Bob, who was looking at you quizically.

“You didn’t mention that before,”

“Wasn’t sure I was going to take their offer earlier,” you shrugged innocently. “San Diego is hot, I’m not built for this weather.”

“But you…think you might take it now?”

You bit into your bottom lip, leaning just a fraction closer to Bob as you tried to hold back your grin as you replied.

“Well…maybe I found another enticing reason to hang around San Diego for a while,”

There was a low murmur of laughter throughout the group at your words, that gorgeous redness settling back into Bob’s cheeks, and you could hear Fanboy mumble out just loud enough a ‘damn, she’s good at this’ comment.

The group asked their questions, and you answered happily. Where you were from, what all your job entailed, even the stupid little questions like who your celebrity crush was or if you ever thought about joining the Navy like your father.

All the while, Bob never strayed from your side. His thumb had been rubbing little circles into your jeans, just firm enough to feel it on your skin each time the digit moved back and forth, and god, you were really cursing yourself for not wearing those shorts right now. At some point, during a pool rematch between Rooster and Coyote, your head had found it’s way to rest against Bob’s shoulder, and after a brief moment there was the unmistakeable feel of lips pressed to the crown of your head that had a shiver running down your spine and another flash of heat rushing through you, this time heading all south.

Charming, sexy in a quiet way that made him seem so non-threatening, and an absolutely sweetheart and a gentleman…it hadn’t even been a day, but you knew Bob Floyd had already ruined your standards for men. He was the standard.

“Sorry, my favorite fighter pilots,” the attention of everyone crowded by the pool tables turned to Penny, hand on her hip, but an easy smile on her face as she glanced around, eyes lingering on you and the WSO who were still wrapped around one another. “Last call time, going to have to kick you all out now.”

Last call? With a quick glance around the bar, you noticed that there was, in fact, barely any patrons still around. The ones still left behind were already moving toward the door. And with a glance down at Bob’s watch, the time was confirmed: 2 a.m.

“Damn, we almost never stay here until last call,” Rooster laughed, packing up everything on the pool table so that Penny didn’t have to deal with it, Fanboy and Paybackl disappearing after offering to help Penny clean up bottles still littered around the bar.

“Time does fly when you’re having fun,” Natasha commented, bumping shoulders with him before she set her sights on you. “What about you, our honorary Dagger? Need a ride back to wherever you’re staying?”

“Nah, I’m staying at Hotel del Coronado right down the beach. Perks of the job. I just walked along the beach to get here earlier,” your gaze then flickered over to Bob, his thumb still rubbing circles into your leg where he’d never let go throughout the night. “Though it’s pretty late, I’d love if there was some knight in shining glasses still hanging around that wouldn’t mind walking me back.”

There wasn’t a second of hesitation from Bob before he was on his feet, the heat of his hand on your leg disappearing, and then reappearing moments later when his hand wrapped around your own, fingers sliding into place between yours.

“I’ve got tomorrow off, I’ll see you guys on base Sunday,” Bob nodded toward his friends, tugging you even closer to his side. “Tell Penny I’ll come grab my truck later.”

“More like in the morning,” Hangman commented, trying to conceal it surrounded by fake coughs. The group had laughed, the comment spurring another bloom of red across Bob’s cheeks and your own, before he’d tugged you out the back door of the Hard Deck and into the sand.

The beach in these early hours of the morning was quiet, beautiful in a way that only these lonely hours of the night could make it. No distant sound of traffic, no families or rowdy groups of teenagers running up and down the sand, just the sand, the waves, and the moon. It cast streaks of light over the water, its reflection rippling in the waves as they crashed to shore, setting the scene of a picturesque night along the stretch of sand that lasts miles.

Bob had held you up as you removed your sandals, carrying them in one hand in order to appreciate the cool sand beneath your feet. Your other hand still stayed wrapped up in Bob’s, the warmth of his skin a delicious contrast to the cool breeze that came with the cool nighttime California air. Conversation hadn’t stopped, not once, since you’d both started talking earlier on in the night, but this time it was Bob pointing up at the sky as you lazily moved down the beach at the slowest pace you could, naming constellations visible.

“That one right over there,” you followed his gaze as he pointed just slightly West in the sky. “That one is Hercules.”

“Ah, absolutely. I can totally see it,” you nodded your head repeatedly, and it was clear that Bob was already starting to laugh at your response. “The square those stars form, and the little stick arms and legs, definitely gives off a mythological Greek hero to me.”

“Well, actually,” Bob managed to speak through his laughter. “It’s named for his Roman counterpart. Heracles was his Greek counterpart, so they’re essentially the same thing.”

After a moment, you dropped Bob’s hand, turning and angling your body so that you were facing him head-on, walking backward in the sand. Even in the dark of the night, you could tell there was a tiny blush creeping along his cheeks as you tilted your head toward him.

“Bob Floyd, don’t tell me you’re also a secret space nerd!”

His laugh echoed down the beach as he hung his head for a moment, adjusting his glasses when he finally looked back up to you with a grin.

“Guilty, hard not to be with the kind of night skies I grew up seeing in Montana. I-I haven’t…completely ruined my chances now that I’ve nerded out…have I?”

“On the contrary. I have a thing for smart men,” with another wink, you’d spun on your heel in the sand, continuing your walk toward the hotel. “Especially this smart, handsome WSO named Bob Floyd that I met tonight.”

You’d barely gotten a few steps away before there was a sudden tug on your hand, your body spinning back around in the sand until your chest was pressed directly to Bob’s. And before you could utter a single word, his lips were, finally, on yours.

Without a second of hesitation, you fell into him, swept away by the way his fingers traced the line of your jaw, sliding their way to the back of your neck as he held you in place against him. His lips moved against your own with a sense of gentleness that disappeared once it was clear you were reciprocating with vigor, his mouth swallowing yours with the hunger of a starved man.

Almost involuntarily, a delicious little sound you swore you’d never made before tumbled from your lips, swallowed whole by the soft, firm moves of Bob’s lips against your own. A spark grew in the pit of your stomach the second the hand on your waist gripped you just the slightest bit tighter, a spark that was soon a raging inferno that you had no thoughts about taming.

It takes no effort to give in to Bob Floyd, not when he holds you like this. Not when he’s kissing you on a moonlit beach as if you’d personally hung the moon in the sky just for him.

There is no question in this kiss, no lingering doubts about whatever had sparked between you both since the moment you’d made eye contact hours ago. When your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers sliding through and tugging lightly on the sandy blonde hair you couldn’t even see in the dark, and he elicits a groan that has your knees threatening to give out in the sand, there’s no question: there’s a claim. If his hand on your thigh was the precursor, the writing of a contract to claim you as his in a way you didn’t even realize you already were, this kiss was the signature. Signed and dated, written in stone. You weren’t sure there was another man in the world who could kiss you the way Bob Floyd was kissing you, who could ignite a fire that bright in the depths of your soul.

With reluctance, as if it takes the gods themselves to pull either of you away, you part for the simple need to breathe. And, god, does Bob Floyd look wrecked. Panting, lips red and swollen, the skin of his neck and cheeks flushed red, and an unmistakable bit of fog to his glasses. You laughed then, breathy from your own lack of oxygen, reaching up with the sleeve of your shirt to wipe at the fog, knowing that, given how you felt right now, you surely didn’t look any better than he did.

“Well…hi,” you managed to huff out, chest still struggling to get air back into your lungs.

“Hi,” his voice came out almost like a whisper at first, full of wonder, his hand still cradling your head. His thumb was, once again, drawing little circles into the skin right around your ear, his smile wider than you’d seen all night. “I…I’m sorry-”

“Do not apologize for that,” you’d interjected immediately as Bob huffed out a laugh. “Please, never apologize for that.”

“Good, because I was lying. I-I’m really not sorry,” the hand against your cheek left you, taking its warmth with it, before both of Bob’s hands settled on your waist. You tightened your arms around his shoulders in response, sandals having been long discarded in the sand somewhere amid the kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for hours. I…I like you. Like, a lot. More than I think I should for the few short hours I’ve known you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on the same page. I don’t divulge my entire life story to just any Naval aviator in a bar,” another breathy laugh fell from Bob’s lips as you leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his. “No, I only tell all those stories to this one guy that I happen to really like. Like, a lot.”

And when Bob Floyd kissed you again, it was blissful. Gentler, still passionate, so full of an emotion that you wouldn’t ever dare to call love, not this soon. It was more like affection, adoration, a warmth that had you melting into his arms without a care in the world. You’d do anything, as long as it meant you got to keep kissing this man.

Maybe Princess Mia had been onto something with that ‘foot pop’ of a kiss idea, because this sure felt like that moment.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” Bob groaned out against your lips, hands squeezing at your hips again as you laughed, playfully leaning back to swat at his chest as he smiled down at you, illuminated by the moonlight.

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps kissing me. I think any court of law would find you at fault for that. Also,” you quickly gestured around at your surroundings with a tilt of your head. “Hell of a setting for a first kiss. A moonlit beach in the dead of night, did you walk straight out of a rom-com, Bob Floyd?”

“In all honesty, I was going to wait until I got you back to your hotel room to kiss you and hopefully get your number,” he stated matter-of-factly. “But then I looked at you and…and you were just too beautiful not to. And I was going to kick myself in a few hours if I didn’t kiss you.”

If you were ever asked to pinpoint something you adored about Bob Floyd, his ability to make you laugh with the simplest of things would probably be your favorite. He barely even had to try, and he had you laughing like a little schoolgirl.

The entire walk back to the hotel down the beach felt like a dream sequence, like something straight out of a movie that you never believed actually happened to people in real life. Bob’s hand never strayed from yours, swinging between you both as you kicked at the sand. Every few steps, he’d push you away from him slightly, just to be able to pull you back into his side and make you laugh again.

And somehow, in the midst of the walk, you’d ended up engaged in the most spontaneous round of ‘Never Have I Ever’ questions you’d ever been part of. You and Bob had both been caught speeding during college, but Bob had managed to awkwardly sweet-talk his way out of a ticket with the female officer. You’d been skinny dipping twice before, both on bachelorette trips for two of your college friends, and you didn’t miss the way Bob had to swallow the lump in his throat at that confession (no doubt imagining it). He, in turn, had ended up having to confess the embarrassing story that was him having a crush on his high school English teacher.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to wrap my head around that,” you’d managed to say through your laughter that you couldn’t contain as you both approached the main doors of the hotel building. “She was at least young, right?”

“Yes, she was in her thirties,” Bob shook his head, obviously amused by how hilarious you found the story. Like the gentleman he was, he’d opened the door for you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he led you into the building. “Girls didn’t look at me in high school, okay. She always offered that I could eat lunch with her since she had a free period, and the entire school had agreed that she was objectively pretty. You can’t blame me!”

“Okay, fine, but you do have to admit it’s a little funny,” you’d offhandedly waved to the concierge, the same one who had checked you in that morning, now working the graveyard shift, before leading Bob over to the elevators. You rested against the wall, awaiting your ride to arrive, while Bob stood just barely a foot in front of you. “As for the girls: their loss. If I’d have gone to high school with you, trust me, I would’ve looked at you.”

The doors for the elevator slid open with a ‘ding’ as you quickly moved inside, back turned to Bob.

“And trust me, if I’d have known you back then, we’d be married by now,”

The second the elevator doors shut, you paused, finger hovering over the button for your floor. Turning on your heel back to Bob, head cocked to the side in amusement, you could see the realization flicker over his face as it dawned on him what exactly he’d just said.

“Oh, would we now? You saying we’d be high school sweethearts?” Bob sheepishly laughed, fixing his glasses as he looked anywhere but you. “That kind of sounded like a line straight out of Hangman’s playbook, and I barely know the guy.”

“Yeah…y-yeah, it really did, didn’t it? Might have to blame the alcohol, I-I don’t typically drink much on our nights out,”

You hummed, taking a step toward him with a growing smile as his stuttering came back for just a second, something you realized only ever made an appearance when he was nervous. His eyes were locked on you as you leaned up, nose bumping his.

“Don’t worry, I found it cute coming from you,” you leaned back to hit the button for the third floor, and the second you did, Bob’s hand was settled on your hip, pulling you back to him. Teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, you contemplated the words floating around your head for a moment, afraid that whatever was happening here was fragile and your words could break it. “When we get up there…do you want to come in?”

You had read it before, about the way a man’s eyes darkened with ‘lust’ or in moments such as this, but you’d never witnessed it. Not until now, and once again, Bob Floyd had you weak in the knees.

“I’d love to,”

“Good,” you nodded. “Just know…I don’t do hook-ups. I don’t do flings.”

“Good,” he responded with his own nod. “Because neither do I.”

“Good,”

The door of your hotel room had barely been closed before Bob was on you.

His hands on your hips guided you, pressing you up against the closed bathroom door just to the right of the room’s main door, and his lips descended upon yours as if he were attacking his target. Vigorous, relentless, he kissed you in a way you’d never been kissed before, not even like he did on the beach, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance. A wanton moan slipped out of you, parting your lips just enough for Bob’s tongue to sneak through, to savor the taste of you. You savored the taste of him, too: the lingering taste of the beer he’d been sipping all night, and the remnants of your own vanilla chapstick still smeared across his lips.

You moved in tandem, like your bodies were one with each other. It didn’t take long before your shirt was off, his lips hot, slicked with spit, dragging themselves over every inch of skin he could get his lips on. Every drag of his lips, every press of a kiss against your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts had your mind going blank, your fingers desperately fumbling with the buttons of his khaki uniform to no avail.

If you just asked, you’d let him have anything he wanted in this moment. You’d let him take you against this door, the wall next to it, the floor, the bed, hell, you’d let him lean you over the balcony railing where anyone might be able to see you both. Nothing else mattered besides Bob Floyd, as long as he continued to touch you, adore you, worship you the way he was.

In the moments it took Bob to maneuver you from the wall to the bed, you’d finally come back to yourself, able to delicately unbutton his uniform and not ruin it, before tugging it from its place tucked into his pants and tossing it across the room. The white shirt he had on beneath it was gone in seconds, too, and god, you wanted to admire him like a painting on the walls of a museum, like he was the Mona Lisa himself.

Like they say, it’s always the quiet ones. You shouldn’t have been surprised; he was in the Navy, after all. But you couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between your thighs from just a single look.

With a tiny yelp from your lips, your back hit the bed, and Bob was on top of you in seconds, drawing yet another moan from your lips. At this rate, there’d surely be a noise complaint in minutes. His leg wedged itself between your thighs, delivering just enough friction to have you squirming, while his lips locked back into your neck. From your jawline, all the way to your collarbone, Bob nipped at every inch of skin he could, blowing a short puff of air across over tender spot before leaving a searing kiss to it that felt like you were being branded. All the while, your hands roamed up and down every expanse of skin you could touch, His forearms to his biceps and every vein that ran along them, popping out from under his skin. The lean body that hovered over you now, nails ghosting along the lines across his stomach toward his chest that had a low grumble emitting from him. And in a moment of boldness, invigorated by the tension that had snapped between you both, your hand traveled lower, just barely grazing over the outline straining against his khaki pants, finally feeling for yourself just how big he truly was. And the groan that left him that time, wrecked and on the verge of falling apart, had a whole new flood of heat rushing through you.

In a show of his strength, Bob rolled you both again with just one arm. Suddenly, there you sat, straddling him as he lay below you, half naked, eyes blown wide behind those glasses, looking absolutely desecrated beneath you. The only sound that flickered through the room was the heavy pants from each of you, once again catching your breath and calming the firestorm of emotions in you both.

“So,” Bob had breathed out once he’d finally caught enough of his breath. “Y-You’re totally taking that transfer to San Diego, right?”

You’d let out a breathy laugh, swiping your hand down your face as you sent him a small smirk.

“In all honesty…I already accepted it. That was half the reason for this trip: to see my new office and meet my new coworkers. Meeting you, though…well, that’s just like the cherry on top,”

His grin was infectious, but your mind was elsewhere in the moment as you took your chance, simply grinding yourself down on the man below you with a smirk of amusement still on your lips. His smile was gone instantly, lips straining to hold in a moan as his hands gripped your hips tightly, forcing you to freeze in place so you couldn’t make that same move again.

“I-If you do that again, I’m not going to be able to stop myself,”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes, because I want to do this properly. I want to do this in order,” he huffed out a laugh. “Tomorrow, my day off. 7 p.m. I’ll pick you up. Il Fornaio, an Italian restaurant just on the other side of the island, right on the beach, with beautiful views of the water. We’ll eat, we’ll drink, and for dessert…a Cold Stone Creamery, barely a minute away. And if I can muster up the confidence to do it, I’ll make you mine before you’ve even taken a single scoop of your ice cream, because I don’t need a second date to know I want this. And then I’ll bring you back here, and then I’ll fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked, to be worshiped. God…I already don’t think there’s a single thing I wouldn’t do if you just asked me to.”

If you opened a dictionary, Bob Floyd would be painted under the word ‘perfection,’ and there was no doubt in your mind about it. Hell, he’d remembered the stupid story about your favorite ice cream shop you’d told him hours ago. You were about ready to ravish him on the spot.

“Sounds like you’ve had this planned out for hours now,” your voice had dropped into a whisper, laced with just pure awe for the man below you.

“Since the moment we first locked eyes across the bar. Had to add the ice cream bit in, later,”

And you’d laughed, something you had done all night with him. For a moment, you paused, smile stretching nervously, as something you’d been meaning to say all night, but had been stuck in your throat, was itching to finally be said. It terrified you, but you had to say it. Bob Floyd was an angel; he deserved to know what he was getting into.

“Well, that’s a yes to dinner, and everything that comes after. I’ll just have to make sure to tell my father I can’t have dinner with him after I visit the base tomorrow afternoon. I hope he doesn’t get too upset, you know how the, uh…how the Vice Admiral can be,”

It was like you’d just dropped a bomb, and you could see the aftermath in Bob’s eyes. The way he tilted his head from beneath you, before realization seemed to crawl into every feature of his face.

“The…the Vice Admiral. As in…Vice Admiral Beau Simpson, Cyclone…” it wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and all you could do was nervously nod your head as Bob let out yet another breathy laugh. “Your Uncle Solomon…Rear Admiral Solomon Bates, Warlock. Wow, how did I not figure that out?”

“Because I was really careful not to give it away,” you’d tried to laugh, nerves only calmed slightly by the little circles that Bob’s fingers were drawing into the skin of your waist where his hands still lay. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something earlier. But you were so sweet, and not to mention attractive, and it was so easy to like you…I was scared if you knew, you wouldn’t think it was worth it.”

Bob’s eyebrows furrowed as he shifted, sitting up on the hotel room bed now with you still positioned in his lap. One arm fully locked around your waist, the other taking your chin between his fingers to keep your eyes locked on him as he spoke.

“Why would I think that?”

“I dated a Navy man in college; he was a few years older than I was. He was excited for his reassignment; he was going to be training under my dad. But then, I told him that it was my dad, and he freaked. Thought he’d be treated unfairly if his superior knew he was dating his daughter. I just…I just didn’t want you to think I wasn’t worth the hassle. I know how my dad can be.”

Bob stared at you for just a moment before he pulled you into another kiss. Softer than any previous kiss the entire night, but firm, as if he was trying to drill something into you. Whatever it was, it was working, as your chest fluttered and your hands wound their way back into his hair. And barely a beat later, he’d pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, hand on your chin, cupping your jawline to hold you there with him.

“If in the end, I get you…anything is worth the hassle,”

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taurasiluvr · 1 year ago

Text

SIZE KINKS WITH MY FAVORITES !

including . . . paige bueckers, diana taurasi, emily engstler & caitlin clark

how you can help palestine

⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. lesbian... sex, a lot of it lmao. fingering, praise, size kinks.

⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p also just wanted to add i tried making this as inclusive as possible, if you are plus-sized, let me know if this was good !! its never my intention to make anyone feel left out, my writing is for EVERYBODY (except men)

PAIGE BUECKERS (slight nsfw)

⠀ ── ⠀paige is taller than most people, standing at around 5"11'. all her previous partners were taller/around her height so once she'd began dating you, everything kind of shifted and she loved it. she likes to tease you about it a lot – and yes, she is the type to purposely put the mugs on the highest shelf so that you call her over – and with some convincing (she loves seeing you struggle on your tippy-toes, trying to reach), she'll come and help you.

however, not only does she love it – it turns her on exponentially. the way she could easily push you around and assert her dominance in small, playful ways became an undeniable part of your relationship. she adored the way you looked up at her with those wide eyes, the mixture of surprise and amusement whenever she effortlessly moved you out of the way or pinned you playfully against a wall.

paige found herself reveling in the power dynamic, her hands lingering on you a little longer, her touches a little more deliberate. the height difference allowed her to envelop you completely, to make you feel secure yet electrified by her presence. she loved how easily she could lift you, how her strength contrasted with your smaller frame, and how it made her feel in control yet deeply connected to you. every time you called for her help, whether it was to reach something or open a stubborn jar, she felt a thrill run through her. it was more than just the physical act; it was the way you relied on her, the way you trusted her to take care of you in those moments. that trust, that dependency, was intoxicating for paige.

she wouldn't call it a kink per say – more like an aspect of your relationship that added an extra layer of excitement and intimacy. she loved the way you looked at her when she teased you, the playful spark in your eyes that matched her own. it was a game you both played, one that kept the flame of your relationship burning bright. and while she wouldn't call it a kink (it for sure is), she couldn't deny how incredibly turned on she was by the way your dynamics played out.

“need some help, shorty?” she called out as she walked into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with that familiar, mischievous smirk.

you sighed dramatically, “you know, you could just put things where i can reach them.”

“but where’s the fun in that?” she teased, stepping closer.

she pressed herself against your back, reaching up effortlessly to grab the bowl. you felt her breath on your neck, and a shiver ran through you. she lingered, her body warm and solid against yours, and you could sense her enjoying the moment. her arm brushed against your side as she placed the bowl in your hands, and she didn't pull away immediately. instead, she stayed close, her fingers lightly tracing the line of your shoulder.

“you're too cute when you struggle,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear.

you turned around to face her, your heart racing. the playful glint in her eyes had shifted to something deeper, more intense. she looked down at you, her height making you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

“it's not fair,” you said softly, but your voice lacked any real protest.

paige smiled, her hands coming to rest on your hips. she leaned down, her forehead touching yours, and you felt her warmth envelop you.

“that's too bad cus i really enjoy it,” she murmured, her lips dangerously close to yours. you scoffed, shaking your head dramatically as she laughed.

you could feel the heat between you both, a magnetic pull that had your pulse quickening. she loved having this slight edge over you, the way it made you look up to her – both literally and figuratively. unable to resist any longer, she closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. you responded immediately as her arms wrapping around you, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you feel even smaller in her embrace. the kiss deepened, and you melted into her, your fingers tangling in her hair.

when she finally set you down, you were both breathless. paige's eyes were dark with desire, and she pressed her forehead against yours once more.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” she whispered.

you smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “great. now, can we get back to making dinner? ’m starving.”

she laughed, a rich, joyful sound that made your heart soar. “only if you promise to keep needing my help with the high shelves.”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “m’kay.”

DIANA TAURASI (nsfw)

⠀ ── ⠀she knew what she was getting herself into the moment she began dating you. unlike paige, she would (and has) admitted to having a shameless size kink. diana towers over almost everyone, being 6ft and all – but it really gets her going when it's you.

in bed, she never ever shys away from showing you not only how small you are compared to her – but how strong she is. diana's eyes gleam with anticipation as she playfully pins you down, her muscular frame effortlessly holding you in place. the contrast between her towering height and your smaller stature ignites a primal excitement in her. she loves the way you fit perfectly against her, the way she can envelop you with her body and make you feel both vulnerable and protected at the same time. diana takes immense pleasure in using her height and strength to her advantage, positioning you just where she wants you, lifting you effortlessly, and holding you in place with ease.

she's fiercely confident, and it shows in every movement. diana knows exactly how to play with the power dynamic, teasing you with her dominance while also ensuring you feel cherished. her touch is commanding, yet tender, and she enjoys exploring the boundaries of her strength and your responsiveness.

when she's not pinning you down, she enjoys playfully lifting you, carrying you around, or simply holding you close to her, making you feel small and cherished. diana's size and strength are constant reminders of her presence, and she loves the way you respond to her, the way you melt under her touch, the way your breath catches when she effortlessly moves you. and again, it turns her on in a way she can't even begin to explain.

diana's enjoyment of her size kink isn’t just physical; it's also deeply psychological. she loves the way you look at her with a mix of awe and desire, the way your body reacts to her dominance, the way you crave the unique dynamic you share. it's an intoxicating power play that she never tires of, of strength and submission that fuels her passion.

diana's eyes gleam with anticipation as she pins you down, her muscular frame effortlessly holding you in place. the contrast between her towering height and your smaller stature ignites a primal excitement in her.

“look at you,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “so tiny beneath me.”

diana revels in this dynamic, the way you squirm under her dominance; it's a game she loves to play, and you're a willing participant.

she lifts you with ease, her hands gripping your waist as if you weigh nothing. you feel the heat of her breath against your skin as she whispers, “could hold you like this forever, princess.”

there's a possessive hunger in her eyes, a deep-seated desire to remind you of your place in her world. she seats you down on her lap as she spreads your legs, you could feel her breath fanning on your neck. she rubs your clothed pussy, earning a moan from your lips. her lips quirked up into an excited smirk as she watches your reaction.

“you like that, don’t you?” she teases, her voice low and husky. her fingers continue their relentless teasing, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. the friction, even through your clothes, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“such a good little thing for me,” she praises, her tone both affectionate and commanding. her free hand moves to your hip, holding you in place with a firm yet gentle grip. the intensity of her gaze never wavers, her eyes drinking in every expression that crosses your face.

she leans in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “love how responsive you are,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin. “every little sound you make, every shiver... it drives me crazy, baby.”

diana's hands grow bolder, one slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, the other continuing its tormenting touch. she revels in the way your body reacts to her, the way you arch into her touch, the soft gasps and moans that escape your lips.

“mine,” she murmurs possessively, her voice a mix of desire and adoration. “all mine.”

with each passing moment, the intensity between you builds, a potent mix of lust and intimacy that leaves you breathless. diana's dominance is unwavering, yet there's a tenderness in her touch that speaks volumes about her feelings for you.

her lips find yours in a searing kiss, full of passion and possessiveness. her hand moves faster, the pressure increasing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “wanna hear you, princess.” she demands softly, her voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

EMILY ENGSTLER (nsfw)

⠀ ── ⠀emily liked the fact she was much taller than you, but it wasn't until she finally slept with you when she realized how much it turned her on. in daily life, it was honestly just a plus for her – she loved holding your hips as she led you places, feeling the way you fit perfectly against her side.

she reveled in the little things, like reaching for items on high shelves for you or wrapping her long arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked. it made her feel protective and strong, and she could see the appreciation in your eyes, the way you leaned into her touch. and like paige, she'd never call it a size kink even though... it for sure was.

but it was in the privacy of the bedroom where emily's height advantage truly came into play. the first time she had you beneath her, your smaller frame dwarfed by her own, she felt a surge of excitement that she hadn't anticipated. the sight of you looking up at her, wide-eyed and eager, was intoxicating – it got her wet beyond comprehension.

she loved the way you responded to her, the way you would shiver under her touch, your breath hitching as her hands explored your body. emily found herself becoming bolder, her confidence growing with each gasp and moan she elicited from you the more you guys fucked. she'd pin your wrists above your head, her grip firm but gentle, and savor the sight of you laid out beneath her, completely at her mercy.

emily's dominant side thrived on your willingness, your trust in her. she enjoyed the power play, the way she could effortlessly maneuver you into different positions, the way her strength made you feel both vulnerable and cherished. it was a thrilling dynamic, one that brought you both closer together.

outside the bedroom, her dominance was subtler but no less significant. she'd guide you with a hand on your lower back, steer you through crowds with ease, always keeping you close. the height difference was a constant reminder of the bond you shared, a dynamic that seeped into every aspect of your relationship.

"you're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "love how perfectly you fit with me."

with a fluid motion, emily lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the bed. you gazed up at her, feeling a familiar thrill as she towered over you, her presence both commanding and comforting. she straddled your waist, her long legs framing your body, and leaned down to kiss you, her lips capturing yours in a slow, passionate kiss that left you breathless.

she pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire. "you like it when i take control?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

"yes," you breathed, your response immediate and sincere.

a smile curved her red lips as she pinned your wrists above your head, her grip firm but not painful. the weight of her body pressed against yours, a delicious reminder of her strength and dominance. she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "good," she whispered. "cus i love it too."

CAITLIN CLARK (nsfw)

⠀ ── ⠀caitlin never missed an opportunity to show you how small you are compared to her. whether it was easily pushing to the side or or lifting you up as if you weighed nothing, she reveled in the stark difference between your statures. it was a reminder of her strength and dominance, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill every time she did it.

caitlin's dominance showed in countless little ways, she loved wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you through crowds with an ease that made you feel safe and protected. her height allowed her to effortlessly reach things on high shelves for you, a simple act that never failed to bring a smile to her face. she enjoyed playfully teasing you about your size, her comments always laced with affection.

caitlin's physicality was a constant presence, whether she was picking you up for a quick kiss or pulling you into her lap while watching a movie. she thrived on the power dynamic, finding joy in the way you responded to her strength. your smaller frame seemed to increase her confidence, making her feel both powerful and nurturing.

her protective nature extended beyond physical gestures. caitlin was always looking out for you, her sharp eyes and quick reflexes ensuring you were never in harm's way. she took pride in being your rock, someone you could rely on no matter the situation. this sense of security and trust deepened your bond, reinforcing the unique dynamic that defined your relationship.

in more intimate moments, caitlin's dominance took on a deeper, more intense form. she loved exploring the contrast between your bodies, the way her hands could easily envelop yours, her arms strong and reassuring around you. she loved watching your reactions, the way your breath hitched and your body shivered under her touch.

she placed you gently on the bed, her hands lingering on your hips as she leaned down to kiss you. the kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart race.

caitlin pulled back, her eyes dark with desire as she looked down at you. "you're so perfect like this," she murmured, her hands sliding up your sides. "so small and delicate."

you shivered under her touch, the weight of her gaze making you feel both vulnerable and incredibly turned on. caitlin's hands were firm yet gentle as she pinned your wrists above your head, her body pressing against yours. the sensation of her strength holding you in place sent a wave of excitement through you.

"you like it when i take control, sweet girl?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

"yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

a satisfied smile spread across caitlin's face as she leaned down to kiss your neck, her lips leaving a trail of faint hickies in their wake. her hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a possessive hunger. she loved the way you responded to her touch, the way your body arched and trembled beneath her.

"so fucking pretty," she whispered against your skin, her voice full of adoration. "all for me."

her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan softly in response. caitlin hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as she positioned herself between your legs. her fingers teased your entrance, you were practically dripping and caitlin loved it.

"so wet and i haven't even touched you yet, baby." she mumbled as she looked down at you, her lips quirked into a smirk.

her finger slipped into your sopping cunt as your head fell back in pure ecstasy. she added another finger, then another and you swore you've never felt more full in your life despite it just being her fingers.

"let go for me," she urged, her voice a soothing command. "wanna hear you."

with each thrust, the sensations built within you, your moans growing louder as you neared the edge. caitlin's touch was everywhere, her presence overwhelming and comforting all at once. you clung to her, your body responding to her in a way that was almost instinctual.

when you finally reached your peak, you cried out her name, your body shuddering with release. caitlin held you close, her strong arms wrapping around you as you came down from your high. she kissed your forehead, her lips gentle and tender against your skin.

"my sweet girl," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection. "i love you so much."

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

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