#Story: Shutterbug | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

604to647 · 25 days ago

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Wife Material

1.9K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim wakes up in the hospital after getting shot.

Warnings: Minor angst/fear (don't worry, he's okay!), established relationship, nicknames as usual (Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous), fluffy fluff while Tim is high as heck on anaesthesia 🤣🤭 (a wee The Pitt reference).

A/N: HELLO I AM HERE 😅😆 Took an unintentional break from Tumblr/socials, but have been quietly writing in the background - hopefully there is still some interest 🫣🥰. Hope you've all been well and looking forwarding to being on here again! This story takes place after Tiny Tim, but as with all instalments of The Rockford Portfolio, can be read standalone. Inspired by TikToks of husbands on anaesthesia like this and this (and thank you to @maievdenoir for the idea!)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always / Series Masterlist

The hospital emergency waiting room is buzzing and chaotic, but you’re oblivious to it all as you race to the reception desk – all you can focus on is those three little words that have been playing on a loop in your head ever since Detective Arnold Calloway called:

“Tim’s been shot.”

Luckily, you’re able to go straight up to the intake receptionist; trying to keep the panic out of your voice, you ask, “Can you tell me where I can find Detective Timothy Rockford?”

“And you are?”

You give your name, then blurt out, “I’m his fiancé.”

“Are you his emergency contact?”

“I should be… Tim was supposed to submit the forms a while ago,” you choke up, “but he’s been so busy, I don’t know if he…” Your voice trails off, overcome that you might not be able allowed to see Tim because of some administrative red tape.

“No worries, let me just check on that, hun,” the nurse gives you a much-appreciated smile that you’re sure could calm even the most hysterical of visitors. These ER healthcare workers are heaven sent, you think as you patiently wait for them to finish typing. Just then, you hear your name being called and look up to see Tim’s captain by a set of double doors waving you over. Relieved, you bid the receptionist a hasty farewell and rush over to Captain Christine Mendoza, “Captain! Where’s Tim? Is he okay?”

The captain ushers you through the doors and down a hallway busy with rushing doctors and chattering patients, “He’s just come out of surgery. The bullet got lodged in his shoulder and the impact from the shooting caused a fall that exacerbated the injury. Luckily, the doctors got in there pretty quickly and the surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage was pretty straight forward. They’ll be able to tell you more – we’re almost there.”

Thanking her for the update, you round the corner to see cops littering a smaller, more private hallway, with a group crowding around a closed door - among them, Calloway.

“Arnie!” you cry when you see him.

As soon as Detective Calloway sees you, he shouts to the surrounding cops, “Hey, make room, let her through!” and pulls you into a tight hug when you get within arms reach.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your concern for Tim’s partner as deep as it is for your detective. “I am, thanks to Tim,” he opens the door and indicates for you to go in, giving you a tight smile that hardly cracks his worn, distressed face, “Doctor’s in there with him.”

Closing the door, you’re barely able to stifle your gasp at the scene before you. Tim lays unconscious on a propped-up hospital bed - various machines around him beep and whirl, monitoring his heartbeat and other vitals. His hospital gown drapes loosely over his right shoulder when you can see a crisscross of gauze bandaging his wound; on the opposite side of his body, tubes run up his sleeve, no doubt dispensing much needed painkillers from hanging IV bags to your injured detective.

You have to choke back a sob - he just looks so small.

Tim, your Tim, is a powerhouse, a force to be reckoned with. Even in the sanctuary of your shared home he exudes such a quiet strength, you’re used to him taking up a certain amount of space; Detective Tim Rockford’s colossal presence and the gravitational pull of his quality have been such a constants in your life, to see him like this nearly rocks your world off its axis.

“Mrs. Rockford?” The doctor who's been checking Tim’s bandages is now approaching; you nod, not bothering to correct his assumption.

“I’m Dr. Rabinovitch. Happy to report that Detective Rockford came through the surgery with flying colours - we were able to remove the bullet and repair the tissue damage without any issue. He has a few bone fractures that will require rest and a lightened activity load for the next few weeks but should otherwise heal on their own. After that, with a little bit of physical therapy, he should be good as new.”

You exhale such a loud sigh of relief, you barely hear Dr. Rabinovitch’s resulting chuckle; he continues, “Your husband should be coming out of the anaesthesia within the hour. He might be a little loopy when he does, which is expected. Please tell the nurses’ station when he wakes and they'll page me. Do you have any questions?”

Shaking your head, you thank the doctor profusely for taking such good care of your Tim, adding a request for him to kindly extend your gratitude to the rest of the surgical team. Settling into a bedside chair to wait, you smile when here the muffled sounds of celebration coming from the hallway where Dr. Rabinovitch has just repeated the news to the waiting officers.

The adrenaline that’s been coursing through your veins since Arnie called now waning, you tuck into the somewhat uncomfortable hospital chair, curling your legs up and letting your entire body relax to the repetitive sounds from the room’s medical equipment and the steady rise and fall of Tim’s chest.

After half an hour of sitting in the same awkward position, you get up to do a turn about the room and stretch your limbs; you’re just rolling out the stiffness of your neck when you hear a dry, gravely croak:

“Shutterbug…”

“Tim!! You’re awake!” you rush to the side of his bed, ready to cry happy tears, “How are you feeling, Detective?”

“I feel… groggy. And my shoulder feels… tight,” Tim looks down at his right shoulder with a frown, brow furrowing upon finding it wrapped in bandages beneath his hospital gown, “Oh. I was shot.”

His candour would be comical if the words themselves didn’t still make your chest tighten. Trying to stamp down your worry, you search Tim’s handsome face, “Does it hurt?”

Detective Rockford silently contemplates his shoulder, needing a moment for his thoughts to catch up with his observations before answering, “No, it just feels weird. I must be on a lot of drugs.”

You nod indulgently, “Do you remember what happened, baby?”

A far-off look overtakes Tim’s striking features as he attempts to recall, “We were on a raid.” He pauses, then frowns, “Mr. Pie was supposed to be there.” Unwittingly, you hold your breath, nervous for what’s to come.

“He got away,” the lines on Tim’s face deepen as they crease in concentration, frustration at the memory evident, “His guards shot at us.” To this, you let loose a soft noise of despair, causing Tim’s countenance to relax in sympathy, “I pushed Calloway.” Ah ha, you think, momentarily distracted, what Arnie said earlier in the hall makes sense now.

“Then… you.”

“Me?” your focus drawn back to Detective Rockford, confused.

“I saw you, Shutterbug. When I got hit, it was like a firecracker exploded... but I didn’t feel any pain. You appeared with a calming glow, keeping me protected and warm. Your comforting face was the last thing I remember before everything went dark, and now here you are again, having guided me to safety. My own personal angel.”

You don’t know how much of this is true or just the drugs talking, but you can’t help but be touched by your fiancé’s sweet words, “Oh Tim, I’m so glad you came back to me safe.” Tenderly brushing Tim’s hair off his forehead, you remember Dr. Rabinovitch’s instructions, “I’m going to go get the doctor, okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaning down, you press a soft kiss to Tim’s brow and place your hand over the one he has resting on his chest, giving it reassuring squeeze.

“Oh no!!”

Starting from your detective’s sudden exclamation, you fuss over him, worried, “What’s wrong, Detective? Does something hurt?”

“You’re… you…” Tim’s eyes are sad, his face scrunched up like he’s in pain, “you’re engaged?!?”

Amused, you follow the line of Tim’s stare to see that he’s gawking at the ring on your left hand. Oh goodness, he’s so high! Holding up the offending hand, you try not to laugh, “Yes, I’m engaged.”

“Then… then, I’m too late!! I don’t know why I thought I had a chance… you’re so beautiful and kind, of course you’re spoken for…” Tim’s hangdog expression would be downright humourous if he didn’t look quite so miserable. Suddenly, his head snaps up, expression sharp, “Is he good to you?”

Nodding, you say softly, voice warm and emotional, “Very.”

Tim’s face falls and he looks like he might start to cry, “Good. You only deserve the best, Shutterbug.”

“And I’ve got it,” you earnestly reassure him, “My fiancé is amazing - he treats me like a princess and makes me feel safe and loved every minute of every day.”

“Okay.” Sniffle. “He better.” Sniff, sniff. “If he didn’t… I would… I’m a cop! Do you know I’m a cop?”

“Yes, Tim, I know you’re a cop,” you giggle at his drug induced, crestfallen look, “You don’t have to worry, Detective. I’m very well taken care of.”

“Your fiancé is a lucky guy.”

“You know,” bringing your hand up to gently stroke Tim’s cheek, you run your fingers through his facial scruff, eyes full of affection as you smile at him, “I’m fairly certain that I’m the lucky one.”

Closing his eyes, Tim hums in appreciation at the soothing gesture, “Gorgeous, you can’t give me false hope like this. I’m willing to fight your fiancé for you.”

“Tim, you’re my fiancé.”

Detective Rockford’s eyes fly open, saucer like in disbelief, “Me?”

“Yes, Tim, you,” you beam at the dramatic change in the man’s demeanor.

“I asked you to marry me?” he uses his mobile arm to point at himself, still unsure that you’ve got the right guy, “And you said yes?”

Isn’t it obvious, Silly? Tilting your head, you make sure to lock your eyes to Tim’s, “Of course, I said yes! You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever known, Tim – I can’t think of anything I would rather do than spend the rest of my life with you.”

Detective Rockford’s rugged features melt into a dreamy expression, “You’re really going to be my wife?”

“And proud of it,” you declare with gusto.

“Huh!” He grins to himself, dopey and in awe, “Well, good for me!”

Leaning in and laying a sweet kiss to Tim’s waiting lips, you grin against his growing smile, “Good for me, too. I’m going to get the doctor now. And let your friends know you’re awake – half the precinct is lined up in the hall waiting for some good news. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“Well send them in, baby! If they want good news, I’ve got it: my dream girl said 'yes'!”

Laughing, you head towards the door; just as you’re turning the knob you hear, “Mrs. Rockford?” and spin back around to see what Tim might need.

“Okay, wow, I was just testing it out but I LOVE IT!”

“I think I’m going to ask the Dr. Rabinovitch how long it’ll take for this anaesthesia to wear off,” you giggle, “I’ll be right back, baby.”

“Come back to me safe, Shutterbug.”

“Nothing could keep me from you, Detective. I love you,” you blow Tim a kiss that he clumsily tries to catch, grasping his left hand wildly in the air before clutching it to his chest and laying back against his pillow, happy, “I love you more.”

Still chuckling to yourself, you head out into the hospital corridor to let the waiting cops know that Detective Timothy Rockford is going to be just fine.

A follow-up entitled 'Nice and Slow', taking place during Tim's recovery, has been written for @baronessvonglitter's Noun-iversary creative challenge and will be posted in June (oh! That's next week, where has the time gone??) for Adriana's Tumblr anniversary 🥳🥳!

Tagging a few people who have enjoyed Timmy and Shutterbug's stories in the past (thank you!): @milla-frenchy @lillaydee @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe @nandan11

@inept-the-magnificent @aurorawritestoescape @sawymredfox @harriedandharassed @greenwitchfromthewoods

@tuquoquebrute @vie-is-punk @misstokyo7love

#tim rockford #tim rockford fic #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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moonlitcelestial · 4 months ago

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Chapter 9

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 7,878

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 8)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Overthinking and mentions of an abusive family member. Read at your own risk.

Thanks for reading <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

You actually woke up to your alarm this time. It had been about a week since you got to hang out with the boys after their practice. You grabbed your glasses and swung your legs over the side of the bed to get your day started. Deciding that you were going to be halfway comfortable and halfway stylish you opted to grab a big My Chemical Romance shirt and some ripped up jeans. There was no telling if you were going to be sitting and monitoring cameras or if you were going to be wearing the harness and recording the boys talking to Atiny.

After getting dressed, packing your dobok (uniform) into your backpack with your laptop, and doing your morning routine you said goodbye to the giants. Stepping into the garage you grabbed your helmet quickly putting it on and you got on Ink to head to KQ. Before you took off you tied your hair back to make sure that it wouldn't be in your way. It was steadily getting warmer and you looked forward to being able to ride more often. Thankfully you had missed the early morning chill. You blasted some Ateez on the way and you had made it there just as the others had. Getting off the bike you took off your helmet and put it under your arm. You passed Willow who was nursing what was most likely her second cup of coffee. She nodded at you and got out of her car. Forrest and Aurora were already standing on the sidewalk chatting. You smiled as you approached them deciding you were going to be a pain in the ass. You put down your helmet and jumped on Forrest’s back as a greeting. He almost toppled over with you, Aurora was laughing at your antics. You knew that he would be able to catch you because this was a normal thing for you. Once he recovered he readjusted you and stood there with you on his back, he had just continued like nothing happened. Unbeknownst to you a couple of the boys had seen you and were almost steaming at you being on his back.

Willow approached the three of you, “Who is doing what today, we need to start setting up if practice starts in an hour.”

“I have no idea, want to play kai bai bo to figure it out?” You asked, scooting up on Forrest’s back.

“Sure,” Willow held her hand out “gawi, bawi, bo” each of you held out your hands, the three of them had chosen rock while you chose scissors.

“Oh fuck all of you,” you scrambled to get off Forrest’s back. You puffed your cheeks out, snatched your helmet off of the ground and stomped away.

“You get to wear the harness today,” Aurora shouted after you. You swiped your card and marched in toward the office. Setting your helmet down on your desk you started rummaging around in the office looking for the harness that you had to wear. You had found it tucked away in one of the storage closets. Someone had the common sense to hang it, thank god that thing was damned expensive. Honestly you didn't really mind wearing the harness it was more about how they all chose the same thing and you were the odd one out.

“Good morning Shutterbug,” you turned to look at Hongjoong. He was wearing a jean jacket, sweats and a cute hat. You felt all of the tension leave your body while you turned to look at him.

“Good morning Joongie,” you bowed with a small smile on your face.

“Aish, I told you don’t do that,” he dismissed you, walking into the room. You had forgotten that he told you that. He had gotten tired of you doing that within the first few days of you being around them. The rest of your team walked in shortly after he had plopped into your chair. You set the harness down on your desk and leaned over the back of the chair, you rested your hands on Hongjoong’s shoulders and sat your head on top of his.

“What is the plan for today?” Aurora asked the room.

“We are going to be going over the last bit of our choreography to clean everything up for the MV shoot next week. We were wanting to have three cameras around the room that are stationary and someone walking around with a camera just in case we have something we would like to say to Atiny. We plan to have practice for most of the day today.”

“Sounds good, I will be the one moving around today, but I will have my computer setup in the corner so we can stream all of the cameras to it again. Let's get moving so I have the time to make sure everything is situated before everyone starts getting here.” You stepped away from Hongjoong and smiled at him when he turned around in your chair to look at you.

You grabbed the camera you would be using and put it onto the portable desk you requested from KQ. They spared no expense and had gotten you one that had a little bit of storage. You put the other backpack with the streaming things onto it as you wheeled it toward the practice room. Everyone followed you out of the room after they grabbed their cameras, tripods and suction cups. Hongjoong was walking beside you, he had almost stolen the portable desk from you but you gently hip checked him out of the way. You could feel his eyes roll as you continued walking. You made it to the practice room and wheeled yourself into the back corner opposite of their setup. Gently you unpacked all of the things you needed. First the router, then the laptop. The team had come and taken the cameralinks to set up their cameras. You got everything booted up and checked the cameras that had started to connect up.

“Fuck, I forgot the harness” you groaned throwing your head back. Forrest, the perceptive person he is, walked over to you with the harness. “You're a lifesaver, I really didn't want to have to leave to go grab it.”

“Like we have said before, where would you be without us?” He remarked walking away after you took it from him.

“Probably out playing in traffic like a chicken with its head cut off,” Willow said from across the room. You flipped her the bird and Aurora laughed at you. Hongjoong chuckled from beside you. He always watched you set up if he was there. You looked at him and squinted, you pulled your glasses down your nose to glare at him. He fell into more laughter. You pushed your glasses back up and stuck your tongue out at him. He did the same to you and you heard someone snort. Looking around you saw the choreographer. He was watching you and Hongjoong like you were two teenagers in love.

You looked at your computer and checked the angles of the cameras. “Hey Rora, you need to adjust the side mirror camera to the left just a smidge, it isn't quite centered. Tree boy, the one on the front mirror looks good. Lo, yours needs to go slightly to the right.” They minutely adjusted their cameras and you gave them a thumbs up. You grabbed the harness from where you set it down.

Joongie, can you help me into the harness? It is fairly simple. All I need you to do is adjust the buckles and help me clip everything up.” He nodded to you and stepped back so you could get it over your body. Once you had it on you turned your back to him and pulled your hair out of the way. He was gentle with pulling on the straps as he swiftly fixed it to fit you.

“Is that okay? Do I need to make it looser or tighter?” He asked.

You did a mental checklist of where the pressure was and how much movement you had. “It feels good Joongie, thank you.” you grabbed the metal arm and put it into the slot, after you were sure it was secure you grabbed your camera. Making sure the cameralink was attached and where it needed to be you booted up the camera. As soon as you turned it on it started streaming its feed to your computer. You adjusted some of the camera settings to make sure the lighting looked good. Once you were satisfied it looked good you started walking around getting the feeling for having it on after so long. Hongjoong had stuck by your portable desk and watched as you went and spoke to the rest of the team.

As you were speaking to Aurora, Hongjoong spoke up to make sure his voice reached everyone. “I just got a message that the rest of the boys will be here shortly.” You walked back to your computer. You looked at your team, they were already watching you. You nodded at them and they turned on their portion of the recording. You pushed a couple of buttons on your camera and computer making sure everything was working correctly on your end. Aurora walked over to you and the portable desk to start watching the feed. Willow was going to head back to the office because she had a deadline she needed to meet. Thankfully if anything went awry she would be close. Forrest sat himself down in the front of the room right under the camera on the mirror. You made your way to the front corner of the room to get some decent angles for the dancing shots. Hongjoong and the choreographer had started up the music and were practicing while they were waiting for everyone else to arrive. Now it was time to wait.

Thankfully you did not have to wait long as the boys had started coming in one by one. The boys had started checking their choreography as everyone was showing up. Yeosang and Seonghwa appeared not too long after you had settled watching Hongjoong and the choreographer.

Were they trying to kill you? They both looked so good. Seonghwa with a backwards cap, a black tank top, and sweats. That man was so fine. Not to mention Yeosang, he may have had a cardigan over his tank top but the small glimpse of his arms had almost sent you into cardiac arrest. You were thoroughly intrigued by Yeosang’s choice of pants today. They had high slits on both legs which prompted him to wear what looked like leggings under them. You would definitely have to ask him where he got those.

They both approached you as soon as they caught sight of you. You turned the viewfinder to the front so they could check their appearance. Both of them checked themselves out and made a couple of faces at the camera. You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle at them. They looked at you with smiles and walked off to go start prepping their choreography before the rest of them got here. You rotated the viewfinder back as San came waltzing in. He looked to make sure he was out of the way before stepping beside you and speaking in a quiet tone, “what is that? I’ve never seen something like that.” You waved to Wooyoung as he came into the room.

“It is a harness and gimbal setup that keeps my camera steady when I am filming. It is especially helpful for days like today where I know I am going to be filming a lot.”

“Ahh, I see.” He said quietly, once he was satisfied he gave you a pat on the head and walked toward Yunho at the back of the studio with the computer. All of the rest of them greeted you with a smile as they wandered in and sometimes they stayed in front of your camera to check their reflection. You snickered at each one of them while they made faces at the camera. Little did you know they were doing it to get a reaction out of you and not for Atiny.

While you were waiting for everyone to get here Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung had taken to walking up to where you were standing and checking themselves in the flipped viewfinder; more often than you thought necessary.

As they were practicing the boys had gone in and out. You had giggled as they came back in time with their parts. Specifically when Seonghwa came in dancing backwards, and again when Mingi appeared with his sunglasses on. Those would have to be pulled from the mirror cameras to get the best shots. You pulled out your phone and texted Aurora. You watched as she grabbed her phone and hit a couple of buttons. She looked at you with a thumbs up. Through the years of working with each other you had come up with a quick system of silent communication. Ironically enough you learned it from the bastard who deleted your footage, he was all about shortcuts.

As the boys had continued practicing you knew that you would be doing lots of cuts back and forth to make sure you had most of the boys in your shots. When it came down to it you had made sure to follow the center person with your camera. Every once in a while you would catch one of them looking at you. They seemed to be acting as if you were their audience, which was going to technically be true because you would be filming them while they performed. On more than one occasion you caught them winking and smiling directly at you, you chalked it up to them flirting with the camera.

The time came for a break after about an hour of them practicing. You knew you had a short amount of time to go and grab drinks for everyone. You turned off your cameras recording and walked to the back of the room where the rest of your team was huddled up. Willow had reappeared and quickly came in a few minutes ago.

“I am going to get myself a drink, do any of you want anything?” You asked as you approached.

“I'll have a water if you don’t mind” Willow chirped

“I'll take anything with flavor!” Forrest replied shortly after

“I’m okay, I have my water.” Aurora motioned to her sticker covered tumbler sitting next to the computer.

“Okay, I will grab those and be back in a few minutes! Will one of you hold this?” You took off the arm from the harness with the camera on it and offered it out to them. Aurora took it from you. “Thanks!” You walked off following the trail of boys toward the drinks.

“Thank you for staying back for a minute, I have an interesting question to ask you. I ask that you be open minded with what I am about to ask.”

‘Okay, we are all ears.”

“We would like to ask if you think that Y/N would be remotely interested in joining our relationship.”

They all looked between each other with wide eyes. Smirks adorned their faces as they looked back to the man in front of them. They knew it.

“She has always been very open minded. I am not sure how she feels about poly relationships because I have not seen her in one, but I know that she is someone who loves wholeheartedly. I don't think she would be opposed, but more surprised.”

“Would you guys be okay with us dating her? We know that you are the closest thing she has to family here and we value your opinion.”

“I don't mind one bit, I will tell you that she is hesitant about relationships because she has been burned in the past.”

“I think that you guys will be really good for her, she deserves all of the love in the world.”

“I am hesitant because there are eight of you, but I can see how much you truly care for her so I know I will warm up to the idea. If any of you hurt her, I am not afraid of you being a very public figure, I have connections and know how to hide a body.”

“Duly noted, I will let the others know that as well.”

“We will support all of you, if anything we have been trying to get her to see how blatantly you guys have been flirting with her, she is so smart, but so oblivious.”

“We will see if we can get her to notice.”

“Thank you, for everything, your opinion on the matter means so much to us.”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“What do you think of the choreography so far?” Seonghwa asked you as you approached the stash of drinks.

“I really like it, I am so excited to see how they pull off the concept. I'm sure all of you will look so good with whatever they come up with.” You said grabbing a couple of waters and a gatorade for Forrest.

“Wait, Y/N!” You turned to look at San who was holding a Monster out for you. “I grabbed this for you, it is getting close to your nap time so I figured you would need some sugar.“ You looked at him in shock, you could feel the heat raising up your neck.

“That's my favorite, how in the world did you know?” You asked, taking it from his outstretched hand.

“I see you with Monster a lot, this is just the one I see you with most frequently so I took a guess.” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“You are the sweetest, thank you so much.” You kissed his cheek. His eyes got comically wide as you pulled away. You giggled and started walking back to the practice room. As you were making your way back to the practice room you could hear the laughter erupt behind you. San must be cherry red wearing that cute small embarrassed smile. When you got back to the practice room you handed the drinks to your team, took the camera arm and attached it while walking. You sat on the floor next to the farthest marker and smiled up at Yeosang who came to sit by you. Both of you sat in silence watching the rest of the boys, choreographers, and your team.

“I love being able to people watch, even though I hate people.” You watched as some of the boys were practicing to get something down. You turned to look at your team that was just hovering by the the laptop.

“I do as well, I have always wanted someone to sit and do this with as most of the boys get bored and don't pay any attention. I always like knowing what others perceive from watching others.”

“If you need someone to sit with and people watch let me know. I don't even mind if we aren't people watching and just sitting with each other. I am content just being in a room without talking.” You said with a smile. He looked at you and smiled but before he could reply Hongjoong called everyone back. You quickly put your vest back on and started recording again.

You watched as they started practicing again, in between all of the cuts you saw Jongho mess with Yeosang. He had a hold of his shoulders and was waving him around. You messaged Aurora again and she gave you a thumbs up. After a while you were watching them get back into the full swing of things

In between dancing Yunho had walked up to the camera on the mirror across the room from you. He started doing a little Ice on My Teeth dance while the others were lining things up behind him. You looked at Aurora. She was smacking Willow, who was standing beside her as calm as a cucumber. Her eyes were comically wide at the display, you didn’t text her this time because you knew she already bookmarked it. You chuckled at her, she had always been able to be calm around the boys but when it came down to Yunho she freaked the fuck out. He was her bias which was absolutely hilarious because she had his female counterpart for a wife. Both of them were such golden retrievers, she definitely had a type.

You suddenly got the craving for something sweet, you already finished your monster which deeply saddened you. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket and put in an order for you and everyone else. It wouldn’t be fair if you got something and didn’t share. You messaged Willow and asked if she would go out and get the drinks when they got here. A little while later you got the notification that they were here. You got Willow’s attention and gestured to the door. She nodded and silently made her way to go grab the drinks. She brought everything back in, handling the thirteen drinks beautifully. She grabbed hers and Aurora’s before heading back to the computer. You threw something small at Forrest to get his attention. His attention snapped to you as you pointed down to the drinks at your feet. His eyes immediately lit up and he slowly attempted to make his way over without being too suspicious, which only made him look more suspicious. You caught Aurora and Willow laughing in the back corner at him.

As soon as the boys started taking a break you got their attention and pointed to the drinks at your feet. Thank god you had taken note of what everyone liked previously, otherwise this would have been a disaster. They all lit up and made their way toward you.

“Everyone should have their own drink and one for the choreographer too.” You watched as they picked through the drinks and handed them out to each other. Each of them thanked you in their own way, Wooyoung, San, Mingi and Yunho hugged your sides being careful of the camera and harness. It was then that you noticed the ache starting to settle into your shoulders and legs. Fuck around, you had forgotten how harsh this was on your body, even if you were standing mostly still and leaning against the wall it did a number on you. It would be okay for a little while longer.

Jongho and Yeosang lifted their cups to you in a cheers motion. Seonghwa and Hongjoong smiled at you with small bows. The choreographer bowed politely and thanked you before moving over to the center of the room to talk to the boys as they rested. Most of the boys had wandered around the room listening to the choreographer as he addressed them. Mingi had a specific question about his movements and just as you were getting your camera to focus on him, San stepped in front of you.

He flirted with the camera a little before noting that the choreography was really cool. He gave you a thumbs up before he left. You looked over to Aurora and Willow and they were both snickering. You raised your eyebrow in question and they shook their heads at you. You offered a thumbs up to Aurora and she gave you one back indicating that she bookmarked the spot.

“He totally did that to just go talk to her.”

“Absolutely, the only thing is, did she notice or think of it like that? Or was it “just him speaking to Atiny”

Just shortly after you were watching the boys monitor their choreography when Mingi knocked over Wooyoung’s coffee. Hongjoong had freaked out just a little and you laughed at the whole situation. When Wooyoung got back from doing whatever he was doing he noticed his spilt coffee. Hongjoong jumped in and offered his two cents while they made up talking about a coffee date later.

You startled as Seonghwa approached. He had been in and out of the room and you hadn’t noticed him amidst the chaos. He had stepped beside you and gently put his head on your shoulder. You smiled and put your head on top of his. You could feel your heartbeat pick up and you worried that he might be able to hear how fast it was beating. Glancing over to Aurora and Willow they were already looking at you and they had raised eyebrows. Aurora broke out into a smile at something Willow whispered into her ear. She over exaggerated a wink in your direction. You rolled your eyes and looked back to your camera. Just as quickly as he appeared he left, you watched him walk back over to the choreographer and start asking questions.

You turned to look at Forrest who was at the zero mark just waiting until he was needed. “Psst, Forrest,” he looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “Can we trade for a bit? This harness is starting to hurt me.” He nodded and stood up, making sure to avoid the camera above his head. Gently and quickly you took off the harness and helped him get settled into it. Once you both were satisfied that everything was okay you ducked under the camera and walked out of the room. Thankfully you had stashed some pain medication in your KQ office.

As you wandered through the office you passed many people waving at the ones you recognized. You had passed Eden and the rest of his crew. They waved at you with large smiles. You had become close with them over the past few weeks. Generally new people freaked you out but just as soon as you got to know them you realized they were just like the boys just a little older.

You just turned the corner to the office before you heard Willow calling out your name. You turned to look at her and smiled. She caught up to you and threw her arm around your shoulder. You held back your wince and walked the rest of the way to your office.

“Are you okay, are your legs hurting you again?” She asked once you closed the door. You nodded and went to your desk digging through it to find the pain meds. You downed the pills with a drink of water you left here the other day.

Yeah, that and my shoulders, that damn thing can get heavy after having it on for hours. You bent your leg to get your knee to pop to see if it would relieve some of the pressure. It did, but you let out a groan because it also hurt like hell for a second. You glanced at Willow as she winced. You knew she was remembering when you told her about what happened in college. Which made you think back to the entire ordeal.

You had been filming something for a school project and one step wrong while you were framing a shot led to it popping out and right back into place. Being the busy dumbass you are you didn’t rest properly after doing that and you had to get a surgery to fix the instability. Which led to you being out for almost a year learning how to walk again. On the plus side you did have a gnarly looking scar on your left knee. You put your foot back on the ground and tested your weight on that leg. Thankfully you were stable, sometimes you wobbled after a pop like that.

“Come on, we should probably get back, the boys were taking a quick break before starting to film the full thing.”You nodded and started to walk toward the door, you almost got smacked in the face with how quickly the door swung open. You leapt back just a little and looked to see who had flung open the door. Yunho stood there with a large smile.

“Damnit Yuyu you almost took me out,” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the tall man. Making a shooing motion you ushered him out of the doorway so you could get back to the practice room. He threw his arm around you as soon as you got into the hallway. You felt the twinge of pain flare up at the place he rested his arm around your shoulders. You shook your head at him and turned to look at Willow who was just a step behind you. She was smiling at you mischievously. You ignored the look and turned to look at Yunho, he was smiling at some of the people you passed by. His face was a little red from practicing all day. The thing that caught you most was when he turned to look at you, his eyes widened just a hair and you saw his face get just slightly more red. He held eye contact with you for what felt like a millisecond before greeting Eden and his team.

This man is so beautiful. His personality shines so brightly when he is surrounded by the people who support him. You could tell that everyone here cared for him, and he them. Most of the people you passed greeted him, and by extension you. You smiled politely and kept walking. Not even half of those people had greeted you, even some of the ones you recognized.

Why would someone like him want to be associated with you? Why would someone so much like a ray of sunshine want to be anywhere near someone who was a shadow. You could feel yourself falling into your old habits, ones that weren’t mentally healthy. You could see the light he brought to a room. How well loved he is and compared yourself to him, how could you not; especially when it was all you grew up with.

Why can’t you be more like them? Why can’t you have a social life like them? Why do you stay in your room all the time? Why haven’t you found yourself a boyfriend yet? Why aren’t you going to school for something actually useful like a doctor? How come all you wear is black? Why not add some color to your wardrobe?

Before you even realized you were back in the practice room. Forrest was hanging out talking to Yeosang and San about something. You pulled away from Yunho and headed to where Forrest had been. You sat against the mirror. Closing your eyes you focused on the cool seeping into you, it was grounding. Focusing on your body however leads you to feel the pain of your shoulders and knee. You raised your right hand to gently massage the junction between your shoulder and neck. You opened your eyes to see Hongjoong and Jongho looking at you with concerned looks on their faces. You waved them off with the hand that was massaging your shoulder. You let your other hand rest on your knee to put some pressure on it so maybe it would stop hurting so bad.

“One more time and then we run it through to record it.” You heard the choreographer say from the side of the room. Everyone shifted back into being professionals and you watched as they almost flawlessly danced to the rhythm pumping through the speakers.

“Y/n, can you record this or me while I watch?” The choreographer asked you. You nodded and stood up slowly bracing your hands on your knees. Everyone went to the mirrors to cover them. Once they finished you grabbed your phone from your pocket and started the recording. You had taken some creative liberties with the recording, making sure to follow the leads and get closer to the choreography as needed. Once they finished dancing you walked to the back with them to plug in your phone so they could watch the video.

“I love the angles you got Y/n,” Yunho said, his eyes not leaving the monitor. The rest of them hummed in agreement. You heard someone behind you and turned to find a couple of people you didn’t recognize. You took a step to the side, effectively running into Jongho. You smiled sheepishly at him and subconsciously rubbed your shoulder. Taking a step back you felt your heel catch something. You stopped all movement and realized it was one of the new people. You muttered a sorry as he stepped aside to let you out. Quickly stepping away from the huddle of men you released a breath. You went to the only solid wall and leaned against it. Your heart was beating a little faster and you could feel your breath coming out a little quicker. You closed your eyes and tightened your hands into fists. Now isn’t the fucking time for this.

You aren’t there, you are here. You could feel your heartbeat slow a little as you muttered the affirmation to yourself over and over. You are surrounded by good people, not your father and his friends. You aren’t their punching bag, they are normal people. Your breathing started to even back out from the erratic pattern. Thinking about that wretched man has always sent you into a more sensitive state. He haunted you even after all this time, you could feel the ghost of him at your back sometimes; just waiting to grab you and throw you around. You could still hear the hurtful words that he had thrown at you. Once remembered they chimed through you like a bell; the reverberations always lingering. You opened your eyes and counted down from twenty releasing a long breath.

Thankfully the boys hadn’t noticed as they were too wrapped up in their monitoring. Aurora, Willow and Forrest did though. You could feel their looks on you. You turned to the side and looked at Aurora and Willow. Willow mouthed “are you okay?” you gave her a small nod and looked back at the boys. They had separated and were chattering about how to fix some of the more minute details. You went and grabbed your phone before heading back to the front of the room awaiting further instructions. You watched as the choreographer went over things with a couple of the boys. Yeosang had wandered out of the room for something and as he made his way back you watched as he closed the door with his butt. You couldn't hold back the laughter that erupted from you. His gaze snapped to you as he realized that you were one of the only ones who saw him. He blushed cherry red and put his head down wandering toward the monitor in the back.

Everyone had practiced a little more and as Wooyoung was leaving the monitoring station he yelled Movement check and you watched as Seonghwa glared at him and shook his head. You lightly laughed at the reference.

The rest of the day went smoothly you had only had to do a couple more takes of them doing their thing until they were done. You helped Forrest out of the vest and carried it out of the room. Aurora and Willow were quick to dismantle the rest of your setup and made their way after you and Forrest. Once you were happy with where everything was you grabbed your helmet and started toward Ink.

“Hey Y/N want to go out to eat with us?” You turned around and were met with San and Yunho.

“If it were any other day, I would love to but I have weekly plans.” You responded, hefting your backpack over your shoulder. Your laptop and your change of clothes which made it fairly heavy. Thankfully the meds had kicked in and you were relatively pain free.

“Ahh I see, well I hope you have fun! We will see you soon,” San said with a large smile and a hug.

“Thank you, see you soon!” You replied, returning the hug and giving Yunho one as well. You meandered the rest of the way to Ink before heading out. You needed the reprieve from today and this was one of the few ways you could escape. You felt the wind in your hair as you drove to one of your favorite places. After a short drive you arrived at The Black Dragon. You have been coming here for just over seven years. It had become a home away from home. When you did some looking into it, and after a few unsuccessful classes, you fell in love with this studio and how their people treated you like family. The owners treat everyone with kindness and are some of the most open minded people you have met.

You got off of Ink and toted your backpack into the dojang. They had all greeted you with warm smiles as you made your way to the small bathroom to change out of your outfit into your all black dobok. You had been recently instructing some of the younger children in your free time before your class took place. You absolutely loved being able to connect and teach them and you seemed to be a fan favorite of the parents because of how you responded to their kids. Most of the time you had heard complaints that the other instructors elsewhere were too hard on them but you pride yourself on being understanding and kind to them. They were little kids after all.

You walked out to the main room and saw some of your students stretching and having fun. Once they noticed you they all ran to hug you chattering about the week they have had since they last saw you.

“Sabum-nim, have you had a good week?” You heard one of the boys ask you.

“Yes, I have had an excellent week.” You ruffled the boy’s hair as you walked past him to the front of the room. When you were satisfied that everyone was here you started the class. You went through the basics just like normal. Going through the lines of children you made small adjustments to some of their stances. Once you were satisfied with how they had progressed you started teaching them something new.

About an hour later you dismissed the class and greeted some of the parents that had been sitting and watching the class. They all loved to chatter about how the children practiced at home and how much they adored you. Once all of the young children and their families left, all of the adults started filing in. Your class was about to begin, this was something that you looked forward to each week. It helped you release the tension that you were holding. You started your basic stretches, your mind and body falling into autopilot. You were so in your zone that you hadn't noticed a person speaking to you until they put a hand on your shoulder as they walked around in front of you. Because you were in your zone your instinctive response was to knock them on their ass. You kicked at their knees, wrapped your arm around the one on your shoulder, jabbed them in the throat, and knocked their legs out from under them. You heard his shout which brought you back to reality. You looked down to the person who had scared the shit out of you to notice it was a man. You had never seen him before in all of your years coming here. Some of the other people that had been stretching beside you snickered as the man that was on the floor groaned. They knew better than to touch you without your permission especially when you were warming up. They knew how you got after years of learning beside you.

“Ah I see you've met Ji-ho.” You heard Iesul speak from a few feet away. She was one of the women that started about the time you did. You smiled wide at her and walked over to her. She had been away from practice because she just had a baby, you must have missed her the past couple of times because your schedules did not always line up. You stretched your arms out to offer her a hug and she gladly accepted.

“I've missed having you around, how are you? How is your beautiful baby?”

“I am doing well, the baby boy is doing well too, this is one of the first couple times I have been back since I have had him.” She responded with enthusiasm. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “He has been here almost every day since last week according to the owner’s wife. He seems to think he is the shit and has been hitting on some of the women around here. If you ask me I think he needed to be knocked down a peg.” You laughed at her and the rest of the people in the short vicinity of you did as well.

You heard someone clap and you turned around and moved to get into your place next to Iesul. You all bowed to Instructor Chung Ae as he looked down to the floor at Ji-ho who was still in the fetal position clutching his windpipe.

“What are you doing?” He deadpanned. You held back your snicker at his monotone question. He was one of the goofiest men you had met, once you got to know him. You and he had become close over the years. He and his wife had often given you some of the food they had prepared for dinner to take home. He always treated you well and held you to a high standard. Much like a father figure would. He was the closest thing that you had to a true father, even though you only saw him about once a week.

“Y/N handed his ass to him after he touched her while she was in her zone.” Someone piped up from the back. Everyone snickered at the response. Instructor Chung Ae looked at you and raised his eyebrow. You smirked and shrugged at him, he smiled at you shaking his head.

“Get up, if you cannot understand the personal space of other people, or take a couple of punches, you can see yourself out.”

Ji-ho got up off the floor and glared at you. You had seen worse glares from babies. All you did was smile at him which seemed to piss him off further. He took his spot toward the back of the room and you turned back to Instructor Chung Ae. Once he was satisfied that Ji-ho was not going to be any more of a hindrance he began the class.

You continued with everyone for about an hour. Your movements seemed to be smoother and your head clearer once you were finished. The earlier fog and lingering thoughts had dissolved away the more you went through the motions. This class has always brought you clarity, sometimes you came here to clear your mind when you needed inspiration for shoots. There was just something so cathartic about losing yourself in the movements. Most of the time you would join in on whatever class was going at the time, and if it was late you just went cruising on Ink.

After changing and stopping to chat with some of the other people around you said your goodbyes and made your way out to Ink. As you approached you noticed someone standing next to it, Ji-ho.

Of fucking course.

“What's up?” You asked as you approached him and your bike. You were really hoping that he was out here to apologize for invading your space. If you knew his type though, it would be the absolute opposite. Thankfully if he made a scene you had parked close enough to the front of the dojang that they would see you.

“What the fuck was that in there? Why did you have to embarrass me in front of everyone? I demand an apology.” He got very close and in your face. This man was really asking to be not only punched but laid out on his ass again.

“First of all, please step the fuck back and get out of my face, we have already established I can put you on your ass. Second of all, if you hadn't noticed, we are close enough to the front of the dojang that we have an audience.” You said looking over your shoulder. There were several people watching you in the window, including Instructor Chung Ae and his wife. “Third of all, I am not afraid of people like you in the slightest. You may act like a big macho man but all you are is a weak ass little boy. I heard about you from a couple of the people there and I can guarantee if you take one more step out of line you will be banned from this establishment. Fourth, you do not deserve an apology for something that could have been prevented by using your common sense to not touch someone when they are not paying attention. So I very highly suggest that you walk the fuck away before anything else happens.” you stated.

He looked at you very unimpressed. He reached out to grab you but before he could even fully raise his arm you heard the ding of the front door. Instructor Chung Ae and his wife came out of the building, you took a side step and bowed to the couple. She had a small thing of tupperware in her hands and a large smile as they approached you.

“Everything okay out here Y/N?” Instructor Chung Ae asked as he approached the two of you.

“That is up to him,” you said, poking a thumb over your shoulder.

“Everything out here is great, I was just complimenting her on her bike, it is very beautiful.” Ji-ho said with a tight lipped smile.

Instructor Chung Ae’s wife stepped closer to you, handed you the tupperware and said “you forgot your dinner inside, we figured we would bring it out to you and thank you for helping instruct the children, they seem to love you.”

You bowed and accepted it with both hands. “Thank you!”

“Well if everything is okay out here we will let you get home Y/N,” Instructor Chung Ae said, clapping his hand on Ji-ho’s shoulder practically dragging him back inside. Instructor Chung Ae’s wife stayed behind for a second.

“Are you okay? She whispered to you.

“Yes I am perfectly fine, for the safety of the others I would highly recommend him being banned. He was out here demanding an apology and being a complete asshole. I am sure if you hadn't come out he would have ended up back on his ass.” You said in a hushed tone.

“Consider it done, we will see you next week," she said cheerfully. She turned around and walked back to the building. You looked down at the tupperware in your hand and couldn't help but to be thankful for the two of them and their dojang.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 10)

Taglist:

@breadedloafs @a-short-ass-disappointment @ateezswonderland @staytinyluv @cherryangel-coke @11glitch11 @neivivenaj @herpoetryprincess @premverse @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @sol3chu

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sxprot · 3 months ago

Note

Hello there, I really like your writing and story, i've been thinking maybe a Dandy and sheep toon reader where the reader is a sweet anthropomorphic baby doll sheep wearing an outfit similar to little red riding hood, the sheep toon likes Dandy and doesn't really cared about what the other toons told them about him but they're a bit taller than him, and Dandy likes them but can be afraid of her since she's a sheep, the natural predator of plants and flowers (and he literally resembled a flower)

[This is basically my drawing of what they look like in their relationship]

======================

Basically ; the reader is super nice and friendly to the other toons, including Dandy, and would always give him some tapes and Dandy (despite him feeling like he wanted to run away from them) he tried to act calm and friendly towards, even if they're both twisteds together, he's still cautious around her but also secretly has a crush on them despite his fear.

Note: Dang, this shit is cool as hell. By the way, idk if you want the reader to be gn or a girl since the switch between pronouns left me confused. But I will go with f!reader then, ahem. You could view it as gn too! Also, I hope this makes sense, haha! Sorry for my bad grammar btw.

Dandy x sheep!reader

Divider cred: rubystims n cafekitsune

You heard about Dandy, about the rumors, about his personality. You don't usually get the chance to talk with him much, judging by the fact that he's busy with all the attention that the audience gives to him, shutterbugs everywhere as you slowly fade into the darkness, giving a last glance before a good farewell to the area.

You thought he was friendly, kind, and helpful. And that the others were too judgemental toward him. Whenever the shopkeeper passes by, you always look at him, wondering if you could go and strike up a conversation.

Despite doing so, he never stays that long, you were confused when he suddenly apologized and left, with an offer to meet you on a lovely afternoon. You wonder if you accidentally scared the living daylight out of him, and why is he so spooked out.

Standing there without knowing the true reason, you leave with the guilt in the pit of your stomach.

Even in the ichor infection, you tried your best, to let Dandy that you just wanted to be friends and to let him warm up to you. But any attempts remained futile as he showed no signs of relaxing, even a tad bit more distressed than you had thought.

Dandy thought it was silly, and wondered why do you keep on doing this? Maybe out of curiosity as he has imagined, simply clueless on why he's been acting like this.

But eugh, his instinct has been the worst, dodging and hiding from your sight too. Even seeing your Twisted form didn't subdue his worries...

But still, Dandy always looks out for you, the images of you being hurt irritate him a bit.

Sorry if it's short D:

#dandys world #dandy's world x reader #dandys world x reader #dandys world fandom #x reader #dandy x reader #dandy dandys world #dw dandy

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Over the past three months, your career has grown by leaps and bounds. Yet at the same time, you can't help feeling dissatisfied. A lot of your feelings stem from what you did the last time you saw him. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. It had been fun, in the hangar, under the dead of night - passionate and hot. So too had been the video you filmed and the pictures you'd snapped. But hindsight, well, maybe there is a reason why they say "Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty". Because Jake hasn't called, despite how badly you want him to. A new assignment in North Island might have the potential to change everything for Jake and our Shutterbug, including how they approach everything they hold dear.

Warnings: Once again, this is just some porn with plot. The feral plot bunnies ran away with me, I fear.

Word Count: 8502

A/N: Hiya everyone! I'm baaack! Enjoy this sequel to my fic Photo Finish. It's just as smutty and gorgeous as the last one!

This fic is brought to you all by the constant support of @horseshoegirl, @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern. You're all my heroes and I love you to bits for keeping me from ditching this story before it even started! I couldn't have written it without you!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

An old photography teacher of yours once told you never to submit photos with lens flares to any publication, magazine or contest. He considered lens flares the biggest mistake for a rookie photographer. He’d declared, quite adamantly in front of your entire class, using your pictures as examples, how lens flares made photos look cheap and low quality. Given his dislike of the trick of light, he’s also taught you a plethora of tricks to prevent them. Over the many, many years since you left his class, you’ve started to relax and deviate from the rigid rules of photography he once taught you. For a large portion of your career, you've been photographing subjects which cannot be posed in a studio, which helps. Every snick and whir of your camera feels like you are letting go of rules and embracing your art.

You’ve always heard wildlife photography has a tendency to relax photographers' attitudes. It’s a truth you’re very thankful you had the chance to experience. After all, there are no rules when it’s just you, your camera and what feels like the entire world a hair's-breadth away from your camera lens. It’s hard to be frustrated with the sun glancing across your camera lens when it highlights fox kits gamboling in dewy spring grass. Or elk on a frost-bitten winter morning with clouds of their breath dissipating into the clear air. Those pictures were once-in-a-lifetime shots, perfect in their imperfection and richer with the sparkling halos of light.

Being back in New York after years of traveling has made you appreciate the photographs you took even more. Now you feel like you can fully appreciate the wilderness in them. New York is wild in an entirely different way. It’s louder, greyer, more populous, yet just as vibrant. In New York, you’ve been able to capture human nature, snapping minuscule interactions between people who are always in a hurry and always moving. But you also have to work to make enough money to fund your passions. Not having to travel helped bring some stability to your passions. But of all of the things you thought you'd be photographing, fashion models and clothes were never an option. In a way, photographing fashion and fashion models is capturing another kind of wild animal in your lens sights. Models and designers are wholly proprietary and protective over what they consider theirs, whether their clothing or their aesthetic appearance. You’ve had to shoot and reshoot, as well as touch up your photos more than you've ever had to before. Of course, in this case, your primary objective is to make the models and the clothes they are wearing look otherworldly and incredible.

At first, the thrill of doing something new was alluring and exciting. But after a year, trapped in New York City, doing the same thing and working with the same people day in and day out, you can’t help but miss wildlife photography. It's like a persistent ache below your breast bone, something calling you back to the life you lived before. You're missing traveling in arid deserts and verdant forests even more now. And then the US Navy came calling. Now, while you miss the wilderness, you think you might just miss something else, more.

It’s late, half-past three in the early hours of the morning, and you’re sitting out on the balcony attached to your overpriced shoebox of an apartment. You’ve found yourself sitting out here more and more as the summer heat turns into the cool of fall. Your balcony is so small there’s only room for a single chair, and your feet are propped up on the wrought iron railing. New York’s the city which never sleeps and the crackle and groan of the city resonates around you. Your oldest camera, a Canon you bought in college with the pennies and dollars you’d saved from tips earned from waitressing, sits on your lap. All night, you’ve been trying and failing to chase away how unsettled you’ve been feeling by peering through the viewfinder and trying to see things from a different perspective.

But it hasn’t worked. You've been feeling discomfited of late, unsettled and restless. Maybe your listlessness has something to do with your next assignment. You can’t lie, not even to yourself no matter how hard you try. It has everything to do with your next assignment. You should be excited. You should be asleep, because at least if you were asleep, the time would pass sooner. For once, you will not be photographing a new designer collection. In the morning, you're flying to San Diego to take pictures at North Island Naval Base for a follow-up piece sanctioned by the US Navy. Your team is joining you, which should be a comfort, albeit slight and slim. There will be more planes to photograph and possibly shots you can take from within the cockpit or from up in the air.

It took three months to publish the article on the US Navy’s newest hotshot aviation squadron. There had been countless revisions and rounds of approval with the US Navy's Office of Public Relations to greenlight the endeavor. It's been exactly the same amount of time since you met the Dagger Squadron, too - only three months after you edited the photographs, focusing maybe a little too much on one face in particular. Three months after you took the biggest risk of your life, professionally and personally. Three months after you made a sex tape with a client. It doesn’t help that he was a memorable client, too - and how you haven’t been able to forget him.

It's only been two weeks since the magazine hit newsstands with your picture of the Daggers in all their finery near one of the jets on the front cover. Everywhere you go, it seems you see their faces - his face. Your phone has been ringing off the hook ever since. Everyone wants you to take professional portraits of their clients. But your phone has never had the voice you so desperately want to hear on the other end of the line. It's a nationally distributed magazine, after all, and like everything nowadays, published both physically and digitally. The magazine had also mailed special copies to each member of the squadron which was your subject. So he has to have seen it. So why hasn't he called? It's the one question on your mind. It may be the only question on your mind, but it's far from the only thought in your mind.

Chances are, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. After all, why would he want to?

You couldn't silence the thoughts if you tried - and you have tried, repeatedly. Getting drunk made you maudlin, going out had you seeing his face in every stranger’s and getting laid had made you wish you were with him rather than anyone else. Over and over again you’ve found yourself thinking about those last few moments with him, agonizing over every detail, from the kisses and touches to the last time you saw him. Maybe you hadn’t been entirely clear in your note to him. You can recall the note as if you wrote it yesterday, the note you'd affixed to the flash drive you handed him.

Sure, you told him to call you when he was in New York next. But really, you wanted him to call you, period. Or text you. Something, anything to show you’re lingering in his memory in the same way he lingers in yours. You thought your dalliance had been memorable enough. You hoped you were memorable enough. After all, it's not every day you let a man fuck you up against his jet and record it, forget a man you’ve known only for a few days. Maybe it’s a little silly how attached you’ve gotten to him, given the short time frame, after what should have been completely meaningless sex.

But it’s not meaningless anymore, at least not to you, after how many times you've seen the video since you last saw him. Your camera hadn’t hidden a single thing when you made your little home movie all those nights ago. You’ve seen how his hands had been gentle, his eyes soft. Your entire countenance had been beckoning, beguiling in the throes of passion, needy in a way you’ve never let yourself be before with anyone else. He’s also spoiled you for any other man on the planet - or at least in New York. You haven’t hit the same heights since him, and a part of you is sure you never will again. And now you have to enter the lion’s den, venture right into enemy territory with your head held high and only a camera to shield your too-hungry gaze.

A thump on the railing drags you out of your reverie. Your neighbor’s escape-artist black cat makes himself at home on the railing, paws flexing as his tail lashes through the humid night air. Like you’re in a dream, you lift up the camera and peer through the viewfinder. Tonight, everything seems to be coming back to lens flares. The neon lights fracture in your camera lens, softening the visage of the cat on the railing, green eyes luminescent. With reflexes born of years of wildlife photography, partially stunted after nearly a year of fashion photography, you depress the shutter with a soft snick and a near-silent whir. What you’re left with is a long exposed image - neon lights blurring in the background as one shines behind the cat’s head. Even his fur is blurred, only green eyes in focus, piercing into your soul. It’s perfect, as expected, and you hope it’s an omen for the days to come while you’re in San Diego.

Green eyes, different from those of your neighbor’s cat, haunt you, even more, the following day as you pile out of one of the minivans the studio rented for you and your team, as well as all of your equipment, on the tarmac at North Island. The humid, sticky air stinks of jet fuel and salt water. The wind brushes past you, snatching at your hair and ripping your sun hat right off your head. It's hot as it brushes by, providing no relief to the insistent heat.

Your team just laughs as you chase, bedraggled and exhausted, after your hat. The wind pushes you towards the hangars at the end of the tarmac, colossal doors thrown open while rows of jets stand gleaming. For the first time, you think you understand why Jake is so in love with being up in the air in his jet, how close to the elements he must be with adrenaline coursing through his system. You raise the camera resting against your chest, leaving your hat to fly where it wants, because you have to capture this.

When your camera focuses, you start snapping with abandon, capturing the sun-drenched metal and heat waves rising off of the pavement. You’re not sure what pictures the editors will select to go with the article the journalist is going to write. Regardless, you’re stealing the time to take some filler shots now, when it’s bright out still, and blindingly golden outside. Your team is far behind you, still clustered by the cars, as you trail between the shining metal hawks, cockpits closed and emblazoned with names and callsigns. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see his jet, the text dark and fresh, announcing he’s been promoted. So, he's still operating out of Naval Air Station North Island.

Faintly, you can hear voices emanating from one of the open hangars, so you creep closer, your old Canon camera clutched to your chest like it can protect you. Twenty-four of the US Navy's best aviators are saturated in gold, settled in creaking plastic chairs. Jake’s at the podium, laser pointer in hand, completely relaxed as he talks about things you couldn’t understand if you tried. The light glints across his face, catching angelically on the burnished strands of his hair. A singular fluffy lock has broken free of his hair gel’s hold, trailing softly across his forehead. It makes your fingers ache to push it back into place. But you can’t, because you won’t interrupt or embarrass him. So you take pictures instead, breathlessly, silently, framing the aviators limned in gold like they’re deities waiting to go to war.

You’re not sure when it happens, but he sees you - bright green eyes colliding with yours, a nearly imperceptible frown creasing his brow before the skin smooths. He doesn’t look happy to see you. In a way, it makes sense. You were just a one-night stand, something sexy to indulge in - not someone he'd want to keep forever. The look lances through you, skewering you in place as the wind and sun stick your blouse to your back. He doesn’t acknowledge you but for one curiously blank look, and you’re mortified as you walk silently back to your crew, who are now grouped around the jets in awe.

As expected, Adam and Lea, your stylists extraordinaire, are already scribbling away. Lea's flicking through the tablet in her hands. If you were a betting woman, you'd bet good money they are already planning outfits to take advantage of the blue, gold and white theme of North Island.

“Hey, Boss!” Amy, your assistant, is nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. You're not sure how she's so energetic despite the heat and the hours of travel. “Our liaison should be joining us soon. They'll give us a tour of the base and then show us where we'll be setting up shop this week.”

She doesn’t notice how frozen your smile feels and how mechanic your nods are. All you can think about is Jake. He must have known, right? What are the chances he didn’t know you were coming to North Island to take more pictures? There must have been some briefing or notice informing the aviators why you're here. After all, you’re here to photograph the Dagger Squadron. Then why was his face so blank when he saw you earlier? Thinking about him is driving you crazy, but you're not sure you can stop. All you want is to know whether he could ever feel as strongly for you as you do for him.

When your liaison walks up ten minutes later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see you have not one liaison, but two. Neither of your Navy appointed liaisons is Jake, something which you should have expected, but you were still hoping for regardless. Lieutenant Commanders Trace and Floyd are smiling from ear-to-ear as they greet your team by name. Lea and Katie seem especially enthused at seeing the soft-spoken bespectacled WSO again. Lieutenant Commander Trace is her same unflappable, cool, collected self. Her presence and dry sense of humor has you in stitches as you and your team follow behind her like a herd of ducklings. There are familiar faces around what seems like every corner of the base. But none of the faces are the face you still want to see so desperately.

Jake Seresin shows up again as you’re oooh-ing and ahh-ing over the big hanger, burnished yellow, orange, red and pink in the light of the sun. You’ve got your camera up to your face, lips pursed in concentration, eyes squinting as you peer myopically through the viewfinder. It's his voice you hear first. Just hearing it, with the same rough timber, makes you remember what he told you, before you fell into his arms and headfirst into this situation with Jake Seresin.

God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum.

It’s not a good sign, is it? How you’re unable to even look at his face without giving yourself away. The evidence of your feelings must be on your face, which feels uncomfortably hot. The heat is completely unrelated to San Diego's sky-high temperature and you shy away from eye-contact when you pivot and face the rest of your team, and the trio of Lieutenant Commanders. The sight of him hits you in your solar plexus, robbing your breath and leaving your palms uncomfortably clammy.

“Hi.”

It’s a quiet greeting, your voice swallowed by the sight of him. It feels like your tongue is two times bigger than it should be in your mouth, unwieldy as you force it to move like you want it to. He doesn’t hear you, or even acknowledge you standing there waiting for him to notice you. Standing there, you finally realize how big a gulf there is between you and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

It's a sharp contrast. He's standing there in his khaki uniform crisp and new, blond hair dark at his temples from the shower he must have taken. In contrast, your shirt is covered in wrinkles, your hair is frizzy with flyaways escaping your braid and your worn jeans are butter soft but have definitely seen better days. He ignores you for the rest of the afternoon. It hurts, of course it does, when he doesn’t notice you in the same way you notice him. But you have a job to do. You can’t - you won’t - jeopardize your career for a man, not even a man as beautiful as he is.

The now-trio of Lieutenant Commanders shows you the Officer’s ready room, where you'll be setting up for the interviews. Each member of your team is also given a badge on a lanyard allowing you limited access to certain areas of base. Soon enough, you're left to survey the ready room and prepare your team for the days ahead.

“I know it's been a long day already for you all.” Your smile is a little wry as you continue, “It's been a long day for me too. All I want is to unwind and get out of these heels!”

You let the scattered chuckles from your team peter out before continuing.

“Before I can do so, we need to sync up on what we're going to be focusing on over the next few days.”

“First and foremost on our list? Getting pictures of the Daggers while they are being interviewed. The interviewer is an old friend of Admiral Kazansky's and will be spotlighting each of the Daggers. As a part of the interview, we will be expected to get photos of each member of the squadron in their flight suits, their khaki uniforms and their dress uniforms.”

You raise your hands up to stall any questions. “I'm aware this isn't exactly the type of photo shoot we're used to. Katie, you’ll be on hand to help with their make-up during the interview. We're keeping it light and subtle. For the interview photos, we want the aviator's uniforms and medals to shine.”

“Seb and Kris - the two of you will be measuring the light levels in this room during various times of day and setting up artificial studio lights as necessary. I'll also need you both to check on the lighting situation in the big hangar we were in with the desks and the United States flag on the wall.”

“Adam and Lea, it may not sound like it yet, but I will need you both on your A-games. By special request of Admiral Mitchell, we've been asked to stage a beach bonfire. He wants this interview to echo the beginnings of this squadron. They became a team on the beach and now they are a family. I'm thinking we need cozy textiles and bright winter-toned colors. I'll leave the color palette to you both. All I ask is we have a cohesive palette for the squadron as a whole. As always, measurements for the aviators are included in this dossier. One of the minivans is yours. Our office in San Diego knows to expect you both.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Adam and Lea make a beeline for the doors as soon as you’re done with them. You’ve worked with them both long enough to know how they operate. They’ll be downtown and looking through the clothing on display before you can blink.

“Ames, while I run point with the admirals, you'll be sourcing the beachfront we can use for the bonfire. I'm not sure who you'll need permission from, but there might be a bar owner who can give us permission.”

Before long, it feels like you're the only island of calm in the entirety of base. Seb and Kris wander in and out of the room, measuring the light and carting in and out lighting equipment. Even the teleconference you have with the Admirals, both of whom are in Hawaii, due to fly back in a couple of days, goes smoothly.

Over the next few days, you find yourself building on the rapport you created with 6 of the aviators in the Dagger squad in the following days. You also meet the other half of the Dagger Squad. But at the same time you are building a relationship with the other Daggers, it feels like you're losing the relationship you once had with Jake.

The only time you see him during the four days of interviews and pictures is when he is being interviewed. Even then, he spends more time chatting with Amy and Katie than you. Even when you address him directly, he's silent, content to play puppet to your puppet master and then disappearing to an area off base you don't have access to. It hurts, and you’re starting to get weird looks from the other Daggers. They’re all too polite, or too cognizant of their positions in the Navy to ask you any prying questions. At least, until the bonfire.

It hadn’t been difficult to organize at all, in the end. All Amy needed to do was speak to the proprietress of The Hard Deck, a little bar a few miles off base. Penny had been more than happy to hand over the usage of the beach outside her bar for the night. The combination of good food, even better alcohol, and of course, no interviews relaxed the Daggers enough for you to get the candid shots the magazine was looking for. Halos of light spark across your screen with each snap you take - lens flares sparking to life, again and again.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Jake?”

The question makes you jump and nearly chuck your lens cap into the bonfire. You fumble awkwardly as you try to collect your composure.

“Lieutenant Commander Trace. What can I do for you?”

Your voice is a little shaky as you wheel around and face her.

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” She’s smiling at your discomfort, something wicked curling her lips. “And anyways, didn’t I tell you to call me Natasha three months ago?”

You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”

“Forget about me. Why aren’t you talking to Jake?”

You should have known she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Three months ago, you could barely keep your eyes off of him and the same was true of him. He went out of his way to chat you up every chance he got. And now? Something happened between the two of you after we all left the hangar, and now neither of you is talking. You were fine when you showed us the pictures the next day. But now?”

You shrug, lifting your camera up to snap another couple of pictures of the squadron having fun.

“Oh my god. I can’t with the two of you. Either you walk over there and talk to him, or I’m going to get him to talk to you!”

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

You try grabbing for her, but before you can, she’s already gone. His eyes cut over to yours the more she speaks, and you’re not sure you like the way he’s glancing over at you. Your heart is in your throat as he skirts around the bonfire and sidles up to you.

“What are you doing here? Natasha has this crazy idea you’re heads over heels for me, but the way you’ve been acting says differently. So what are you doing here?”

His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over the crackling bonfire. His face doesn’t change its expression once the entire time he’s speaking to you, barring one tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Once again, you have to thank Adam and Lea for their work because the Lieutenant Commander looks good enough to eat in his sweater and butter-soft jeans. But you know he's not happy to see you. The disappearing act he's been pulling ever since he saw you outside the hangar four days ago is proof.

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.”

“You're taking photos for another article. I know, I know.”

His smirk deepens, eyes twinkling maddeningly as he prowls closer to you.

“But between you and me, it’s just the official excuse, isn't it?” He tugs at a strand of your hair, reeling you closer to him. “But unofficially, I bet you want more of me. Maybe you want to make yourself another home movie? See my handprint on your ass cheeks again?”

His words have heat rising to your face, never mind how your skin already feels too toasty from how you've been huddling near the bonfire all night to keep yourself warm. Form-fitting dresses are not beachwear, especially not in late November. But you’re dressing to impress, wearing sharp blazers and business frocks. Add to the dress the camera and purse you’ve got over your shoulder, and you’re definitely not equipped for the beach.

“How do you know what I want?”

Your voice is thready and light, and your head spins the closer he gets to you. It's weird. You've been aching to have him this close to you all week, but now, when he is actually close to you again, you feel like it's too much, like he's too much. Every night in your hotel room, you've been coaching yourself to ignore him. You’ve had to in order to compartmentalize and be professional while on base. Yet, after only a few minutes in his presence, all your defenses are shredded like tissue paper.

“Because you're looking at me like this.”

Wafts of fragrant wood smoke drift by you and him as you stand mere inches away from each other. You can’t refute his statement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. You've never been able to mask your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve and your feelings in the pursed set of your mouth and the raise of your eyebrows. But you’re still not sure what you can say. If he’d propositioned you with the same vulnerable look in his eyes the first day you were in North Island, when he first saw you again, you would have folded like a cheap lawn chair. Then, you probably would have been more than content to pass on your expensive hotel room and make his lonely base apartment a little warmer. But he didn’t, and you’re not sure you can take the risk anymore.

Jake’s shoulders hunch, sinking into the impossibly soft cashmere of the sweater at your lack of response.

“I…” His smirk flattens, something like his Hangman mask taking its place. His shoulders never drop past his ears the longer you stand there with him at arm’s reach and pretend like you’re having a blast at this beach photoshoot turned bonfire party.

“I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

His sigh is gusty and almost too loud. “I was waiting for you to say something, because I’ve been dying to see you again. But then you ran away when you were taking pictures of the Top Gun class. Afterward, I - I didn’t know how to say I missed you, which is weird, I know. We only knew each other for a singular night.”

If your jaw isn’t on the floor already, you know it will be soon. Already, you’ve been getting too many questioning glances from your team and the Dagger Squadron. Then there is Natasha’s well-meaning meddling from a few minutes ago. Even the admirals have glanced over every once in a while at you and the normally cocky Lieutenant Commander standing in near silence. It’s not a conscious thought which has you whirling around in the silky sand and snagging a hand into his sleeve. You’re not sure why you’re doing it. All you know is if you’re having this out now, you need to have it out in private where it will not be injurious to your career or his.

Thankfully, Jake doesn't fight you as you pull him towards a corner of the parking lot. Your face feels flushed, and your chest heaves with panic at the thought someone could know what you and Jake did.

“I…”

You cover his mouth with your hand, pretending the feeling of his skin on your hands doesn't burn, like you’re not completely aware of the masculine heat emanating from his skin. For several long moments, you stand in the shadows between two pick-up trucks in the parking lot. Each of your muscles is tense, waiting for someone to realize you've disappeared with Jake Seresin, of all people. You don’t want to think about the possibilities they were assuming. The prickling, uneasy sensation doesn't pass with the moments but does fade a little.

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

“I thought it was better to have this conversation where we were less likely to be overheard, is all.”

Your voice is prim, and your nose is tipped upward. It's obvious Jake doesn't feel the same way you do about this conversation, if he’s asking you questions like this.

“C'mon, sugar. If you wanted to let me down, you could have just said it by the bonfire. I promise I won't harass you.” His brow is furrowed as he thinks through all the implications of your statement. “Then or now.”

“I…” You fling your hands upwards, feeling this sudden urge to rage at the stars above you. How have things gotten so twisted? In your head and between you and Jake?

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

You growl, then, because you know what you feel, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth the right way. He's patiently waiting for you to figure it out, lips pressed into a thin line, and green eyes scorching through you.

“I’m not rejecting you, Jake. When I came to North Island Naval Base and saw you standing in front of the lectern, I wanted you to smile when you saw me. I wanted some indication you felt the same way I did. I also wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn’t have helped then.”

You're smiling again, just a slight curve to your lips, a smile Jake is mirroring.

“Then you pretended I didn't exist. You pretended I was just someone you worked with before. Not someone who you were intimate with. Not someone whose life you changed with your stupid smile and your piercing eyes and your big, gentle hands. I…”

To your embarrassment, you're sniffling and fighting back tears. “I didn't know why, or how to deal with it, so I just pushed back all my feelings. I pretended the same thing you did, and tried to ignore how much it hurt.”

“Fuck.” The quiet expletive echoes around you. “I messed this up, didn't I?”

He's pacing now, back and forth in front of you, shoes sliding through the gravel as he marches. He's ruffling his hair, face scrunched up in anguish at your words.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've watched our video so many times, I know my favorite parts. Fuck, sweetheart, I even took the picture of your ass with my handprints on it with me when we were deployed a month ago. I was nearly given so many demerits because of how hot that picture is.”

Your heart seems like it’s going to burst out of your chest, beating as hard as it is.

“So why didn’t you call?” The same plaintive, sad tone is in your voice again.

“What could I have said?” He’s finally stopped pacing back and forth at least. He flings his hands out from his hips “Sweetheart, I want you, I need you. I wish I could fly to New York right now to taste you again?”

You have to snicker at the sarcastic, sardonic note in his voice.

“It’s a little melodramatic, but I would have taken it.”

Just as quickly as you snicker, the laugh peters away into a gentle sigh. “All you had to do was tell me you missed me, Jake. All I wanted was for you to tell me you wanted to see me again.”

“Would it have mattered if I did?”

He’s stepped closer again, close enough you can feel the heat of his skin against yours. One of his big hands cradles your jaw as he looms over you.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” There’s a smirk on his face as he ghosts his lips over yours.

“Why would my answer matter then?” You’re not sure where the sass is coming from, but it’s making Jake smirk even more. “Knowing the decision you made?”

Thankfully, you don’t have to think of a response with a brain wholly occupied by the man drawing you into his arms. You melt into the kiss like it's something visceral you've been missing. His hair still feels the same against the pads of your fingers, golden silk, as you wrap your arms around his neck. He still tastes like you remember, too, cinnamon and smoky spice intermingling on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Your heart sings when he gently positions your camera so it isn’t crushed between the two of you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing after his mouth like you're addicted to it. He still kisses like he flies, you note dimly, thoughts far away. The car at your back is cool, the metal searing into your skin as the sun has long since set. But the cold temperature of the car has nothing on the man crowding you up against it. His eyes are lidded, gaze hot as he takes in the sight of you. The dual temperatures are enough to make you shudder.

“Look at you, darling.” His hands are just as hot as his gaze as he trails his hands down your sides. “A single kiss, and you’re aching for me.”

You can’t deny the effects this man has on you. In truth, the time for denial would have been some time before you made the movie at the hangar. You’re so far down this path there isn’t a way to turn back.

“You want me just as much.”

Your voice is quieter than the rush of the waves, yet loud enough you can see the impact as they hit his ears. He’s still just as fit as he was three months ago, all hard, hot muscle as he presses up against you, cedar and plum wafting through the air off his skin. You can feel the jut of him against your hip as he muscles you even further against the car, spreading you out like a meal he wants to eat. He transfixes you with a glare when he pulls away, even as he smirks at your breathy moan. You watch, eyes lidded, as he opens the truck door and sets your things on the broad seat. You’re panting with need when he comes back to you, body shivering as he leans into you again. His hands find their home against the curve of your waist, fingers still nimble as they focus on tracing your curves in a way which might be driving you just a little mad. You almost wish you were wearing a blouse and skirt again like last time, because at least then you could feel his hands spread across your ribcage, searing their heat into your bones.

You’re lost in him, utterly captivated by the way his tongue tangles with yours, the way he makes you moan. Unlike the rough, claiming kisses of your first sexual encounter with Jake Seresin, these kisses are tender and sweet. They’re searching and tasting, like he’s trying to learn what makes you tick and what makes you moan. In truth, it feels like he’s trying to take you apart only to put you together again. This time, you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same, forever changed by the man in your arms.

“Fuck…” The word is an exhale pressed to your pulse-point, sticky, sweet, and blindingly hot. “Baby, let me take you somewhere other than this dusty, dirty parking lot. I think I really need to see you spread out on my bed this time.”

“Yes, please.” The words leave you in a strung out moan as you tug him closer, fisting your hands in his hair and sweater as you see fit. You’re past caring so long as he’s pressed so perfectly against you.

When he finally steps back from you, you’re gratified to see he looks just as rumpled and debauched as you feel. For a few moments, you stand there, drinking him in, hands aching to draw him close again, to touch him again. He takes your hand, entwining his fingers and yours. His hand dwarfs yours, skin slightly rough as his hand cradles yours. You let him lead you to the truck and help you in, because a part of you isn’t sure you’re going to be able to let him go even when you have to.

It’s silent, but for the sounds of the road as he starts his pickup, one hand never leaving its spot on your thigh. Your hands find the camera again, snapping with abandon the vista blurring past the windows and the man driving you. The streetlights halo through the lens view, speckling the pictures with circles of golden-butter light. It seems like time slips past in a slow trickle. You’re still looking through the camera when the engine cuts off, the sounds of the night trickling slowly back into your ears.

Jake’s eyes sear through you when you carefully gather your camera and bag up, legs shaky from that look alone as you step onto the pavement. His hand finds yours again, as you follow his broad back up a flight of stairs and through an unassuming white paneled front door. You’re surrounded by the cedar and plum of his cologne as you step in, the scent lightly drifting through the air. Jake crowds you against the door as soon as it closes, hands divesting you of your things even as his mouth slants over yours again. The heat sparking between you ignites again, a flame bursting to life in your chest, fed by the soft moans leaving his lips as you kiss him with wild abandon.

For much of the way to his bed, your eyes are closed. You trust Jake to lead you the right way, not to hurt you as you stumble and shudder your way through the apartment in his arms. His lips don’t leave yours once, moans ripping out of your mouth as he leaves you breathless. He’s far from quiet too, softly grunting when you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping open mouthed into yours as you rub at his bulge. Arousal bubbles in your veins, crashing over and through you. You squeal when he pushes you onto his bed, the mattress so firm it's almost hard as you bounce against it. Your hands shake as you fight with your clothes. Adrenalin makes you clumsy as you nudge your shoes off and fight futilely with the zipper at your back. Eventually you give up, choosing to lean back on your palms. When you look up, Jake’s staring down at you, eyes trailing from the curve of your mostly exposed legs up to your chest and back down again. He’s got his lower lips between his teeth, brow furrowed as he shrugs the sweater off.

Once again, you remind yourself to thank Lea for her work, because if you thought the shirt looked good buttoned up, it looks even better as it slips off his arms. He’s still wearing his dog tags, the silver chain glinting in the moonlight through the windows as he prowls over you.

“You’re still prettier than the pictures you take, baby.”

You feel like you are barely breathing as Jake licks into your mouth. The heat of his body grounds you, the points of contact just enough to tell you this is real.

“Breathe, beautiful.” His hands draw you up until you’re kneeling on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as you peer up into his eyes. Your resulting exhale is shaky as you drag in breaths with just enough oxygen to keep your head from spinning.

“Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, huh?”

“Jake.” His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer. His hands are practiced, sure as they drag the zipper down from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine. The fabric of your dress gapes forward until it’s around your waist.

Jake's eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as he takes in the simple black bra you're wearing, hands tender and hot as they drag over your bare skin, mouth wet and sharp as he drags his teeth across your collar bones.

“Mmm, baby.” His moan has you gasping, your body listing into his as he purrs the words into your skin. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

When he lets go of you, your nipples are firm peaks in the cool air. When he removed your bra, you're not sure. All you know is you want him, desperately, urgently. Your panties feel like too much material as they cling to you, the gusset damp. Your hands are clumsy as you wrench the dress off, shaking as you peel your panties away from your skin, you flush as Jake's chuckles echo in your ears.

Divested of your clothes, you're faced with one of the prettiest sights of your life. Because, Jake’s standing there, with his belt unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. His cock bulges out through the v-shaped opening, and your mouth waters as you look him over.

“God, Jake, please.” Your voice is a whine as you reach for him, fingers resting against his taut abdomen, back arched as you wait on all fours.

“I’ve got you baby.”

His promises drip over your bare skin like hot and gentle summer rain. Your eyes close as he cups your jaw, the rustle of fabric foretelling his bare skin joining yours on the bed. You let him position you where he wants, drugged by the sensations of his big hands. You steal the opportunity to kiss him again, palms splayed over his pecs, and the cool chain of his dog tags brushing against your fingers. Falling into him is too easy. It’s just a series of kisses, a sweet tangle of tongues as you let him cradle you in his arms. Sparks of need, of want traverse your moon-stained skin, hips canting against his thigh in need.

“How long has it been since you’ve cum, sweetheart?”

There’s amusement in his tone as you wrap your arms around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest as you nudge his nose with your own.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout.

“And how did you cum?”

He rolls you over, ghosting a kiss over your lips as he peers down at you. “Was it some guy you brought home? Who didn’t know how to make these pretty moans spill out of your mouth? Did he make you think of me the whole time?”

When you moan, it’s because he’s pressing into you, the stretch of him making your toes curl.

“N-no.” You screw your eyes up, trying to string the words together. “It was just me. With a vibrator, watching our video.”

“Fuck, there’s my good girl. Waiting for your Lieutenant Commander to make you scream, right?”

You’re so far beyond words all you can do is tug him down, fisting your hand in his hair until you can kiss him again. He’s just as eager to pull you in, hitching your legs up until they’re propped over his arms, keeping you spread open as he pistons his hips until you see stars.

“Please, please, please.”

You’re babbling, your orgasm crashing over you with each sharp thrust. Your moans intertwine with Jake’s guttural grunts as his hips stutter at their steady pace. It feels like you’ve been set on fire when you cum, pulsing waves of heat washing over your body. Jake’s shivering as he slumps over you, blanketing your body with his. His hair is sweat-damp as you card your fingers through the fluffy strands.

“Missed you, Jay.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” The words are languid and soft, syrupy and sweet.

It feels like you could fall in love with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin as he gathers you in his arms for what must be the hundredth time tonight to clean you up. Every glimpse of the man you see when he's not putting on his Hangman mask intrigues you more. There's a gentleness to him when he's like this, a secret softness shining past his imposing exterior. You want to know more. You have to know more.

The realization of how little time you have left with Jake eviscerates you. Only two days left. Two days to love this man as much as you can. You can’t tell him how close you are to falling for him. Looking at his apartment, you have a feeling it would just scare him away. His apartment is almost austere, the off-white walls blending into the pale cream carpet on the floor. Everything is bare, with no pictures on the walls and no personality. It’s a trend throughout the entire space, everywhere but the bedroom. There's a cheery quilt at the foot of the bed. It's the only vibrant color in the apartment, the one thing which screams home.

“It's pathetic, isn't it?” You jump at his words, gripping at the footboard of the bed in an effort to keep from falling.

“It's not pathetic, Jay. Just…” You turn, clad in the soft tee he'd pulled over you after the shower. “Just different than I expected.”

“I know what it looks like, sweetheart.” The same sad soft tone is in his voice again. “It looks like I don’t have any roots. Like I’m scared to let people in.”

He slides his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, his golden hair dripping as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Maybe that is the truth.”

Your heart breaks a little at the soft surety in his voice, even as he does his best impression of a koala around you.

“Because like it or not, I’m going to leave one day. I’ll have to leave one day. Another deployment. Another mission. And chances are, I may not be coming home.”

You clutch at him tighter, because right now, you’re not sure you can think about him not being in San Diego the next time you’re here.

“I was okay with my reality.”

When you wrestle your way out of his grip, you’re maybe a little too rough, evidenced by the grimace on his face as you walk away. You’re not sure where you’re going but away has to be enough. You’re not sure you can face him after he’s said something like this. After all, here you are, ready to risk it all in a sultry cross-country romance, ready to give your heart to him, possibly years of your life to him. Then there he is, admitting so callously he might not be coming home one day.

You’re staring unseeingly at the stars when he slides his arms around you again.

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?”

You lean back into him, because he feels perfect against you still.

“Shutterbug is new.” You’re trying to change the subject, because if he’s insistent about it, you’re going to explode.

“Nuh-uh.” His hands turn you around until you’re looking at him again. “Tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl.”

“You’re so callous about how you’re ready to never come home again! Why would you say that to me, Jake? I’m ready to risk everything for you. A cross-country relationship, half here, half in New York or really, wherever it’s convenient for us to meet. If you’re not willing to do the same, then what is the point of what we just did?”

You’re choking back a sob as you stand in front of him. Your eyes are screwed closed, hands wringing the hem of the t-shirt clothing you.

“Why does it matter that you missed me, and that I missed you?”

“It matters, because, sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

Your arms wrap around his waist easily as he tugs you closer.

“I was going to say, I was okay never coming home before you. You’ve been running around in my head, the center of every thought, the subject of my every dream for three months. You kept me going when we were deployed, too. All I wanted was to come home safe so I could fly out to New York and see you again.”

“Now, at least I know I’ll be welcome when I come by.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, you will be.”

You're still smiling as you walk into the Officer's Ready Room at North Island the next morning. You've got the same swagger you had in your step the first time you and Jake crashed together. Only this time, you have his phone number on your phone and the promise of a romantic dinner for two tonight. You'd be lying if you said you weren't still worried about the long distance relationship, spending half your life in New York and half here. But more than anything, you're ready for the challenge and excited to. At least you know who you're going home to - and, he knows who he is coming home to, as well.

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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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dirtbra1n · 24 days ago

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if we could all feign surprise

I have a few things to say. first of which Getting kagi confession and then the very next thing you see is That bastard hanzawa masato. harusono shou reminding you that the story isn’t Not about him too. I’m not making that up I promise I know I’m biased Just trust me. I would never lie to you. anyway Second the hira+kagi room being his last stop on his photo-taking tour implies a couple things. either he started with his room (the room he shares with yashiro) or he’s not taking any photos of his own room (the room he shares with yashiro). second option seems more likely to me (privacy) (probably one of the only ways he’d “abuse” his power as dorm head) (Ha ha ha ha.) Anyway finishing with the hira-kagi dorm is Factually probably just because they’re his neighbors. but they’re also his favorites :) I know this in my heart. also hirano borrowing hair clips from kagi Kagi having hair clips :) supercute also also hirano’s objections being roundly ignored by both masato and kagi who are partners in crime on this Supercute :)

kagi relentless bunny ears. his being So lame. masato and kagi continuing to talk over hirano’s head. warmth :)

leaving the camera to them to have fun (something he would not and did not trust with or afford to other people living in the dorm). Gonna throw up another pair of bunny ears on me? I won’t! (he would) Promise! (lying) hirano taking a candid of kagi the second his back is turned. Love?

It’s best to catch the subject in their natural state. (shutterbug thing to say) (takes one to know one) (they’re not even blurry). kagi cute pouting kagi immediate retaliation completely predictable and entirely undetected by hirano who turned around without a thread of suspicion. Love? Love?

kagi who is so bad at this. Love? Love? Love?

HIS FAVORITES :)

F.N.D.C. (Friendly Neighbor Damage Control) count 3. kagi got most of the photos though :) also

things to takeaway including The dorm head is really fond of his neighbors :) Likes messing with his dear friend hirano with kagi even more than he likes messing with kagi :) sees and knows and recognizes kagi’s feelings before he or niibashi properly understood them and is looking after him just as much as (frankly more than) he looks after anybody and especially hirano. harusono shou loves me but more importantly She loves hanzawa masato. :)

#db hrkg #Thise goddamn plushies killed me deader than dead in december when i finally noticed them #and i couldn’t even do anything about it. because i was keeping mum for the sake of xchange sasamasa time. just killed in silence #I HATE HIS HORRIBLE BEWITCHING MOE. I NEED HIM SENT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE #anyway You’ll recall that even hirano is under the impression that masato’s weird (negative) about gay people. which just adds a lot of #dimensionality. just A lot to think about. a looot to think about #tangentially wall-e’s a really good movie you guys. hashtag hotel

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usafphantom2 · 7 months ago

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#TomcatTuesday

#TomcatTails

First Night Launch Off the Boat

It was 1993 and I’d just graduated from the VF-124 Gunfighters at NAS Miramar. VF-124 was the RAG or Readiness Air Group back then, more recently called the FRS or Fleet Replacement Squadron now and was the F-14 training squadron. It had been an eventful January as I’d been assigned to the VF-24 Renegades, part of Carrier Air Group (CAG) 9 onboard USS NIMITZ (CVN-68) but still had some RAG Tactics hops to finish. Flying with VF-124 during the day doing a few 2 versus or 4 versus unknown syllabus hops (some good stories there!) and doing Field Carrier Landing Practice (FCLP) hops at night with VF=24. We were heading out on cruise on the 1st February so we had to get worked up and ready.

After a quick Carrier Qualification in VF-24, we were off on my first Western Pacific (WESTPAC) cruise, destined for places like Hong Kong, Singapore, Dubai, and more. The picture in this post is me on this first cruise. I was never much of a shutterbug so photos of me on the job are rare! Note here I’m standing by the trusty AIM-54C Phoenix missile mounted on the belly of the Tomcat. At this stage in the F-14’s life, she was just getting into the air-to-mud mission so was very much still a primary air-to-air platform so we’d be doing most of the fighter stuff for this cruise. Standard combat load at that time was “2/2/2” which translated to 2 x AIM-9 Sidewinder 2 x AIM-7 Sparrow, and 2 x AIM-54 Phoenix (I think I got that order right….been a while!)

As we start our trek west, cruise begins. My first. I’d gotten carrier landings in the T-2 Buckeye and A-4 Skyhawk (both day only), had done CQ in VF-124 in the Tomcat (day and night), and had just recently re-qualified in VF-24 (day and night) so it’s not like I was TOTALLY unfamiliar with night landings. But mentally you have to factor in that this is the first REAL night flight from the boat on cruise. Up until that time, every CQ evolution was a training environment. All the movement, people, ships, deck crews, fuel, etc. were all focused on YOU to get you up to speed. Now was different. We were headed west. We’re not near a divert field. This was real. I liken it to the difference between banging golf balls with your driver at the range and teeing off on the #1 at Augusta during the Masters. Same movement, same club, same ball…..but VERY different.

Also, this was a bit ago and the focus on the Nuggets (new guys) was intense. They flew the sh*t out of you off the boat. Every day, every night. The worse the conditions, the more Nuggets they’d launch. Trial by fire, m’fer. Every flight was an opportunity to learn something, and since Nuggets didn’t know sh*t, launch ‘em!! It might still be like that......dunno.

My first scheduled cruise night flight is with the Maintenance Officer (an O4, Lieutenant Commander, senior RIO) “Butch”. I can’t recall the mission but likely just a night AIC (Air Intercept Control) flight against another fighter, with probably 12 or 14 other airplanes scheduled to launch. The brief went pretty well, but I’m just focused on getting back the ship without (a) shining my ass or (b) killing myself and Butch. True Fighter Guys will know that of those two, (a) is WAY worse than (b). “I’d rather die than look bad” was an oft repeated phrase. I did note during the brief that the metro guys (meteorological dudes or “weather guessers”) said that the weather would include “some clouds and rain”. Of note, the ship can actually avoid weather, we just didn’t that night. Thanks, ship.

So Butch and I suit up and head for the roof. Our ready room on NIMITZ was “Ready 8” all the way at the back of the ship so that’s where the jets were always parked (Tomcats on the back of the boat because there’s more room). He pops the hatch and HOLY SH*T that wind is blowing hard……and DAMN that’s a lot of rain…..blowing sideways. Gulp.

We crouch down against the wind and rain, climb up to the flight deck, spot our plane and start the preflight. Once done (and soaking wet) we both climb in and I notice that in addition to the high winds and driving sideways rain, we have a LOT of movement of the flight deck through the heavy seas. Great. Dark, rainy, windy, and pitching deck. Sidebar – during a carrier landing, if everything is perfectly steady and you’re perfectly on glide slop and on speed, your tailhook misses the back of the ship by 11 feet 7 inches. Well, tonight the deck is moving probably 10-15 deck up and down. You do the math.

So the canopy finally closes out the wind and rain and we get power on the jet. Butch is in full “encouragement mode” at this point because he knows I’m his ride home (back where the food is, as we say) and he’s GOT to keep me pumped up. “THIS IS F**KING AWESOME MAN!!!”, he shouts. I ask him if he really thinks we’re going and he’s like “Oh yean, man! This is gonna be GREAT!!”

I’m skeptical. There’s no WAY they’d launch us in these conditions.

THESE are the thoughts that we stupid Nuggets think. Silly Nugget.

Jet is started, final checks are done, and we signal to the yellow shirt (aircraft directors wear yellow shirts, more colors for different jobs….purple for fuel, brown for Plane Captain, white for medical/final checker, etc.). I’m still skeptical they’re going to send us. “Butch, you really think they’re gonna send us?”

“Oh yeah, man! We goin’ FLYIN! You can’t BUY training like this!”. That’s because know one is dumb enough to try and sell it, to be honest.

I look over and sure enough the director gives the signal to remove chocks and chains and signals for us to pull forward. Gulp again. While the rain is still hitting the cockpit from the side and the deck is doing its little dance, we make our way to Cat 3 (3 of 4 catapults on the boat). The director then passes me to the director on the CAT who stands in front of the jet, guiding me into the shuttle (hunk of steel connected to the catapult system below decks that will fling us off the boat, accelerating from 0 to 150 in 1.4 seconds).

He calls for wings out, flaps down and then we're turned over to the launch officer. He calls for full power, then full afterburner. I do my control wipe out, finally convinced that yes, we’re probably doing this. Everything looks good, so I turn on the external lights (off until that point) indicating I’m ready for launch and………BOOM, off we go into the blackness.

Throttle out of afterburner, gear up, flaps up and start the climb out going into the clouds at about 500 feet. Butch is doing his RIO thing and we keep climbing through the goo (clouds). We eventually break out of the clouds at around 26,000 feet and gosh it’s a beautiful night up here. Big, shiny moon, pretty stars. Down stairs? Not so much, but really nice way up here. Butch calls back to the ship and tells them that we broke out at 26K and the boat comes back with “Roger that, launch is canceled. Turn left 180 and we’ll start vectors for recovery”.

What? Launch canceled? Butch now teaches me about the idea of “the sacrificial Tomcat”. If the weather is not so good, shoot a Tomcat off the boat to go investigate the weather. It’s dual crewed and has LOTS of gas, so what could possibly go wrong, right? F**k.

So now we gotta get home back to the boat. That’s where the food is, and that’s where your stuff is, and there’s really no place else to go. We get vectors to final while dumping gas to get down to max trap weight. The maximum landing weight for the Tomcat was 54,000 pounds and a landing is called a “trap”, hence “max trap”. Empty weight is about 45,000 pounds and you carried 20,000 pounds of gas so we had to dump quite a bit.

Vectors complete, we wind up behind the boat at about 2 miles and are on glide slope coming down the chute. Another tidbit; everyone on the boat knows they launched the sacrificial Tomcat AND they know who’s in the jet….a Nugget. So all eyes are going to be on the ships TV that broadcasts every landing from a camera that’s recessed into the flight deck and looks right up the glide slope at the approaching aircraft. To say The Nugget Night Trap in Shitty Weather Show is popular is an understatement. It’s Must See TV.

Great.

Things actually went pretty well. I was always a good instrument flyer (looking only at the cockpit instruments), and for landing you lined up crosshairs on your screen so that they formed a perfect plus sign +. Drift left and the vertical needle moves to the right to tell you to come back right. Go low, and the horizontal needle goes up to tell you to add power to get back up on glide slope. Pretty straight forward, right?

By about a mile out, Butch is doing the soothing voice “loooookin good, bud……little high……there ya go…..loooooking gooood.” For me, that’s actually kind of helpful and it validates that I’m not completely out to lunch. The problem is that eventually you have to come off instruments and actually look at the ship to land. At about mile out and 500 feet, the ship is finally visible. At three-quarter mile, Butch calls the ball: “Two-oh-two, Tomcat ball, five-oh”, which translates to “I’m Jet # 202, we’re in a Tomcat and can see the visual landing aide/ball, and we have 5,000 pounds of gas). This is when I start my “transition scan” where you gently look up to make sure the boat is actually there, come back in one more time to verify the needles are centered and everything looks good, then come back out for the last time to start flying glide slope (“meatball”), centerline (“lineup”) speed (“angle of attack”) all the way to touch down.

This is NOT a picture I’d seen much and I had DEFINITELY never landed on a pitching deck.

“Gee, what do you know, you can actually SEE the deck moving waaaay down and then waaaay back up and HOLY SH*T WHY AM I LOOKING AT THE DECK GET BACK TO MEATBALL, LINEUP, ANGLE OF ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”.

If you look at the deck while landing (“deck spotters”), there’s a better than average chance you’ll hit the back of the ship because it’s moving away from you at 20mph. That's not good.

Some lineup corrections, a couple “little power” calls from the LSO (Landing Signal Officer) and a couple more “looooking goods” from Butch and we cross the ramp (didn’t hit it, thank you), land in the wires and trap, going to full power in the wires in case we’d missed them all (“boltered”). Whew!!! Wings back, flaps up, and follow the director to parking. We shut down and Butch is again back to “That was AWESOME, MAN!!” He was likely just happy to be alive. And so was I after my first night launch on cruise.

And for the Naval Aviators out there, Paddles gave me a Fair Deuce.

DISCLAIMER - any inaccuracies in technical details are due soley to poor memory and being old.

@RSE_VB via X

#f 14 tomcat #grumman aviation #fighter interceptor #aircraft #navy #aviation #us navy #carrier aviation #anytime baby!#cold war aircraft

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