#fern writing

[fernlessbastard]

GUYS CHAPTER 2 OF IT'S US THAT MADE THIS MESS IS OUT, GO GO GO (oh but it's nsfw just fyi - i mean the whole work is but ch1 wasn't really so just heads up that this one is)

I gotta make a nice watercolour based on this, but I haven't had the time just yet so it'll come later

[fern-writes-whump]

Whumpee pleads for mercy, begs to be spared. "I want to go home!" they cry and whimper.

Whumper shakes their head.

"You don't get to want things."

[fern-writes-stories]

Busy

MINORS DNI !!!!!!!!!

♡ [a/n]; HE IS SO!!!!!!!!!! but also I’ve never written smut before so be kind to me pls 😔💔 idk i need him so bad i’ve been pent up for like a whole week atp

✧ Pairing: Miguel O’hara x female reader

✧ Word Count: 1,806

✧ Summary: Miguel pleasures you and gives mad oral. Porn w/o plot basically

✧ Warnings/Tags: 18+/NSFW under the cut, second POV, google translate spanish, pet names (cariño, mi amor, mi ciero, mami, niña buena), orgasm (f), edging, marking, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, rough sex (hair pulling, biting w/ slight blood kink), size kink if you squint, foreplay, fingering, lmk if I missed any!!!!

✑ You can find all my stories here!

✑ My request guide is here (and you can place a request here)!

✑ Like what I write? Consider leaving me a tip here!

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“Miguel, I’m busy,” you tutted, working away at your computer desk. Miguel had arrived home from work just under an hour ago.

“Pero tengo tanta hambre de ti, mi amor......” He stood behind you, arms wrapped around your shoulders while he traced patterns onto your collarbone.  (But I feel so hungry for you, my love...)

“I know, but I really need to get this done,” you sighed, moving his arms off of you. “Maybe later?”

Silence followed before suddenly you felt kisses on your neck, making your heart flutter for a moment. You knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“Miguel,” you scolded rather halfheartedly, the words coming out barely above a whisper while you were trying to convince yourself that this report took priority.

His hands began to skim your body and you felt the graze of his fangs against the nape of your neck, feeling your breath hitch in your throat. He began to trace circles with his thumb on your inner thigh with one hand while the other drifted up your shirt, slowly, at an agonisingly deliberate pace for the situation. 

Miguel began to lick and suck softly at you neck and you involuntarily cocked your head to allow him more access. You felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin.

“Can’t you just leave your work for five minutes? Ten, max?” He muttered into your ear, the sensation of his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

“I-I really shouldn’t...” You reasoned, though it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than Miguel. He sighed against your neck and removed his hands from your body.

Before you could say anything else your desk chair was spun around suddenly, Miguel planting his hands firmly on either armrest as he caged you in. 

“Then you don’t have to leave,” he said sweetly.

He leaned down to kiss your lips and you met him in the middle, feeling his teeth brush your lips as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you. Then Miguel’s hands began to trail your body again, one ending up in your hair and the other massaging a tit through your clothes.

You unintentionally moaned at the action and could feel Miguel smiling into your lips before breaking away suddenly. You lurched forward at the absence of his sensual kissing and groping and opened your eyes in time to watch him move to a kneel in front of you.

He gently pried apart your knees and stared up at you through your legs, moving to place a kiss on your inner thigh before resting his head against it.

You could feel it, your pussy throbbing and aching at the sight of him below you- you wanted him so bad, hanging on the edge of his every movement with impatience and lust. He began to rub your other thigh.

“I want to pleasure you so bad, mami...” he closed his eyes. “Make you feel so good... cogerte hasta que te derrumbes...” (fuck you until you collapse)

Miguel opened his eyes again and you glimpsed his gorgeous brown irises through his eyelashes. “Show you how much I love you, mi cielo...”

Your throat had gone dry and you couldn’t find you words, dizzy from arousal and feeling how wet you were, afraid you had soaked through your pants already.

The hand Miguel had previously been using to rub your thigh slowly made its way upwards, caressing your curves until he hooked a finger under the waistband of your pants.

“Will you let me pleasure you, mami? Just like you deserve, mi niña buena?” (my good girl)

“Yes,” you breathed out, pressing your mouth shut tightly to stop your lip from quivering with anticipation. Immediately Miguel made quick work of removing your pants and discarding them, exposing your soaked underwear. 

He chuckled, a deep sound that turned you on even more. “All dolled up for me already, cariño?” He teased.

You moved to close your legs out of embarrassment but Miguel reinstated his grip on your thighs; harsher this time, holding you in place so he could go to town. “What’s wrong, mami?” He asked, leaning closer to your pussy. “Having second thoughts?”

You suddenly felt his tongue on your clothed cunt, licking a long, slow arc from your vagina to your clit. You inhaled sharply and moaned, throwing your head back- you needed more. 

“N-No,” you gasped out.

“No, what?” Miguel said slowly, sternly. His tongue began to paw at your throbbing clit.

“No, papi,” you moaned. It took everything in you to not just slam his head into your vulva.

“That’s more like it,” he growled, flashing his fangs at you as he moved to remove your underwear. The moment the cool air of the room hit your unclothed cunt you shivered, but the cold was quickly replaced when Miguel moved forward again to lick lines across you pussy.

He continued back and forth, once again at an agonisingly slow pace. Your hips bucked suddenly at the need for more stimulation and you felt the vibrations of Miguel growling into your cunt.

“Miggy, please- m-more,” you pleaded, crawling a hand up your shirt so you could grab your tits.

He began to use his tongue to circle your clit, at a much steadier pace this time, and reached one of his hands up to grab your hip. You began to feel a fire light deep in your belly, in your core- you were so close already.

“I-I’m almost...” you stuttered out, too engulfed in the feeling to finish your sentence as you began to feebly grind into his tongue.

Miguel began to work faster, now at a furious pace that only stoked the deep fire within you further. Right before it released all at once you grabbed Miguel’s hair in your free hand and pushed his face further into you cunt as it began to quiver with ecstasy. 

You let out a sound mixed between a scream and a moan while you rode the high, Miguel still working away at your clit until you became so sensitive it hurt.

“M-Miguel!” you cried out, having to pull his head away when he didn’t stop. 

And there he knelt below you, hair an impossible mess that was tangled in your fingers and the lower half of his face drenched in your climax. 

“Sorry,” you blurted out, releasing his hair from your grasp and moving to close your legs again when, like before, Miguel stopped you. You stared down at him with round eyes, unable to shake your newfound arousal from his dishevelled appearance.

It was impossibly quiet as you watched him use his thumb to wipe up some of your slick from along the line of his jaw, licking it clean.

“What are you apologising for, niña buena?” Miguel’s tone was seductive and playful. “I’d drink you up all night if I could, tan deliciosa, mi ciero.” (Good girl, so delicious).

You felt your face go hot and you moved a hand to hide your eyes from him and Miguel laughed. A moment later you felt his gentle hand grab your wrist and move your arm so that he could see you again. You noticed that he had cleaned off the rest of his face- presumably with his shirt.

“Don’t go all shy on me, mami,” he teased, leaning in to kiss you deeply again. When you began to kiss him back you felt Miguel nip your bottom lip with his fangs, and you let out a squeak. He began to move along your jaw, down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and hickies until he reached your collarbone.

You felt the pin-prick of his fangs in your skin and withheld a moan as he began to lick over the small cuts. It was then you noticed one of his hands exploring the inside of your thighs again, caressing you so delicately before suddenly his thumb was on your clit.

You gasped and Miguel’s other hand found its way up your shirt once more, brushing lightly over your nipple as he continued biting and sucking along your neck.

The hand massaging your clit was moving in circular motions, toying with you as you began to throb and ache madly again. Then it stopped all of a sudden, and you were about to protest before you suddenly felt two fingers prodding at the entrance to your vagina.

You moaned into Miguel’s hair, burying your fingers in his brown locks. He took this as an invitation and gently penetrated you until he was knuckle deep in your pussy. His fingers curled, massaging your g-spot and driving you crazy. 

He began to pump his fingers in and out, making sure to hit your most sensitive spot every time as you continued to moan into him.

“You’re so tasty, cariño. Can’t get enough of you,” Miguel’s breath was hot and you could only bring yourself to respond with a whimper as he began to roll a nipple between his fingers. 

“You sound so hot, estás excitando a papi aún más, princesa.” He groaned into your neck. (You’re turning daddy on even more, princess)

At his words you began to feel your insides coiling up again, your pussy tightening around Miguel’s fingers as you neared another high.

“M-Miggy...” You moaned out through your panting, and he knew you were close. He bit into your skin again with his fangs, slightly harsher this time.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, lapping up the blood he had shed.

Your breathing quickened even more and you arched your whole body into Miguel, closing your eyes while your legs twitched with anticipation before all at once the stimulation ceased. 

You could no longer feel Miguel looming over you, his fingers withdrawn from your cunt and his other hand removed from under your shirt. You whimpered unintentionally and your hips grinded into nothing, your whole body aching at his absence and painfully winding down from your missed climax.

You opened your eyes and saw Miguel standing in front of you, staring up at him with a furrowed brow and confusion in your eyes.

“Well, I suppose you’d better get back to your work,” he said much too nonchalantly. Your stomach flipped and you could barely think clearly through the haze in your brain. He couldn’t be serious.

He licked his fingers clean of your fluids, savouring every moment, and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe later?” He teased.

“Miguel!” You cried out indignantly as he walked away from you, the sly smirk on his face making you want to punch him.

His laughter followed him out of the room and you were now painfully aware of the puddle that had gathered on your seat.

[captainfern]

May i request your majesty 🐈..

Cosy! Sfw (or if you find a way to make it NSFW then go wild) headcanon/ imagine of fem! Reader, reading to the boys every night or after a mission?? Like.. so mother ?? Bc they mostly fight and train and wrestle so, they have a lil calm, story time moment with the reader ??

Ugh I’m reading a book rn and thinking I just wanna mother these boys and read them a story!! Babies !!!

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"This Is Not A Book Club"

141 x gn!reader [platonic!]

[Imagines 1]

[SFW]

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• summary - what the request says :) • rating - sfw • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - ik the request is for fem!reader but no specific pronouns/gendered language are used in this, pet name "love" is used once tho, strong language, no smut sorry fellow whores ✋

this idea is so fucking cute i just had to write it omfg. also i love that gif soap and ghost's interactions are just too adorable *pat pat*

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You didn't mean for it to become a habit.

It began on a whim.

After a strenuous mission, you relaxed in your respective room, curled up in your bed, reading a book. The main light was off, and you relied on the soft glow of the lamp on your bedside table. It was a relatively new book— you were only a chapter or so in— when a light knock at your door made you jump.

You hadn't been expecting it. It was pretty late, too.

You were surprised when Gaz poked his head in, apologising for interrupting. He figured he could unwind in your room, since the rest of the 141 were doing their own thing, and he needed some company.

You accepted, of course— how could you not when he looked at you with those deep brown eyes?

He settled on the bed next to you, sprawling himself across it near your feet. You laughed as he sighed, face buried in your duvet. He lifted his head, peering at you quizzically.

"What are you reading?" He asked.

You held the book up. "I... honestly don't know. It's pretty good, so far though."

He hummed, intrigued, as he scooted closer to you, head now resting parallel to your thighs.

"Read to me?" He asked, long eyelashes casting shadows across his cheekbones beneath the lamplight.

You smiled. "I'm two chapters in."

"That's okay," he muttered. "Just fill me in on what's happening."

You did, explaining the last couple of chapters in as much detail as possible. You then told him what the book was about, reading the little summary on the back. By this stage, his head was now resting on your lap atop the blanket, hand cupping your slightly bent knee.

"Right, okay," he said. "Now you can read from where you were reading."

You chuckled at his enthusiasm for you to hurry up and begin. So, you obliged, reading a couple of chapters before his breathing slowed. You looked away from your book, realising that he had fallen asleep, head still resting in your lap. You smiled, gently patting his head.

He mumbled incoherently.

"Gaz, come on, you fell asleep," you giggled, nudging him. "You need to go to bed."

He yawned, forcing himself to sit up. His eyes drooped, bleary with drowse as he stumbled off of your bed.

"Fine, but I'll be back for the next chapter tomorrow." He muttered, leaving with his eyes barely open.

The next evening, at roughly the same time, Gaz found his way into your room again. This time, with Soap in tow.

"Soap?" You greeted skeptically.

"Gaz said you're reading to him. I like a good storytime, too." He smiled, sprawling himself out on the rug beside your bed. He didn't give you any room for argument as Gaz resumed his place resting against your lap.

"Oh...kay... do you want me to fill you in?" You asked as you grabbed your book from your bedside table.

Soap shook his head. "No, no, don't worry. Gaz filled me in on the way here."

You laughed. "Of course he did."

So that's how you began reading to both Gaz and Soap. That night, Soap did much the same as Gaz did previously by falling asleep— face to the ceiling, stretched out on your plush rug. His soft snores prompted your eyes away from the pages. Gaz, too, was drifting in and out of consciousness.

You closed the book gently. "Okay, you two, time for bed."

Gaz got up without much of a fuss, but he had to shake Soap to get the man to cooperate. Soap grumbled and complained the entire time Gaz hoisted him to his feet. Then, still muttering grumpily under his breath, he let Gaz lead him out of the room.

The next day really confused you.

Both Gaz and Soap turned up, and once they were comfortable in their usual positions, a soft knock echoed through your room. Soap opened the door for Price, much to your astonishment.

"You too?" You questioned as your captain took up position in your desk chair, near the foot of your bed.

He relaxed in the chair, legs spread and arms folded across his chest.

"Got nothing else to do, love." He said simply, imploring you to pick up the book with a nod of his head.

You were in slight disbelief, but nevertheless, you continued with the book. While Gaz and Soap relaxed, listening to the peaceful lull of your voice, Price asked the occasional question. You stopped patiently and replied, ignoring the frustrated groans from Soap on your floor.

"Just shut up and listen, Price."

"Watch it, MacTavish."

Not long later, you managed to finish the chapter before Soap fell asleep. You waved them all goodbye as they filed out of your room, and you forced yourself not to laugh as they did.

Now, if you were confused before, the next day threw you completely.

Once again, Gaz lay sprawled out on your bed beside you, Soap on the floor with his arms behind his head. Price returned, too, taking his place in your chair. Then, just one word into the newest chapter, the door creaked open.

Ghost slipped in, almost silently, and you couldn't help but gape at your lieutenant as he lumbered into the room, cozy black hoodie on and hands jammed into the front pocket.

"L.T, I knew you couldn't resist," Soap beamed from the floor. "You want in on the book club?"

You scoffed, smiling. "This is not a book club."

Ghost just shrugged at Soap. "Lonely outside when I can't hear you lot making a racket."

He stepped over Soap and sunk himself onto the end of your bed, leaning himself up against the wall. He stretched his legs out, brushing your and Gaz's feet, knees cracking as he settled down.

You stared at everyone, slightly dumbfounded. Then, you turned to Ghost.

"You're... here willingly?" You asked him.

"Mhm."

"You... willingly want to listen to me read my book?"

"Mhm."

You took a deep breath. "Right, okay, cool. Um, do you need—?"

"Johnny's given me a rundown." He mumbled.

Of course he had.

And that's how it started, just over two weeks ago. Every night, especially after a particularly rough mission, the boys seemed to gravitate to your bedroom. They'd curl up and listen to your soft voice as you read to them; reading them to sleep on many occasions.

Despite Ghost and Price's lack of enthusiasm compared to Soap and Gaz, you could tell they enjoyed it just as much as the younger two did. It made you smile, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside knowing you could bring these hardened military boys some peace and comfort.

"Okay, so you're telling me, the kid didn't even know he was a wizard?" Price asked, leaning forward in his chair.

You laughed. "No, he didn't. Well, now he does."

"Ridiculous." Price muttered, shaking his head.

Ghost scoffed. "It's unrealistic."

Soap rolled his eyes. "Obviously, Ghost, it's a fucking fictional book about wizards an' shite."

"No, I mean, some big cunt with a beard turned up with a fucking ugly cake and told the kid he's a wizard, and the kid just believed him?" Ghost grumbled. His attitude had definitely shifted since the first time he joined their little, as Soap called it, book club.

"Yeah, basically." You smiled.

You had just introduced them to the Harry Potter series. You weren't even halfway through the first book yet.

"Ridiculous." Ghost said, echoing Price.

"Well, what would you have done, eh?" Soap questioned, sitting up, now cross-legged on the fluffy rug.

"What, if a big cunt called Hagrid turned up on my eleventh birthday and told me I'm a wizard?" Ghost mused. "Woulda knifed him, Johnny."

"Whatever." Soap scoffed.

When they weren't arguing about the book you were reading them, the night's with the boys were really peaceful. Relaxing, too.

A balm for their tortured souls, and a salve for the wounds they had earned during battle.

Dusk would fall, and they would limp into the comfort of your bedroom, warm and smelling sweetly of you. Waves of exhaustion would pin them in place while they clung to the presence of you for stability. Some days, all four would find themselves curled up on your bed— Gaz laying next to you, head on your lap; Soap on the floor, but his head resting on the edge of your bed, a hand resting in the crook of your arm as you held the book; Ghost with his back to the wall, your legs propped up over his, his gloved hands stroking circles on your shins; Price settled next to Ghost, shoulder to shoulder, his legs beneath yours as well, a hand resting warmly around your ankle.

They listened carefully, silently, as you read to them, basking in the comforting warmth of you. Battered, bruised, and bleeding from the cuts of battle, they rested tranquilly at your side. Their ears were no longer ringing with echoes of explosions, nostrils no longer filled with the acrid stench of gunpowder and death. They could hear only you, voice silken with each word you spoke. They could smell only you, the candles that burned and permeated the air, rich and sweet and a consoling sense of familiarity.

Towards the end of a chapter, you could sense a shift in the room. Some time ago, Soap had wiggled in beside you, head in the bend of your arm and shoulder. He breathed deeply, slowly, eyes closed and hair dishevelled against the sleeve of your shirt. Gaz, too, breathed slowly as sleep had overtaken him, hand still heavy on your knee.

Ghost had slumped to the side, somehow managing to tuck his hulking frame between Gaz and the wall. Mask still on, you could see his eyes, closed and smeared with black. Price, too, had fallen asleep; still, impressively, sitting upright. His head tilted forward, hat low over his forehead, snoring softly.

You sighed to yourself, closing the book and carefully putting it back on your nightstand, mindful not to disrupt Soap curled into your side like a cat. You nestled back into your bed, snuggled up with your task force, a sight you had never thought you'd see. As you wiggled to get comfortable, Soap stirred, groaning as he looked up at you, still resting his head near your chest.

"S'all right, go back to sleep." You whispered, angling your arm so it draped securely over top of him.

He didn't reply verbally, just burrowed deeper into your side, reaching a hand around to physically tighten your arm around him. He ran his thumb over your knuckles, before he fell back asleep.

Your other hand found Gaz's head, delicately skimming his hairline, smoothing along the soft skin of his forehead and cheek. You heard him sigh contentedly, still deep asleep.

Eventually, the warmth of the room and powerful bodies around you carried you to sleep.

And it was the best sleep you ever had.

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idk if this was good or not lmao but thank you my darling anon <3 this was nice to write mwah mwah xx

[desert-fern]

The Walls Are Caving In - Jake Seresin X Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin X Fem!Reader (Known as Honey Bee/Honey)

Summary: You are sunshine incarnate, the life of the party who is so free with your affection. Jake finds himself struggling to express his desire to be like you while wrestling with his past, what happens when it all comes crashing down around him? AKA Jake is both touch-starved and in love.

Warnings: Jake has a shit dad, angst, still fluffy tho (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This one-shot is inspired a little by the song In my Blood by Shawn Mendes. That and I really wanted to explore what could be going on inside the cocky man we all know and some of us fell in love with, so please enjoy 5k words of me putting Jake under the microscope.

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Jake Seresin was a mystery to you.

The blonde man had always been standoffish around you, almost like he couldn’t stomach the thought of being near you. Yet when the other pilots came together, it was like Jake couldn’t be close enough, knocking elbows with Bob as he tried to take a sip of his drink and chuckling when the WSO had to set his drink down to give him a bewildered look. Jake would start teasing shoving matches with Rooster out on the beach, laughing as he got absolutely rocked back into the sand.

But when you were in the group? He was as far away from you as was considered polite.

The unfortunate thing was that you thrived on physical contact. You loved hugs, both giving them and receiving them. Fanboy had figured it out early on and would now run up and pull you off your feet to spin you around. It was nothing but playful, yet why did Jake always look at you strangely?

You’d given up on finding out, choosing to focus on your career as a base medic. It had been a dream of yours to be a doctor while growing up, but as you got older, you had to face the fact that it wasn’t the most financially sound decision. So you joined the Navy and found your calling as a medic. Between treating a few base personnel for coffee burns, the occasional broken toe from jamming it against a bench in the locker room, and the pilots and crew members who would pass out when the weather got too hot, you were thriving on your ability to always try and bring a smile and a listening ear to whoever came through the door needing help.

It was why you had become known as Honey Bee by the base dwellers, as you had taken to calling them. You were sweet and were genuinely interested in getting to know people, but if someone fucked around, you always had a whole swarm of people willing to makes sure they found out.

What you weren’t expecting from the job was to catch the eye of several of the Navy pilots, not for a lack of trying to dissuade them. You knew better than to shit where you ate, knew better than to mess around with a Navy man who could very well have a girl at any and every port of call. You were here to do your job first and foremost.

But that started to change. Jake had caught your eye, not just because of the blonde hair that always seemed to glow in the late afternoon California sun, the green eyes that seemed to clock where you were in a crowd, or because he was magnetic in a room of people, but because you wanted to know more about him. He was an enigma to you aside from his medical record. You knew that he’d broken his elbow in high school playing football, that he’d sprained an ankle tripping over a step, hell you even knew his medication allergies. But anything personal, you could forget about.

So you stuck it out, keeping your distance and content to smother the other pilots in your affection.

===

It was late in the evening as you watched Rooster play yet another song that was older than he was, his squadron around him yelling along to the words. You and Bradley had been close since the mission he refused to talk about, only that he and his godfather had nearly died. You two had also engaged in a casual relationship, hooking up on the off chance neither of you had a partner, but other than the occasional romp in the sheets, you two were as close as best friends. It’s why you were here tonight.

Taking a sip from your drink, you turned to watch the crowd around you, scanning the room and enjoying your people watching. You didn’t know how long you’d been staring around the room, but it had been long enough that Bradley had stepped away from the piano to stand behind you. “Hey Honey.”

You spun around, hand pressed to your chest. “Jesus fuck Bradshaw! You better not give your favourite medic a heart attack. Who else would treat your ass after you fell off another ladder?”

“That’s just rude, Honey Bee,” he teased, winking at you over his sunglasses that had fallen down his nose. “You know no one else fixes me up like you do.”

“Damn right. So watch it,” you shot back, snatching his sunglasses off his face and putting them on your own face. “Also sunglasses at 10 pm? Who are you fooling?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes at your smirk. “Okay, okay. I came over here to give you a hug ‘cause you’ve been sitting over here by yourself. But since you decided to be rude, I’m just gonna walk away.” Bradley turned, moving through the crowd away from you and towards his team on the other side of the bar.

“Fuck you!” You yelled after him, downing your drink and chasing after him. You caught up to him, tapping him on the shoulder and when he turned, you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. “You’re a real jerk, Bradshaw. You know that?”

He laughed, hugging you back. “And you’re a real smart ass for being as sweet as you are, Honey.” Bradley grinned down at you, pulling his aviators off your face and tucked an arm in the collar of his shirt. “Sometimes it feels like I gotta wrangle you.”

You pulled back grinning at him. “You love me.” You felt energised, like that one simple hug had been injected with jet fuel. You were a social butterfly if you had enough hugs throughout the night and thankfully the Daggers had a number of people who loved your playful teasing and joyous affection. It was how you spread your love and you would be damned if Bradley or his friends felt like you weren’t appreciative of how they kept him and each other safe.

“Regretfully,” he quipped, slapping your shoulder and moving over to where Phoenix and Coyote were chatting.

“Dick!” You called after him, laughing when he flipped you off, his back still turned.

You fell into easy conversation with Bob and Fanboy, grinning when Bob pressed his side to you for a moment after a particularly funny joke. And you continued to bounce around the little groups, laughing loudly and uproariously even though you’d only had one drink hours earlier. “How do you do it, Honey?” Payback asked after you’d come back from dancing with his WSO.

“Do what?”

“Have so much energy. I’d be exhausted if I were you.”

You grinned at him, a wide one showing your teeth. “Well Reuben, I see so many people because of work, but I’ve always been like this.”

“Now that,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “That I can picture. Little baby Honey with two braids making friends with everyone on the playground.”

You laughed with him, feeling alive with the energy in the room. It was only when you glanced around at the other Daggers did you notice a storm cloud underneath the ray of sunshine you were casting over your friends.

“Why don’t you turn your charm on Bagman over there? Seems like his battery is wearing out.” You jumped nearly elbowing Phoenix in the face.

A shrug. “He’s not my biggest fan,” you said simply, missing how Reuben and Nat gave each other a look over your head. “Besides, I don’t want to ruin his night even more than it seems to be going.”

“Mmm,” Natasha hummed noncommittally. “Still, I think you should at least try.”

You turned around. “Why? You all see how he seems to always stand on the opposite side of the room from me, how he barely says two words to me.” There was a frown on your face, something so uncharacteristic that it nearly had Payback choking on his drink as he saw it cross your face.

Natasha just raised an eyebrow and you folded like cheap cardboard. “Fine, but he’s not going to like this.”

You wove through the crowd, making your way over to the jukebox where Jake stood contemplating a song choice. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He didn’t look up at you, choosing instead to stare at the song list you know he’d practically memorized.

A beat of awkward silence passed. “So…” you started again. “You have a song in mind or is it going to be a random choice?”

“Why? You have something you want to play instead?” His tone was sharp, like he was trying to brush you off and it startled you. You could feel Nat’s curious eyes on you and were half tempted to turn around and shout ‘See?!’ in her direction.

“N-no. I was just curious.” Now you were feeling unwelcome. Everything about his body language screamed ‘leave me alone’. He was tense, speaking through gritted teeth, hand white knuckling his beer bottle. “Especially since Rooster always seems to hijack the music whenever you pick a song.”

Jake didn’t say anything, going back to faking his pondering over song choices. You stayed for another moment, before nodding to yourself. “O-okay.” You gave him a hesitant smile before slipping away back towards Natasha. Seconds later, you heard Def Leppard begin to blare through the bar as Jake strolled through the crowd, using his size to gently pass a group of what looked like college girls, whose giggles seemed to carry over the music.

“See?!” You hissed at Natasha. “He would rather fake stare at a music selection he has memorized than talk to me. He clearly can’t stand me!”

Natasha just gave you a cryptic look before drawing you into a conversation about the strangest accident you had ever seen or had. It was enough to draw you focus away from the blonde pilot icing you out, but it also prevented you from catching Jake’s glances your way.

He’d managed to escape your notice for most of the night, choosing to keep to himself or chat with Coyote on the off chance you hadn’t barged into their little group. Contrary to what you thought, Jake didn’t hate you. In fact, he was almost envious of your ability to shine in a room this big. You bounced around like the light off a disco ball, your personality as vibrant as the colours that radiated off as it spun.

The biggest thing he was jealous of though, was the fact that you were free with your affection. You always had a hug and a smile for everyone and if anyone tried to dull your shine, it was like you couldn’t be touched. Jake was jealous of the easy way in which you could ask for a hug to satisfy you.

He couldn’t. Jake yearned for the freedom to be openly affectionate, craved the feeling of being held, but he had spent so long being told that men didn’t do that, that he had to suck it up and be a man. The few girls that had stuck around longer than just one night had never wanted to be close. Sure they had cuddled, but they had all drawn the line at him holding their hand, hugging them from behind. They had only seen him for the prowess and personality he exuded as Hangman, but he was tired of splitting himself down the middle. He wanted someone who wanted Jake too, not just the cocky persona he used to show off. The persona that had made his father spare half a glance his way. He wanted hugs. He just couldn’t ask for them, so he stayed away from you and your sunshine. Created distance between himself and your vibrancy, if only so you wouldn’t pick up on the fact that he desperately needed the affection you distributed in excess.

The half a day he’d spent under your care weeks ago stuck in his memory. Jake hadn’t managed to grab breakfast or lunch on a hot day, hadn’t had much sleep or water, and between the endless up and down, pulling G’s, and push-ups from losing an exercise, the heat became too much for him. He’d passed out halfway through his push-ups, falling face first to the tarmac and scaring the hell out of Hondo who was supervising.

He had been rushed immediately into the infirmary, falling into your capable hands. You had been incredibly gentle checking vital signs, your voice as soothing as a cool damp cloth pressed against feverish skin. You’d stolen his breath when you asked the questions you had memorized due to their frequency of use, and Jake felt like he’d been sucker punched. He didn’t remember much, having spent most of the experience sleeping, but he dreamt of you and every facet of you that had captured his heart and mind over the weeks you had gotten to know one another.

That experience was beside the point though. Instead of asking and being as open and carefree as you were with your love, Jake left himself to revel in the pats on the back, the handshakes, and bro hugs that were “appropriate for a man”. He let himself watch as you hugged Bradshaw, danced with Fanboy, and seemed closer to his squadron than he himself.

So he pushed you away and hoped you didn’t see through him.

===

Days later, you were bustling around the infirmary. You hadn’t seen the Daggers since the night at The Hard Deck and it was kind of taking a toll on your usual bubbly energy. You still had a smile for everyone, but it had started to become forced the longer your shift went on.

Earlier in the day, a pilot had passed out from the summer heat and hit his head hard enough that he bled. You had been filling out reports when the wall of noise hit you and you were on your feet in half a heart beat.

You hadn’t sat down since. That one accident had set off a never-ending queue of people walking through the doors and your feet hurt.

Sat at the desk at the front of the infirmary, you blew out a sigh. 10 more minutes. 10 minutes and then you could go home and relax.

“You good, Honey?” Bradley. You could recognize that smooth voice anywhere.

You nodded tiredly. “Yeah. Just really busy today.”

“I get that.”

“So.” You drew yourself up from your chair, stretching out your arms. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

“I was hoping that you could check on Hangman.”

You blinked at him, thoroughly confused. “What?”

Bradley gave you a flat look. “You heard me.”

“Why?”

“Because he's been reckless lately. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed if he keeps flying like he has.” There was nothing but seriousness in his amber eyes. Every micro expression that flickered over your friend’s face was one of deep concern.

You nodded. “Okay. It will have to be tomorrow though, Roo. I just finished my shift.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry Honey, but I’m worried about him. He won’t talk to anyone and Mav is at his wits’ end. Can you swing by today?”

Internally, you groaned. Jake hated you, you were convinced of that. Yet Bradley seemed genuinely concerned for his teammate and despite your best attempts, you hadn’t been able to put him from your mind. “Yeah, okay. But if he blows up at me, Roo, I swear to God I will hurt you.”

Rooster grinned. He knew your threat was an empty one, you both did. You cared about him too much to actually follow through with it. “Thank you, Honey. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you grumbled as you walked forward to hug him, burying your face in his flight suit. “You really do.”

You felt him scoff as he hugged you back, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling back. “Have a good night, Honey.”

“Thanks Roo. Drive safe.”

And then he was gone.

Fuck. What had you just agreed to do? You buried your face in your hands and blew out a long breath. This was going to be a long night.

===

Bradley had texted you Jake’s address as you finished changing out of your scrubs. You knew he was worried, but a part of you was anxious about what would happen should Jake open the door and see you. Would he slam the door in your face? Would he invite you in and then hit you with the cold-shoulder?

Jake Seresin made you nervous. Pretty people always did, and Jake was no exception. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about the two of you, but you never let your fantasies go too far. They were delusions. Jake avoided you at any chance he could, so you had one chance to make sure that he understood that you didn’t resent him even if he so clearly did.

Twenty minutes later, you pulled into his driveway behind the black truck that was so quintessentially Jake it hurt. You walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell and trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

The blue door opened up and Jake stared at you with confusion written all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, mustering up some courage to say “Rooster sent me. Can I come in?”

“Sure?” Jake held the door open, stepping aside to let you pass by him. “You have strange timing. I just got Bradshit off my ass.”

“Heh yeah. It’s almost like an intervention or something.” Inwardly, you were cringing. Why had you said that? God, it was like any social skills you had vanished the minute you were around the blonde man. “Your house is nice. I love the colour of the hardwood.”

“Thanks.” Jake’s voice was back to short and clipped. It was clear that he was on edge now. Likely thanks to your stupid comment. Why couldn’t the floor just crack open beneath you right now and spare you the awkwardness? “So why are you here?”

You took a deep breath, letting your eyes meet his own. “Rooster is worried about you. He didn’t say why, just that I should check on you.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, averting his gaze. His arms were crossed over his chest, the black T-shirt clinging mouthwateringly to his arms and shoulders- you shook yourself mentally, cringing again at your thoughts. “You can go now.” Jake’s rushed voice cut through your self-judgement and brought you immediately back into his entryway where he stood not quite glaring at you.

Your interest was piqued by his rush of words. “That was awfully quick,” you remarked as casually as you could. “Jake, whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you. I only want to help.”

“Like I said, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Deep down, a part of him was screaming at himself to let you in. To let you help. He would tell you everything if you only asked, if you stayed a little longer. Jake clenched his hand into a fist, restraining himself from capturing you in a hug and never letting go. He shouldn’t have these thoughts. You were just being nice. It didn’t mean anything. Right?

“But I am going to. And your team is worried too.” You tried to reason with him, as you watched him closely.

Jake shook his head. “How many times do I have to say this? I. Am. Fine. Okay?” His voice was raised and he seemed just as shocked as you by his outburst. “I’m sorry, but I am fine.” No. God no. Why had he shouted? Even he could see right through himself, couldn’t you? He really hoped you did.

You gave him a kind smile, before replying “It’s okay, Jake. I’d offer a hug, but I know how much you hate them. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” You turned back to the door, opening it up and slipping past Jake, your arm brushing his chest and his breath hitched.

Turning around, you faced him and watched his eyes land on everything but you. “Jake?” Your voice was quiet, like you were afraid to push him. “Are you really okay?”

He shook his head, still looking at the floor. “No,” he whispered. The fight had drained out of him, his resolve crashing down around him. When he did meet your eyes, you were astounded by the myriad of emotions you found swirling deep within the green irises.

“Where’s your living room?” You asked gently, hoping that you both could have this conversation in a more comfortable place. Especially since Jake looked like he would collapse at any moment.

“Down the hall,” he said hoarsely, pointing ahead of you both.

You offered your hand to him and could barely contain the shocked noise when he took it. You felt the calluses on his palms, the rough parts that scratched at your own hands, but there was also a softness in them. The parts he tried to keep out of the light. “Come, let’s go sit.”

You perched on the edge of the brown couch and patted the space next to you. When he sat, you noticed how it seemed like he had purposely left space between you both. “So,” you began cautiously. “What’s happened?”

There was silence for a moment, before Jake spoke. “Too much,” he mumbled so quietly that you barely heard him. “And I just… I don’t know how to fix it.” He was still lying to himself. He knew how to fix it, he was just scared of losing the persona he’d spent most of his life perfecting. He knew that he craved the closeness that you could give him, he just couldn’t ask for it.

“Hmmm…” your hum was soft. Everything about you was soft, Jake thought. It’s why you were so liberal with your love. “Well, can I help you?”

He nodded before he could stop himself. Jake risked it and finally glanced up at you. Where he was expecting judgement or pity, all he saw was empathy, kindness, and compassion. It nearly stole his breath at just how much you cared. You cared about him, even after everything. “Y-yeah. You can,” his voice cracked on the words, but he steeled himself and refused to look away.

You gave him a soft smile, watching his face carefully. Jake seemed to be at war with himself, torn between choosing what he always had or finally allowing himself what he needed. Swallowing, you spoke gently. “How can I help?”

Those four words were the breaking point for Jake who had been strong for too long. The bottle holding in all his yearning, his wishful thinking, all of it, exploded in his chest and he began to sob.

Your eyes flew wide and you immediately gathered him in your arms, turning him into your shoulder. A moment passed before you realized what you had done and you made to let go, but found that Jake had clung to your sweater as he cried.

Each tear set free something deep inside him and Jake knew that nothing would be the same after this. His grip on his feelings had slipped and here he was, sobbing into your shoulder like a child who’d lost their favourite toy. But despite the shame he felt, Jake couldn’t stop and a part of him didn’t want to. You were here, whispering soft words of comfort, your touch grounding him in a way that reminded him how long he’d been floating on his own.

His mind could only focus on the pain he was trying to purge from his body. With each sob, his resolve on his self-judgements snapped and they floated away on the river of tears he cried for the parts of him he had spent too long hiding for fear they would be stripped from him.

Then, with sudden clarity, Jake realized what he was doing. He was mourning everything he’d lost. Everything that had made little Jake Seresin who he was. The excitement of flying, loving his friends with everything he had, all of it gone to appease someone who had been gone from this world for years now. He only cried harder at the thought of his younger self watching who he was now and being disappointed, asking him why he’d stopped hugging people. Why he’d pushed away someone who loved hugs as much as he had.

His face was buried in your neck, the tears wetting your skin. He clung to you, so afraid that if he let go that you’d vanish. And when you vanished, you’d take with you your kindness, the love you spread around so easily, everything Jake knew he didn’t deserve. How could he? You were a sunbeam that had fallen from the heavens above, casting your warmth on everything and everyone you touched. You were magic to him.

Your heart broke for the man in your arms. You silently cursed the pressure he was under as a pilot and whatever rigidity in his upbringing had made it so he didn’t or couldn’t express his true feelings. It hurt to hear his sobs but you knew that this was years of pain, frustration, and anger pouring out of a narrow bottle he had tried so long to keep shut. “I’m here, Jake. Shhh, I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry, Honey.”

He felt you stiffen and pull back just a little. “Look at me Jake.” He chanced it, looking up at your beautiful face, cataloguing the fierce look in your eyes that was offset by the gentleness of your touch. “Never, never apologize for your feelings. You hear me?” Jake nodded tearfully, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “You can let go of your burden right now. I’m here for you, Jake.”

Your words only set him off again. They reminded him so much of his mother’s own and it cut him deep. She was the light in his life until somehow you’d eclipsed it. She had always given him the love he had craved and had been denied by his father, who had raised him never to express his emotions, yet he’d forgotten about anger. Mark Seresin was an angry man trapped inside the supposed standards of how a Texan man ought to be. He was needlessly hard on his boys, believing that it was his duty to ensure that every emotion had been beaten and worked out of them. He had raised his sons that crying was for babies and little girls. But he would never know how much damage had been done from his ‘tough love’. Mark Seresin would never see his sons snap under the pressure he had placed upon them and Jake was more than okay with that.

And so Jake poured that story out between tears, keeping his hands caught in the fabric of your hoodie, desperately trying to keep you close. He couldn’t have you slipping away from him, but even though he’d cried all over you, ripped open the deepest darkest parts of himself, you didn’t move except to slide backwards on the couch, settling yourself. You had cemented yourself in his life just by holding him close and Jake knew that you could never be aware of just how much that meant to him, how much he loved you for that.

You were going to stay. You held him as his sobs petered out. Held him close as he brought his breathing back to normal, and even as he tried apologizing. But you refused to hear it. “I said I wasn’t going anywhere and I meant it, Jake. Okay?” Your voice was still soft, your hand rubbing circles on his back as you both lay on his couch. He had his head pillowed on your chest, lying there despite the late hour. “You know you can talk to me, right? I meant it when I said I wouldn’t judge.”

“I know.” Jake hated how small his voice sounded, but he was so tired. Tired of the judgement he inflicted upon himself, the arbitrary scale he used to compare himself to others. He just wanted to rest and he was scared. His hard shell had been weakened under his breakdown and this was so new to him. Jake felt exposed, like he’d been stripped naked before you and left to face your judgement.

The only question was: would you still love him after this?

Jake was shaken from his thoughts when you said his name in that soft voice of yours. “What are you thinking about?”

He hummed. “How much I regret crying. I have a headache,” Jake let out a little chuckle at his words. “God, Honey, what do you think of me right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “I’m thinking about how strong you are, how much courage it took you to be so brave. You let your guard down and I am so proud of you for that, Jake.”

Jake’s cheeks pinked. “I might cry again if you keep that up,” he said thickly, swallowing the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

“I mean it. I am so proud of you, Jake Seresin, and I will say it as many times as I need to so it gets through your thick skull.” Your tone left no room for argument, but you were still smiling down at him, and the warmth of it washed over him like pulling a thick quilt over oneself during the deepest winter storm.

“I-I think I…” Jake trailed off, catching the end of his sentence before he could say it, before he could confess right then and there. “I have shit timing, holy fuck.”

You only raised a confused eyebrow at him. “Jake, what…?”

“I love you.”

He felt your giggle against his cheek, heard the peals of laughter go ringing through his ears. “I know, you sap. I love you too.”

“Wha- How did you know?”

“The infirmary. When you passed out a few weeks ago because you hadn’t had enough to eat, you were mumbling in your sleep. I just assumed you were calling your partner honey, but then you called me Honey Bee when you woke up and I just knew.” When Jake met your gaze, he saw your eyes full of what could only be described as the purest love. “I think I knew before you did.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Well then,” he began. “Think I should make it official then?” He’d pushed himself up onto his elbows on either side of you and smiled down at you.

You looked adorably confused under his gaze, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You hadn’t expected it so you let out a muffled squeak that made Jake chuckle against your lips when he pulled away. “Honey…”

A wide grin nearly split your face in two as you looked up at Jake hovering over you. It took nothing for you to cup his face in your hands and pull him down into yet another kiss, this one more intense, intoxicating one another on the feeling of your lips slotting together.

Jake rested his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy and those green eyes, the ones that had enchanted you from the minute you met, fell shut. “Honey. My Honey Bee…” he whispered millimeters from your lips.

“Yours,” you whispered back, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek so lightly Jake thought he’d imagined it. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, because you know that I will not be an idle partner in this relationship, mister.”

He laughed and it had never sounded so carefree to his ears. You had broken through his walls, forcing your way in with a touch so gentle Jake hadn’t seen you coming until you held his heart at your mercy and by the grace of whatever God sat in the heavens, you had breathed joy and light back into his soul. Jake was utterly devoted to you and your light, wholly captivated by you. You had remade him with laughter in his heart, reshaped his broken heart in your capable, yet gentle hands.

“-ake? Jake? Where’d you go?” Worry had seeped into your tone, your brows furrowing under the concern you felt. He’d spaced out a few times now, and while you were worried, you knew that it was likely residual doubt and his own way of trying to process the events prior. “You should go to bed, Jakey. It’s late.” Your thumb traced the ridge of his jawline, bringing him back into himself.

“Stay.” The words were out before he could stop them. “Please.”

“Okay.”

One word, and Jake knew that he’d be alright, that he was safe.

You were here to stay, his Honey Bee.

===

A/N: big thanks to Star for proofreading and telling me that this wasn’t absolute hot garbage! And for the record, this isn’t Jake’s Dagger Comfort fic. That is still in the pipeline somewhere lol

Taglist: @sarahsmi13s @startrekfangirl2233 @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @horseshoegirl @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @dakotakazansky @thedroneranger @aviatorobsessed @csmt-m

[ivymarquis]

ghost + "like what you see?"

😘

Sin Sunday

Cardio

Pairing| Simon Riley x F!Reader Rating| T Word Count| ~450 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Nothing too exceptional; some jokey slut shaming because we love a good grey sweatpants 🤭 Technically SFW just because Im trying to keep these short otherwise they will become 5k works and take 3 calendar years to answer. Also TECHNICALLY this fits @glitterypirateduck’s ghost challenge with the grey sweatpants so 😎😎😎😎

“Where are you going, dressed like a slut?”

Simon might be a man of few words, but there are few times in life where he’s rendered well and truly speechless.

It takes a second, but he does eventually find words. It’s obvious from your tone that you’re being a little cocktease, but he’s fully dressed. A session at the gym with Johnny is a routine occurrence. He’s wearing a T-shirt and full length sweatpants for fuck’s s-

Ah. The grey sweatpants. That’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.

He doesn’t get exactly what the appeal is- wasn’t even thinking about it, really when he got dressed.

You’re staring him down like a dog tempted with a bone, and Simon’s got a decision to make, doesn’t he?

“Like what you see, do you?”

Your answer is a simple nod, eyes trained on the sweatpants.

“Was gonna go hit the gym with Johnny. Not sure if that’s the plan anymore.”

He most assuredly can continue on with his plans for the day- go get a workout with Johnny, come back and fuck you stupid.

But clearly he’s got your attention front and center. That is a difficult thing to walk away from.

“Don’t let me get in the way of your plans,” you assure him. “But do hurry back. I’ll uh,” your eyes flick up to him and roam, appreciating the absolute unit of a man you get to call yours, “I’ll be here.”

“That so?” He questions. “Cause now I’m thinking today’s more a day for cardio.”

You pick up on his subtle implication immediately, and given how you go stock-still he shouldn’t be surprised when you’re shooting up from the couch, using the piece of furniture as a barrier to tease him.

Oh now it’s fucking on. You want to play a game, do you?

He can’t help but feel the affection he has for you spill over as he watches and immediately complies with your game. The bright eyed sparkle as you grin and giggle at him, faking out one direction or the next and leading him to chase you around the furniture- just out of reach that he can’t grab you across the shorter side.

Course, he’s on a highly skilled task force and you aren’t, so this little game will only go for as long as Simon feels like. But there’s no fun in not humoring you, is there?

Simon gets in his head enough you actually do manage to fake him out, taking advantage of the opportunity to bolt past him towards the bedroom.

The best kind of quarry is one that wants to be caught, he can’t help but think to himself as he chases after you.

[officialspec]

self indulgent dnd yuris

[onebarofsoap]

played pokemon platinum recently and swept the league with nothing but my overleveled team of two guys named steamed bun and egg tart 💪

[existentialcynic]

knight in black leather

Janine ditching you on a night out might just work in your favour.

Pairing(s): melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

Word count: ~1.4k

Warning(s): suggestive themes but no actual smut, mild harassment

You didn’t realise you were even tipsy until you stood up from the couch you were sharing with Janine - scratch that, Janine and Gregory. When did he get here? Why were you here? When the decidedly reserved Miss Teagues invited you out with her to the hookah bar with a woman you had already forgotten the name of, you expected to have one drink before your work friend called it quits and wanted to leave. Instead, she’s one encouraging nudge away from shoving her tongue down another colleague’s throat, and you couldn’t interrupt to ask her to drive you home.

Shouldering your way through the thick crowd, you walk into the - surprisingly - empty bathroom, grimacing at the way your shoes stick to the floor as you sway slightly. Pulling out your phone, your finger presses the screen to call Jacob.

“Hello,” he answers after a few rings, dragging the word out and causing you to raise a brow he can’t see.

“Jacob? Janine is… busy and can’t drive me home. I don’t want to waste half my paycheque on an Uber, can you come get me?”

He laughs a little too loud, making you pull the phone away from your ear. “No can do I’m afraid, I’m getting turnt with Barb and Mel.”

Laughter bubbles out of your chest - you can practically feel the eye rolls your other colleagues are giving the oblivious man on the phone. A faint voice floats through the phone, the unmistakable Philly accent making you blush in your inebriated state. “Who’s that? Your shoe guy boyfriend?” Jacob huffs into the phone, and you listen quietly as he explains “the deets” to Barbara and Melissa. A bit of shuffling meets your ear before the woman of the hour speaks directly into the phone.

“Hey, I’ll come get you, I’m not drunk like numb nuts here. I live closer anyways.” You can hear Barb start to say something, but Melissa cuts her off. “If you puke in my car you’ll wish you never went into teaching in the first place.”

“I’m not that drunk,” you groan, “Janine just ditched me and she’s my ride.”

“Whatever hot shot. I’ll be there soon.” She hangs up before you can respond. Deciding one last drink can’t hurt, you exit the bathroom and slide into an empty seat at the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.

“Now what’s a sexy thing like you doing all alone,” questions a jarring male voice from behind you. Plastering the most convincing smile you can muster, you turn to see a man undressing you with his eyes and leaning in way too close for comfort.

“I’m just waiting for my ride,” you reply, turning back to sip on the drink the bartender brought to you as the man spoke up again. “I can be your ride baby, in more ways than one,” he smirks, gripping the buckle on the front of his pants. Downing the drink, you grimace before stepping off the chair and away from the guy that just won’t take a hint.

“I’m good, actually.” A well-timed text lights up the screen on your phone, letting you know your redheaded colleague is outside. Shouldering past him and into the crowd, you slowly make your way to the door.

The icy December wind hits your body as you leave the warm, tobacco-scented air from the bar. You can almost feel yourself sobering up in the cold. Spotting Melissa idling at the curb, you start towards the parked car before a hand grips at your upper arm.

“C’mon baby, let me show you a good time.” The man from the bar turns you towards him, the stench of liquor coming off him in waves. “Don’t be a tease.”

“Hey I’m not interested, get your hands off me,” you snap, yanking your arm back with no luck. The man is inches taller than you, and strong if his grip was any indicator. Your heart races when you see that he’s starting to get angry.

A soft, warm arm wraps around your waist, fingers digging into your hip. The contrast between it and the man in front of you makes you shiver. The voice that you heard over the phone earlier is eerily sharp, accent thicker now that the owner is irritated. “Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?”

Turning your head, the redhead holds your gaze; her eyes are soft but have an edge to them that would have made you blush if there wasn’t a stranger gripping your arm. “No, I’m okay.”

A dark chuckle escapes the older woman’s lips. Moving to face the drunkard in front of the two of you, any kindness that she had shown you dissolves as she starts to speak. “My girlfriend is a lot nicer than me. Get your hands off her or it’ll be the last time you use that hand for a long time, I guarantee that.”

“Whatever bitch,” the man spits out, loosening his hold and moving back towards the bar. That soft hand around your waist moves up to your bicep, massaging it gently as its owner ducks her head to look at your face. “Hey, are you okay honey?” You give her a dazed nod, your brain only focusing on the woman touching your arm.

“Are you sure?” Her other hand moves to your face, palm cupping your reddening cheek. You nod again.

“I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you return, hand coming up to slap over your mouth after your thoughts slip out. Damn that last drink. The laugh from earlier meets your ears again, Melissa’s eyes darting down to your covered mouth. Her fingers slip around your wrist, moving your hand away from your face and using the grip to pull your body closer to hers.

You knew you were sobering up fast but the touch of the woman in front of you is making your head swim, your stomach flutter. A stuttering breath escapes your lips when Melissa’s hand grabs your hip possessively, no longer putting on a show for anyone. “Really? That was nothing. I can do so much better than that, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” She nods, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Eyes glancing at the ruby lipstick, you watch a smirk bloom as she catches you staring. Your cheeks are no doubt the same shade as the swipe of colour you were looking at, and you slowly meet Melissa’s fiery gaze.

“Why don’t you show me then, Schemmenti?”

Instantly, the soft lips that had you hypnotised earlier are now pressed against your own. The hand wrapped around your wrist moves to your bicep, your shoulder, and up the nape of your neck. Sharp acrylics drag across your scalp before gathering a fistful of hair and giving an experimental tug that has you practically whimpering. It gives her the leverage to slip her tongue into your mouth, confidently brushing it against yours. She tastes like sugar cookies and wine as red as her lips. Fumbling, one hand grips the lapel of her jacket - leather, your favourite - while the other moves underneath it to dig your fingers into her lower back. It pulls an appreciative groan from the other woman, and she starts to back you towards her car.

Your back hits the side of Melissa’s car, forcing a chuckle out from your chest. Pulling away from the redhead, you press kisses down her jaw, stopping just below her ear. “You playing the protective girlfriend role is doing something to me, Mel,” you sigh, biting her pulse point softly enough that it won't leave a mark. It prompts her to tighten her hold on your hair, and you let out a deep moan at the slight sting.

“Is that right, honey?” You hum in response, pulling her free hand forward until she's cupping you through your pants. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, red as sin itself. Pupils blown, Melissa kisses you hungrily, not removing her hand but not daring to go further. Pulling back, you grab her chin to make her look at you.

“Take me somewhere private and I’ll show you just how much,” you murmur, watching Melissa stutter before turning to the car door she’s pressed you next to and opening it for you. Settling in the seat as Melissa rounds the car, you’re still catching your breath as she starts the engine. “I live closer,” Melissa states, just as breathless as you are as she pulls away from the curb. Chuckling as you remember that phrase from earlier - in a much different context - you squirm in your seat at the thought of what’s to come.

[maxphilippa]

adventure time when it's adventure time

[fernlessbastard]

Oh man, I'm excited! Writing is definitely a pain in the ass (I've taken many years of novels, creative writing, debate, etcetera). Your story is incredibly enthralling and so accurate in regards to characters, I'm surprised anyone would find anything (such as repetition of certain words) bothersome.

Nonetheless, I do understand wanting it to be perfect and I hope reading/proofing over it goes well for you two. ❤️

-🎲 anon

Thank you so muchh

And don't worry, it's not that my boyfriend finds it bothersome and such - it just knows that I'm an insane perfectionist about my writing, and if I later find some repetition or a wonky sentence I will proclaim that I've brought dishonour to writing as an art form and I'll never write again (I'm a little bit dramatic like that UwU--) (also I'd definitely end up writing again, it'd just take like a long time and I'd rather finish IUTMTM before the death of the universe/lh)

To be fair it is in a decent part that perfectionism that lets me write the way I do. Like, yes, writing badly is much better than not writing, and I do my best to live by that, but editing is a different issue - I've had at least 7 drafts of chapter 2 as of now (and I only change the draft when I decide there's a big part I want to rewrite from scratch)(I actually could post like the first draft here - that could be interesting, idk, I'll maybe consider it)

But yeah, I will slave over a draft until I've squeezed everything I humanly could out of it, in which case either I think it's actually genuinely good and I enjoy reading it (and I'm very critical of my work), or until I decide it's hopeless, and just simply rewrite it completely from scratch, either keeping only specific passages, the general idea, or sometimes nothing at all

Tbh I think it's got to do with the fact that it's not a medium that's "native" to me, so to speak. Losing Face was my first actual piece of writing, with my previous "attempts" (mostly stories for school) consisting of like, much less than a thousand word each. I started writing a dnf/xdnf smut after my bf dared me to, which got abandoned at 2k words (I low-key wanna post that at some point too as a little crack one-shot, but i'd have to decide if I want it to be an actual piece of writing, in which case I'd have to finish it, or if I just want it to be a "look, this is where I started" kind of thing). I was praised for my art, so I gravitated towards that, and the more I did, the more embarrassed and ashamed I felt of my unrealised "affair" with writing. I'd write elaborate descriptions of headcanons and scenarios, fishing for compliments to have an excuse to actually write something. I don't remember how I started truly writing, but it absolutely had to do with the support I always get from my partner. And oh god, how I adore writing. I've always loved telling a story, but what truly makes me obsessed with it is playing with language itself. I love painting mental pictures. I love elaborate metaphors. I love portraying ugliness in a raw way that paradoxically makes it strangely beautiful. I love the words that don't just express their message through literal meaning, but also through how they visually look, how they sound, what core and pre-/inter-/suffix they have, how many syllables they have (my favourite go-to example is in Will Wood's "Front Street" - "the gnashing teeth will masticate the bones from the flesh"); I love using those words to juxtapose feelings (such as describing something as both raw and ugly, and yet beautiful exactly because of that). I love portraying ugliness in a raw way that paradoxically makes it strangely beautiful. I love playing with rhythm and momentum and run-on sentences, I love playing with formatting, to make the text flow on the page, I love using subtle sarcasm and making fun of the characters and their flawed logic through a flat narrating tone, and I love sprinkling characters' unreliable, subjective thoughts with nothing to distinct them from the rest of the text aside italics (I think it's much more immersive, adds to a "pov" lets the narrative evolve with the way characters think, and allows for a better flow of the text that ""(...)" he thought"). I love having a narrator with that subtle sass where the "insults" are indirect. When I write, I have several tabs open with thesauruses and dictionaries, not because I don't know the words I use (I make sure to keep my language authentic and to not overuse complex words just because - they all have a purpose, and 99,99% of the words I look up I already know), but because if I look up synonyms/translations then I have all the possible words in front of me and I can compare exactly how they look and sound (I'm heavily visual, ironically enough). I love pulling from more common Polish metaphors/sayings to form a more elaborate, non-obvious sentence/metaphor in English, and I love using translating as a tool to look for synonyms/replacements that maybe aren't an obvious alternative. I love writing scenes that feel genuine and real, and including the "ugly", human parts. I love writing flawed characters, I love describing their inner worlds, I love writing their streams of consciousness - I love turning them into real people (to the best of my abilities).

I love writing for the process. And it's funny, cause I don't exactly have that with art always. I'll be honest - I don't always love sketching and doodling. I do love watercolours. I'm sure it's honestly visible in how I paint, but playing with colours, layering, shading, shapes, undertones, etc is just my favourite thing in the world. But doodling by itself? Heavily depends, and a good portion of the time I just want to see the doodle ready, or to skip to watercolours, if I'm painting (although recently I've been getting better at just enjoying the process). But writing? Sure, sometimes I just want it over with, but the only reason why I'm able to go through all the drafts and countless edits is because just like with watercolours, I simply love the process of perfecting it, even if it gets frustrating.

TLDR I absolutely adore writing as an art form, holy shit it's literally so cool and language is even cooler and just

Writing<333

OH also btw I have since checked my document, and I misremembered - chapter 2 is 8k words--

[fern-writes-whump]

question for my fellow writers/readers:

do you also have a default floorplan? like a flat / house layout you'll imagine until the description conflicts with it?

[lillylunala]

Fionna and Cake has jumpstarted my sleeping Adventure Time hyperfixation all over again

So have some quick doodles of the best character

[captainfern]

fern rant below lol

yk one thing i have noticed both on tiktok, here and the rest of the internet is the “pornification” of media

by that i mean the standards people are being held to in regards of sexual attraction or just “beauty standards in general” and how there is this sudden increase of ideals and values built on the foundation of toxic pornography

i mean there are several examples, but the most common ideals you see typically relate to someone’s body and someone’s body hair and i have a bit to say on the matter, especially as someone who creates “pornographic” content

let’s talk body first

you are beautiful. it does not matter whether the internet perceives you as anything more or less than that. you are beautiful exactly the way you are

the pornification of modern media will tell you that you have to look a certain way. you will be told you can’t be plus-size, or you can’t be too skinny, or you can’t be tall, or you can’t lack curves, or you can’t have hyperpigmentation, etc. don’t listen to that bullshit

you are beautiful and i luv you

i don’t want to see negative body image portrayed in fanfic: x reader’s can be plus-size, they can be tall, they can have no curves. they are x reader for a reason !!! the reader should be described as little as possible !!!

and in saying that, yeah, your favourite fictional characters would fuck a bigger person. they’d fuck a taller person. they’d love you for you and be completely and utterly obsessed with you. “but actually— 🤓☝️” shut up please <3

now body hair

its natural !!! it grows !!!

if you don’t wanna shave, don’t shave. if you wanna shave, shave. baby it’s your choice. do what YOU want. don’t let anybody else influence you and your body

the pornification of modern media has really fucked this kind of thinking up because people (a lot of men unfortunately) think they can dictate the way people / women present themselves ??? gtfo what lmao

“body hair is nasty, body hair is unnatural, body hair is unhygienic”— honey please don’t. it’s not any of these things. body hair is completely ok (and so is not wanting it on you ofc— as long as it’s your decision, not the persuasion of anyone else)

i saw a tiktok of these guys being like “oh i’d never have sex with someone who didn’t shave” and “ew i’d never eat hairy puss” brother you literally suck (it’s ok to have preference, but don’t make it out to be vile or weird or something other people have to agree with)

it’s natural. it’s normal. it’s perfectly hygienic if you keep it that way. if you meet someone like the guys i mentioned above, they ain’t worth your time

and yeah, john price and simon riley and johnny mactavish and kyle garrick would fuck you and eat you out if you didn’t shave cause they’re MEN

love yourself because you’re beautiful and i’m telling you so right now !!!

i felt the need to say this as i write pornography. i write x readers. i try to keep everything regarding body as neutral as possible (and if i ever fuck up, please let me know !!)

i often write about “fat” or “flesh” in my writing but that’s because i don’t see a lot of fics with it. if you want something different, specify in a request and i will write your request more to your liking <3 i want everyone to feel accepted and welcome here because it’s important !!!

on that note, you won’t catch me writing about “bare pussy” or “hairless legs” or whatever. i try to keep it all up to your imagination !!! (you will find hairy men tho !!! the lads i write for will always be hairy but that’s cause i’m a whore)

anyway i luv you and you are so so so beautiful and i hope you have an amazing day / night wherever you may be

this post is not an attack or anything of the sort. i’m just speaking my mind :)

lots of luv <3

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*the GIF belongs to @unicornships , but I found it on Pinterest for some reason*

A/N: So here we are! I am absolutely blown away by the response that my teaser generated, holy shit! And because you all seem to love Bear as much as I do, and because you crazy people have brought me to over 100 followers in 2 days, I figured that I would release Part 1 sooner than I planned!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (kill count and maybe a few other things), Jake being a flirt (which is it’s own warning)

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Teaser >> Part 2

===

It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been canceled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as nervous as a scared cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”

“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”

“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every person in the bar with an almost clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.

The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.

“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.

“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”

Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.

A few drinks later and the bar had begun to fill with people. Other Daggers had popped up, joining Jake and Coyote and Jake was relieved to fall back into his cocky pilot facade he used in public. It was only when he went back up to the bar some hours later to grab another round for the group that he saw her again. “Grab another round, Penny?”

“Give me just a minute, Hangman.” Penny gave him a nod and a smile before adding ice to a cup for someone else and handing it off.

“Hangman huh?” A voice near him spoke up. A quick turn and there stood the woman from earlier. This time however, she was standing up, and he admired the tone and definition of her arm under the tight black shirt she wore. “Must be military then.”

“What gave it away?” He asked, glancing over at his friends before looking back at her.

A sharp grin. “Maybe the fact that you hang out with guys named ‘Coyote’ and ‘Payback’. That, and you just have the look about you,” she finished, taking a swig of her drink.

“You got it right, sweetheart,” Jake flirted, leaning his forearms on the bar and turning to look at her. “One of the best in the room.”

Bear knew that there was a gleam in her eye. God, she loved shooting cocky men down and watching them run back to their friends, tails tucked between their legs. But something about this Hangman made her curious and she didn’t yet know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Is that so? So what makes a fly-boy like you better than most people in the room?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.

A grin crossed Jake’s face and he was so sure that he was in. “Attended Top Gun twice, two confirmed air-to-air kills, plus my good looks and endless amounts of good ole-fashioned Southern charm, sweetheart.”

“Wow. Two whole kills all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive,” Bear nodded, schooling her face so as to not burst out laughing. “Little ole me only has about 60 confirmed kills, but I’m sure it’s much more difficult in a plane.”

Jake, who had been grabbing the beer bottles from Penny, froze. “I’m sorry, 60?”

“Yup, all by myself too.” The mocking slipped free and the smirk on her face was wide and dangerous.

“Who are you?” He asked, concern flooding over his face. Jake knew that the look on his face was one of pure shock, and holy shit was he both terrified and turned on at the thought of this woman being far more dangerous than he was.

Bear grinned, finishing her drink and pulling her wallet out to pay. “Take a guess,” she replied.

“Well I was going to say one hell of a pilot, but I would have heard of you if you were a Navy pilot.”

“Maybe I’m Air Force,” she teased as she watched the conflicting emotions cross Hangman’s face.

“Nuh uh. No way.” Jake shook his head immediately in disgust. “There’s no way you’re Chair Force, not a chance.”

“Like you Navy boys don’t also sit in chairs,” came the retort. “But you are right, I’m not, as you put it, Chair Force.”

“So who are you?” He asked, ignoring the barb thrown his way and pausing to look at her. “You aren’t a pilot, that’s for damn sure, so who and what are you?”

“Bagman! What the hell is taking so long?” A shout came from over by the pool tables.

Rolling his eyes, Jake turned and yelled back “Jus’ wait a damn minute!” Looking back at the woman beside him, Jake nodded for her to tell him.

“Seals,” she replied. “Navy Seal Team Three.”

His green eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know that there were women in the Seals.”

“Not many. Less than 3% to be exact.” There was pride in her voice and Bear knew that. She had worked incredibly hard to be taken seriously during training and even now as the Commander of Seal Team Three, working in the Middle East and Southwest Asia. Her skills were necessary for the survival of her team and herself. Plus putting damn near three years into the US Navy Sniper School made it very clear just how dangerous she was and could be.

“Okay…umm…wow. I jus’…wow.” Jake was in awe, right here in front of him was a woman who was both badass and hot as hell, and the best part? She didn’t back down and made him work for every step. “That’s seriously badass. Why haven’t I heard about you or any of the others?”

“Cause we’re usually kept secret. If enemy states know that there are women on the teams, then we have targets on our backs. But I can tell you, because no one will believe you,” Bear smirked before continuing, “And yeah, I know it’s pretty badass. I worked hard for it. Just like you did for your two kills.” And with a wink, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd near the bar, leaving Jake speechless.

He made his way back to the pool tables, beers in hand and a shocked look on his face. Once he set the bottles down, Jake looked up and began to glance around for any sign of the Seal he had been speaking to. “Who you lookin’ for?” Coyote asked, stepping up next to him.

“A Navy Seal.”

Coyote did a double take. Swallowing his drink, he asked “Did you just say a Navy Seal? Where the hell did you find one of those?”

“Up at the bar not even five minutes ago.”

“The fuck you doin’ chattin’ up a Navy Seal?” Coyote was looking at him like he was crazy. “Don’t they like have three dozen ways to murder you with a rusty spoon?”

“Probably. But she was hot. And seemed to be interested, so who knows if I’ll be a rusty spoon victim,” Jake replied. Not so deep down he was hoping that he’d get the chance to see her again, but stumbled over the sudden realization that he didn’t know her name. Well, that would be a problem for the next time. Turning back to the group, Jake found them watching him with curious looks. “What?”

“Next time that Seal comes back,” Phoenix told him, “Make sure she says hi. I want to know whose ass to protect when you wind up dead in a back alley.”

“Et tu, Nix?” Jake gaped at her, mimicking a pearl-clutching older woman before his face fell back into its usual cocky grin. “You’ll meet her, and you’ll regret saying that.”

Phoenix laughed. “I’ve got the power of being a woman on my side. Bet she doesn’t often get the chance to chat about her experience as a woman in the Navy with someone who understands,” she replied with a shrug. “Now are we playing or what?”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your shirt on,” Jake drawled, setting his drink down and grabbing the pool cue from her outstretched hand. “Ready?”

“Fuck yeah.” A sharp grin from Phoenix had him smirking and if he spent the night trying to beat her, that was no one’s business but his own.

===

Training the next day was brutal. Maverick was clearly playing catch up from missing a day of training and he was making everyone hurt. “Come on Hangman, you’ll have to do better than that!” Phoenix had teased over the headset. “Gotta improve your skills or the hot Seal lady won’t be impressed!”

Jake rolled his eyes, knowing that everyone on the ground listening would hear him if he replied. So he stayed quiet, pulling the throttle up allowing him to go up and over Phoenix and Bob to try and lock on, but failed when Phoenix rolled out of the way. She led them in a chase across the sky, neither plane being ‘hit’, but neither pilot lost.

“What the hell was that?” Bob asked when they landed. “Where did you guys find a Navy Seal?”

Phoenix chuckled, “Bagman found her at the bar last night. He’s smitten.” Having landed back on the airstrip and taxiing it back towards its storing bay with the other Dagger aircraft, she unclipped herself from the harness and jumped down only to be met by Hangman standing right behind her. “Jesus fuck!” She yelled, right as Bob shouted “What the shit man?”

“Nothin’. Jus’ creepin’. Wanted to freak you out a bit,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin crossing his face.

“Asshole.”

“That’s me Nix, that’s me.” And Jake wandered off in the direction of the classroom to hear what Mav had to say.

Bob hopped down and watched him walk off. “You think he’s aware that a Navy Seal has standards?”

Phoenix snorted. “Unlikely. But maybe that’s why he’s trying to sneak around here so he can impress her. I won’t tell him that sneaking up on a Seal is a death sentence.” She pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. “C’mon Bobert, let's get ripped into by Mav.”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling,” Bob replied with his own grin. “And do we have to? I’d much rather stay here where it’s somewhat safe with my ego intact, thank you.”

“Right? I would too if Mav wouldn’t send out a search party to find us,” she quipped. “Come on, better late than never.”

“I think the Seal would disagree with you.” But he followed Natasha anyway, trying not to drag his heels to avoid what he was sure would be the telling off of his life.

===

Unsurprisingly, Bear was also on base. After all, this was the only Navy base on Coronado Island, so it made sense that all Navy personnel would be stationed together. What she wasn’t expecting was to run into a pair of Navy pilots as she walked back to her car. “Watch it,” she grumbled, shouldering her way past the man and woman.

“There are Seals on this base?”

“Might want to get your eyes checked there, cause I’m not in-fucking-visible,” she retorted.

“Hold up, sorry. Are you the Seal that Bagman spent half of last night talking about?” The man asked in a quiet voice.

Softening her approach just a smidge, Bear turned and nodded. “I am. Something you wanted to ask?”

“No, not at all. Just curious as to who got our precious Bagman all shook up,” the woman replied, before extending a hand to shake. “I’m Phoenix, this is Bob.”

“Good to meet you. I’m Bear.”

“Bear?” The woman known now as Phoenix asked, confusion crossing her face. “How’d you get that?”

Bear grinned. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” She offered, eyes flicking to the tall quiet man who stood awkwardly off to the side. “I don’t bite, Bob. Not unless you want me to,” she added with a wink.

Bob flushed, and shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d get punched.”

Bear gave him a look. “We’ll revisit that later, but continuing on. You were saying Phoenix?”

With a reluctant sigh, Phoenix explained how she’d had to make an emergency landing when her engines caught fire, resulting in a fiery tail across the sky. “Bird on fire, Phoenix. Same difference.”

The other woman chuckled to herself. “That’s a good one. Bear is because I’m cranky as fuck when I get up in the morning,” she told them.

Bob grinned at her explanation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that is great.”

“I should be heading off. Lots of meetings tomorrow and all, but it was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear headed back to her car. “Oh, and one last thing, if it ever gets out to Hangman you met me, don’t tell him my name. He has to work for that one,” she said loudly, turning to walk backwards.

“Sounds like a plan,” Phoenix called back, giving her a quick wave. Quietly to Bob, she whispered “Bagman is in for an uphill climb if he wants to even have a chance with her.”

“I know,” Bob whispered back. “It’s going to be great.”

===

A/N: So many thanks to @startrekfangirl2233, @dakotakazansky, and @sarahsmi13s for being the most incredible beta readers ever! I love you all so much!

And to all my beautiful readers: my inbox is open so come and scream at me in reblogs, comments, or DMs, I promise I will get to you all!

Taglist:

@startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @fandomxpreferences @fighterpilothoe @dempy @gizmodear @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @javden @snubug @indigomaegrimm @twsssmlmaa @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @waywardhunter95 @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @melss24 @heli991113 @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins Sorry if I missed anyone!

[blenselche]

scored the first bat sighting of spring today~