#cozy aircraft

[battybriefs]

Last year when they were rolling out the merch for the Kenab Rutan Canard Fly-in, they told us there was no interest in making black tshirts shirts so we made our own tshirts for the Fly-in this year. 😉

On the back panel illustration, I tried to do a modern take on the old national park posters. The background is the "timed air event" map for the event. Bottom is a sandstone formation in Utah called The Wave. The picture on the front of the shirt is a variation I made of one of Kenab City's event logos.

We took the designs in to a print shop to get made this morning. I'll post pictures of the shirts once we get them back.

* Ballast is the name of the weights used for weight distribution to help with the planes center of gravity.

[thewulf]

Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You’re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[notspiders]

Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi

~~~~

Price watches you through the window.

Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.

They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.

Naturally, the team was suspicious.

1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.

That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.

Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.

Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.

He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)

Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.

From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.

He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.

Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.

The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.

Price wishes his lunch would just be you.

[transform4u]

My boyfriend is super turned on by the idea of me turning straight. I don't get it but it's his fantasy.

Is there any way you can do that while letting me still be close to him? Like making sure I'm not homophobic when I turn and I can be his best friend at least?

As the night settled in and you and your boyfriend lounged on the couch, a cozy vibe had enveloped the apartment. You were deeply immersed in Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen, your laughter mingling. The comfort of the couch and the warmth of the moment made it all feel perfect—until the sudden, inexplicable noise shattered the tranquility.

A loud, jarring snaaaaaaaaapppp reverberated through the apartment, and the TV screen flickered with an unsettling intensity. In an instant, the show was replaced by a chaotic football game. The teams were a blur of color and motion, their logos unrecognizable as they dashed across the screen. You and your bofriend exchanged a look of utter bewilderment. Confusion danced in your eyes as you both instinctively reached for the remote.

But before you could even touch it, a searing heat shot through your hand. A wave of pain rippled through your entire body, spreading out like wildfire. As the pain intensified, your bodies began to change in ways that defied logic. You felt your legs part involuntarily, the couch seemed to shrink beneath you.

Your once lean and lithe form burgeoned, and you felt yourself growing taller, your muscles swelling like they were pumped full of adrenaline and gym-bagged protein powder. Each inch added to your height brought with it a new layer of muscle—biceps that now rivaled grapefruits, a chest like an impenetrable fortress, and abs that could slice through steel. Your shoulders were so broad they could serve as landing strips for small aircraft. Your face, framed by a sunburn that spoke of endless days in the sun, was marked by a square jawline that could cut glass, and your cocky smirk seemed permanently etched into your features. Your eyes squinted with the kind of intensity only found in those who have lived on a diet of pre-workout and relentless gym sessions.

Beside you, your bro-friend underwent a similar metamorphosis. His transformation was nothing short of Michelangelo’s finest sculpting after a bender of keg stands. His triceps flexed on their own, a testament to his relentless dedication. His quads could have doubled as life rafts, and his torso was a living mountain range, displaying a V-taper so extreme it could have been photoshopped. His face, perpetually adorned with a rugged five o'clock shadow, spoke of late nights and unending revelry. His bloodshot eyes glinted with the anticipation of the next party, and when he grinned—a sight to behold—his white teeth gleamed brilliantly against his tanned skin, an impressive display of someone who’s lived for the sun and the fun. Dumb chuckles bubbled up from within as the football game continued to rage on, the absurdity of the situation only fueling your laughter. You flexed your massive biceps involuntarily, your abs rippling as you shifted on the couch, while your bro did the same, his massive shoulders rolling with every motion. You leaned back into the couch, the heat of the moment blending with the heat radiating from your muscular frames. The game played on, but all you and your bro could do was laugh, marveling at the incredible absurdity of it all.

With a roar of glee, you raise your fist high in the air, colliding with your boyfriend's in a resounding smack that echoes through your aparment "That's right, suck it!" you cheer as the Jets score another touchdown. The entire room quakes from the force of your exuberant high five.

All around you, the once spotless apartment descends into utter chaos - empty beer bottles topple off the shelves, porno magazine covers fly everywhere, pizza boxes accordion out in every direction as the floor shifts underfoot. The pristine couch creaks ominously as it's subjected to a relentless pounding from your giant new bodies. Duct tape peels off the walls, clothes tear as muscles bulge obscenely. The pungent aroma of collegeboy sweat mingles with Axe and Doritos and beer.

A sudden buzz reverberates through your enhanced hearing - your phone. Fishing the device out of the gym bag that used to be your backpack, you swipe open the text message from Misty. She sends a photo accompanied by the simple caption: "miss u 2nite ;)" You show the picture to your brother-in-arms, grinning widely as you bring the screen closer to his face. "Does she have like, a sister or something?" He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, glancing back down at the image. "Bro! That would be sick!"

You let out a snort of laughter as memories of your wildest one-night stand with Misty flash through your mind. That night still haunts you in the best way - the taste of her sweet cherry lipstick smeared across your face, the sounds of her whorish moans filling your ears as you pounded into her tight little holes, the feeling of her nails raking down your back leaving red welts in their wake. She rode your cock like she was possessed, bouncing on it wildly until she threw her head back with a silent scream, tits swinging as you bottomed out inside her over and over again until you both collapsed into a sweaty heap. "Bro…" you say lowly, voice rough with lust, "you gotta see this chick."

Before your bro can respond, a primal hunger rises up inside you as you imagine sinking your teeth into Misty's soft neck while she screams in ecstasy. Your dick immediately begins stirring to life in your tiny gym shorts, straining painfully against the fabric. Adjusting yourself with one massive hand, you give yourself a firm squeeze and groan at the pressure building inside. "God damn…just thinking about fucking that slutty little bitch turns me on," you mutter, rubbing the bulge in your shorts as your brother chuckles beside you.

Memories flood your mind of days as the most notorious frat boys on campus brings back a flood of memories - late nights filled with cheap beer, stale pizza, and even cheaper women willing to spread their legs for a few dollars and a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon. You and your bro-in-arms were the epitome of frat house antics, constantly scheming up new ways to get girls drunk on Natty Light and show them a good time.

Whether it was streaking through the quad at midnight, attempting to "flash" the girls walking by, or having a keg stand contest in the dining hall that ended with your bro launching a full Red Cup straight at the RA's head, there was no stunt too wild or stupid for the two of you. The campus police were always on your tail, but you were always three steps ahead. By day you were up to no good, pranking dorm mates and setting off alarms. By night, you were the kings of the party scene, ruling over the dance floor like alpha males. Girls wanted to be seen with you and your bro, even if they didn't always stick around for breakfast.

[thewatcher727]

Writing Tip: How To Make A Scene Immersive

More writing tips

Immersion is all about making the story attractive, really painting the picture of what’s going on. Rather than just explaining this, I’m going to use some samples. Below, you'll see a scene from my friend’s story when she sent it to me for advice, and what I did to enhance the scene and make it immersive. We’ll go over general descriptions and dialogue.

This is her description:

As it turned out, most of Soleanna Forest's too dense for Tails to land the Tornado. He had no choice but to land outside of the city, which means he and the others need to go on foot through the city and to the forest.

Not that they minded; after all, Soleanna's a beautiful city. Selene, Curry, Petri, and Verde were in awe of its beauty.

This is my version:

As the Tornado descended towards the majestic city of Soleanna, Tails quickly realized that the lush forest surrounding it was far too dense for a safe landing. Reluctantly, he chose to set the aircraft down just outside the city's bustling borders. The group now faced the prospect of traversing the city and venturing into the enchanting Soleanna Forest on foot.

The city's charm was undeniable, captivating each member of the group. Selene's eyes widened, her gaze dancing across the elegant architecture that blended seamlessly with nature. The sun-kissed buildings seemed to rise like golden pillars from the embrace of vibrant greenery, painting an awe-inspiring picture.

This is her character dialogue:

Amy felt her phone buzz and took it out to see a text message. She read it and smiled. "Aww, Cream wanted to check in." She then got excited as she kept reading. "And Blaze is visiting!"

"Blaze?" Selene questioned.

"She's the other princess I told you about," Sonic explained.

This made the merhog excited. "That means I'll get to see her! Awesome!"

Amy giggled as she began to send a text back. "And I just know Cream's going to love meeting your brother and friends."

This is my version:

Amy felt a gentle vibration in her pocket, drawing her attention to her phone. Retrieving it, she discovered a text message waiting for her. A smile instantly graced her lips as she read the words, "Aww, Cream wanted to check in." The warmth of the message seemed to embrace her like a cozy blanket.

Her excitement only grew as she continued to read the text, discovering that Blaze, the other princess she had spoken about earlier, was planning a visit. This unexpected news sent a spark of delight through her, akin to discovering a hidden treasure in a vast ocean.

Curiosity piqued, Selene couldn't help but inquire, "Blaze?"

With a confident air, Sonic stepped in to provide the explanation. "She's the other princess I told you about." His words held the hint of pride, as if Blaze's presence was a testament to the grand adventures they had shared.

The revelation filled Selene with a heightened sense of anticipation, like a mermaid who had caught sight of a legendary sea creature she had always dreamt of encountering. "That means I'll get to see her! Awesome!"

Amy's laughter bubbled like a brook as she began composing a reply to the messages. Her fingers danced across the screen like graceful butterflies as she typed her response, a melody of words crafted with care and affection. "And I just know Cream's going to love meeting your brother and friends." Her words were like a gentle breeze, carrying a promise of new friendships and joyful moments to come.

So, there are a few things I did here for you to follow:

Show, don't tell. This is a very important rule of writing. If you just state that Soleanna is a beautiful city, you've told us, but not really shown us. Sounds confusing, I know; I used to have trouble wrapping my head around this. But see how I gave descriptions of the architecture and surroundings, along with the characters' reactions? I showed how Soleanna looks beautiful without actually having to say it was.

Reactions of the characters. There are a lot of times in writing when someone's facial reactions can speak more than dialogue. By giving specific character reactions to the city's beauty, such as Selene's widened eyes, you give a good idea of why Soleanna is so amazing.

Atmosphere. See how I used words like "majestic," "bustling borders," and "enchanting forest"? These are the types of words that make the story more engaging.

Vivid Descriptions. See how I replaced descriptions like "too dense" with "lush forest surrounding it was far too dense"? By doing so, I provided a full mental image of the challenging landing situation.

Emotions. See how I expanded on Amy texting Cream? "Her fingers danced across the screen like graceful butterflies as she typed her response, a melody of words crafted with care and affection." I infused the text messages with emotions so we know how Amy is feeling.

[togrowoldinv]

A Soft Place to Rest

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You always nap with your head on Natasha’s shoulder or lap, but when will your feelings for each other finally come to light?

Note: Soft Nat as promised! Enjoy this one!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

Natasha smiles when she feels your head fall onto her shoulder. You’re fast asleep as the quinjet continues to soar through the sky.

“I have no idea how she sleeps like that,” Wanda says, chuckling.

“Me either,” Nat replies. “But I’m not complaining.”

You have a tendency to take a nap anytime you can. Often times, that’s right after a mission. And Natasha’s shoulders or lap are always your favorite places to rest your head.

The woman admittedly loves the way you lean on her, but she tries not to let herself believe it means anything. She doesn’t know what it means to you.

The aircraft lands and Natasha stays put. You haven’t woken up yet.

“Y/n,” she says softly after a few minutes.

You open your eyes slowly but don’t lift your head off of her shoulder. You actually bury your face further into her.

“Are we home?” You ask.

“Yeah,” Nat answers. “We have to go debrief.”

“I’d rather just sleep.”

“I know,” Nat says. “Maybe it’ll be quick.”

You sigh and stand up together. You walk side by side into the common room of the compound. At least the team wanted to debrief on the comfortable furniture.

Natasha sits on the couch and you follow in suit. You still feel sleepy as Steve begins to talk.

At some point, you lay down on the couch with your head in Natasha’s lap. Her hands absentmindedly run through your hair as you close your eyes. The mission wasn’t that important anyways. You drift off to sleep.

“Natasha, did she get any of that before she was out?” Steve asks once the meeting is over.

“I’ll fill her in,” Nat assures him.

“You should probably also tell her how you feel about her,” Steve says.

Nat raises a brow at the man. He just shrugs.

“Don’t wait too long is all I’m saying,” Steve says. And with that, you and Nat are the only people left in the room.

She carefully maneuvers a pillow under your head and slips out from under you. She needs to think.

You awake a few hours later and go looking for Nat. Not to your surprise, you find her in the training room.

“Hey,” you greet her. “Thank you for two cozy naps today.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” Nat shrugs. You turn around to walk out, but she calls after you. “Y/n, wait.”

“What’s up?” You ask.

You’re back close to her quickly. You can see her chest move quickly. She’s nervous.

“I just- I wanted to tell you something,” Nat begins. You nod to encourage her to continue. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes go wide at her words. You’ve always liked Nat and felt so safe around her, but you never imagined she’d like you back.

“Really?” You ask her.

“I do. I feel it so much and I was trying to keep it inside me but I can feel it when I’m trying to breathe,” Natasha says.

“I love you too,” you say.

“Really?” She asks, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, why do you think I always take a nap on you?” You joke.

“I do enjoy those,” Nat replies. She takes your face in her hands. Her thumbs brush over your cheeks. “I think I’ll enjoy this more though.”

Natasha leans in and kisses you softly. Her perfect lips feel like heaven. You kiss her back until neither of you can breathe.

“So do you want to go take a nap?” You ask Nat.

She chuckles and takes your hand. You’re finally together and it feels so good.

[laracrofted]

i want your midnights

synopsis: on the coldest new year's eve in a decade, bob floyd shows up at your door. prequel to delicate.

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bob is really soft and cozy and lovestruck, swearing (barely), so much yearning and pining, kissing kissing kissing (wc: 2.2K)

note: surprise! i wasn't planning to write something for new year's, but i missed lovestruck bob. happy new year, loves! 🍾

summoning a few people who might be interested: @sometimesanalice @roosterbruiser @theharddeck @callsignspark @lewmagoo @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @rhettabbotts

He shouldn't be here right now. For several reasons. 

Technically, Bob should be on a plane right now – or on one of several planes because San Diego International doesn't offer any direct flights to the part of Montana Bob is from

He usually flies from San Diego to Los Angeles and Los Angeles to Bozeman and drives from there.

Except when half of California freezes over in the coldest storm in a decade on the very day Bob is supposed to head home for New Year's and grounds all of LAX.

This normally wouldn't be a big deal. He doesn't even care all that much about New Year's – New Year's is celebrated very casually in his family. He's usually in bed well before midnight. – but Bob already missed Christmas. 

He and Phoenix were selected for a special detachment at the end of December, which – while an honor and a privilege, etcetera – meant Bob spent Christmas on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific. He didn't get back until December 28.

Phoenix immediately drove up to San Francisco to be with her nieces and nephews. He'd been waiting for New Year's. 

Now, after countless delays and an eventual cancellation – which should've happened hours ago when Bob maybe could've found another way home, rented a car and driven the seventeen hours – Bob is stuck in San Diego.

Disappointed isn't a good enough word to express what Bob is feeling right now. 

He could've driven back to his apartment – his sad apartment, already devoid of colorful lights and silver and gold decorations because Bob didn't expect to come back until January. He could've called Fanboy or gone to the New Year's Eve party at the Hard Deck, but Bob isn't in the mood to be around people right now. 

He only wants to see one person. 

And now Bob is here – standing outside of your apartment with a backpack and a carry-on, like Bob is about to clear out a drawer and move right in. 

He probably looks like a weirdo. He definitely feels like a weirdo. 

Damn. This was a mistake. 

It's a brisk 40 degrees and dropping outside, and Coronado smells like ocean air and fireplace smoke. Pine needles, shed from the withering evergreens hauled onto the streets and abandoned the day after Christmas. Seawater and camphor and burning wood.

He shivers in the cold, broad shoulders rounding under the worn wool of his sweater. He should've worn something warmer – something nicer – but all of Bob's warmer coats are either deep in his suitcase or at his parents' house. He never expected to need them in San Diego.

A shaky puff of breath blows from his quivering lips. 

He breathes in a deep and steadying breath. A bracing breath. And knocks on the door. 

Minutes pass. Or maybe, just seconds.

Finally, Bob hears a voice from inside. Blessedly.

"Just a minute!" 

Your calm voice is like a soothing balm, even muffled, even barely audible, and Bob feels like a loosed bowstring – held taut for hours on end and at the sound of your voice, finally let free. He can drop his shoulders and loosen his clenched jaw for the first time in the past day – in the past week.

Tension melts off of him like the last snow of late spring from the Montana pines. He can finally relax. He can breathe again.

A crack of light spills out of the creaking door, and Bob pulls his gaze from his scuffed brown Blundstones. 

You are silhouetted in the doorway like a priceless Renaissance sculpture, glowing, curves highlighted and illuminated in the most beautiful dress Bob has ever seen.

Black satin, catching in the dim light and glimmering, like a blanket of stars on a cloudless December night.

He used to lay under stars like those in Montana and memorize the constellations. He feels the same sense of wonder, of awe looking at you.

He's always found you beautiful – even dressed in your coveralls with grease smudged on your cheeks, sometimes especially then – but now, fuck.

He's never seen your hair like that before, loose around your shoulders, curled like the ends of a ribbon on a beautifully wrapped present on Christmas morning. He shoves his hands in his pockets, slightly chapped and reddened from the dry cold, and pinches the denim between his palms, squashing the urge to reach out and wrap one of the delicate strands of hair around his finger.

A deep shade of red paints your lips, parting in a surprised smile. "Bob Floyd, is that you?" You shiver and hug your arms, and Bob, respectfully, keeps his eyes on your face. "Jesus Christ, when did it get so cold out here? Aren't you cold?" 

"I, uh... run warm, I guess," Bob says. He lifts his baseball cap and runs his fingers through the mess of strands underneath, in desperate need of a trim. Sets it back on his head and squares his shoulders. "Are you headed out?" 

You look down and absentmindedly shuffle your feet to look down at your heels – which reveals a slit in the fabric, exposing a line of bare skin all the way up to your thigh. God help him. 

"Kind of. I'm supposed to meet up with some of the other mechanics at the Hard Deck. There’s some New Year’s thing there, I guess.” You fold your arms across your chest and look at him, still smiling curiously. “But what about you? What brings you here on New Year's Eve?" 

He showed up out of the blue. Anyone else might be annoyed, but all Bob hears in your voice is gentle curiosity. Like Bob is the most pleasant of surprises. 

"I spent 12 hours in the airport, only for my flight to get canceled, and I couldn't go back to my apartment after that and spend New Year's alone, but I couldn't go to the Hard Deck either. I'm sorry," Bob adds. "I shouldn't have shown up here like this. I should've called you. You have plans."

You regard him, expression calm. "Don't be sorry. I'm happy to see you."

You're happy to see him. You're happy to see him.

Is it cold enough for the pink in his cheeks to be mistaken for a different kind of flush? He hopes so.

"Do you wanna come in?"

His eyes grow wide. "Oh... well, what about your party?"

You drop your shoulder in a shrug. "New Year's is kind of lame anyway. I was really going as an excuse to get dressed up because I never go anywhere fancy enough to wear this dress. It's been in the back of my closet for months."

His eyes drop to the dress again, and absently, Bob wonders what the material would feel like between his fingers, what it'd feel like to run his hand over the elegant slope of your hip. He swallows.

"It's quite a dress," Bob croaks. His mouth is so damn dry. "You, uh... You look really beautiful. It's really... yeah."

You watch him, expression softening like warmed butter. "Thank you, Bob."

You look at him – look past the backpack and the scuffed carry-on and the slightly baggy sweater that once belonged to his older brother – and Bob feels seen, really seen. He feels safe.

You bump the door open wider with your hip and reach for his luggage, wiggling your fingers playfully until Bob passes the suitcase over. He's rewarded with a beaming smile, radiant and warm.

"Come on. You like Chinese?"

You change after Bob comes in, hanging up your dress and putting on an oversized gray sweater, pushed up at the sleeves, and a pair of fleece pajama pants that aren't quite the right length for your legs, covered in white dots and blue and white snowflakes.

You order the food and put on your favorite New Year's Eve movie while Bob calls his parents and gets comfortable, changing into sweatpants. His mom is pleased that Bob isn't spending New Year's alone, but Bob chooses his words carefully.

He is spending New Year's with a friend, not with a girl.

She'd ask questions Bob couldn't really answer in your hall bathroom.

When Bob comes back in, When Harry Met Sally is on.

You explain: "It's my favorite New Year's Eve movie. I watch it almost every year. If I start watching it 28 seconds after 10:30 PM – exactly, like down to the second – I can count down to midnight while Harry is confessing his love to Sally in the New Year’s scene."

You curl up on the couch, nursing a glass of champagne, while Bob sips from a chilled can of Ginger Ale while Harry and Sally banter and dance around each other and fall in love.

Admittedly, Bob is only half watching.

He likes this movie, but Bob is much more interested in you.

He is rarely alone with you.

He usually comes to see you on the Naval base – sometimes even making up questions as an excuse to come and talk to you, bringing coffee as a thank you for your answers – or seeks you out at the Hard Deck. He drove you home once when Bob was working late and spotted you in one of the hangars, but otherwise, Bob has never been here before.

About 30 minutes into the movie, Bob gets overheated and sheds his sweater, leaving him in a white short-sleeve and sweatpants underneath the oversized blanket from your bedroom. It's made of some kind of sherpa and smells like you.

Everything in here smells like you.

His legs are sprawled out in front of him, resting on the coffee table between a half-eaten plate of spring rolls and what’s left of his chicken chow mein. He ate his body weight in noodles and miso soup, and Bob feels warm and relaxed – if bordering on uncomfortably full.

He can barely focus with the smell of your perfume in his nostrils; excruciatingly aware of you underneath the blanket next to him, curled up with your legs folded underneath yourself, head lolling to the side, dangerously close to resting on his shoulder; smelling like cherries and champagne and vanilla and you.

A countdown begins in the background of the scene.

“Five…”

You sit up underneath the blanket, which brings you closer to him, inadvertently.

“Four…” 

Your arm brushes against Bob’s.

“Three…”

You watch the screen, excited, and count along.

“Two…” 

Your lips part in a wide and excited smile.

“One…” 

Cheers erupt on the screen, but Bob isn’t even pretending to watch the movie anymore. He’s watching you. 

You grin at him, eyes bright, looking so beautiful that Bob can’t hold the words in.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Surprise flashes across your face, soon replaced with a small smile. Bob can see a lipstick stain at the corner of your mouth from where earlier, you'd messily wiped the red from your lips with a cocktail napkin. He wants to reach out and smooth it away with the pad of his thumb. He wants to kiss the spot where the smudge used to be.

Instead, Bob holds his breath. Waits.

He shouldn't have said anything. You've been such a good friend to him. You changed your plans, invited him in.

What if Bob's ruined everything now?

You've never been so close. You ask, "Like a New Year's kiss? Or like a real kiss?"

What if Bob hasn't ruined anything at all?

“Both,” Bob says softly, like a confession.

What if?

You're glowing in the sparkle of multi-colored lights, still strung along the walls, still decorating the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, blues and reds and greens, eyes glimmering, liquid warm. "Yeah. That'd be okay."

"Okay," Bob echoes, leaning in.

He presses his lips against yours in a gentle but firm kiss, cradling your jaw with a careful hand, stroking your cheek.

Bob doesn't linger. Doesn't press his luck.

He gives you a good and solid kiss and pulls back, eyes slowly opening.

"How was that?"

You lick your lips, and Bob follows the movement with his gaze, entranced.

"Kiss me again."

It's after midnight now, and uncertain, Bob asks, "Like a New Year's kiss?"

You shake your head, slow and clear, and lean in, and Bob meets you in the middle.

He kisses you in earnest now, kissing the smudge of red on the corner of your mouth, licking a drop of champagne from your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, running his hands over your skin.

You do the same, running your hands over his shoulders, over his neck, and knocking his baseball hat from his head, run your fingers through his hair. You pull on the ends of the strands, pull him closer, and god, it's all Bob can do not to moan into your mouth.

You're all warm skin and soft curves and sweet perfume, and Bob is drowning drowning drowning.

You knock the wind out of him, and eventually, Bob is forced to pull back and catch his breath. His chest is heaving. His cheeks are pink and warm.

You blink up at him, eyes wide and glassy, as if pulled from a dream, and give him a dazed smile. You murmur, low and breathless, "Happy New Year, Bob."

I think I'm in love with you.

"Happy New Year," Bob whispers instead.

end note: likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all!

[simp-ly-writes]

Radio Signals

Pairing: Stardew Valley Harvey x Reader

Summary: Harvey shows the reader how to operate his aircraft radio to end up having a heart to heart moment with one another.

Warnings: I don't know much about how radio systems work.

A/N: inspired by the Eight Hearts Event.

Masterlist | Taglist | un-edited.

Imagine… you and Harvey were well on your way to getting to know one another, between date nights at the Saloon to Movies on the weekends and dinners throughout the weekdays. It was easy to see you both were passionate about one another. And you both were invested in each others passions.

One afternoon, while the clinic is slow. Harvey invites you into his apartment and gives you a more in-depth tour of the place. From every individual model plane to every jazz record he owns. You feel yourself falling deeper in love with this mans adorable rambling.

As you get lost, listening to him talk and admiring how his eyes crinkle every time he smiles at the objects around the apartment and glances your way, you soon feel him gently grabbing your arm allowing you to fall a little less than gracefully into his lap with a thump.

Laughing at the Doctors antics you push his glasses up for him and turn around to face the desk. There you see all sorts of wires, buttons flashing a gradient of colours and a few large books settled with coffee mugs on-top.

Harvey picks up a headset and places it over his ears, and then doing his own after. He then presses a multitude of switches and buttons with memorized precision as you watch his long fingers work themselves across the desk.

You shuffle a little bit in his lap, trying to get more comfortable to only receive a small grunt in return. Harvey then begins to explain how the radio machine works, you can hear the slight roughness in his voice coming through the headset as you do your best to focus on his lecture.

--

A few moments go by with more than a few kisses shared between the two of you, cozied in the plush office chair. Lost in your own little world, it takes the both of you a second to realize that someone through the radio was trying to contact you!

Upon hearing this Harvey bursts into action, with you almost falling off his lap, latching onto his core frame in an effort to steady yourself from his harsh movements.

Harvey eventually clears up the signal and has a conversation with the pilot. Looking giddy as ever, his smile lines are out in full force as his chest rises slightly with pride. You had never seen him in such a state before and could not help but look up at his face in awe.

--

Harveys conversation with the pilot comes to an end as they go out of range. Still smiling widely, he bursts out laughing gleefully as he stands up and swirls your frame around his in a hug.

You wrap your legs around his core once more as he walks you both other to his couch. Giving you a kiss once you both are seated. Still lost in the moment, Harvey looks towards the ceiling, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

You begin to grow concerned when he refuses to look your way, wondering what you did wrong. You take his face into his hands and start to rub circles on his cheeks in an effort to console your loved one.

With slight tears in his eyes he begins to explain his past dreams of becoming a pilot himself, and that this situation for better, and for worse made him remember everything that got him to this point. Though he makes a point to prove, placing his hands over yours that he is forever grateful that you ended up in his life to make everything up until now worth it.

Not knowing what to say, you kiss the man softly, tears forming in your own eyes at the pure kindness this man radiates from his soul. You remind Harvey on that couch that he is your forever too.

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

delicate (jake seresin pt. 10/12)

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: A bit of self-body shaming

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

“You were all I’d ever asked for, you know that right?” your words cut through the air, rage rising in your lungs at him.

“I fucked things up okay?” Jake’s jaw clenched as he closes his eyes and takes a heavy deep breath. “I want to make things up to you. Please,” he reaches forward, clutching your hand in one of his as he pulls your fingertips to his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, warming you up all cozy as you take slow and deep breaths. The rage inside of you from your insecurity and Jake leaving starts to simmer from his closeness and your brain goes dizzy.

“Jake, I don’t know,” you shake your head, watching as he puts your flowers down and grabs your other hand. His hold is gentle, the space between the two of you intimate as he leans into your space. One hand rises above your head, taking your breath away as his sparkling green eyes are holding your gaze with such an intensity.

“Let’s take things slow here, okay?” your breath fans over his face from the closeness of your face. “I want to trust you, but I need time.” Your answer is honest, and it sends a rubble of nerves through your stomach. There’s a bubbling in your chest of an ache to want to be close with him but your mind takes over and your palms flatten out on his shoulders to slowly peel him off you.

There’s a misting in his eyes and his bottom lip quivers a bit, but he nods wholeheartedly and steps away from you. He clears his throat and collects the flowers again, holding them out for you. “These are beautiful,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours as you move into the bright white kitchen. You reach up to grab a vase from a top shelf, your dress rising enough that Jake gets an eyeful of the soft flesh of your supple thighs.

He holds back the groan that wants to escape him, instead finding a pair of scissors to trim the stems while you fill the vase with water. Jake’s hands are cautious as they trim each stem, dropping them onto the countertop in a neat pile before he tosses them into the water and fluffs the bouquet out. You watch him with a dazed glow, fist coming up to rest your chin on as he discards the excess.

“Where did you learn to finesse a bouquet?” you ask, surprised by the tender nature of his flower handling.

“Mom never went a week without fresh flowers from the Farmer’s Market,” Jake’s accent twangs slightly as he took in your heavy gaze. Before you have a chance to reply, someone clears their throat in the doorway. You both turn, jumping at the new person joining the kitchen.

“I’ve been sent in to break up the tension and let you know that the food is ready,” Rooster’s standing with his hands clenched in front of him, his shoulders tense as he tries to look anywhere but the two of you. “Are you…you aren’t going to kill each other, are you?”

His statement makes you giggle as you roll your eyes and cross your arms, feeling self-conscious. “No Rooster,” you say as you turn to look at Jake, smiling slightly. “Not killing each other.” You make your way out through the slider doors, leaving the men behind you as you step out into the warmth of the Californian sun. There’s a beautiful breeze as you settle into the backyard, joining Nat and Gemini at the patio table who slide you a plate.

They take turns telling stories of life on the aircraft carrier, the tight quarters and bunks that they had to share. “God, Javy has the worst gas,” Mickey cracks, his pearly whites gleaming as he lets out a loud laugh. Javy, not even the slightest bit ashamed, began to laugh along with him.

“That is so gross guys,” Gemini scrunches her nose, leaning into Bob as she wipes her hands on a napkin and tosses it onto the table. “I’m so lucky to bunk with the ladies, we atleast try to keep it silent.”

“Silent but deadly,” Nat cracks with a wiggle of her eyebrows and the group erupts in laughter again. You take your final bite of some pasta salad before leaning back against your patio chair. Jake notices your relaxed state, wishing so desperately that he could tug you onto his lap. But instead, he leans over and nods to your plate.

“All done?” his voice is low as he reaches forward, offering to grab your plate.

“Thank you,” you flush, nodding as you hold your plate out for him. He takes it, striding over to the trash to toss it out before heading to the cooler. You watch his movements, slower than usual, gentle in how he lifts the lid. The scabs of his cuts are illuminated from the patio light, turned on for the dimming sunlight and it’s then that you remember his words. I almost died during an exercise and the first person I saw when I was going down was you.

The comment brought a whole wave of fear through you, a terror of something having happened to Jake before the two of you got to talk through everything. Even after Jake’s birthday, you were unsure of what you would hope for in the future state of your relationship, but you surely didn’t want him to die before you figured it out. You zoned out, watching as his arms flexed in pulling two beers from the cooler and closing the lid again.         

Jake’s eyes connect with yours as he turns back to the group, tilting to the side as he notices you staring. You blink once, then twice as he approaches and goes to hand you one of the beers. “Shit, hold on,” he objects, pulling back and tucking his own bottle between his legs. He wipes the bottle he was planning to hand to you, the dripping water from the melting ice onto his shirt before finally handing it to you.

“Thank you.” You turn back to the group, noticing Nat and Penny watching you slowly with a ghost of a smile on their faces. You tuck your chin into your chest, picking at the label of the Blue Moon until enough time passes that you feel like they are no longer looking. Everyone disperses after dinner, a few people finding their way to the cornhole boards while Mav and Penny disappear into the house together like giggling teenagers.

Bob and Gemini sat setting up the small pit fire, perfectly leaning the logs against each other as if they’d been camping together for ages. Perhaps they had. You wondered how they maintained a healthy and quiet relationship, just for them. They seemed so free of insecurities, of hiccups as they curled up together and kissed every now and then between crumbling up some twigs for the starter.

“You doing okay?” Nat’s voice echoes behind you as you turn, hands shaking slightly as you catch her stare at you for the third time that day. “You’ve been quiet since we left you guys in the kitchen earlier this evening.”

You pull some of your hair off your shoulders, taking in her words. “I’m not sure.”

“Did he apologize?”

“Yeah,” you share, a loud giggle bursting through your chest. You take a peak behind her, taking in Jake’s wide smile and the crow’s feet at his temples from beneath his ray bans. He’s chatting aimlessly with Rooster, deep in conversation and ignorant to your stares. “So many apologies that I don’t know what to do now.”

“What do you want to do?” Nat slides down beside you in the grass, leaning back to watch you. She gives nothing away in her gaze, no opinions or judgement. This is what you loved about Nat, her relentless ability to intimidate and love in such a fierce manner.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” you hold your breath, letting it sit in your throat at the contemplation of what came next for you and Jake. When you finally let it out, your head thumps back against the plastic of the chair. “I don’t have any fucking idea. Before today, I was so furious with him that I couldn’t consider myself ever getting that vulnerable again.”

“And now you’re wondering how after one conversation with the man, you’re falling deep and fast back into wanting to be around him at every moment’s notice?”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience Phoenix,” you joke, deliberating nodding to Aries who is helping clean off the table and bringing out the pitcher of sangria that she’d made with Penny. “I’m pathetic.”

Nat’s hand comes up to clutch your shoulder, squeezing it tightly. She takes in the way your forehead puckers and how you begin to chew on your bottom lip. “You’re not pathetic,” she shakes her head. “You’re falling in love with Bagman and that’s okay.”

“That’s not,”

“It’s totally true,” she crosses her ankles, staring directly at you without blinking. “It’s disgusting because it’s Bagman but he’s not Bagman with you. Other than he’s severe lapse of judgement in leaving that morning, he’s been a shocking delight when it comes to you. To us, he’s always been this cocky SOB but he’s always been Jake to you. This kind, sweet and gentle giant from the South. You’ve had his heart from the moment you came to work at the Hard Deck.”

You don’t even realize tears are streaming down your face until she reaches up to brush her thumb below your lashes. You sniffle as a sweet and radiant smile finding it’s way onto your face.

“And you know that I would not be vouching for the man if I didn’t think he was redeemable.” The statement causes you to belly laugh, snorting at how serious she looks.

“I know,” you glance over at him again, only this time, he’s staring back at you. You twinkle against the glow of the fire and Jake finds himself falling even deeper in love with you. Penny calls for everyone to come grab a slice of cake in celebration of your success. You shovel down the delicious raspberry and chocolate slice of cake she’d bought just for the occasion before returning to circle around the crackling fire.

Curling up in your chair, Mav talks through his wild adventures when he was your age and shares about how he and Penny met for the first time. “You took her for a fly by?” you squeal, leaning up to look at your aunt in disbelief. “You are so bad.” You slap her leg and giggle, the slightest wave of a buzz starting to settle into your bones.

One by one, the group began to dissipate as Penny handed out supplies for smores. As the beer began to simmer in, a lightness washed over you. Your fingers were starting to get slightly sticky from a marshmallow that you’d tried to catch, and midnight crept around when the fire began to smother. “I think it’s time we call it folks,” Mav announces, rising with his arms wrapped around a tipsy Penny.

You nod, sluggishly and rise to your feet to set in. You’d have to leave your car until tomorrow and walk home for the night. You blink slowly with a lazy smile, turning to look at Jake. He looks so fluffy, so cozy in his hoodie and when he glances at you, his gaze softens in confusion. You reach forward without hesitation, sliding your hands over his slender waist and settle your cheek against him as you snuggle close.

He freezes, unsure of what to do. He’d been waiting for the day that he could have you back in his arms but hadn’t expected the day to be today. It takes only seconds before he’s wrapping you up in his embrace, large palms rubbing up and down your back. You sigh contently and close your eyes.

“Can you walk me home?” your voice is mumbled against the plush material of his blue hoodie, but he hears it. You sound so innocent, so vulnerable as you clutch at the hem.

“Anything for you Sunshine.”

Taglist:

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@rachkon

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@ceilingfann

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@rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Unusual and beautiful barn redo in Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire UK has exposed brick walls, rough-hewn reclaimed wood and some steel to become an industrial treasure trove.

Walk across the small footbridge to enter the upper level and the modern rustic kitchen. Isn’t this a cozy part of the barn?

Through combination window/skylights in the low roof, you can see the garden from the kitchen table.

I love how the blue floor makes it pop. Next to the old chimney you can see the stairs leading to the main floor.

Industrial salvage metal stairs come down a vintage brick wall to the main floor living room. 

In the modern living room, an art piece fireplace takes center stage in front of a large paned window.

Beautiful beamed ceiling and brick wall in the main bd. Glass floor-to-ceiling windows and doors to the garden let in light and give the impression of being outdoors.

A big copper tub is at the foot of the bed and in front of the windows.

This room truly looks like an old barn, yet it’s so cozy and modern.

Down a hall lit by gorgeous copper industrial lamps, is a vintage water closet.

Smaller 2nd bd. has a brick feature wall and window that lets in lots of natural light.

3rd bedroom is just as lovely. 

Then come 2 children’s bedrooms in brighter style, like this one with twin beds.

And, this very cool room with an aircraft theme. 

A small outbuilding w/a sitting room gives access to the yard, as well as shelter from the elements.

Beautifully redone property.

https://www.desiretoinspire.net/2023/04/13/a-rustic-barn-in-oxfordshire/

[rascal-xo]

Somebody That You Used to Know - Alex (Echo 3-1) Keller x Female Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: It’s been 5 years since you’ve seen Alex, and a dangerous mission in Urzikstan is just the thing to bring you back together…

Warnings: Violence, Language, fluff, Friends to Lovers type beat

Tags: @pukbadger @fiveshelmet @myguiltypleasures21 @madamemelaninn @emmaadlerrichtofen1 @swissy23 @thatchickwiththecamera @glitterypirateduck

A/N: I love writing action fics, its truly an obsession. Alex is so fine i cannot even deal omfg - enjoy :))

You walk into the small briefing room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The room is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a large screen displaying a map of the Al Qatala stronghold. The Captain and Gaz are already present, sitting around.

Laswell stands at the head of the small room, her gaze focused. She acknowledges your arrival with a nod before turning her attention back to the map. The atmosphere is tense, an undercurrent of urgency lingering in the air.

"Alright, listen up," Laswell begins, her voice firm yet calm. "Al Qatala and their recent attacks here in Urzikstan have left not only a trail of disaster but also of Russian footprints."

"Bloody hell." Gaz mutters.

"Russians?" You interject. "Can't be missiles again, those would've been on our radar."

Agent Laswell glances at you, a hint of knowing in her eyes. "We believe the Russians are involved in a more covert operation, possibly aiding Al Qatala with weapons, training, or intelligence."

Captain Price leans forward, his voice low and resolute. "The last thing we need is them getting cozy."

Laswell nods, her expression grim. "Exactly. Our mission is two-fold. We need to cripple Al Qatala's stronghold and gather any evidence of Russian involvement. We have an opportunity to disrupt this unholy alliance and dismantle their operations."

You glance at the map on the screen, "Do we have any intel on the main compound layout? Possible weak points?"

Laswell taps a few keys, bringing up a satellite image of the compound. "We've managed to obtain some blueprints of an HQ type facility, but keep in mind they might have made changes to the structure. Expect the unexpected."

Captain Price leans back in his chair, a calculating look on his face.

Gaz raises an eyebrow. "Who's going in?"

A steely resolve glimmers in Laswell's eyes as she answers, "Y/N, you'll be our point of entry. Captain Price and Gaz will join you once you've secured a foothold inside."

You meet the Captain’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

"You'll be meeting with an American Agent before the mission tomorrow morning, he'll be on the mission with you. Good luck."

"American huh?" Gaz says, turning to you. "Think you know him?"

"Doubt it." You exhale, leaning back in your seat.

The next morning dawns with an air of anticipation and determination. You stand in the armory, surrounded by shelves of equipment and gear.

You slip on your tactical vest over your layered shirt, adjusting the straps for a snug fit. The familiar weight settles against your chest.

You fasten the pouches on your belt, carefully arranging your ammunition, grenades, and other essential tools. Each item has its place, a delicate balance of readiness and accessibility.

After you’ve gotten yourself situated, you meet Gaz and the Captain on the tarmac to wait for the plane into Sakhra.

“Mornin boys.” You nod, leaning against a crate waiting to be loaded into the aircraft.

“Well someone’s chipper this morning.” Gaz teases, pulling his flag embroidered hat on.

“Yeah chipper to get this shit over with.“ You chuckle, shaking your head.

Price glances at both of you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That's the spirit, lads.” Sarcasm coating his tone.

"Hope i’m not too late." A voice suddenly says from behind you, causing you to turn your head in surprise. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes lock with a familiar gaze.

"Alex?" You utter his name, a mixture of shock and disbelief coloring your voice. It has been five long years since you last saw him, “You’re the other agent?”

“Right on time, Agent.” Price nods, shaking his hand, followed by Gaz.

"Well, you've certainly changed," Alex says, turning to face you. Your gaze lingers on his face, noticing the subtle lines etched near his eyes, evidence of the experiences he has endured over the years.

His once boyish features have given way to a more hardened and mature visage.

Gaz, observing the exchange, interjects. "You two know each other?"

You tear your eyes away from Alex to meet Gaz’s questioning expression. "We served together in the MARSOC years back.” You explain, slinging your riffle over your shoulder.

Captain Price interrupts the silence, breaking the reunion. "We have limited time, and the mission takes precedence. Alex, I trust you're ready to brief us on your findings."

Alex nods, his focus shifting back to the present. "I've gathered substantial intel on Al Qatala's operations over the past year, their chain of command, and possible connections with other organizations.” He continues, “We have a high chance to deal a significant blow to their infrastructure and reveal the extent of their influence."

“I like those chances, mate.” Gaz replies, speaking for the whole team.

“Well then, let’s get this show on the road shall we?” The captain heads into the aircraft, followed by the rest of you.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N.” Alex says, nudging you slightly as you smile back, taking your seat.

When you arrive landside to the outskirts of the compound, you all split up to your respective positions. You and Alex take the entry while Price and Gaz take the perimeter.

“I’ll cover you.” Alex says, as you both stay hidden a good distance from the front gates. Two guards take watch, Al Qatala security forces.

“Moving in.” You say, aiming your crosshairs on the first guard.

With practiced precision, you squeeze the trigger, the suppressed shot echoing softly through the air. The guard drops, a lifeless silhouette on the ground.

Without missing a beat, Alex shifts his focus to the second guard, his weapon trained on the target. You provide cover, scanning the surroundings for any sign of reinforcement. As Alex takes the shot, the second guard crumples to the ground, leaving the area silent once more.

You and Alex approach the now vacant gate, keeping low to avoid detection. “Let’s move.” You motion towards the gates, quickly picking the locks and moving into the compound.

Inside the compound, the darkness acts as your ally, concealing your movements and intentions. “I know Laswell said to expect the unexpected but I didn’t expect this place to be empty.” You remark, switching to your sidearm.

"Wouldn't get too comfortable," Alex replies, his voice low and cautious as he clears the stairs. You follow suit, ascending silently, your senses heightened.

The absence of guards and personnel within the compound raises an unsettling feeling within you. Something doesn't add up. “Delta 4 to Bravo 6, how copy?” You speak over the comms.

“Loud and clear.” Price radios back.

“Stay on standby at the perimeter, compounds vacant” You explain.

“Copy that. Staying low.” He responds back.

You both move with precision, keeping your backs to the walls, scanning each room as you make your way through the labyrinthine corridors.

The eerie silence amplifies the tension in the air, intensifying the need for caution.

As you round another corner, you catch a glimpse of a dimly lit room at the end of the hallway. The faint glow seeping through the cracked door raises your suspicion. Motioning for Alex to stay back, you inch closer, your senses on high alert.

Peering through the narrow opening, you see a group of monitors displaying security feeds from various parts of a large machine.

"They got eyes on something," you whisper, your voice laced with both concern and determination.

Alex's expression hardens as he joins you, his eyes focused on the screens. You both nod a quick agreement and let him kick open the door.

Alex's boot crashes against the door, sending it flying open with a resounding bang. But before you can fully register the impact, a sharp, searing pain erupts through your upper arm. "Fuck!" you exclaim, stumbling backward, clutching your arm.

Alex's eyes widen with alarm as he rushes to your side, concern etched across his face. “Shit, they have this place rigged.” He drops his gun, making you sit on a metal crate.

“I’m fine, Alex. We have to keep moving.” You argue, but it’s no use.

“You’re gonna bleed out. Let me handle it.” He replies, as he rips a part of his sleeve and wraps a makeshift bandage around your arm, applying pressure to stem the bleeding

You watch Alex's face intently as he focuses on your arm, his brows furrowed with a mix of concentration and concern. His movements are deliberate and steady, a testament to his training and experience in the field.

His hands work quickly, efficiently securing the fabric around your wounded arm. The pressure he applies causes a sharp pang of pain, but you grit your teeth, determined not to let it distract you. The burning sensation begins to subside, replaced by a numbing throb.

"Alex, we can't afford to stay here," you protest once more, your voice laced with urgency. The mission hangs in the balance, and every moment counts.

He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and worry. "The one back up they had already did it’s job, we can afford to spare 5 minutes.” He sternly answers, making you chuckle a bit at his concern.

“Was beginning to think you died after all these years.” You say after a few beats of silence, trying to distract yourself from the agonizing burn of pressure.

“I meant to write you know.” He explains, putting his hands up in defense. “But you know how it is, assignment after assignment.”

You nod, playing with the blood spotted hem of your right sleeve.

You nudge him playfully as he takes a seat next to you on the crate, your voice lightening. "Well, look at you, all grown up and saving the world. I guess it suits you."

A wistful smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you engage in this unexpected moment of familiarity amidst the chaos. The pain in your arm momentarily fades into the background as the weight of unspoken words hangs between you.

Alex's lips curl into a half-smile, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I went CIA and you stuck to what you know. Wish I was that smart.” He admits, turning his head to meet your gaze.

“Still winded up here. It was bound to happen Keller. You sigh, wincing at the sudden movement jolting through your arm.

The atmosphere between you and Alex shifts, an unspoken tension hanging in the air as your gazes meet. In a moment of vulnerability and longing, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips pressing against yours.

For a few precious seconds, the world fades away, and you are lost in the intensity of the moment. The touch is gentle yet filled with a deep-rooted longing that has lingered beneath the surface for years.

But just as quickly as the connection ignites, you both pull away, breathless and wide-eyed. The realization of the situation dawns upon you, a mix of surprise. “Sorry um-“

“Yeah we should get back to the...” You finish his sentence, regaining both of your composures.

With a shared understanding, you push aside the overwhelming emotions and focus on the task at hand.

A/N: If i keep writing this i’ll be writing forever loll. Let me know if y’all want a part 2. Im a sucker for action fics y’all already know 😭

[aviatrix-ash]

It's okae Skyfire, I too like to hide away and take a nap in a cozy hangar

x3 Another silly minicomic inspired by @just-jetfire/anon 's Skyfire/shuttle headcanon that suggested Cybertronians that are space shuttles may like to take naps wherever, even random hangar they find empty. As Skyfire deserves, eepy time is eepytimes. If a sleepy Skyfire were to show up I would be shoving every other aircraft out the hangar so he could recharge. :3

[realsgwife]

Gloryhole

"How many more hours until we land?" Sally asked, her voice a soft blend of boredom and hope. 

"Just three more," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom, the words echoing through the cabin. 

Her eyes flicked to the younger steward passing by, his name tag glinting in the artificial light. Kenneth. She had noticed him during the pre-flight briefing, his energy a stark contrast to the weariness that seemed to cling to the rest of the crew. 

"Would you like me to bring you anything?" Kenneth offered, pausing in his steps. 

Sally considered the offer, her eyes lingering on the tray of beverages he balanced with ease. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." 

His smile was polite, yet there was something in his eyes that made her look away, a spark of curiosity that seemed to dance around the edges of propriety. She couldn't quite place it, but it was there. 

The flight to Amsterdam dragged on, the hum of the aircraft's engines lulling the passengers into a state of forced tranquility. Sally went through the motions of her job, serving drinks and reassuring nervous flyers, all the while aware of Kenneth's glances. He was new, she had heard, a junior steward eager to make a good impression. 

After the final meal service, she found herself in the galley, her hands trembling slightly as she washed the last of the dishes. Kenneth appeared beside her, his youthful face a stark contrast to her own reflection in the stainless steel. 

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. 

Sally took a deep breath, pushing down the flutter in her stomach. "Just tired," she lied. 

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long before he spoke again. "I know a great place for dinner when we land. Care to join me?" 

Her heart skipped. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her out, especially someone so much younger. But something about the way he said it, the confidence in his tone, made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in years. 

"I'd love to," she said, her voice a little too bright. 

The remaining hours of the flight seemed to stretch on forever, but finally, the wheels of the aircraft touched down on Dutch soil. The passengers applauded, jolting Sally out of her daydream. As they filed off the plane, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for what the night might hold. 

Once they had cleared customs and collected their luggage, Kenneth led her through the bustling streets of Amsterdam. The city was alive with a vibrant energy that made Sally feel both invigorated and slightly overwhelmed. She had been to the city before, but never like this. 

"I know just the spot," he said, guiding her down a narrow alleyway. "It's a local favorite." 

The restaurant was tucked away, a cozy little place with candles flickering on the tables and the scent of garlic and wine in the air. Kenneth ordered for them in Dutch, his accent surprisingly good for someone who had only learned the language for his job. 

The conversation flowed easily between them, a mix of work stories and shared laughter. He was charming, attentive, and she found herself relaxing in his company. The wine helped, too. 

As the meal drew to a close, Kenneth leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "There's something else I want to show you. Something...different." 

Her eyes widened slightly, but she felt a thrill of excitement. "Okay," she said, her voice a breathy agreement. 

They stepped out into the cool night air, the cobblestones slippery under her heels. Kenneth took her hand, leading her through a maze of streets that grew darker and quieter until they stopped in front of a nondescript shop with a green neon sign. 

"This is it," he said, pushing open the door. 

The smell of cannabis hit her like a wave, thick and pungent. Sally had never been in a place like this before, but she didn't protest. Instead, she allowed herself to be led into the warm, dimly lit space, where the walls were lined with jars of colorful buds and the air was hazy with the sweet scent of marijuana. Kenneth moved with ease, pointing out different strains and explaining their effects with the enthusiasm of a sommelier discussing fine wine. 

"So, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. 

"It's...interesting," Sally said, her cheeks flushing. She had always been curious about the infamous Amsterdam coffee shops, but had never had the nerve to visit one alone. 

"You should try it," Kenneth encouraged, his voice a gentle coax. "It'll help you relax." 

They sat in a corner booth, the glow from the neon lights casting an otherworldly hue on their faces. Sally took a tentative puff from the joint he had rolled for her, feeling the smoke fill her lungs before releasing it in a slow exhale. The conversation grew easier as the tension between them loosened, the topics veering from the mundane to the intimate. Kenneth spoke of his past relationships with a candidness that surprised her, and she found herself opening up about her own divorce. 

As the effects of the weed began to settle in, the edges of the world grew softer, the sounds of the city outside muffled. Sally felt a warm buzz spread through her body, a sense of freedom she hadn't experienced in years. Kenneth's hand brushed against hers on the table, and she didn't pull away. 

"Ready for the next adventure?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr. 

Her heart racing, Sally nodded. Kenneth stood, offering her his hand once more, and they left the coffee shop, the night air feeling electric on her skin. They wove through the streets, their destination an adult shop with a neon sign that blinked in the shadows. 

The interior was a riot of colors and textures, a playground for grown-ups with a penchant for the taboo. Kenneth's grip tightened around her hand as they ventured deeper into the store, the air thick with the scent of leather and desire. Sally's eyes widened as she took in the array of toys and devices displayed before her. 

"Let's check this out," Kenneth said, pointing to a curtained-off area in the back. 

Her heart racing, Sally followed him into the dimly lit space. It was a mini-theater, lined with small booths, each with a peephole at eye level. Kenneth's gaze was mischievous as he whispered, "These are the video booths." 

Her cheeks flushed as she realized what they were. "I've never..." she trailed off, not sure if she was ready for this. 

"Come on," he urged, his voice low and thrilling. "It's just a bit of fun. You can watch whatever you like." 

With a deep breath, Sally stepped into one of the booths. Kenneth inserted some coins and the screen flickered to life with a scene that was both shocking and intriguing. She felt a rush of excitement mixed with embarrassment, but also a thrill of curiosity. 

As the minutes ticked by, she found herself drawn into the scenes playing out before her. Kenneth's hand rested lightly on her shoulder, his presence comforting in this alien world. The films grew more explicit, and she felt her body responding in ways she had long forgotten. 

"You should try the gloryhole," Kenneth suggested, his voice thick with suggestion. 

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she couldn't deny the sudden interest that piqued within her. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. 

He chuckled, his hand moving to her chin to turn her face towards him. "It's a hole in the wall," he said, his eyes searching hers. "You can...interact with the person on the other side." 

Sally's heart was racing now, the weed making her senses heightened and her inhibitions lowered. She watched as Kenneth stepped into the booth beside hers, the wall between them thin enough to feel his presence like a heartbeat. The screen in her booth flickered with a new scene, a woman eagerly tasting a man's cock through a similar hole. 

Her eyes darted to the side, where she saw the shadow of a figure moving in the neighboring booth. The man was tall, with dark skin that stood out against the red light that bathed the small space. He had noticed them, his gaze lingering on Sally before he reached down to unbuckle his pants. 

"What are you doing?" she gasped, her eyes wide as Kenneth stepped aside, revealing the gloryhole between their booths. 

"You said you were curious," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Go on, touch it." 

Sally's hand hovered over the gloryhole, her heart racing. The stranger's cock was indeed large and uncut, the skin velvety and unkempt. She could see the shine of pre-cum glistening at the tip. The smell was overpowering, a mix of bodily fluids and something she couldn't quite place. It was definitely not the clean, minty scent she was used to. 

Kenneth's eyes held hers, the dare clear in his gaze. "Go on," he urged, his voice low and hungry. "You know you want to." 

Sally's curiosity won out over her shyness. She leaned closer, her hand shaking as she reached through the gloryhole. The cock in front of her was indeed uncut, the foreskin pulled back to reveal a glistening tip. She took a tentative sniff, the scent of unwashed skin and musk heavy in the air. It was a stark contrast to the pristine hotel rooms and expensive cologne she was used to, but there was something raw and thrilling about it that made her pulse quicken. 

"Go on," Kenneth murmured, his hand sliding around her waist to rest on the small of her back. "You know you want to taste it." 

Sally's heart was racing, but she couldn't deny the thrill coursing through her veins. She leaned closer, her eyes fixed on the stranger's cock, her hand hovering just out of reach. The man watched her, his eyes glinting with lust in the dim light. Kenneth's hand gave her a gentle nudge, and she leaned in, her nose brushing against the velvety skin. The smell was strong, a mix of unwashed flesh and the faint tang of urine. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered before, but she found herself inexplicably drawn to it. 

"Taste it," Kenneth whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "I dare you." 

Sally's eyes flicked to the stranger's cock, the challenge in Kenneth's voice egging her on. She leaned closer, her hand wrapping around the shaft as she took the first tentative lick. The taste was overpowering, a mix of salt and something faintly bitter, the smell of unwashed skin and the musky scent of smegma. It was a world away from the clean, soapedy flavor she was accustomed to. But there was something undeniably thrilling about the raw, unfiltered nature of it all. 

The man on the other side of the wall grunted, his hips jerking slightly. She could feel his excitement through the thin barrier, his cock twitching in her hand. Kenneth's hand slipped around her waist, his fingers ghosting over her hip to rest on her zipper. 

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a sultry whisper. "Show him how much you want it." 

Her resolve crumbling, Sally took the stranger's cock into her mouth, her eyes closing as she savored the sensation. It was thick and heavy, the uncut skin sliding over the head as she sucked and licked. The taste grew stronger, the smell of male arousal filling her nostrils. Kenneth's hand grew bolder, slipping into her pants to find her wetness. 

Her mind raced with the reality of what she was doing, the taboo nature of the act making her pulse pound in her ears. But she couldn't deny the thrill of it, the way her body responded to the anonymous cock in her mouth and Kenneth's touch on her clit. 

The stranger's breath grew ragged, his hands gripping the edges of the booth. Sally's cheeks hollowed as she took him deeper, her eyes watering from the effort. Kenneth's fingers worked in time with her bobbing head, his thumb pressing firmly against her clit. 

"You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and lust. "You're going to make him cum." 

The thought sent a bolt of excitement through her, and she redoubled her efforts, her mouth sliding up and down the shaft with newfound vigor. The man's hips began to buck, his breathing growing erratic. Kenneth's hand was a blur between her legs, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. 

Suddenly, the stranger pulled his cock back, his hand appearing through the gloryhole. "Let me touch you," he rasped, his accent thick and unfamiliar. 

Sally's eyes flew open, meeting Kenneth's intense gaze. He gave her a nod of encouragement, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Go ahead," he whispered, his hand leaving her pussy to give her a gentle push towards the hole. 

Her knees wobbled as she stepped onto the stool, her body now perfectly aligned with the opening. The stranger's hand was rough and warm as it slipped into her pants, his calloused fingers finding her clit with surprising precision. She gasped, her hips bucking slightly against his touch. 

"So wet," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "You like it, don't you?" 

Sally couldn't find the words to respond, her mind a whirl of sensations. Kenneth stepped closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell him how much you like it," he urged, his own hand moving to cup her breast, squeezing gently. 

"Y-yes," she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible. The stranger's fingers worked in tandem with Kenneth's, sending her closer and closer to the edge. Her hand reached back, gripping the wall for support as she rode the wave of pleasure. 

"Tell him you want him," Kenneth whispered, his voice a dark seduction. 

Sally's eyes squeezed shut, the words leaving her mouth in a shaky moan. "I want you." 

The stranger's hand withdrew, leaving her panting and exposed. Kenneth's grip on her waist tightened. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand sliding around to unbutton her blouse. "Now, let him see you." 

Her shirt fell open, revealing her lacy bra and the fullness of her breasts. The stranger's eyes went wide with lust, his cock jutting back through the hole, demanding attention. Kenneth stepped aside, his own arousal evident in his tight pants. 

"Show him," he whispered, his voice a siren's call. 

With trembling hands, Sally reached back, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. The cool air of the booth brushed against her nipples, making them peak with excitement. The stranger's hand reached out again, his thumb tracing a line from her navel to her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. 

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice a gruff growl. "Now, sit on the chair and face me." 

Sally did as she was told, her legs trembling as she sat down, her back to the wall. Kenneth moved behind her, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard peaks. 

The stranger's eyes were glued to her pussy, his hand stroking his cock in a mesmerizing rhythm. "So beautiful," he said, his voice a low growl. 

Sally felt a strange mix of embarrassment and power as she watched him watch her, his desire laid bare. Kenneth's hands moved to her hips, urging her closer to the gloryhole. 

"I want to feel you," the stranger said, his voice hoarse with need. 

Sally leaned forward, her breath hitching as she felt the tip of his cock brush against her folds. Kenneth's hands moved to her hips, guiding her as she slid down onto the stranger's shaft. It was thick and unyielding, filling her in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. 

The stranger's eyes never left hers as she began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. Kenneth's hands remained on her breasts, his thumbs flicking at her nipples, his breath hot against her neck. 

"That's it," Kenneth murmured, his voice a gentle coax. "Take it all." 

The stranger's grip on her hips grew firmer, his strokes growing faster. Sally could feel the tension building within her, the pressure mounting with every thrust. Kenneth leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, searching kiss, his tongue mimicking the movements of the cock inside her. 

"I'm going to cum," the stranger groaned, his voice strained. "I want to cum in your mouth." 

Sally's eyes widened, but she nodded, her body on fire with lust. Kenneth stepped aside, allowing her to lean forward. The stranger's cock slipped out of her pussy with a wet sound, and she took it in her hand, eager to please. 

"Yeah," he hissed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take it all." 

With a deep breath, Sally opened her mouth, the taste of the stranger's cock still lingering on her tongue. He thrust into her mouth, his movements growing erratic as he approached climax. Kenneth watched, his own arousal evident in the bulge in his pants. 

The stranger's cock swelled, and with a final grunt, he exploded, hot cum filling her mouth. She swallowed, the salty taste mixing with the lingering scent of his arousal. He pulled out, his cock spurting the last drops onto her face, his hand moving to rub the remaining semen into her hair. 

Sally's eyes watered, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she licked her lips, the taste of him still there, the act of degradation strangely exhilarating. Kenneth's hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of cum on her cheek before sliding into her mouth, allowing her to share in the act. 

The stranger's hand withdrew, the tension in the booth palpable. Sally's chest heaved with every breath, her body still thrumming with unspent desire. Kenneth's eyes searched hers, his own need clear. 

"Your turn," he murmured, spinning her around with surprising strength. Her legs trembled as she faced the wall of screens, the images flickering with the depraved acts of strangers. Kenneth stepped behind her, his hands sliding down her body to grip her hips. 

"I want you to watch," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I want you to see how much I want you." 

He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock pressing against her swollen pussy. Sally could feel the heat of him, the throbbing length that promised to fill her completely. With a groan, he thrust into her, his cock sliding in with ease. 

"Oh God," she moaned, her eyes locked on the screen. The woman on the screen was being fucked from behind, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Sally felt a strange kinship with the performer, her own body mirroring the depraved scene. 

Kenneth's thrusts grew harder, his grip on her hips unyielding. The angle was perfect, his cock hitting her g-spot with every stroke. She reached up, her hand gripping the edge of the booth for support as he pounded into her, her breasts bouncing with every impact. 

"Look at them," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Look at how much they're enjoying it." 

Her eyes darted from screen to screen, each one more depraved than the last. Men and women in every conceivable position, all caught in the throes of passion. It was a visual symphony of lust, and she was the star performer in her own private show. 

The stranger in the next booth watched them, his hand moving in time with Kenneth's thrusts. Sally felt a thrill of exhibitionism, the idea of being watched adding a new layer of excitement. Kenneth's hand reached around her, his thumb finding her clit as he fucked her standing up. 

"Cum for me," he growled, his hips slamming into her. "Cum for them." 

The pressure inside her grew, a delicious ache that she knew would soon become unbearable. The stranger's eyes never left hers, his gaze hungry as he stroked his own cock, watching her every move. 

And then it was too much. Sally's orgasm hit her like a wave, her body shuddering with the force of it. Kenneth's name was a scream on her lips, the sound muffled by the walls of the booth. The stranger's hand shot through the gloryhole, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer to his cock. 

Her mouth opened, her eyes locked on the woman on the screen as she took the stranger in again, her movements sloppy and desperate. Kenneth's hand tightened on her clit, his other hand pulling her hips back to meet every thrust. 

The stranger groaned, his cum spurting through the hole and onto her face. Sally swallowed, the taste of the anonymous man mixing with her own arousal. Kenneth's strokes grew erratic, his breathing ragged. 

With a final grunt, he emptied himself inside her, his cock pulsing with every spurt of seed. Sally leaned against the wall, her legs shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Kenneth kissed her neck, his breath hot against her skin. 

"You were amazing," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

They stepped out of the booth, their clothes disheveled and their bodies still humming with desire. Sally felt a strange sense of liberation, as if she had shed a layer of herself that she had been carrying for too long. Kenneth handed her a tissue, his smile wicked. 

"Ready for the next round?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 

Sally looked up at him, her heart racing. "What's next?" she breathed, her voice a seductive challenge. 

He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. "The night's still young," he whispered. "And I have so much more to show you." 

With a wink, he led her out of the adult shop and into the night, the neon lights of Amsterdam beckoning them with the promise of more secrets and sins to be shared. 

"You left something behind," Kenneth said with a smirk, holding up her lacy panties. They were drenched, a testament to the carnality that had unfolded in the tiny booth. 

Sally's cheeks flushed as she took them from him, her eyes dropping to the ground. "I know," she murmured, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "A little souvenir for him, I suppose." 

Kenneth's eyes sparkled with amusement. "You're something else, Sally," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. "I had no idea you had such a wild side." 

"Neither did I," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She tucked the panties into her bag, feeling a thrill at the idea of the stranger finding them later, the memory of her juices and the night's events forever intertwined with the fabric. 

They stumbled along the cobblestone streets, their laughter echoing through the night. The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat still pulsing between her legs, her bare skin exposed and sensitive. Each step sent a jolt of pleasure through her, a reminder of the evening's escapades. 

To be continued

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: A surprising turn of events has the roles reversed. Over some good wine you get to know Jake better, and kind of find out you like him, a little bit.

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Wine Me, Dine Me

"Why yes, Jake Seresin, will you go on a dinner date with me?"

You extend your hand and bow with great flourish. Jake affects a cheesy southern accent he replies,

"Oh my, this all so sudden," he pretends to clutch at fake pearls at his neck. Dropping the accent, he answers, smile wide,

"Yes, I'd like that a lot."

The walk to the restaurant is filled with easy conversation, luckily the restaurant is far enough away from the stadium that it isn't filled with the post game crowd and you're seated quickly at a cozy table by the front window. You page through the wine list with Jake and agree on a bottle of Malbec and a few plates. Talking with Jake has turned out to be like the wine, flowing easily and a whole lot more complex than you expected. It turns out he's a lot more than the cocky flying ego you assumed him to be last night.

"My reputation precedes me. I let everyone make assumptions on what they've heard about me. Let them figure out why that's a bad idea. There's a lot to be learned just listening. Let all the supposedly smarter people in the room speak so you can get the best info. Plus, once you’re known as the smartest, the best, whatever people work to knock you down. Why not exceed expectations rather than set them?”

You laugh darkly,

"The fact you’re listening to everyone in the room already makes you the smartest person there. I can't tell you how many times something I've said in a meeting gets passed over, and then suddenly comes out someone else's mouth, usually a guy, and it's the most fucking brilliant thing ever. I've had to be a hard ass and claim back my ideas. It definitely doesn't make me everyone's favorite coworker. My job, my education, my experience sets people's expectations high and I'm always pushing up against that and making the level higher and higher."

"That’s got to suck,” he replies, empathy apparent on his face. You nod in agreement.

“What's work like for you? I know you work for Lockheed Martin, what do you do there?" he asks, stabbing at the last mini crepe on the plate. He offers it up to me and I shake my head no.

"My job is in research for new aircraft, that's about all I can tell you and that I do a lot of work with the Skunk Works up in Bakersfield. Lucky for me I can be out of the San Diego office and not have to live in Bakersfield."

"Amen to that, not much there in the middle of the desert. Did you move here for that job?"

"Yes, the aforementioned work breakup left me without any entanglements. Lydia had a spare room in her house so I moved from Florida to here for a new start."

"How do you know Lydia? You both seem like different ends of a very broad spectrum."

"Believe it or not, I've known Lydia since my first day of college at Notre Dame. We met in our fundamentals of engineering class. We were two of the five women out of a class of 50 so we ended up sitting by each other and becoming friends."

"What, hold up. Lydia is an engineer?" Jake asks, eyes wide in disbelief. He snorts, considering the possibility.

"Did not expect that based on what I saw and heard last night at the Hard Deck and coming from Rooster's room, " he pauses to shudder, "What kind of engineer?"

"Environmental, she works up with the Scripps Institute modeling pollutants in ocean currents. Turns out we dumped a lot of nasty stuff in the ocean that we kind of need to know where it's going. I get it, you meet Lydia and she comes across as a total bimbo ready to get laid. More boobs than brains. What did you hear from Rooster's room?"

"Things that can not be unheard. I think he actually crowed like a rooster at one point. That girl has some stamina, I was surprised Rooster kept up with her. At the point I heard her shout, 'I want to ride that mustache' I was ready to suffocate myself with my own pillow. I was able to finally drown them out by using some of the earplugs I've got for being on the tarmac."

The crowing and mustache comments make you nearly spit out your wine, which would be a shame. It's really a great bottle.

"He crowed like an actual farm animal?”

Jake shudders reliving the memory.

“Also what's up with that mustache? It looks like it fell out of a 70s porno and somehow stuck to his face," I ask, amused by this whole exchange.

Jake shrugs, seemingly as perplexed as you are by Rooster's facial hair choices.

You continue,

"Now you can see, or rather hear, why I moved out of Lydia's at the first chance I got. I love that girl to death, but she is one noisy roommate."

This is Jake's turn to almost spit his wine. You continue on,

"You know that Frank Zappa song, Catholic Girls, that's Lydia."

He nods, you make a mental note that he must really be into classic rock if he can get that deep pull of a reference.

"Lydia is Lydia Mary Catherine O'Callahan, comes from old east coast money, went to Catholic schools her whole life. Apparently, her parents thought Notre Dame would be a good influence, but in reality it just gave her a new stock of corn fed guys to ply her wiles on. She actually slept with at least two seminary students who then changed their minds about being priests."

Jake is overtaken by the thought and laughs a deep rumbling laugh that makes you feel that familiar tug of arousal low in your belly.

Eventually, the wine and the food are finished. You settle the check amicably,

"I asked you on the date," and before you realize it you hear yourself saying,

"You can get it next time," which brings a bright smile to Jake's face. You check the time, look outside at the falling darkness and mention,

"I took the ferry over, so I should get back to the terminal to catch my lift home."

"So did I," he answers back before asking,

"So did you want to walk back together?"

"Sounds lovely," I reply. The walk through the Gas Lamp quarter is beautiful at this time of night, although when you glance at Jake at your side he is always staring at you. This is where you can see that unshakeable confidence that comes with him being a pilot in that he only smiles wider when you make eye contact with him, he never averts his gaze.

Finally on the ferry and standing at the front rail the day starts to catch up to you, and a small yawn escapes your mouth just as you shiver.

"You cold?" Jake asks, he is leaning on the rail next to you, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating off of it.

"Yeah, didn't think I was going to be out this late.I honestly thought I'd be back home right after the game."

Jake laughs, and smiles widely, laugh lines forming,

"Well, I'm glad I exceeded your dismally low expectations of me and that you gave me a second chance after that piss poor showing last night. Here, let me warm you up." He moves to stand behind you, brings his chest to your back, then drapes his long arms over your arms. Instantly, you're 10 degrees warmer, although some parts of you are heating up quicker than others by this close contact. You're waiting to see if he tries to put more of his moves on you and you almost feel disappointed that he doesn't. You start the mental math of when it was exactly the last time you had sex and you realize it's been four months. No wonder horny brain has been hyperactive today.

The walk to your place is quiet and filled with brief orbs of brightness as you walk under the street lamps. Jake has taken a hold of your hand since stepping off the ferry and you don't mind it. At your door, there are a few seconds of awkwardness after you unlock your door. And then the confidence you've seen from earlier kicks in and Jake is craning his neck and head down to meet yours. He whispers into the space between you and him,

"Elsa, can I kiss you?"

You don't reply but rather catch his lips in a deep kiss, impressing yourself with your own boldness. His hands go to your waist to pull you in close to him. Your hands find themselves moving up and down the hard planes of his chest and abs. You can feel each muscle defined under his shirt. Your mouth waters at the thought of licking and kissing each one. Gently, your mouth opens while the kiss deepens and his tongue slips into your mouth. You sneak your own into his mouth just past his impossibly white teeth.

The taste of Malbec is still heavy on his tongue. His hands are wandering from your waist, one up to meet the bare skin of your back and shoulders, the other going south and starting to play with the hem of your dress.

Your hands have moved, one to his back under his shirt to feel the skin there and the other has moved to the back of his head and your fingers are carding through his perfect blond hair. His hand on the hem of your dress is slowly sliding the fabric up your leg exposing it to the cool night air, not that you even notice the cold with the hot points of contact with Jake's body. You start to feel the hardness between his legs growing against your stomach. He is ridiculously tall compared to you, it wouldn't take much of a height change to lean down and suck his cock. This thought is the one that brings you back down to earth and with more willpower you thought you had, you break the kiss feeling breathless and a tingle on your skin where his hands have been. He pulls back from the embrace with his eyes blown wide and licking his lips.

"Jake, holy shit, you’re a good kisser. And as much as my body is screaming to keep going, we need to stop here. For…," your words falter and fail you here, because you don't want to get entangled with someone who could be leaving the next day. You're not sure you can handle yet another break up, mostly you're scared to trust again, and you can't be just a hookup for one night, the list goes on.

Jake leans in to whisper in your ear, "No worries, we can take this as slow or fast as you want. I'm just pleased that you already want me, not exactly the best way of keeping my ego in check letting me know how wet I'm making you right now. I'll leave you with this little tidbit to think about later tonight. I saw one of your tattoos when I picked you up for that foul ball. When you give me the chance I intend to kiss every part of it and any others I find on you."

This exchange has not tempered the fever running through your body. You take one step back to put some distance between you and him before you lean in for one more kiss. One that feels almost chaste after what you both shared, but one that is filled with tension and promise. It's your turn to whisper in his ear,

"You'll just have to figure out where the tattoo goes, and here's a little thought to fuel your imagination when you get home and jerk off. I never got to tell you that I was a Division 1 gymnast at Notre Dame. That makes me very, very flexible." You can hear him tamp down a whimper when you kiss his cheek goodnight.

"Goodnight, Jake."

"Goodnight, Elsa."

@mayhemmanaged

You walk into your house and shut the door. You quickly sneak over to the living room window to watch Jake walk away. You swear he's almost skipping and he definitely is whistling. It makes you smile and realize enough to say out loud to no one, "I am so fucked."

Chapter 4

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

[greatwesternway]

wait the stuka and spitfire are friends? how did that happen?

More than friends even. They're a bonded pair; do not separate.

Even without Stuka's particular background, I think they would have ended up together. They're from the same time period, the same conflict, and so the museum always displays them together. They also play too roughly for the other little planes so they can only really play with each other anyway.

But Stuka's particular background is that he very nearly loves the British. Not enough to learn English or anything, but they've done a lot for him. Everything he has, including Spitfire, is British largesse.

Stuka came to be so familiar with the British when he was shot down in combat over Libya. Managing to land safely, his crew attempted repairs but the British found them before they could finish. Protocol was to destroy the plane in this event, but his crew chose to flee before getting captured themselves instead. So the British collected Stuka and took him home with them.

The British Information Services then took him on tour of America with a bunch of other war relics and donated him to the MSI after the tour concluded. And Stuka quite preferred his new job to getting shot at and abandoned in North African deserts. That he's only one of two Stukas out of roughly six thousand to make it to preservation? The British are all right, far as he's concerned.

About a year later after they left him with the MSI, they returned and offered the museum a Spitfire to go with him. "Well, you ought to have an Allied aircraft too," they said. And they were right, honestly. Spitfire... gives Stuka context, let's say.

Spitfire doesn't have any particular love for Germans, but he did learn to speak German for Stuka. Not only does this better facilitate their relationship, but it also serves as a defensive measure. Some engines would question the wisdom of getting so cozy with an enemy unit, but it is hard to argue the point when Spitfire went to the trouble to learn the language. No Nazis will be collaborating on his watch (and what have Some Engines done to curtail the spread of enemy rhetoric in the museum)?

As to why they should have become so friendly at all? Spitifre explains it as a warrior's bond. Once the war is over, it's a lot easier to see oneself in the enemy.

A civvie engine wouldn't understand.

[mattypattypinky]

Cuddling Specific Vector Headcanons :')

This one is more obviously romantic.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

- Couch Cuddles -

He's big on pressing himself on peoples sides, so I feel like he's big on nuzzling and pushing himself close to his partner. He also seems like he'd like to sit in his partners lap and snuggle close.

Maybe order some food, sit back and snuggle. Nuzzling his head in the crook of his partners neck... Especially his nose. Like a big cat.

I don't think he'd play video games during cuddle sessions. He'd prefer watching a documentary, or National Geographic. He'd like Free Willy movies.

I like to think there's a remote somewhere around his living room table, or room that controls the light brightness of the fortress' lights. Theres bright lights all around the living room ceiling. I feel like during cuddle sessions, especially soft cuddle sessions, he'd insist to turn the brightness down.

This would be cute as he'd have to figure out which remote it is, since I don't think he uses it often. I feel like, more often than not, he just turns the lights clean off or keeps them running overnight.

If you're afraid of Fish (His shark! I headcanon thats the sharks name.) - He'd just, at first, assume he could just tell you that the shark is safe.

"Don't worry, he's totally safe!" - And the shark is circling underneath. If you're still scared, he'll get off the couch and crouch down. Maybe even knock on the glass. He wants to prove the shark is totally safe to be around, and he sure doesn't seem too worried about it, which is sort of relieving to see. But if you're adamantly afraid of Fish, he'll take you to his bedroom or something instead to cuddle.

Picture this. It's a late night, and you're feeling tired and sappy. You're cuddling up to him. I'm sure there would be playful banter here and there. Maybe some marine movie on, like Finding Nemo, or just a wildlife cam. The lights are dim and he's just enjoying the moment. I'm sure the teasing and playful banter would lead to soft words of affection. Maybe talking about the movie or thing you're watching... Joking about Gru a bit. You know. Soft shit.

He really likes praise, since he's desperate for validation and for someone around him to be proud of him - so give him any of it and he'll be putty real quick.

If you were cold he'd bring down a blanket to cover you both on the couch. Some warm food of your choice...The lights low, and you're just watching a shark cam. Pretty cute. Maybe you'll fall asleep together. He'll try not to fall asleep first. He'll probably fail.

- Bedroom Cuddles -

Ideal position, atleast going to sleep, is him sprawled out like a starfish, his partner pushed up against him or on top of him -

He'd enjoy the weight. Like a big weighted blanket.

He'd enjoy being the little spoon. He enjoys being vulnerable.

If he was big spoon, he'd maybe little kisses all over the place. His nose would probably tickle you. He'd struggle to find a position he was comfortable in. Its much more... Quiet in the bed than in the couch. Probably bed time soon anyways. No TV playing background noise... I do feel like he'd be the type to have a fan running near his bedside though. For white noise. Maybe it's oscillating. His breathing would probably be a little loud. You'd be able to fall asleep to it.

- Aircraft Cuddles -

His aircraft / Flying Vehicle Thing 😐😐😐?!!!!! IDK THE NAME?? but it's got little space. He's got a little seatbelt for himself in it, but theres not much room besides that. It's clearly made for one person.

He'd probably try to squeeze you into the belt, or have you lie in his lap while he's driving. Or maybe he'd sit in your lap while he's driving. Or you could be on his side and you can hold onto him like a koala.

If you were tired or cozy, he'd fly it slow. Slow and steady. I mean, usually he flies it reckless, but for his partner it's so much different. He'd go slow thorough the clouds. You'd be able to just be rocked to sleep like its some sort of baby crib. He'd be sure not to jostle you while driving. If he found out you fell asleep on the ride home, he'd be even more careful not to wake you. He might even slow down his flight just to be extra careful with you.

Or to savour the moment.