#photographer!jake

[vanfleeter]

Black Smoke: Chapter 7 - When Ones Ends, Another One Grows

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+, that never changes. Fluff. Sentimental memories. Mentions of marriage. Mentions of pregnancy and babies. Angst. Death. Grief. Crying. A funeral. A little bit of fear. Smut. Sneaky. Penetrative sex. Getting caught. And if you have a squeaky bed? Good luck. (as always, if I miss anything, please let me know so I can add to the list.)

Black Smoke Masterlist

Stepping up to the bedroom door, Jake slowly reaches for the doorknob and twists it. The familiar smell of cheap cologne and flowers fill his nose as he steps through into the room. A smell that he’s known his entire life. There lying on the bed with his eyes closed and his hands resting in his chest is his grandfather. His chest softly rises and then falls, signaling to Jake that he has waited for him to get there. Approaching the bed, he slowly sinks down in the chair that was placed beside it. His grandfather’s eyes flutter open and he turns his head to look at Jake. A smile spreads across his face and he stretches out a hand to him.

“Jacob..” He breathes.

“Dziadek..” Jake says as he wraps his hand around his grandfather's.

He chuckles with a smile. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

Jake smiles and squeezes his hand. “You held on for me.” He says. “Why?”

“I had to see my Jacob,” His grandfather says as he squeezes Jake’s hand back. “I heard you were in France with a pretty little woman, hmm?”

Jake scoffs with a smile. “My girlfriend, yes,” He says. “Her name is (Y/N), and she’s amazing.”

“I bet she is,” He says. “I can see that twinkle in your eye again.. Been a long time.” He squeezes Jake’s hand again and smiles. “Don’t let go of her, okay? You have a bright future with her, I know you do.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Mmmm, a grandpa just knows these things.” He winks at Jake and chuckles. “She’s going to bring you so much joy and so much love, a love you’ve never experienced before.”

“You’re sounding a little prophetic,” Jake narrows his eyes at him with a little smirk. “What do you know, old man?”

His grandfather laughs, a deep laugh, one Jake hasn’t heard for a while. “Just trust me.. But I want you to be brave because that is who you are.”

“You’re scaring me,” Jake laughs.

“Oh no,” His grandfather chuckles. “These are all good things, and nothing to be afraid of.”

It was quiet between the two of them. Jake still held his hand while his grandfather stared at the ceiling. “How much time?” Jake asks, breaking the silence.

“Mm, not much..” He says as he turns his head to look at Jake again. “I do feel at peace.”

“Are you ready?” Jake says, feeling the tightness his chest grows. His grandfather nods his head. Jake’s eyes begin to feel with tears. “And you said your goodbyes to everyone?”

“You were the last one.”

Jake pats his hand. “Then I guess you are free to go.” He says as a lone tear slips down his cheek.

His grandfather smiles. “I love you Jacob.”

“I love you too.” Jake says with a weak smile. “Put in a good word for me, will you?”

His grandfather laughs softly. “Of course I will.” His eyes begin to drift to a close and his grip on Jake’s hand softens.

The tears flow from Jake’s eyes as he holds his grandfather’s hand still. He stayed there for a while until a knock came on the door. “Jake?” Comes your sweet voice.

“He’s gone..” Jake’s voice cracks. He feels your hand rest on his shoulder. He turns to face you, never letting go of his grandfather’s hand. He reaches out with his other hand and pulls you in for a kiss. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Of course I do.”

“And you know that I was only jealous..” He continues. “I could never accuse you of such a thing.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” You say as you brush your thumb over his cheek to wipe away his tears.

The two of you stayed in Michigan until after the funeral. You’ve never heard Jake play the guitar before but you did the day of the funeral. He played a beautiful melody while Sam played along on the piano. It was a beautiful day despite it being a sad one. You held Jake’s hand throughout it all and gave him your shoulder when he needed to cry.

He was quiet for most of the day, except for the few times where he would whisper ‘I love you’ in your ear and kiss your cheek. Aside from playing the guitar and dropping a fistful of dirt into the ground, he never left your side. Even when he was playing the guitar, he’d occasionally look up and his eyes went straight to you. He clung to you like he was afraid that he might lose you too.

And when the burial came to a close and everyone was getting into their cars, Jake started the engine of his and turned his head to look at you. “Can I take you somewhere?” He asks.

“As long as that somewhere has food,” You say. “I’m starving and I’ve been smelling ham all day.”

Jake chuckles and nods his head towards the back. “I may have stolen some food from the reception hall,” He says, a twinkling smile playing on his face.

“You didn’t..”

“But I did,” He turns back to face forward and puts the car in drive.

“You naughty boy,” You giggle.

–

The drive wasn’t long as Jake was pulling into the parking lot in front of the pond. He gathers out the food from the back and a blanket that he snatched from his parents’ house. He brings you over to a specific spot in the grass and lays out the blanket. “What are you doing?” You ask as he sits down on the blanket.

“Just spending some time with you,” He says. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Definitely not, but Jake, shouldn’t we be with your family today?”

He sighs and looks down at his lap. “I need a break, just for a little while.” He says. “I’ve been with them all week and all day today, and I just.. I need just a little moment in time where I’m not thinking about grief and death.”

“Fair..” You go to take out the first item in the tote bag. A plastic bowl full of mashed potatoes. “Good god Jake,” You laugh. “Did you leave any for the others?”

“You did not see how big that bowl was,” Jake says. “There’s plenty left for them.”

He packed all of the main food items. Potatoes, green beans, pasta salad, fruit, vegetables with a small side of ranch, six rolls, a bowl full of cookies and various other desserts.

“Are you sure you left enough for everyone?”

He chuckles and pries the lid off of the container of grapes. “I promise they won’t starve.” He picks a grape off the stem and feeds it to you.

“Tell me about your grandfather,” You say, resting your hand on his knee.

Jake clears his throat, “What do you want to know?” He says.

You shrug your shoulders. “Umm, what’s your favorite memory with him?”

“Oh uh,” Jake puts on his thinking face which makes you smile. “Well, once when Josh and I were five, we were supposed to play baseball this one Saturday but unfortunately the weather decided that it wanted to rain down that day. You can just imagine how bummed out we were. It’s the classic little kid sitting by the window looking all upset and staring out the window at the rain.” He smiles and messes with a button on his jacket. “But as we were sitting there, we saw his truck pull up in the driveway and he got out with our grandmother. And when he came inside, he made the announcement that we’re going to play baseball. At first we were confused, but then he explained to us that it doesn’t rain everywhere.. So he made us get our shoes on and get in the truck and he drove us out a ways away from here, where it wasn’t raining. He brought us to a baseball field and we played baseball. He managed to turn a gloomy day into a fun one.”

“That’s so sweet,” You say as you feed him a grape.

“That was also the day that Josh tripped over his shoelaces and got a mouthful of grass and dirt.” You playfully roll your eyes and he chuckles. “Aside from that.. Our grandfather was all around a caring man, he loved all of us equally but differently. He knew we were all different so he treated us with the same amount of love but also catered to our differences and interests. He was very supportive of Josh, and supported everything about him. He supported our band and then supported us when we decided to do our own things.”

“Speaking of the band,” You say. “Why did you guys drop it?”

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, really..” He says. “We all loved it, but I guess we were getting to the point of knowing it just wasn’t going to go anywhere. We struggled to get signed and we were always rejected.. So we all mutually decided to just split off and go in our original directions.”

“And you picked up photography?”

Jake nods his head. “I enjoyed being behind the camera when helping Josh with his films that I thought I’d try it out.”

“Turned out pretty successful.” You say as you pick another grape off the stem.

He smiles and leans over to kiss you. “I think it did too,” He says. “If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.” He shifts around on the blanket and closes the container to the grapes. “I had quite an interesting conversation with my grandfather before he passed,” He says.

“Oh yeah?” Jake nods his head. “What was it about?”

“You.. Me.. Us.. Our future..”

“Oh? Was he a fortune teller?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “I said something similar,” He says. “But uh.. He told me to never let you go, because you’re apparently going to bring me so much joy and so much love, a love that I’ve never experienced before.”

“I will?”

“I guess so,” He pops off the lid to the mashed potatoes and grabs a plastic fork from inside the basket. “He also told me to be brave.”

“He’s just looking out for you.” You smile and dip a fork into the potatoes and take a bite.

“Yeah.. Maybe..” He takes a bite from the potatoes as well. “Do you know something that I should know?” He says with his eyes narrowed just slightly.

You giggle but shake your head. “I don’t know anything.” You say before taking another bite.

After spending a couple hours at the pond, eating all of the food until you were positively stuffed, the two of you make your way back to his parents’ house. He reverted back to his quiet self when he stepped through the front door, but he bid both of his parents a goodnight, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before he followed you upstairs.

He stared out into space as he stood in front of the mirror and loosened his necktie. Sliding it off, he drops it onto the desk on sets to work on unbuttoning his shirt. Crawling off the bed, you walk over to him and help him finish undoing his shirt.

“What’s going on inside of your head?” You say.

“Just.. Thinking..” He says.

“Thinking about what?” You help him slide off his shirt and carefully put it on a hanger.

“Us..”

You turn back to face him. “Still stuck on what your grandfather told you?”

“No,” He says. “Sort of.. But not entirely..”

“Care to fill me in?” You ask as you unbuckle his belt and slide it out from the loops.

He grabs your hands and pulls them up to his mouth to kiss them. “I love you so much.”

“Well I love you too.”

“And I want to take the next step forward.”

“Pardon?”

He chuckles and kisses your hands again. “What are your thoughts on marriage?”

Your eyebrows perk. “Marriage? That’s what you’re thinking about?”

He nods his head. “Today got me thinking.. What if we got married?”

“Now?”

He laughs but shakes his head. “No, not right now.” He says. “But soon, maybe?”

“Is this your way of proposing?”

“Not quite,” He says as he pulls away from you. He goes over to his duffel and digs around in his pocket. “Not exactly how I planned on doing this,” He says. “But nothing we do is ever planned.”

He turns back to face you and holds a black velvet box in his hand. “Jake..” You say. “How long… How long have you had this?”

“Since before we left for France..” He says. “I know this is crazy but.. I really, really love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you like my grandparents did. I want to make babies with you and watch them grow, I want to create this life with you.. If you say yes..”

He slowly bends down to one knee and looks up at you with those hope filled, chocolate brown eyes. If there’s one thing you're certain of is that you can’t live without this man. He’s shown and given you nothing but love. He’s brought you to places that you never thought you’d ever get to see with your own eyes, and he’s given you experiences that you never thought would ever happen, and of course he’s magnificent in bed. That you have to factor in too.

“Why wouldn’t I say yes?” You say with a smirk playing on your face.

He chuckles and stands to his feet. He slides the ring on your finger as he leans down to gently kiss you. “I’d say let’s make love, but umm.. My bed is kind of squeaky. And Josh has to sleep in here too.”

You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. “That’s okay, I can wait.”

“I love you,” He says.

“I love you too.” You say back.

-

The next morning you wake up to Jake tracing his finger along the curve of your breast. “What are you doing?” You ask as you turn over to face him.

“Waiting for you to wake up,” He says. You can see a hint of mischief in his eyes as he looks at you.

“What do you want?”

“You.” He simply says before kissing you.

You press your hand against his chest, pausing his movements. “But your bed squeaks.”

He chuckles and draws you in for another kiss. “No one is here.” He points across the room and you find Josh’s bed empty. “They all went out to clean up the reception hall, they’ll be gone for a while.”

“Oh Jake, we should go help.”

He shakes his head. “When I went down earlier to snag a little bit of coffee, I told them you weren’t feeling well so we’d stay here.”

“Jacob, you lied?”

He chuckles. “Not entirely.. I also told them that if you’re feeling better then we’d help unload everything when they get back.”

“You are sneaky.”

He smiles and kisses you again. “I just wanted to have you.. I can’t wait until we get home. I want to celebrate now..” He interlaces his hand with yours and moves around your engagement ring on your finger. He rolls you on your back and releases your hand. He leans back on his knees and pushes down his boxers until he’s kicking them to the floor. The bed lets out a low groan and he grimaces making you giggle. “I told you..”

You sit up to remove your top and work on taking off your bottoms before he has you laid back again against the pillows and he draws the covers up over the both of you.

“I feel seventeen again,” You say, making him laugh.

“Definitely feels like high school, having to sneak around without my parents knowing what I’m doing.”

He lines himself up with your entrance before pushing inside of you. “Fuck I’ve missed this,” His says into the crook of your neck. “I knew we should've just gotten a hotel room.”

“Then what thrill would we have from sneaking around?”

“True,” He says as he begins to pick up his pace a little. The bed beyond squeaking with each thrust he gives. “Fuck this is a lot louder than I thought it was going to be.” You can’t help but to giggle and he thrusts deeper inside of you. “You find it funny?” You nod your head and he pulls out before pounding right back into you making you gasp.

“You have to admit, Jake..” You moan, your back arching as his cock brushes against that one spot inside of you. “That this is definitely on the list of things we’ve never done before.”

“And what would that list be?”

“Sex in the middle of the savannah…”

“That was…incredible.” You feel his cock twitch inside of you, his orgasm creeping on him quickly. “What else?”

“The kinky mirrored room in the French villa..”

“Fuck..” He throws his back, biting his lip but never ceasing his thrusts.

“And don’t forget you fucking me in the middle of the vineyard where anyone could have seen us.”

That warm feeling spreads through your belly and you grip tighter to his ass, pushing him as deep as he can inside of you. “Fucking hell..” He groans as he thrusts once more and finally succumbs to his orgasm, his warm seed filling you as your own spills.

“But I think a squeaky bed takes the cake..”

He laughs against your chest, the laugh you’ve missed all week. He’s no longer brooding or quiet. You can feel the warmth radiating from him as the light finally shines through. He slowly pulls out of you and rolls carefully beside you with his back pressed against the wall. His chest glistens with sweat and his face matching.

Suddenly the bedroom flies open and Josh steps through. “GOOD MORNING LOVEBIRDS!”

“Josh!” Jake shouts as he pulls the sheets up to cover your chest.

“What? It’s my room too.” He says as he walks over to his suitcase and retrieves a shirt for himself. “Oh and next time you decide to have sex in this rickety old thing, be sure to listen for the garage door opening. I’m assuming you’re feeling better.” Josh smirks towards you. “Better have one hell of an excuse for mom..”

“Oh god..” Jake groans. “Did she…”

“We all did.”

You can’t help but to laugh and Jake looks at you astonished. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s definitely like being seventeen again..”

“Y’all couldn’t have waited until you were back home?” Josh questions as he leans against the doorframe.

“I would rather not say when we’re buttnaked right now,” Jake says. “So if you don’t mind..” He says as he waves his hand in the shoo’ing motion for Josh to leave.

“Of course, of course.” Josh says as he rolls his eyes and leaves the room. “Make sure to wash those sheets!” He calls as he closes the door.

Jake groans and falls back against the pillows. “Still think this takes the cake?”

“Oh for sure,” You laugh before pushing yourself out of bed and grabbing your clothes to get dressed.

-

Eventually making it downstairs, all of the conversation dies down when the two of you step into the kitchen. “So should I start buying little booties for the baby?” Sam teases, earning a slap on the back of the head from Danny. “Ow! It was just a joke, damn..”

“No-o-o,” Jake says as he rolls his eyes. “But you can start looking into buying a tuxedo,” He adds.

“A tuxedo?” Sam questions. “For what?”

Jake grabs your hands and lifts it up for them to see the ring on your finger. “You’re engaged?!” Josh exclaims. “When did this happen?”

“Uh, last night,” Jake says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well congrats!” Josh exclaims as he gets up from the table and comes over to hug the both of you. “After this week, I definitely think this is the good news we all could use.”

“Good news?” Their father says as he walks into the house and carries the last of the trunk load. “What did we miss?”

“Uh Dad.. Mom..” Jake takes a deep breath, clearly more nervous to tell his parents than he is his brothers. “Last night I asked (Y/N) to marry me.”

“M-Marry?” His mother stammers. “Y-You're engaged?”

Jake nods his head. “Yeah, Mom.. We are.” He braves a small but proud smile and squeezes your hand. “I know with everything going on this week, it might not be the best time but I wanted to.”

A smile spreads across his mother’s face and she rushes over to the two of you. “This is wonderful! Oh, your grandfather would be so happy for you!” She gushes. “This is great news!”

“Welcome to family, (Y/N).” His father chuckles as he hugs you.

“And who knows, they might even have a baby on the way.” Sam jokes again.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” Danny warns. “Shut up.”

“Oh my god,” Their mother gasps. “Are you pregnant?”

“No! No!” Jake exclaims. “Sam can fuck off.. No, we aren’t having a baby–at least not yet anyways.”

“Yeah, tell that to the bed upstairs..” Sam grumbles. He puts his hand out to stop Danny. “Hit me again, I dare you.” Danny chuckles and reaches for the glass in front of him to finish off his orange juice.

“I don’t want to know.” Their father says as he walks over to the fridge.

Sam gets up from the table and comes over to the two of you. “I really am happy for you two,” He says with a smile. “I was hoping this would happen. I knew from the moment I first saw you two together that it would lead to this.”

“And yet you never told me.” Jake jokes as they hug.

“Didn’t want to jinx anything,” Sam laughs. “So, since you took our engagement photos, can I take yours?”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” Jake chuckles.

-

Later that day, you’re lounging out on the front porch and watching the few cars that drive by the house when the front door opens. Looking behind you, you see Jake stepping out. He gives you a small smile before sitting down in the chair next to you. “What are you doing out here?” He asks.

“Just thinking.” You say as he picks up your hand.

“Please don’t tell me that you’re rethinking any of this.”

You giggle and shake your head. “Never..”

“So what’s got you thinking?”

“Sam is his baby talk..”

“He doesn’t know how to filter his mouth.” Jake says making you laugh.

“Would you want to have a baby though?”

Jake’s eyebrows raise and his mouth falls slightly agape. “Right now?”

“Well no, not necessarily, but eventually.”

Jake smiles and kisses the top of your hand. “I would like to have a baby,” He says. “I think we’d be pretty good at making one.”

You scoff and shove him away making him laugh. “You’re such a dork.”

“Eventually we will have a baby and I am ready whenever you are.”

“Yeah?”

He nods his head and squeezes your hand. “So I did get an email the other day,” He says. “I haven’t responded yet due to circumstances but,” He shifts in the chair and runs a hand through his hair. “I was asked to photograph for a magazine in London. A pretty high profile magazine.”

“Intriguing.” You say as you lean on the arm of the chair. “Which magazine?”

“Vogue,” Jake smiles. “Well.. British Vogue, but still..”

“That’s incredible!” You exclaim. “Are you going to take it?”

“I wanted to talk to you first. I’d be gone for a few days, but I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me?” He says. “You’ve pretty much come on all of the trips with me so I figured, why not come along on this one?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So who do you get the privilege of photographing?” You ask.

“Uh well..” You watch him as he chews on his bottom lip and scratches his head.

“Jake..”

“Now hear me out, it is strictly work.”

“Jacob..” You cock a brow and he sighs.

“She’s a model..”

“Mmhmm..”

“Just a model.. And it’s strictly work..” He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles and looks up at you with the puppy dog eyes. “You’re not going to be jealous, are you?”

“Me? Jealous? Ha!” You laugh and pull your hand away. “Never..”

“So you’ll be nice while we’re there?”

“I will be nice, I promise.” You say as you stand up from the chair. “But the second she flirts, I’m unleashing my claws.”

Jake laughs and pulls you back down to sit on his lap. “Even if she flirts with me, I won’t give her my time.”

“Mmhmm..”

“You are jealous,” He says with a chuckle.

“No, I am not.” You fold your arms over your chest and turn your head away.

“Hey now, I love you. I’m marrying you.” He reaches for your chin and forces you to look at him. “No one is going to get in the way of any of that. Not a creepy vineyard owning old guy and definitely not a supermodel.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” You lean down to kiss him. “Now if you don’t mind, I am going to start looking at wedding dresses.” You climb off his lap and start heading for the front door when you stop and look back at him.

“What?” He says with a slight chuckle.

You shrug your shoulders. “Just imagining you as a daddy..”

Jake leans on the arm and cocks his eyebrow. “Which one?” You chew on your bottom lip and he laughs. “Be careful..” He warns.

Jake stays out on the porch long after you have gone back inside the house. The screen door swings open and his father steps out. “So you’re getting married,” He says as he occupies the empty chair where you had been. “What made you decide that?”

“After talking with Grandpa, I came to the realization that I love her and all I want is her. She’s the one for me.”

His father smiles and reclines back in the chair. “And she’s definitely not pregnant?”

Jake laughs and shakes his head. “No, she’s not pregnant. And even if she was, that wouldn’t be the reason I want to marry her.” He sighs and leans back in his chair as well. “Grandpa told me to not let her go. She’s supposed to give me something that I’ve never had before.”

“And you want to know what that is?”

Jake nods his head. “You know Grandpa and his cryptic talk,” He scoffs.

“Mm,” His father nods his head and rubs his index finger and thumb over his chin hair. “When one ends, another one grows.”

Jake groans. “Another riddle?”

“Pay close attention to (Y/N). I’ve noticed something about her that I’ve seen on your mother a few times.” He pats Jake on the back before standing out of the chair and making his way back inside the house.

______________________________________________________________

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[zushwood]

[up-beattt]

Bruce Springsteen and Clarence Clemons, 1985

Bruce Springsteen and Jake Clemons, 2024 (photo by Rob DeMartin)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

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

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

Word Count: 8502

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

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

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

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

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

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

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.” 

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

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

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

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

“How do you know what I want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…” 

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

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

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

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

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

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

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would it have mattered if I did?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me just as much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got you baby.” 

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

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

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

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout. 

“And how did you cum?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, please, please.” 

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

“Missed you, Jay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was okay with my reality.”

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

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

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you will be.”

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

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @a-reader-and-a-writer @hookslove1592 @mshistorylover @hangmanssunnies @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy

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

[jaeyxns]

Jake arriving to Prada SS24

[clarkkantagain]

jake hobbs by kevin roldan

[luucydacus]

him cutie pie

[anthonyamadeo]

Jake Murphy by Anthony Amadeo

[kasumingo]

[reupload]

GOD Islands meant everything to me

THE TONE ALONE

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Photo © Jake Osborne

Meet the Kākāpō, an Endangered Flightless Parrot That Smells Good, and Looks Like a Muppet

The Kākāpō, a large flightless parrot, which is also called the Owl Parrot and is found in New Zealand.

Photo: Andrew Digby/New Zealand Department Of Conservation

Photo By Jake Osborne

[vanfleeter]

Black Smoke: Chapter 1 - Look At Me

Pairings: Jake x reader Warnings: Smut (minors, please stay away), swearing, a little bit of fluff, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, boudoir photography, (let me know if I missed anything). Author's Note: I saw someone wondering about photographer!jake so I thought I'd try to write one myself. I'm still learning how to smut so bare with me. 1923 may have inspired the ending of this fic sooo I might continue this.. Summary: When you accompany your friend to a photoshoot, you capture Jake's attention and he becomes enamored of you.

Black Smoke Masterlist

Sliding out of the car and closing the door behind you, you look over at your friend, Kylie, who simply smiles at you. She convinced you to come with her to a photoshoot she booked for her business. She’s always been nervous being in front of the camera so of course, like the good friend you are, you went with her to be her hype person.

“You finally get to meet Jake.” She beams. “He’s an amazing photographer.”

Jacob Kiszka. Owner of Black Smoke Photography. He’s most prevalent in outdoor photography, but he offered to shoot her business photos indoors in a studio loft that he owns in the city of Nashville.

Stepping into the studio, you’re in awe of how bright it is with the natural light coming in through the warehouse windows. The total opposite of the usual photos that he takes. For the majority of his photos, they’re dark and moody so finding the studio space full of light and warmth is a complete one-eighty degree turn.

Upon hearing your entrance to the studio, Jake peers over the ledge of the balcony that hangs above the door. His hands grip the railing, the rings on his fingers clinking against the metal. He smiles. “Hey Ky.” He says. “Give me just a couple minutes and I’ll be down.”

“Sure thing Jake!”

Coming down a spiral staircase, Jake stands before the two of you dressed in a white, linen button down shirt with only a few bottom buttons holding it closed at the bottom of his abdomen and a pair of khaki pants cropped at his ankles. Cognac colored loafers adorn his feet. His many rings decorate his fingers while a couple necklaces hang around his neck. His hair hangs down in loose waves stopping at his shoulders.

A bright smile spreads across his face as he moves across the room to you two. “Good to see you again Ky.” He says as they embrace in a hug.

“You too, Jake.” She says. “I want to introduce you to my friend, (Y/N).” She adds when they pull apart. “(Y/N), this is Jake.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He says, extending a hand. The skin of his hand feels rough yet warm against yours and he has a firm but delicate grip.

“You as well,” You say. “I’ve checked out your work. It’s all really good.”

He smiles and retreats his hand. “Thank you.”

“I love how bright it is here.” Kylie says as she looks around the studio. “So different from your normal style.”

“I took a look at the theme, or aesthetic, of your business and it looks very bright and airy so I thought keeping with the theme would make it easier and more comfortable for you.” Jake explains as he follows her through the studio space.

You follow a short distance behind him. You couldn’t help but watch how his biceps flex underneath the fabric of his shirt sleeves. Kylie catches you staring and you immediately look away feeling the slight warmth of your cheeks as you blush. She shoots you a smirk.

“Shall we get started then?” She says as she sets her things down by the table that’s littered with Jake’s equipment.

Jake nods his head and makes his way to the table. He picks up one of the many camera bodies and attaches a lens to it. He turns back towards Kylie and directs her on the stool. “Don’t fully sit on the stool, kind of lean against it with your legs crossed at your ankles.”

“Like this?” Kylie says as she follows his directions.

“Perfect.” Jake says as he snaps a few candid shots as she positions herself against the stool. “Now cross your arms over your chest and give your best serious face.”

During shots and new poses, you’d make silly faces behind Jake to keep Kylie comfortable and confident and bring her out of her shell. When it comes down to the serious poses, you stayed over by the monitor that showed the shots Jake was taking. Each one popped up on the screen until one of you came up. A side profile shot of you as you look at the monitor. Looking over at Jake, you catch him shooting you a smile before he turns back to Kylie. You feel a slight blush on your cheeks again as you turn back to look at the monitor.

After a few more shots, Jake lowers his camera. “How about we take a break?” He says.

“Good, I’m starving anyways.” Kylie says making Jake scoff.

“When are you not?” He says.

Kylie retrieves her purse. “I’m gonna go out and get food. Do you want anything?” Both you and Jake shake your heads. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

“Do you want me to come along?” You ask.

Kylie shakes her head. She glances over at Jake who has gone back to messing with his camera and not paying attention to the two of you. She wags her eyebrows at you. You roll your eyes making her snicker. She pulls out her car keys and heads for the exit leaving you alone with Jake in the studio.

As Jake continues to mess with his camera, adjusting the settings and cleaning off the lens, you walk over to the window and peer outside at the cityscape of Nashville. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden glow on everything it touches. Including you. Jake takes notice of you by the window. The golden hue basking warmly on your face and brightening your eyes. He lifts his camera up to his face and points it at you. He snaps a few shots capturing you in your own little world.

He clicks his tongue like he’s calling a cat. You turn your head with your brows furrowed and he quickly snaps a few more photos.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting some candids.” He says.

“I am not your client today.” You say folding your arms over your chest. “I’m only here as moral support for Kylie.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “Free session on the house.” He shoots you a wink and lowers his camera. You lower your head as you smile and bite down on your bottom lip. “You’re a natural.”

You roll your eyes and look back out of the window. “No, I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t argue with someone who owns a camera and has an eye for this stuff.” He says.

“Oh, cocky much?” You say folding your arms over your chest. “Kylie never mentioned you having such a big ego.”

Jake scoffs. “I do not have a big ego.” He says. “An ego, sure. A big one? Not by a long shot. I just have an eye for seeing naturals.” He walks over to you and reaches his hand out to your face to tuck a strand behind his ear. “And I have an eye for finding beautiful girls.”

You giggle and shake your head. “Big ego and a flirt.” You say. “Do you do this with all of your clients?”

“Oh so you’re my client now?” He inquires. “I thought you were only Kylie’s moral support?”

“I am not your client.” You say as you lean against the window.

“So it wouldn’t be wrong to kiss you since you’re not my client?” He says stepping up in front of you. “I may have been taking photos of Kylie but I’ve been looking at you most of the time.” He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. “This past hour has been pure torture not knowing how soft these lips must feel.” He lifts his eyes to yours. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You look between both of his eyes. Now that you’ve really looked into them you can see that they’re a russet shade of brown. They’re gentle when looking at you. And if eyes could smile, his sure are.

You simply nod your head. Gently he caresses your face in the palm of his hand as he leans down to kiss you. Feeling his lips press to yours you could feel the butterflies erupt inside your stomach. Slowly he pulls away. You open your eyes to find him staring at you. A smile spreads across his face.

“I was right. They are soft.” He says.

A soft giggle escapes you making him chuckle. Stepping away from you he sets his camera on the table. He reaches for your hand and pulls it up to his lips where he presses a soft kiss upon your skin. He smiles when he sees the goosebumps rise along your hand and up your forearm.

Softly and slowly he leaves a trail of kisses up your arm before stopping at your shoulder. He glances up at you with his eyes asking for permission to continue. You simply nod your head and he presses his lips to your neck and trails up to the back of your head. A light gasp slips out and he smiles against the side of your head.

He pulls away slightly and moves back to your lips to kiss you. He drops your hand and moves his hand to cup the back of your neck. He leans in between your legs and presses against you. You can feel how hard he is already. The feeling ignites a spark within your core and the heat builds.

“Is this okay?” He asks as he slips his hand underneath the cotton fabric of your shirt. No words came from your mouth so you nod your head once again. “Uh uh,” He hums. “I need words.” He says stopping the movements of his hands.

“Y… Yes..” You force out. Your own hands cling to the waistband of his pants pulling him as close as you possibly can.

He grabs the ends of your shirt and pulls it off and over your head and drops it to the floor by your feet. You grab his shirt and unbutton the last few buttons of his shirt and slide it off his shoulders and down his arms. He shakes it off his wrists and lets it fall to the floor. He goes to reach for you but pauses.

You raise your eyebrows. “Are you okay?” You ask.

He folds his arms across his chest as he looks you up and down. He rubs his chin as he thinks.

“What’s on your mind, photo boy?” You say.

His eyebrows raise and he looks at you. “Photo boy?”

“I’ll think of something else eventually.”

Jake smiles before turning in his feet and walking over to the table full of his equipment. “Have you ever done boudoir before?”

You shake your head. “I’m hardly ever in front of the camera to begin with.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Basically sexy photos.”

Jake nods his shoulders. “Pretty much.” He says as he grabs a film camera. “Would you be comfortable doing it?”

“Well.. I..”

“You don’t have to,” Jake says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s just a fun, little idea.”

“I could try it..” You say. “But Kylie..”

“Knowing Kylie she probably went to some sit down restaurant, ordered herself a nice big juicy steak and some wine. She does it all the time.” Jake says as he walks back over to you. “Though abandoning her friend with someone she’s hardly met is not like her.”

“Ehh,” You shrug your shoulders. “It’s not the first time.”

Jake laughs. “Well I guess we know different versions of Kylie then..” You crack a smile. “So..” He adjusted the dials on the camera. “Shall we?”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing.” You say as you push off the window.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.”

Jake brings you over to the other side of the room where a couch rests against one wall and a coffee table sits in front of it.

“Lay down on the couch on your back and just relax.”

“Okay..”

As you walk over to the couch and begin to lay down, he stops you. “Wait..” He sets the camera down on the table and approaches you. “If you’re gonna keep your jeans on, we’re gonna make it look sexy–er.”

You giggle at his save. He unbuttons your jeans and pulls them slightly down just enough that they’re still on your hips but showing a little of your underwear. Black lace is what you chose for today. It even matches your bra.

“Well..” Jake clears his throat. He backs away and retrieves his camera. “Now lay down and relax.” You do as you’re told and you lay down on the couch. You shift around a little to make yourself comfortable amongst the red velvety cushions. “Comfortable?” He asks. You nod your head. “Good. Take your arms and kind of drape them over your head. Think of Rose from Titanic.”

You hum in understanding. “Jake, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls…” You recite the line and change out Jack for Jake. “But you know.. Photographing me..”

Jake smiles as he lifts the camera up to his eyes. “French girls don’t compare to you, love.” He says as he presses his index finger down on the button, snapping a photo. “I take it you like Titanic?”

“I love it.” You say, not daring to move just yet. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s okay..” Jake shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t move..”

He climbs onto the couch, straddling your waist. “Lift your chin so you look just slightly behind you.” You follow his direction. “Just like that, perfect.” He snaps another photo.

You can still feel how hard he is when he applies slight pressure to your waist as he continues to straddle your body. He finally climbs off of you and moves away from the couch.

“Feel comfortable enough to take your pants off?” He asks.

You nod your head and slip them off. His jaw nearly falls to the ground when he sees just how wet you’ve become.

“Fuck..” He gasps. He lowers the camera. “I’m so screwed..”

You giggle. “It’s your fault.”

“I uh, I–well..” He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Okay umm.. Uh..”

“Do you want to continue?” You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Jake opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out before he closes it. He picks up the camera again and holds it up to his face. The pose you were in with your legs crossed in front of you while your elbows held you up nearly made him want to put the camera down and fuck you right there.

“Lay your head back..” He says. You do and he snaps another photo. “Take your bra off.” He says, sounding more demanding. “I-If you want to.” He quickly adds.

You could tell you were making him nervous all while turning him on. Not once did you anticipate this ever happening. You barely knew the guy and yet you were nearly naked on a couch inside of his studio while he took photos of you all while hard as a rock inside of his pants. This man wants to fuck you. He’s just bursting at the seams.

Obliging to his order you unclasp your bra and toss it to the floor.

“Good,” He says. “Now lay on your stomach, one arm hanging off the couch.” You follow his instructions. “Look at me. Perfect.” He bends his knees to come down to a better angle and snaps the photo.

Setting the camera on the table, he kneels in front of the couch. “You’re so beautiful.” He tilts your head back to kiss you. “Turn back over.”

You do as he says and roll back over onto your backside. His tongue flicks out between his lips. He cups his left hand around your right breast as he leans down to suck on your left breast. Goosebumps once again cover your skin. A moan falls from your mouth as your head falls against the cushion of the couch.

You slide your hand off the couch and to his body. Slipping your hand underneath the hem of his linen pants you palm his cock eliciting a groan from him. He pulls his lips off of your nipple and looks up at you.

He pulls your hand out his pants and holds it up above your head. “No.. It’s all about you sweetheart.” He says.

“Jakey..” You whimper.

“Jakey?” He says. “No one’s ever called me that before.”

You sit up and grab his face in your hands. “Stop talking and fuck me.”

Almost immediately he pulls you off the couch and swings you onto his waist. He carries her upstairs to the loft.

“I wasn’t expecting this to be up here.” You say as he lays you onto a bed.

“There’s a lot you won’t be expecting.”

He grabs your jeans and pulls them the rest of the way down your legs and tosses them to the floor. “Black really compliments you.” He says before discarding his own pants. He licks his lips as he stares at your underwear. It’s already soaked with your juices. Nudging your legs further apart, he reaches over to grab the fabric of your underwear and drags them down your hips and your legs. He presses the fabric to his nose and inhales.

“Smells good?” You ask.

He nods his head. “Mmhmm.” He hums, making you laugh. He tosses your underwear to the floor and leans over top of you.

“You’re such a pretty girl.” He says as he moves down to kiss you. “My pretty girl.”

“What am I?” You say. “A dog?”

He laughs into the crook of your neck. “I’m nervous.”

“You’re nervous?”

He lifts his head. “No one has ever made me feel the way you make you feel right now.”

You giggle and tangle your fingers in his hair. “Just relax.” You tell him. “And breathe. Do what your body tells you to do.” You brush his hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. “What is your body telling you?”

“I want to touch you..”

You guide your hand down his arm and to his hand that rests on your hip. “Then touch me.” You move his hand from your hip and rests it in between your legs. You feel him ghost his fingertips along your center before using his thumb to rub circles into your clit.

“Does that feel good?” He asks.

You nod your head, your hand gripping tightly to his arm. He inserts his index and middle fingers inside of you. Your mouth falls open as a moan tumbles out.

“Oh…” You gasp.

“You like that?” He says as he slowly pumps them in and out.

“Y-Yes..” You stutter.

Just like he did earlier, he cups your breast with his other hand as he sucks on the other. His tongue laps around your nipple before sucking on it again. He never loses the rhythm of his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

“You’re so warm and slick against my fingers.” He says when pulling away from your breast. “But I want to feel you on my tongue.”

Moving further down the bed he removes his fingers from inside you. You whimper, missing the feel of his fingers. You watch him as he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean. His eyes roll and he groans.

Getting down on his stomach, he doesn’t waste any time as he brings his mouth down to your center. He drags his tongue in a slow lick against your folds.

“Fuck.. Jake..” He hears you moan.

He does it again and curves his tongue to dip in between your inner folds. Your hands fly to his hair and grip lightly to his loose waves. He inserts his fingers alongside his tongue. He’s pulling double duty and you love it. He knows you love it.

“Jake..” You moan. “Jake, I’m–”

He hums against you in response as he keeps working you closer to your climax. He curls his fingers inside of you. He feels your walls clench. “Cum for me..” He says before diving back in.

Slowly the fire in your core burned hotter and hotter. “There it is love.” He says. Like licking an ice cream cone he laps up all of your juices as they spill out from within you. Your thighs are clenched around his head, his free hand digging deeper into your outer thigh as he licks you clean and helps you ride out your orgasm.

Once you have relaxed, he leans back on the bed to admire you. Your chest rapidly rises and falls as you catch your breath. When you look into his eyes, they’re no longer the soft and gentle eyes you saw earlier. Now they’re darker, full of lust and hunger. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth before climbing backwards off the bed.

“Don’t move..” He orders before running back down the spiral staircase. He comes back a minute later with a different digital camera. Resting it on the bed, he grabs hold of your leg and pulls you down the bed and laying your legs around his hips. He grabs the camera.

“Cup your breasts,” He says. “But turn your head to your left, keep your eyes focused straight ahead of you.”

Follow his direction. He watches your hands as they wrap around the soft lumps on your chest. With your head turned and your vision solely focused on a photo hanging on the wall, you can hear the click on the camera.

“Beautiful.” He sighs.

“No one will see these?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Only for my eyes.” He says. He licks his lip and lowers the camera. “I want to try something.”

He climbs back off the bed and walks over to the other side of the room. He retrieves a tripod that rests against the railing of the loft and brings it over to the bed. Bringing it back over to the bed, he sets it up off to the side of the bed and connects the camera to it.

“What do you have in mind?” You ask turning over onto your side to watch him while he works to put his idea together.

“Something I’ve never done before.” He says. He adjusts the settings on the camera and looks through the eyepiece to make sure it looks exactly what he’s envisioned in his head. He straightens up and rests his hands on his hips. “Lay down on your back.” He says. You do as he says and he walks back over to the bed.

He climbs back onto the bed and nudges your legs apart with his fingers before slipping off his boxers..

“Are you filming a sex tape?”

Jake lets out a boisterous laugh and shakes his head. “No, not a sex tape.” He says. “Have you ever seen in movies how the angle of the camera captures two lovers in bed, the girl on the bottom, the guy on the top–classic sex pose?” You nod your head. “He has her one hip propped up on his waist, his hand resting on her thigh,” He explains as he moves you two into said position. “He’s leaning over her as she looks up at him. She’s got the look in her eyes of pure adoration, kind of like how you have it right now.”

“And you want that photo?”

“It would be a classic.” He says.

A smile cracks on your face. “Then let’s do it.”

“But I want to make it look natural.” He says. “I want us to be in the moment.”

You can feel his length rub against you. “Then what are you waiting for?” You say.

Readjusting himself, he guides his cock to your folds and slowly slides inside. Both of you moan in content as you relax into each other.

“You feel so much better wrapped around my cock.” He says. He slightly wiggles his hips before pulling out slightly and pushing back inside. He fits inside of you just perfectly. As if you two were made for each other. “This feel alright?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

You can tell that he’s becoming more confident by his fluid movements. He has one hand holding up your leg on his waist and driving in deeper.

“Jake..” You moan. You link your arms underneath his and dig your fingers into the skin of his back. “Fuck..”

“You’re taking me so well..” He says. He lays an open palm on your lower abdomen. He can feel his cock inside of you which only turns him on more. “I fill you so nicely.”

“Mmmm..” You hum, your eyes fluttering closed. You feel him twitch inside of you, his hands fly to your sides and hold you tighter as he continues thrusting in and of you.

“Babe, I’m getting close.” He says.

Your eyes open to look up at him. His head is thrown back, his eyes screwed shut. “Babe?” You say.

His movements pause and he lowers his head. “What?”

“You called me ‘babe’?”

“Oh I-”

You smile. “I like it.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah?” He leans back down and kisses you. “You’re my babe?”

“Don’t jump too far ahead.” You say. “I said I liked being called ‘babe’.”

He chuckles as he begins moving again. “I like calling you that.” He says.

His thrusts were getting sloppy as he continued on. You can feel the burn again in your core.

“Jake..”

“Yeah baby, I know..”

Both of you hit your climax. You can feel him spill inside you. The warmth of his cum mixing with the warm feeling in your core only made you feel more good. Your back arches pushing your bodies closer together. You both ride it out together as he slows down his thrusting.

Being so distracted by your own orgasm, you were unaware of the camera snapping a photo. Jake’s face is buried in the crook of your neck as he sucks on your skin.

Once you both come down from your climax, he pulls out of you and lays out on the bed beside you. You roll over to lay over his chest. He wraps his arm around your body and pulls the covers over both of you.

“Can I take one more picture?” He asks, eliciting a giggle from you.

“You just can’t stop, can you?”

“You’re just so beautiful.” He says.

You go to sit up to let him get out of the bed but he pulls you back down and shakes his head. “I thought you-”

“With my eyes.” He says. “Where it’ll be permanently.”

You could hear sadness in his voice as he spoke. As if he’ll never see you again after today.

“Jake..” You sit back up. “Are you okay?”

He inhales. “I had fun today,” He says. “With everything, including this…”

“But..” You prompt him to continue going.

“I have to leave..” He says. “I have this opportunity to photograph wildlife in Africa and it’s a great opportunity.”

“Sounds like fun too.” You say smiling down at him. “Just don’t get eaten by lions.”

He scoffs, a smile spreading across his face.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to go?” You say leaning on your elbow.

Jake inhales deeply before exhaling. “It’s going to sound crazy..”

“Nothing is too crazy. Tell me.”

“Being with you today, I don’t ever want to let you go.” He says. “Sex with you was great and it wasn’t rushed. I felt–connected to you.”

“Well all things considered..”

Jake chuckles. “Aside from that literal aspect, I mean..” He sighs. “I know we literally just met today but I felt..something. I want to be with you. I don’t want to leave you.”

You smile. “I’ll still be here when you get back. I ain’t going anywhere.”

Jake pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Come with me.” He says.

“C-Come with… Me?”

Jake nods his head. “There’s something about you. Something that I want to keep with me.”

“Jake, I… Africa is… I mean… You really want me to come with you?”

“If you don’t, I will…” A voice by the stairs comes.

Both you and Jake look over to see Kylie standing by the stairs. A smirk plays on her face as a blush creeps across yours.

“You two definitely had fun while I was gone.”

You hide your face in the crook of Jake’s neck making him laugh.

--

To Be Continued...

[zushwood]

[wildbluesorbit]

This might be my favorite genre of jakedown photography🫣😵‍💫

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Photo Finish

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: I don't really have words for this. @desert-fern and I were chatting about Hangman thots. And this spilled out of my brain.

Warnings: This is just porn. Porn with Plot. Consume at your own risk.

Word Count: 6484

A/N: This is dedicated to @desert-fern, @dakotakazansky and @horseshoegirl! Read and enjoy the thots my darlings!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

It is an unforgiving job, working as a photographer. You'd been all over the world taking pictures for exposes, portraits of world leaders, and scenery. You could name a print material with a portrait on the cover and say you'd taken a picture of that kind. 

It's your first time in New York after six months of working on assignment after assignment for your agency when you're called into your boss’s office and ordered to get a studio ready. You're expecting a shot with supermodels or perfumes. Hell, you've even taken photos of cans of dog food. You're not expecting to hear that the client is the U.S. Navy. Not at all.

The U.S. Navy's recruitment numbers have fallen to an all-time low. They're looking for a propaganda vehicle or five to kickstart recruitment. They've ordered a squadron of pilots to fly to New York and have professional portraits taken. It had been decided it was too risky to have civilian photographers on base, so your company had rented a colossal hangar from the airport for one day. The squadron and their jets would land tonight, and the shoot would happen tomorrow. The information has you reeling and more than a little flustered. The U.S. Navy? As a client? That’s huge. This assignment could make or break your whole career. How do you even start? This shoot is on an awfully quick turnaround for something so big.

Your mind is spinning, thinking of how you could make these spreads work. To begin your prep work, you go to your office, collecting your assistant, stylists, makeup artist, and lighting coordinators. Once everyone is clustered around your office, you fire up your computer and display pictures of each aviator. The Navy has selected six aviators for this spread; they’re all gorgeous. And per the sanitized dossiers you hand out to your team to read, each has risked their lives to serve their country. Of the five men on the dossiers, one keeps catching your attention. His name is Jake, Jake Seresin, and his eyes pierce into you even through the low-quality picture you’ve been given.

“Alright. So how do we do this? The Navy asked for shots of each aviator and their plane in flight suits and uniforms. We’ll have all four jets in the hangar with us tomorrow. Additionally, I want to explore who they are as people. So I think we’ll also do shots of them in formal wear. As a last step, we’ll tie into their sex appeal and do shots of the boys in their flight jackets and dog tags with no shirts. For Lieutenant Trace, I thought we could explore the duality she naturally poses as a highly decorated female Naval Aviator. How does that sound? Any ideas for how we can accomplish that? Start pulling pieces on racks in the bullpen. I want to do a final review of all of the options at 4 o’clock.”

Your stylists, Adam and Lea, are already huddled up and discussing pieces to pull for the formal wear shoot. You can see an unholy gleam in Lea’s eyes as she finds pieces for Lieutenant Trace to wear for the sex appeal shot on her tablet. You grin at their enthusiasm before turning to your lighting techs.

“Seb, Kris. I want you both to head out to the hangar today. I don’t know what the lighting is going to look like. Feel free to start setting up the lighting for the shoot tomorrow. But don’t lock anything down. We’re going to have to share our space with the planes.”

You turn to your assistant, Amy. 

“Ames, go with them. Get an idea of the space we have to deal with. Measurements would be useful. Start visualizing areas where we could lay out a backdrop to do a set of pics without the planes in the background. Scope out everything — the facilities, where we could set up changing booths, a refreshments table, etc. We’ll also probably need to coordinate deliveries from the usual food platters and drinks places. Get an assortment of things that would apply to any dietary restrictions you can think of.”

With that, you turn to the last member of your team, your makeup artist. 

“Hey, Katie. We will want to keep the makeup for this shoot subtle and touch up any blemishes and under-eye circles. That should be it for the boys, but we’ll want to do something eye-catching for the formal wear portion for Lieutenant Trace. So pack accordingly. Go ahead if you want, and head to the hangar with Ames so you can coordinate placement for the makeup station.”

You call your team to attention by ringing the small gong on your desk.

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today. Call me for anything you need. This shoot is important for the studio, and we will have many eyes on us. Here are the credentials for the hangar. Measurements for the aviators are included in the dossier packets. For the formal wear portion of the shoot, pick coordinating colors except for Lieutenant Trace. Good luck!”

The rest of your morning is spent coordinating with the Navy Liasion. During your lunch break, you head to the hangar and help your team as they work there. You pick up sandwiches and drinks for everyone and drop some off for Adam and Lea. You reach the hangar at 1:30 and use your credentials to let yourself in. Unsurprisingly, the hangar is a hive of activity. Amy’s marking down placement points near the bathrooms with a measuring tape, and Katie’s getting a vanity plugged in and organizing her equipment.

Meanwhile, Seb and Kris are testing the lighting. A large swath of the Hangar floor is as yet empty. A clear path has been left from the hangar doors to the open area. The open area is where four F/A-18A Super Hornets are going to sit. You call your team to grab their lunches and catch up with Amy on her progress. It’s your first time delegating so much of the admin work to Amy since she’s the newest on the team, and you’re ecstatic with her progress.

She’s gotten everything organized, including the food and beverage deliveries. When a pair of workmen back in a truck containing the backdrop and the changing rooms, you supervise as they build them and place them where you want them. They’ve just started assembling the backdrop when your phone rings. You step into the afternoon sunshine to take the call. It’s the Navy Liasion. He’s calling to inform you that the squadron will be landing shortly. Sure enough, you can just hear the engines as you hang up and bolt indoors. Amy’s just sending the workmen on their way as you help your team clear the open areas of the hangar and stand near the open hangar door. 

You can feel the thrum of the engines as Four F/A-18As fly in formation and finally land in all their glory. They’re beautiful machines. You can smell the stink of the jet fuel and feel the heat from the engines as they roll into the hangar. The next moments are full of frantic activity as the flight crews help ensure the jets are safely landed. Once all the furor has died down, you finally reach where the aviators have descended from their jets. They’re examining your team's work with eagle eyes that dart to your person as you step closer, your heels echoing as you make your way to the jets. 

They’re even more gorgeous than their pictures indicated, even sweaty with helmet hair as they are. As one, they line up in front of you and salute, introducing themselves with their rank, full name, and callsign. You can hear Amy and Katie’s giggles from behind you as you introduce yourself and your team. The entire time you lay out the plan for the following day, you can feel a set of eyes boring into the side of your face. All the aviators are staring right at you, but Lieutenant Seresin makes you feel like squirming. His green eyes stay on you as you show them the different areas in the hangar and explain the order of the day. Thankfully, they leave the hangar shortly after you tell them their call time for the next morning. 

A couple of hours later, everything is ready to go, thanks to Amy, Seb, Kris, and Katie. The corner near the bathroom has two changing rooms set up. Nearby are spaces for the racks of clothing and the makeup station. It will be perfect for the photoshoot you have in mind. The concrete floors are a little chilly, so you text Lea and ask her to add some of the rugs from storage to the truck. You send her a snap of the current layout so she and Adam know what they’re walking into the following morning. You know she and Adam will pick something that complements the gunmetal gray of the planes and the clothing they’re selecting. Before long, you and your team are packed into the back of two Ubers and heading back to the studio for the final part of your day, evaluating the clothing Adam and Lea have picked.

You’re satisfied as you head home that night. Your team has done an amazing job, and the only thing you have to do is pack your cameras and lenses. You carefully wipe and pack each lens and each camera, working as quickly as possible since you have to be at the hangar with an early 6 AM call time. Amy’s picking up the coffee and breakfast deliveries at 7, and the Squadron will show up at 8 AM sharp.

When your alarm goes off at half past four the next morning, you feel barely rested. Your hair is a bird’s nest atop your head, and your eye bags could put a raccoon to shame.  But you’ve got a busy day ahead of you, so you gulp a scalding cup of coffee and walk zombie-like into your shower. Forty-five minutes later, you’re dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt with heels on your feet and bleary but ready to face the day. You’ve thrown your hair into a French braid snaking down your back and left your makeup and jewelry simple to avoid causing unforeseen sparkles and shadows when Kris and Seb turn the lights on.

Your team has just reached the hangar when you step in. All the lights are on in the early morning haze, and you’re immediately swept up in the preparations. It’s like you’re needed everywhere. You only get fifteen minutes to lay out your camera equipment and hook up the cameras to your laptop before you’re pulled into last-minute adjustment after last-minute adjustment. It feels like barely any time has passed when the aviators swagger through the open hangar door. They’re dressed in khaki uniforms, each holding a hanger with a leather flight jacket.

Adam and Lea direct them to leave their garment bags on an open rack, and you’re off to the races. You start with individual shots of each aviator with their plane and then against the backdrop. You’ve cued up a playlist of Top-40 hits, and you can’t help humming along as you snap away. As expected, it takes a bit for the aviators to warm up to being photographed. Two, Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin, take to posing for the camera like a fish out of water. Lieutenant Fitch follows shortly after them. Then all you needed to get Fanboy to cut loose was get him talking about his favorite tv show. You don’t mind the onslaught of Star Trek facts and figures because Lieutenant Mickey Garcia is adorable once you get him smiling and dancing to the songs playing. 

That leaves you with Lieutenants Trace and Floyd. Lieutenant Floyd goes next, and the first thing he does when he sees you holding the camera is blush. The bashful look on his face makes a soft squeal slip out of Amy’s mouth, and you side-eye your assistant with your fiercest glare to get her to chill out. Thankfully, Lea drags her away to help with some of the clothing. There’s no need to make the sweetheart even more uncomfortable. Much like Lieutenant Garcia, you try to get him talking. And it works, at least until Lieutenant Seresin opens his mouth and says,

“C’mon, Baby On Board. A pretty girl’s taking your picture, and you can’t even smile? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, at least for you. You should enjoy it while it lasts.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising at how rude he is and are about to open your mouth to tell him to get out of your field of vision when Lieutenant Floyd does it himself.

“Why, Bagman? Are you afraid that if I start posing for real, all the girls will dump you as fast as possible for me instead?”

You have to stifle your giggles as Lieutenant Seresin blinks wide-eyed at Lieutenant Floyd before walking away. 

“That’s a great idea, Bob!” Lieutenant Trace is never one to leave an opportunity to cheer on her WSO.

That’s what breaks the ice between you and Lieutenant Floyd. You feel his solo plane shots have turned out better than the others. The final aviator in uniform to photograph is Lieutenant Trace. But no matter what you do, you can’t get her to loosen up. 

“Alright, everyone. Let’s take fifteen. Adam and Lea, can you get the Lieutenants in their formal wear while I finish up with Lieutenant Trace?” 

That clears the gentlemen away and leaves you and Lieutenant Trace by the planes. That’s when you finally see a fraction of the tension she holds in her shoulders drain away. She’s still standing stiffly but no longer in full parade rest. You turn the music up, put on ABBA, and pray that the music finally gets her to unwind. It takes a bit, and Lieutenant Bradshaw, now wearing a navy blue tuxedo, wiggling his hips to the beat but unwind she does. He gives you a wink before shimmying away. You can see the rest of your team laughing as the aviators pull out their silliest dance moves. 

After finishing up Lieutenant Trace’s final uniform pictures, you leave her in Lea and Katie’s capable hands and start taking the solo shots of the men. They’re all dressed in navy blue tuxedos with white shirts and shiny black dress shoes. There isn’t a tie in sight, and the jackets are perfectly tailored to their figures. You can’t help the impressed looks you give them and mentally note to compliment Lea and Adam later. Everything is going well until you start to see slack-jawed looks where the lieutenants had been smoldering into the camera. You turn and grin satisfactorily as Lieutenant Trace steps forward. Lea had selected a gorgeous crimson and burgundy gown, and Katie had chosen to leave her hair in loose curls. You’re not surprised at the boys’ awe. She looks breathtaking and like her callsign in all its fiery glory. The contrasting color combinations as she joins the boys look fantastic in the pictures. 

The final set of pictures happens after a lunch break. The gentlemen are only too eager to slip off their shirts, though you can hear Bob pleading with Lea to spare him. You wish him luck, as you know from experience that Lea’s not one to give in easily. The only other aviator who looks discomfited is Lieutenant Trace. You pull her aside.

"Lt. Trace. How would you feel about doing a shot wearing just one of the men's jackets, some heels, and jewelry? You don’t have to wear one that one of the guys has worn today. Lea and Adam brought plenty of spares."

"Please, call me Natasha. And no. I'm not doing that."

"Natasha, I have a feeling I know why, but would you tell me?" Her shoulders surround her ears as you try to reason with her.

"I'm not going to wear that just to act as the sole piece of eye candy in this group. I got here by working just as hard, if not harder, than all of them. I won't negate all my hard work with a pin-up pose on Navy propaganda."

"Thank you for telling me that. I'm not going to pressure you into doing this. But, I would like to bring one item to your consideration. You think taking a picture like this will negate your hard work. Doesn't that negate your inherent sense of femininity? You're a fighter pilot. Yes. One of the best of the best. But you're also a woman. And to me, that's one of your biggest strengths. Girls walking into Navy recruitment offices deserve to know they can be kick-ass officers and beautiful too.”

You take a breath, cataloging the emotions flitting across her face.

“I'm not asking you to do this shot because you're beautiful. As we both know, you are. I'm asking you to do this shot to show the world that you can be one of the best and still be feminine. Be strong and delicate. Sweet and savage. I want you to show the world that serving your country doesn't mean you have to only act like men. Women can serve and do everything that a man can without compromising anything. Be it their looks, their career, or their femininity."

Your words have resonated with her. You can see the figurative light bulb go off in her head as she resolutely nods, gathers up the skirts of her gown, and walks right towards Lea like a woman possessed. You grin and proceed with taking shots of the others. But this time, it’s Lieutenant Seresin that you’re having problems with. He’s stiff like his charm has melted away. You switch to the others and finish their shots easily. Even Natasha stuns in just the oversized blazer. You take a break and review the pictures on your laptop. They’re all perfect. You’ll need a day or so to clean up any small defects, but other than that, they’re exactly what you were looking for. The Navy will be pleased with the results, you hope.

You just need this one set of pictures from Lieutenant Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman, and you can finally go home and take off your heels and bra. Your irritation grows as you attempt to take the pictures you need five times. Your groan of exhaustion and irritation is far longer and louder than it should be. That’s when you start dismissing your team and the Daggers.

“Head on out, all of you. We have to clean up the hangar by the day after tomorrow when the Daggers leave. I will finish up these photos with Lieutenant Seresin, and we should be following you shortly.”

The Daggers all scramble to change, and it's less than half an hour later when you say farewell as the Daggers and your team file out the Hangar door and close it behind them. That’s when you’re left alone with the one man who’s been driving you crazy all day. You try, futilely, to get him to pose how you want, but no matter what you say and how you move him, the pictures don't turn out like you want them to. 

Partway through the latter half of the photo shoot, you'd switched to having all of the Daggers standing against the backdrop. You're regretting that decision now. 

You're done, and the blonde idiot is just standing there and smirking at you. In the studio light, you can see every ridge of his abs and the downy hair dotting his torso. You kick your heels off and let your hair out of its braid. After so long in the tight braid, it feels great to let your scalp relax.

You stalk up to Lieutenant Seresin and grab hold of his arm.

"Right. Let's make this easy on both of us. I will position you how I want you, and you won't move. Okay?"

"Darlin', just tell me to jump, and I'll ask you how high."

And now he's trying to flirt with you. Great. You roll your eyes and position his head and arms as you want him. This close, you can smell his cologne, the cedar and plum scent wafting from his skin. It's an expensive scent that is ever so inconsistent with his personality. Thankfully he doesn't fight you as you position him. 

You could cry. You're so relieved. You are finally getting the needed pictures, and Lieutenant Seresin is cooperating. His eyes still track you as you stalk barefoot back and forth from the laptop to the lights, all with your camera in tow as you make small adjustments. But you don't feel their weight as self-consciously anymore. 

In the final pose, you press on his stomach to get him to straighten his back, and your entire world seems to freeze. His abs are taut, the light dusting of hair soft against your fingers as you glance up at his face. His lips are bitten red as his eyes peer into you. It's electric being this close to him. Something is yearning in his eyes when you step away and take the final pictures. 

Your face is hot as you walk back to the table with your laptop and examine the pictures. You're exhausted, but you've finally done it. Of all the pictures, Lieutenant Seresin's looks the best. His photos exhibit strength, passion, and raw sexuality, exposing a stripe of his taut torso and dog tags. 

"Damn, darlin'. I knew you were a good photographer when I looked up your work before we flew to New York for this, but I had no idea how good you were. These pictures. They're something else."

You startle at his voice, emanating from near your ear, and jolt out of your seat. You nearly fall, but he catches you, steadying you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You gulp as you’re pressed against his chest. He's so close that you can count the flecks of gold swimming in his green eyes. You can't keep your gaze from trailing over his face, from his eyes down to his lips, and back up again. 

"Sweetheart, tell me if I'm reading you wrong, but it looks like you want to kiss me. And I know I want to kiss you. I have since I saw you for the first time yesterday."

You can't keep yourself from nodding at his words. But he's watching you like a hawk and catches your movements. So it's hardly a surprise when he trails his other hand up your side and pinches your chin before slanting his mouth over yours. 

He kisses as he flies, you think. Precise and pointed, each brush of his tongue against your calculated to make your cunt clench and throb with need. You're wet, embarrassingly so. He doesn't pull away until your lips are swollen from the rough kiss. 

Your chest heaves as he traces his finger across your lips. He's got a smug smirk on his face. You pull away from him, carefully selecting your video camera from all your camera equipment, and return to his plane. You turn on the lights, dimming them until there is just enough light to throw the area in the jet's shadow in relief in your camera, hit record, and beckon him to come to you.

"Lieutenant, it's been a bit since I've had some fun. What would you say if I suggest we make a movie?"

His grin is salacious as he lets the leather jacket fall to the ground and tugs you back into his arms.

"Baby, it'd be my pleasure."

Your answering laugh transforms into a moan as he kisses roughly down your throat, paying special attention to your pulse point. His talented hands trail up and down your waist, nimble hands rucking your blouse up from your skirt until he can finally touch your bare skin. Your moans as he traces patterns across your ribs are muffled in his kiss.

"Jake."

Your voice is breathy and high as you try to get his mouth back on yours. But when you look at his face, something is commanding in his gaze.

"Take your shirt off, baby. Let me see what you're wearing."

You tug your shirt off, thankful there aren't any buttons or ties to impede your progress. Jake’s groan at the sight of the lace covering your breasts sends goose bumps over your skin.

His voice is reverent as he walks around you.

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

He stops before you, pressing his thumb between your parted lips. He dips it in until it's wet with your pooling saliva and drags it down your throat. His finger drags over the soft flesh of your breasts, leaving a cool, damp trail as he pays special attention to the peaks of your nipples. 

He continues walking, stopping at your back and dragging you in until your back is flush against his chest. He positions you with both hands until you're centered with the camera. He keeps up a filthy litany of praise as he carefully uses his thumbs to drag your bra cups down, sending your tits spilling free. His hands immediately find their way to fondle and caress them, calloused fingers kneading and squeezing until your hips are canting unconsciously, searching for additional stimulation. 

His smile is filthy when he finally pulls you away, intertwining your fingers with his and leading you to his plane.

"Put your hands on my plane, baby. And whatever you do, don't take them off."

You can't resist your soft moan as you do exactly what he says after unfastening your bra. You can't see his face, but you can feel his lips in the hollow behind your ear as he grinds his stiff cock against your ass. 

"Stay there, baby. Gonna take these trousers off so you don't get in trouble if we make a mess."

Your nipples are pebbled in the cool air as you wait for Jake to return to you. You can hear the clink of the belt buckle and the rustle of fabric as he drags the garment off before padding back to you. His hands trail teasingly over your sensitive skin as he brackets your waist. His thumbs rub soothingly at your waist as he peppers kisses across your bare shoulders. Jake then carefully drags the zip at the back of your skirt down and eases it off your hips.

It pools to the ground at your feet, and you shudder at the feeling of his hand on your ass as he collects it and sets it on a chair in your line of sight. He's gorgeous. You can see every line of his muscles and the bulge of his erect cock in his boxers. The only thing you're wearing now is your thong. He slides the flimsy lace off, and that's when you feel his breath across your hole.

"Oh, baby. You're so wet. Wet for your Lieutenant, huh?"

He blows a stream of air over you, and you can feel your hole clench at the sensations. 

"What do you want me to do to you, baby? How do you want to cum? On my tongue? On my fingers? On my cock? You gotta tell me, sweetheart."

Your voice is breathy as you babble, "All of them, Jake! I want your tongue, your fingers, and your cock. It's been so long since I came. Please!"

He kisses your shoulder before kneeling and burying his tongue between your thighs. Each brush has you practically sobbing with pleasure. It's been so long since you came that it's only a few minutes before his tongue brings you to the brink of your orgasm. You're already chanting his name, your moans echoing through the hangar.

"Cum," he growls, his mouth still sealed to your cunt, and you're only too happy to comply, your hands scrabbling for something to squeeze on as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his tongue.

He pulls away after a few minutes and turns you around. His mouth is on you instantly, nipping at your breasts before he kisses you hard. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh as you sink to your knees and free him from the constricting fabric.

It's only fair that you return the favor. So you start with kitten licks flicking across the head of his cock. Each tender pass of your tongue has him moaning. It's not long before his hands find their way into your hair, holding the loose strands in a ponytail at the back of your head. You use the extra leverage to begin deep-throating him in earnest. You use as much suction and saliva as possible, moaning wantonly as he fucks your mouth. His pants and grunts send heat pooling into your cunt as he approaches his orgasm. But before you can convince him to come on your tongue, he jerks himself off over your tits, spurting his release over your skin in hot thick ribbons.

There is a feral look in his eyes at the sight of you like that on your knees, and Jake lopes over to your cameras, carefully grabbing one. He drapes his dog tags around your neck and carefully snaps pictures of the pearl necklace he'd given you. He lays the camera onto the chair before coming back to you.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Your consent is less words and more a cock-drunk mewl, but Jake interprets it correctly.

"Can you get on all fours for me?"

You're only too eager to comply, positioning yourself under his eager hands as he takes his spot against your ass.

"I don't have any condoms, baby. How do you want to do this?"

"I'm on the pill, Jake. Please, fuck me. Fuck me raw."

He groans before pressing himself inside you. The slow drag of his big cock as it presses into you has your pulse racing. Jake keeps the pace purposefully slow, using his hands at your hips to hold you still as he deliberately fucks into you. It's so good that each press has you screaming, and you've long since reached the cliff of your orgasm. But what Jake's giving you just isn't enough. That's when you start wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts.

The first heavy smack of his palm against your ass has you freezing completely, caught in the pain-pleasure-pain sensation his hand is wringing out of you. The second has you moaning, your pussy fluttering around his length. His groan is near musical as he continues to smack your ass. Each smack brings you closer to your orgasm, and you're practically begging for it now. You wail when he begins to fuck you again in earnest. His balls smack against the hot skin of your ass as you finally let yourself cum. 

Your orgasm is so strong and intense that you black out. When you come to, you're cradled against Jake's chest, his hand tracing lazily over your back. You're both still under his jet. You prop yourself up on his chest with shaking arms and groan at the sensation of cum dripping out of you. It’s several long moments before you rise carefully on wobbly legs. But the sight you see when standing has your cunt clenching in need again. Jake’s torso is now covered in droplets of the mixture of both of your cum. You grab your camera and take a picture of that too.

Jake grins as he collects the bundle of your clothes and follows behind you to the bathroom. You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips as you see yourself in the mirror. He’s marked up your decolletage, and now is when you can feel the painful sting in your ass. 

“God, baby. Let me take a picture of your ass? It looks beautiful. You can see my whole hand on it.”

You groan as he presses a kiss against the sore cheek before positioning you and taking the pic. All you can see is the globe of your ass, the handprint, and the cascade of your hair down your back.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick the wrong calling, Jake?  You could’ve been a fantastic photographer if you’d chosen to.”

“Oh, I’m sure, darlin’. I love flying too much to regret my decision. And flying brought me to you.”

You grin before beginning to clean yourself up. Jake can’t resist kissing you, and you can’t resist kissing him back, either. Before long, you’re all clean and dressed in your underwear, blouse, and skirt again. Jake even has your shoes and chivalrously kneels to slide them onto your feet. He’s back in his trousers, this time sans the leather jacket. You can’t resist trailing your fingers across his skin and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him. But you have to break away from him. You only add to his current look by slinging his dog tags around his neck.

Back in the hangar, you’re packing up your cameras after ensuring your home movie is saved when the door to the hangar opens. It’s a security guard, and you’re glad he didn’t pop in earlier.

“Hello, miss. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is alright.”

“Yes, everything is fine, officer. I just finished a photo shoot with my last client, and we’ll leave shortly.”

"Alright, miss. We have to restrict access to the hangar at 11 pm. It's about 9:30 now, so finish up and head on your way."

You can hear Jake opening the curtain to the changing room behind you and can see the Officer's position stiffen as he catches sight of the medals on his breast.

"Sir, apologies, I wasn't aware that the client she mentioned was military."

He's falling over himself, and you can see the smug smirk on Jake's face as he grins and walks the officer out. You can't help grinning as you finish packing your lenses and begin unplugging your laptop after saving all the footage you’d captured today. You know Jake is back when you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You lean easily back into his expensive-smelling embrace and can't resist sagging against him for a few moments.

"It's been a long day, huh, darlin'?" He presses a kiss against your jaw. "Let's get you packed up and home."

You smile at the new, softer side of him and kiss his jaw.

"I'm all packed up. Walk me to my car?"

"'Course, sugar. Give me your camera bag. D'you need to check on anything else before we head out?"

You pad over to all the electrical outlets, hitting the switches on power strips to ensure nothing is still on. The final place you check via phone flashlight is the area under Jake's jet. You're wearing all of your clothing. You just want to make sure you haven't made a mess with your extracurricular activities.

"I cleaned it all up already, baby. It was when you were knocked out after your orgasm." 

You startle, having grown used to his presence over the past few hours.

"Then let's head out?" 

You relinquish your camera bag to him, keeping your oversized tote on your shoulder as the two of you stride out of the hangar. You lead him to the small parking lot to the side and pop the trunk for your car, thankful you'd decided to drive to the airfield. 

"Let me give you a ride to your hotel. It's the least I can do after keeping you so late."

"Darlin', I should be thanking you. I haven't cum like that in a long time."

You've seen the man completely naked and writhed in pleasure at his touch. You shouldn't be so flustered in his presence. But you can't explain the catch in your breath as he opens the driver's side door for you before loping around to the passenger side and settling in. Everything between you and Jake doesn't feel like the aftermath of a hot frantic sexual encounter. It feels like a date.  You feel light and easy as you cruise back into the city. The silence between the two of you is comfortable. It’s not long before you drop him off in front of his hotel. He presses a kiss against your lips before swaggering in. And you head home to your small New York apartment, feeling the ghost of his presence as you go.

The next morning, you’re glad you chose to work from home because the first pictures you edit are the ones you’d taken of Jake and the ones he’d taken of you as well as your home movie. You can’t resist fingering yourself as your moans and his grunts spill out of your computer speakers. You don't have to do much editing there, but you carefully load the incriminating footage onto two flash drives — one for you and one for him. The photos for the Navy, too, are edited in no time flat. 

It's in the afternoon when you head into the studio. When you get in, you're surprised to see all the Daggers, your boss, your team, and two Admirals waiting for you. Your boss runs the show, introducing and greeting them before the floor is ceded to you. You show the assembled guests the pictures you'd taken for the Navy. 

The pictures are well received, especially the photos of Lieutenant Trace. You wink cheekily at her as Admirals Simpson and Mitchell praise the juxtaposition of those shots. As you show the last picture, you can finally breathe. Your boss is proud, especially as the Admirals turn to her and approve the pictures. But you have one final set of pictures to deliver.

"Lieutenant Seresin, apologies. I found this in my bag this morning. It was lying in the changing room when I looked through it to ensure everyone had taken their things. It must've fallen out of the pocket of your flight jacket."

His smirk is salacious as he accepts the flash drive from your hand, apologizing for leaving it there. You hand him a note, too, and leave the room. You would pay to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve written on it.

Jake -  Thanks for last night. Call me the next time you're in New York. I'd love to do it again. It certainly was a photo finish. XXX - XXX - XXXX

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

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jake russell by brian kaminski