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sometimesanalice · 11 months

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Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up.

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em! 💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites.

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him.

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself.

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings.

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them. The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day.

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back.

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.”

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now.

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer.

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins.

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head.

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you.

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat.

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.”

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table.

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.”

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom.

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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batboyblog · 3 months

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Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week.

January 19-26 2024

The Energy Department announced its pausing all new liquefied natural gas export facilities. This puts a pause on export terminal in Louisiana which would have been the nation's largest to date. The Department will use the pause to study the climate impact of LNG exports. Environmentalists cheer this as a major win they have long pushed for.

The Transportation Department announced 5 billion dollars for new infrastructure projects. The big ticket item is 1 billion dollars to replace the 60 year old Blatnik Bridge between Superior, Wisconsin, and Duluth, Minnesota which has been dangerous failing since 2017. Other projects include $600 million to replace the 1-5 bridge between Vancouver, Washington, and Portland, Oregon, $427 million for the first offshore wind terminal on the West Coast, $372 million to replace the 90 year old Sagamore Bridge that connects Cape Cod to the mainland,$300 million for the Port of New Orleans, and $142 million to fix the I-376 corridor in Pittsburgh.

the White House Task Force on Reproductive Healthcare Access announced new guidance that requires insurance companies must cover contraceptive medications under the Affordable Care Act. The Biden Administration also took actions to make sure contraceptive medications would be covered under Medicare, Medicaid, CHIP, and Federal Employee Health Benefits Program. HHS has launched a program to educate all patients about their rights to emergency abortion medical care under the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act. This week marks 1 year since President Biden signed a Presidential Memorandum seeking to protect medication abortion and all federal agencies have reported on progress implementing it.

A deal between Democrats and Republicans to restore the expand the Child Tax Credit cleared its first step in Congress by being voted out of the House Ways and Means Committee. The Child Tax Credit would affect 16 million kids in the first year and lift 400,000 out of poverty. The Deal also includes an expansion of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit which will lead to 200,000 new low income rental units being built, and also tax relief to people affected by natural disasters

The Senate Foreign Relations Committee voted for a bill to allow President Biden to seize $5 billion in Russian central bank assets. Biden froze the assets at the beginning of Russia's war against Ukraine, but under this new bill could distribute these funds to Ukraine, Republican Rand Paul was the only vote against.

The Senate passed the "Train More Nurses Act" seeking to address the critical national shortage of nurses. It aims to increase pathways for LPNs to become RNs as well as a review of all nursing programs nationally to see where improvements can be made

3 more Biden Judges were confirmed, bring the total number of Judges appointed by President Biden to 171. For the first time in history the majority of federal judge nominees have not been white men. Biden has also appointed Public Defenders and civil rights attorneys breaking the model of corporate lawyers usually appointed to life time federal judgeships

#good news #thanks Biden #Joe Biden #Democrats #politics #us politics #climate change #abortion #reproductive rights #child tax credit #judges

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mrrharper · 25 days

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Personal Muscle, Uniform Included

Logan sat in his living room, looking out the window and ignoring all the e-mails waiting for his response. He watched as Lt. Storm paced in front of the house and fiddled with his protein shake. Just 15 minutes ago Storm finished a workout session, leaving his muscles pumped and sweaty, which was exactly how Logan enjoyed him.

Logan stood up and walked out of the house to see Storm finish his shake and put on his sunglasses. Storm noticed Logan on the porch and approached him. He stood straight and saluted.

"Commander. Your guard is ready."

"Good", Logan responded and put his hand on Storm's bulging biceps. The soldier didn't react to his touch. "You know what's on the agenda today?"

"Yes, sir", Storm replied, his voice low and gruff. Logan stood inches from him, inhaling his sweaty musk and massaging his arms. "I will be guarding your residence until 1900, when I will accompany you during your meeting with Mr. Janson."

Logan nodded, then licked the sweat off Storm's neck. "Exactly. Now assume your position, lieutenant." He gave Storm's pecs one more squeeze before walking towards the door and back into the house. Storm meanwhile moved into his default position - to the side of the entrance - then clasped his hands behind his back and stood there, not moving an inch, like a statue, guarding Logan's home.

Lieutenant Ryder Storm. 6'5, 260 pounds. Logan was pretty sure that wasn't his real name, but he didn't really care. What mattered was not his name, but that this behemoth of a man was completely under his control.

Many might think capturing and taking control over an American soldier would be a tall task. But well, it wasn't Logan's fault the Army made his job much easier by brainwashing Storm first. Both in that normal way of bombarding him with blunt propaganda and reshaping his personality during training, and in the unusual way of implanting a mind control chip on the back of his neck and connecting it to his nervous system.

As it is often the case with leading a fairly illegal enterprise, the government might want to disrupt one's dealings. And this was exactly what happened one day when a Special Forces squad entered one of Logan's undisclosed locations. The incident wasn't very destructive, no incriminating evidence found its way into the soldiers' hands.

Even better, one of the squad members lost his way and stepped into a small storage hall that Logan used as a trap. He then had the soldier transported to his residence where he began his work.

Discovering that Storm's thoughts were being tightly controlled by a mind control chip was like winning a lottery. He quickly gained control over this fascinating piece of army technology. First, he sent a few signals to the soldier's command to make sure they wouldn't even think of recovering him. Then things got interesting.

Logan spent hours untangling the Army's programming and rewiring it so that Storm would be fearlessly devoted to him, and not any of his previous superiors. The process was a bit messy, but not as hard as Logan expected. It was surprisingly easy to use the Army's conditioning that made Storm an obedient weapon to turn him into Logan's enforcer.

And that was the extent of his original plans. Make the muscular soldier his personal security guard. The criminal underworld he was dealing with on the regular wasn't known for its high regard for bodily autonomy, and having a brick wall of a man standing right beside you really helped during talks and negotiations.

Logan laid on the couch, on the phone with a subcontractor who trying really hard to backtrack on their side of the contract. It's been annoying dealing with the guy. This was a part of a project he expected to go through seamlessly and without drama. The reality turned out to be much more irritating.

Storm entered the living room, checking up on Logan.

"Is everything in order, sir?"

"Yes, it is.", Logan replied after muting the phone conversation. He looked at Storm, how tight the shirt he wore looked like on his built upper body. That’s when an idea came to him.

"After I give you a sign, you will say loudly 'Ramirez has been dealt with, sir.' You understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!" There was no visible reaction on Storm's face, his voice steady and unemotional. Logan grinned and went back to his call.

"Well, I still have a problem understanding your issue." He furrowed his brow. This guy has been really getting on his nerves. Then he looked at his soldier and nodded. Storm understood the signal and spoke, his voice sounding almost like a threat.

"Ramirez has been dealt with, sir." Storm stood at attention with his military boots slamming against the floor, making his presence known both to Logan and to everyone on the other side of the line.

"Well, thank you, lieutenant. You're dismissed." Storm went back to his spot in front of the door and Logan listened to the silence coming from his phone.

"Sorry for that, where were we?"

And this wasn't enough. Okay, these words might give off the wrong impression. The plan was working. Lt. Ryder Storm was the perfect bodyguard, obeying every order coming from Logan, his loyalty always clearly visible, his execution always perfect, which was great news for him and made his work much easier.

Storm was his perfect, most valuable asset. Just the thought of Storm, this mountain of muscle that intimidated the shit out of everyone who encountered him, was obeying his every word made him instantly hard. At first, he ignored this feeling, but then he realized - there was nothing limiting him. Why should he restrict himself in what he did with Storm?

And so he stopped restricting himself.

Until then Storm had one mode of operation - an emotionless soldier. And Logan set out to addi another one. He spent a few nights trying to figure out the intricacies of the mind control chip that was implanted in the the back of Storm’s neck. And strangely enough, it turned out the Army found a way to adjust a soldiers' sexuality. Why was that even an option? Logan didn't care (although this might be interesting to investigate another time) but again, it made his job way easier.

He was very proud of the results he achieved. With a simple preprogrammed command Storm would turn from a stern-faced machine to Logan's lover. From that point onwards the soldier spent nights in Logan's bedroom, embracing his commanding officer or getting dominated by him in bed. He ate breakfasts with him, sometimes watched movies on the couch with him. It added the romance that Logan wanted.

And he made sure Storm was one horny man in uniform who always went along with Logan's kinks and desires.

Logan decided he was finished with calls for the day. He had people who would take care of that for the rest of today. He looked outside the window and saw Storm standing beside the door, still as a statue, yet ready to attack. Logan stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it and looked at his enforcer to see if that would provoke any reaction.

But there was none. Storm stood still, his behavior not influenced by Logan's sudden appearance next to him. Which was exactly how he was supposed to behave. And Logan was in a mood to exploit that. He stood close to Storm, just inches from his massive chest, and slowly slid his hand under the soldier's t-shirt.

Storm showed no sign of discomfort or arousal, he barely showed any signs of life. So, Logan continued, exploring Storm's clearly developed abs and meaty chest, the muscles moving under his fingers. Storm's skin was warm and slightly sweaty, his body had a very masculine scent, and Logan loved it.

As he explored Storm's body he knew he wanted more.

"Tell me, soldier, what are the chances of an imminent threat appearing within the next hour?"

"Rather low, no foreign activity detected, sir." Storm responded in his standard emotionless and low voice. Logan groaned as he licked his guard's neck and beard, then said:

"Okay, fuck it. Storm, come with me." He then quickly stepped back inside and stood in the living room. Storm followed right behind him.

"Take off your shirt. Leave the sunglasses and dog tags on." Logan barked an order and watched as Storm uncovered his sculpted upper body in one swift motion.

"Wait, I have another idea," Logan said, devouring Storm's chest with his eyes. "Put the shirt back on and this time rip it off your body."

Without a word the soldier picked the t-shirt from the floor and put it on, before ripping it into pieces with his strong arms. Logan, now extremely turned on, came closer to Storm and put his face in between his pecs, taking in Storm's meaty chest and musky smell. Then he had another idea.

He laid down on the floor and said "Storm, start doing push-ups and position yourself so that my face is directly under your chest."

"Sir, yes sir!" Storm saluted and dropped to the floor, putting his arms on both sides of Logan's head. He then began doing push-ups, and every time he lowered his body, Logan would lick his pecs, tasting the sweaty skin and chest hair. Storm meanwhile didn't react to anything Logan was doing. He just kept pushing his body, up and down, up and down, grunting after each push-up, which Logan found insanely hot.

After a while Logan couldn't control himself. He moved his body so that he was facing Storm directly. He then waited for the right moment and when the soldier's face was down he moved quickly and kissed Storm. And that was his trigger - Storm stopped moving and instead collapsed onto Logan, kissing him passionately.

#soldier #soldier mind control #soldier reprogramming #small dom big sub

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unprettyg1rl · 1 year

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I’m reading a book on the history of invention and how our cultural views of masculinity vs femininity affect our progress and holy shit if women’s needs and preferences were taken seriously we would’ve been using electric cars since the late 1800s instead of just starting to use them now.

In “Att uppfinna världen” (Mother of Invention in the English translation) by Katrine Marçal there is a chapter dedicated to the process of inventing the modern automobile, where I read that there were multiple ways of constructing a car when the invention was relatively recent, as the field was still open to experimentation. Petrol wasn’t an obvious choice for fuelling the engine – in fact, around the year 1900 a third of all cars in Europe were electric cars, and the percentage was even bigger in America. Electrically powered cars were superior to petrol-fuelled ones in many ways: they were quieter, didn’t expel smelly gas, much safer and more reliable, and easy to start and control from the driver’s seat. Cars fuelled by petrol, on the other hand, were loud, more unreliable and required a lot more maintenance, and to start the engine one had to do some serious manual labour involving a crank – which would often leave you sweaty and with oil stains on your clothes, plus a constant risk of causing an explosion if you weren’t careful enough. Naturally, women preferred the former, being more convenient and comfortable and thus more suited to their travel needs, whereas the petrol-fuelled car was marketed as the more adventurous, macho choice for men.

The one downside to electric cars was that the battery didn’t last for longer journeys, which in the case for women wasn’t that much of a problem since the majority mainly just made trips within the city or town. This was also an issue that could’ve been fixed, and there were many plans to do so, mainly infrastructure-related ones like battery-switching stations and developing better battery solutions. There were even plans for a net of rentable electric cars for anyone to use, and electric trains, trams, and taxis for public transport (seems very ahead of its time, doesn’t it? A much more environmentally conscious system than our good ol’ “everyone has one or multiple cars that individually expel copious amounts of greenhouse gasses” method). However, investments were too few since the male-dominated society deemed these “women’s cars”. After all, a real man isn’t soft, safe and comfortable – he cranks his own car to life and makes a lot of noise as he travels. A report from 1916 by the magazine Electric Vehicle stated that “The thing that is effeminate, or that has that reputation, does not find favor with the American man. Whether or not he is ‘red-blooded’ or ‘virile’ in the ordinary physical sense, at least his ideals are. The fact that anything from a car to a color is the delight of the ladies is enough to change his interest to mere amused tolerance.”

Like, it’s insane that values such as comfort, safety and convenience were seen as “feminine” and thus dismissed, leading to petrol-fuelled cars completely taking over the market in the end. Imagine what the world would’ve looked like if women were the standard instead of men. It really pains me to think how much damage we’ve done to the planet just because of men’s stubborn macho ideals.

(a lot of this research is quoted from The Electric Vehicle: Technology and Expectations in the Automobile Age by Gijs Mom, a book I’m now very interested in reading in full)

#feminism #radical feminism #climate change #environment #radfem #electric cars #fun fact is that eventually some of these aspects (such as comfort) were developed in petrol cars as well #but by then they were already dominating the market and there was no chance people would make the switch back to electric

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wannaeatramyeon · 10 days

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Lookism with Reader: Subway Stumble

Jake, Gun, Goo. G/N. Super short and a lil fluffy.

With a screech of the subway's brakes, you stumble off balance, face planting straight into the chest of your companion. For most, it might have been a soft landing, except the wall of hard muscle makes it anything but. You look into his face-

Jake Kim chuckles, and you immediately scrunch your nose.

"Don't-" you warn, but it's too late.

"Falling for me?" He grins, toothy and pleased, chuckling at his own cheesy line and you roll your eyes, giving him a gentle elbow in the stomach.

"Shut-"

Your retort is cut off when you stumble again at the train lurching forward. Jake's hand darts out, cobra quick, steadying you, pulling you closer, and resting on your waist.

He leans down, voice low, tone amused, breath hot in your ear. "Careful, Y/N."

Gun Park raises an eyebrow, smirk on his lips.

Lauding his own superior balance over you. His body completely still, feet planted firmly, unaffected by the swaying of the train.

You throw him a withering glare, which you thought worked well... until you trip once more into him.

"Stop that," he snaps, exasperated at your poor form. His hand whips out, grabs on to yours. "Hold on-"

You blink a couple times at your hand in his.

"And stay still."

"Watch the suit!" Goo Kim grumbles, having to hold himself back from shoving you off him.

A designer suit is a designer suit, can't have it all wrinkled by (Goo's own face wrinkles at this)- public transport.

"Your suit looks ridiculous," you spit back, eyeing up his ostentatious two piece with distaste.

"You would think so,"

"Whatever-" The train lurches and you stagger forward, unable to stop the momentum, preparing to hit the floor with a thud-

Until you feel a tug on the back of your clothes, and you're yanked sharply back and upright.

"Careful, cupcake." Your blonde companion smirks, not foregoing his leash on you.

#ah my 3 faves #idk i think just being on a crowded train or whatever has potential yknow what i mean #lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #goo kim #goo kim x reader #lookism fic #wannaeatramyeon

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seat-safety-switch · 4 months

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Trains are the original self-driving cars. They go on special roads, and you don't have to pay attention to what's going on. In some countries, you get to finish reading your pocket novel, get up from your seat, walk to a bar, and start getting completely ass-hammered drunk, while still arriving on time. That's what futurists want, and by golly, we're not going to give it to them.

Me, I at least try to be a bit internally consistent with my criticism of other things. Review it fairly, using a set of agreed-upon quantitative criteria. You can do a burnout in a train, so that's a big plus. Powerslides, not so much. Curvy mountain roads? Yes. Four wheel drive? I have absolutely no idea, so let's say yes. Boxy, has a 1970s aesthetic, and smells bad? You bet. On the balance, trains are pretty close to my ideal vehicle, but you're not working to convince me. You're working to convince The Decision Makers.

Why? Think about it: at what point in your life did the obviously superior and cheaper alternative win out over the messy one? I don't think that I have ever seen such a thing occur, and I have been around long enough to remember when people weren't openly mocked in public for Ford ownership. Folks get a little upset that the train doesn't go exactly where they want, and suddenly it's an infeasible transport device.

That's why I've got a really good idea. You see, the railways have these special trucks that go on the tracks. Those trucks have little wheels that pop out and run on the tracks, and when it's time for them to do regular-truck stuff, they pop the wheels back up and drive wherever they want. So let's do that for every car, and just call the railways "ultra-glide high-speed superways" or something stupid like that. It'll be really popular, so popular that we'll need to build more tracks so that we're not constantly waiting for assholes to clear the switching yard on our way to the grocery store.

When the entire world is consumed by railway tracks and a million idiots screaming down them while sawing uselessly at their steering wheels, you can thank me profusely. I didn't do anything other than follow the path set out in front of me.

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lenafromthenordiccoven · 3 months

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Yes, ma'am | Bob Floyd x f!pilot!reader

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x f!Pilot!reader

Requested? no (unless you count my own brain pestering me with this)

Rating: M – MDNI 18+

Word count: 4370

Warnings: Pilot!reader, switch!Bob, switch!reader, light fingering, oral (f!receiving) unprotected PinV (be smart and wrap it, folks), breeding kink, Bob Floyd fucks, Navy and Air Force inaccuracies are probably gonna pop up here and there, super self-indulgent

Summary: After six years of training, you’re finally graduating from flight school as one of the first female Eurofighter Typhoon drivers in the Austrian Air Force. Your boyfriend of six and a half years, Bob, has supported you every step of the way. And now? Now it’s time to celebrate his newly graduated, freshly made Lieutenant, girlfriend.

Read on ao3

A/N: Listen, this is gonna be SUPER self-indulgent, ‘kay? Thanks to TGM, the Austrian airshow “Airpower” in 2022 and the internships I’ve done with the AAF, I’mma try to enter flight school for the Eurofighter Typhoons once I’m done with my MA. This translator wants to flyyy, baby! 😂 So, this is my brain keeping me motivated to train for the entry exam by giving me ideas of what it could be like to actually do it and graduate. Also, I’m a slut for Bob Floyd. What else is new? 😂 This is basically an extension of @attapullmans International Bob Floyd Fucks month. I wanted to have this up by the end of January but didn’t have time. (Song to listen to for this would be Tell Me The Truth by Two Feet.)

Six years. You’d been waiting for this moment for six years. Had worked hard for it. And now, as officers, family and other invitees were applauding and two of the Typhoons soared overhead, you were officially being dismissed as a Second Lieutenant for the first time. The first female Typhoon driver in the Austrian Air Force. And yet, it didn’t feel real. Not the way your classmates, other pilots with the rotary wing or other fixed-wing aircraft, clapped you on the back as they cheered. And certainly not the way your boyfriend of almost seven years, who’d been there for you every step of the way since you’d told him you wanted to try out for the Air Force when you’d first started dating, was grinning at you. No, he was positively beaming.

The fact that your parents hadn’t been able to make it to your graduation might’ve dampened your mood, if Bob wasn’t looking at you with so much love and pride, it made your own chest swell. You’d done it. Despite what everyone else and your own mind had told you from time to time, you’d made it. And, to be honest, you’d been terrified of Selection Day. Scared that even after already three years of consistently being top of the class and adamant about wanting to fly the Typhoon, your superior officers would tell you, they’d assign you to the helicopters or air transport.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as you pushed through the crowd and finally reached Bob. You were trembling by now, the adrenaline slowly wearing off, the world coming back into focus. And with it, the thought that you had to get Bob out of here as soon as possible. He’d chosen to wear his dress whites, while you were in your dress uniform with its grey jacket and grey pants (thank god, they’d actually let you choose whether you wanted to wear a skirt or pants and nobody had pitched a fit when you’d gone for the pants, explaining that you would “stick out like a sore thumb as is”, you didn’t want to add to that by being the only person wearing a skirt. The other female cadets in your class had all chosen the pants as well.) – and the new golden edelweiss on your collar. Fuck, if he didn’t look like he’d stepped off the pages of one of the romance novels you’d been devouring recently.

“Congratulations, darlin’. ‘m so damn proud of you,” he murmured before bending down to press his lips against yours in what had to be the most chaste kiss of the century. But you were still in sight of your superiors, so you couldn’t go too far. Especially since your relationship had already sparked enough gossip – and a three-hour briefing on what you could tell your boyfriend and what you couldn’t, not that you hadn’t figured out most of the things with you usually being on the receiving end of Bob’s professional silence. You didn’t feel like adding fuel to the fire, even though you positively ached to kiss Bob the way you really wanted to and to stick your hands in his hair and mess up that gelled back hairdo he was sporting.

You could feel your cheeks heat at the thought of how you didn’t even want him to take off his uniform. You just wanted to get him home and have him fuck you while he was still wearing his dress whites. “Thank you, baby,” you finally replied to Bob’s praise.

He raised an eyebrow and slightly cocked his head at your reaction, but you saw recognition bloom on his face when you lightly bit down on your bottom lip. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “Do we still have to go to any official dinners or parties, or do you think, we can jus’ sneak off?” His voice was rough, lower than it had been just a minute ago, and it sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

You briefly closed your eyes before you looked back up into those light blue eyes of his, trying to look as innocent as you could muster. “I’m afraid, there’s one more we have to go to. My new squad leader’s paying, and it would probably be good to get to know them a bit before next Monday. But I’m sure, they’ll understand if we don’t stay for too long.”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.” His lips stretched into a smirk, the kind of which you imagined only you saw on the regular, as another shiver raced down your spine and left goosebumps in its wake despite the June heat. Damn it. You knew, how much he liked it when you called him by his rank. But this? This was new. And you loved it. “You wanna take the lead when we get home?” He wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you in closer as you nodded.

“Hell yeah, I do.” You both chuckled at your response. Usually, you had no problem handing over control to Bob, especially in the bedroom. But sometimes, especially if things had been stressful and since you’d joined flight school, you liked to be the one to make him whimper and beg for a change. Tonight would not be any different. You grinned as your mind was already busy conjuring up ideas.

***

“Good god, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, he could talk that much,” you groaned when you finally entered your off-base apartment with Bob hot on your heels. Initially, you’d expected to only stay for maybe two hours with your new squad. But then time had stretched on and now it was almost ten pm. You were exhausted. But also restless. Besides, you actually had the weekend off, starting with Saturday tomorrow. And Bob would leave on Sunday evening, so who would fault you for not wanting to go to sleep yet?

You toed off your shoes as Bob closed and locked the door and then leaned his back against it. His eyes were closed, a sigh left his lips and for the first time since you’d picked him up from the airport, he looked tired. You inched closer to him, snuggling into his chest, despite his buttons and ribbons digging into your cheek. You could feel him relax against you, just as the tension finally left your own shoulders.

“You know,” you began to mumble into his jacket, “I’d get it if you wanted to go to sleep after today. We’ve still got tomorrow and Sunday after that.” You really would have understood if his response had been yes, wouldn’t have minded just curling into his embrace and against his warm body in bed as you both drifted off to sleep.

But to your surprise, he simply lightly pushed on your shoulders until he could get his fingers under your chin and tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “I might be tired, but that doesn’t matter. Haven’t seen you in months. Just wanna … feel you. Make you feel good.”

“You want to be a good boy for me?” you replied with your own question, your own fingers inching up his neck until you could caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch and then nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.” His eyes were glued to yours, pupils blown a little wider than they had been just minutes before. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards when he heard the sharp intake of your breath at his words.

You groaned, squeezed your eyes shut and then leaned your forehead against his chest. His words only worsened the throbbing in your core, while you fought the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “I never thought, I’d actually like it when people call me that. Makes me feel so old.” You swallowed thickly. Well, you weren’t entirely honest. You’d thought about what it would be like to hear Bob call you “Ma’am” or by your rank. The two of you had tried it out once, where he’d called you cadet and you’d immediately shut him down. It had made you feel too small, by no fault of his really. You just hadn’t liked it. But this? Hearing him call you Lieutenant? Especially in this tone of his he sometimes got when he was particularly needy and wanted you to ride him. It ignited a whole new wave of desire in your core that quickly spread throughout your whole body.

He chuckled. You felt his chest vibrate underneath your cheek. “Now you understand what you do to me when you call me by my rank?” His hand came up to cup the back of your neck. Your eyes almost fluttered closed again just feeling his fingers brush against your skin.

“You wanted me to call you Lieutenant and Sir,” you started to defend yourself. Bob’s grip around the back of your neck tightened. Only lightly, but enough to make you take a half step back, so you could look him in the eyes properly. The light blue of his eyes was almost completely swallowed by his blown-out pupils now. His other hand took your wrist and brushed your hand against the growing tent in his pants.

You could see his nostrils flare when you flexed your hand and grabbed his dick over his pants, rolling the heel of your palm against his tip. He jerked, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand. He barely suppressed the moan bubbling out of his throat and you bit your lip to hide the grin threatening to break out on your face. “I know, you feel weird about people callin’ you ma’am at work. But when we’re off-duty and I call you that or by your rank, I don’t want you to ever think, it’s not a sign of my utmost devotion to you. I love you, Y/N. And I wanna make you feel good. Please. Lemme make you feel good. Show you how much I worship you, ma’am.”

He kept his eyes trained on yours as you leaned up on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ever so lightly. He groaned and chased after your lips, but you took another step back, took your hand away from his crotch in the process. “Well, then you better show me you mean it, Lieutenant. Don’t you think?” You began to slowly walk backwards into your small apartment, undoing the buttons on your uniform jacket as you watched him stalk after you.

While discarding your uniform, you were careful not to wrinkle it. You’d have to probably go to the designated dry cleaner’s anyway, but just wanted to be safe. A thought that immediately left your head when you saw Bob reach up to undo his own buttons. You surged forward, put a hand on his and then said: “Did I say, you could undress, Lieutenant?”

Bob’s gaze flicked from your face to your hand on his. You were pretty sure, he’d also eyed the semi-lacy bra peeking through your open shirt, but you couldn’t fault him. While your current underwear couldn’t possibly be classed as lingerie, you were wearing a pretty, white set that came with lace trim around the hems, was super soft and comfortable to wear – but also had your now pebbled nipples poking through the cloth. “No, ma’am. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Lieutenant. I’ll let it slide this time. But just so we’re both clear, the uniform stays on until I say otherwise, understood?”

Bob startled, blinked once, twice, before he stuttered: “S-say again?” In another instance you would have teased him for so easily falling back into the standard ICAO phraseology, but this time, you just smiled. You shrugged off your white shirt, relishing in the way his eyes tracked every little one of your movements. He licked his lips as you pressed your body against his, nudging his cock with your thigh. One of your hands travelled up his chest, over his ribbons. Your nails lightly scratched the skin of his neck until you could tangle your fingers into his hair. And you tugged. Not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough to elicit a broken moan.

“I said, the uniform stays on until I say otherwise.” You tugged again. “Did you understand me, Lieutenant Floyd? Or do I have to spell it out for you?” He leaned down a bit, until your faces were only inches apart.

You could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He would obey for now, play along with your little game, but you would definitely be having a conversation about your apparent uniform kink later. And you knew, he would use it against you when he could.

“Loud and clear, ma’am.” He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you a little closer, and you guessed, to keep your body pressed against his, give you a harder time to escape his grasp again.

“Good.” You pressed a small kiss to his lips, ducking away before he could deepen it. You started to back up again, into your bedroom while you opened the button and fly of your pants, pushed them down over your thighs and let them pool down at your feet. You heard him groan and felt his fingers lightly brush over your ass when you turned around to walk over to your bed. You swatted his hand away, then bent over to push down your panties.

Bob swore under his breath, and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face at his reaction. You’d soaked through your panties by now, knew he could see it. Was probably itching to bury his fingers and face in your pussy. But when you caught his gaze, your breath hitched in your throat and your overly confident, dominant persona faltered for a split second. Fuck. He looked like he was going to devour you the second he got his hands on you. For a moment, you wondered if you’d gone too far in teasing him this much.

“What’s your color, baby?” you asked and slowly sank down on the edge of the bed.

“Green. Still, very much green. But, damn, Y/N…” His gaze briefly landed on your pussy and the wetness you knew he could see staining your inner thighs. You swallowed, before you leaned back a bit, steadying yourself on your hands.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here and show me what other talents your mouth and those thick, nimble fingers of yours possess.” He didn’t even respond verbally this time, only made a sound that reminded you of a growl. He nodded, once, just a quick, curt movement of his chin. Then he closed the distance between the two of you in two long strides.

His hands were on you before you could even tell him to touch you. One of them cradled your head and pulled you closer, so he could crash his lips against yours in what you’d call a complete 180° turn from how you’d kissed on base earlier that day. You moaned into the kiss, tangled one of your hands into his hair and easily opened up for his tongue to slip into your mouth. His other hand wandered down, quickly squeezing your right breast before it dipped down between your legs.

“Bobby,” you gasped against his lips as he swiped his fingers through your folds and pressed his index finger lightly against your clit.

“What, no more orders for me, ma’am?” He smirked against your lips as you desperately shook your head. You’d thrown your persona out the window the minute he’d fully touched you. All that mattered was feeling his body against yours now. Nothing else.

“Fuck that. Need you to take over. Fuck me, Bob. Please.” You could barely suppress the moan ripping out of you as he quickly shoved two fingers inside of you.

He groaned into another kiss; you knew he could feel you clench around his fingers. How you grew even wetter. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll do anything you want if you ask me this nicely.”

When you opened your mouth to tell him what exactly it was you wanted, he gently withdrew his fingers from your pussy and pushed them past your lips instead. You closed your mouth around his fingers, letting your tongue swirl over the tips and let out a low moan at the taste – and the fact that he had just figured out what you wanted without you having to ask.

He slowly sank down on his knees in front of you, grabbed your thighs and placed them on either side of his head. He looked up at you, making you wonder if it was even possible for his eyes to grow even darker? Much like you, he’d foregone his usual glasses for the day and opted for contacts, making you almost miss the feeling of the frame digging into your skin. Without his gaze ever leaving your face, he turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of your inner thigh. “This what you were gonna ask me to do, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly, trying to push him closer to your core with your heel, but to no avail. “Yes.” Any other time you would have been fucking mortified at how needy and breathless you sounded, and he’d barely touched you. But you’d done the same to him, it was only natural, he’d turn the tables on you as soon as he got the chance. And you’d handed him the reins freely after all.

“Yes, what?” He’d practically growled the words, raised an eyebrow at you and slowly leaned closer to let his hot breath ghost over your now practically dripping pussy.

You swallowed again, scrambling to find your voice and command your tongue to move. “Yes, Sir.” You could barely hear his mumbled “Good girl” in response; your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, you wondered how he hadn’t heard it yet. And then he dove right in. Licking, sucking, groaning into you as he got a taste of you after you’d barely been able to even talk on the phone for months. You leaned back further, your mouth fell open and you let the moans and gasps flow freely. When you bucked your hips against his face, his left hand came up to grip your right hip; his right hand landed on one of your breasts, pulling down your bra, so he could grab at the flesh and roll your nipple between his fingers.

Your arms trembled underneath your weight as your hands dug into the duvet underneath you. You didn’t even hold back the praise, told him how good he made you feel. In return, he doubled down on his efforts of eating you out like he was a man starved. It didn’t take long for you to reach the edge, but Bob made no move to slow down. Instead, the hand that had been kneading your breast wandered down until he shifted his mouth to your clit and thrust three of his fingers back inside of you, curled them up to hit the spot that sent you careening over the edge with a litany of “Oh my God”s leaving your mouth.

Your arms had now fully collapsed under you as you slowly returned to your body and your chest heaved with every breath as you were gasping for air. Bob pulled off of you and crawled over you, light concern shone in his eyes as he asked if you were okay.

You nodded after a couple seconds of blinking and trying to regain your ability of speech. “That was …”

You’d trailed off and before you could pick up your train of thought, Bob interrupted you: “So, what else did you have in mind for tonight?” His left hand was drawing abstract shapes onto the skin of your right hip and stomach while he waited for your reply.

You groaned, closed your eyes and dragged a hand over your face. “I … hadn’t decided, actually. Either, I ride your cock or you bend me over and fuck me until I can’t walk.” You peered up at him through your lashes with a sheepish grin. You couldn’t place the origin of the flush creeping up your neck and spreading over your chest. It was either desire or embarrassment. Or, more likely, a mix of both.

He chuckled and let his head drop down for a quick peck against your lips, before he shook his head at you. “Jesus, Y/N.”

“Sor–” you’d almost said before a hand over your mouth silenced you.

“Don’t apologize for that. Besides, I did say, I’d do anything for you, didn’t I?” He smiled down at you as you nodded, still somewhat bashful at your suggestion. Without another word, Bob stood up and you whined at the loss of contact as his hands trailed off of you as well. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll be right back where you want me. Where’d you put the condoms?”

Oh, that’s where he was going? No, no, no. That didn’t work with the fantasy you’d sketched out in your mind all week as you’d touched yourself – at night, in the shower… You sat up and grabbed his wrist with a hand to pull him back towards you. “No condom tonight. I’m on birth control anyway for my cramps. And I …” You looked down, wanting to look at your knees, but your gaze got caught on his dick straining against his pants.

“What is it, Y/N?” He leaned back down, put a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head backwards, so you had to look at him. You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes for a second, praying that he’d understand what you were trying to say. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Hm? Feel my cock inside of you, feel me come inside you?”

You nodded, breathed out another “Yes”.

Bob groaned in response. He squeezed his eyes shut, his lightly dominant persona leaving the room for a second as he looked at you again and quietly asked: “Is that why you want me to fuck you from behind?” Again, you could only nod and respond in a whisper.

He chuckled, gently cupping your cheek for a second and brought you in for a slow kiss. You practically melted into his touch and sighed against his lips when he pulled away again. “Well, lose the bra, turn around and get on your knees, sweetheart.” His voice was back to the low, darker and more dominant undertone. His gaze felt heavy on you as you scrambled to unhook the clasps of your bra behind your back and then threw the garment behind you. You’d pick it up later.

You scooted back onto the bed, before finally turning around and waiting for his next move on your hands and knees, completely bare before him now. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard him undo his belt and pull down the zipper of his pants. Goosebumps spread over your skin as his fingers traced your vertebrae and his lips pressed kisses against some of the healing bruises on your back. (Nobody had ever said, flying a fighter jet at hundreds of knots and with multiple Gs wouldn’t leave a mark on you.)

The buttons and ribbons on his jacket dug into your skin as he leaned over you, putting part of his body weight on you. He lightly nibbled on the junction of your neck and shoulder and you whined, pushing your ass back against his definitely rock-hard cock. He slipped into you easily, setting a pace that had you squeezing your eyes shut again as you let your head hang low and exposed your neck for his lips and tongue and teeth to mark you up as his, just as his cock marked your pussy.

He kept mumbling praises into your ear in-between groans and moans from both of you. But with how you’d worked each other up, it didn’t take long for either of you to get close to the edge again. “Fuck, darlin’. ‘m so close.”

“Please, Bobby. Come in me. Want to feel you.” You whined at a particularly rough thrust and your whole body shuddered when his fingers found their way down to your clit.

“Right there, Y/N. Just need you to come with me, ‘kay? Can you be a good girl and come with me?”

You weren’t sure if you’d replied to his words when your second orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. The wave of pleasure pulled you under and you distantly felt Bob’s hips stutter, then still, as he reached his own climax and spilled into you with a low, guttural groan and a mumbled “Fucking hell”.

It took a while for the ringing in your ears to fade out, your breathing normalized as did Bob’s. Although he didn’t move from his spot behind you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your back against his chest as he tipped the both of you over onto your sides. He kissed your shoulder.

“That how you imagined it, sweetheart?”

If you’d had any strength left in your body, you would have rolled over in his arms to look him in the eyes. But as it was, you simply craned your neck a bit, humming at the kiss that landed on your cheek in response. “Better. So much better.”

“’M glad. Have to take care of my new Lieutenant, don’t I?” You heard the grin in his voice and weakly rolled your eyes at the teasing lilt.

“Of course, you do. You’re always a good boy for me and take such good care of me.”

He groaned lowly and sunk his teeth lightly into your shoulder again. “If you keep that up, you won’t have to wait long for round two.”

You chuckled, before fully relaxing in his arms with a sigh. “Good. I was planning on riding your cock while you were still in your dress whites, anyway.”

#sophie writes #fic: yes ma'am #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x f!reader #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x you #top gun bob #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fucks

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ntj2pj · 16 days

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reallyyyy lazy ref on my new atp soldat :D

a flee response as atp soldat oc lmao. Man with fastest reaction (enough to catch falling colleague before they break their bones, or pull them away from bullets. He does it quite often.) Feel free to doodle my guy or draw them interacting with your ocs i guess. more info:

a nervous touchy animal who'll just run away if he is being yelled at or insulted too hard (being yelled at by allies and superiors feels much worse for guy than any loud noise or gunfire. poor thing) And even breaks windows to jump away from any height and floor. He really doesn't care and ABSOLUTELY ain't afraid of height. Luckily manages to survive. Fucking gymnast-acrobat. But how annoying he is. TO WORK WITH. You just stand close. sneeze at him not gently enough and HE DISAPPEARS. He gets along with colleagues pretty well... Well, by my AAHW metrics. He isn't popular or favorite, but he gets along with others pretty well and nobody avoids him. He is seen as very non-threating and weak. Or cute. However they call it. He is also pretty tactile (may occasionally try to hold hands or hug someone) and gentle in general, friendly fella. Gets along with mags pretty well and tried to comfort one when saw first time. Extremely good at chasing. Somehow manages to bounce around busy roadways and not become a pancake in the road, getting in windows, getting out, survive and not die on missions. Can do tricks on bicycles cooler than many bikers on motorcycles and usually steals any transport of that kind (but gentle enough to put it back after using). Very expercienced as someone who is being chased. Flee just runs out of AAHW casually without even any plan if triggered, breaks any shit on his way on impulse. And then gets back because Flee doesn't really know how he would survive, doesn't have a plan, and really don't want to leave job. Or, well, gets captured by agents and not even getting so far. His hair was torn out by other soldat who tried to capture him at first attempt to run away, but got kicked (Dan). They're becoming bffs later. Why he got such a weird reaction? Well. In my au every atp gets +- unique programs and modifications which makes them extremely mentally ill useful in different ways lol. ATPs gets their brain messed up and minmaxed in worst and unnatural ways, that's why many scared of it. Amnesia also isn't a good part. Flee was created in AAHW, and his modification ruined his fear-response, too much training created steel reflexes like unavoidable instincts, and messed ability to recognize threats. Guy is very fearless about combats, heights, insane tricks, absolutely doesn't care about risks of breaking any bone or dying (still will do a lot so colleagues won't), but will shit himself from fear and overwhelm if you just say smth mean to him loudly. If it would be done by few grunts he will get nightmares and flashbacks even. Because his sense of being punished and shame is also messed up. For the good of AAHW, of course. At first he was threatened and insulted a lot for this defect, because everyone was confused, then he was used on a trainings because damn he's like a cockroach. And then he was given a little safe place to run in it and not just out of aahw on the streets. aka personal space lmao, until they find out to fix it. But many coworkers find doing little pranks and scaring him funnier because the reaction is just too funny with all that jumping on highest surface in room, or running on all walls and then comedically hit head and FALL. Aaand he doesn't beat them up for it, he just runs as first reaction. Can even bump right into the agent who did it, like an NPC trying to run in a wall, pushing the poor guy like a fucking box in a videogame. Extremely funny idiot. So yeah he gets a lot of occasional jokes for not being aggressive enough. Not to coworkers. :D

#7lroc:fleeres #my art #madness combat oc #atp soldat #madness combat #my oc

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dailydragon08 · 4 months

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Homecoming

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: Although you're skilled in the ways of the Force and use that to your advantage in your medbay job, you always thought Luke Skywalker would be the one rescuing you, not the other way around. Warnings: reader gets shot with a blaster in the arm and leg, but injuries are not described in detail. Canon-typical violence. Reader has been separated from their family at age 10, but kept what exactly happened to them vague for self insert purposes. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Remnants!Reader and Luke's first meeting. This is my first fic in a while and my first time writing action, so please bear with me! Hoping to get back into writing more frequently now. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and my Remnants masterlist can be found linked in my pinned post on my blog! Enjoy!

“Careful,” you said as you helped yet another rebel soldier onto the transport heading back to Home One, where you were typically stationed in medbay. But today, someone needed to be on the ground to give first aid to any critically wounded soldiers so they could survive the trip back to base—and that someone had been you. Not out of any obligation. But something felt like it had been pulling you to the dusty plains on-planet, and you were never one to refuse a call from the Force.

A nearby explosion made you jump as the soldier ducked into the small ship. The pilot leaned out the door to shout over the racket, “You coming back as well?”

“I—” There it was again: the pull from this morning. The world stilled as you instinctively let yourself sink further into the Force. Time slowed and you were aware of all the souls on the battlefield, felt their fear, helplessness, rage, as particles of dirt and dust flew everywhere. They seemed to whiz by in slow motion so that you could see every facet of the tiny pieces of debris and in the middle of all the chaos, one particularly powerful presence about to knock on death’s door. They were close and felt different from the others—easier to grasp and hold onto. You’d felt this presence at rebel functions and on Home One before, and just like every time before, it somehow reached back until you were intertwined inexplicably before everything suddenly snapped back.

“Um, hello?” the pilot waved his hand in front of your face. “You coming back or not?”

You blinked. “Sorry. No, I’m staying here.”

“This may be the last transport for a while.”

You felt the presence reach out to you again like a soft hand smoothing over your shoulder and shook your head. “No, I’m staying.”

Another boom and several screams echoed in the distance as he shrugged. “Your funeral.”

You barely waited for the ship’s door to close before tightening the strap of your medical bag and sprinting towards the source of the connection, trying to keep it as steady as possible through the Force. Of course, the one day you left your grandfather’s old lightsaber in your quarters was the day you might need it. Typically, it came with you everywhere, but it was left behind in your rush to play field doctor. Your parents had taught you what they knew of the Force before you’d been separated from them at age 10 and your savior and adoptive father, an old clone that had somehow escaped conversion during the Purge and joined the rebellion named Rex, took over your combat training.

You weaved between the alleyways of abandoned stone houses in pursuit of your goal, hiding behind fallen objects and receiving cover from your comrades as Stormtroopers continued their assault. Although the emperor and Darth Vader were dead and the empire was fractured, small remnants remained here and there, trying to reorganize and reclaim power through their moffs’ and superior officers’ orders.

A blaster shot grazed past your shoulder enough to tear through your jacket. You hissed through your teeth, but otherwise ignored it. The feeling of the presence reaching out through the Force, like a soft hand on your shoulder, came again. The touch was just as gentle, but came with a new sense of urgency, and you quickened your pace as the sounds of battle continued to ring around you.

The presence grew in strength as you reached the end of the maze the neighborhood created. Just as you began to slow your pace so as not to run straight into a crossfire, a Stormtrooper jumped out from behind a nearby dumpster and pulled you down with him. You both writhed on the ground as he wrapped an arm around your neck and his legs around yours, boxing you in. You began rocking your body violently in an attempt to free yourself, managing to free an arm in just enough time to move his blaster away from your neck. He fired just as you moved, getting you at close range right in the calf. You cried out in pain, taking a deep breath before bringing your head forward, then whipping it back as hard as you could.

You winced as the trooper cried out, but didn’t indulge the pounding in your head as his arms fell to his sides. You stood, grabbing his blaster out of his hand and bringing the butt down hard on his helmet. He grunted before going limp. You nudged his foot with yours and when he didn’t move, held tight to the blaster and crouched by the opening to the plain ahead.

Several crashed ships, dumpsters, and debris were scattered over the dirt with a large circle of Stormtroopers and Darktroopers nearby. The presence felt so close that you knew your quarry was in trouble in the middle of it. But this was away from the main fight, and the only other rebels that had been here before were all either unconscious or dead on the ground.

A mechanical beeping nearby caught your attention and you looked just in time to see a Darktrooper round a fallen x-wing. You barely scrambled inside the lid of an overturned dumpster before it began shooting at you. You heard it thunk closer and held your blaster close to your chest. Another softer, more timid set of beeps and whistles sounded just in front of you. You jumped, pointing your blaster toward the sound only to find a little blue astromech wobbling on its legs in front of you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as the Darktrooper continued to descend. You could feel the shots of its blaster shaking the dumpster and leaving searing holes you did your best to avoid. Turning to the astromech, you whispered, “You go around back and electrocute him while I distract him?”

The droid chirped before whizzing out of the dumpster, hugging the side closely. The Darktrooper was close enough now that you could hear the whirring of its ankle joints. You took a deep breath through your nose and blew it slowly out your mouth before squaring your shoulders and whipping around the corner, blaster at the ready.

The imperial droid was barely inches from you as you raised your blaster toward its head. Before it could adjust its aim to shoot you, blue electricity engulfed its frame and it twitched and shook. You scampered back several steps as its head spun in circles, watching it fall to the ground with a solid thud to reveal the astromech. It chirped and beeped cheerfully before wiggling back and forth.

You gave it a small smile and pat on the head. “Good work, buddy—whoa, hey.” A small claw shot out of the droid’s side and grabbed onto your jacket, slowly pulling you towards the x-wing and closer to the circle of imperials.

“Is your master in that circle?”

The droid wiggled his body in what could’ve been a nod, but a Stormtrooper turned to face you before you could reach cover. “Hey! Over there!”

You cursed before diving behind the x-wing as the droid squealed in terror and sped after you. The ship provided decent cover for the moment as blaster shots rained down on you (and some even went far past you; typical Stormtroopers, but you weren’t complaining).

“How are we gonna get out of this one?” you grumbled before peering around the x-wing.

You groaned and pulled back as something small caught the sun's light and blinded you. You risked another look and saw a small, silver cylinder only a few feet away from you in the dirt: a lightsaber. You frowned. It certainly wasn’t yours. And the only other person you knew of in the rebellion who owned a lightsaber was—

Oh. Oh. Now you definitely had to save him.

You turned to the droid beside you. “So that makes you R2?”

The astromech whirred excitedly and if the situation wasn’t so dire, you would’ve laughed at how it seemed proud and excited to be recognized.

You glanced at the lightsaber on the ground again and saw half of the imperials coming towards you while the other half stayed closely huddled around a figure clad in black. Two Darktroopers kept a firm grip on his arms, twisting them behind his back before forcing him to his knees. You made eye contact and felt him reach for you again through the Force, this time with an urgent, unspoken plea to run while you still could.

Closing your eyes, you tuned out R2’s urgent whistles to sink into the calming nature of the Force. You could feel the man’s presence even more clearly now and felt his fear—not for himself, but for you. Not just surprise, but a sort of awe and relief rolled through him in waves at finding someone who he could not only reach for, but who could reach back. You sensed he’d lived his whole life as if he was invisible in the Force and could watch the goings on, but never join. It was like constantly waving at passersby and having all hope squashed of someone ever waving back—until now. He seemed so elated to find someone like him that you were sure it affected his ability to withhold these strong feelings from your connection. You hadn’t even been properly introduced, but he was already cherishing your connection—and fearing whether you would survive long enough to be introduced.

Focus. You honed in on the world around you and time again seemed to slow to a crawl. You locked all your concentration on the weapon in front of you, feeling the Dark and Stormtroopers’ feet move ever closer until they were only a few steps away from what might be your only saving grace. Grab the lightsaber! you thought you heard one shout.

You remembered the Jedi phrase your parents taught you. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” Taking one final deep breath, you let your hand leave the cover of the x-wing to reach towards Luke Skywalker’s weapon.

R2 let out a started beep as the lightsaber zipped into your hand and you ignited the green blade. You took a split second to admire the detail on the hilt before slinging the blaster’s strap over your arm and stepping out into the fray.

You easily batted the blaster fire away—just as you’d practiced for years with Rex and your grandfather’s lightsaber. Several of the shots successfully deflected into the troopers, sending them sprawling on the ground. R2 carefully zipped around the battlefield and incapacitated as many Darktroopers as possible, leaving you a clear shot to Luke.

You slung the blaster off your shoulder and threw it as hard as you could, using the Force to guide the weapon onward. Dust that had kicked up from the fight made it hard to see, but you could sense precisely where everything was through the Force and used it as your guide. You slingshot the gun into the heads of the Darktroopers who were holding Luke hard enough to make them stumble and let go. He took his opportunity and grabbed the gun from where it fell as you continued to deflect fire and cut through armor and mechanics alike.

Although you’d gotten plenty of Force training from your parents, which you’d continued via your grandfather’s journal after you’d been separated, and combat training from Rex, you’d never been in the thick of battle like this before. At least not fighting. You had shot and killed several Stormtroopers before, but always from a distance. Never like this—never close enough to hear their hiss of breath as they fell or the mechanical whirring of a Darktrooper malfunctioning. It was anxiety, relief, and guilt all at once, as well as anger toward the people who had made this conflict necessary in the first place.

Again, you felt a cooling, calming presence wash over you, reminding you that everything would be all right, and you reached back just as gently, even as you both saw to the enemy. The green saber in your hands slashed through the closest Darktrooper, cleaving it straight in two before a low, mechanical growl sounded behind you. You spun, unsure if you could raise your defense in time, but a sudden blaster shot clean through the head rendered it useless. You stepped out of the way as it crashed to the ground.

You urgently looked around, adrenaline pumping wildly, before realizing the only sound you could hear nearby was your own heavy breathing. All the troopers lay scattered on the ground around you with no more in sight who could pose a threat. You sheathed the saber’s blade, taking comfort in the soft whoosh it made, before closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. In the sudden silence, a steady wind whistled across the plain. By force of habit, you reached out to check that Rex was safe and finally let yourself fully relax when you sensed that he was.

The familiar presence reached out to you again, this time from just in front of you. Although this battle wasn’t the first time you’d sensed it, you’d never had a chance to feel just how strong and solid it was. It was light like air, but somehow also steady and unwavering, with a twinge of darkness but a steadfast choice not to give into it. Even though you’d just now really met, it had the comforting sense of coming home to an old friend and it was hard not to already feel a level of affection for him because of it. You could feel his affection and curiosity flowing back to you in equal measure. It made you almost afraid to open your eyes in case this homecoming within the Force was all a dream and would melt away.

A warm, rough surface brushing against the back of your hand forced you to finally look. The hero of the rebellion stood in front of you, his fingers gently brushing the hand still holding his lightsaber. His eyes were even more blue than the sky above you, but somehow the icy color still held a warmth and concern unlike any you’d ever seen. He made himself so open and after all the stories about what he’d lost and how many imperials he killed, it was shocking in a way that made you want to protect him at all costs. His face, although worn and scarred, held so much depth and kindness and you wondered what kind of hell he’d gone through to come through war with so much love to give still—and you could sense exactly how much he still had in him through your bond, and how excited he was to maybe share some of that with the first Force-sensitive person his age. There was a weight to him, but it somehow felt settled, as if he’d accepted himself as he was and the heaviness as just another part of him. His signature held a bittersweet taste: half melancholy, half hope for a better future.

It didn’t help your gawking that he was strikingly handsome—strong jaw with a jacket and pants that fit him like a glove and showed off his toned physique. Not to mention the actual glove on his right hand and the fact that he’d made sure to touch you with the uncovered one for skin-to-skin contact. The wind brushed his brown hair over his forehead and you couldn’t help but notice how tan his skin was and how calloused his hands were. You thought you remembered whisperings of the rebellion’s Boy Wonder who blew up the Death Star starting out as a clueless moisture farmer from Tatooine, but got too lost in the planes of his face to focus.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his hand still gently brushing yours and pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, surprised to sense him having a similar struggle through the Force. “Here’s your lightsaber back.”

He took it from your hand, letting his fingers linger against yours for what felt like a deliberately long moment before reattaching it to his belt. “Thank you for the help.”

“You seemed like you could use a rescue.”

He smiled and you had to remind yourself to breathe at the sight. “Yes, I got a bit caught off guard with the sheer number of them.”

R2 suddenly whirred and rolled over to stand by his master’s side, beeping excitedly. You both chuckled at his antics as Luke put a comforting hand on his dome. “I’m Luke—”

“Skywalker,” you finished. “I know.”

You regretted saying anything as he gave a stilted nod, suddenly bashful and very interested in his shoes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right.” He met your eyes again and gave you a small smile. “You work in medbay, right? You’re Y/N?”

You tried your best to hide your elation that Luke Skywalker knew who you were, but he undoubtedly picked up on it through the Force. “Yeah, I was on field doctor duty today, but…felt you and that you needed help.”

“I felt you too…” he paused, seeming unsure, before continuing. “I think I’ve felt you several times throughout the war, actually, but could never put a finger on exactly what I was feeling. I guess I never realized another Force-sensitive would feel different to me than someone who isn’t—minus my masters, of course.” He hesitated again. “It…feels good to find someone else who knows the ways of the Force.”

Now it was your turn to inspect your shoes bashfully. “Yeah, it does for me, too.” As you felt the last of the adrenaline leave your body and your eyes landed on the blaster wound on your leg, pain suddenly came pounding to the surface, as did the graze on your shoulder. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to fight as well as you did with injuries, but adrenaline could be a funny thing. The burning, however, was not so funny.

“Are you hurt?” Luke asked, closing the distance between you and gently touching your intact shoulder. You could feel fear stab through to color his Force signature as he frowned, following your eyes to your leg and wincing.

“I’m all right—”

“Anywhere else?”

You sighed, somehow knowing you’d be unable to lie to him. “A shot grazed my arm, but I’m okay—”

“Here, um—” He paused as he looked around. “Where’s somewhere you can sit…”

R2 tittered as he dragged an overturned wooden crate over with his retractable claw.

“Thanks, buddy,” you said as you flopped down harder than you meant to, moving your medical bag to sit on the ground next to you. You opened the flap and began to dig, but Luke’s hands, which dwarfed your own, stopped you.

“Please, let me—unless you’d prefer to do it?”

His blue eyes were pleading as he stared up from where he’d crouched in front of you, leaving you unsure how anyone could say no to him. “Um, no, if you want to…” You gestured awkwardly to your bag. “Do you need me to talk you through it?”

He chuckled. “Oh no, I’ve had to do this for myself many times—I mean, you work in medbay though, so of course, if you’d prefer—”

“Um, no, you can go ahead.”

“You are the expert, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You both stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before laughing and quickly looking elsewhere. As he dug through your supplies, you could see a slight pink tinting his cheeks, filing the image away deep in your mind. The fact that you, of all people, had made him blush felt like something to be proud of.

As he cleaned and bandaged your leg and arm (you didn’t think it warranted a bandage, but he insisted), you told each other of your upbringings, stories from your time in the rebellion, and even sat there for several minutes after the dressings were completed to talk about hobbies and music preferences before your wrist comm beeped.

“All right there, soldier?” Rex’s voice floated through the speakers.

“Yeah,” you answered back. “Minor injuries, but I’m fine. I’m with Commander Skywalker and R2-D2.”

“Skywalker?” Rex asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Y-yeah?” You frowned at Luke, but he simply shrugged, looking just as confused.

Rex cleared his throat. “Ah, well, good. The final transport just landed for stragglers. Can you make it here, or need us to come pick you up?”

“I think I’m good to walk.”

Luke gave you a look and although you realized you were looking at your superior, you couldn’t help pulling a face, using your forefinger to pull the tip of your nose up to show him just what you thought of that. He snorted and seemed surprised by the sound that came out of his own mouth, turning his head to smother his laugh as Rex gave you the coordinates.

“We should be there in 10-15 minutes tops.”

“Copy that, kiddo. See you soon.”

R2 twittered next to you.

Luke chuckled. “He says you can ride him back to the ship if you want.”

You smiled, but shook your head. “It’s not too bad. I’ll be fine, but thanks, R2.”

Luke helped you stand, keeping his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

You swallowed nervously. “I know you technically are a commander, so sorry if any of that,” you gestured vaguely towards where you’d been sitting, “was, um, out of line or anything.”

Luke’s face fell and he shook his head, rubbing your arms gently. “No, no, please. We’re Jedi. We have to stick together. There’s no rank here.”

“Well, I mean, I’m not technically a Jedi.”

“I could teach you if you’d like. It seems like you have some to teach me as well.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

He sighed in relief, as if he thought you might refuse. “Promise you’ll lean on me if your leg gets to be too much on the way back?”

You nodded, hoping you didn’t appear too smitten as he stayed close and kept a hand on the small of your back the entire walk back to the ship.

#luke skywalker #star wars #luke skywalker x reader #star wars x reader #luke skywalker imagines #star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #star wars fluff #luke skywalker angst #star wars angst #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars remnants #my writing

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yoitsjay · 4 months

Text

Phoenix

Pairings: Keegan P. Russ x M!Reader

Summary: you had been hiding your abilities ever since your kind had been wiped out. But your team was in danger, you had to do something... at the cost of your life perhaps?

Warnings: mentions of death, COD typical violence, blood, gunshots and gun wounds, fire, revival, nudity

Word count: 3,161

You, like everyone else now, were a hybrid. There was no real or true human left in the world, not since the monsters and creatures began to mix breed with humans, and the humans of course fell in love with the idea of having a monster as a lover, who wouldn't? they were faster, stronger, more intelligent and in most cases, hotter. You were a member of the Ghosts, a renowned special forces team in the United States. You were a new member, unfortunate as that was however regardless the team accepted you as one of their own.. maybe because you were strong… or terrifying.

The Ghosts consisted of a mix of hybrids, Logan was a vampire hybrid with enhanced smell and super strength, Hesh was a werewolf hybrid with the smell, hearing, scent and vision to boot, Ajax was an avian hybrid with strong wings which matched his hair. And then there was Keegan, and keegan being the leader seemed quite powerful himself, Being a wraith he had the ability to disappear into shadows, physical shadows that could snap the neck of an enemy without much force. He was strong on top of that, with his training and his ability. Made him all the more sexy really.

And then there was you, one of the strongest hybrids in the world… a phoenix. This mythical legend is said to never die, and if it did it would simply be reborn from ash over and over again, the only thing to kill a phoenix is iron as it will burn them and kill them. Because they are so powerful they were hunted down and killed, all but you and your mother who managed to escape one fateful night… your father and brothers weren't so lucky, but you were.

The thing was, they had no idea that you were a phoenix hybrid, your mother told you to hide your abilities, lie and say you weren't a hybrid, or that you were something else completely. Now it wasn't entirely impossible to be a human in a hybrid run world, they did still exist but the few humans that were around were used as slaves for the superior like dragons, or other powerful beasts, so, human it was then.

Despite posing as a human you were still abnormally strong, and you had a faster regeneration rate than most other people in the Ghosts, but when they ask you always used the same lie, that you were tested on because you were human and it gave you regeneration, or inhuman strength when you were indeed human. Still, you were strong and funny, and if Keegan liked you then so did the rest of the ghosts. But in order to protect you and your abilities, you still had to hide it.

Currently you are sitting in a transport plane with the rest of the Ghosts, sitting across from Keegan and between Logan and Hash. They were like brothers to you, so them pushing and nudging you didn't really bug you. Ajax was seated beside Keegan and then of course there was Riley, the ever brave Ghost dog, who was laying in her own carrier, strapped down so it wouldn't move, but it was a big crate so she was comfortable. The test of the Ghosts were back on base or… dead, may they rest in peace. So it was just you and the boys listed already.

You were heading to Chile where you heard reports of some pretty bad militia reading havoc on the locals, while also wearing rumors that he was part of an Operation in Russia, a terrorist operation that you had to shut down. Little did you know how dangerous it all would be… regardless, the plane landed on a bare strip between two smaller mountain ranges, and there was already a big truck waiting for you. A driver was waiting outside with a more serious look on his face, however when he saw the Ghosts his smile grew and he waved as you and your team walked over. “Mr. Russ, Ajax, thank you and the rest of you for coming, we are in desperate need of your help now more than ever. I'll explain everything on the way but we need to get moving.” The man stated, and the Ghost piled into the car with you being right between Keegan and Logan.

See, you and Keegan had a secret you both hid from the rest of the team, a couple months ago you were in a tight situation with Keegan and it escalated… but not in a bad way. And ever since then you and him… well let's just say it developed into something that the rest of the team would tease you for. Regardless, no matter what mission you and Keegan were on it was always his personal mission to touch you and tease you in some form of way, whether it was when you were in a sniper position with him and he HAD to touch your thigh or ass, or hold your waist to keep you still. It was frustrating, yet you never stopped him before.

Keegan even had the balls to do something like that now, sneaking a hand behind you and down the back of your pants, subtly squeezing your ass which made you tense up quite a bit, though when the car suddenly hit a large bump in the road you took the opportunity to pull Keegans arm away, and instead grip onto him and Logan so you didn't fall forward since there were no seat belts. “Fuck that was a bad bump.” you played off quickly, patting Logan’s thigh which you previously had an iron grip on, shifting yourself so you were more comfortable in your seat. You pinched Keegan however, a subtle way of telling him “not here asshole” before letting him go too.

When you arrived at your destination Keegan and Ajax talked with the driver, getting more information while you, David and Logan took all your gear into the safe house where you would be staying and planning. The two brothers left their gear on the table like ruffians, however you took the time and instead moved them to a safer location so the table could be used to plan with a map amongst other things.

When Keegan and Ajax came back inside it was time to divide and conquer. Ajax stepped forward to separate the teams, however because there was an odd number between them there would either be a group of three, or two groups of two and one loner.

“Alright, Keegan and Logan and Y/n you're in a group, Hesh you're with me. Here's the plan. Keegan and his group are going to be infiltrating the West part of this compound here where we believe our target is staying. Hesh and I will take the East side. Once inside we split off and each take a section of the house, luckily enough there are five sections. Y/n you take the southwest corner, Keegan you take the northwest. Logan, you head to the center where there are some hostages being held, free them and arm them and then get their help to take over the compound. Hesh will take the southeast corner and I'll take the northeast. Clear your sections and if you find our target bring him to the center of the compound alive for questioning. If anything goes wrong, get out of the compound and meet at the rendezvous point here-”

While Ajax was explaining everything, he pointed to certain sections on the map, showing the team where they would all be going, and then again once they would split up. You felt uneasy, however. It's not that you didn't trust Ajax, or didn't believe that this plan would work, but you just had an uneasy feeling in your mind. A hum left your lips but you nodded to the plan, you wouldn't let anyone get hurt, that was a vow you silently swore to everyone.

However, now, it was time to rest as the infiltration would be tomorrow. There were not enough rooms for you individually so you split up again, however even though Keegan was offered his own room he rejected it and grabbed you to bunk with instead, bringing you to the master bedroom where he closed and locked the door once you both were inside. “God it's been weeks since we've been alone darlin I missed you.” He grumbled, dropping his bag as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you embraced him in return, pulling off your mask so he could see your face as you smiled at him. “I could say the same Keeg, but that was a risky move that you pulled back in the car.” you huffed, pulling away with furrowed eyebrows. Keegan shrugged, almost like he didn't care anymore which was probably the truth.

“Y/n I don't want to hide our relationship- whatever it is- from the boys anymore. They have almost caught us a dozen times now and I know they're starting to get suspicious. I know they won't judge, or tell anyone else… but I don't want to hide my feelings for you.” He huffed, sliding his hands down your waist. You sighed, leaning up and kissing his cheek which still had the mask covering it. You didn't bother taking it off, knowing Keegan would if he felt comfortable, but this was a new place, who knows who could be watching.

“I know Keegan… look- how about we tell them after the mission then. We have to keep everyone's heads clear for tomorrow, we wouldn't want to distract them and get them hurt.” You explained, and Keegan nodded in agreement. However before you could move away he quickly pulled you close, pulling his mask up over his nose as he leaned in and kissed you gently, smiling against your lips before pulling away shortly after.

“I'll protect you and them no matter what. You guys are my family, and you're my everything.” He spoke softly, kissing you again just once, only to pull away too soon, walking into the bathroom attached to the bedroom to shower and get ready to sleep. You rolled your eyes, having already showered before leaving so you just stripped down to the under clothes you had on, getting in bed and getting comfortable.

Tomorrow would be a wild day, you knew it.

~~~~

You were up before anyone else that following morning, now downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast for the team with whatever breakfast foods were left in the fridge for you and the boys. There wasn't much, mostly ration tubes amongst snacks and other things, but you managed to cook up a pretty decent breakfast, setting the table.

You grew up in a house of women, being the second oldest you were taught a lot of the house chores too, so doing stuff like this not only came easy to you, but it was like second nature to get it done. The Ghosts were always grateful for your help and cooking however, it just meant they didn't have to cook for themselves as long as you were around.

When everyone was awake because of the smell of food, they all wondered downstairs to the table, thanking you, finding a plate and eating almost immediately. They were like zombies or robots, awake but programmed to do straightforward things like this… you chuckled to yourself before finding a seat and eating with them. Logan was somewhat excited about the mission, and his brother shared that excitement but you still felt nervous…

After breakfast it was time to leave, the Ghosts gathered their weapons and gear, arming themselves to carry as much as they could while you attached a med pack to the back of your gear, followed by a couple of reloads for your rifle and pistols, strapping knives to your legs, hiding some in your boots, under your sleeve where an arm sheath was, and then putting a hunting knife in its designated sheath on your vest, and lastly getting your radio in place.

When all of the Ghosts were ready, you left in the same car that picked you up from your transport plane. The driver brought you close to the compound but it was still far enough where you had to walk the rest of the way. Once you were close enough on foot you split into your groups, you Keegan and Logan, and then Ajax and Hesh going the opposite way. With your weapon in hand you fell into line behind Keegan as he sprinted to the west wall, you started looking for a way in without explosives while Keegan had readied the C4… but before you could place it, you pressed in a brick and with surprise the wall in front of you shifted and opened up to reveal a dark corridor that lead into the compound.

“Lucky me.” You muttered, allowing Keegan to take the lead again as you took your position second with Logan watching your back. Successfully you managed to get into the compound, and with a whispered battle cry, you split up with your group, stealthily creeping through the south west corridor, using your knife to Stealth kill anyone you crept up on. You did have a picture of what your target looked like. Short, brown hair and green eyes with a very pale complexion, always wearing his medals whether fake or real. Very arrogant.

You continued to search your corridor clearing rooms through your radio like everyone else, however just as you cleared the last room you heard gunshots from the other side of the building, followed by shouts over the radio from Ajax. “Hash Is down! Shot to the knee he's okay but we need backup! NorthEast corridor!” Ajax called out through the radio, immediately your knife was back in its sheath and your assault rifle was in your hands and you were running down through the south hallway, killing any enemy you stumbled across before running to the North hallway where you saw Hash clutching his knee. Immediately you got down on your knees beside him, shooting a few enemy soldiers who came up from behind you before you grabbed the med pack and started patching up his knee. “It went through Hash, I can't tell if it hit a nerve or not but I'm going to stop the bleeding.” You explained, not giving him any warning as you pressed down roughly with your hands, putting pressure on both sides of the wound. Soon Logan arrived and he covered your flank, but more and more soldiers surrounded you, and your team was starting to run out of bullets. Hash had passed out from the pain but that didn't stop you from holding that pressure. “Where's keegan?” You suddenly asked Logan, realizing he wasn't there. Logans eyes went wide and he looked around in a panic. That's when you heard sounds of struggle. A grunt left your lips, and you looked at Ajax. “we've got this, go get Keegan.” You pleaded, pulling your hands away when you were sure the bleeding was stopped (while secretly using the powers you hid to heal him faster).

Once Ajax moved, you covered his position and started shooting the enemies in front of him, eventually giving him a clear way to get to Keegan. He brought the man back, and luckily Keegan was uninjured. But Keegan, Ajax and now you were out of bullets, and Logan was running out even after using Hash’ bullets. It was like they knew you were here…

Just then explosions were heard from the south west corridor, then again where Keegan was. The house shook violently, and you quickly realized they were dropping bombs. “Quick, to the middle I have an idea!” You shouted, and Logan grabbed his brother who was still unconscious. You lead everyone to the middle, surrounding yourself with furniture and crates. Everyone was in danger if you didn't do something… you had to do something…

You stood up quickly, bullets whizzing past your face bit you ignored it, stripping off your gear as you looked down at Keegan. “what are you doing Y/n get down!” He shouted, but you shook your head. “I'm doing what I should have done long ago. I'm done hiding what I am Keegan. I'm not human, I've never been human… Keegan, Ajax, Logan… I'm The Phoenix.” You stated, and with that fire erupted out of your skin, but to them it wasn't hot fire, nor did it burn them, you started transforming into a large beast, covered in fire. Your wings spread out, and you covered your team with said wings as several bombs were dropped around you. However because you had covered your team and protected them, they were unharmed. The compound had been flattened, and obviously your target escaped…

But as the dust settled and Keegan opened his eyes, he realized that… you weren't there. You had sacrificed your life and now- you were a pile of ash in the middle of the Ghosts, hot to the touch. Keegan tensed up, experiencing not only the loss of a teammate, but the loss of his lover.

Keegan screamed, throwing a piece of furniture that surrounded them away as he took a few steps forward, Logan held his brother close since he was still unconscious, and Ajax just stared at the pile of ash. But… that wasn't the end, no…

Out of the ash, a fire sparked and suddenly a smaller version of the Phoenix you had turned too had materialized out of that ash, reborn you were, and once all the ash was gone, the fire went out and there you stood… naked as a newborn babe. A nervous chuckle left your lips, and immediately Ajax looked away, as did Logan. “Keegan?” You called out…

The man turned with disbelief, running towards you and picking you up in his arms. He didn't care if they were watching, but he pulled off his mask and he kissed you, setting you down on the ground before pulling away, quickly realizing that you were in fact naked. “well look at that, naked for me darling?” He asked with a smirk, only to get slapped on the arm. However he didn't care.

You were alive and safe, and now that he and the team knew what you actually were, they vowed to keep you safe. Once you got some clothes on, you were taken home, as was Hash who needed to heal still but he'd be able to walk again, thanks to you and your abilities…

Your target got away, but Keegan would find him, he couldn't forgive what had been done to you, even if you were revived it still called for revenge… and he would get it, for you.

#fanfiction #keegan p russ x male reader #keegan russ x male reader #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #keegan p russ #call of duty: Ghosts #logan walker #david walker #cod hash #cod logan #cod ghosts #cod ajax #male reader

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