EARLY ACCESS: USSAllegiance!Series Part One: Baby On Board - Harmon 'Harm' Rabb x Reader
This week's EARLY ACCESS FIC is USSAllegiance!Series Part One: Baby On Board - Harmon 'Harm' Rabb x Reader
The USS Allegiance is five hours away from port when Harm is notified about the newborn his Watch Commander finds in a rarely used storage hold. At first he thinks it’s a joke because to his knowledge he has no pregnant sailors upon his ship.
“She’s in good health considering she’s a few weeks early.” He’s told by the ship’s doctor as he chucks the baby under the chin. “She needs airlifting to the nearest NICU, we’re not equipped to deal with her on board the carrier.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.” He promises as he looks down at the child.
Flight Deck - It starts on the flight deck of the USS Allegiance.
Hourglass - You remember the moment you fell in love with Harm.
Happy Birthday (NSFW) - Harm tries to make it home for your birthday.
It’s when Harm steps into the kitchen of your New Orleans apartment that he realises you’re wearing his t-shirt. He’s spent five minutes looking for it in amongst the trail of clothes you left leading to the bedroom before he makes that discovery.
The sunlight streams in through the open windows, the breeze causes the light, gauzy curtains to dance to the melody of the musician on the street as he plays ‘When The Saints Go Marching In” on his trumpet.
It’s eight thirty in the morning on his first day in New Orleans and already he’s in love.
You smile when he wraps his arms around you, the heat from his body permeating the thin shirt, warming your skin. His lips chase up along the curve of your throat and you make that sweet noise again, the one he remembers so fondly from last night.
“You should come back to bed.” He whispers, his fingertips toying with the hem of the t-shirt. “I haven’t given you your birthday present yet.”
“You could give it to me right here on the counter.” You tease, so he does.
Teasing kisses, give way to wandering hands and before he knows it you’re already soaked and keening for him. He tugs your panties down your thighs, the fabric damp with your slick before he slowly enters you from behind.
It’s a different angle from last night, a deeper one, it strikes some cord inside of you that has you chanting his name like a mantra as he fucks you with long, punctuated thrusts. He chases your pleasure, your delirium, his cock raking over that deviant little spot inside of you until your tightening around him. He claps his hand over your mouth because the windows are open and you’re getting a little loud and he can tell it gets you off from the way you grip his dick.
“You want me to come inside you baby?” He whispers into your ear because Harm, he ain’t nothing but a gentleman and this is only the second time you’ve been together. “Like last night?”
You moan against his hand and he smiles against your skin, his fingers tracing circles over your clit. The ecstasy it builds like a crescendo inside of you, each note taking you higher and higher until the rapture hits and you’re coming all over him. You take him with you, his release spilling deep as he buries his face into the side of your neck, stifling his euphoria.
He holds you close in the aftermath, his hands stroking over your sensitive flesh underneathe the fabric of his t-shirt.
“Fuck.” You whisper, your head falling back against his chest. “I wish all my birthdays could start like this.”
His nose trails up along the curve of your throat, his lips ghosting over your ear.
“Stick with me.” He murmurs as his thumb traces over the tattoo of the moon and stars on your hip. “And I promise, every single one of them will.”
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Companion piece to Chevy Corvette - Harm asks you for an answer regarding a very personal question.
There has never been anyone as beautiful as you, especially in white lace. Harm thinks that, the moment he sees you walking down the aisle towards him in an off the shoulder wedding dress. When he puts the silver wedding band on your finger, for the first time in his life he feels complete. It’s never been like this with another woman, they’ve never been able to make him feel the way that you do.
The day moves quickly, the ceremony, the photographs, the reception, it’s a constant stream of congratulations and merriment. Harm finds it exhausting, all he wants is a couple of moments alone with you but you’re constantly being stolen away and so is he.
It’s much later that you find yourselves in the Corvette overlooking the water, the moon shimmering as the waves lap against the dock. Harm’s stayed dry throughout the day, sipping from the champagne flute instead of drinking it. He wants to enjoy the time he spends with you tonight, to treasure it.
He’d intended to drive the two of you back to the hotel but he’d found himself here, at the spot where he’d got down on one knee and proposed to you properly. It’s the place you watch for his ship when you know it’s coming in. A unique scenic space tucked away from the rest of the world.
It’s there that you make love for the first time as man and wife, his fingers threading through your hair as you rock together in the darkness. There has never been a moment as perfect as this, the sensation of being with you underneath the stars. Your breath quickens and your body tightens and Harm, he can’t tear himself away because you are absolutely stunning. You take him with you when you climax, the ecstasy echoing through the night as he spills his release deep.
“Oh Mrs Rabb.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
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You and Harm are sequestered in the room they use for interrogations, it’s a tiny space tucked in alongside the brig and Harm takes up most of it with his 6’4 frame and broad shoulders. He sits beside you at the small table watching as you scribble in your notepad. It’s part of your process, it helps you organise your thoughts. His arm comes to rest upon the back of your chair, his thumb trailing over the curve of your shoulder and the edges of your mouth tip up into a small smile.
It’s the intimacy he misses, being able to touch you, hold you, love you. Aboard the ship he’s all about maintaining professionalism but it’s tough being this close to you after four months of absence.
I can't stop thinking of how deranged he looks in this gif
Every Christmas Eve Harm visits the Vietnam War Memorial. He sets a small bouquet of flowers down against the glossy wall before he presses his fingertips to his father’s name and tells him he’s thinking of him.
This year it’s you that goes to the memorial, you that leaves the flowers, you that runs your fingers over the engraving before you tell Harmon Rabb Snr his son is thinking about him somewhere in the Indian Ocean.
“I appreciate you taking the time to do that for me.” Harm tells you over the phone later that evening, the line crackling like crazy and you have to strain your ears to hear the even timbre of his voice.
“You don’t have to thank me.” You say softly as you roll the sleeves of the sweater you’re wearing up to your elbows. It’s one of Harm’s, his white one, the scent of his aftershave still clings to the woollen collar as you pull it up just a little higher. “I know how important it is for you.”
This is the first time in over a decade he hasn’t attended the memorial and it weighs heavily on his shoulders. The last time he was in Russia visiting his brother Sergi. The two of them had toasted to their father instead with gold leaf vodka that Sergi had bought especially for the occasion.
“I’m sorry.” He says quietly. “About not being there for Christmas.”
It’ll be the first one the two of you have been apart for in your time together. You’ve developed your own traditions over the years. Usually after the memorial you curl up on the couch with Harm’s homemade hot chocolate and watch ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ his choice, followed by your choice ‘Elf’ and then the joint choice ‘Die Hard’.
Christmas morning is usually spent with Harm in the kitchen, it’s his favourite place in the house. He treats cooking as a form of creative expression and you always reap the benefits with delicious meals he makes. You’d had the kitchen renovated when you’d first moved in so that the worksurfaces fit his 6’4 frame. When Harm was docked in Naples he’d fallen in love with rustic Italian influences, that’s the way the kitchen has been designed. It’s a bright, airy space with wooden cabinets, a steam oven, a stove and indoor gas grill. The dishware came over with him from Perugia, the glassware from Murano. The kitchen table where you share meals is French country, a vintage piece he’d had shipped from a market in England.
When you’re missing him you sit at the kitchen table with your laptop because being in his space amongst these things makes you feel close to him.
“There’ll be other Christmases.” You remind him as you cradle the phone under your chin tucking the couch blanket around your legs. “Besides it’s not like I’m home alone, Alden’s hosting for the rest of us strays. We probably would have ended up there anyway.”
“Has it started snowing there yet?” He asks you and you smile glancing out of the window because Harm loves a white Christmas just as much as you do.
“Just started.” You tell him. “It looks like it’s going to stick.”
There’s silence for a moment and you can feel his longing over the eleven thousand miles that stretch between you.
“Will you think of me tonight?” He says finally, his voice a little rough.
“Harm.” You whisper. “I think about you every night.”
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You can remember the exact moment you fell in love Harm. It was six am on a Tuesday and the two of you were standing at the railing near the back of the aircraft carrier watching the sunrise in the distance, trying to catch your breath. He’d run you ragged that morning, changing up the route a little, throwing in an obstacle or two.
I like to keep things interesting, he’d told you and you could certainly testify to that.
You’d spent three months in his company and you’d told that man things you haven’t spoken about in years. He’d unlocked the parts of you that had shut down after your marriage to Robbie, ignited things inside of you, you didn’t even know existed.
He’s laughing at something you’ve said when he tilts his head towards you. His t-shirt clings to his firm, broad chest, pulling taunt over his shoulders. His navy blue shorts cover his powerful, muscular thighs as you imagine getting on your knees and drawing them down his hips. His flock of dark hair wavers in the breeze as he looks at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.
Your breath catches in your throat and something blossoms deep down in your chest.
He’s a handsome man, you’re not the only one that thinks so. You see the looks some of the other women give him, the way their gazes stray across his form. You’ve been loved by attractive men before, you married one. It doesn’t mean anything.
Harm though, he’s different. You can see it in the way he listens to people, the way he talks to them. There’s an intimacy in the conversations you have, each one is give and take, a mutual sharing of information. There’s no judgement, no recrimination, just understanding. That’s what makes you fall in love with Harmon Rabb, his compassion, his empathy.
The hourglass runs out before you can decide what to do about it.
One minute you’re the agent afloat, the next you’re being reassigned to New Orleans to investigate the murder of NCIS Agent Christopher LeSalle because you have connections in that world. Your replacement is already on route. Your tenure on the USS Allegiance is over.
It’s that moment just before you step onto the flight deck to catch your chopper that you realise there’s a chance that he might feel the same way. He gives you that resigned smile, his palms coming to rest on your shoulders, squeezing lightly and you realise for the first time in five years you don’t want to leave. You’re not talking about the ship, you’re talking about him.
It’s the thought of not seeing him again that drives you. Never in a million years did you think you’d put your heart on the line but you do, because there is just something about Captain Harmon Rabb you can’t shake.
“Come visit me.” You request, your palms coming to rest on his chest. “The next time you have leave, come to New Orleans…”
You trail off then because you start to second guess yourself. You can’t hope that this man feels the same way that you do, you’re asking too much for something that a flirtation at best.
“New Orleans in the Spring could be fun,” He murmurs surprising you, his thumb chases over the line of your jaw as the edges of his mouth tip up into a smile.
You kiss him then and the feel of his lips pressing against yours, it’s better than you ever could have dreamed. Your fingers tangle in his hair drawing him closer and he moans into your mouth.
It’s the crackle of the radio that breaks you apart. It’s clear in that moment that he doesn’t want to let you go, you feel that reluctance acutely as you draw away, your hands still clasped in his.
“Stay safe.” He says softly before releasing you.
“Always Captain.” You murmur before issuing him a salute. “I’ll see you in the spring.”
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Twilight Hours: Harmon 'Harm' Rabb x Reader (NSFW)
Tagging: @kmc1989
Harm thinks of you at night. He lies in his rig staring up at the ceiling as his thumb smooths over the space where you left a lipstick mark upon his chest just before he left.
“Something to carry with you Captain.” You had whispered against his skin as those clever lips delved lower.
You’d ruined him that night with light, teasing fingertips and a mouth that was made for sin. When you finally let him come, he spills himself inside you, that sweet pussy of yours gripping him so tight that he sees a kaleidoscope of stars behind his closed eyes.
It’s been a couple of months since he’s seen you face to face but your emails, the video chats they sustain him.
I think about you all the time Harm, the feel of those calloused hands on my body as I touch myself.
The words, they echo in his ears as he carresses himself underneath the blanket. His palm wraps around his cock, squeezing tightly as he imagines your mouth wrapped around his dick, those pretty eyes of yours fixed on his as his fingertips stroke through your hair.
He’s always soft with you, always tender. He doesn’t fuck your mouth, he lets you set the pace, take your time. You know just the right way to take care of him, how to strip away his control, how to leave him desperate and wanton, calling your name as you pin his hips to the mattress. He can’t move, he can’t think, he’s lost in the sensation of your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock as you take him deep, so deep that he fucking loses it.
He covers his mouth with his palm as he comes, stifling the noise as his release spurts across his fist in thick white streaks. They paint his belly, his abdomen, his hips. It’s been a couple of days since he’s allowed himself any pleasure, he always tries to hold off, save it for the nights you call.
There’s a loneliness in the aftermath, an absence that he feels deep within his heart. The best part of a night with you isn’t the sex, it’s the connection he feels as he holds you close, your limbs entwined with his as he falls asleep. He misses that when he’s afloat, the intimacy. He craves it in the twilight hours, when his mind's quiet and there’s nothing else to focus on.
Just one more month, he thinks as he cleans himself up with the t-shirt he’s worn to bed. One more month until you’re back in his arms.
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