#special mission aircraft

[nocternalrandomness]

Lockheed HC-130J fueling an HH-60W Jolly Green II

[amrutmnm]

Addressing Power Supply Issues in UAVs for Special Mission Aircraft

The Special Mission Aircraft Market is projected to grow from USD 15.9 Billion in 2022 to USD 19.9 Billion by 2027, at a CAGR of 4.6%. This market encompasses aircraft specifically designed or modified to perform specialized missions, supporting both combat and non-combat activities for air, naval, and ground forces. The special mission aircraft industry spans commercial aviation, military aviation, and unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs). Key applications include intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance (ISR), combat support, and command and control operations.

Market Statistics and Size

The Special Mission Aircraft Industry is witnessing steady growth, driven by increasing global defense spending and the need for advanced surveillance and reconnaissance capabilities. In 2022, the market size was valued at USD 15.9 billion, and it is expected to reach USD 19.9 billion by 2027. The market's compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 4.6% underscores the expanding demand for these specialized aircraft across various sectors.

Get a Deeper Understanding of the Industry by Visiting: https://www.marketsandmarkets.com/Market-Reports/special-mission-aircraft-market-23335921.html

Market Trends

Several key trends are shaping the special mission aircraft market:

Increasing Need for Air-to-Air Refueling:

There is a growing demand for air-to-air refueling capabilities to support overseas deployment of military aircraft. This trend is particularly notable in regions like Asia Pacific, where military bases are expanding. The US Defense Department anticipates that China may establish additional military bases worldwide, driven by investments in the Belt and Road Initiative. Similarly, India is bolstering its military presence in the region, as evidenced by its defense projects and agreements with neighboring countries.

Advancements in Sensor Technology:

Technological advancements in sensor technology are driving the demand for unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs). UAVs are increasingly used for intelligence gathering, surveillance, and target tracking. These drones are equipped with advanced sensors and are used in both military and commercial applications, ranging from agriculture and real estate to environmental monitoring and wildlife preservation.

Procurement and Modernization Programs:

Many countries are investing in the procurement and modernization of their military aircraft fleets. For instance, the US Department of Defense has been signing contracts to increase the production of fighter jets, including the Lockheed Martin F-35A Lightning II aircraft. Similarly, Germany is replacing its aging Tornado bombers with advanced aircraft capable of carrying nuclear weapons.

North America's Market Leadership:

North America is expected to remain the largest market for special mission aircraft, driven by increased military spending and demand for advanced aircraft. The US, in particular, leads the market, with significant investments in aerospace and defense. Canada's aviation industry also plays a crucial role, contributing to the region's market growth through extensive R&D activities and a strong export market.

Industry Drivers

The growth of the special mission aircraft market is driven by several factors:

Increasing Need for ISR Capabilities:

The need for intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) capabilities is a major driver of the market. Special mission aircraft equipped with advanced ISR systems provide critical tactical and strategic intelligence, enhancing situational awareness and decision-making for military operations.

Rising Defense Budgets:

Global defense spending is on the rise, fueling the demand for advanced military aircraft. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), world military expenditure reached USD 2.1 trillion in 2021, marking a 0.7% increase compared to 2020. This increase in defense budgets enables countries to invest in modernizing their military fleets, including special mission aircraft.

Expansion of Military Bases:

The establishment and expansion of military bases worldwide necessitate the deployment of special mission aircraft. For example, the US and China are expanding their military presence in various regions, driving the demand for aircraft capable of supporting a wide range of missions.

Technological Advancements:

Continuous advancements in aerospace technology, including improvements in sensors, avionics, and communication systems, are enhancing the capabilities of special mission aircraft. These technological innovations enable more effective and efficient mission execution, driving market growth.

Get Thorough Information in Our PDF Brochure: https://www.marketsandmarkets.com/pdfdownloadNew.asp?id=23335921

Industry Challenges

Despite the positive growth outlook, the special mission aircraft market faces several challenges:

Stringent Regulatory Norms:

The aerospace industry is highly regulated, with strict safety standards governing the manufacturing and operation of special mission aircraft. Compliance with national and international regulations, such as those set by the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO), is mandatory. These stringent norms can impact the delivery cycle and increase the cost of aircraft production.

Power Supply Issues for UAVs:

UAVs used in critical operations require a continuous and uninterrupted power supply. Most UAVs rely on lithium-ion batteries, which have durability issues and may not provide sufficient power for extended missions. The need for reliable power solutions is a significant challenge for the UAV segment of the market.

Market Opportunities

The special mission aircraft market presents several opportunities for growth:

Advancements in UAV Technology:

The development of advanced UAVs with improved endurance, payload capacity, and sensor capabilities presents significant growth opportunities. UAVs are increasingly being used in a variety of applications, from military operations to commercial and civil sectors.

Increased Focus on Cybersecurity:

As cybersecurity becomes a top priority for defense operations, there is a growing demand for secure communication and data transmission systems in special mission aircraft. Developing and integrating advanced cybersecurity solutions can enhance the market's growth prospects.

Sustainability Initiatives:

The aerospace industry is increasingly focusing on sustainability and green initiatives. Developing energy-efficient and eco-friendly special mission aircraft can open up new market opportunities and attract investments from environmentally conscious stakeholders.

Discover All the Steps in Our Detailed Sample: https://www.marketsandmarkets.com/requestsampleNew.asp?id=23335921

Regional Analysis

North America

North America, particularly the United States, dominates the special mission aircraft market. The region's growth is driven by high defense spending, advanced R&D activities, and a strong aerospace industry. The US leads in the development and deployment of special mission aircraft, supported by major defense contractors like Lockheed Martin and Boeing.

Europe

Europe is also a significant market for special mission aircraft, with countries like Germany, France, and the UK investing in modernizing their military fleets. Collaborative defense initiatives and increased military spending contribute to the market's growth in this region.

Asia Pacific

The Asia Pacific region is experiencing rapid growth in the special mission aircraft market. Countries like China, India, and Japan are increasing their defense budgets and expanding their military capabilities. The growing number of military bases and the need for advanced surveillance and reconnaissance systems are driving market growth in this region.

Top Key Market Players

The Special Mission Aircraft Companies are dominated by globally established players such as The Boeing Company (US), Lockheed Martin (US), Dassault Aviation SA (France), Textron Aviation (US), and Northrop Grumman Corporation (US) among others.

The special mission aircraft market is poised for significant growth, driven by increasing global defense spending, technological advancements, and the expanding need for ISR capabilities. Despite challenges such as stringent regulatory norms and power supply issues for UAVs, the market offers substantial opportunities for growth. Advancements in UAV technology, cybersecurity, and sustainability initiatives are expected to drive the market forward. North America remains the largest market, followed by Europe and Asia Pacific, with each region contributing to the overall growth and development of the special mission aircraft industry.

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[aerospace-and-defence]

The Special Mission Aircraft Market is projected to grow from USD 15.9 Billion in 2022 to USD 19.9 Billion by 2027, at a CAGR of 4.6%.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The vast majority (99%) of the 281,000 metric tonnes of carbon dioxide (CO2 equivalent) estimated to have been generated in the first 60 days following the 7 October Hamas attack can be attributed to Israel’s aerial bombardment and ground invasion of Gaza, according to a first-of-its-kind analysis by researchers in the UK and US. According to the study, which is based on only a handful of carbon-intensive activities and is therefore probably a significant underestimate, the climate cost of the first 60 days of Israel’s military response was equivalent to burning at least 150,000 tonnes of coal. The analysis, which is yet to be peer reviewed, includes CO2 from aircraft missions, tanks and fuel from other vehicles, as well as emissions generated by making and exploding the bombs, artillery and rockets. It does not include other planet-warming gases such as methane. Almost half the total CO2 emissions were down to US cargo planes flying military supplies to Israel. Hamas rockets fired into Israel during the same period generated about 713 tonnes of CO2, which is equivalent to approximately 300 tonnes of coal – underscoring the asymmetry of each side’s war machinery.

[...]

David Boyd, the UN special rapporteur for human rights and the environment, said: “This research helps us understand the immense magnitude of military emissions – from preparing for war, carrying out war and rebuilding after war. Armed conflict pushes humanity even closer to the precipice of climate catastrophe, and is an idiotic way to spend our shrinking carbon budget.”

[...]

Even without comprehensive data, one recent study found that militaries account for almost 5.5% of global greenhouse gas emissions annually – more than the aviation and shipping industries combined. This makes the global military carbon footprint – even without factoring in conflict-related emission spikes – the fourth largest after only the US, China and India.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Beefy Bucky fucking you like he owns you❤️‍🔥

40s Bucky calling you his dirty little slut❤️‍🔥

Workout Motivation❤️‍🔥

Smile For Me🩷 (Request)

Here For You🩷 (Request)

Here For You (part 2)❤️‍🔥🩷 (Request)

Plum Flavored Chapstick🩷

Cuddles and Kisses🩷 (Request)

Kissing In The Rain🩷

Something New❤️‍🔥

Watching Over You🩷

Sweetness❤️‍🔥

The Winter Soldier Comes Out To Play❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Bedtime🩷 (Request & Drabble)

You Belong To Me❤️‍🔥

Stress Reliever❤️‍🔥

Beard❤️‍🔥

Best Friends🩷

Give Me A Chance (College Student!Bucky AU)❤️‍🔥

I Miss You🧡🩷

Mornings🩷

In Trouble❤️‍🔥

Ladybug🩷

Glasses🩷

Nightmare🩷

Always Be Her Dad🩷

Bracelet🩷 (Request)

Hungover Super Soldier🩷

Fantasize❤️‍🔥

Old Man🩷

Daddy’s Arm Is Different🩷

Dirty Little Stories❤️‍🔥

Can’t Wear Me Out❤️‍🔥

Grumpy Soldier🩷 (Drabble)

Alpine’s New Mommy🩷

Be Quiet For Me❤️‍🔥

Boo Boos and Tea Parties🩷

Didn’t Mean It🧡🩷

Patching Up The Winter Soldier🩷

Needy Night❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Late Night Comfort❤️‍🔥🩷 (Request)

Care and Worry🧡🩷 (Request)

Needy Soldier❤️‍🔥

Sneaking Around❤️‍🔥

Fulfilled Fantasy (with Natasha Romanoff)❤️‍🔥

There For You🩷

Fan Girl Moment🩷 (Request)

Special Surprise🩷

Got My Doll Back🩷

Manners❤️‍🔥

Mommy Hurt🩷 (Request)

Middle Of The Night❤️‍🔥 (Request & Drabble)

Birthday Wish🩷

Dada🩷

I Got You🩷

Best Undercover Mission Ever❤️‍🔥

Picture Perfect Beauty🩷 (Drabble)

Happy Birthday🩷 (Request & Blurb)

Ice Cream Date🩷

Single Dad!Bucky Drabble🩷

You’re Mine🧡❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Don’t Understand🩷 (Request & Drabble)

Carpenter!Bucky Barnes Drabble🩷

Take Your Mind Off Of It❤️‍🔥 (Request)

You’re The One That I Want🩷 (Request)

You’re Safe🩷 (Request)

Bucky taking care of you when you have the flu Drabble🩷

Easter🩷 (Drabble)

New House and A Cat🩷

The Kiss🩷 (Request)

Cute In Your Uniform❤️‍🔥

Yes Sir❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Not Going To Fight You🩷 (Request)

My Best Friend’s Brother Is The One For Me🩷

Aircraft Fun❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Venting🩷 (Request)

New Mission Suit❤️‍🔥

Neighbor/Mechanic!Bucky Drabble❤️‍🔥

Buying Everything You Touch🩷 (Request)

Unexpected🩷🧡 (Request)

Daughter’s First Words🩷

Naughty Girl❤️‍🔥

Break Through❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Wisdom Teeth (with Steve Rogers)🩷 (Request)

Have Your Back Forever And Always🩷

Alpine meeting yours and Bucky’s newborn baby🩷 (Drabble)

Bucky finding out that you have a thing for his vibranium arm❤️‍🔥

Trying To Protect You🩷 (Request)

The Truth🩷🧡 (Request)

Ways To Help🩷 (Request)

Beautiful Eyes🩷 (Request)

Not A Burden (with Steve Rogers)🩷 (Request)

Love Them❤️‍🔥🩷 (Request)

Under Your Influence🩷 (Request)

Make Me Yours🩷❤️‍🔥 (Request)

Bucky treating you like a princess when you’re on your period🩷

Needy Girl❤️‍🔥

Cupcakes🩷

Bucky finds a kitten🩷

Bucky waking you up in the best way possible on your birthday❤️‍🔥 (Drabble)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Boeing’s deliberately defective fleet of flying sky-wreckage

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (May 2) in WINNIPEG, then Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Boeing's 787 "Dreamliner" is manufactured far from the company's Seattle facility, in a non-union shop in Charleston, South Carolina. At that shop, there is a cage full of defective parts that have been pulled from production because they are not airworthy.

Hundreds of parts from that Material Review Segregation Area (MRSA) were secretly pulled from that cage and installed on aircraft that are currently plying the world's skies. Among them, sections 47/48 of a 787 – the last four rows of the plane, along with its galley and rear toilets. As Moe Tkacik writes in her excellent piece on Boeing's lethally corrupt culture of financialization and whistleblower intimidation, this is a big ass chunk of an airplane, and there's no way it could go missing from the MRSA cage without a lot of people knowing about it:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-04-30-whistleblower-laws-protect-lawbreakers/

More: MRSA parts are prominently emblazoned with red marks denoting them as defective and unsafe. For a plane to escape Boeing's production line and find its way to a civilian airport near you with these defective parts installed, many people will have to see and ignore this literal red flag.

The MRSA cage was a special concern of John "Swampy" Barnett, the Boeing whistleblower who is alleged to have killed himself in March. Tkacik's earlier profile of Swampy paints a picture of a fearless, stubborn engineer who refused to go along to get along, refused to allow himself to become inured to Boeing's growing culture of profits over safety:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-03-28-suicide-mission-boeing/

Boeing is America's last aviation company and its single largest exporter. After the company was allowed to merge with its rival McDonnell-Douglas in 1997, the combined company came under MDD's notoriously financially oriented management culture. MDD CEO Harry Stonecipher became Boeing's CEO in the early 2000s. Stonecipher was a protege of Jack Welch, the man who destroyed General Electric with cuts to quality and workforce and aggressive union-busting, a classic Mafia-style "bust-out" that devoured the company's seed corn and left it a barren wasteland:

https://qz.com/1776080/how-the-mcdonnell-douglas-boeing-merger-led-to-the-737-max-crisis

Post-merger, Boeing became increasingly infected with MDD's culture. The company chased cheap, less-skilled labor to other countries and to America's great onshore-offshore sacrifice zone, the "right-to-work" American south, where bosses can fire uppity workers who balked at criminal orders, without the hassle of a union grievance.

Stonecipher was succeeded by Jim "Prince Jim" McNerney, ex-3M CEO, another Jack Welch protege (Welch spawned a botnet of sociopath looters who seized control of the country's largest, most successful firms, and drove them into the ground). McNerney had a cute name for the company's senior engineers: "phenomenally talented assholes." He created a program to help his managers force these skilled workers – everyone a Boeing who knew how to build a plane – out of the company.

McNerney's big idea was to get rid of "phenomenally talented assholes" and outsource the Dreamliner's design to Boeing's suppliers, who were utterly dependent on the company and could easily be pushed around (McNerney didn't care that most of these companies lacked engineering departments). This resulted in a $80b cost overrun, and a last-minute scramble to save the 787 by shipping a "cleanup crew" from Seattle to South Carolina, in the hopes that those "phenomenally talented assholes" could save McNerney's ass.

Swampy was part of the cleanup crew. He was terrified by what he saw there. Boeing had convinced the FAA to let them company perform its own inspections, replacing independent government inspectors with Boeing employees. The company would mark its own homework, and it swore that it wouldn't cheat.

Boeing cheated. Swampy dutifully reported the legion of safety violations he witnessed and was banished to babysit the MRSA, an assignment his managers viewed as a punishment that would isolate Swampy from the criminality he refused to stop reporting. Instead, Swampy audited the MRSA, and discovered that at least 420 defective aviation components had gone missing from the cage, presumably to be installed in planes that were behind schedule. Swampy then audited the keys to the MRSA and learned that hundreds of keys were "floating around" the Charleston facility. Virtually anyone could liberate a defective part and install it into an airplane without any paper trail.

Swampy's bosses had a plan for dealing with this. They ordered Swampy to "pencil whip" the investigations of 420 missing defective components and close the cases without actually figuring out what happened to them. Swampy refused.

Instead, Swampy took his concerns to a departmental meeting where 12 managers were present and announced that "if we can’t find them, any that we can’t find, we need to report it to the FAA." The only response came from a supervisor, who said, "We’re not going to report anything to the FAA."

The thing is, Swampy wasn't just protecting the lives of the passengers in those defective aircraft – he was also protecting Boeing employees. Under Sec 38 of the US Criminal Code, it's a 15-year felony to make any "materially false writing, entry, certification, document, record, data plate, label, or electronic communication concerning any aircraft or space vehicle part."

(When Swampy told a meeting that he took this seriously because "the paperwork is just as important as the aircraft" the room erupted in laughter.)

Swampy sent his own inspectors to the factory floor, and they discovered "dozens of red-painted defective parts installed on planes."

Swampy blew the whistle. How did the 787 – and the rest of Boeing's defective flying turkeys – escape the hangar and find their way into commercial airlines' fleets? Tkacik blames a 2000 whistleblower law called AIR21 that:

creates such byzantine procedures, locates adjudication power in such an outgunned federal agency, and gives whistleblowers such a narrow chance of success that it effectively immunizes airplane manufacturers, of which there is one in the United States, from suffering any legal repercussions from the testimony of their own workers.

By his own estimation, Swampy was ordered to commit two felonies per week for six years. Tkacik explains that this kind of operation relies on a culture of ignorance – managers must not document their orders, and workers must not be made aware of the law. Whistleblowers like Swampy, who spoke the unspeakable, were sidelined (an assessment by one of Swampy's managers called him "one of the best" and finished that "leadership would give hugs and high fives all around at his departure").

Multiple whistleblowers were singled out for retaliation and forced departure. William Hobek, a quality manager who refused to "pencil whip" the missing, massive 47-48 assembly that had wandered away from the MRSA cage, was given a "weak" performance review and fired despite an HR manager admitting that it was bogus.

Another quality manager, Cynthia Kitchens, filed an ethics complaint against manager Elton Wright who responded to her persistent reporting of defects on the line by shoving her against a wall and shouting that Boeing was "a good ol’ boys’ club and you need to get on board." Kitchens was fired in 2016. She had cancer at the time.

John Woods, yet another quality engineer, was fired after he refused to sign off on a corner-cutting process to repair a fuselage – the FAA later backed up his judgment.

Then there's Sam Salehpour, the 787 quality engineer whose tearful Congressional testimony described more corner-cutting on fuselage repairs:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PP0xhIe1LFE

Salehpour's boss followed the Boeing playbook to the letter: Salehpour was constantly harangued and bullied, and he was isolated from colleagues who might concur with his assessment. When Salehpour announced that he would give Congressional testimony, his car was sabotaged under mysterious circumstances.

It's a playbook. Salehpour's experience isn't unusual at Boeing. Two other engineers, working on the 787 Organization Designation Authorization, held up production by insisting that the company fix the planes' onboard navigation computers. Their boss gave them a terrible performance review, admitting that top management was furious at the delays and had ordered him to punish the engineers. The engineers' union grievance failed, with Boeing concluding that this conduct – which they admitted to – didn't rise to the level of retaliation.

As Tkacik points out, these engineers and managers that Boeing targeted for intimidation and retaliation are the very same staff who are supposed to be performing inspections of behalf of the FAA. In other words, Boeing has spent years attacking its own regulator, with total impunity.

But it's not just the FAA who've failed to take action – it's also the DOJ, who have consistently declined to bring prosecutions in most cases, and who settled the rare case they did bring with "deferred prosecution agreements." This pattern was true under Trump's DOJ and continued under Biden's tenure. Biden's prosecutors have been so lackluster that a federal judge "publicly rebuked the DOJ for failing to take seriously the reputational damage its conduct throughout the Boeing case was inflicting on the agency."

Meanwhile, there's the AIR21 rule, a "whistleblower" rule that actually protects Boeing from whistleblowers. Under AIR21, an aviation whistleblower who is retaliated against by their employer must first try to resolve their problem internally. If that fails, the whistleblower has only one course of action: file an OSHA complaint within 90 days (if HR takes more than 90 days to resolve your internal complaint, you can no have no further recourse). If you manage to raise a complaint with OSHA, it is heard by a secret tribunal that has no subpoena power and routinely takes five years to rule on cases, and rules against whistleblowers 97% of the time.

Boeing whistleblowers who missed the 90-day cutoff have filled the South Carolina courts with last-ditch attempts to hold the company to account. When they lose these cases – as is routine, given Boeing's enormous legal muscle and AIR21's legal handcuffs – they are often ordered to pay Boeing's legal costs.

Tkacik cites Swampy's lawyer, Rob Turkewitz, who says Swampy was the only one of Boeing's whistleblowers who was "savvy, meticulous, and fast-moving enough to bring an AIR 21 case capable of jumping through all the hoops" to file an AIR21 case, which then took seven years. Turkewitz calls Boeing South Carolina "a criminal enterprise."

That's a conclusion that's hard to argue with. Take Boeing's excuse for not producing the documentation of its slapdash reinstallation of the Alaska Air door plug that fell off its plane in flight: the company says it's not criminally liable for failing to provide the paperwork, because it never documented the repair. Not documenting the repair is also a crime.

You might have heard that there's some accountability coming to the Boeing boardroom, with the ouster of CEO David Calhoun. Calhoun's likely successor is Patrick Shanahan, whom Tkacik describes as "the architect of the ethos that governed the 787 program" and whom her source called "a classic schoolyard bully."

If Shanahan's name rings a bell, it might be because he was almost Trump's Secretary of Defense, but that was derailed by the news that he had "emphatically defended" his 17 year old son after the boy nearly beat his mother to death with a baseball bat. Shanahan is presently CEO of Spirit Aerospace, who made the door-plug that fell out of the Alaska Airlines 737 Max.

Boeing is a company where senior managers only fail up and where whistleblowers are terrorized in and out of the workplace. One of Tkacik's sources noticed his car shimmying. The source, an ex-787 worker who'd been fired after raising safety complaints, had tried to bring an AIR21 complaint, but withdrew it out of fear of being bankrupted if he was ordered to pay Boeing's legal costs. When the whistleblower pulled over, he discovered that two of the lug-nuts had been removed from one of his wheels.

The whistleblower texted Tkcacik to say (not for the first time): "If anything happens, I'm not suicidal."

Boeing is a primary aerospace contractor to the US government. It's clear that its management – and investors – consider it too big to jail. It's also clear that they know it's too big to fail – after all, the company did a $43b stock buyback, then got billions in a publicly funded buyback.

Boeing is, effectively, a government agency that is run for the benefit of its investors. It performs its own safety inspections. It investigates its own criminal violations of safety rules. It loots its own coffers and then refills them at public expense.

Meanwhile, the company has filled our skies with at least 420 airplanes with defective, red-painted parts that were locked up in the MRSA cage, then snuck out and fitted to an airplane that you or someone you love could fly on the next time you take your family on vacation or fly somewhere for work.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/01/boeing-boeing/#mrsa

Image: Tom Axford 1 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blue_sky_with_wisps_of_cloud_on_a_clear_summer_morning.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

--

Clemens Vasters (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:N7379E_-_Boeing_737_MAX_9.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 6

After the park, all Abby could talk about was her day with Bucky. Even when her eyes were closed, she kept chatting away, past her bedtime. Part of you found it adorable & the other part had you worried. Abby is way to attached for your liking.

Jason was an absent father, but that still doesn't mean Abby didn't miss him or wasn't affected by his death. He died in a plane crash. His daredevil ways that first attracted you to him was the same reason you were alone now. He wasn't brave & heroic, dying for his country or on a mission. He was foolish and selfish, hot-dogging it when he lost control of his aircraft. Most people dropped the subject after you say he died in a plane crash, assuming it was work related. He was stupid. Always chasing the next high. The next rush. He had a wife and baby at home. He should have been thinking of you and Abby.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt to Bucky, but look at his job. He was an Avenger for God's sake! The bad guys he chases were much worse than your common criminals. The risks were much higher. You were second-guessing you decision in exposing Abby to Bucky. Not that you could truly stop it. Abby was drawn to him at first sight.

*****

"There you are." Bucky enters your office & sits in the chair opposite your desk.

Pushing your lunch to the side, "Hey Buck, did you need something?"

"For the past couple days I thought I'd see you in the cafeteria."

"Sounds like high school," laughing, "I was studying in the library." Bucky frowns at you, "I usually bring home lunch so i eat in my office. It's easier."

Leaning forward, "Well, tomorrow, would you have lunch with me? We don't have to stay here. We can go to this diner around the corner. Their burgers are pretty great." He picks up that you're unsure. "C'mon, doll. I know you want to."

You laugh at his ego. I mean, he wasn't wrong. "Ok."

"I'll swing by around 1p. Is that too late?"

"No, that's fine."

"Then its a date."

"It's not a date. It's lunch." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a look. Its a date.

******

That night at the gym with Sam, Sam broaches a subject that the others were shying away from. "I saw you leaving with Y/N earlier."

"We went to the diner for lunch."

"So, what's going on with you two?"

Bucky shrugs, "Just 2 friends having lunch."

"MmmHmmm. Do you know what you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N's a special breed. She's a single mother. She don't need you wasting her time. You take on extra responsibilities if you start dating her."

"Relax."

"I'm just saying, you can easily find someone else to kill time with. You string her along, she's not the only one you'll be hurting. From what i hear, her daughter is obsessed with you."

"We went on a picnic & lunch. We're still figuring out what this is."

"And that's fine. Just keep in mind she brings more to the table than just herself."

"Ok, got it. Lecture over?"

Sam shrugs and leaves the gym.

*****

"Mama?"

"Yes."

"When am I seeing Bucky again?"

"I don't know, baby. He's very busy with work." You feel a little guilty at how badly Abby wants to see Bucky & you've been having lunch with him everyday for the past couple weeks. He's been dropping by your office with his own lunch to spend time with you.

"Can I asks him? I can draws him a letter." You laugh but stop when you see the earnest little look on her face.

"You know what? That sounds like a very good idea. Maybe you can invite him over to watch a movie & then dinner?"

Abby screams, climbing on the couch to give you a wet kiss on your cheek. "Bucky comes to my house??"

You release a deep breath, "Yes, you can invite him here." She runs off to her room to draw his letter. You lean your head back on the couch hoping you made the right choice.

*****

LIke clockwork, Bucky shows up at 1pm for lunch with you. You slide Abby's drawing across the desk to him. He has a smile on his face even before he opens it. When he opens it, his smile freezes and he looks between you and Abby's drawing. You cover your lips with your fingertips while you watch him, trying to suppress a smile.

"Doll, you're going to have to help me out here. Wh...what am I looking at?"

"What? You can't figure it out?" Bucky is put on the spot. "You're lucky Abby isn't here." You tap the left side of the picture. "What's this?"

"It looks like guts and eyeballs."

"Bucky!!"

"I don't know."

"It's spaghetti and meatballs."

"Oh! Ok. So this is us," indicating 3 stick figures in the middle. "And...I need help again. "This isn't brains."

"Jesus! You're terrible at this. It's a bowl of popcorn. Abby is trying to invite you over for a movie and dinner at our place."

Bucky laughs so hard, he has to rest his head on your desk. "So, I'm not invited over to commit a murder, because I don't do that anymore."

"My baby does NOT murder people! I'm not sure I want you over anymore."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry." He grabs your hand from across the desk & kisses your knuckles. "Please don't take away the invite. I want to come over."

"Will you be free this Saturday?"

"Yes, I leave next week for a mission, but I'll be here on Saturday."

"Ok," you text him your address. "Maybe 3p? It'll be after her nap & we can watch a movie before dinner."

"Thank you, I'll be there." He give you his charming smile & you have to look away. You hope this isn't a mistake.

Next Chapter

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan

[tetragonia]

Midnight Repair Shop

John "Bucky" Egan x Female!Mechanic!Reader

Blurb: In the middle of the night, accompanied with the choruses of men from the Officer’s pub afar, Bucky saw the hangar light was on. He peeked and found Jerry to his Tom—(Y/N), one of the mechanics whose side job apparently was to annoy him. It was that one time when Bucky and (Y/N) repaired not only the plane, but somehow their whole dynamics all these months.

warning: inaccuracies especially with the mechanical terms because I'm not used to them and just looked em up from the internet. also, maybe weird phrasing or grammatical incorrect since English is not my first language. pls let me know what I could do better <3

note: pure fluff and giggles, some arguments but all is good with our Bucky. this is my first mota fic out there and why shouldn't i choose our antic Bucky as the main character? ;) also, this is based on the portrayal of the actors from Masters of the Air. all respect to the veterans and family

words: 3160 (sorry!)

It was a sunny day as the sun was casting a golden hue over Thorpe Abbotts, the distant hum of aircraft engines signaled the approach of returning fighter planes. Among them was Major John Egan–”it’s just me, Bucky’s fine”–his B-17 streaking through the sky and leading the squadron. It was not an easy mission, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. The route was clear and the enemy’s cover was minimum.

With steady hands, Bucky guided his aircraft toward the runway as his eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble. The roar of the engine filled the cockpit as he made minute adjustments to his altitude and speed, preparing for the critical moment of touchdown.

As the wheels of his B-17 made contact with the tarmac, Bucky maneuvered and smoothly brought it to a stop with. The plane rolled to a halt, its engine purring contentedly as Bucky taxied toward the waiting ground crew.

You were one of the ground crews, a skilled mechanic around the base. People knew your work ethic and they damn respected you out of it. And that clearly gave some benefits around here.

“Back from another joyride, Major?”

You emphasized the rank as Bucky made his way out from the cockpit. His flight suit was slightly disheveled, his hair was a bit scruffy but his smile was as bright as the summer sun. Brady jumped out, his eyes scanned you and Bucky.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Capt,” you tilted your chin and raised your eyebrows slightly to acknowledge his presence.

“Joyride?” Bucky pulled your attention back at him. “More like a death-defying adventure, (Y/N). You know, I like to keep things exciting.”

“That ain’t exciting, bud,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

You wasted no time inspecting the plane, your expert eye quickly picking up on any signs of damage. Still locking your eyes to the plane, you said, “I swear, Bucky, if next time you come back with another dent in your plane, I’m going to start charging you for the repairs. And trust me, it ain’t cheap.”

“Did you just threaten me?” he let out a dramatic gasp, putting his hand in front of his chest. “You know, I think I’m starting to rub off on you. After all, it truly takes a special kind of person to keep up with a pilot like me.”

Your hands ran through the plane’s body, bullet holes were scattered and some flak damages were tattooed to the metal skin. You suspected there were some engine reduction from the enemy’s fire, as well as control surface damage.

“You’re not the only one keeping me busy. I have plenty of other pilots crashing their planes too, creating these cute little bends and missing some rivets,” you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes again.

“You know, (Y/N), I’m starting to think you have a thing for me crashing. How else do you explain always being there to fix up my messes?” still in his dramatic tone, he raised an eyebrow at you.

You turned your head to him, trying to mimic his dramatic gasp earlied, “Oh my God! Weird thing is, I can’t imagine having this thing called a job! Have you ever heard of that?”

You lost count on rolling your eyes at him. He laughed faintly and started to walk away from you. 

“Hey, (Y/N), if I had a penny for every time you gave me that look of disapproval, I’d have enough to buy myself a damn new plane. One that doesn’t need fixing every time I fly it.”

“Spare your voice for the interrogation, Bucky, you’re just talking shit right now,” you said dismissively. You could hear his ragged breath from your place, that man clearly needed to at least have a good hot chow.

“Ouch, that stings.”

Despite your dismissive tone, you couldn’t help but to let a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the darkness draped itself over Thorpe Abbotts like a heavy cloak, the Officer's pub emerged as a sanctuary of warmth and light. The air was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, faint laughters could be heard from afar. Bucky Egan was bathed in a warm, golden light from the row of lanterns that lined the walls. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling above him, their darkened surfaces reflecting the soft glow of the fire roaring in the hearth.

Around the room, Bucky found himself gathered at wooden tables with other airmen as the air was thick with the scent of pipe tobacco and the familiar aroma of alcohol, mingling with the lively strains of a piano being played in the corner.

“I don’t know, man. You seem pretty tipsy already,” Buck Cleven shook his head with a chuckle when Bucky offered to buy them another round of drinks. “I don’t want you stumbling into any trouble, you know.”

Hearing what his buddy said, Bucky laughed. “Me? Trouble? Com on, Buck, you know me better than that. I can handle myself just fine! Look at this.”

Bucky tried to jump from his seat to buy another round, but then he stumbled and let the men laugh as he landed in a weird position.

“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing with them too. He was just too damn charming to be ashamed, it’s alarming.

“No more drinks,” Bucky said, God knows to Buck or to himself.

“No more drinks,” Buck hummed the same chorus. Bucky laughed, shook his head faintly.

“I’m gonna head back,” he eventually reached a decision. “And I don’t want any of you to take me, feel like flying solo tonight. ‘Kay?”

“Sure, Bucky, whatever you want,” Brady laughed as he sipped his glass. With that, Bucky stumbled out into the cool night air, leaving the sounds of laughter and conversation that faded behind him. He took a deep breath, the crisp night air helped him clearing his muddled mind as he made his unsteady steps back to his barrack.

Humming sporadic notes from Bing Crosby, he noticed a faint flickering light shined through the windows from a hangar nearby with its door ajar. Curious, and perhaps a little tipsy, he decided to investigate.

Who the hell works at this hour, he thought to himself. With a curious tilt of his head, he veered off course, his feet guiding him toward the source of lights. Peeking a bit, he was greeted by the sight of your back, working on his plane.

Bucky sauntered in, his flight jacket slung over one shoulder, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh contrast after the darkness outside. Blinking rapidly, he stumbled forward, laughing at his own stupidity. And he might or might not realize that he always felt way more stupid around you, throwing all those flirts and banters like a loony.

“Hey there, (Y/N)! Patching up the old birds, are we?” Bucky slurred slightly. 

You turned your head at him, still on your workbench raising an eyebrow at Bucky’s disheveled appearance.

“Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink tonight,” you made a remark as you continued working gunning the rivets. “Too much liquid courage at the pub?”

Bucky chuckled, he leaned against a nearby box for support. “Liquid courage? More like liquid genius! But hey, I couldn’t resist the chance to see your pretty face before I hit the hay.”

Bucky grinned stupidly at your back as he heard you replied monotonously, “Oh lucky me. The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”

He laughed at your dry response, stepped in. “Nah, just needed a little pick-me-up after a long day of saving the world. You know how it is.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile at Bucky’s antics. You’ve gotten used to all that now, working side by side for a couple months.

“Yeah, yeah, the brave pilot routine. I’ve heard it all before. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

As Bucky watched you expertly finish tinkering the body, you couldn’t help but admire your skill and determination. God knows since when you had worked on his plane today!

He leaned against the nearby workbench, his grin widening. “It’s your touch that keeps her purring, (Y/N). Without you, she’d be just another hunk of metal gathering dust.”

You rolled your eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, flyboy. You’re not fooling anyone with your smooth talk.”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts!”

“Yeah, and Hitler’s a good man. Now do me a favor, hand me the rivet gun over there,” you asked, tilting your head to the tool box.

Your hand brushed with his as he handed you the rivet gun. The wind suddenly swirled around the hangar and you shuddered at the chills down your spine. You took the gun swiftly and placed it over the exposed end of the rivet shaft. You securely fastened patches of those new aluminum sheets metal onto the wing, covering the bullet holes.

You’d been fixing the engine with Ken all day, finished just before the curfew. To clear your mind, you decided to fix the panels tonight as you asked Ken to get a hot chow. After some good arguments thrown from you, Ken gave up and walked away.

And here you were, in the hangar with the famous Bucky Egan. You’d been working with him for months, yet you didn’t know if he made all those compliments and flattery to other women as well. There weren’t any female mechanics around here and you knew he had his own way with women.

Flattery didn’t get him anywhere, but it got you somewhere. 

You decided to break the silence, “You know, Bucky, I’m starting to think you pilots have a secret competition to see who can wreck their plane the most. Am I right?”

To hide whatever feelings that tried to surface, you put your familiar mask–strict, to the point, and sometimes a bit offensive. That way, you could protect yourself.

“Am clearly the best,” from the corner of your eyes, you could see him nodded and smiling. Suddenly it was so infuriating, how smiley he always was, how cheerful and friendly he was to you. How easy he was to throw compliments, and how easy he was to look at her with such adoration.

“Yeah, I've always thought you were a great pilot. Shame you're not quite as good at keeping your plane in one piece.”

You were unable to keep your feelings now. It was bottled up all this time. You were tired, hungry, and thirsty. You were vulnerable.

“Hey, hey, now,” Bucky might be a bit drunk but he wasn’t stupid. Something in the air shifted, your tone was harsh. Too harsh for his liking and your own good. Your tone was aggressive and he felt like you tried to hurt him with your remarks. Usually, they were all harmless, he even found you funny. But what was with the sudden change of tone?

“Come on, now. Why do you always pick on me?” Bucky tried to remain calm.

Forgot being calm! You were raging all of sudden. “Why would I pick on you, stop being so full of yourself.”

That’s it. That was the last straw.

“Hey, that stings!” Bucky was flustered, he walked closer to you, gaze piercing your back.

You sighed. You’re tired. You’ve been working all day and haven’t eaten since 8 am. It’s somewhere over 12 am now.

Fuck, you muttered to yourself. You need to shape the replacement panels to match the contours of the wing’s surface before riveting them. You got up and walked to the sheet metal bender, but Bucky stopped you.

With the faint hangar light on top of you both, now Bucky could fully take a look at your current state. You knew you looked terrible.

“Okay, you need to stop,” Bucky sighed. “Go to your barrack. You need to sleep.”

“I need to work.”

“She can wait. I’ll ask Lemmons to patch her up early in the morning,” Bucky said, his voice was authoritative. “Now, let’s get you some sleep.”

“No,” you tried to walk to the metal bender but his grip was strong.

“Come on, or I’m gonna abduct you.”

You almost rolled your eyes at that, but he quickly swept you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

Despite the serious and cold air surrounding you both earlier, you could see how Bucky giggled. You always acted all tough, but you were just a girl for him. Your strength couldn’t even match him.

She’s cute, you didn’t know Bucky thought that right now.

He thought this was all just a joke, your mind stated.

“Nah, I’ll put you on your bed myself.”

You huffed in frustration, your attempts to free yourself only serving to make Bucky hold on tighter. "This isn't funny, Bucky! Put me down right now!"

But before Bucky could respond, his foot caught on a stray toolbox lying on the floor, sending you both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs. With a yelp of surprise, you landed on top of him, your bodies pressed together in an awkward and unexpected embrace.

For a moment, you lay there in stunned silence, the only sound filling the air was the pounding of your hearts. 

With a stupid grin on his face, Bucky smiled surprisingly sweetly, “Hello.”

As the realization of your predicament sunk in, your cheeks flushed crimson, maybe with anger or maybe with something else.

"Are you kidding me, Bucky?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself off him with a scowl. "I told you to put me down!"

Bucky winced while grinning sheepishly, rubbing his head where it had collided with the floor. He was fully sober now, thanks for the thud. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean for us to fall."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your expression still stormy. "Well, it's not funny. You could have seriously injured yourself. You’re one of the best pilots we’ve got, what would happen if you got hurt?!"

Bucky sighed, his earlier amusement fading as he met your angry gaze. He got up, walked a step closer to you. 

"You need to be worried about yourself. What is it, (Y/N)? You’re not usually this… tensed. Is something bothering you?”

Bucky put his hand on your shoulder. You stiffened at his touch, jerking away as if scalded. 

"I'm fine," you snapped, your tone once again sharp and defensive.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Hey, I was just asking. You don't have to bite my head off."

You didn’t want to meet his gaze. Your eyes wandered to the floor that suddenly became so interesting.

But you knew that Bucky wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily. "I don't buy it, (Y/N). You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

You scoffed, rubbed your eyes slowly, “It’s nothing.”

“Hey, tell me,” Bucky now grabbed your arms and once again you stiffened at his gesture. You looked up as your gaze fell to his, eyes blinked rapidly. Your cheeks flushed as you once again broke eye contact and looked at the new interesting thing: the metal bender.

And a realization hit Bucky like a lightning. The way you laughed or rolled your eyes at his jokes despite being known as a serious fella, the way you looked at him before he took off, the way you always kept some distance…

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice softened. “I’ve never been this straightforward, but we don’t have much time… Do you like me?”

He could feel your muscles tensed under his touch. You still refused to look at him.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Where did the tough, no-nonsense (Y/N) go?

“Hey, (Y/N), look at me,” Bucky asked you gently. He knew for sure that you held a feeling for him and he was too damn stupid to realize. He tried so hard to suppress his smile.

You looked up, his expression was soft and his eyes fixed on you with a gleam that made the butterflies crazy inside your stomach.  You thought about every possible reaction: rejections, lots of yelling, a broken respect and trust, no more jokes and friendships… But you didn’t expect when he leaned closer and brought you in, when his lips touched yours with a gentleness you could only imagine.

Bucky’s lips tasted like a good amount of mint and alcohol mixture. You were intoxicated. He put his hand on your hip, the other caressed your cheek. His touch was a gentle yet firm anchor, drawing you closer to him in a silent declaration of desire. Your fingers traced the curves of your hips with a tender reverence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you melted into his embrace.

He’d never imagine touching you, grabbing your crinkled jumpsuit as he kissed you deeper, his hands wandered. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore. His hands, strong and sure from years of training, held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His touch was both possessive and protective all at once.

When you both pulled away, trying to catch a breath, you saw Bucky smiling. His hands were still on your hips, now the right one stroke your cheek and your lips.

"You know, (Y/N), I've always admired you. The way you always know your way around an engine, your work ethic, your remarks, your replies to my jokes… I've always thought you were pretty amazing,” he whispered. “The way you handle those machines... it's something else. That’s why I always send my plane to you."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected compliments, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. You were anything but flushed and fluttered.

"Well, I guess someone has to keep you flyboys in the air. Can't have you crashing and burning without us, right? You better treat her right up there or I'll make sure your next landing isn't so smooth."

Bucky grinned, feeling a surge of confidence after a heavy cloud towering you both  earlier.

"Hey, what do you say we had a drink tomorrow? I’d like to discuss tonight's matter, after you had a good rest of course.”

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Bucky outside of work. You were exhausted, but after what happened tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.

"I suppose one drink couldn't hurt. But don't think this means I'm going easy on you, Bucky. I've got a reputation to uphold, after all."

[nocternalrandomness]

AC-130W Stinger II from the 16th SOS is parked in preparation for Luke Days 2018.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Well I’ll Be Damned

Label Mature 18+

Summary Even though Major Gale has been captured in a war camp, it doesn’t stop him from being located and receiving letters from back home. One day, amidst the routine stack of mail, he receives an unexpected letter scented with a familiar perfume. The letter ignites his passion for his love back home, rousing him and giving him hope amidst the bleakness of his captivity.

💝Romantic Smut 💝 lovelorn•edging•handjob•ejaculating •semi private

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Gifs @seaside-storm @mads-nixon

Well I’ll Be Damned

Major Gale awoke from his bunk and prepared for his mission of the day. He was stationed on an American base in Germany far from the comforts of his base back home. The barracks were cramped, each soldier allotted a narrow bed with barely enough room to store their personal belongings. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and metal.

Once showered and dressed Gale dug into to his rucksack at his bed and pulled one of your letters. It was one of his favorites when you teased him about a lingerie set you had purchased. As he unfolded the paper the picture of you wearing it untucked from the page. He looked over it with a smile before tucking it into his breast pocket.

Your professional portrait was always tacked into the windshield frame of his aircraft, serving as a constant reminder of you. But this one was special he looked at it almost every night.

On this particular day, he carried the lingerie photo with him instead of leaving it on base, the weight of separation from you feeling heavier than usual.

You had both written each other as frequently as possible, just as you had promised. Despite the distance, your words were a source of comfort for him in the midst of uncertainty. As he headed to the tarmac for another transport mission the longing for home weighed heavily on his heart.

Major Gale inspected the exterior of his plane before takeoff, a ritual he followed religiously. As a superstition he ran his hand along the hull feeling the smooth surface where previous bullet holes had been plated and painted over. The scars of past battles served as a reminder of the dangers that awaited them in the skies.

His men greeted him as they loaded into the aircraft, their expressions betraying the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each one understood the risks they faced, but their determination to complete the mission remained unwavering.

The mission over Germany promised to be just as dangerous as those that came before. With a sense of foreboding gnawing at his insides Gale felt a tightness in his as he sat his pilots seat and placed his hand on the hull taking a moment to let it settle.

His copilot’s concerned inquiry broke through the silence, “You alright, Major?” He asked. Gale’s response was stoic but strained, “Yeah I’ll be fine.” He reassured him.

As Gale buckled into the pilot’s seat the weight of the impending danger pressed down on him. Despite his attempts to shake off the uneasiness, it lingered casting a shadow over his thoughts. With a steely resolve he performed his preflight checks but each motion reminded him of the risks that awaited them in the skies above the enemy.

He gazed at your picture nestled in the seal of his windshield and traced his finger along it the last of his set rituals before takeoff. It was a moment of quiet reflection amidst the chaos of preparation, a final connection to you beyond the confines of war. With a lingering touch, he silently drew strength from your image, a reminder of the love and support that awaited him on his return.

As they took off that day, the roar of the engines drowned out any sense of impending danger. Major Gale’s crew had become accustomed to the risks of flying over enemy territory, but today, their luck seemed to have run out.

With a sudden jolt the aircraft shuddered violently as enemy fire tore through its metal frame severing cables and rendering the engine useless.

Major Gale’s heart pounded against his chest as he wrestled with the controls trying desperately to stabilize the plummeting aircraft. Amidst the deafening cacophony of gunfire he barked orders to his men his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of hope.

“We’re in a controlled descent. Let’s hope we make it across the border. Prepare to bail!” he yelled his words tinged with urgency. His co-pilot guided the men through the cramped cabin ensuring each one was securely fastened into their parachute harness.

As the aircraft continued its descent Major Gale made the split-second decision.

“Bail out! Now!” he commanded his voice unwavering despite the imminent danger. With practiced precision his men leaped from the aircraft their parachutes unfurling like giant billowing sails against the stormy sky.

With his last man safely away Major Gale took a deep breath and prepared to make his own exit. With a swift motion he left the controls donned his parachute and flung himself from the doomed aircraft. The rush of wind whipped against his face as he hurtled towards the earth below his senses on high alert.

As he descended Major Gale scanned the landscape for a safe landing zone. Spotting a farmhouse nestled amidst the rolling fields below he adjusted his course and steered towards it. With a practiced hand he deployed his parachute feeling the reassuring tug as it billowed open above.

Overshooting his landing Major Gale crashed through the front door of the farmhouse and through the kitchen colliding into the stove sending pots and pans clattering to the ground. His heart was still racing from the adrenaline-fueled descent.

His abrupt entrance startled the inhabitants. A Mama and Papa who stared at him with a mixture of fear and anger.

Amidst the chaos in the kitchen, the Mama’s cries filled the air accusing him of being a Luftgangster a ‘terror flyer’. The Papa fueled by anger and fear for his safety grabbed a nearby pitchfork and joined his wife in the kitchen.

As Gale lay on his back, attempting to calm the situation in broken German with his hands outstretched, the Papa approached him and raised the pitchfork threateningly. Desperately, Gale tried to convey that he meant no harm, that he was merely a soldier caught in the chaos of war.

With a tense standoff in the cramped kitchen, Major Gale slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, using the other to unhook his parachute to show he was unarmed. The Papa, still wary but sensing no immediate threat, allowed Gale to stand.

Backing out of the ruined kitchen onto the porch Major Gale turned to look over the field in search of any of his men, instead he was met with a chilling sight. The horizon was dotted with German soldiers converging on his location. With a sinking heart he realized the grim reality of the situation they had been discovered by the enemy.

As German soldiers closed in Gale’s mind raced, his thoughts consumed by the harrowing prospect of captivity. Despite his best efforts, he was no match for the overwhelming force of the German soldiers and soon found himself being dragged away, his fate along with his fellow soldiers captured nearby now in the hands of his captors.

War Camp

In the grim confines of the POW camp, Major Gale found himself thrust into a world of harsh realities and stark contrasts. Surrounded by towering barbed wire fences and guarded by soldiers whose cruelty seemed endless Major Gale and his fellow prisoners faced each day with a mixture of resilience and despair.

As he adjusted to life in captivity, Gale was struck by the surprising quaintness of the camp’s conditions. The barracks though sparse and cramped, resembled dormitories rather than the grim cells he had expected. Wooden bunks lined the walls their mattresses worn thin from years of use. Despite the grim surroundings companionship flourished among the men, their shared experiences forged bonds that went beyond the confines of their captivity.

Amidst the bleakness of his surroundings a glimmer of hope flickered within Gale knowing that the American army was aware of the imprisoned US soldiers. They sent food and supplies frequently keeping the men fed and healthy. The realization that they hadn’t been forgotten lifted his spirits and renewed his determination as he endured.

Days turned into weeks and he even began receiving letters from home once the military confirmed his location as a prisoner in the camp. It fueled his hope dramatically especially the heartfelt ones he received from you in the US.

Each word penned with longing and affection became his lifeline amidst the harsh realities of captivity. He longed for your touch, your voice, your presence to soothe the ache in his heart.

Each time he received one of your letters his heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands he would retreat to his barrack, finding solace at the table inside as he read every word as if it were a precious gift. But it wasn’t just the words that lifted his spirits. Nestled within each envelope was a picture for him a beacon of light in the midst of darkness.

Despite the hardships of his captivity, Gale always responded to your letters with stoic resolve his replies reflecting his strength and determination.

One afternoon as he received his stack of letters, a surprising one stood out among the rest with the scent of perfume. As he opened the envelope the faint smell of your aroma gently filled the air exciting him. He began reading the letter slowly, and his eyes widened in surprise as he read the contents. A departure from your usual tender words the letter was filled with daring and provocative sexual language.

Quickly closing the letter Gale felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart was pounding in his chest. Undeniably aroused by the unexpected turn he carefully stored the letter away for later that night, eager to indulge in its contents in the privacy of his bunk.

After the final count and the lights out Gale waited until the cabin fell silent the only sound the soft breathing of his fellow soldiers. With practiced stealth he climbed out of bed and made his way to the window, the moonlight was casting a radiant glow across the room.

Opening the window he let the cool night air wash over him a welcome feeling from the stifling confines of the barracks. Then with anticipation, he climbed back into bed, his heart racing as he retrieved the letter from its hiding place under his pillow.

In the soft glow of the moonlight Gale unfolded the letter once more his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. As he opened the pages an unassuming photo of you slipped from its confines, falling into his hand.

He gazed at the new image and a sudden rush of warmth flooded his senses. Your hair had grown longer, framing your face with a natural elegance. Your eyes were bright and expressive and your skin glowed with a healthy radiance as a gentle smile played on your lips. The image of you made Gale smile in return. He traced the contours of your face with his thumb lingering on your eyes and lips feeling a deep connection despite the distance.

He then pressed the letter to his face inhaling deeply. The scent of your perfume on the paper was a delicate reminder of your presence momentarily transporting him away from the grim confines of the camp to a place where he felt your warmth and love.

He glanced at the photo of you in his hand again noticing its unusual thickness compared to the others, he felt a flicker of curiosity.

As he began reading your letter, the anticipation for the provocative words built within him and by the time he reached the explicit part, his pulse was racing with excitement.

—“I had my best friend set up this photo for you Gale, she saw me fully nude and everything. Then I took risqué photos of her to send to her man of war too. Quite the little harlots we are as you would say, but I’ll tell you more about that later. I tacked the naughty photo to a harmless one and put it in this letter. I plan to send you more, I want you thoroughly satisfying yourself while you’re away from me.”—

Gale’s eyes widened in shock as he looked over at the photo in his hand, quickly setting your letter down on his stomach. He carefully peeled the photos apart, revealing one of you fully nude underneath.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked meticulously over your form; every curve and contour seemed to come alive in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming from the window. His eyes lingered on the gentle slope of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the elegant line of your legs, with his gaze pausing at the thin patch of hair between your legs making him overcome with sexual desire.

The realization slowly dawned on him that he wouldn’t have to rely on the lingerie photo of you anymore.

Gale felt a surge of arousal coursing through him the longer he stared at the image, his length already hardening just from the mere sight of you. Every inch of your body seemed to captivate him, igniting a fire within that made him feel alive in the bleakness of captivity.

Gale’s breathing grew heavy as desire surged through him, his body responding instinctively to the tantalizing image before him. He reached down and lowered his pajama pants and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free in anticipation.

Grasping himself firmly at the base, he picked up your letter once more, the paper slightly crumpled from his earlier excitement and he began to read again.

—“Before I penned this letter, I want to tell you what you made me do to myself, and your hand better be on that large of cock of yours as you read it Buck.”—

Gale chuckled you knew him all to well. He read your words with eagerness as he began to stroke himself knowing you planned to make him finish as he continued:

—“I laid in bed fully naked for you, trailing my hand over my body as I looked at your handsome picture. I pretended it was your large hand teasing me, imagining the warmth and roughness of your touch. I rested your photo down beside me, your image captured in my mind. I closed my eyes, picturing you above me, your strong body pressing against mine, your breath hot on my skin. My own fingers became your fingers as I traced delicate patterns over my clit, each touch a tantalizing prelude to what I imagined you would do. When I pushed my fingers inside myself, it felt as if it were you, each thrust igniting a fire of desire within me. As I lost myself in the fantasy of you, the intensity built until I was writhing with pleasure, and finally, I orgasmed, your name a whispered prayer on my lips as waves of ecstasy washed over me.”—

Gale dropped the letter on his bed, already fully stroking his erect cock. His head rested back on the pillow as he tried to stifle his soft sighs. He imagined, instead of your fingers, he was plunging his cock inside your tight walls, recalling how he could make you moan so loudly you would wake the neighbors.

His hand moved faster, his jerking becoming almost violent, each tug bringing him closer to what he wanted. His strokes shortened and his grip tightened, and he began making quicker, more intense movements. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

With his free hand, he reached down to gently cup his testis squeezing them to add an extra layer of stimulation. He alternated between firm and gentle strokes, his breathing growing more ragged. The image of you, lost in pleasure, fueling his arousal. He increased the pace, his cock slick with precum, the friction driving him wild. His hips bucked instinctively, pushing into his hand as if he were inside you.

Gale’s soft sighs turned into low groans, each one more desperate than the last. He could almost hear your voice, whispering words of encouragement, spurring him on. The pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his movements became frenzied. His hand moved in a blur, every nerve in his body focused on the growing sensation in his groin.

Finally with a sharp intake of breath and a final forceful stroke he felt himself tip over the edge. His body tensed and he released with a powerful orgasm, his cum spilling over his hand and stomach. He continued to stroke himself through the aftershocks, his breaths coming in heavy, ragged gasps, the intensity of his release leaving him momentarily lightheaded. Gale lay there spent and satisfied with the lingering image of you in his mind comforting him in the darkness of captivity.

He removed his shirt using it to clean his cum from his hand and stomach. Then with careful hands he folded your letter back up along with the pictures tucking them both securely under his pillow.

He quietly slipped out of his bunk, now shirtless, and closed the window, ensuring everything was as he left it before he settled in for the night.

As he lay back in bed, he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. The release had brought him a rare sense of peace. Thoughts of you swirled in his mind as he slowly interlaced his fingers over his abdomen, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

The familiar ache of longing was soothed by the intimacy of the moment he had shared with your image and words. With his eyes closed he allowed himself to drift into a deep sleep.

That night, Gale slept more soundly than he had in weeks. The comfort of your love wrapped around him like a warm blanket, chasing away the cold harshness of captivity. His dreams were filled with vivid images of you, your touch, your voice, your presence. In his dreams, he was in your embrace. The peace of his slumber showed the powerful connection he felt for you even from afar, giving him the strength to endure.

🪖 END 🪖

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[aviationd]

The special mission aircraft market report covers current market size and 10 year special mission aircraft market forecast. It is segmented by application, region and fitment