#I just spun this off in 5 mins so there’s probably better ways to plot this and make it more fun and interesting

[logicheartsoul]

Since I’m sitting here waiting for my flight, I had some thoughts. I’ve read a few fics where Sam and Bucky have meet cutes in airplanes and a couple of meet uglies adjacent to flying (but trip related and then later they encounter in the airport), but what about meet uglies in the gate?

Maybe the two of them are waiting for a flight to New York or DC and while the two of them think damn that guy is hot something happens, maybe someone bumps into someone and gets a drink spilled all over or something of the sort. It’s an annoyance but then they sit in different areas away but somehow still in eye contact range lol

But then it comes to boarding and then it turns out they’re seated next to each other. What are the odds. Now they have to handle this flight and maybe they normally wouldn’t be as annoyed but they both had to deal with obstacles getting to the airport for different reasons so they just wanted to chill once they made it through security and on the plane.

So they kinda rub on each other verbally but also they really start getting into the banter so suddenly it’s not just like “ugh you got my shirt ruined and I didn’t pack one in my carryon!” But like “you like WHAT on your pizza??” Type vibes.

Anyways that leads to admitting things they wouldn’t normally say in a first time encounter with someone but it’s not like they’re seeing each other again, right? They’re on separate vacations and just happen to be on the same flight.

Wrong.

Now they’ve gotten their luggage and their separate ways but when their rides take them to the same place?

Looks like their vacations got a whole lot more interesting.

(Even funnier is if the place they’re meeting at is like Steve’s wedding or something and they’re groomsmen lol But any other variations of where they meet is fun!)

[kisskissbanggang]

Standby pt. 2

[~10 Min. Read/3.2K Words – Bang Chan x Female Reader – Idol!AU – NSFW/Smut, Some Emerging Plot – Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Impulsive Decisions, Stressful Job Situations, Sneaking Around, One-Sided Feelings(?), Acting Professional]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

Your sneakers slapped the bruised linoleum floor of the terminal, sprinting each time you were out of sight of a huge crowd. Honestly, you fit in with every other rushing traveler in the busy concourse. Time, as always, was of the essence, and you only had so much before this comically bad situation got worse.

The group had already been late leaving for the airport that morning. It was as rough of a time as any, only made worse by being in preparation of an international flight. Bags were being packed and reviewed, passports were being gathered, and everyone was already tired. By the time the group left the dorm, you all had barely any time to make your plane. Arriving at the airport, however, turned the whole debacle into an entirely different beast. Other countries, other industries, used service hallways and back entrances for high profile travelers. Hyun-Jae-unnie made it very clear to you from your first flight with the group that the whole point of going to the airport wasn't so much to travel as it was to be seen traveling. It was no secret that fans always mysteriously knew when the band would be flying.

On this particularly rainy morning, all the fanfare was waiting inside Departures like a bubbling volcano. The sliding doors opened and you flinched at the barrage of flashing lights as you all rushed through check-in and security. Pushing through a bombardment of various intrusions, both professional and not, you all finally made it onto the plane safely with only minutes to spare.

Until your mentor yanked on your carry-on strap. Hyun-Jae-unnie looked frantic, her eyes screaming.

"We're not all here. Didn't you do the head count while I checked us in?"

You could feel the color drain from your face. In all the commotion, you had only heard "head count" and nothing else. You'd assumed she was just saying that she was taking care of it.

"Because," she continued, her pallid complexion looking dire, "guess who just texted me as I was turning on airplane mode?" She pushed her phone into your hands.

Chan.

You whipped your head around. The rest of the boys and staff looked just as confused as you felt. Hyun-Jae-unnie snatched her phone back from you, her other hand clutching your shoulder.

"Fix it."

"But, Unnie -- " you began weakly.

"But nothing. I trusted you to do something, and since you didn't, now I'm trusting you to fix it. I know you can. So do it. Rehearsal is tomorrow morning, 8AM local time. Be there, with Bang Chan."

You had taken three minutes to hyperventilate in the jet bridge once you deplaned, and now you were sprinting through the terminal looking for your worst nightmare: a lost idol. An odd phenomenon caught your eye. Bands of students and teenage girls were milling about. You assumed you must be on the right trail. Time and time again you checked your phone, praying that Chan would get back to you since you texted him the moment you were off the plane. You began ducking into each and every shop on the concourse, looking down every aisle and around each display in hopes of finding him, all while attempting to not draw attention. You turned a corner in the shop you were currently searching when a hand darted out and clamped over your mouth. You were dragged back into a half bear hug, half chokehold, as you tried to gain all the will and strength you had left to unquestionably destroy whoever was daring to add to your misery today.

"Thank god I found you!" Chan quietly exulted. "This has been an absolute disaster." You spun around, excitedly flinging your arms around him before you could stop yourself. Embarrassed, tired, and despondent, you quickly regained your composure the best you could. You took a few minutes to pull yourselves together before you got the hell over it and set to work.

Moving quickly, you worked together to evade attention. You ducked into a service hall once you made sure the coast was clear. Your black face masks were swapped out for white spares you had in the bottom of your carry-on. You pulled off your light windbreaker and pushed it into your bag, pulling on Chan's offered flannel that he'd been wearing under his jacket, which he then threw into his own bag. Pulling out a beanie from the front pocket of his backpack, Chan finally felt ready to join you for your next step. You moved swiftly through the crowds back to the ticket agent desk, grabbing your IDs and going about setting up a new first class flight. You were assured by the agent that even though you were on standby, you had a good chance of getting on the next nonstop in an hour, a couple of booked customers being notorious for last-minute cancellations.

So that left an hour.

You flipped through any and all options for privacy in your head before suddenly realizing the best course of action. Grabbing ahold of Chan's arm, you made a beeline for the airline's guest lounge. It was oddly full for a weekday morning, but it seemed more than welcoming with its low light and bartender on duty. You gave the front desk attendant the information for the company account and, once inside, immediately pulled up a seat at the bar. You slipped off your face mask and practically inhaled the first drink you ordered, feeling just a little more relaxed at this late, late hour of 10AM. Chan settled in beside you and ordered you both a round.

"Thanks," he offered, playfully nudging his shoulder into yours. You shook it off.

"I said I'm always going to do right by you. Besides, it's my job." You gave him an exhausted, small smile.

"And you're good at it," he encouraged. "One minute I'm checking to make sure I have my wallet, the next I'm entirely lost with a whole mob of fans hunting me down. Hyun-Jae-noona may be a machine, but you'll be giving her a run for her money someday, and probably soon."

A humble blush seeped over your cheeks, but you knew it wouldn't last. Given the opportunity, Chan would inevitably bring up that evening backstage at Inkigayo. He'd been trying for weeks now and you'd skillfully dodged him time and time again.

"So," he began, with all the subtlety of a cannon, "we have plenty of time to talk about you and I."

"Hmm, no," you laughed, accidentally too meanly, firmly shaking your head as you maintained a hard gaze on your empty glass, "because there is no 'you and I'. I helped you out. Like I said, it's my job."

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Chan cock his head and frustratedly play with the case on his phone. "That isn't exactly in your job description last I checked, and I'm pretty sure you enjoyed it way more than you care to let on."

It wasn't. You did. But you were petrified to let Chan know that, for more reasons than just the most obvious one concerning your employment status. Despite those conflicting feelings, however, what was more pressing was how much Chan being upset made you upset in return.

"Right. Because that rests on a line way beyond the one I shouldn't have crossed in the first place, and I should've known better than to make suggestions to an idol thinking with his dick."

Chan slapped his hands down on the bar as he got up, letting out a spiteful scoff with an exaggerated shrug. "Better than taking suggestions from an intern who refuses to acknowledge she may have been thinking with her pussy. Now, if you don't mind, am I allowed to leave your sight to piss, or are you going to come watch me so you don't disappoint your bosses?"

You gawked, speechless and fuming as Chan turned heel and crossed the unusually busy lounge to the first of two private restrooms down the hall at the other end of the room.

Your mind raced, your heart pumped into your throat, your palms sweated, but worst of all was your stupid pussy betraying you at its mention. As you attempted to massage the TV static out of your temples, Chan's stupid, mesmerizing scent wafted into your nose from his flannel you were still wearing. Your stress headache was about to turn into stress nausea and making Hyun-Jae-unnie proud would only feel so good if you were lucid enough to enjoy it and god damn Chan for being so cocky and rude and right. Grappling both yours and his carry-on bags, you hauled them to the front desk attendant to be left in their care before you stormed across the lounge and all but kicked in the restroom door Chan had conveniently forgotten to lock in his anger. You were taken aback for a second, amused at how he wasn't even taking a piss. The man was just leaned back against the sink and tapping on his phone. You should've known; Chan used various forms of this tactic all the time back at the dorm -- walk it off and wait it out. But you weren't interested in waiting, nor walking it off. He cautiously looked over as you flipped the lock.

"Oh, so you do want to watch--" Chan sneered, stopped dead by you shoving him back against the sink and yanking down his mask before capturing his lips in a furious kiss. He pulled as far back from you as he could while being pinned up against the porcelain, waiting for your next move. This jerk was grinning. "What happened to not making it weird?"

"It's too weird to not be weird," you growled, shaking your head. "You want to see me thinking with my pussy? I'll fucking show you."

"You're a busybody, you know that?" Chan mused, mostly mumbled between your resumed kisses. You plucked off his beanie and threaded your fingers into his hair, winning a throaty groan from him as you tugged on his wavy tresses.

You dragged your lips from his own down to his neck, the skin there raising in goosebumps to meet your hot breath as you absently ground your hips against his. "Chris," you moaned against his throat, your special magic word already making him shiver, "tell me how much you've been thinking of me."

"Making assumptions, aren't you?" He chuckled before surprising you. He pushed you back, hips first, angling you back against the tile wall and caging you as his hands kept teasing to touch you. Each time he got close, he backed away a little more.

"Can't make assumptions when it's just facts," you smirked, breaking his concentration as you shoved him back against the sink. "Now tell me how much you've been thinking of me."

"Every fucking night," he breathed, eagerly following as you led his hands around your waist. "I've been losing sleep wondering how to get you alone. Not quite what I had in mind, but I'll take it."

"Well, you have me now, so you better make the best of this before I come to my senses." You slipped your hands under his shirt, finally letting yourself feel his taut stomach that you'd admired more than once when you'd caught glimpses of it. The groan under his surprised flinch made you clutch your knees together a little tighter.

Chan nodded firmly before leaning down and hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around him in one swift move. "Yes ma'am."

Was it dumb that those words alone struck up a tingle in your spine? You waited, curious as he spun and sat you on the edge of the sink.

"Have any ideas?" You asked.

"Just a few. Been thinking with my dick after all." He gently pushed you to lean back against the mirror above the sink, giving you a sly smile that faded the moment he went to pick the button of your jeans.

You put a hand on his. "What's wrong?"

Chan shook his head. "Is this stupid?"

A sigh erupted from your chest before you could stop it. "If I'm being candid, this is worse than stupid; it's dangerous. But you're really cute and I'm really enjoying myself. I think we can be stupid and dangerous once or twice."

"Well now we just sound reckless." You knew that look. Chan was on the edge of panic. You sat up on the ledge of the sink and gently took his face in your hands.

"Chris. Are you enjoying this? Do you like me?"

"Yeah," he nodded weakly. "Of course. You're gorgeous and you drive me nuts and I can't get enough of you."

"Then kiss me -- ah!" You interrupted, putting a finger to his lips and shushing him before he could continue being so wishy-washy. "Kiss me. It's not like it's our first or anything, but it'll calm you down and get you back in the game, I promise."

Chan fiddled with your fingers where they still rested on his hand.

"Or..." You ducked closer, attempting to catch his gaze. "You can say no. I won't deny I'm being a little selfish, but I'd never try to steer you wrong, Chris."

He thought about it. He really thought about it, still fidgeting with your fingers tangled with his before he suddenly had his same, goofy, self-assured smile. His other hand brushed your cheek, his rings there zipping cold against your skin before you were faced with his lips hesitating, meditating right before yours. You waited to close your eyes as if you'd miss something if you didn't keep watching, and he finally kissed you. It felt different: sweet, thoughtful, curious -- a wine you'd first tried under different circumstances but never really appreciated before, but now feared you'd take it for granted.

You gasped, dazed and startled like a shaken sleepwalker as Chan did, indeed, get back in the game. His hands gently pushed you to lean back against the mirror with renewed confidence and he was back on you, kissing you with new vigor as he tried once again to unfasten the button of your jeans. With newfound success, he grabbed the waistband of your jeans and swiftly yanked them down along with your panties, down to your knees where he paused for just a second. You couldn't help but smirk at Chan's momentary admiration of your pussy on the ledge of the sink. His eyes ticked up to meet yours, staying there as he slowly sank to his knees in front of you. He tugged your jeans down further to your ankles. He ducked under and between your legs, allowing you to spread your knees around him and let him take his time as his lips ghosted over your warm heat.

"Alright," he smirked, "I'm not exactly a pro at this, but--" His sudden groan was delicious as you raked your fingers into his hair and tugged him close, causing a premature kiss between his lips and your damp pussy. He quickly became accustomed after his initial taste, a deep moan following his tongue into your wet folds. You bit down a moan, your teeth digging into your lip as your hips rolled against Chan's tongue.

Your ears perked at the sound of a zipper and a small smile pulled at your lips, content to know how turned on Chan was to please you. A noticeable change occurred in his rhythm as his hands transitioned from clutching your thighs, to one gripping his rigid cock, the other beginning to dip into your dripping juices and tease your quivering hole.

"Is it good?" You asked, chest heaving and your head dizzy.

He pulled up, his shameless smile slick with you. "You're fucking delicious," he breathed.

The moment his tongue affectionately laved your clit in combination with his fingers slowly slipping inside your depths, you cried out, unable to hold back and earning the biggest shit-eating grin from the man between your legs. He resumed eating you ravenously, his tongue and fingers probing you in tandem as you slowly ascended your peak. Were the lights in this bathroom always so intense? Your knuckles were pale wrapped in Chan's hair, the veins beneath scripting thoughts you were still too afraid to say.

"Chris," you wavered, your thighs trembling where they sat on his shoulders, "I'm going to fucking cum --"

"Oh yeah?" He raised his eyebrows as his fingertips crooked up inside you. "Show me, baby."

Your cheeks washed crimson at the sweet name, nearly thrown off track but brought back the moment he resumed pumping his tongue and fingers together, the syncopated ministrations bringing you higher and higher until you couldn't hold it anymore. A bolt of lightning traveled up your spine, circling your head before finally striking. Your fingers knitted into Chan's hair, you cried out and roughly ground your pussy against his mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

But he didn't stop. He dug in harder, you could actually feel his dark smirk as you nearly screamed. He caught you just in time, shooting a hand up to clamp over your mouth as he kept tasting your dripping folds. After all, there was a room of people just outside.

"Chris," you whimpered into his palm, "please, please, please."

Please, stop? Please, more? You had no clue, your eyes were practically rolled back in your head.

He backed up just a breath away. "We don't stop until I finish," he moaned, his husky growl reverberating against your ignited nerves before he fucked you harder. Where was this new edge coming from? Something about it intrigued you to no end. A second peak came into view when an alarm suddenly went off on your phone. You regretfully kicked Chan off of you before digging the beeping monstrosity out of your jacket pocket.

"What is it?" Chan asked, bewildered.

"Oh shit," you wheezed, still coming back to earth, "we have to go. Come on. The gate is at the other end of the concourse."

Chan was left speechless for a second, still kneeling on the floor before sighing deep and shoving his hard-on back into his jeans. He watched as you swiftly -- and with eerie efficiency -- pulled your clothing back in place, checked your hair, and leaned down to wipe his dripping chin with your jacket sleeve after you re-situated his clothing as well. You pulled him to his feet, dragging him behind you down to the front desk and grabbing your bags before sprinting down the concourse, all the while digging new face masks out of your backpack and quickly snapping them on before arriving at the gate.

Thankfully, the seats you were vying for were open, and you could nearly hear applause as you hauled Chan down the jet bridge and got settled in first class. Finally, as the plane was taxiing, you pulled out your notebook to get some neglected work done. Chan, headphones on and looking agitated, reached over, plucked your pen out of your hand, and scribbled in the margin of your notebook page.

So, if I’m not going to finish, we at least definitely have more than enough time to talk now, right?

[To be continued.]