#*pilot intercom voice*

[screampied]

❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.

an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .

as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”

“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.

“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”

the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.

as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.

he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.

he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.

god, he was handsome.

gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”

you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,

you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”

“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.

his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”

and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,

your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.

thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.

alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”

“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.

right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.

with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.

gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.

“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”

your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.

the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.

every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.

“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.

he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.

the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.

ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,

not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .

you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.

“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”

and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.

“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.

your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”

“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”

you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.

with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”

a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.

as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.

“c’mere, sweetheart..”

out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.

throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 

his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.

he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 

“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”

“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”

“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 

sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”

“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 

playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”

“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”

stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”

“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.

gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”

“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”

you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”

he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 

as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 

“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.

you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”

you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”

“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”

you start off realllll slow, 

sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..

your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.

as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.

he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 

gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”

“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”

his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.

breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”

“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.

his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.

as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”

“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”

as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”

“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.

with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”

“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”

“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”

“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”

you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.

his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”

“but—”

“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”

and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.

“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 

not just any passenger though, 

gojo satoru. 

he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”

with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”

“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”

“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 

panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”

“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”

“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”

you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.

“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”

“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.

“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”

“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”

“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

and then— his phone rings.

you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”

still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”

in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.

“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.

a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.

he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”

“what—?”

with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.

you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”

you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.

you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”

right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.

“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”

“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”

gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”

he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.

zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”

[callmeagardengnome]

✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | KIM HONGJOONG

pairings ✃ mafia leader! hongjoong x flight attendant! fem! reader

genre ✃ mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis ✃

it’s finally your last day as a flight attendant. you wanted nothing more than to laze on your couch and watch netflix - just to find out that one of your passengers blew out the brains of your pilot with a gun.

in which hongjoong hijacks a plane that his rival’s daughter is on.

w.c ✃ 10.5k (yes im a yapper im sorry)

c.w ✃ dark themes, vivid descriptions of gore, guns and knives, kiss scene but no smut, use of the nickname ‘brat’, ‘pretty’ and ONE TIME - ‘princess’, your dad’s a dick oops, vulgar language, reader is smart

not proofread!

masterlist

white clouds drifted by the airplane window as the sky turned from a soft blue to a deep orange.

it would’ve been a pretty sight if it weren’t for the gun to your head.

you’d called in sick or put in your two weeks notice earlier if this was how your last day of being a flight attendant would end - but apparently, life hates you too much to let you catch a break.

HOUR 1 OF 7 - TAKEOFF

‘god- i can’t take this anymore,’ you thought to yourself. you hated waiting, despised it actually. 

after today, no more jet lag, rushed goodbyes or missing celebrations. you can finally unpack that suitcase for good, find someplace quiet and actually live in it. the thought alone was enough to keep you excited, but something bothered you at the back of your mind.

this trip didn’t feel right.

it wasn’t the plane itself, but your passengers? only 2 showed up in a plane that could seat at least 50 people. 

not that you were complaining. fewer passengers meant less work - which was a good thing. 

but the uneasiness you felt kept rising in your chest, no matter the times you tried to push it down. 

‘just 6 more hours,’ you thought. ‘then this will all be behind me.’

HOUR 2 OF 7 - MEALTIME

meal service started like any other: boring. 

after handing out the trays, you pushed the trolley back to its place and returned with beverages. you plastered on your most professional smile as you walked over to your passengers. “would you like a drink?”

the man with sunglasses turned to you lazily, his eyes shifting from the trolley to your face. “what do you have?”

you sighed, quietly but deeply. you had that stupid list engraved into your mind by now. “water, coffee, tea, coke, spri-” 

“-do you have alcohol?” he cut you off. 

your eye twitched. this dickhead.

first of all, he interrupted you. and secondly, you didn’t mention the alcohol on purpose. it was stored at the back of the plane and you did not have the energy to drag it out. 

“uh hongjoong- i mean, boss-“ the guy next to him whispered hurriedly. “i don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“-i think it is,” hongjoong interrupted before turning back to you. “where’s the menu?”

you gave him a forced smile as you pushed the alcohol menu towards him. he took his time with it, flipping through the pages slowly before finally saying, “two shots of whiskey.”

“sure thing,” you snatched the menu back. with a swift turn, you fetched the whiskey and the glasses, returning back to his seat.

you poured and placed the two shots on his tray table. he took the glass and drank it in one go, setting it back down with a thud. 

hongjoong then turned his head towards you, eyebrows raised. “what?”

you blinked. ‘what’? just ‘what’? where's the ‘thank you’? 

you were losing your mind.

“nothing,” you muttered through clenched teeth, moving away before he could ask for anything else.

grade A asshole.

HOUR 4.5 OF 7 - POINT OF NO RETURN

the shitty in-flight wifi was a joke as always. why did you even try?

with an annoyed sigh, you shoved your phone into your back pocket when suddenly-

static.

its piercing sound followed by faint garbled voices on the intercom startled you. you frowned as the sound continued, getting louder and more distorted.

with a groan, you stood up, straightening your uniform. ‘what are they doing?’ you thought as you walked towards the cockpit.

but when you passed by the first-class cabin, you paused. the seats were empty. both passengers were gone. ‘weird…’

things only got weirder as you approached the unlocked cockpit door. 

concerned, you pushed it open.

the smell hit you first - a metallic tang that twisted your stomach.

then your eyes caught up.

blood splattered the walls and windows in chaotic streaks, dripping down to the controls and the carpeted floor. the pilot and co-pilot laid in a gruesome pile to the side, the jagged holes in their skulls grotesque. 

a guy sat at the controls, steering the plane as though he wasn’t surrounded by horrors. 

grade A asshole- no, hongjoong, sat cross-legged on the floor, his sunglasses shattered at his feet. a gun rested in his hand and his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you enter.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..” you breathed out. 

pieces of brain and organ matter clung to the control panel as a simple blinking green light above that indicated that everything was, somehow, still functioning.

hongjoong tilted his head, amused. the gun shifted to point at what you now noticed was the crumpled bodies  of your pilots, their faces mangled in unrecognisable masses of flesh and bone.

“these your friends?”

you shook your head as you stepped back, wiping your sweaty hands on your uniform. hongjoong seemed to enjoy your reaction, his grin widening into something sickening. 

he smirked. “don’t worry, i won’t spoil that pretty face of yours.”

you coughed at the wretched smell as the crimson-stained carpet squelched beneath your heels, your mind begging you to leave.

“well-” you said, turning to the door. “i’m sure you don’t need me here, i’ll just-”

an audible click cut you off.

you froze.

slowly, you turned back to see a gun aimed directly at you.

“leaving so soon?” he raised an eyebrow. “let’s talk.”

HOUR 5 OF 7 - SKYDIVING DOESN’T SEEM TOO BAD

hongjoong dragged you to the first-class section to ‘talk’. it was the first time you’ve ever sat there and to be completely honest, this was not how you imagined yourself ‘enjoying’ it.

well, not like it mattered. you had other issues - like handcuffs locking you to the chair.

he stood infront of you, one hand gripping the gun while the other held a file. “‘____’, am i right?” he asked. 

you nodded slowly. “..that’s me.”

“3.6 GPA in university..” he muttered. “flunked out of med school during your first year..”

..how the hell did he get that information?

“you ended up as a flight attendant because your father owns the airline.”

“..yeah,” you reluctantly admitted, your stomach churning. “uh- was the med school part necessary?”

hongjoong ignored you, flipping to the next page. you watched his eyebrows shoot up as his eyes narrowed. “how close are you with your father?”

you blinked, confused by the weird question. “i mean- he’s my dad,” you replied. “but i haven’t seen him in years.”

“hm,” the sound came from him. hongjoong studied you for a moment longer before he spoke again, but this time, his voice was cold.

“do you know what he’s been doing during those years?”

your brows furrowed. “no, i-”

“killing. my. men.”

you didn’t even have time to process his words because he leaned forward when he said them, the gun uncomfortably close to your face. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “...are you sure you have the right person?”

his smirk widened into something eerie. “i have a gun pointed to you, don’t i?”

your pulse quickened. you couldn’t decide which was worse: the possibility that he was telling the truth or the fact that he was clearly enjoying your reaction.

“i always wanted to get back at that pig..” he held the gun up to the bottom of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “and look at how kind the world is- blessing me with his daughter.”

you struggled to breathe, to think. the handcuffs dug into your wrist as you unconsciously tried to break out of them, a clink against the metal arm of the chair.

your voice trembled. “..what do you want from me?”

hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. instead, he leaned in even closer, so close that you could feel your foreheads touching.

“what i want,” he said slowly, eyes locked onto yours. “is for your dad to suffer.”

HOUR 6 OF 7 - SURPRISINGLY ALIVE

the stuffiness of the plane did little to calm your nerves. you sat quietly in the seat, staring at the shattered remains of your phone on the floor.

hongjoong snatched it from your hands a few minutes ago, grumbling about how ‘you don’t need devices’. great. just great. 

the sound of the cockpit door creaking open drew your attention. the other guy - or ‘pilot’, stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “boss.”

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “what?”

the ‘pilot’ moved closer to hongjoong, lowering his voice. “air traffic control was notified of our path,” he said quietly. “they know something’s off with the plane, but i have no idea how.”

hongjoong’s eyes darkened as he processed the information. then, he glared at you, like he was accusing you.

you scoffed. “you shot my phone, how would i even contact anyone?”

for a moment, the two of you locked eyes and you swear that you could see him debating whether to believe you.

the ‘pilot’ cleared his throat. “what should we expect?” he asked nervously.

hongjoong leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “the police.”

HOUR 7 OF 7 - SHIT IS GETTING REAL

“what the hell…” you whispered to yourself as you peered out of the window.

SWAT teams and federal agents stood in rows, their weapons pointed directly at the plane. flashing lights of red and blue lit up the empty airport. 

you turned away from the window, watching hongjoong pull out a burner phone from his jacket. his fingers typed something out before he suddenly snapped the phone in half, tossing the remains on the floor. 

“…who are you?” you asked quietly.

he raised an eyebrow. “you don’t need to know, pretty.”

your survival instincts told you to move, to do something. but the second you tried to stand, hongjoong shoved you back down. 

“stay seated until we land,” he said before tilting his head. “isn’t that your job?”

you rolled your eyes, gripping the armrests as you tried to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. 

but that was when you heard it - gunshots. 

“they’re shooting us?” you panicked, flinching with each sound. 

no answer.

“hey-“ you tried again, but was cut off by the tires hitting the terrain. 

the landing was rough - harsher than anything you’ve experienced as a flight attendant. the plane rattled like never before.

your chest tightened when it rolled over something particularly large. “what was that?” your voice cracked. 

no answer. 

when the plane finally came to a halt, you barely had time to catch your breath when hongjoong moved. in a blink, he uncuffed you from the chair, only to secure the handcuffs on your wrists once more. 

he brought you to your feet, pulling you so close that you could feel his breath against your ear. “don’t do anything stupid,” he hissed. 

the cockpit door opened and the ‘pilot’ appeared. he quickly unlocked the emergency exit and you saw the makeshift ramp that had been attached to the side of the plane. 

a van rested just outside of it, hongjoong dragging you towards the vehicle. you descended the ramp, the cool air hitting your face as you looked around. 

but that was when you saw it. 

blood. 

on the wheels of the plane, the dark colour leaving a fresh trail on the ground.  

“did you..” you gulped, your voice barely above a whisper. “did you run over them?”

hongjoong glanced at you. “i didn’t,” he shrugged. “the plane did.”

you stopped in your tracks, your feet stuck rooted to the ground as you stared at him in horror. how could he say that like it was no big deal? just who was this man?

“move,” hongjoong ordered. but when you didn’t, he clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “god- you’re such a brat.”

before you knew it, you were shoved into the back of the van. the ‘pilot’ closed the door with a loud slam and sat in the driver’s seat while hongjoong took the passenger’s seat up front. 

you met hongjoong’s eyes through the rearview mirror. his glare was sharp, acting as a warning to keep your mouth shut. you didn’t need to be told twice.

the van drove forward and you caught glimpses of city lights in the distance, slowly growing closer. civilisation - maybe you could get help. 

but against your mind’s wishes, you felt your eyelids getting heavy - and you did something that no one should ever do when they’re in a car with armed strangers.

you fell asleep.

HOUR 14 OF 7 - HIP HIP HOORAY YOU’RE NOT DEAD

you heard a voice whine. “why can’t we kill her?” 

“do you want boss to kill us?” you heard another reply.

your eyes fluttered open. your head felt heavy as the room came into focus, your stomach twisting. 

the space was dingy, poorly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling and an unnecessarily tall lamp on the ground. the walls were stained and the air stunk of blood.

you tried to move, only to feel tight ropes against your wrists and ankles. you were tied to a chair.

“i can’t believe we have to babysit the pig’s daughter,” a man with a knife groaned.

“calm down, wooyoung,” the other one sighed.

“calm down?!” wooyoung exclaimed. “yeosang got to fly a plane! how is that fair?”

“he has a license,” the second man rolled his eyes. 

“it’s still a plane, jongho-”

“shut up,” jongho interrupted. “the girl’s awake.”

both men turned their heads to look at you, the sudden attention sending a shiver down your spine. wooyoung’s grin stretched across his face as he got to his feet, jongho following behind.

“aw look who’s finally awake,” wooyoung approached, his voice childish. “you slept like a baby- and we didn’t even drug you!”

your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in close, his grin widening as he studied your face.

“i read your file,” he began. “you’re smart…” wooyoung paused, his eyes inspecting you and your ridiculous uniform. “and hot.”

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to respond. “thank you-?”

“-what’s your favourite feature about yourself?” he asked, twirling the knife in his hands.

“uh-” your mind scrambled for an answer as he got nearer, the knife glinting. “i- my eyes?”

“your eyes,” wooyoung repeated, the grin stuck to his face. “good choice.”

he brought the knife closer, the cold steel trailing down the side of your face. you flinched as the blade hovered near your eye, your breath hitching.

“you’re going to answer all our questions,” he stated, almost in a sing-songy way. “and if you dont-”

he tilted the knife, now directly above your eyeball. “-i’ll dig those lovely pearls out of your sockets.”

your chest tightened, terror paralyzing you from head to toe. you couldn’t even breathe, every cell in your body pleading you to stay still.

“hey-” jongho tapped wooyoung on the shoulder, whispering. “uh.. boss said we can’t scratch her..”

“are you serious?” wooyoung scoffed. “then what’s the point?”

jongho bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding eye contact with his friend.

wooyoung groaned, throwing the knife to the ground with a strength that made it bend. “fuck this- torture isn’t even fun anymore.”

he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

silence was in the air until jongho cleared his throat awkwardly. he turned to face you. “uh..” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“change of plans.”

HOUR 15 OF 7 - DAY DRINKING IS FUN

you never imagined yourself in a hideout, drinking vodka with one of your captors - yet here you were. 

the whole thing felt absurd: a shaky barstool beneath you and a scuffed counter separating you and jongho. he poured you a shot he claimed was ‘very expensive’, before proceeding to chug most of the vodka from the bottle in a long gulp. 

your legs were untied now, though your wrists were still bound, the rope loose enough for your hands to rest infront of you. “what are we waiting for?” you asked. “hongjoong?”

jongho froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “don’t say his name,” he whisper-shouted.

you raised your tied wrists in apology. “okay.. what should i call him?”

“call him boss.. or mr kim.. or anything that isn’t his first name,” jongho said, his words rushed. 

you nodded slowly, looking at the man infront of you with mild concern. he looked even more scared than you did. 

then suddenly, the door slammed open. 

both you and jongho flinched, watching two figures stumble in. 

the first was a tall man - storming into the room. the second was him, hongjoong, clutching his side in pain.

“mingi- boss!” jongho panicked instantly as he ran to help the injured man. “holy- you’re hurt!”

“the pig called for backup,” mingi sighed heavily. 

you blinked, stunned as the sound of hongjoong coughing violently brought your attention back to the injured man. 

blood seeped through his fingers, staining his sleeves and skin. you don’t know what took over you, but you pushed yourself off of the barstool and rushed towards him. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” mingi stepped infront of hongjooong, his hand resting on his gun protectively. 

you glared at him. “do you want your boss to bleed out?”

mingi studied you. after what felt like ages, he exhaled sharply and stepped aside. “fine,” he muttered, keeping a hand on his weapon. 

you knelt next to hongjoong, trying to make him face you as you grabbed his arm. though, he snatched himself away from you quickly. 

you rolled your eyes. “i’m trying to help you, asshole. let me see it.”

hongjoong’s eyes pierced your soul. you could see the cogs in his head turning on whether he could trust you. 

a few moments passed before he finally faced you with a sigh, revealing a large gash on the side of his stomach - a wound created by knife. 

“i need water.” 

jongho blinked, clearly thrown off. “what?”

“to clean his wound..?” you explained. “get me water. now.”

jongho hesitated before snatching a bottle of water from a mini fridge. he pushed it to you, the little amount of liquid sloshing inside. “you should stay still for this,” you said before slowly pouring the water over the wound. 

crap- a gash this big needed a stitch. 

“untie me,” you said, holding your wrists up to your captors. 

jongho glanced at his boss worriedly for permission. hongjoong gave a small nod and jongho quickly pulled out a small knife to cut the rope. 

once free, you quickly looked around for something to stitch his wound with. when nothing looked remotely useful, your eyes dropped to your uniform - a skirt with a yarn trim. it wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

you began to unravel the yarn from the hem.

“what are you doing?” mingi asked, frowning.

“stitching him,” you sighed as your fingers worked hurriedly. “or do you want him to get an infection?”

hongjoong let out a groan, shifting uncomfortably. “just hurry.”

you finished unravelling it, but now you needed a needle. your hand instinctively reached up to your hair - pulling out a small bobby pin. it was definitely not as sharp as a needle, but you’re sure that hongjoong can handle his pain.

“shit- i need to sterilise this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“vodka,” jongho said instantly, grabbing the bottle and handing it to you.

you poured the small amount over the pin, letting it drip onto the floor. then, threading the yarn through the makeshift needle, you glanced at hongjoong.

“this will hurt,” you warned.

he looked at you with clenched teeth. “i don’t care.”

you placed a hand on his side to steady him, feeling the tension in his muscles as he tried to not flinch. carefully, you began to stitch the gash, each pull making him wince. 

when the stitching was complete, you tied the yarn and tore it off with your teeth - but the wound was still bleeding slightly.

you glanced down at your sleeves. without hesitation, you tore a strip of fabric free. you used it to dab away the excess blood, then folded the remaining fabric to wrap it around his side. 

“that should work. for now,” you sat back as you wiped your forehead with your arm.

“...you know how to treat people?” hongjoong asked, wincing slightly. 

you nodded slowly. “yeah.. i know the basics.”

“hm,” he tilted his head. “you’re more useful than i thought.”

you blinked. was a good thing or a bad thing?

“wooyoung,” he yelled out. 

a loud crash was heard in another room, followed by the muffled sounds of frantic movements. within seconds, wooyoung appeared in the doorway. 

“yes, boss?” wooyoung said out of breath, brushing off his shirt as he looked around the room. 

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. instead, he looked you up and down, his lips twitching into what seemed like a smirk. “get her some actual clothes. we have an event to catch.”

HOUR 17 OF 7 - WORDS TALK BUT GUNS TALK LOUDER

“woah..” your eyes took in the building before you. glittering lights and an impressive exterior that was way more extravagant than anything you imagined hongjoong to be involved in.

he parked the car, the engine coming to a stop. before you could say anything, hongjoong stepped out of the car, closing the door shut. you scrambled to follow him, your heels clicking against the pavement as you caught up.

the two of you approached the man stationed at the door - a bouncer with a pen and clipboard.

without warning, hongjoong’s hand snaked around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side. you flinched at the sudden contact, but with how tight his grip was, there was no room for protests.

“ah, mr kim,” the bouncer greeted. “you made it.”

hongjoong offered a brief, fake smile before dropping it immediately. “let us in.”

“hold on now,” the bouncer said, flipping through the papers on the clipboard. “we can’t let her inside.”

hongjoong’s brows furrowed. “why?”

“new policy,” the man sighed, pretending to sound disappointed. “no more plus-ones.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. instead, he reached into his blazer, about to pull out a-

“nevermind!” the bouncer’s face turned pale. he stepped aside with a nervous laugh. “you’re all set- enjoy the night.”

the interior was breathtaking - chandeliers hung from high ceilings and round tables were scattered across the venue, draped in pristine white table cloths. 

“don’t eat or drink anything here.”

you blinked, nodding slowly at hongjoong’s words. “okay.. but why-”

“-and if you really want to stay alive,” he interrupted, his lips brushing your ear. “don't leave my sight.”

his voice sent a chill down your spine. “okay,” you mumbled as he brought you further into the room.

he led you to a seating area - though it looked more like a conversation pit, where an old man sat waiting. 

hongjoong released his grip on you to sit across the man, gesturing for you to follow. you hesitated briefly before settling next to him.

“mr kim,” the old man greeted gruffly. his eyes shifted to you, studying your face. “i see you brought someone.”

hongjoong gave a nod, glancing at you. “introduce yourself, brat.”

“oh uh-” you put out your hand reluctantly, forcing a polite smile. “i’m ‘____’.”

the old man’s eyes narrowed before they widened in realisation. “her father-“

“-i’m glad you noticed,” hongjoong cut in. he slowly reached into his blazer again, but this time, he actually pulled out his pistol. 

your eyes widened as he aimed it to your waist, the cold metal brushing your side. “wha-“

“w-what are you doing?” the old man’s face drained of colour, panic flashing in his eyes. 

hongjoong tilted his head. “let’s negotiate.”

“mr kim-“ the old man began, his voice cracking. “as his friend, you do understand that i have to tell him she’s here.”

“do it,” hongjoong shrugged, leaning back. his arm returned to your waist, pulling you to him as he tapped the gun against your side. 

“let’s see if he values his money more than his own daughter.”

HOUR 18 OF 7 - LIFE ISN’T FAIR

a loud crash echoed through the venue, making you jump. the sound of heavy footsteps grew violent with every second.

hongjoong’s hand tightened around your waist as he stood, dragging you up with him. “move.”

“wait-!” the old man called after you, but hongjoong didn’t stop.

his grip on you was firm, the barrel of his gun pressing against your stomach. you tripped over your feet, struggling to keep up his pace.

“where are you taking me?” you panicked as you glanced over your shoulder at the armed men closing in.

“to your father, princess,” he sneered, his voice mockingly sweet. 

“mr kim! stop right there!” 

you froze, whipping your head around. standing at the far end of the room, infront of a small army of armed men, was your father. 

“let go of my daughter,” your father ordered. he pointed a gun directly at hongjoong, his men following suit. 

your eyes glanced around the room - seeing guests cowering against the walls, some injured and others dead.

“i’m not giving up the brat until i get what i want,” hongjoong demanded.

“what you want is an impossible amount of money!” your father yelled, his grip on his gun tightening.

“impossible?” hongjoong’s eyes widened with craze. “you have more than $500 million tied to your name! did you think i’ll forget who you killed to get here?”

your blood ran cold. “dad.. you killed people?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him.

for a split second, your father’s eyes softened, though that quickly disappeared with a scoff.

“if i didn’t, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head,” your father spat. “you were too stubborn to do anything after you dropped med school.”

the world seemed to tilt, your father’s words more piercing than any bullet. “but i didn’t-”

“-you did,” your father interrupted you. “i spent all that money bribing them just for you to fuck up.”

your heart sank as tears welled in your eyes. hongjoong noticed your reaction, his grip on the gun loosening slightly. 

“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t make my hostage cry,” he said. “do you really want those to be your last words to her?”

“shut up,” your father snarled, his finger close to the trigger. “i’ll say what i want. she’s too stupid to argue back anyway.”

the tears you held back spilled over and all you could hear was your dad shouting, “get her!”

HOUR 18.5 OF 7 - THEY WANT YOU SOO BAD

gunshots were heard in every direction, completely deafening. 

the pungent smell of gunpowder burned your nose as you stumbled, your legs barely holding you up. hongjoong shoved you to the ground, his hand against your back. 

“stay down,” he ordered you, raising his gun and firing without hesitation.

you flinched with every shot, watching in horror as armed men fell one by one with his aim. the world felt like it was spinning too fast and you could barely keep up.

suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm.

“stop moving!” your father yelled, his grip painful as he dragged you towards the exit.

“no!” you choked out, your heels digging into the floor in an attempt to resist. panic ran through your veins as your eyes darted around desperately.

your eyes landed on a fallen gun near your feet. you quickly snatched it, hands trembling as you tried to point it towards him.

“don’t make me do this!” you cried.

your father didn’t stop and without thinking-

-you pulled the trigger.

a bang was heard, followed by his rough scream as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“oh my god,” you whispered, the gun slipping from your hands as tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks. you sank to the floor, staring at the blood pouring out of him.

“you bitch!” he shouted in pain.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught hongjoong watching you, something strange flashing across his face. was that.. surprise? pride? maybe he was impressed?

hongjoong fired a shot at an armed man without looking, moving to you quickly. 

“didn’t think you had it in you, pretty,” he looked over his shoulder. “but we need to leave.”

he led you to a small janitor’s closet near the exit. the narrow space smelled of bleach, but at least it was quiet.

hongjoong shut the door behind you and dusted off his blazer. without a word, his dark eyes inspected you, checking your shoulders and arms.

you stood motionless, too shocked to stop him as he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb wiping away the mascara-stained tears from your cheeks.

“nothing broken,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “no scars either..”

he pulled out a burner phone, typing something quickly.

“i- i just shot my dad,” your shoulders shook as new tears welled up in your eyes.

hongjoong glanced up from the phone, meeting your eyes. “..are you bragging?” he asked bluntly.

“what? he’s my dad-”

“-and he’s a dick,” hongjoong cut you off. “you might share blood, but that man clearly hates you.”

you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “...am i going to hell?”

hongjoong scoffed. “come on-“ he began, but stopped himself when he looked at you and the tears spilling from your eyes. “you didn’t kill him… you’re fine.” 

you opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you as he continued typing. “and even if you did,” he added. “you’re doing the world a favour.”

he smashed the burner phone onto the ground, discarding the pieces. he reloaded his pistol before turning back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he led you through bodies and debris.

outside, a black van waited by the curb. hongjoong pushed you inside before climbing in after you, slamming the door shut behind him.

“drive,” he ordered.

as the street lights went past you, you slumped in your seat, completely exhausted. “where are we going?” you asked softly.

hongjoong studied you for a moment, watching your eyelids go heavy. “...go to sleep, brat.”

DAY 2 - OH HONEY I'M HOME

you woke up with a jolt. you sat up from the couch you laid down on, completely disoriented. your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. the hideout. 

relief and fear spread within you. you were safe - for now.

just then, a knock from the doorway made you jump. “didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, leaning against the frame. “boss wanted me to check on you.”

you blinked. “i- okay,” you coughed to clear your throat, wincing at how dry it felt.

“i’ll let him know you’re awake.”

and with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone once more.

though that didn’t last long. moments later, hongjoong entered. he carried a stool over, setting it down across from you before sitting. 

“how long did i sleep?” you asked hoarsely.

“a day,” he replied with a shrug.

your eyes widened. it was only then you noticed your attire - a baggy t-shirt replacing the outfit you were wearing before.

“who changed me?” you blurted out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“i did,” hongjoong answered. he noticed your flustered expression, tilting his head. “what?”

“did you-” you cleared your throat. “did you see anything?”

“i’m not a pervert,” he scoffed. “if it makes you feel better, you were changed in the dark.”

you fell into an awkward, heavy silence as you sat across each other. for the first time, there was no danger, no gunfire or anyone yelling out orders. just silence.

“your dad..” hongjoong began, speaking up. “wants you dead.”

“...what?”

he held up a cassette tape, tossing it onto the table between you, your hands trembling as you picked it up. hongjoong then brought out a cassette tape player, allowing you to hear your father’s voice.

‘mr kim, we’ve had our ups and downs, but i’m sure that we can agree on one thing - that bitch who shot my thigh is a liability. an idiot that made it this far because of me. she’s no longer my responsibility or family, so expect to find her head on a stick when you turn your back. have fun.’

“what the fuck..” you whispered shakily as it came to an end. 

“to be honest, your only purpose was to be a hostage.” hongjoong’s fingers drummed the edge of the stool. “and now that he doesn’t want you.. you’re useless-”

the world around you crumbled, his words making you feel worse. 

“-to him.”

your eyes widened, looking at him in confusion.

“you’re smart,” he shrugged. “and you stitched me.”

you blinked. “…where are you going with this?” 

“i want you to be an addition to my team,” he replied.

“do i have to kill people?” you blurted out. “or steal, or-”

“no,” hongjoong raised a hand to cut you off. “all you’ll be doing is treating my injured men. quite the opposite of killing.”

you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you trust me with that?”

“because,” he said, leaning forward. “you have nowhere else to go.”

“that’s not true-”

“really?” hongjoong smirked. “do you know how many businesses your dad owns?”

you shook your head.

“more than 80% in the country,” his eyes sparkled with something dark. “now that you’ve shot him, you’ve burnt every bridge he’s built for you.”

your jaw dropped. “but-”

“no job, no family, nowhere to live either since he owns most of the real estate here.”

you stared at him, struggling to process his words.

“here’s my offer,” hongjoong continued. “you get a decent amount of money, a place to live and protection...”

“...just to treat people?” you asked in disbelief.

he nodded. 

you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you picked at your nails. how could your dad do this to you? abandoning you just like that? and now he wanted you dead? you could feel yourself getting angry just thinking about him.

after a long moment, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “deal.” 

MONTH 1 - FAMILY BONDING 

that evening, you sat on the floor with san, wooyoung and yeosang, eating a batch of cheap instant noodles. it was a little awkward - mostly because you just joined, but you were silently appreciating their efforts to make small talk with you. 

suddenly, a loud bang was heard through the hideout. the three men jumped up immediately, pulling guns and knives from who knows where. 

“back entrance?” wooyoung asked as he sharpened his knives. 

your heart raced as you watched the three of them shift into combat mode - and you caught yourself lagging behind. you hurriedly stood up and grabbed the medical kit you kept close. 

“stay here,” san said firmly. 

you shook your head. “if someone’s injured, i’m coming.”

the three of them shared a look before yeosang gave you a reluctant nod. “…just stay behind us. we’ll get in trouble if you get hurt.”

they moved swiftly and silently through the narrow halls of the hideout, weapons in hand. you trailed closely, your heart pounding as you gripped the medical kit tightly. 

when you reached the back entrance, san motioned you to stay back while they checked the door. 

the signs of forced entry were obvious - the lock was broken and scuff marks lined the floor. 

wooyoung scoffed, speaking under his breath. “stupid piglets.”

yeosang sighed. “looks like they took a few weapons and left.”

“are they testing us?” san asked, inspecting a footprint on the ground. 

before anyone could respond, the door slammed open making all of you jump. you turned to see mingi, his chest heaving as he leaned against the door frame. 

“meeting. now.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the hideout’s ‘meeting room’ was more of a cramped closet with mismatched chairs and a comically large table in the middle. hongjoong paced at the end of the room, his jaw clenched. 

“we can’t stay here any longer,” he began. “it’s only a matter of time before they come back in full force.”

hongjoong stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “we need to move back to our old apartments. they’re scattered enough to keep us hidden until we figure out our next move.”

you shifted uncomfortably. 

hongjoong noticed this. “what?” he asked, his sharp eyes landing on you. 

“i uh-“ you hesitated. “i don’t have a home..” you said sheepishly. 

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. 

“my dad owns the house,” you admitted. “and that’s not really an option anymore.”

“right,” hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “shit..”

“alright, who has space?” he clapped, glancing around the room. 

everyone exchanged uneasy looks. 

“we don’t,” yeosang said, gesturing to himself, san, wooyoung and jongho. “the four of us are already crammed into one place.”

“same here,” yunho spoke up. “mingi and i barely fit in ours.”

hongjoong turned to seonghwa, his face hopeful. 

“no,” seonghwa said without hesitation. 

a heavy sigh escaped hongjoong as he pinched the bridge of his nose. he leaned against the table, deep in thought. 

minutes stretched into what felt like hours before hongjoong finally spoke up. “you’re coming with me,” he said, looking directly at you. 

your eyes widened in surprise. “..what?”

“you’re staying at my place.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the car sped down the (somewhat) empty highway, the faint smell of vanilla from the air freshener mixing with the lingering scent of old fast food. 

you gripped the edge of your seat as the streetlights ran by the window in a blur. “are we in a rush?” you nervously glanced at hongjoong. 

“no,” he replied flatly. 

there was a black car beside you that had been keeping pace for the past few minutes - and just as you shifted in your seat, it suddenly swerved infront of your car and slammed the brakes. 

“what the-” you barely managed to say before the impact. the car jolted violently as it hit the one ahead, the sound of metal crunching loud. 

hongjoong let out a low string of curses under his breath. his face was weirdly calm as he unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car without a word. 

“wait-” you scrambled to undo your own seatbelt. 

from your seat, you saw him approaching the car. the moment he glanced inside, his eyes widened. he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger instantly. 

the loud gunshot made you flinch and your stomach twisted as you saw the slumped figure in the driver’s seat, blood splattered across the windshield. 

your heart pounded as you stumbled out of the car, rushing towards him. “why did you do that?!”

hongjoong turned to you, his jaw clenched. “it was a piglet.”

“wha-“ your eyes drifted to the body, a shiver going down your spine as you saw the bullet hole clean through the skull. 

hongjoong, completely unfazed, went back to the car. you stared at the lifeless body for a moment longer before hurriedly following him. 

once you were back inside, you swallowed the lump in your throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence. “….how did you know he was a piglet?”

hongjoong didn’t respond immediately. his fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he glanced at you. 

“they have a bullet tattoo..” he said finally, pulling down his collar to point to his collarbone. “..right here.”

you blinked. “oh.”

“if you ever come across one,” he continued. “kill them on sight.”

your eyes widened, your throat tightening. “what about the police?”

he fell silent for a second, his eyes fixed on the road. then, a faint smirk crossed his face. “you don’t need to worry about them.”

his answer left you unsettled, but before you could question him further, the apartment building came into view. it was modern - standing tall with the city skyline. 

hongjoong smoothly pulled into the parking lot. the abruptness of the stop sent you forward, but his hand shot out instinctively, pressing against you to keep you steady. 

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice soft - though he didn’t look at you as he retracted his arm. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

some might describe hongjoong’s apartment as ‘minimalistic’, but to you, it’s just an excuse for a grown man to avoid decorating. 

the walls were devoid of any art or family photos, the kitchen was spotless - though it was definitely untouched with how there was almost no food in the fridge. and from what you saw, the only source of entertainment was a lone TV. 

“do you..” you began, looking around the bare space. “do you even live here?”

hongjoong ignored your comment and walked towards the big couch and began to pull it into a makeshift bed. the springs creaked slightly as he unfolded it. “this is where you’ll be sleeping,” he said, dusting himself off. 

“cool.”

“don’t complain-“ he stopped himself mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes when he realised what you said. “wait, you’re okay with this?”

you blinked. “…yeah?”

“hm,” he said, slightly surprised. he looked you up and down before turning to the long hallway. “get some rest, we’re getting you a phone tomorrow.”

MONTH 2 - LIVE LAUGH LOVE GUNS

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be long before the piglets attacked you again. 

hongjoong sent you on a simple supply run - nothing unusual. but as you stood in the small pharmacy, you felt the air shift when the cashier’s demeanour turned cold. 

it all happened so fast. 

the moment you saw the gun aimed at your chest, your eyes fell to the faint outline of a bullet tattoo peeking out from his collarbone. great. 

your breath hitched as your body moved on impulse. you barely avoided the first shot as you ducked behind the display rack. 

the pharmacy was strangely empty, no one else to intervene. your heart pounded as the sounds of footsteps and gunshots echoed. 

fumbling with your phone, you dialed every number you could think of. yet, no one answered. 

your hands trembled as you typed hongjoong’s number, your last resort. 

he picked up after one ring. 

“this better be important, brat,” he grumbled, groggy like he just woke up. 

“i need help-” you semi-yelled as you narrowly dodged another shot, darting behind the counter. “i’m getting attacked-”

“-send your location,” hongjoong interrupted. “i’m on my way.”

the line went dead before you could respond. 

you sent your location and shoved the phone back into your pocket. the cashier reloaded the gun, his footsteps growing louder. and just as you moved, he charged. 

he grabbed you, trying to pin you down. you barely managed to fight back, until you made an educated attack - kicking him in the groin. 

he groaned, stumbling back. you took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his hands. 

you pointed it at him, your hands shaking. “stay back,” your voice cracked. 

the man scoffed. “over my dead body,” he lunged at you again. 

your finger moved instinctively, pulling the trigger. 

once. 

twice. 

again and again and again. 

the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the recoil sending waves through your arms. you didn’t stop until you heard a clicking noise that meant that the gun was empty. 

when you opened your eyes, he was no longer standing. 

you looked down, the cashier laying sprawled on the ground, the concrete dark with blood. bullet holes littered his body, evidence of your frantic shots. 

you dropped to your knees, your chest heaving. you reached out to check his pulse. nothing.

you just took someone’s life. 

your eyes fell to your hands, bloody and shaking. from young, you always wanted to save lives - not take them. tears fell from your eyes, blurring your vision. 

the door slammed open. 

hongjoong stood in the doorway. he took in the body on the floor and your frozen form in a single glance. he sighed, stepping in. 

“come on, let’s go,” he crouched to grab your arm. 

you couldn’t move, your eyes fixed on the lifeless body. 

“hey,” his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to meet his. his eyes were intense, his touch warm against your cold skin. “we need to leave before more show up. you don’t want to kill anyone else, do you?”

you shook your head quickly. 

he pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around yours as he guided you to his car. the ride back was silent as you stared out of the window. 

and before you knew it, you were back at his apartment. 

you hesitated at the door, unable to bring yourself to step inside. 

hongjoong sighed, grabbing your wrist as he tugged you in. he tossed his gun and his keys in the kitchen counter before turning to you. 

“go take a long shower. i’ll be in the living room.”

you nodded, moving to the bathroom in a daze. 

the water was scalding as it hit your skin. no amount of soap or scrubbing would ever make you feel clean from the bloodied-stains. every part of your body felt foreign - even your puffy eyes and lips.

once you were done, you dressed in the softest clothes you had, hoping that it would provide you with some form of comfort (it didn’t).

the pull-out couch was prepared with brand-new pillows and fluffy blankets when you returned to the living room. hongjoong sat on the edge, gesturing for you to sit. you sank down beside him. 

the silence stretched on until it became unbearable. 

you spoke up, your voice barely audible. “…i killed someone.”

“you did,” he nodded. “good job.”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “i killed someone.”

“and so have i,” hongjoong leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “does that bother you?”

“i…”

he leaned back. “it should. the first time always does.”

“i don’t think i can do this,” you breathed out shakily. “i don’t want to hurt people..”

the two of you locked eyes for what felt like ages. you could see hongjoong’s adam's apple bob up and down, his jaw tightening slightly. “no one wants to hurt people,” he replied softly. 

you blinked. 

“i shouldn’t have sent you out alone, especially with your dad targeting you,” he sighed. “that’s on me.”

“but-”

“-though i do have to say, this made me realise how.. unprepared you are,” he continued.

your eyebrows furrowed. 

“if you want to survive, you need to know how to defend yourself,” he drummed his fingers against the couch. “...you’re off supply runs. from now on, you’re training with the others.”

you stared at him. “what?”

“the rest have some ‘schedule’ for training. i’m sure you can join without any problems.”

you hesitated. the thought of the blood, the body, the gun in your hands made you nauseous. the idea of training scared you. 

he noticed this, his eyes softening slightly. “you won’t be a killer, just someone capable of self-defense.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. finally, you nodded, your voice small. “okay.”

MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING!

the casino was glitzy and loud with copyright-free music, its neon lights casting eerie shadows on the dark streets outside. 

“you three, cover left. you two, check the vault. the rest of you will stay near the exit,” hongjoong ordered.

you waited for your assignment, expecting to be grouped with someone. instead, hongjoong said, “you’re with me.”

you sighed. “alright.”

you followed hongjoong to the right side of the casino, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the space. he moved silently, keeping his gun concealed but ready. you tried to mimic his focus, clutching the knife wooyoung lent you earlier.

the first sign of trouble came when the alarms blared.

armed men swarmed into the casino. piglets.

hongjoong moved first, taking them down in a single shot. you ducked behind a pillar, your heart pounding.

the fight moved fast. hongjoong was precise - he wasn’t even touchable, killing the men easily.

but that was when you saw it before he did: a piglet creeping up behind him, raising and aiming the gun to his head.

“boss!”

without hesitation, you hurled wooyoung’s knife to the piglet.

the knife pierced and plunged into his neck, causing the man to fall, his gun clattering to the ground. 

hongjoong whipped his head around with wide eyes, shooting the man infront of him before spinning to kill the piglet you just hit.

the silence that followed was deafening.

hongjoong’s breathing was heavy as he lowered his weapon. he dusted his clothes off, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

he gulped, finally speaking up. “...good job, pretty.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

slowly, everyone regrouped in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.

for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.

“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”

you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely bloody and dented knife - basically ruined.

“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”

you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”

“i didn’t know you were actually gonna use it,” wooyoung complained. “i thought you would just watch.”

“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.

wooyoung leaned in closer - his voice annoyingly sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t bend in your delicate fucking hands.”

“shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.

hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you. 

his chest tightened in a now-familiar way: you’re fitting in too well.

it wasn’t jealousy - at least, that’s what he told himself. it was about control. your presence was a distraction he didn’t account for. but the others took you in so easily, which was technically a good thing, right?

and yet...

why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?

hongjoong blinked, realising how his leg was bouncing restlessly. he forced himself to stop, sighing deeply.

“you good, boss?” yunho asked.

hongjoong paused. “...i’m fine.”

yunho raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it, turning away.

hongjoong’s eyes returned to you. you were leaning a little too close to yeosang now, laughing at some joke wooyoung said - sending a strange pang through his chest.

why did this bother him so much?

you weren’t doing anything wrong. you were building trust, meshing with the group - just like he expected.

but this wasn’t about the group, was it?

he frowned, thinking. you stitched him right after he kidnapped you, you saved him from getting shot even though you were definitely not ready to fight.

what has he ever done for you?

introduced you to a world of crime? to a world of killing, stealing and hatred? accidentally ruined the relationship between you and your dad?

hongjoong closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

shit.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

without bothering to change, you sank into the pull-out couch - exhaustion pulling you to it like gravity.

you heard hongjoong locking the door behind him, the soft click sounding loud in the quiet apartment. his footsteps shuffled toward the kitchen, the sounds of cabinets opening and closing reaching your ears. you were way too tired to look.

you didn’t realise you drifted off until you were awoken by something heavy on your body.

your eyes fluttered open groggily. for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. hongjoong was in the middle of draping a large blanket on you.

“what are you doing?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

his eyes darted to yours briefly. “nothing.”

you frowned, shifting to sit up - but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pressing you gently back down. “sleep.”

you let out a quiet sigh. “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you muttered.

he paused, his jaw tensing. “....tomorrow onwards, you’re training with me.”

you stared at him, stunned. before you could even say anything, he turned and walked away without a word.

…did your boss just tuck you in?

MONTH 3.5 -  PUNCH, KICK, SNARE

“again,” hongjoong said, slightly out of breath. 

the living room felt smaller than usual with the two of you moving around. the coffee table and couch was pushed aside, leaving just enough space to practice your punches without tripping over the furniture. he claimed training here would teach you how to ‘fight in tight quarters’.

he sighed. “your moves are sloppy.”

you groaned, shaking your aching wrists. “i’m trying.”

“that’s not enough when someone’s aiming a gun at your head,” he replied, stepping back and raising hands. “your punches are too weak and your balance is all over the place. reset your stance.”

you rolled your eyes but obeyed, repositioning your feet. it wasn’t the first time you’ve heard those words from him.

hongjoong moved closer, tapping your wrist. “keep your guard up. always.”

you threw another punch, but it barely made his hands move. he lowered them, sighing. “that’s not going to hurt anyone-“

“-i’m doing my best, okay?” you snapped. “i’m not a fast learner.”

his eyes softened for a moment before narrowing again. “that’s not an excuse when your life is on the line.”

you tsked. he was right of course, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

“again.”

you tried once more, throwing a combination of punches that he blocked with ease. when you attempted a kick, you stumbled, nearly losing your footing.

he caught you instinctively, his hands steadying you.

“watch your balance,” he said automatically, going on a tangent on how training is important and blahblahblah. 

you tried to focus on your surroundings, on the words he was saying, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you. the smell of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat in the room. his touch wasn’t rough or aggressive like you’d expect - it was gentle.

your eyes drifted to his face, catching the faint scars along his cheekbones and jawline. were those always there? or was this the first time you really noticed?

his brows furrowed, likely in frustration at your lack of response, but the concern in his eyes snapped you back into reality, making you realise that you were staring the whole time.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” the words spilled out before you could stop them.

hongjoong paused, his lips parting slightly - he wasn’t  expecting you to say that. for a moment, he was silent. he then leaned in, his eyes piercing. 

“you don’t get to quit.”

the intensity of his voice made you forget about the aches in your muscles and the sweat dripping down your back. his words weren’t angry - they were commanding. 

“why do you even care?” you whispered, barely audible.

his grip on your arms loosened slightly, his eyes searching yours for what felt like eternity. then out of nowhere, he stepped back, clearing his throat as he avoided your gaze. “take five,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen.

MONTH 5 - BLOOD, BLOOD AND MORE BLOOD

the office building looked ordinary. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was just another corporate HQ. but you knew better.

and so did hongjoong.

you held up the new knife wooyoung gave you, one that wasn’t as pretty as the last. it was finally the day you ambushed your dad, the man that’s been wanting you dead for months.

you looked up to face hongjoong. “i don’t want to see it,” you said suddenly.

he raised an eyebrow. “see what?”

“when you kill him. my dad,” you clarified, your throat tightening. “i’m.. okay with it, but i don’t want to see it.”

his eyes studied you. after a moment, he nodded. “make sure to stay close to me,” he said before turning to the building.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the group slipped into the building through the side. hongjoong led the way, gripping his pistol tightly as you stayed close behind him.

“elevators are too risky,” hongjoong looked back at the group. “we’ll take the stairs.”

the group nodded, their weapons drawn as they moved quietly through the halls. the fluorescent lights did nothing to mask the sinister aura that was buried in the walls.

when you reached the stairwell, the sound of footsteps echoing above sent everyone into high alert.

the first shot rang out.

gunfire filled the stairwell. the air was thick with smoke and gunfire. you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to avoid all of the attacks happening around you. you tried to go in to fight but-

-someone grabbed you.

you struggled, twisting out of their grasp. but before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, dragging you away. “stay still.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the stench forced your eyes open - a horrid mix of stale cigar smoke and alcohol. the office was dimly lit and your father crouched infront of you, his face smug as he cornered you.

“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” he sneered.

you glared at him, your heart pounding. “fuck off.”

a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “you’ve gotten worse since you joined that boy,” he spat. “should i cut off your tongue? unhinge your jaw? or maybe i’ll be basic and shoot you.”

“you’re insane,” your stomach twisted. “it’s hard to believe we’re related, especially with how ugly you are.”

“you-”

before he could finish, you jammed wooyoung’s knife into his other thigh, dragging it down to create a large gash. he let out a guttural scream, stumbling into a desk as blood gushed out of his thigh like a fountain.

you moved quickly, scrambling out of the corner, but two piglets grabbed you before you could get far.

“stupid bitch,” your father hissed, forcing himself up as he took out the knife in his thigh, looking directly at you. “you’re going to regret that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

as hongjoong shot another piglet with his pistol, he looked around the haze, searching for a certain someone. “where’s ‘____’?” he asked.

the group stayed silent.

“shit- we don’t know,” wooyoung said nervously.

hongjoong’s face darkened - and without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby piglet by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “where’s your boss?” he snarled.

the piglet squirmed. “i- i have a family!”

hongjoong’s grip on his collar tightened, his eyes widening scarily. “then bring me to him.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“your mother should’ve gotten the abortion,” your father said before settling down infront of you, the bloody knife close to your face.

“i’m surprised that a woman like her fucked you,” you breathed out shakily as the blade hit your skin. 

“shut up-“

the door burst open as the knife grazed your skin. hongjoong stepped in, his gun raised. “let go of her,” he ordered.

the piglets hesitated, glancing between your father and hongjoong. your father’s hand didn’t move, a scar forming on your face. 

“you want her that badly?” your father asked mockingly. “you’re becoming soft.”

hongjoong didn’t answer. instead, he moved faster than you thought was possible, shooting the two piglets that held you with ease.

the bodies hit the ground - causing your father to shove you harshly against the wall. pain shot through your body as you heard something crack.

hongjoong froze, his pistol trained on your dad. 

“stay back,” your father warned, hovering the blade near your temple.

hongjoong’s jaw clenched. he dropped his gun slightly, making your father relax.

but then hongjoong lunged.

the fight was brutal, all punches and grunts. you slumped against the wall, your cheek bleeding uncontrollably as every part of your body ached.

after what felt like ages, hongjoong finally gained the upper hand, pinning your dad down as he pointed the gun to his head. but then his eyes landed on yours, wide and terrified - making him freeze.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath, lowering the gun. he turned and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

your father tried to crawl away, but hongjoong didn’t let him go far. with you in his embrace, he covered your eyes and ears tightly as the sound of a singular gunshot echoed in the room.

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. his hand cradled the back of your head, his touch soft. “it’s over,” he whispered as you sobbed.

you shook your head against his chest, the salt in your tears stinging the cut on your cheek. “i almost died.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but i wouldn’t let that happen.”

his words settled over you like a warm blanket. you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face. you could feel the heat of his body as he kept you close.

hongjoong shifted, his hands moving to your shoulders as he looked at you carefully. his thumb brushed over your scar, wiping away the trail of blood on your face.

“you’re shaking,” his eyebrows furrowed. “you need to breathe.”

“i’m trying.”

he reached for a nearby chair and pulled it over, guiding you to sit. hongjoong crouched infront of you, your hands trembling in his.

“you’re safe,” his eyes locked onto yours. “i’ve got you.”

something inside you cracked at his words - and tears spilled once more. hongjoong didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. he stayed crouched infront of you, letting you take all the time you needed.

when you finally looked up, there was something unspoken in his eyes - a mix of guilt and relief that made your heart ache. “...thank you,” you whispered.

his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. instead, he nodded slowly, his grip on your hands tightening for a moment before letting go.

at that moment, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. your lips brushed against his, just enough to make his entire body stiffen.

for a second, you thought you made a mistake. his hands paused midair and his breathing hitched.

but then, he moved. to you. 

his hands cupped your face gently, pulling you closer into a kiss. it was slow at first, but when you gripped his shirt tightly - the feelings he’d been keeping were let loose.

his lips pressed against yours with urgency. his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he let go. 

you responded instinctively. your hands found his neck, his jaw - brushing over them softly in a way that made him groan. “fuck- you’re so pretty.”

the world around you spun in swirls of blood, smoke and cologne, overwhelming you in a way that made you lose your breath.

hongjoong broke away for a moment, panting slightly. his lips curled into a smirk, before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. it was grounding, reassuring and impossibly warm.

when the two of you pulled back, his thumb traced your scar. “this..” he began quietly. “..this isn’t what i expected tonight.”

you let out a soft, shaky laugh. “me neither.”

he pecked your forehead as he stood up, his legs slightly wobbly from the kiss. hongjoong held out a hand, helping you to your feet. “...let’s go home.”

series taglist - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2

author’s note: this is the first oneshot of my mafia series! yes it is long but i promise you that it does eat and that you’ll enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

BONUS SCENE - MINE

the apartment was quiet as you laid on the pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling. sleep wasn’t coming - your mind was too busy replacing the events earlier.

the memory of hongjoong’s arms around you stayed, along with the feeling of his lips on yours. how could a man as dangerous as him bring you such comfort?

a soft knock against the wall broke the silence.

you sat up slowly, seeing hongjoong standing in the hallway. his hair was slightly damp and he wore a loose black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he hesitated before walking to you, his movements weirdly awkward.

“...you okay?” you asked the nervous man.

he shrugged, trying to play it off as he sat next to you. “i’m fine. you?”

“i’ve been better.”

there was a pause as the two of you stared at each other, the silence heavy. finally, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

“i’ve been thinking..” hongjoong trailed off.

“uh-oh.”

“i-it’s not a bad thing-” he said hurriedly. “it’s just that.. tonight made me think about a lot of things.”

you tilted your head, confused.

his voice softened as he continued. “but this isn’t just about tonight. it’s about.. everything. i don’t want you to feel.. unsafe all the time.”

“i don’t,” you said instantly, but you’re not sure how much you believed yourself.

he leaned back slightly, reaching into his hoodie pocket. when his hand reappeared, it was holding a pistol - his pistol.

“take this,” he held it out to you.

you blinked, staring at the weapon. “what? why?”

“because it’s mine,” he replied simply leaving no room for argument. “and now, it’s ours.”

you hesitated, your hand hovering over the gun. “i.. i barely know how to use this.”

“then i’ll teach you.”

you looked up at him, searching his face for answers. “...why are you giving this to me?”

you noticed the way his eyes darted down as you looked at him, his fingers tightening around the pistol as he pushed it to you. 

“because,” hongjoong began quietly. “i trust you.”

your fingers paused before finally closing around the gun. the cold metal felt deadly in your grasp, but the way his eyes lit up made your heart swell.

“you trust me..?” you asked softly, a faint smile on your face. “hongjoong..”

his usual composure faltered as you said his name, a blush dusting his face. he swallowed the lump in his throat, gathering himself. “you’re not just a part of the group,” he said. “you’re more than that. to me.”

your eyebrows shot up, completely stunned. “...i don’t know what to say.”

“say yes.”

you blinked. “yes to what?”

“to being mine,” hongjoong’s hands fidgeted slightly.

your heart raced as you heard his words. a wide smile spread across your face as you realised what he was really asking.

“are you..” you paused. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

his breath got caught in his throat as he nodded. “yeah.”

the man that was the literal leader of an entire gang, was sitting nervous infront of you. it was a funny sight to see, but you brought yourself back to reality, answering his question.

“yes.”

a wave of relief washed over his face as he let out the breath he seemed to be holding. he reached out, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he leaned closer. “wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

deleted scenes | other fics

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine the cockpit was quiet except for the low murmur of air traffic control and the steady sound of the engines. Caleb sat in the left seat, one hand on the yoke, the other wrapped around a coffee he'd mostly forgotten to drink. Just an hour to go before the landing and he'll be home.

Imagine, he liked flying at nights like this. The smooth air and dark skies gives the kind of stillness one could only find 35,000 feet above everything. But tonight was different, he felt off. That even though he did not say anything, his co-pilot, a younger guy noticed. "You alright, sir?" Caleb nodded, not taking his eyes away from the midnight sky. "Yeah. Just tired."

Imagine it wasn't really that. It was his birthday. Not that he expected anything. But somewhere along the day, he miss you. He had wanted nothing more today than to spend his day with you but here he is, 35,000 feet on the air. Anything but near you.

Happy birthday, my love. Safe flight. We’ll celebrate when you land ♡

Imagine you had texted him before takeoff. It was sweet and simple. You always knew he didn't like a fuss. Still, he missed you. Just then as he reached for a checklist, the intercom clicked on. A voice began. And it was not the usual flight attendant announcement. It was your voice.

"Hi, uhm... sorry to hijack the intercom." A soft gentle laugh echoed in the intercom. "This is probably the weirdest birthday card you've ever gotten with everyone probably listening but I couldn’t let the day go by without doing something."

Imagine the way Caleb sat up, alert. Just then, his co-pilot turn his head toward him with a smirk. "That your lover?"

"Happy birthday, Caleb. I know you're up there doing what you love, but I hope you take a second to realize how loved you are." You continued. Your voice warm and steady, and maybe a little nervous.

"I just want to say thank you for who you are. For being patient when I'm stubborn, for calling when you land even if it's 3 a.m. For never making me feel like I'm waiting for you. For always find a way to bring me with you, even when you're far away."

"I hope this makes you smile a little up there. And because I know you're secretly soft. I worked with the crew to play you a little something."

Imagine a soft song began to play over the speakers. The one that always made him think of your road trip to the coast. Just a guitar and some quiet harmonies, the kind of music that felt like home. The one you would often sing along with. The songs where he would end up looking at you as you sang along the music with smile in your lips. The one where he would often steal a kiss on your lips.

Imagine, he did not say anything. He doesn't need to. With the way his eyes flicker to the stars beyond the cockpit window down to the controls and then to his ring finger where your initials were etched inside the band. And the way his lips curve into a genuine smile. "You gonna cry, Captain?" "Fly the plane."

Imagine when they land, he did not walk. He ran. He ran through the terminal. He didn't have to call you to know you'll be there. He just know. He just know and he couldn’t wait to see you and spend the rest of his birthday with you.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: early birthday gift for our captain. Also, I just realised his birthday was actually pretty close to mine*.

[suksatoru]

—more than a good lover.

↪ it didn't matter what the world thought of him as long as he had you.

pairing: sae itoshi x fem!reader

despite being a man of few words, sae itoshi is a good lover.

the few pictures of him outside of the field are usually with you. he's a private person, rarely going out unless it's for dinner dates or for meetings concerning him. so when an article posted by a reporter (one known for having the hottest gossip on celebrities and athletes) calls him a bad husband, he's hurt. he doesn't want to admit that his feelings are genuinely wounded from such an accusation, but at the end of the day—he's human too.

the media seems to forget that too often.

sae really does try with you, because he really does love you. those gossip columns don't know anything—he shouldn't care so much, and he never has. but this take hit him on a personal level. his relationship with you was special, and for it to be spoken about so horribly, so casually, is a rude slap to the face.

he's reading the article on a long flight late at night while you're sleeping right beside him, blissfully unaware. your head is resting on his shoulder, and he keeps one hand intertwined with yours and resting in his lap while his other is scrolling through the comments. they were all agreeing with the reporter—some of them saying they felt bad you got stuck with such an emotionless player, or how he seemed way too busy to give you any attention.

there's a voice in the back of his head telling him to turn off his phone, to ignore these people who don't know anything about you two and to get some much needed sleep—

so that's just what he does.

the media really is stupid if they think sae itoshi doesn't love you.

don't they know his favorite past time is kissing the inside of your wrists? the gentle thrum of your pulse beneath his lips is his favorite melody in the whole world. the sound of a roaring crowd after winning a match doesn't even hold a candle to the calm serenity he feels at the sound of your heartbeat.

can't they see how he falls asleep every night in your arms? with his face pressed against your chest, bangs un-styled and heart kept safely in the palm of your hands—you're the only person able to see such a side of him, and it would stay that way forever.

marriage isn't a small thing. when sae itoshi proposed, he did it with the intention of spending the rest of his life with you. he did it because he trusted you with his heart more than he trusted himself with it.

sae is a man of few words, and even though your wedding consisted of only a few close family and friends—there wasn't a single person in the venue who wasn't brought to near tears with his vows. they were honest, raw like an uncut gemstone.

and he knows you love him just the same. with you pressed against his side, coming with him and leaving behind everything to travel the world to support his ambitions—he knows you do.

he's more than a good lover. the media is so lukewarm—it's the first thought that comes to his mind when the jet you two were on finally lands.

"you're staring," you grin cheekily, finally awake and splaying your hand over the muscle of his thigh as your finger taps rhythmically against it.

sae blinks slowly. the pilot is saying something on the intercom about needing another ten minutes to unload the jet before the two of you could get off—but the world turns to nothing but pure static when sae looks at you.

he looks at the diamond ring adorning your finger, he looks at your sleepy smile, and he looks at your intertwined hands—

yeah. the rest of the world can think whatever it wants, he knows your thoughts and feelings are the only ones he actually gives a fuck about.

"am i not allowed to stare at the love of my life?"

sae itoshi was a man of few words. they were blunt and never sugar coated, so when he refers to you as the love of his life—he means it.

you hum, watching a rare smile grace his handsome face as you lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. he looks a thousand times more adorable in your eyes with his bangs down, and you take a second to stare at him before quickly snuggling back into his side

he takes a glance at the sunset taking place right outside the plane window, moving to wrap his arms around your shoulder and pressing a chaste kiss right behind your ear before speaking

"i hope our future kids get your smile."

"huh?!"

"you heard me."

[bellfilmz]

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rafe Cameron x Female Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After surviving a plane crash with a mysterious stranger she met mid-flight, she now has to find a way to survive, completely unaware she’s stuck with Rafe Cameron.

⸻

The flight wasn’t full, which was rare. You were tucked into the window seat with a book in hand, earbuds in, and no real expectation of conversation.

Until he sat down beside you.

Tall, tan, expensive cologne—definitely someone used to being looked at. His jaw was sharp, his hair pushed back in a messy, intentional way. And his legs? Long. Obnoxiously so. They stretched too far into your space.

You waited a minute.

Then tugged one earbud out. “Hey, sorry, can you um, move your leg a little? I need to get out.”

He blinked, then looked down like he’d only just realized his knee was blocking your way. “Oh. Yeah—sorry.”

He shifted, and you slid past him into the aisle, heading for the bathroom. When you came back, he was half-asleep, head leaning against the window this time. You had to squeeze by.

The moment you ducked into your row, the plane shook.

Violently.

You lost your balance and fell directly into his lap with a startled gasp.

His arms immediately came around you to steady you. “Whoa—hey, I got you.”

The plane jolted again.

You stayed frozen in his lap, heart hammering.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, strained, “please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts immediately. We are experiencing some turbulence. Follow all safety protocols.”

You scrambled into your seat, fumbling for your belt. Your hands were shaking too much to clip it in. Panic rose like bile in your throat.

The guy beside you noticed. “Hey—hey, breathe.”

You looked at him, wide eyed.

He leaned closer. “It’s alright. Just copy me, okay? Deep breath in.” He inhaled slowly, holding his hand in front of you like a guide. “And out.”

You tried to match him. It helped. Barely.

“Good,” he said gently. “You’re okay. I promise.”

Then the lights flickered. A scream echoed from the back.

Your stomach dropped. The engine whined.

The last thing you felt was his hand gripping yours.

And then— Black.

⸻

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏.

The sun was blistering when you woke up.

Your lips were cracked. Your hair was full of sand. And you were somehow alive.

You sat up slowly, wincing. Your entire body ached.

And then you saw him kneeling a few feet away, digging through what looked like luggage debris.

You blinked. “You…?”

His head snapped toward you. Relief flooded his face. “Shit—you’re awake.”

You coughed. “What… what happened?”

He stood, walking over. “Plane went down. We’re on an island. No clue where.”

You looked around, finally registering the dense trees and sparkling ocean. Panic rose again.

“I checked the shoreline,” he continued. “Didn’t find anyone else. Just us.”

You stared at him. “How long have we been here?”

“Couple hours, maybe. You hit your head.”

Your fingers went to your temple, brushing a tender bump.

He crouched beside you. “We should move you out of the sun.”

You nodded numbly. “What’s your name?”

“Rafe,” he said simply. “And you?”

You told him.

He stood and offered you a hand. You hesitated, then took it. His grip was strong but careful.

“I think I found a freshwater stream inland,” he said. “And some luggage washed up. We’ve got basics. Not much.”

You followed him slowly, still dazed.

“You’re handling this pretty well,” he added as you reached the edge of the trees.

You gave a humorless laugh. “I’m still in shock.”

Rafe glanced over his shoulder. “Stay in it. It’s better than full panic.”

⸻

The waterfall was like something out of a movie tropical, tucked between palms, flowing into a shallow pool.

You stared, overwhelmed. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered. “It’s too pretty to be a nightmare.”

He knelt, splashing his face. You followed, letting the cold water hit your skin. It woke you up in a different way.

You sat by the edge, legs pulled to your chest. “I can’t believe we survived.”

Rafe sat beside you. “Me neither.”

The silence settled again.

He looked over at you. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

You blinked. “Should I?”

He smiled faintly. “Guess not. Most people do.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you famous or something?”

He shrugged. “Kind of. Back home. OBX.”

“That where you’re from?”

He nodded.

You watched him for a second. “You helped me on the plane.”

“You fell on me,” he teased, that smirk returning. “Figured I had to make sure you lived. After that level of intimacy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was falling to my death.”

“Into my lap,” he clarified, grinning now.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. And it was the first time you felt like yourself since the crash.

⸻

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

He got a fire going somehow. You didn’t ask how you were too busy realizing night on the island was darker than anything you’d known. The stars were brilliant, but the shadows felt alive.

Rafe sat beside you, watching the flames. His arms were scraped. He looked tired, worn, human.

“Why were you flying?” you asked quietly.

“Business,” he replied. “My dad sent me. Something about responsibility.”

You nodded slowly. “I was just trying to get away for a while.”

“Well… mission accomplished.”

You cracked a smile. “Guess so.”

There was a beat of silence.

Rafe leaned back on his hands. “We’ll be alright. Someone will find us.”

You weren’t sure if he believed that or if he just needed you to.

Either way, you let the lie settle between you like a safety net.

The fire crackled.

And for the first time since the crash—you stopped shaking.

⸻

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐?

Tag list info

[yvesssssssss]

(I know Caleb isn’t a commercial pilot, this is just for fun!^⁠_⁠^)

The intercom crackles to life just as the aircraft begins its descent onto the docking platform. You barely register the captain’s usual landing announcements—until his voice shifts into something softer, more familiar.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for choosing Orion Airlines for your interstellar travels,” Caleb’s voice hums through the speakers. “And before we disembark, I’d just like to take a moment to send a special message.”

You sit up in your seat, heart pounding as murmurs of curiosity ripple through the cabin.

“I’d like to say hi to my girlfriend sitting in Seat A3.”

Your breath catches as every passenger’s head turns toward you. Heat creeps up your neck, and you sink further into your seat, gripping the armrests.

“Hanging in there, pipsqueak?” Caleb’s voice is warm, laced with amusement, and you just know he’s smirking from the cockpit. “Won’t be long now.”

A beat of silence passes before he adds, lower now, just for you: “And don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking extra sugar cubes from the mess hall this morning.”

The passengers erupt into laughter, some offering you teasing smiles, while others sigh wistfully at the romance of it all. Your face burns, but you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips.

You unbuckle your seatbelt just as the spaceship fully docks, already anticipating Caleb’s smug expression when he finally appears. He’s impossible—but he’s yours.

As you step off the ramp, you don’t even have time to steady yourself before a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind. Caleb’s scent—something crisp and electric, like charged air before a storm—fills your senses.

“Miss me?” he murmurs against your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

You turn to face him, trying (and failing) to look unimpressed. “You really had to embarrass me in front of the entire ship?”

He chuckles, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Embarrass you? Pipsqueak, I just made sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

Rolling your eyes, you poke his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he quips, leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead. “Now, let’s get out of here before they start demanding a full-blown romance novel.”

[kxsagi]

hiii! how r you? i like your writings so much<3 can you do this one where the reader is the pilot/captain of the plane the bllk boys are flying on?

“𝟏𝟎-𝟒, 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭”

a/n: i'm good and i hope you are too! thank you so much!!!

ngl this request idea reminded me of that one caleb tik tok edit audio where he’s like “10-4, captain caleb out” with take my breath away playing (hence the titel)

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, hyoma chigiri, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei

itoshi rin

he’s dead silent the entire boarding process. headphones in. hoodie up. classic. 

until he hears the pilot’s voice over the intercom and thinks: that sounds familiar… 

then you say your name and he just… freezes mid-scroll. no music. no breathing. no way. 

stares at the ceiling like it personally betrayed him. 

you’re flying this plane? oh gosh. he’s proud of you, of course, you’re amazing, he just didn’t mentally prepare for this. 

texts you: “we're not gonna die right” “i trust you but also i’m scared” “i love you btw” 

won’t admit he was nervous until like a week later. 

makes you a bento the day after to “thank you for keeping his ass alive.” 

isagi yoichi

literally gasps when he hears your voice on the speaker. 

beaming like a proud dad. keeps telling the flight attendants “that’s my girlfriend!!” like a loser. 

opens flight radar just to stare at the little plane icon and pretend he understands what’s going on. 

tries to peek into the cockpit before takeoff. gets caught. blushes. 

will not shut up about how ✨cool✨ and ✨smart✨ you are. 

“babe, you flew the plane! like? the actual PLANE???” 

asks you a million questions afterward like you’re a celebrity. 

makes it his phone wallpaper: you in your pilot uniform, looking all hot and composed. 

mikage reo

his reaction is immediate and dramatic: “no. way.” 

claps like he’s in the front row of a runway show. 

“i knew you were talented but babe this is HOT.” 

keeps bragging to everyone nearby. “i invested in this airline. emotionally, too.” 

calls his family during boarding just to say, “guess who’s flying my plane? MY GIRLFRIEND.” 

asks if he can get cockpit selfies with you after the flight. 

will try to buy the whole airline just to rename it after you. 

nagi seishiro

half asleep when you announce your name over the intercom. 

slowly opens one eye. stares at the speaker. groans. “so loud...” 

texts you: “you’re the pilot? that’s kinda sick” “wake me up if we crash” 

immediately falls back asleep. 

wakes up halfway through the flight, checks the sky outside the window and shrugs. “guess she’s good at this too.” 

kisses your cheek after landing and says, “good game.” 

gets weirdly obsessed with flight simulators after this. 

hyoma chigiri

jaw hits the floor. you’re the pilot? 

he’s in awe the whole time, even while trying to stay calm and collected. 

heart flutters when you say “this is your captain speaking.” 

he clutches his seat during turbulence but tells himself, “no, she’s got this. she’s amazing. she’s got this.” 

definitely brings you flowers the next time he sees you. 

insists on taking cute post-landing photos with you and says, “i want to show our future kids how badass their mom is.” 

kaiser michael

smirking immediately. 

“ah, so i am in good hands.” 

texts you: “i think i’m in love with my captain” “take me to the mile high club”

acts chill but is actually so turned on by how powerful and composed you sound. 

gets way too into the captain/flight attendant roleplay ideas afterward. 

flirts with the flight attendant just to make you jealous, until you purposely hit turbulence for one second and he shuts up. 

bachira meguru

screams. “THAT’S MY BABY!” 

literally runs down the aisle (the flight attendant has to stop him). 

flirty text: “can i press buttons in the cockpit? pretty please?” 

asks if he can wear your hat. 

draws you in a superhero cape later with the caption “CAPTAIN CUTIE” in all caps. 

you catch him narrating the flight to his seatmate like it’s a magical journey: “and now my beautiful girlfriend is taking us over the clouds…” 

itoshi sae

he does not react externally. at all. like he hears your voice and just blinks slowly. 

the most emotion he shows is a very subtle smirk and maybe a nose exhale. 

he already knew you were a pilot but didn’t expect to be on your flight. 

checks the flight info and texts you: “you better not crash. i have a commercial to film tomorrow.” then a second text: “jk” “don’t get distracted thinking about me.” 

wears a sleeping mask the whole time. 

but after landing, he purposely waits at the gate for you just to say in that dry, quiet voice: “smooth landing. you looked hot up there.” 

gives you a lil side hug like he’s not absolutely obsessed with you. 

shidou ryusei

deadass gets turned on the moment you say “this is your captain speaking.” 

full-on puts his hands over his mouth like he just saw a hot celebrity walk by. 

“no fucking way. MY GIRLFRIEND? THE PILOT? OH, I’M GONNA DIE SEXY.” 

immediately presses the call button and tries to bribe a flight attendant to let him in the cockpit. 

texts you: “hey baby wanna join me in the air tonight 🤭” “you can land on me later” 

gets way too excited during turbulence. “IS SHE TESTING ME?” 

when the plane lands smoothly he claps obnoxiously and yells “THAT’S MY GIRL!!” from row 12A. 

calls you “captain mommy” for the next week and you have to threaten to ground him. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[district4loading]

A Trip

Le Sserafim Yunjin x Male Reader

8k Words

Content Warning: smut, very fluffy, a little bit of angst cause reader has daddy issues (why not), lots of plot

Minors DNI

A/N: Hello fearnots!! I took a small step out of my comfort zone to (happily) fulfill a request from one of my followers. I hope they enjoy it and I hope you all do too!

Also most of the information I got about Yunjin is from google so feel free to message me if it's wrong. I will change it.

(So sorry if there are typos, i proofread this at midnight lmao.)

-

Nothing could lighten your mood like Yunjin, she's perfect for you

-

You wake up hearing the loud hum of the airplane fill your ears, it was a sound you were all too familiar with by now, a sound that often times meant work. You keep your eyes shut, shuffling in your seat to turn your head away from the vibrant daylight that shone through the window, breaching your eyelids. Then you hear whats probably the pilots rough voice on the intercom, muttering something about preparing for landing. That's when your eyes finally open and almost immediately they meet a pair of eyes so beautiful you can't help but smile.

It's your girlfriend Yunjin. You've been together for eight months and some change now but due to your conflicting schedules, you haven't been able to spend much quality time together recently. So the second you two found an open window you took it and decided to do something with the short week you had off. You're heading to Boston so she can meet your family for the first time, then the plan is to go on a mini roadtrip to Albany so you can meet her parents too then after that get a hotel and relax, maybe even head to the city.

The chances of your schedules being free at the same times are really slim so you want to make the most of your time together. 

Yunjin smiles softly when you wake up and you begin to start wondering how long she's been watching you. "How did you sleep?" You stifle a yawn, stretching your arms and legs a bit as the plane begins to descend, feeling a slight discomfort in your ears.

"I didn't"

You quickly go from being tiredly relaxed to being slightly concerned "Jen, it's been thirteen hours. What do you mean you didn't sleep?" There's another yawn that tries to come out while you're talking, you manage to suppress it but it still makes you teary eyed as your body was still trying to get over the effects of waking up.

"I couldn't, I don't know I've just been thinking a lot" She chews her bottom lip nervously before speaking again "I'm about to meet your parents, you know? It's a little nerve wracking"

Theres a gentle smile that grows on your face when you realize why she hasn't slept, you think it's cute. "You have nothing to be nervous about, they will love you. We're gonna go over there and we're gonna spend the day with them and it's gonna be great" You try to reassure her, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

Yunjin pokes out her bottom lip and tilts her head to rest on your shoulder for a bit "You sure?" 

"Yeah baby" You nod before leaning over to plant a kiss on her forehead, catching a whiff of her hair. 

The plane lands and you two do your best to get through customs and everything without any troubles and you can't help but notice how easy it is. No fans, no paparazzi, no bodyguards, no extensive amounts of suitcases, just you and Yunjin. The feeling was sort of bittersweet to you, on one hand it was nice not having to push through crowds of people but on the other, you kind of missed the support, the "I love you's," the look of genuine support on the faces of your fans. "What are you in your head about now?" Yunjin taps your arm as you roll two big suitcases through the airport. You glance at her and hum, not yet processing the question "You were making that face again"

"What face?"

"That face you make when you're thinking about something too hard" She responds cleverly causing you to roll your eyes slightly.

She gives you a moment, allowing you to be silent as you try to figure out how to convey what you want to. "Don't you miss it?" You ask a bit vaguely, assuming that she'd get what you were talking about. When you only get a confused look from her you begin to expand on it "The attention, the fans.. you know.” You almost cringe at yourself, feeling like a little bit of an attention whore.

Which… you kind of were, otherwise you wouldn’t have be an idol

"Oh" Yunjin pauses, then gets visibly confused "A little bit, I mean it's really wholesome the nice things they say and the little interactions... but isn't this more peaceful?"

"Yeah, I don't know it's just weird being in an airport for something other than work" You say as you walk through the double doors, inhaling the all but fresh scent of Boston air. The smell of home. You pull out your phone and shoot your father a message asking where he was parked and you get one back almost immediately "They're a little farther down" You nod in the direction where they were parked towards, a disorder of cars and angry drivers honking.

Yunjin's starting to get nervous again and you catch it immediately so you take her hand in yours "Hey, just breathe" You tell her before bringing it up to leave a kiss on her knuckle for comfort. She nods and you both begin to walk around the outside of the airport, wondering how and why there were so many people there at eight in the morning.

You eventually spot your parents’ silver SUV and you point it out to Yunjin. She makes eye contact with your parents who are standing there waiting for you and she feels her nerves coming up again, but she manages to tell herself everything will be okay thanks to you. You roll the suitcases near the car "Hey mom, hey dad" You greet them with hugs so tight and loving that you think you might pop all while Yunjin stands there awkwardly. You step back next to her "This is my girlfriend, Yunjin"

"We know her name by now, she's all you talk about" Your mother says, brushing past you. Yunjin puts her hand out thinking that your mom was going for a handshake but instead she pulls her in for a hug. You winced a bit, feeling like you should've maybe warned her about how much your mom likes to give hugs. "It's great to finally meet you, you can call me mom" She says, holding onto her arms when she pulls away. Your mom looks Yunjin up and down, a look of pure adoration in her eyes "She's so pretty and she's so tall I might have to steal her from you" Your mom turns to you before backing up and you both just awkwardly laugh at the older woman's humor.

"Nice to meet you" Your father reaches his hand out to shake hers, firm and proper then he looks at you "Your sisters are home, they didn't want to come for the ride" He shrugs as he grabs one of your suitcases to load in the car. Your mom and Yunjin get inside and as you expected, your mom is talking her ears off, you snicker, hoping it's not too overbearing. "So whats the plan?" Your father asks as you help him with the bags.

You take your eyes off of the girls. "What plan?"

"With her, you really like her? are your fans going to be okay with it?" He purposefully lowers his voice so they can’t hear.

Your father was the reason you got into the industry in the first place. When you were fifteen he packed your bags and sent you down to SM entertainment--on the other side of the world--to train in hopes that you'd make your big break. Why at a company like that? You had no clue. But one thing you were sure of was that your relationship with him has never been the same since then. It's also quite relevant to add that he was a trainee when he was younger but he never made the cut, deciding to instead to move to the states for college and lead a normal life.

So he knew enough to know what could happen if you went public with your relationship. 

You give him a look and you're kind of annoyed that he's bringing it up now. He thinks your career is the most important thing and in his eyes, relationships were merely just scandals waiting to happen. He didn't see the point in them, so when he found out that you were dating Yunjin, he obviously didn't approve. But you never cared about what he thought because she's the love of your life. "I don't just like her dad. I love her and the fans will just have to deal with it if we decide to go public"

"But you won't" He says it in that matter-of-fact tone. The one that you hate and he knows you do. Maybe it's immature, but you held a lot of contempt for him deep inside of you because of the way he's run your entire life. Now he's trying to do the same right now and you won't let him because you're older. You're your own man.

There's something about him that just makes you want to rebel and do something crazy out of nothing but pure spite. Something drastic like posting a picture of you and Yunjin kissing just to show him that he doesn't run your life.

You couldn't do that though, mainly for company reasons. "Remember to be careful Y/n, your career is everything, your brand is everything. You haven't even been able to go solo from your group yet and if you want to-"

"I don't wanna talk to you about this" You slam the trunk closed a little harder than you should've, most likely startling Yunjin and your mom then you walk around to get into the backseat.

Yunjin tilts her head, laughing a bit "Why'd you close the trunk so hard" You shrug, trying to make it seem like everything was okay but it wasn't. Not when your dad's being an asshole again. You we're hoping he'd show a little respect for the occasion but then again, he's him. You shouldn't have expected anything. "You okay?" She gets a bit more concerned noticing the change in your demeanor and that's when your dad gets into the car and starts the engine.

"Yeah no everything's fine"

Yunjin knows you too well. She recognizes that tone and she can tell somethings bothering you but she doesn't say anything, knowing that you don't want to talk about it. "Okay" She subtly takes your hand into hers as the car begins to move, silently telling you that she's there for you. She'll always be. "Well, your mom was just telling me about how gross you were as a kid..." She says, triggering a long lost memory in the back of your mind and you're almost betrayed that your mother would tell her about it. 

"Mommm! Come on!" You complain and the car bubbles with laughter, some coming from you as well even if you were embarrassed.

-

The car ride ended up being full of conversation and good energy. It lightened your mood to see how quickly Yunjin and your mom got along with each other. You expected for the short exchange you had with your dad to kill your mood, maybe even have you bothered for the entire day. He has that effect on you. But for once he doesn't and maybe its cause Yunjin had your hand in hers, moving her thumb to rub your knuckles for extra comfort.

Nothing could lighten your mood like Yunjin, she's perfect for you

When you arrive, your dad pulls into the garage where you look over and see your car. The car you plan on driving all the way down to Albany to see Yunjin's parents. You get out and walk into the house where both your sisters are sitting on the couch, Sarah and April. They look up at you, their eyes lighting up the brightest you've ever seen them.

"Oh my god, I can't believe my lame ass brother is actually dating a member of Le Sserafim" Sarah, the older among the two teases like she always did. It's good to know she still has that fire in her.

"I havent even been here for a minute and you're already bullying me" You fake complain, silently enjoying the playful relationship you shared with her. Yunjin purses her lips to stifle a laugh as you walk over to put Sarah in a fake headlock and hold her there right up until she's saying sorry. It was your big brother, little sister dynamic and you were glad that after all this time she was still willing to play along with it no matter if she was getting older or not.

The youngest, April kind of looks a bit shy and you know exactly why. "Oh... I forgot to say, April really likes Le Sserafim" You mention to Yunjin who continues to smile even bigger after taking in the flattering information. She walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to her. 

You just watch as she tries her best to get your sisters comfortable with her, cracking jokes to make them laugh. She was more natural at meeting people than she'd ever give herself credit for. You turn to your mom "I need the keys for my car" You mention as you walk with her up the stairs, leaving the others downstairs.

"How long are you staying?"

"Maybe three hours, then we have to head down to Albany. It's a long drive so I don't want to leave too late" You explain she gives you a look, an inquisitive hum leaving her throat as she moves to open the bedroom door.

"I thought you were going to stay here for the night, change of plans?" You nod and you just shrug but then she gives you a look, one that says to cut the bullshit and tell her what you're feeling.

"Dad's being.. dad again. I don't want to spend too much time under the same roof as him" You mutter, leaning against the king sized bed as you watch her fish through a drawer for your keys. 

She pauses for a minute, a small sigh escaping her lips and you already know whats coming. A water-downed attempt to defend the indefensible "He just wants the best for you, you know" She closes the drawer after finding the keys and puts them in your hands, acknowledging your unconvincing glare. 

"Yeah, right. Did he also want the best for me when he sent me to train at a company that doesn't give a fuck about me?" You ask, not meaning for there to be so much hostility in your tone. Hell, you didn't even mean to curse at her. It just got on your nerves that she'd ever begin to defend him, especially with the whole 'he's doing it in good faith' argument because if he was, he would've let it be your choice to begin with. Not just the choice of company, but the decision to go to Korea in the first place.

She flinches at your language and you apologize shortly after. You move to leave the room, ready to head off downstairs to see what Yunjin and your sisters were doing when your mother holds your arm. "Before you go and leave forever, talk to me, tell me about how everything's been going in Korea. I haven't seen my son in months and he's already leaving after spending what? two seconds here?" 

"Sorry" You apologize and its genuine, like actually. 

-

You ended up staying and talking about basically everything that's happened in this past year with your mom, who was always a really good listener. She gave great advice about how to solve some of your problems when you go back. It was a good maybe half hour long heartfelt conversation. One that you had with her often over the phone but it's even better in person.

"I should probably get back, Yunjin's probably wondering where I am" You stand up and stretch your arms a bit. Then you leave the room. When you get down stairs, you see Sarah and April and they're watching something in the living room. Theres a moment where you look around in confusion before asking "Where's Yunjin?"

"In the garage with dad" April shrugs, not even bothering to look away from the TV. 

Your heart sinks.

"Fuck" You mutter as you walk over to the garage, already knowing what he was trying to do. You walk through the garage door and they're talking. His demeanor was almost intimidating and hers was small and it only made you angrier. You step between them and shove him backwards. "The hell are you doing?" You're level with him this time, almost mirroring his muscular build and his height. It was almost scary how alike you were.

"I was just trying to tell her-"

"I don't care, I don't want you to tell her anything" It's kind of contradicting, but you can barely think straight right now.

"Y/n, no its fine he was just" Yunjin tries to argue, touching your arm with her soft hand. You turn to look at her for a moment, your eyes softening when they meet hers.

All of your anger almost goes away, thats what she does to you.

"What did he say to you, Jen?"

Yunjin's eyes darting to hers and then back to yours before she can even speak he cuts in "I was just letting her know that she's going to ruin your career" You turn to him struggling to even begin to comprehend what the fuck he just said. By the cold stare you give him he can tell you're angry but he doesn't care. "Don't be like that, you know it's true! and when you two break up, there's going to be rumors and-"

You look over to Yunjin "We're leaving" Is all you say as you walk behind your parents' car, popping the trunk to take your suitcases and transfer them to your car. If you had no self control, you would have probably punched your dad in the face and maybe even have a full on altercation with him right there in the garage.

But Yunjin didn't need to see that and your mother probably wouldn't be able to handle that.

Soon everything's packed and you're inside of your car, reaching to put your seatbelt on. "Tell mom I said goodbye" You tell your dad and you can't even look him in the eyes when you do. You just watch as the garage doors slide open to make way for your car. Yunjin gets in too and she sets up the navigation on your phone. "How longs the drive?" 

"Two and a half hours" She answers as she puts her seatbelt on. You put the keys in the ignition and you pull off, just glad that you're away from him and the dark emotions he's dredged up.

The car ride starts off silent, you're thinking about a lot. About how Yunjin must've felt hearing that from your father, about how telling it was that he thought he had any right to say something like that to her and especially about how much you damn near hated the man. 

"So" Yunjin breaks the silence.

"So" You repeat her words.

"When were you gonna tell me that you have daddy issues?" 

Your face scrunches up in confusion "I don't have daddy issues" You repeat the term, seeing it as something that could only apply to women. Until you actually start thinking about it, how your relationship with him isn't good, how you get upset when he's around and especially how small he makes you want to act out like a teenager. "Holy shit, I have daddy issues" You realize, causing Yunjin to almost burst out laughing.

The mood was lightening up and you were happy about that, not wanting the altercation with your dad to sour the entire trip. "I had a feeling, you talk about your mom and your sisters a lot but not him." She mentions and you kind of nod, not even realizing how obvious it was. 

"Seriously though, what he said, did it bother you?"

Yunjin shakes her head "Not at all, I still really liked hanging out with your sisters and talking to your mother. They're great" She smiles and you do too, being able to tell that she was being fully genuine in her answer.

You knew each other like that.

-

The rest of the trip was quiet, mostly because Yunjin ended up falling asleep in the beginning half and for the entire ride. You expected her to sleep especially because she didn't get any on the plane.

Shamelessly, you found yourself glancing at her at the occasional red light just to watch her sleeping peacefully.

It made you happy to know that she was yours and only yours.

When you finally arrive in front of her home, you park out front and reach over to tap her awake. It took a few light pushes to wake her up. You watch as she smacks her lips together, wiping the sleep out of her eyes while she stretched her back. It was all the signs that you just woke her up from a really good nap. "What? are we here already?" She yawns and looks out of the window. 

It's already beginning to get dark, the streetlights in the neighborhood were already on, shedding warm light on the empty sidewalk. Now you begin feeling the nerves about meeting her mom and dad. You hope it goes better than the visit to your parents house and you hope they like you. "You ready?" 

You nod your head and the two of you get out and walk up to the door, ringing the doorbell only once. Then the door opens, revealing what you assume to be Yunjin's dad. She opens up her arms, hugging him tightly with a big comfy smile on her face "Hey Jen, you guys got here just in time. Your mom's just finished cooking" He pulls away from the hug then sizes you up a bit, you almost feel a chill run down your spine "I'm guessing this is Y/n?" He asks, putting his hand out to shake yours, nice and firm.

"That's me, it's good to meet you" You nod and move to enter the house. You look around the foyer, noticing a bunch of pictures on the wall of Yunjin and her family together. In some of them she looks so adorable, so happy as a little girl.

Then you walk into the dining room where Yunjin's mom is setting the table. She looks up and smiles upon seeing the two of you, placing a plate down before walking over to hug her daughter first. "Here's the famous boyfriend I assume" She jokes, opening her arms to hug you too.

"Wow, it's nice to finally meet you guys" You smile politely.

Then you take a seat at the table and Yunjin sits next to you and when everyones actually settled in, some conversation begins. "So Y/n" Her mom begins and you hum in response, making sure to make good eye contact "You work in the industry too, right?"

"Yeah, i'm in my fourth year" You nod.

"I'm, curious. How do you two manage to make time for each other?" 

Wow, right out the gate with the heavy questions

You look over to Yunjin, who has already started eating and then your eyes find their way back to her mom's. Noticing that her dad was looking too, you cleared your throat as you tried to figure out a good way to answer the question "It's hard, with the way our schedules conflict a lot but we manage to find windows and do little acts of service for each other when we have free time. For example, when i'm not working and she is, I'll go out and buy her gifts or something and vice versa" You explain and you can feel Yunjin staring at you with that smile on her face.

Yunjin's parents look satisfied with your explanation and you almost feel proud of yourself for handling the question well.

-

The dinner goes way better than you expected, much better than the visit to your parents house which you're grateful for nonetheless. You stay after dinner, getting to know Yunjin's parents better as you played a few fun board games with some music playing in the background. Soon it started feeling like more of a hangout with friends rather than meeting your girlfriends parents.

So it was safe to say that they liked you.

When it started to get late, you and Yunjin said your goodbyes, exchanging friendly hugs with the each other before leaving. There's a nice hotel just thirty minutes away from her parents house, providing you with a place to stay the night before heading down to the city. 

It took a bit of waiting but finally, you were able to book an acceptable room with a good view of Albany.

You put your bags down and without even taking off your clothes, you fall backwards onto the bed and you just lay there. "Well today was... one hell of a day" You mutter, the altercation with your father still in the back of your mind. 

Yunjin sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you lay there. You notice that there's a look on her face. That one she makes when she wants to ask a question but isn't sure how or maybe she doesn't want to ruin the mood with the weight of the question. "Babe?" You ask, sitting up "You alright?" 

"I... your dad... there was something else he said and I know it shouldn't have but it kind of got to me" She subtly begins to play with her fingers, like she's about to break some bad news. You already feel your blood boiling as you start to realize that his words may have bothered her way more than you thought.

Before she continues you stop her "Yunjin you're not going to ruin my career, seriously I value you more than anything in the-"

"No, it's not that" You quirk your eyebrow, deciding that you'll just shut up and listen. "He also said that this is all for nothing, that we'll fall out of love because we barely see each other." Yunjin looks worried, like for the first time she's having some doubts about your relationship. That's because it's the only thing that feels like it could be true. You two had to go almost extreme lengths to have dates, or hang out when you're free. 

Sometimes it gets so busy that you go weeks without seeing each other and that's what worried Yunjin the most. It was the distance. You hold her hand with yours, an act of affection that you found yourself doing a lot when you needed to reassure her "Jen, I love you and... what we have isn't going to fizzle out, it's going to be there forever. My dads just trying to get into your head, I can't believe he said that" You mutter the last part, making a mental note to give him a call later and maybe curse him out.

"Really? Cause sometimes I feel like things at work can get stressful, so stressful to the point where even in our free time we need time to recharge alone. Then when is there going to be time for... just us?" She asks, and its a valid question and a valid feeling but all you do is hold her hand tighter, firmer. 

"You can recharge in bed with me and my arms wrapped around your body" 

This makes Yunjin laugh, cracking a smile at your comment even though you weren't joking at all. She nods "I know.. I'm sorry I let things get to my head. I've just been overthinking a lot and I didn't get much sleep" There's a small smile that threatens to show on your face and she immediately catches the curving of your lips "What?" She laughs a bit, pushing your shoulder lightly. She already knows what you're thinking.

"I know something that'll help you sleep better" You lean in, leaving a small peck on her lips.

Yunjin begins smiling "What is it?" She asks, her lips just centimeters away from yours. You lean forwards again to press your lips together and the kiss is longer this time, slower. You pull away just enough to disconnect your lips.

"Guess" Is all you say before you push her body back on the bed and you kiss her again but its a bit harder this time. It lasts for a minute too, a whole minute (and maybe even more than that because who's counting?) where you're just exploring each others' mouths. Her breathing becomes heavier and you shuffle a bit, careful not to break the kiss as you do.

You finally pull yourself off of her lips, just for a moment so you can get yourself out of the limiting confines of your clothes. Watching as you take your shirt off, Yunjin follows and pulls her top over her head. You move to unbutton and unzip her tight jeans. She's wearing the ones that you loved, the ones that cling to her thighs so perfectly. As you pull them off, Yunjin lifts her legs and straightens them to help you out.

"I've been wanting to do that all day" 

"Really? While you were meeting my parents?" She giggles, pretending to be shocked, she knew that you were looking. 

She caught on every time "Don't act like you didn't know" You reach for your belt and you sling it off, standing up from the bed for a moment just to drop your loose fitting jeans all the way. Then you get back into bed with her and you crawl in between her legs. Yunjin wraps them around you, bringing your body that much closer to hers.

You kiss her lips again, breathing slow and heavy breaths as you do, you couldn't get enough of her plump lips. Then you begin sliding your hand down between the crevice where your bodies met all the way down to her panties. You allow your hand to rest there, feeling the heat through the lacy fabric while you began to move your lips elsewhere. First the corner of her lips. then her cheek, then her jawline and eventually to her neck.

Yunjin moans softly, rolling her hips up into your hand as you begin to suck on her warm flesh. You lick the skin, then gently take it between your teeth and you suck hard enough to get a reaction but not to leave a mark of any kind. It's a lot to deal with. Your lips on her neck, your hand teasing her right where she needs you the most right now and the way your warm body felt on hers. No matter how torturous the teasing feels right now, she's loving the time and care you take with her body.

"Baby" She tries to whisper, but it comes out as more of a needy whine. Her hips haven't stopped moving yet either. "Please"

Thats when you finally slide your hand beneath the waistband of her panties and you palm her cunt. You take note of how wet she is as you begin to rub messy circles around her clit, providing enough pressure for now "You're soaked, baby" You announce, as if she wasn't already painfully aware.

"For.. you" She manages to say through her soft moans and then as quickly as you put them in, you slide them right out to use both of your hands to pull her panties off. Then you motion for her to lean up, and you reach around to unclip her bra, letting it slide off of her arms delicately. You struggle a bit to shimmy out of your boxers while you were still on the bed and once they're off, the two of you are completely bare in each others presence.

You put your body flush to hers again and you leave a kiss on her neck, sliding your hand back to where they belonged. "I'm going to put a finger in" You warn, and an enthusiastic hum from her follows. You slide your middle finger into the smooth and tight confines of her cunt. Yunjin moans, biting her lip as you curl the finger and begin pumping it in and out.

"Feels so.. good" She breathes and you decide to let your mouth explore other parts of her wonderful body. You kiss along the perfect curve of her collarbone, getting every inch wet with your saliva and your tongue. Yunjin didn't even have to say it in words, her body language spoke volumes. Especially the way she rides your fingers and whines your name.

You slide another finger inside and she moans louder, really beginning to feel the stretch as you work them both inside. You kiss all the way down to her left nipple which you take into your mouth almost immediately, her back arches a bit when you do and you grab her right breast with your hand. You begin to massage it, tweaking the nipple between your fingers while you sucked on the other one.

Then you switch, rubbing the saliva you left back into her breasts and along her body. It was like you were claiming her as yours or--for lack of better words--marking your territory. "Baby.. please" She gapes, her voice just above a whisper as she begs. You hum in response "Need you inside"

 So you slide your fingers out and take them between your lips "You taste so good, Jen" You mutter as you lean over her body, positioning yourself more properly between her legs. Theres a moment when you look into her eyes, your faces just a few inches apart. Then you take your cock into your hand and you begin stroking it, just lathering it up with the mix of her slick and your saliva. 

The moment you prod her entrance, another "Please" escapes her lips but this time it sounds so breathless, so desperate, like she'll die if you're not inside of her by the next second. You waste no more time and you push your hips forward immediately feeling the way her warm walls wrapped around you. It was like a tight hug and you fit so perfectly inside of her, like you were made to be inside of her.

Yunjin winces, her eyebrows upturned as she shuts her eyes all in an attempt to cope with the indescribable pleasure of you being inside of her. You lean down and close the gap, putting you lips together as she moans long high pitched whines. She wraps her legs around you and thats when you reach the hilt "Fuck" You curse on her lips, feeling her throb inside.

You begin to move, starting off slow and deep with your movements, sure to make her feel every every inch. You're bodies are on fire as you share this intimate moment of pleasure together, relishing in the particular feeling when your hips meet. She's so wet that you can hear it, you can hear it and its driving you insane. Yunjin feels so good, you just want to stay in the moment forever.

You move to kiss her neck again, mostly so you can allow her to moan as loud as she wants to. It's because you want to hear her pretty moans, every stutter, every word she tries to get out in an attempt to let you know how good she's feeling--more importantly how good you're making her feel. She does just that "Fuck baby... so deep" and "You're so big, stretching me so good" and "don't stop." You hear all the praise and you're obsessed with it.

"You feel so good" You grunt as you begin to pick up the pace, fucking her faster "So tight and wet for me" 

Theres a whimper that escapes her lips and shortly after a loud moan "Yes, faster please fuck me faster...harder." She pleads and you do just that, hearing the moment she begins to choke on her own words, literally losing breath as you began to hit the deepest spots inside of her. You can feel her nails scratching her back. "I love You" She moans, and the words sound so beautiful coming out of her mouth. 

"I love you" You groan, feeling the way her cunt pulses and throbs around your cock. It felt so fucking good you couldn't even believe how good she felt, like nothing ever before. "Fuck" You sigh, leaning up to hold yourself up by your arms. Yujin looks so beautiful with her eyes closed and her eyebrows kitted together. Her whole face is flushed a shade of red and so is her body as you get her closer and closer to her climax.

Yunjin grabs onto your forearms tightly, "Gonna cum for you" 

You reach your hand down and you begin to rub her clit in tight circles, feeling the swollen bud throb on your fingers. You're looking right at her, wanting to catch the exact moment that she topples over the edge. "Go ahead baby, let go" Your voice is soft while you say it.

She does it so beautifully. First her eyes go wide and she stares into nothing as her body goes rigid, you keep going and a moan gets caught in her throat. Yunjin gasps, then chokes out a sob right before she begins to tremble and shudder. You can feel it inside, the way her cunt begins to pulse and clench around your sensitive cock. It feels so good and it starts getting hard for you to hold back as well.

"I'm cumming" She finally gasps, releasing as her creamy slick begins to coat your entire cock. Her back arches as her orgasm knocks the wind out of her and it stays that way for a moment. With a longer moan she falls backwards and thats when you know she's done. "Fuck" She sighs as your thrusts slow to a stop. You lean down and kiss her, just to seal everything in. it's slow and sensual, a moment that could make it feel like time has frozen and the only thing that matters are her lips and her body.

Eventually you pull away from the kiss, and before you can even do anything, Yunjin flips you over. She's giggling as she does because she's still in her post-orgasm state, feeling like she's floating. The look in her eyes is so loving and lustful at the same time "Let me make you feel good" She says it in a tone that sends a chill down your spine, so sexy and naughty as she's about to please you.

Yunjin's hovering over your lap and you watch her every move. From the moment she wraps her hand around your throbbing cock to the second your tip comes into contact with her entrance. You squirm a bit, and she bites her lip, the look in her eye is dangerous, it’s fucking deadly the way it makes your heart stop for a moment. 

Your eyes are glossed over, lost in lust as your eyes flicker downwards. She's teasing, sliding the head through her folds and she just watches you with that desperate look in your eyes. "Please" You nearly whimper and thats all it takes for her to sink downwards. A throaty moan escapes your lips and a softer moan comes from hers as she meets your body, ass flush to your upper thighs. "Fuck me" You mutter, and you mean it both in a literal and figurative way.

She takes it literally and leans forward, holding onto your shoulders as she raises her hips then slams them back down onto your body. The creaking sound that the bed makes, the slapping noise that fills your ears when your skin meets and the filthy squelch that comes from between your legs almost sends you over the edge, like all the way. "You fill me up.. so... fucking good" she bites her lip harder as she begins to get in a rhythm, bouncing on you, up and down.

You hold onto her waist, thumbs pressing into her abs as you squeezed tightly. "Oh, babe you're so fucking good at that" You praise her, a breathy groan leaving your mouth as you begin to feel the heat build in the pit of your stomach. Yunjin slows down a bit and grabs your hands, you allow her to take them off her waist as she intertwines your fingers. She pins them to the bed and leans over, using them for support as she picks up the pace.

She does it so she can feel the way your hands grip hers as a reaction to the way she clenches and rotates her hips. It feels so fucking good, so incredible, so mind numbing to be inside of her. Then not to mention the view, the most beautiful girl in the world, naked, looking at you like you're the only one that exists in her world. Perky tits bouncing and jiggling up and down with the way she's riding you. "I.. fucking.. love you" You choke the words out and she leans closer, a satisfied smile on her face.

Yunjin kisses your lips, not for too long, just as long as you can keep up with and she giggles just a bit, her breath hitching when she slams her hips down again. "I love you" She closes her eyes, then puts her head down into the crook of your neck. You know she's chasing another orgasm, but you have no clue how you're gonna hold back until then.

Now she's squeezing your hands harder than you're squeezing, maybe she's closer than you thought "Jen, baby i'm about to.." You can't even finish your sentence as she begins to bounce harder, faster on your body. "cum" You manage to say, but it comes out silent and you doubt she could hear anything over her own moans. 

"Not yet baby, just a little longer" She begs, her voice sounding so erotic as she does. It doesn't help in the slightest.

But you try your hardest to get through without cumming, your labored breaths heaving directly into her ears. "I can't.. i'm going to cum in this... fucking-" She cuts you off with a loud moan, one that goes directly into your ear and it lets you know that she's reached her peak before you. Yunjin keeps going though, riding you mindlessly as if her mind was disconnected from her body. She's cumming, babbling in your ear as everything goes blank and you can feel every quiver inside.

Your body begins to shake as you reach the edge "Don't stop, don't fucking" You grunt as your cock begins to pulse and throb the pleasure almost too much to bare as you begin to paint her walls white with cum. "Fuck" You groan, low and long as you keep shooting endless ropes, fucking it deeper inside her as you thrust your hips up to stuff and fill her as much as possible. She stops moving and at some point you're no longer cumming.

The two of you just lay there, a hot and sweaty mess and a tangle of limbs and skin. It takes a moment for you to squeeze her hands which were still in yours, signaling that you were going to slide from under her. So you do and she rolls over and sits up, you lean in to leave another peck on her lips. "You know, the bath tub is huge and it could probably fit the both of us" 

Yunjin smiles and gets off of the bed, she looks back at you then walks off towards the bathroom swaying her hips purposely in a way that made your heart throb. You get up and go after her, walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. It was then when you realized how cold the room was and you begin to shiver a bit. "Make it hot... like, super hot" You tell her as she goes to turn the water on.

You watch the steam rise from the tub where the hot water begins to pool and you allow Yunjin to get in first. Then you get in after her, sitting behind her with your legs spread. She lets her body rest against you her back to your chest and everything's warm again. You rest your chin on her shoulder "No matter what anyone says, no matter what happens... I'll never fall out of love with you" You wrap yours arms around her torso.

"How are you so reassuring?" She hums, closing her eyes as the water slowly rises, warming the both of you up even more.

"I'm just honest" You shrug, your voice soft in the way she likes.

"I love you" 

"I love you more" You move to kiss her cheek, then she turns her face some more so you can capture her lips. No matter if the angle is kind of awkward, it still feels so right, so comfortable.

-

The next morning feels like a dream because you wake up and Yunjin's head is on your chest. Your head turns over to the digital clock on the nightstand and you see that it's eleven in the morning. You rub small circles in her back and you just lay there. For the first time in a while you feel true peace, matching her slow breaths with yours as you stared into nothing. 

When there's no rush to leave, no rush to get up, you didn't even have to stay awake. It would make no difference if you just went back to sleep and stayed like that for the end of the day. You close your eyes again, to do just that when you feel Yunjin start to stir.

A low, raspy noise escapes her lips as she does "Babe" she calls you.

"Yeah?"

She takes a deep breath in, finally opening her eyes as she gets to look at the clock "What time does breakfast end?"

"I think like twelve" You start rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and you sit up when Yunjin rolls herself off of you. She stands up and goes over to the phone where theres a menu of all the different breakfast items they had for order. 

Yunjin gets so focused that she doesn't even realize that you got out of the bed until she feels your arms snaking around her waist. You kiss her neck "Do you know what you want?" You question her.

"Yeah, you?"

She chews on her bottom lip as she flips through the pages "What are you getting?"

"The typical pancakes with eggs and bacon, a western staple breakfast if you ask me" You shrug.

"You're so bland" Yunjin jokes.

"I might be bland, but I managed to get you to love me. You like bland" You tease.

"Maybe I do"

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 1 // (7.9k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

Flight attendants prepare for landing.

The pilot's voice over the intercom combined with the lights all coming on at once rouses you from your sorry attempt at a nap once and for all. In your groggy state you observe the flight attendants moving up and down the aisles collecting trash and doing whatever it is they do.

You always sucked at sleeping on planes and this time was no different, catching minutes of what could only be described as light dozing. Hopefully you could crash immediately once you got to your childhood bed at your parent’s house. Flying across the country was so tiring.

About twenty minutes later, you are on the ground and making your way down the aisle to the jet bridge, and out into your hometown airport.

Airport is a generous term as it’s one gate with two flights a day to the same city. At least the journey to the arrivals area was just up an escalator and about a football field length of walking down a hallway. 

In the year you’ve been gone, things haven’t changed at all. Tourism banners adorn the back pickup area, giving the impression that the area had something to offer to visitors. The large university in town did draw visiting families after all, so it did indeed have a target audience.

Not you though, you’ve been here your whole life so most of the advertised offerings were old news to you. Growing up in an area often makes one take such things for granted however, so you idly walk by without much of a glance.

While a small airport was nice for getting in and out, you always beat the bag to baggage claim, so you linger around waiting until the carousel starts moving and bags begin to trickle out. 

The humid air hits you in the face as you exit the airport, already feeling like your hair has frizzed up to twice its size. Definitely did not miss this at all. The mountains in the distance are a welcome sight however. You’ve always been the outdoorsy type, so the hiking, fishing, kayaking, and all other things of that nature your area had to offer were always appealing no matter how much time passed.

Your parents’ familiar car rounds the bend and pulls up to the curb with your mom waving from the passenger side. You wave in response, excited to see them both for the first time in a year. It would be brief though as the real reason you were here was to house sit while they went on a cruise for their 30th wedding anniversary. You were on break for your masters degree anyways, so you didn’t mind so they could treat themselves. 

They get out, giving you a big hug before helping toss your bags into the trunk and heading home. They still lived in the house you grew up in about 30 minutes away from the airport in a more rural area.

After stopping to get your favorite greasy gas station food, you all settle in to catch up.

“So anything new happening around here?” you ask from the back seat.

“Oh you know, still continuing to build apartments and townhomes like crazy. New shops and restaurants too,” your dad responds. With the university in town expanding rapidly, so in turn was the surrounding area. Not a bad thing in your eyes. The unfortunate thing was that it was an expensive private university, which meant most locals were priced out. 

“Oh you remember the young man across the street from us we told you about? His name is Sukuna,” your mom asks.

“Kind of,” you reply. They’d mentioned him a few times when you’d talk on the phone. Something about drugs and the police coming by all the time. The longtime neighbor who’d lived there as long as you could remember passed away and a young guy had moved in shortly afterwards.

Your parents' neighborhood demographic could only be described as…boring. A mix of retired people and families with stay at home parents made up the bulk of it, which left plenty of time for people to get into each other's business. Throw an unmarried young man into the mix and you stick out like a sore thumb. Cause even a slight disruption and you might as well stick a target on your back for nosey neighbors for eternity.

“The police came by last night because he was doing donuts in his yard at 2 AM,” your mom says. 

“Wow that is definitely not the place to be doing that,” you laugh, “does he ever give you any trouble?”

“Personally, no we never have a problem with him. He really is a nice boy whenever we’ve talked to him. We can certainly do without his loudness and him speeding through the neighborhood. It’s a family neighborhood and there are kids playing outside! It’s just dangerous and irresponsible!” your mom rambles on with one of her long winded monologues. 

“And he must be selling drugs, he has to be! People coming over and leaving at all hours of the day and night. Who knows what kind of riff raff is coming into the neighborhood,” she continues. 

“Do the police do anything?” you ask with curiosity.

“Besides pulling him over for speeding and reprimanding him for breaking the noise ordinance, no there’s really nothing they can get him on. Can’t arrest someone for being a nuisance on their own property and with no neighborhood HOA, no one can say anything if he wants to tear up his yard. They’ve gotten him for reckless driving and I’m pretty sure he has a suspended license though. Like I said though, he’s a nice kid, he just seems to keep making poor choices and digging himself into a deeper hole.” your mom continues, but you start to tune her out. The woman loves to hear herself talk. You’re only here for a week and a half so you doubt you’ll have to worry about any of this. 

When you get to their house your parents walk you through their cat’s and dog’s routines, should be simple enough. You say good night to them and goodbye as they are leaving for the airport well before dawn tomorrow. Exhausted beyond reason, you immediately pass out. 

***

The next morning you are woken up by their dog, Macy. She’s super cute and super smart, so you have no issues with taking care of her. You let Macy out into the front yard, clipping her to an outdoor leash to let her roam around. 

You notice the gardens up near the road are looking a little overgrown, so you make a note to go investigate and clean them up a little after breakfast. Macy joins you on a walk to the mailbox to grab the newspaper. You can’t even remember the last time you’ve touched a newspaper, but you figure you’ll tab through it while here to help pass the time.

You glance across the street and see the evidence of what your parents were referring to. While everyone else had a nice manicured lawn, across the street the grass was torn to shreds and nothing but a muddy mess roughly in the shape of a circle. Beer cans were scattered about near the front porch. 

They weren’t kidding. Certainly quite the sight for a neighborhood like this. This was the type of behavior you’d expect from teenagers out in the country, not in a stuck up area like this. 

You head inside to unpack your suitcase and whip yourself up a quick breakfast. You’ll need to run to the store either today or tomorrow to go get yourself some groceries, making another mental note. 

Morning chores of bringing the paper in, letting Macy out, and feeding the cats are complete. After watching some TV and scrolling on your phone, you prepare to go check out the garden before it gets too unbearably hot. 

As you start to scope it out, you do notice a few cars come and go from across the street, never staying more than a few minutes at a time. Alright, maybe your parents weren’t exaggerating about that. 

You begin to rake the leaves out from the shrubs, trying to keep the metal from getting caught on the roots. After a while you start to have a decent pile when a tap on your shoulder scares the absolute shit out of you considering you had headphones in. 

You turn around and are met with some tall ass guy with a mess of pink hair. Markings on his face that you quickly realize are tattoos scrunch up as he peers down at you with a curious look on his face. 

Is this him? The neighbor boy? 

“Can I help you?” you take one earbud out and wipe your hand across your sweat caked forehead. 

“Who’re you? You’re not the middle aged yapper that's usually out here,” he responds with a deep voice that makes your eyes flick up in surprise. You are met by a pair of sunglasses, a backwards hat, and it’s impossible to miss the obvious stomach and chest muscles straining at the white t-shirt he has on. 

Hmm neighbor boy is kinda attractive. 

“I’m watching the house while they are away,” you say vaguely, the less interaction the better. 

“Oh so you’re a housekeeper?” he clicks his tongue, leaning back a little with his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm not a housekeeper!” you say a little too defensively which has him chuckling in response.

“Then once again, like I said earlier, who are you?” he pulls his sunglasses off revealing the deepest crimson eyes, eyes that suck you in, trapping your gaze in his. “If you just answered the first time you wouldn’t be making a fool of yourself right now.”

The nerve of this guy, does he think he’s the neighborhood watch or something? If anything you should be the one interrogating him for disrupting the whole street. 

You quickly introduce yourself before explaining. 

“I’m house sitting for my parents while they are on a cruise for their wedding anniversary. Watching their pets, keeping the place tidy, you know, typical shit like that,” you huff, trying to use him to shield yourself from the harsh sun. Might as well be useful for something.

“Oh, you’re the daughter?” he muses, nudging at your leaf pile with his foot. 

“I am, can you not do that? I worked hard clearing all that out,” you prod at his foot with your rake. 

“It’s fucking leaves, who cares where they go now, they’re out of the garden,” he counters, choosing to wind up and kick the pile instead. The leaves scatter around as he looks at you expectantly, clearly trying to get a reaction out of you. Which you want to give him so badly, but you’re not playing into his game.

“I hope you aren’t giving me landscaping advice judging by the pathetic state of your yard over there,” you scoff, gesturing at the torn up lawn.

“It’s my yard, I’ll do what I want with it,” he narrows his eyes at you before suddenly ripping the rake out of your hand and piling them back up. 

“There, better?” he leans down to stare you in the eyes, those long eyelashes fluttering in just the way to make you want to crack a smile. 

“Yeah, I guess, thanks for putting them back,” you mutter. You start to turn back around to continue your work, but you realize he’s not going away.

“Are these tomatoes?” he asks as he stands right where you are trying to work, pointing at what are obviously tomatoes on the vine. 

“No they’re bananas,” you retort sarcastically. Who the fuck doesn’t know what a tomato is, everyone and their mother grows them in this area. 

He turns around silently, brows furrowing with a frown, making you feel a little guilty for being like that. 

“You’re kinda mean you know that? Your parents are really nice to me, I hope they’ll be home soon. You didn’t even ask my name all this time.”

Okay mister sensitive all of a sudden. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I got in late last night and I might be a little tired and grumpy,” you give him a weak smile. He tries to keep a straight, serious face, but ultimately he fails, cracking into a boyish grin instead.

“I’m just giving you a hard time…kinda, you have to admit you were being a liiiiiitle harsh though. But anyways, I’m Ryomen Sukuna, I moved to this house a year ago, I’m 24 years old, and I grew up around here,” he declares with a smile. 

“Oh really? So did I,” you perk up a little. The name and looks don’t seem familiar.

“Yeah I’m from one county over. My parents actually bought me this place. I was getting into some trouble and they said a family oriented neighborhood should make me act better.”

“Oh? How’s that working out for you?” 

“Eh, there’s ups and downs,” he looks away as he speaks.

Interesting. Now the real question.

“What do you do for work? Feel like most people are gone at this time of day.”

“Oh I just do odd jobs here and there. No real career job, still figuring out what I wanna do, you know how it is,” he skirts the question as he pulls out a vape and inhales deeply. 

This guy definitely is into some suspicious shit. It’s a common situation for a certain subset of young guys around here. They start to mess around with drugs in high school, nothing too serious, just a way to get some extra money because a minimum wage job doesn’t pay shit. Plus it usually gets you in with the popular crowd..

Then you graduate, enroll in the local community college or if your parents are well off, you go to one of the big state universities.  More often than not, people end up back here either by dropping out or graduating and coming back. Considering his parents bought him a house, he seems to be one of the dropouts.

Eventually they realize nothing in this economically depressed area will pay even close to what moving drugs will, so they settle into a lifestyle with their fellow high school buddies whose parents aren’t cold enough to kick them off their credit cards.  

The final phase is usually getting locked up or getting a girl pregnant that makes them drop the habit once and for all. Or they just become a deadbeat dad because there’s plenty of those around here too. Something for everyone.

You’ll just play along while you’re here and soon it’ll all be out of your hands.

Macy comes trotting up the driveway and goes straight to Sukuna.

“Hi Macy,” he surprises you with a high pitched voice, reaching down to rub all over her as she wags her tail. 

“Oh you and Macy know each other?” 

“Yeah when your dad walks her and I’m outside he’ll let me pet her sometimes. She’s real cute.”

Your heart skips the slightest beat, just barely perceptible, but you notice and it surprises you. Something about guys being kind to animals…

“Well I better get back over there, let you get back to it,” Sukuna stretches, shirt hitching up revealing his toned stomach and what appears to be more ink. Your curiosity makes your mind race with thoughts of what other tattoos he’s got hiding under there…among other things.

Stop, you’ve got a partner back home. Well, maybe that’s giving him too much credit, but he does exist when he feels like it. You shake the thought away quickly, taking a few steps towards him walking away.

“Wait, do you want some of them? The tomatoes I mean? The ripe ones will go bad before my parents get back and I don’t really like them.” 

He turns around, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Sure, I’ll take them.”

You cut them off and place them in his large hand, noticing another set of tattooed rings of some sort on his wrist. Distracted by the ink, your hand brushes his by accident. It’s softer than you imagined, causing tingles to run through your wrist and up your forearm. 

“Whoops, sorry,” you utter, feeling yourself heat up from your clumsiness. 

“You’re good. Thank you, I’ll see you around. Lemme know if you need anything while you’re here,” he waves before turning around and going back across the street. 

What an…interesting guy. Maybe your parents were spot on about him after all. He seemed kind with a hint of boyish immaturity about him, nothing obviously malicious from that first interaction. If he wants to sell shit out of his house and mind his own business, you didn’t really have an issue with that. 

Plus dogs should be able to tell if someone is bad news right?

***

While walking Macy that evening, you run into a group of women you’ve known since you were younger. You stop to catch up and talk to them and realize they are talking about none other than Sukuna.

“He’s across the street from you dear, have you noticed anything off since you’ve been here?” Mrs Yates asked you as you approached.

“Um, not really, he briefly waved to me while I was in the garden, but that’s it,” you tell a white lie, not really wanting to get into it, giving him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Your poor parents having to live across from that scum, he’s only going to make their home value go down. I wish the police would hurry up already and lock him up again,” another woman you don’t recognize chimes in.

“Wait, again?” you press, surprised to hear that.

“Oh yeah hun, he’s got a rap sheet of charges. Nothing too bad, but go run a search online when you get home. If you see anything questionable, you’d best report it to the police, they should be doing patrols so the more we complain the more likely they’ll actually come by.” 

The more you listen to them, the more it sounds like it’s Sukuna versus the neighborhood. You don’t have allegiance one way or another, so you just shrug and continue your walk with Macy. You’d plan to look up his charges when you get home this evening. 

Day 2

“Goddammit!” you slam your hand on the dashboard of your dads car. You were trying to go to the grocery store but lo and behold, the battery was dead. Because of course it was. 

You pulled out your phone, trying to google how to start a car by yourself, which is stupid because you knew you needed cables and another car. You’re met with a text from your partner instead which surprises you. What doesn’t surprise you is how it’s berating and belittling, very typical for him. 

He’d had a fit when you said you were going to your parents, he didn’t like it very much at all whenever you did something without him, claiming you were likely hanging out with other guys. This was rich coming from him considering he was always gas lighting you about how you were being manipulative and controlling when you would call him out on his cheating and sexting random girls. 

You kept going back to him though, he’d give you those sweet, loving apologies, saying how it won’t happen again, you were the one he really loved, not to give up on him because he’s getting better. 

This time he was commenting on how you were being sketchy by turning your location sharing off, likely going out with ex boyfriends while you were in town. You just could never win with him, one step forward three steps back every time. 

As you pounded the dash, your anger morphed into shedding tears. Tears from being overwhelmed in the moment. It was devastating not having someone you could lean on. Instead of having someone tell you they loved you and missed you, instead you got accused of being a whore, slut, easy, all of the above. It was just so draining at this point.

And all you wanted was to go to the goddamn store, but no that can’t be easy either. Then you remember Sukuna’s words from yesterday, “lemme know if you need anything.”

Well, time to put your money where your mouth is neighbor boy. You make your way across his yard towards his front porch, kicking a beer can as hard as you could in the process, nailing the front step with a satisfying crash.

As you knock on the door, you realize there are a few cars in his driveway. If he has company he might blow you off. This might have been a mistake…

“Oi, ‘sup tomato girl?” you hear his deep voice call out from the second story window. 

“Can you come help me with my car?” you yell up to him, also what the fuck is that nickname?

“What’s wrong with it?” he’s leaning out the window, shirtless, with a cigarette hanging out his mouth, hair looking absolutely disheveled. What the fuck is he even doing?

You hear a muffled voice from inside but you can’t make out what it says, only Sukuna’s response. 

“No dipshit, it’s my neighbor’s daughter.” 

“Oh you fucked her yet?” 

Christ alive, you’re about to just turn around and get away from this freak show. As you start to do just that, Sukuna yells at you again.

“I asked what’s wrong with it? Where are you going? Hey!” 

You just ignore him and head back towards the street, you’ll ask someone else for help since he can’t be mature for more than five seconds. 

You make it halfway across his yard and that’s when you hear the screen door behind you slam and loud footsteps bounding across the yard. His strong grip lands on your wrist, whipping you around to face him. His shorts are baggy and laying low on his hips, exposing his boxers which are hanging on sharp V lines. And lord have mercy his body is absolutely shredded…and tatted. Your mouth is suddenly dry in the damp morning air. 

“What’s your deal? I’m trying to help you,” he cocks his head, staring down at you through his wide, red eyes. 

“I wasn’t going to stand there and be talked about like a piece of meat like that,” you raise your voice at him, but your facade cracks and the tears start to fall again.

“I didn’t say that though! My stupid ass friend did,” he argues back, squeezing your hand with his when he realizes what’s happening. 

“Oh god, look I’m sorry, I promise that’s not how I feel about you, I’ll whoop his ass when I get back over there.”

“It’s-sniff-fine, it’s not you, just already been a bad morning and this car issue isn’t helping,” you rasp out, the words of your boyfriend weighing heavy on you right now as you start hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” Sukuna’s red eyes widen with a hint of softness, pulling you toward a tree in his yard to get you both into the shade. He presses you into his chest and you just dig your nails into his bare skin, body shaking as the panicked moment tears through you,

How much do you even want to divulge to a man you barely know? Not much, especially because you already feel embarrassed enough that you can’t seem to get out of this relationship. 

“I’m fine, just personal stuff from back home,” your breathing is starting to come under control, him restraining you seemed to help ground yourself. You both stay like this for a while, the birds chirping in the morning air and the breeze making the leaves whisper in the wind.

“Thanks, I feel a little better now,” you finally exhale, noticing his rock hard torso under your fingers that you’d been oblivious to moments ago and a hint of cigarette smell lingering on his skin.

“Sure?” 

“Mhmm”

“Okay good, now what’s wrong with your car? I’m good with cars, I work on mine all the time,” he says with gentle words.

“It won’t start, I think it just needs a jump, it shouldn’t take long at all.”

“Okay, was that so hard? Damn girl. Go over there and I’ll meet you in your driveway,” he smirks before turning around. 

You watch him walk away, noticing tattoos also snaking down broad shoulders to his prominent back dimples. 

He’s hot, there’s no other way to put it. You wouldn’t be upset if he came over half naked to help you out. Hell you’d be content to just set up a chair in the driveway and watch him fuck around with your car, let’s be real.

Unfortunately for you, he returns with a shirt on. It’s a cut off tank top, so his muscular, inked up arms are still visible. At least he’s nice to look at.

His car is also a sharp looking red sports car with what looks like numerous aftermarket upgrades. You don’t know shit about cars, but it looks way more expensive and flashy than anything else in this neighborhood and it's questionable whether or not it's street legal. 

He pops the hood, hooking the jumper cables up to your battery and his. He inspects under the hood before turning back around.

“Your oil needs changing and you’re out of wiper fluid,” he says matter of factly, “lemme get this started then I’ll fix that other stuff for you.”

“Oh you don’t need to do that, I can take it to a shop-“

“Nonsense, allow me. A thank you for the tomatoes, then we’re even. Why don’t you go inside where it’s cool and let me deal with this.” 

He slicks his pink hair back, holding out his hand for your keys. It is hot as fuck out and you feel bad leaving him out here, but he seems to not be taking no for an answer. 

“Okay, come get me when you’re done. I was trying to go to the store.” 

He nods in response and you take your leave. About an hour later he barges in the front door, startling you from reading on the couch. 

“Knock much?” you laugh at him, only partially joking. He’s dripping sweat and you immediately jump up, moving to the kitchen to get him something to drink.

“Sorry, I probably should, young girl being home alone and all,” he grins sheepishly, “can I wash my hands?” he holds them out and you realize they are covered in oil and grime.

“Oh yeah, bathroom is the first door on the right upstairs.”

By the time he’s back downstairs, you’ve got a glass of cold lemonade waiting for him complete with a straw.

“Oh my god I’m going to destroy that,” he takes it and chugs it in about three sips. 

You burst out laughing as his eyes almost roll back with a loud sigh. 

“Best damn thing I’ve ever tasted,” he exhales, “oh AND a bendy straw! You’re spoiling me,” he exclaims with excitement to which you laugh in amusement.

“Hold on I’ll get you more, actually, why don’t you just take the pitcher home with you, you need it more than me.” 

“I'd rather drink it here,” he responds, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table, “it’ll get hot transporting it back to my place. Also your tires needed air, so I used my compressor to top them off. Lame for your dad to leave you with a car in this state.”

“Oh geez, I didn’t even know, thank you for that. I don’t know shit about cars so I’d never have noticed.” 

“No worries tomato girl, can’t have you getting stuck on the side of the road now can we? The cell service around here is too shit for that.”

“Did you just leave your friends over there alone?” you ask as you top off his glass.

“They’re fine, they’re helping me with something, I don’t need to be there,” he says between sips. 

“Can I get a ride with you to the store?” he blurts out after downing another glass.

“Ummm sure? Why?” you ask cautiously. You really don’t know him at all.

“I can’t drive right now,” he responds, fidgeting with the glass in his hands, averting his gaze. 

“You just drove across the street.”

“Yeaaaaaah I shouldn’t have done that though. My license is suspended right now,” he says bluntly.

Oh my. That’s…something. 

“It’s suspended?” 

“Yeah, I got too many tickets, it’s suspended until my court date.” 

Your mind goes back to the list of offenses you’d looked up on the county police department website last night. There had been a slew of high speed tickets that were considered reckless driving charges, underage drinking, drunk in public, drug possession charges, driving with a suspended license, vandalism, trespassing, and breaking and entering. Nothing too terrible, but a long list nonetheless.

All that and here he was at the kitchen table looking cute as fuck sipping lemonade out of a pink cup with a bendy straw. 

“So what do ya say? Can I come with?” he presses. He’s a demanding thing, also a little impulsive, which might explain his record.

“Sure why not, let’s leave in a half hour.”

“Hell yeaaaaaah! It’ll be fun. I’ll go shower and meet you back over here,” he flashes that boyish grin at you again as he dashes out the door. 

While he’s gone, you finish tidying up. You are in the hallway as you hear the front door open again, but it quickly shuts. Instead you hear a knock at the door, making you chuckle under your breath, knowing damn well Sukuna tried to come in without asking. 

“It’s open,” you yell down to him.

“What’s the point of knocking if you don’t even come down to see who it is?”

“I already know who it is, I said we were leaving in 30 minutes.” 

“I could have been a criminal or a rapist!” he scoffs as he throws himself onto the living room couch, pulling out his phone to text. He’s got a gold hoop in his ear and a gold chain around his neck along with a backwards hat. It’s honestly giving drug dealer because there’s no jobs around here that pay enough to buy shit like that. A pair of shorts and a red shirt pull it all together.

“Aren’t you already a criminal though?” you say before thinking, unable to help yourself.

“Ha ha, very funny tomato girl,” he rolls his eyes as you approach him. 

“Sorry that was a low blow.”

“It’s fine, it’s all public record. I assume you already know my history.” 

“I do, I got curious. So what kind of drug possession was it?” you tease.

“Why? You buying?” he winks at you and flashes that cocky grin again. A grin that is starting to stir up butterflies in your stomach whenever you see it. 

“Depends.” 

He arches an eyebrow in surprise. 

“Nothing you should be using,” he shakes his head, sitting up and staring intently at you. Those crimson pools are threatening to suck you in again, each time you stare into them, the closer you get to drowning in them all together.

“Oh, the hard stuff huh?”

“Mhmm, I don’t use my own stuff. Just smoke weed but nothing more than that. Sometimes I have to test the product, but that’s for business purposes.” 

“Fascinating, let’s go now,” you hold out your hand to pull him up off the couch. 

He grabs your hand, thinking he’s going to pull himself up, but instead he yanks his arm back so you lose your balance, falling into him on the couch instead. Your face crashes into his rock hard chest and you end up straddling his thigh.

“Oh my, tomato girl, did seeing a man work on your car get you all hot and bothered?” he smirks, looking down at you with lidded eyes.

You smack his chest as you sit up. “What the fuck is your problem? You petulant child!”

“Um I was trying to get up and I slipped,” he teases, holding his arms back away from you, “besides, I’m not touching you, see?”

You scoff and quickly get up, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“No more lemonade for you, now go get in the car before I change my mind!” 

“Yes ma’am,” he jumps up and holds the front door for you. He then proceeds to open the driver side door for you, shutting it before circling around to the passenger side. 

He slides a pair of expensive looking sunglasses on and slouches down in the seat next to you. 

“Buckle your seatbelt,” you tap his shoulder.

“Yes mom,” he groans.

You’re both silent as you drive down the road, Sukuna engrossed in his phone next to you.

Your phone meanwhile starts blowing up with calls and texts. 

“Damn, miss popular,” Sukuna grabs your phone from the center console before you can.

“Cam sure is being a needy bitch,” Sukuna huffs. Dammit, he must be in one of those moods where he’s blaming you for everything under the sun.

“Yeah he does that,” you don’t elaborate. 

“Who is that?” Sukuna probes.

“He’s my boyfriend, kind of, not really, I don’t really know honestly.”

“Oh. You’ve got a man?” Sukuna hums. 

“Yeah,” you give a short response. The phone rings continuously for the next ten minutes, making you get super embarrassed.

“Listen tomato girl, I’m not an expert on relationships, but either this guy is experiencing a national emergency or he’s acting like a crazy stalker. And based on how quiet you are, I’m leaning towards the latter.” 

“Yeah you’re not wrong. He’s very…intense.”

“Is this normal behavior from sir Cam?” Sukuna throws his phone on the floor to give you his full attention.

Unfortunately.

“Sometimes, yes,” you say quietly, desperate to move onto something else.

“Does he hurt you?” Sukuna’s tone gets deeper, a hint of protectiveness in his words.

“Sukuna we’ve known each other for barely a day, I really don’t think we should be talking about this.”

“Hmm well that’s more telling than any other answer you could have given,” he says through gritted teeth, staring out the front windshield. 

“It’s none of your concern, drop it.”

“Alright, fair enough, still doesn’t mean I don’t care and can’t voice my displeasure, free speech and all,” he mutters.

You grab your phone and opt to just turn it off. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you change the subject. 

“Nah, I’m more of a fling kind of guy. I mean sometimes I’ll be into one girl for a while, but it’s never serious,” he answers. Seems pretty on brand for him. Drug dealer, in trouble with the law, doesn’t seem like long term relationship material.

“Nothing wrong with that,” you click your tongue in response. The rest of the drive is in silence until you pull into the parking lot.

“Put your number in my phone in case we get separated,” Sukuna says as you walk towards the store which is comical because the store is not even that big compared to ones in the city you live in. You do so anyway and then call yourself from his phone.

“Done.”

“Good.”

“What are you going to get?” you try to make conversation, you’re just so thrown off after talking about Cam in the car. Something about him reaching out triggers that freeze response in you, then Sukuna saying something about it just made you feel bad, like rubbing salt in the wound.

“Gonna get some stuff to make to use those tomatoes,” he hums. 

“Do you like cooking?” 

“Yeah I do, I’ve always been into it.”

“That’s cool. I’m not the best cook,” you laugh.

“Well you make a mean lemonade, if we combine we can make a great overall meal,” he pulls you into his side with one arm. He smells really good, a mix of his body wash and cologne filling your senses. It’s oddly comforting after everything that happened.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad back there,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, one arm still wrapped around you, “I’m sure it’s easier said than done to get out of a shitty situation like that. Just know, you’re too nice and way too damn pretty to be dealing with all that.” 

You feel tears rush to your eyes. That’s the nicest thing someone has said to you in a long time, especially from a man. You can’t be crying in a grocery store parking lot though with a guy you barely know, so you try to suck it up.

“Thanks Sukuna, that’s really nice of you to say.” 

“It’s the truth, I just hope you remember it if you ever hear otherwise, don’t forget it.” 

You end up just following each other through the store, dividing the shopping cart into his and yours. 

“We should get popsicles,” Sukuna exclaims, “it’s so hot outside.”

“That’s such a good idea,” you laugh. 

“Here, let’s get a box of 20, that should last us until you leave, plus a few extra,” Sukuna grins, reaching into the freezer. 

“Think fast,” he presses the box against your bare shoulder, making you shriek from the cold on your skin.

“Oh my god!! You are insane,” you slap his arm playfully, “I’m locking those up in my house and not sharing anymore.”

“Wow there you go being mean again,” he feigns a sad frown.

“And that wasn’t mean?” 

“No, I was just making sure they were cold enough, can’t test it on yourself if you’re expecting it,” he says confidently, that boyish grin making your heart flutter. 

“Yo Sukuna, what’re you doing here?” you hear the voice of a man behind you. You turn to see a man with brown hair and a similar mark as Sukuna on his nose. 

“Choso,” Sukuna’s voice becomes a low growl, his normally playful demeanor has vanished. His eyes are almost black now and he stands up a little straighter.

“Didn’t know you had a girl now boss?” the man says, a hint of shakiness in his voice.

“What the fucks it look like?” he snaps, his voice making your veins feel like ice. 

“I uh, wasn’t sure-“

“You’re still short this month, I better see money for everything you sold or you won’t like the consequences. You wouldn’t want to end up like Toji would you?” he says so low you can barely hear him, but Choso’s eyes and face look like he’s seen a ghost. 

“I, I will, don’t worry boss, it won’t happen again.”

“I know it won’t. There won’t be a second time,” Sukuna’s menacing voice makes you want to get the fuck away from here and whatever this is. 

As soon as it’s begun, it’s over though, Choso dipping out towards the front and Sukuna snapping back into his chipper demeanor again.

“Sorry about that sweets, when duty calls, I must answer,” he hits his vape in the middle of the frozen food section. 

“You’re scary,” you say lowly to him.

“Good, that’s what I was going for,” he smirks at you, “now let’s get this stuff home before it melts yeah?”

***

Sukuna helps you bring all your groceries into your parents house. While you go to the bathroom, he pulls everything out of the bags and groups them based on freezer food, vegetables and fruits, pantry items, and toiletries.

“I wasn’t sure where you wanted to put everything, but hopefully this helps,” he says as he places a box of cereal on the counter.

“Aww thank you, you didn’t have to do that,” you say with a smile. 

“I didn’t, but I wanted to,” he flashes a toothy grin your way. “Do you want to take custody of the popsicles or should I?”

“Probably me, lord knows what goes on in your house and I don’t want to accidentally come up on something trying to get a popsicle,” you laugh.

“Oh hush, it’s not that bad in there,” Sukuna retorts, handing you things to put away as you sort through the cabinets. “You’re probably right though, don’t want you coming across any unsavory characters,” he sighs.

***

Later that evening, you get Macy ready to go on a walk. The heat of the day has lessened significantly and you’re grateful for it. As you reach the street, you notice Sukuna picking up the trash in his yard. 

“Oh hey! Where are you off to?” he strides towards you, tossing some beer cans in the open trash can sitting out in the yard.

“Just taking Macy on her walk, wanna join?” you offer without thinking. What if people see you with him, won’t that cause the rumor mill to fly? 

His face lights up and you immediately dismiss those thoughts. At least he’s someone who seems to enjoy spending time around you, unlike your man back home who is always so quick to complain or put you down. Who cares if he has issues, most all of us do, some are just better at hiding them.

“Gimme like five minutes to finish cleaning up the yard. I’m having people over and don’t wanna give the cops more of a reason to be up my ass.”

“Oh, trying to impress someone special?” you joke. 

“Sure, you could say that,” he shrugs, facing away from you now. 

You chuckle and end up sitting in the grass to wait, rubbing Macy’s belly as she rolls over. Moments later you feel his presence next to you, holding out his hand for you.

“Um I was offering to help Macy up actually,” he teases before pulling you up. He gives Macy a few pets before taking her leash from your hand. 

“Wait, popsicles!” you exclaim.

“Holy shit you’re so right! I’ll hold Macy if you wanna go get them,” he says with serious conviction. 

“What flavor?” 

“Red.”

“Red isn’t a flavor,” you snort.

“You know what I meaaaaaaannn,” he whines.

Soon you are back with popsicles in tow and you begin your walk.

“So what’s a typical day like for you?” Sukuna asks as he falls into step next to you. 

“Hmmm, usually I go to class, teach my undergrad class, try to squeeze lunch in there, go to the lab to work on my research, then get home sometime in the evening to try and wind down.”

“Your boyfriend live with you?”

“Nope, I live alone. Relationship is too volatile for a long term lease,” you laugh. 

“So are you on or off right now?” he asks, words slightly muffled by the popsicle at his lips. 

“I guess on, I don’t know, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Speak of the devil,” you mutter as your phone starts ringing. You don’t answer, but after three more calls Sukuna yanks it out of your hand.

“Sukuna what are-“

“Hello? Who’s this? You’re looking for who? Oh you must mean tomato girl,” he snickers as he puts the phone on speaker.

“She’s busy right now, she has one of my popsicles in her mouth so she can’t talk, it’s pretty big and sticky, her hands can’t touch the phone in their state,” he puts the phone on mute as he busts out laughing and you can’t help but join in. 

“What the fuck, you fucking serious? You better get your hands off my girl,” Cam’s furious voice comes through the phone.

“I’m not touching her, she’s standing like five feet away.”

“What about this popsicle-“

“It’s grape flavored, she seems like she’s really enjoying it. Well I’m going to go now, nice meeting you Chris!” he says sarcastically as he hangs up.

“He is so pissed, bet he’s having a nuclear fallout of a meltdown right now. That felt good though,” you sigh, secretly thankful for that. It’s hard to get payback on him sometimes. 

“Yeah well he’s a piece of shit, better never visit with him or there might be a problem.” 

“Sukuna you’ve known me for two days,” you chuckle.

“So? You’ve been the nicest person to me in this stupid neighborhood, I haven’t and won't forget that.”

You both continue walking in silence, passing a few neighbors who give you a confused look. Suddenly you hear a car behind you, realizing it’s a police car with the lights on. What the fuck.

The officer gets out and approaches the both of you.

“Good evening, got a call about a young girl being followed by a suspicious man, looks like you two.”

What? Someone called the cops on Sukuna for walking with you?

“There must be a misunderstanding, I’m just walking my dog with my neighbor,” you reply.

“Can I see your identification sir?” he turns his attention to Sukuna.

“Look man I’m not doing anything wrong-“

“ID. Now, don’t argue with me boy.”

Sukuna fishes his wallet out, handing the cop his license. 

“Mam do you know he has a record and a suspended license? Is he giving you any trouble?”

You are starting to get irritated, Sukuna did nothing wrong, literally just existing.

“I do know, and no he’s not giving me trouble. I just wanted company walking my dog since it’s starting to get dark.” 

The cop looks between you both, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“With all due respect sir, aren’t there bigger issues in the community than a guy walking down the street?” you state.

“Watch your mouth,” the cop retorts in anger. “If he tries anything, just give us a call. Be careful and have a good night.” 

You both watch as the car hits an illegal U-turn and speeds back towards the main road.

“That was brilliant,” Sukuna smiles at you. 

“It was also stupid, shouldn’t be talking to shit to a cop,” you laugh. “It was just bothering me how they’re obsessing over you when there are bigger issues in the world. You literally can’t drive, but now walking is illegal? Just pisses me off,” you scoff with irritation. 

“Facts,” Sukuna agrees, “if people wanna buy drugs, that’s their choice. If they don’t get it from me, they’ll get it some other way.” 

While you don’t love the whole drug dealer thing, he does have a point. 

You continue your walk without any more incidents, laughing and joking the entire time. Sukuna is quite charming and charismatic, you're starting to realize. Not in a bad way though, he appears to have a genuine kindness about him and despite his questionable actions, seems like a decent person. 

“I’m having people over tonight, you’re welcome to come by if you’d want,” he says as he walks you to your door. It’s almost dark now, the front porch light bathing you both in a soft yellow hue.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll pass,” you answer. You really aren’t interested in getting involved with all that, also not nearly social enough to go up in a place where you barely know one person. Plus you probably have to do damage control with Cam.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Sukuna smirks at you, running his hand through his unruly pink locks. 

“Have a good night, be careful,” you joke and he just snickers in return, rolling his eyes. 

He turns to walk back up the driveway as you lock up for the night. 

Chapter 2 >>

Masterlist

[ceilidho]

prompt: ghost and you are the only survivors of a military plane crash. you spend weeks alone in the wild together. (ns/fw)

-

In the years you’ve worked as a flight attendant, you’ve never experienced a plane crash before. It’s exactly like what you would’ve expected.

Clear skies rapidly turn grey outside the tiny windows to your left and right; you notice it almost instantly because it casts a pall over the interior of the aircraft. It makes the small group of men that you’ve been travelling with sit up a bit straighter in their seats, only a few of them looking genuinely concerned. Military men often do; it’s in their nature to worry and fret. You feel it like a twinge in your gut, like something telling you that you don’t usually fly through dark clouds. 

The soft ding of the seatbelt sign comes on a handful of seconds later. The turbulence only a few moments after that.

Pilots are trained to avoid cumulonimbus clouds like they’re a harbinger of death (and they are). Even large airliners avoid crossing the path of a cumulonimbus. Your pilot should’ve known to divert and fly around the cloud, avoiding the possibility of flying through a thunderstorm altogether. The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom for everyone to fasten their seatbelts and you notice distantly that his voice seems frazzled. 

Your hands grip the seat as you strap in. This is exactly the kind of scenario you’ve prepared extensively for, but in the face of it, your stomach tosses and turns. Practice can only hope to ape reality; it often falls short. 

From across the aisle, you lock eyes with the lieutenant in the skull mask that politely refused a beverage ten minutes ago. The plane jostles you violently in your seat as it passes through a rough patch of turbulence. Even the lieutenant, twice your size and rooted into his seat, his hands clamped around the arm rests, grunts when he’s rocked side to side. 

There’s a loud pop outside the aircraft and the plane teeters dangerously to one side. The bags in the overheads bash against the doors, the plastic squeaking under their weight. 

Someone screams. The other attendant sitting across from you is already shouting, “Brace! Brace! Brace!” The mantra bursts from his chest along with spittle and the singular, quivering note of fear. There’s not much more you can do but follow his lead, dropping your head to your knees and wrapping your arms around your legs.

Your stomach drops when the plane descends far too suddenly. You would’ve been pulled back against the wall if your arms weren’t wrapped around your legs. You have enough time to peek up briefly to see all of the other men assuming the same position, some with their heads pressed against the seat in front of them before the aircraft nosedives and there’s a sharp whistle in your ear and the lights flicker ominously in the cabin and something tears and tears and tears and—

Then it’s dark.

Your grip must have loosened because the world disintegrates after you hit your head. There’s only a faint buzz and something ice cold, something that grips you from the inside and slithers over your skin. The aftermath of a crash is so quiet for the devastation it brings.

The big one in the scary mask is the one who drags you from the wreckage, lifting you into his arms when you’re still too dazed to do more than whimper pathetically. Fear and pain and adrenaline have crumpled you up into a little ball. 

“Keep your eyes open,” he says, and maybe it’s a shout. His voice is so loud. When you open them, you nearly close your eyes instinctively when you see the gaping hole in the plane where it’s been torn apart. 

“Where are—” it hurts to speak, but you have no choice, “—the others…”

He doesn’t respond. That makes it worse. You slip your arms around his neck so he can hike you closer up his chest. Slung over his shoulder is a black duffle bag that he must have pulled from the overhead, or what’s left of them. When your head turns on a swivel, you startle at the sight of the other attendant still strapped in his seat, his neck snapped back at an odd angle. 

You turn your head away. 

“My leg hurts really bad,” you sob, fingers clutched in the sweat-matted fabric of your saviour’s shirt. 

He palms the back of your head and tips you just enough for you to meet his eyes. Something dark shutters over his face for a split second. If your eyes weren’t filled with tears, you might’ve noticed it. It passes fast though, too quick for you to register it in these conditions.

“‘Gonna be okay, sweetheart,” he says, gentler this time, rough-sounding like he’s not used to using that tone. “Gonna get us out of here and then I’ll check your leg. Just hang on to me.”

It’s hard to catalogue every moment because you drift in and out of consciousness. You feel the man shift you in his arms whenever he clambers down the side of the mountain your plane must have flown into. There’s debris from the wreckage scattered around the rocks, the other half of the plane not too far away. When your eyes blink open briefly, you see how decimated the other half is. 

There aren’t any other survivors. Only bodies. He doesn’t stop for them.

Far off from the wreckage, he sets you down onto the soft earth and rifles around in the bag he took. There’s a first aid kit with supplies that he uses to wrap your ankle, which is swollen and tender. The adrenaline crash is nearly more violent than the plane crash you just survived. It wracks through your body as the lieutenant strips your shoes and socks, gently manipulating your foot in his big hands. You notice he’s also lost the mask.

Ochre yellow and green plains spread outward from the mountains. You remember from the flight maps on board that you were somewhere over Mongolia, but the exact mountain range eludes you. This could be the Khangai or the Sayan or the Altai, but you have no way of knowing. 

“Is there a…a phone in the bag? How’s anyone gonna know we’re out here?” You sound helpless, smaller than you’ve ever sounded. 

He shakes his head. The tight ball of tension in the middle of your chest grows tighter. The thought that you’re stranded in the mountains in Mongolia, thousands of miles away from home and no way to get help is almost enough to send you into a panic attack. 

A hand cups under your chin to tilt your head up. His face up close is exquisite and haunting—weathered in the way that career military men often are, burn marks and old scars littered across the delicate skin, lips perpetually chapped, and a nose that looks like it’s been broken way more than once. You can’t look away. 

“Someone’ll be looking for us,” he says. It’s reassuring only because he says it like it’s a certain thing. “Don’t know if you saw who was on that flight roster. A lot of important men were supposed to arrive in Germany at twenty-one-hundred hours.”

You nod, tears still dribbling down your cheeks even when he swipes his thumb across to rub them away. He’s not wrong. There was a colonel on your flight after all. Dead now, hot corpse still steaming in the wreckage half a kilometre away, but he would’ve been important enough to warrant an immediate rescue. 

You go still under his touch. “You weren’t on the flight list.”

He shakes his head. “Never am.”

“But you were with them?” You remember someone on the flight addressing him by his rank. It was early on in the service, when you were still strapping down bags and doing cross-check, making sure everything was in place. But you remember, even then, seeing that there were more bodies on the plane than names on the list; you’d brought it up to the captain, but he’d brushed off your concerns. Maybe he knew the reason behind the lieutenant’s name being held off the passenger list. 

It’s all moot now anyway. 

“Can’t bring a ghost on a flight,” he says darkly, like it’s a joke. Like you’re in on it together. “Can’t put it on the roster at least. S’bad luck after all.”

It’s a monstrous joke at a time like this. Your life feels cracked in half and the scarred brute of a man that pulled you from the wreckage makes jokes like it happens to him every other day. When the sky splits later that night and pours out a lake’s worth of rain, it feels appropriate. You huddle with the lieutenant at the base of a densely branched tree and shake.

Five weeks in the mountains go by slowly. 

The shelter he builds is haphazard but meticulous, composed of various materials that Ghost scavenges from the plane wreck. A door becomes a makeshift roof. He makes you sit and wait as he collects dozens and dozens of branches, chopped down from the surrounding trees and fashioned into a lean-to. Padded with moss and leaves. 

“I can help with getting the leaves,” you protest when he catches you hobbling around and carries you back to the nest of blankets and tarps that he’d pulled from the plane. He goes back every so often to see what remains and what can be used. It’s the only time other than when he hunts that Ghost leaves you alone for even a second, preferring to be within arm’s length of you the rest of the time.

“You can help by sitting your ass down,” Ghost grunts without even looking up at you. 

You frown, fingers digging in the dirt by your feet. It’s a silly complaint but there’s never anything to do but wait. 

In the early morning hours, Ghost goes off and hunts for you, when the world is still quiet and the animals are still asleep. They’re sluggish when dawn still hasn’t peeled its pink belly off the surface of the world. Ghost comes back with a deer slung over his shoulders one week, his knife still protruding from its neck, and your stomach only twists a little bit. Not used to seeing where your meat comes from. 

There’s not much choice when you’re on your own in the elements. Every day, you expect to see a helo appear over the horizon, and you end each night crestfallen when it doesn’t. 

It’s not like you haven’t completed basic training, a prerequisite to applying as a military flight attendant, but admittedly it’s been several years and basic never taught you to hunt for your food. You did other things that seemed, at the time, inconsequential to your career path, like learning to rappel and how to wait an hour for your NCO to show up for PT in the morning. 

Even if your ankle hadn’t been badly sprained, you wouldn’t be much help. Ghost’s remarkably self-sufficient. It makes you question whether he’s done this before—whether he’s gotten stranded in the woods for weeks on end and had to learn to live hand-to-mouth. 

“Have you…where’d you learn all of this?” you ask him in the dead of night, when the wind is a shrill hiss through the trees and you cower close to him in your sleeping bag (also salvaged from the wreck, though his has a tear down the side of it).

Ghost is quiet for a moment. “All over the place. Been doing this for years, love; had to learn.”

“Anything ever like this?”

Even with the absence of his mask, it gets so dark at night that you can’t see his face. You can hear the wry smile that plays on his lips in his voice though. “I’ve had worse days.”

There’s a story there that you see like a fish darting under the water. Too quick for you to catch with your bare hands. 

You wake up with your cheek pressed against his pillowy chest most days. It’s embarrassing at first, but you learn to let it melt off you when you meet Ghost’s eyes and there’s nothing there but piercing blue. They root you in place most of the time but they never tell you to move. 

It takes a while before your ankle starts noticeably healing. In the intervening weeks, Ghost almost dotes on you, in a rough, untested sort of way. Like he doesn’t have much experiencing tending to another person besides himself for weeks on end. As the weeks drag on, it morphs into something unrecognizable, like a wounded animal healing wrong. 

It starts when Ghost insists on sharing sleeping bags. It’ll be easier for him to pull you close if something tries to drag you off in the night (and doesn’t that thought put you on the brink of a panic attack until he shushes and soothes you). It escalates when you make the mistake of tending to the meat hanging over the fire while he fiddles with the little radio he’d dragged back from the plane, and the look he gives you when you tell him that supper is ready borders on reverent. 

It gets even worse when he has you both strip your clothes off on a particularly cold and rainy night, wrapped around each other for warmth. 

“Sweetheart, you’re shaking,” you hear him rumble, big hand drawing a line down your back. You do tremble at that. “C’mon, get closer. Gonna warm you up.”

You wake up in the middle of the night when your ankle is starting to feel solid enough that you think you can manage to go off on your own to relieve yourself instead of waking Ghost up again. That’s the plan anyway. Before you’ve even managed to crawl all of six feet away from your sleeping bag, a rough hand pins you by your shoulder to the ground and the heavy, over two-hundred pound body of your companion drapes itself over you.

“Where the fuck do you think yer going?” Ghost snarls. 

For the first time in a week, there’s a moment of genuine fear. It’s like realizing for a split second that the animal you’ve let creep up behind you is a lot more dangerous than you thought it was. 

“I have to pee,” you whisper-hiss, heart still skittering in your chest.

He’s silent behind you while he mulls that thought over; you think maybe he’s still half-asleep, his body acting on instinct before his brain’s ready to take over. The tension only releases you when he finally picks himself up off you, but it’s immediately made worse when he insists on accompanying you into the woods. 

He doesn’t even turn around while you pull your underwear down and squat. Ghost’s eyes are bright in the dark, trained on you like it’s the thing that gives him purpose. 

Things change in the woods. There are people who are only one bad thing away from reverting to their neolithic mind; as the weeks go on, you see the way his eyes change when they fall on you, no longer detached but gluttonous. 

There’s a brown bear that slouches past your camp one day, sniffing around only because it’s curious, and Ghost all but completely obstructs your vision with how he shoves you behind him. He puffs up big when the bear gets too close, keeping you hidden until it snorts and ambles off, not interested in the pair of you. 

Do animals act like this? He curls you around him in sleep, legs tangled together. When you soak in the lake under the glare of the sun, he slips into the water and comes up behind you until his hands close around your waist and he tugs you closer to the edge, away from the deeper parts. It’s testament to how long you’ve been out on your own that you’re no longer unaccustomed to the feel of his hands on your bare flesh. 

His lips on your bare shoulder are a little less commonplace, but you only shiver and stare out at the mountains. 

Then one day, you look up into the sky away from the sun and there it is, a black dot on the horizon at first. You scream for Ghost, who’s skinning a fish on a damp log near you and start waving your arms wildly in the air, unbridled joy streaming out of you. He’s quick to pull his mask on when the chopper lands a few hundred yards away and two similarly dressed soldiers spill out. 

You ignore the stiffness in his body as he sits beside you in the chopper, pinning you against the side. Ignore the way he answers for you when the men start asking questions. 

What does it mean to come back worse?

“Wha’s that, love?”

“Trauma bonding,” you repeat, swallowing nervously. It’s months later, but the weeks on the mountain and the forest still haunt you. The real world seems flimsier now that you’re back in it, less real somehow. Here, no one hunts for their food. “The therapist said that we trauma bonded. And—and that’s why you won’t—”

Here’s where the words can’t seem to come out on their own. 

He sleeps in your bed these days—can’t stand to be more than a room away from you at any given time. Follows you into the bathroom when you need to clean up at the end of the day, crowding you into your too-small shower. The you from a month ago wouldn’t have been able to imagine inviting a six-foot-four soldier into your apartment, but—and here’s where your brain scrambles a bit to catch up—you didn’t invite him in. 

He lifts a brow. The mask comes off in your apartment, so you’re able to see the way his lips slip into something unimpressed. “Why I won’t what?”

You swallow. “You know. Leave.”

“Do you want me to leave, love?” 

That’s the crux of it. The heart of it. You really don’t. In the dark sometimes, if the wind rustles outside your window just right, shrill like those weeks in the forest and out on the open plains, your heart pounds in your chest until it grows so tight that you think it’ll just stop. 

“No,” you whisper in response to his question.

Most nights, you wake up drenched in sweat, still half in a dream where you turn your head and the other flight attendant is staring back at you with wide, empty eyes. Blood dribbling down from his head. Where a plane is ripped in half, grey metal strewn across a mountain and the valley below is a dark pit where you go to die. 

Then you roll over in your bed and Ghost is there, already awake and cupping a wide hand over your cheek, laying kiss after kiss across your face. Murmuring that it’ll be alright, that you’re safe. That he’s got you. 

His breath is hot on your skin.

You let him roll you over and spread your legs when he says those things. Let him be a bit filthy after being so kind to you in the woods. 

He spits on your pussy and rubs it in with a coarse thumb, chuckling when you yelp all breathlessly and squirm away. Sometimes when you fuck, he gets rough with you and slaps it, but he’s always tender with you after a nightmare, content to sooth you with his mouth on your pussy until you’re close to hyperventilating. 

“S’alright, sweetheart,” Ghost breathes, spearing you on his turgid length, barrel chest heaving when he finally crams it all in. Always a bit too big for you to take without crying. “I got you, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you.”

It’s a new development, but it feels older than time. You could’ve let it happen in the woods and you might have, if no one had ever come. 

“Look at me, sweet girl,” he tuts when you turn your head to the side, holding your face in one hand until you have no choice but to stare at the bulk of him straining over you. He has shoulders like mountains that roll when he pushes into you. “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”

You don’t want to acknowledge what this is: that you found something in the woods and it followed you home.

[sunday-bug]

Whiskey & Wings

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Spoiled Brat!Girlfriend!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content: suggestive conversations, oral sex (m receiving), Bucky being scared to fly

18+ Minors DNI (NSFW)

Synopsis: Bucky boards a private jet to meet your parents… come on, how could you not join the club with your Congressman? 😏 ✈️

A/N: not beta’d // based off this request from my stunning, hilarious anon - love you 🤭 I hope he’s loud enough for ya!

“I appreciate you, ma’am,” Bucky says into the phone before hanging up. You look at him adoringly, loving listening to him being a perfect gentleman to your mother on the phone.

“I still can’t believe your parents sent a plane. This is too much,” he scoffs, gesturing to your family’s private jet. You shrug, used to the luxuries that come with your life.

“You’re so spoiled,” he huffs, running a hand through his slicked back hair.

“I know,” you sing-song, walking to him and putting your hands on his chest. “My daddy works hard and likes to take care of his girls. This is just one way he does it.”

“Do you call your father ‘daddy’?” Bucky asks with a raised brow.

You feel your cheeks heat. “Yes, but that nickname is reserved for my two favorite men.”

He blushes and shakes his head. “Let me get our bags.”

“No, Ivan will get them. He works for Daddy. We can board. He’ll bring them up.”

Bucky tsks and picks up your bags anyway, carrying them up the stairs to the jet. You shake your head and smile, turned on by his stubbornness and old school mentality. As soon as you’re in the plane you see Bucky’s body stiffen in anxiety.

You put a hand on his arm. “You okay, James?”

“Uh, yeah… I uh, I’m fine,” he says unconvincingly. “Bags go where?”

You point to a lockered area near the cockpit and he stores them slowly. You notice his hands shaking slightly as he walks back to you and sits down in the cream leather chairs next to yours.

“I’m right here,” you assure him. “Everything is going to be fine. Lyle is an amazing pilot. He’s worked for our family since I was a little girl. He’s flown me all over the world.” You take Bucky’s right hand in yours and rub reassuring circles into his palm. He looks at you softly, and you can see the love he has for you in his eyes. His head rests on your shoulder gently, and you rest your cheek upon his thick, dark hair. You spot Ivan walking toward you and smile.

“No bags today, Miss?” He inquires politely.

You shake your head and nudge Bucky. “This one took care of them.”

Ivan smiles at you. He’s seen you with your fair share of boyfriends, flings, and even a one-nighter during Spring Break back in college, but he can sense that there’s something different about Bucky, too. It’s no wonder you’ve invited him to meet your folks. It was a privilege very few had experienced before.

“Can I get either of you anything - a drink, perhaps?” Ivan offers.

“A whiskey neat for the gentleman, please,” you request, “and I’d love a gin & tonic. Thank you, Ivan.”

Ivan nods and scurries to the back of the plane to prepare your beverages.

“You’ve got a pretty fancy life, doll,” Bucky whispers. “Not sure what you’re doing with me. I can’t give you a private jet, honey.”

“You don’t have to give me a private jet, James. I already have one,” you tease with a kiss to his forehead. “I love you. That’s why I’m with you.”

“I love you, too,” he says softly.

Lyle’s familiar voice comes over the intercom and announces that you’ll be taking off in the next ten minutes. Bucky shifts in his seat anxiously.

“I know this is your first time in an airplane in a long, long time, babe,” you say quietly, turning his face with your hand softly to look at you. “I’m going to be right here the whole time. I won’t leave your side. I promise.” He nods and smiles weakly, still clearly a bundle of nerves. Ivan returns with your drinks at that moment, and Bucky gladly accepts his, thanking Ivan before taking a sip. You take a drink of your gin and tonic and hum in contentment.

“It’s already helping,” Bucky says, holding up his glass.

“Good,” you smile. Lyle starts to taxi the small plane around the runway. You put your hand on Bucky’s leg gently to ground him and start talking, trying to distract him. “You know, Daddy is really excited to meet you. When I told him I was seeing a Congressman, I think he swallowed a golf ball.”

Bucky’s brow furrows, “Seeing? Is that what you call this?” He gestures between the two of you.

“Dating, seeing… you know what I mean,” you shrug.

“Dating, hmm,” he rubs his chin assessingly. “I don’t like that. It sounds too casual.”

“Too casual?” You inquire, tilting your body in your seat toward him and taking another sip of your drink.

“Too damn casual to be meeting your parents,” he chides, taking a sip of his drink now, mimicking you.

“Well then, what would you call us?” You ask sweetly, rubbing his thigh. Bucky smirks and considers your question. The plane speeds up, starting to make its final drive down the runway for takeoff. The sudden lurch forward sends a bit of Bucky’s whiskey into his lap.

“Shit,” he huffs, sitting up straighter and looking down at his dress pants.

“Crap,” you mutter, looking around. “Once we’re in the air I’ll help you clean it up.”

He purses his lips and nods. “I don’t want to look like a slob when I meet your folks,” he admits.

“You won’t, babe. They’re going to love you. Gramps might be there, too. I’m sure you two can swap war stories,” you tease. He rolls his eyes at your joke. You both lean back into the plush seats as the plane ascends and look out the window. Soon enough you’re flying high and on your way down to your parent’s place. Lyle announces that it’s safe to move about the cabin over the intercom. You immediately stand up and offer Bucky your hand. “Let’s go take care of your pants,” you say. He takes your hand and stands up, following you to a big bathroom by any standards, but certainly large for an airplane.

“What exactly does your father do for work again?” He asks, taking in the luxury amenities.

“He dabbles in a little bit of everything,” you shrug, taking a towel from the tray by the sink and wetting it. “You’re going to have to take your pants off, babe,” you giggle.

“Right,” he mumbles, undoing his belt and removing his pants. He stands there sheepishly in his boxers and hands you the pants.

You lean over the sink, running a bit of water over the fabric and working at the whiskey stain. You peer into the mirror in front of the sink and see Bucky eyeing you hungrily from behind.

“Do you like what you see, James?” You tease as you work at the stain. He chuckles and takes a step toward you, running his hand up your dress between your thighs. His eyes meet yours in shock as he discovers your lack of underwear. You bite your lip teasingly, and he traces your center line slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. You inhale sharply as he dips a finger into your core.

You turn around to face him, his hand falling away from you, and you kneel in front of him. “Looks like the whiskey got on your boxers too. Should I take care of it?” You eye the fabric straining against his growing erection.

“Not until you tell me you’re mine,” he groans, fingers intertwining in your hair to pull your head up so he can see you.

“I’m yours, James. You know that,” you say sweetly, running your hands on the waistband of his boxers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby doll. But stop telling people you’re ‘seeing’ me or that we’re dating. Such fragile, throwaway terms. You tell them you’re my girl. Only mine. You got it?”

“Yes… sir,” you murmur, pulling his pretty cock out of his boxers. You press the tip to your closed lips and run it over them softly before opening up and taking him ever so slowly. A patch of turbulence hits and throws your body forward, making you gag on his length.

“OH FUCK!” Bucky loudly moans, clearly not expecting that. “Don’t stop,” he begs. You blush, certain that Ivan heard Bucky’s exclamation from the cabin. Bucky backs himself up against the bathroom wall as you go to work on him with your mouth. His pants are left to air-dry on the counter by the sink, forgotten. He’s whining, precum sneaking out onto your tongue. You rake your fingernails over his muscular thighs, giving him goosebumps.

“That’s my girl,” he huffs out, looking down at you. “Just like that, baby.”

You keep your method and rhythm the same, but give some special attention to his balls. He sputters, about to say something, but can’t quite find the words. He grips your head, guiding you just how he likes it.

“You’re going to make me ask your father for your hand in goddamn marriage if you keep this up, baby doll.”

You laugh around his length and his thighs tense as he spills into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It happened so fast.” He pulls himself away from your mouth.

You swallow slowly, and wipe the edges of your mouth, looking up at him. “Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, and that little piece of gratitude makes his knees buckle.

“I just did that, and you’re saying thank you?” He helps you up, looking at you incredulously.

You smile and nod before looking in the mirror, checking your lipstick. It really was non-transfer like the packaging advertised. “You’re yummy,” you whisper with a shrug, examining his pants and offering them to him. He slips his boxers and pants back on reluctantly.

“I really want you right now,” he whispers, hugging you from behind.

“I know,” you murmur, “but we’ll be landing in about 30 minutes. We have our own private beach with the villa. I really want you to fuck me in the sand.”

“Oh my God,” he utters. “You’re in for it.”

You laugh and open the bathroom door. “Let’s go sit back down. We’ll be there soon.”

The next half hour passes quickly and the landing is thankfully smooth. You look out the window to see your parents waving from the hangar. You wave back.

“Ah, I haven’t seen them in a while. I can’t wait to give my mom a hug and a kiss,” you say softly.

Bucky huffs quietly, “You gonna kiss your mother with that mouth?”

You blush and shake your head. “Maybe not.”

Bucky grabs your bags from the locker and waits for Ivan to put the stairs down. You both thank Lyle for the flight as he exits the cockpit. Bucky gestures for you to descend the stairs first. Your parents walk out to meet you both.

“Mom, Daddy, this is James Barnes,” you say, putting your hand on his chest. “He’s my… b-,” you stop yourself. “He’s the one.”

Your mom steps forward first and envelopes you both in a tight hug smelling of Chanel No. 5. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you in person, Congressman Barnes. I hope you had a nice flight.”

Bucky nods gratefully. “It was nice and easy. Thank you both again for the accommodations.” Bucky extends his hand to your father and shakes his firmly.

“Good to meet you, sir. Your daughter is something else,” he says with a chuckle. “She keeps me on my toes.” You all start walking to the two large black SUVs near the hangar to take you to their beach estate.

“I’m sure she does,” your father replies. You walk a few steps ahead with your mom, but can still hear Bucky and your father behind you. Your dad claps him on the back as you reach your vehicle and they break for theirs. “Your fly’s down, son. See you kids at the house. I’m looking forward to a long weekend with y'all.”

taglist: @ruexj283 @buckybarnes82

[nosyp]

Don't you miss me babe?

Warning = stalking, controlling behaviour, toxic relationships, toxic michael kaiser, manipulation

Pairing = Michael Kaiser x reader

Summary = Michael Kaiser begging for you to come back but you aren't having none of it.

Word count = 3.8k

A/N = I kinda hate this, maybe I'll rewrite in the future

The hum of the plane engine filled the cabin, a constant, soothing rhythm that masked the restless whispers of passengers and the occasional clatter of the flight attendants’ carts. You leaned your head against the cool window, eyes tracing the endless expanse of clouds below, their fluffy edges glowing softly in the sunlight.

The world seemed so small from far away up here. You clutched the boarding pass in your lap, the crinkled paper a tangible reminder of where you were headed… and what you’d left behind.

A voice crackled over the intercom, the pilot announcing the estimated arrival time, but the words barely registered. Your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moments that had brought you to this seat at 30,000 feet in the air.

The stranger beside you shifted, snapping the book shut in the process. "Long flight, huh?" he said, their tone light.

You still stared out of the window, surprised by the interruption and too scared to meet their eyes. The voice sounded so familiar, that scared you. There was no way right?

“Yeah," you murmured, unsure whether to continue the conversation or retreat back into your own thoughts.

“Why’re you flying?” he asks, looking at the clutched boarding pass in your lap.

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. Shit. It was your ex, Michael Kaiser. 

Your breath caught in your throat, your stomach twisted and turned inside your stomach. Of all the people in the world, why him? You’d worked so hard to leave Michael Kaiser in the past, but here he was, seated right beside you in the plane.

“Kaiser,” you bit out, your tone laced with venom.

His smirk widened at the sound of his name. “The one and only,” he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat as if he hadn’t noticed that you were staring daggers at him. “Fancy seeing you here. Guess it’s fate, huh?”

“Fate?” You scoffed, shifting away from him as much as the cramped airplane seat would allow. “More like a sick joke.”

He chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves. “Still so feisty. I missed that about you.”

Your fingers tightened around the boarding pass in your lap. “What part of I never want to see you again didn’t you understand?”

Kaiser leaned closer, his cologne annoyingly familiar. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. We had something special.”

“Special?” You turned to him, eyebrows raised. “If by special, you mean you constantly acted like the world revolved around you and couldn’t take no for an answer, then yeah, it was real special.”

His confident grin faltered for a split second before he recovered, brushing off your words like they were nothing. “You’re just angry because you know I’m right. Deep down, you still–”

“Don’t,” you interrupted sharply, your voice low and firm. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

For a moment, silence settled between you, giving you the temporary moment of peace you needed. Kaiser opened his mouth, probably to deliver another infuriating line, but you held up a hand.

“I’m not doing this, Kaiser. Not here, not now, not ever. So save your breath and just go.”

He stared at you, his smirk slipping into something more subdued, a softer smile, but you refused to let your guard down. The tension between you and Kaiser was so intense it almost felt real. He leaned closer again, his face now inches from yours, and this time, the smirk was gone, a dark smile now present on his face.

“I don’t think you understand, do you?” His voice low, almost a whisper, but still somehow able to send shivers up your spine. “You think you’re moving on, but I know you’re not. Not really.”

You stiffened, resisting the urge to shove him away. “You don’t get it, Kaiser,” you spat, your teeth gritting. “I hate you. I never want to see you again, I never want to talk to you again. So what the fuck are you doing here?”

He didn’t move, his presence suffocating. “Oh come on… just calm down. You can say that all you want, but I know you. You can’t just erase me from your life. We were good together and… I was the only one who could truly understand you.”

Your pulse quickened. He was crossing every line, and still, you couldn’t bring yourself to back down. He was right. No matter how much you hated to admit it, there was always that nagging feeling, that memory of the way he’d manipulated everything around you. He knew exactly what buttons to push and how to push it.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you managed to say, weakly.

Kaiser leaned in even closer, his breath brushing your ear. “You might think you’re over me, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re still looking for me. You need me.”

Your stomach churned. “Shut. Up.” The words were shaky, but you forced them out. “You have no right to talk to me like that. Not after everything.”

He chuckled softly, that familiar, infuriating laugh that always made your skin crawl. “What’s wrong, babe? You’re still mad about how I left? You’re still pissed off about everything? Do you think you’re the only one who’s suffered?”

The sudden rush of emotions hit you like a truck, all the feelings of anger, disgust, and hurt all blending together in a raw, overwhelming mix. “You’re unbelievable. I hope you know that.”

His eyes gleamed with that sharp, calculating look you remembered too well. “Maybe. But I know exactly how this ends.” He slid his hand closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your wrist, the touch making you recoil.

“No,” you hissed, shoving his hand away, a hot surge of adrenaline rushing through you. “You have no idea how this ends, because it ends now. I don’t owe you anything. Not an explanation, not closure, nothing. You lost that long ago.”

For a moment, Kaiser’s smirk faltered, finally. He was visibly frustrated from the words that you decided to spew out. “You’ll come around. You always do.” His tone was almost... patronizing. Like he was speaking to a child.

You stared at him, trembling with the effort to keep your anger in check. “You’re insane if you think I’ll ever forgive you.”

His eyes never left yours, unwavering. “It’s not about forgiveness, babe. It’s about me getting what I want.”

The words hit you harder than any of his previous ones, and a cold dread settled in your chest. He wasn’t backing down, not this time. He was going to make you believe that you owed him something. He was going to make you need him again.

And for the first time, you wondered if he really would win.

“Don’t touch me,” you warned, your voice shaking despite the rage bubbling inside.

His smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened. “You know, you really don’t know how much you still care. But don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”

The way he said it disgusted you. It wasn’t a plea or even an attempt to reason with you. It was a command, words that were supposed to manipulate you into thinking you’d need him. He never understood the word no. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“You really think you can book a seat next to me and just start talking to me as if everything’s fine?” You bit out, your voice sharper now, holding onto your anger like a weapon. “Like you didn’t tear me apart?”

Kaiser tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with that damnable amusement. “Tear you apart?” He laughed, a low sound that made your skin crawl. “If anything, you tore yourself apart. I just showed you who you really were. All those walls you put up? I broke them down. You didn’t know who you were before me.”

Every word hit like a slap. The guilt, the self-doubt that had been buried under the layers of anger and resentment you’d carefully built after the breakup, started to bubble to the surface. He knew exactly how to chip away at you, to make you question everything.

“I was fine before you,” you snapped, forcing your emotions to stay in check, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. “I was better before you. And you know what? I don’t need you to remind me of anything.”

His expression shifted slightly, the smirk faltering for a moment before it returned, darker now, colder. He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re wrong. You need me more than you’ll ever admit. And I’m not going anywhere, babe. You’re mine.”

That last word settled over you like a shadow, its weight sinking into your chest. There was no mistaking it now. He wasn’t just trying to get back with you—he was trying to reclaim you, to possess you again. The same twisted control he’d held over you before was there, lurking in every word he spoke.

“No,” you managed, barely a whisper, but firm enough to choke back the crushing weight of his presence. “You lost your chance. You can’t own me anymore, Kaiser.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes narrowing, observing every detail of you. Then, as if he’d come to some conclusion, his lips curled into a sinister smile.

“You’ll see. You’ll come crawling back. They all do eventually.” His tone was so confident it made you want to scream, to slap that smug look off his face. But you kept still, trying to hold onto whatever piece of sanity you had.

But as the seconds stretched on and turned into minutes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he could be right.

And that thought… oh that thought… it was far more terrifying than anything you could ever imagine.

Kaiser’s smirk stayed on his face. The air around you started to feel suffocating now. Every word he spoke was like a jagged blade carving through your defenses, and despite every instinct telling you to fight, you felt a momentary crack in your resolve.

“You really think you can move on?” he continued, his voice calm but edged with something darker. “You think you can just forget everything we were? All the things we shared? All the things I gave you?”

The words sliced through you, and for a split second, a memory flashed. You’d suddenly remember the feeling of his touch, his words, the moments where he did make you feel like you were everything. And then, in the next moment, everything could change. Those sweet memories turning into something bitter.

“No,” you spat. “I’m not the same person anymore, and you’re not the same either. In fact, you’ve probably gotten worse. You were always the selfish one, always looking out for yourself. You can’t just come back into my life and pretend things are different.”

His eyes glinted with something that looked almost like amusement. “Selfish?” he repeated, his voice dangerously soft. “Maybe. But you’re no saint either. You’re a mess, and deep down, you know that. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

Your heart pounded harder, anger flashing through your veins. “Stop trying to manipulate me!” you hissed, your fist tightening on the armrest. “This is exactly what you did before. You don’t care about me… you care about winning. About controlling me. About making me need you again. I bet it makes your ego thrive huh?”

Kaiser leaned back in his seat, as if satisfied by the effect his words were having on you. “So what if I do?” he drawled, his voice lazy. “I’ve always had control over you, and I know you hate admitting it. But every time I’ve walked away from you, you’ve always come crawling back. You always do.” 

All of a sudden, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Just like I said. You’ll come to me when you’re ready. When you realize no one will ever love you the way I did.”

Your stomach churned, the darkness of his words wrapping around you and squeezing you. But even with the lump rising in your throat, something in you refused to give up. You weren’t the same person anymore, not the one who’d been caught in his grip.

“Not this time,” you managed to say, voice trembling but defiant. “You don’t control me. You never did.”

Kaiser chuckled again, but this time it was devoid of warmth. Icy. Like he was savoring something, like he knew you’d eventually break. He slid his gaze over to you, leaning forward again, too close for comfort. His breath ghosted over your ear as he spoke, low and chilling.

“I never needed to control you, babe,” he whispered, voice thick with unspoken threats. “Because you were always mine to break. And that’s the thing… no matter how hard you try, how many times you escape… I will always find a way.” 

His fingers grazed your wrist once again, with more force this time, gripping your skin with a cruel sort of finality. “You don’t get to walk away from me. Not again.”

The sound of the plane’s engines seemed to fade into the background, like the world was narrowing down to just the two of you. 

You fought back the tears about to burst from your eyes, clenching your jaw until it hurt. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, not again. This time, you wouldn’t let him win.

“You’re wrong,” you said through clenched teeth. “I’m done.”

Kaiser didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We both know you’re lying,” he murmured. “And when you finally admit the truth, when you realize that you still… need me, you’ll come running. And I’ll be right here, waiting. Because I always will be.”

You could feel his hot breath on your skin, the pressure of his presence pushing in on you from all sides. His hold on you wasn’t physical, not just yet. But emotionally? Mentally? He was already in control, and the thought sent an icy shiver down your spine.

But as the plane hummed on, you took a shaky breath and refused to let him see how deeply he was getting under your skin.

This wasn’t over. And it never would be, not until you stopped letting him invade every part of you.

For the rest of the flight, Kaiser didn’t try to disturb you, luckily. Though, his presence still hovered in the corner of your mind, like a shadow you couldn’t escape, but he still kept his distance. Maybe it was all a game to him, or perhaps he realized that pushing you further would only make things more complicated. Either way, you were thankful for the quiet, for the ability to breathe without his voice invading every thought.

You tried to focus on something, anything, to distract yourself. The seatbelt sign flickered on and off occasionally as the plane made its way through the clouds, and you found yourself staring at the small plastic tray in front of you, as though it held the answers to all your questions.

But the longer the silence stretched between you, the more you realized how fragile it all was. What if he didn’t stop? What if this wasn’t just some twisted game to him? What if Kaiser really could find a way back into your life, despite everything you’d worked to leave behind?

The more you thought about it, the more anxious you became. His words echoed in your mind.

“You’ll come crawling back.”

“They all do eventually.”

“I’ll remind you.” 

“You’re mine.”

Each sentence was a poison, spreading through your thoughts, and you could almost feel yourself slipping. But you clenched your fists, dug your nails into your palms, and reminded yourself that no, you’re not going back. Ever.

You glanced out the window, the endless sea of clouds below you offering some semblance of calm. The gentle sway of the plane became a lullaby, coaxing your thoughts into a haze. But even in that moment of peace, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of Kaiser’s words.

Suddenly, a soft thud broke the silence. You turned your head to find Kaiser leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, seemingly relaxed. His arms were crossed over his chest, but there was something about the way he sat made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It was like he was waiting for something, watching you out of the corner of his eye, studying your every movement. He wasn’t bothering you, but his presence was still suffocating, like a constant reminder that he was never too far away.

You forced yourself to look away, focusing back on the soft hum of the engines, trying to keep your mind from spiraling. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to engage with him, because you certainly didn’t. It was more that you knew that if you let him in again, even just a little, you might never get out.

The flight seemed to stretch on endlessly. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and the closer you got to your destination, the more you felt that sense of oncoming doom closing in on you. You had no idea what was going to happen once you both landed. Was this just another round of his twisted game, or would he try to force himself back into your life for good?

The intercom crackled once again, and the pilot’s voice filled the cabin, announcing the final descent. You braced yourself, hands gripping the armrest as you stared straight ahead, trying to steady your breath. You couldn’t shake the feeling that once this flight was over, you would have to face him, face the reality of everything he had dragged you through, and decide if you were really strong enough to walk away for good.

But for now, you have to survive the next few minutes. The next few moments of silent tension, of being stuck in this small metal tube with someone who knew exactly how to hurt you.

And for now, you held onto one truth. That one small, defiant thought: You won’t let him win. Not again.

As the plane descended, the sense of tension looming above you and Kaiser worsened. The hum of the engines was no longer a soothing background; now, it felt oppressive, like it made the sound of his words louder. You could feel his presence near you.

Just when you thought you could breathe again, the silence was broken by the soft sound of him shifting in his seat. He moved, and you immediately tensed, instinctively turning your body toward the aisle, trying to put a physical distance between the two of you. But it was too late.

Without warning, Kaiser slid closer to you, settling into the seat beside you as if he had every right to. His arm brushed against yours, and your body went stiff at the contact. His proximity was unbearable, but you didn’t dare react. Not yet. You were caught in a limbo of wanting to flee and wanting to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm.

He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching, studying. The air was thick with unspoken words, the weight of his gaze on your skin like a brand. You tried to focus on the window, hoping the world outside could somehow offer you escape, but he was relentless.

“Comfortable?” His voice was low, smooth.

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to snap back. Instead, you forced yourself to stay still, to ignore the adrenaline thrumming through your veins. “I’m fine,” you muttered, the words clipped.

“Sure you are,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief, though he was oddly calm. “You’ve been quiet since I sat down. Very unlike you.”

The arrogance in his voice made your blood boil, but you kept your hands clenched in your lap, trying to keep your temper in check. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you react.

Kaiser let out a soft chuckle, the sound sliding under your skin like a snake, crawling its way into your thoughts. “You’re still angry,” he observed, eyes flicking over you in a way that made you want to crawl out of your own skin. “I can tell.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to give him an inch. The memory of everything he had done to you. You hated him. Hated him so much you could feel your chest tightening with it.

“I’m not angry,” you said through gritted teeth, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’m just… so tired of you.”

His smile didn’t falter, but there was something darker behind his eyes now. “You’ve said that before,” he murmured, leaning just a little closer. “And yet, here you are. With me.”

The distance between you seemed to close even more, and you felt the edges of your control slipping, like sand through your fingers. He was right. You were here. You were stuck on this flight, trapped beside him for the last stretch of the journey. You were stuck in this hell of your own making.

But then, something in you snapped. You couldn’t just let him keep twisting the knife, making you feel like you were the one at fault. You had fought so hard to get away from him, and now he was just waltzing back in, expecting you to fall back in line.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, suddenly turning toward him, voice sharp and low. “Don’t ever think you have the right to get close to me again.”

His smirk widened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. “I don’t need your permission to be close to you, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with venomous sweetness. “I’ve always been close to you. And I always will be.”

Your heart slammed in your chest, the fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. He was pushing, testing you, seeing how far he could take this before you caved. 

The plane began to shake slightly as it descended further, but Kaiser didn’t budge. He stayed right beside you, close enough for you to feel his body heat, hear his breath. His presence was suffocating, invasive, but you forced yourself to stay calm, even if your heart was pounding in your throat.

You focused on your breath, your pulse, the sound of the plane’s descent, anything but him. You weren’t going to let him control this moment. Not now, not ever again.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Open Skies [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's first time flying the Quinjet is a memorable one. Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Silly things. Mutual pining. Oral (M). (w/c 2.2k)

Tony dangled the key between his thumb and forefinger. The fob swung in front of Loki’s smirking face. “To Virginia, and back again,” Tony said. He was not in the mood for games. Loki’s eyebrows shot up. He pressed his fingers to his chest in mock-hurt before extending the cup of his palm out, fingers unfolding with a graceful flourish. “I need to learn, Stark..." he postured innocently. “The simulations only go so far. You know that.”

“And you’ll behave?” Loki rolled his eyes. “What egregious sin could I possibly commit with your garish vessel while under the watchful eye of our trustworthy Agent here?” he said, flicking a finger towards you. “Is that not why she has been chosen for this farce? To keep me in line? To make sure I don’t damage this metal substitute for masculinity?” Tony’s eyes darted in an aborted eye-roll. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, observing Loki with suspicion. “It should only take you twenty minutes- if that,” he said, tossing the fob in the air. The god caught it. Loki let you walk ahead up the ramp. The weight of his stare clung to your ass like wet paint as you made your way to the front of the craft and slid into the passenger seat. He paused, giving both headrests a squeeze as he observed the screens. You watched his profile stiffen, a swallow working his neck. For all his breezy pomposity, he was nervous. “Just like the simulator,” you said, “you’ll be fine.” Loki's face remained unchanged by your re-assurance. He cleared his throat, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater; the one with the Avengers logo that he swore the first time he saw it that he would never wear.

He manoeuvred himself into the driver’s seat. “Is he watching?” he asked quietly. You pressed the screen, making the rear camera pop up. Tony stood below the under-hang of the landing area, arms folded. “Right..." Loki said, lips pursing.

He ran his palms down the tight chinos creased to his thighs. One long finger tentatively pressed against the central screen.

In a matter of seconds, the Quinjet’s engines fired to life. Loki flinched. His fingers flexed before their length curled around the lever sitting between you. He pushed it into elevate. "Thirty-five-thousand feet..." Loki murmured to himself, pressing a series of buttons on the screen.

He reached up, pressing an intercom above his head.

"This is Loki Laufeyson, Avengers Unit, Stark Tower," he said, gazing out the huge window at the skyscrapers.

His voice made goose-bumps ripple on your skin. It massaged over the syllables like crude oil over glass, thick and utterly erotic in its uniform sincerity. “Lifting off - flightpath expected from New York City to above Richmond, Virginia. No target, no landing. Training exercise, thirty-five thousand feet. Copy?”

He released the button. Static hummed. Loki’s fingers readjusted around the lever. “Copy, Mr Laufeyson." the radio crackled. "Clear for take-off. Route mapped. Any changes, let us know.”

Loki let out a small, satisfied sigh. He shot you a weak smile. “Good?” he asked. You nodded. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, delicate strands falling around his face. It framed his cheekbones perfectly. “Try not to be too aroused by my piloting-skills, Agent,” Loki goaded, turning his attention to the thrusters. “I have been practising very hard to make it seem effortless.” He pressed several more buttons without a pause.

You and Loki had hooked up for several weeks just before his most recent mission. But whether it was clarity during the absence, or simply lack of interest; when he had come back no moves were made on either side. On your part, it was simple terror. Being with Loki in that way was unbelievable the first time that it had happened, never mind the seventh, eighth, ninth. Part of you didn’t want to push your luck. It had crossed your mind that he had actually forgotten. And if that was true, then you didn’t want to know.

The force of the ascent pushed you back into your seat, facing forwards. Out the corner of your eye you saw a grin stretch over the god’s face as the New York skyline became mere dots below. He yanked the lever a few more times into position, setting it in cruise. The beep of buttons and the hum of the engines were the only sounds. Ahead, there was nothing but open skies. “Well done, I’m very impressed,” you said with a smile, shifting to face him. The seatbelt dug into your shoulder. Without realising, you had set a hand to rest on his thigh. The two of you looked at it, eyes rising to meet. One of Loki’s brows cocked. “Agent?” he growled. “Are you trying to seduce the captain?”

You were about to deny it. But he was the god of lies, after all. In which case there was no getting around it. And even if there was – did you want to? “Yes.” you said. Loki barked a small laugh of disbelief, turning his eyes back to the wide windows. “It will take more than that, Agent.” he said, offering a small nod to the hand resting mid-way up his thigh. “Especially after giving me the cold-shoulder on my return.” Your stomach dropped. “I did no such thing-” you started, but Loki had begun to tut. It’s slow methodical click ticked over the air between you. His eyes never left the blue sky out the front of the Quinjet. “On the contrary. On my return, I came to your rooms. I left a note, and quite a suggestive one at that. I made myself quite vulnerable, actually.” You frowned. “Loki, I moved rooms like three weeks ago.” Loki pressed a finger to his forehead. “Who’s in your old one?” “Scott.” “Ah,” Loki said, grimacing. “I was wondering why he had been particularly familiar of late.” The god shot you a sheepish smile. “I may have gone into great detail about oral sex in my correspondence.” “Giving or Receiving?” “Receiving.” The two of your burst into raucous laughter.

Loki took his hands from the steering wheel, wiping a tear of mirth. “In defence of my uncouth written request, you do give the most glorious blowjobs,” he muttered, offering a tilt of his head. “And it was a very long mission. I was in desperate need of attention.” “Did you ever get it?” “No. Although in hindsight, Lang did attempt to ease my disposition.”

You and Loki exchanged a restrained smirk before bursting into laughter again. “I feel terrible,” you said, starting to feel giddy. “I thought you weren’t into me anymore, so I just…” “Gave up without a fight?” Loki said, pressing a button and shifting the stick. “Understandable. I am rather intimidating.”

Your hand began to dance up his thigh, following the rise of his insane quad muscle. You squeezed. The fingers slid inward, brushing the growing bulge in his crotch. Loki shifted in his seat, chinos rustling. “Agent…” he warned. But his eyes sparkled.

The god’s legs widened in the generous seat. Creases ran thick across his spread thighs, the outline of his cock stark against the light fabric. It stretched up to his hip by the side of the zipper. You bit your lip as he thrust gently into your cupped hand. “We shouldn’t…” you said, tracing the length of his cock with one light finger. “No,” Loki breathed. “But we will.” The click of your seatbelt and the resulting flurry of your fingers at his buttons was instant. Loki raised one arm to let you work, lowering the tight zipper and setting his cock free with a bounce into your waiting hand. “Fuck,” he choked through ragged breaths, “Agent you don’t have to-” You looked up at him, head pressed back against the rest and the veins in his throat tightening. He had that stoic, regal set upon his features, cheekbones hard and unwavering, mouth closed as he stared at your with hungry eyes. The only thing that gave him away was the sound of small puffs of air flaring in rapid succession from his nostrils. Without looking, you could tell his knuckles were white on the wheel. One of his forearms rested on the nape of your neck.

“If you don’t think I want to suck your cock, Laufeyson,” you whispered, pausing to place a kiss on the leaking tip, “then you’re even crazier than I thought.” Loki inhaled sharply as you swallowed him. The breath caught in his throat, forcing its way back through a series of stuttering breaks that made desire thrash deep in your cunt. Fingers wrapped around the base of him, you worked slowly back and forth until his manhood was slippery with spit. Your face lowered on to the bottom of Loki’s sweatshirt with every dip of your head. Sucking wet and hot as the vein that ran the length of his cock throbbed against your tongue. There it was, that sweet saltiness pearling at the cracked creases of your lips. God, how you’d missed that. The taste of him. There was nothing like it.

Loki’s placid moans filled the cockpit. It was polite, in a way. Gentlemanly, while his slender fingers grasped delicately against your hair. You lingered at the crown, running your tongue against the sensitive underside.

Loki jolted in his seat. The Quinjet took a dive, and you froze - cushioning his glory with your tongue as the god corrected the flightpath. He chuckled, hissing as you tightened the grip of the fingers around his root and began to pump in time with your mouth. “We’ve reached-uh...g-gods, Richmond,” he stammered. His fingers grasped at your hair, knees beginning to tremble. “I’m carrying out a soft turn, bringing us one hundred and sixty degrees before returning to the original..f..f-fuckk-flightpath.” Humming approval through a mouthful of his cock, you lost yourself in the warm musk of his public hair. The metal zipper caught against your chin, grazing with every deep dive of the god into your throat. But you didn’t care. Loki’s gentle whines were all you could hear over the engines, panting praises and murmurs of lustful promises that you would hold him to when this thing landed. If it landed.

“Gods-” Loki choked, punctuated with a thump as his skull fell against the headrest. "How can you do this to me, Agent?” he gasped, rubbing your back as you quickened the pace. “You’re the best…” he moaned, hips rising to meet the bob of your jaw, “you’re the b-best I’ve ever had..I- uhh...”

The god’s fingertips dragged down your back, fist clenching and unfurling. He let out a primal grumble. “I’m going to cum, darling-” he growled. “Has anything c-changed?” You shook your head, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth and pooling in a wet patch on his chinos. Swallowing all the spit you could, you pressed your lips tighter around his girth, sucking furiously. Loki flinched with pleasure; and although you couldn’t see him, you knew his eyes were rolling back. You’d bet a few more of those slutty little curls had come loose too. Loki’s bucks were quicker now. He was trying to be restrained, but still his hips shuddered against the seat trying not to fuck your mouth with all his might. The Quinjet thrashed to the side, immediately correcting.

The god’s breaths were heavy, unintelligible filth falling from his lips and slithering into your ear as you worked him. "Good girl," he gasped, palm flying to the window my his side, "oh, f-fuck yes...good girl-vakker... just like, u-uh-" His palm slid down the window with an obscene squeak.

With a curse-littered groan, both of his arms went flying up behind the headrest. He pulled it forwards, the force of his abdomen’s clench pressing against your forehead. Loki’s hot cum hit the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the sweet tang you craved. It kept coming, spreading into every pocket of space not occupied by his meat. His groans of pleasure filled the cockpit while you swallowed - pretty little moans snaking from his throat as he rode higher than the clouds.

Your lips left the tip of his flushed member with a slurp. Loki looked at you, dazed and slut-drunk. His seed glistened at the corners of your mouth as you squeezed his cock from the base a final time. A thick ream of cum blossomed at the opening. With one finger, you scooped it off, placing it carefully on the tip of your tongue.

“How I’ve missed you,” Loki slurred before his mouth was on yours.

You could feel his tongue search your own, tasting himself on each caress, swallowing the mess that you had made of him. Breaking apart, you took a moment to appreciate just how fucked-out Loki looked. The god’s cheeks were flushed, his lips raw and pink from rough kisses; his tied-up hair was askew, one side falling down in inky tendrils across his shoulder. The sweatshirt was rumpled, and there was a spreading wet patch on those lovely cream chinos. “How long do we have?” you asked, realising that you probably didn’t look much better. Loki’s eyes flickered to the screen. “Three minutes.” he said, disappointed. As Loki nailed a perfect landing, you made a final check of yourself in the window’s reflection. His knuckles trailed gently down your bicep. “I’ll see you inside?” he asked quietly. His pupils were still bottomless pools. “At your rooms,” you smiled, fighting to contain a laugh. “Not Scott’s.” Loki nodded agreement, lips curling. “I really did wait, you know.” he said. “I know.” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. The two of you disembarked and Tony was waiting for the debrief exactly where you'd left him. He seemed happy with everything, by and large. But his arms remained folded. You began to make your way into the Tower. “Laufeyson. A word.” Tony barked. Loki rolled his eyes, subtly gesturing for you to go on ahead. “How’d you like her then? State of the art?” Stark hummed, gesturing to the Quinjet. Loki raised a brow. “It was perfectly fine.” Loki said. “Not ‘the best you’ve ever had’?” Tony slipped his sunglasses down his nose. Loki’s brow furrowed. “Cameras?” “Cameras,” Tony replied, tossing Loki the key-fob. “I’ll delete my evidence if you hop on back and delete your evidence with some of that magic-bleach. Deal?” “Deal.” Loki sighed.

Tags (cont in comments) @lokischambermaid @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @marygoddessofmischief @thevillainswhore @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

[kathlare]

Omgg I love your stories so much!! Would you ever consider having Amelie feature in the new f1 movie for example like Tate McRae’s song!! Also will you be writing the movie premiere of the New York Show!! LOVE YOU

Omg!! Thank you so, so much — this means the world! 😭💕 I absolutely loved the idea, and I’m so excited to say that the chapter from the F1 movie premiere in New York is finally here!! 🎬✨

Thank you for waiting so patiently and for sharing such an amazing idea. I really hope you enjoy it — and as always, if you have more requests, I’m all ears! 💌 LOVE YOU!! 💕🏁

just keep watching

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando travel to New York for the F1 movie premiere, sharing quiet moments and playful banter between the chaos of airports and interviews.

Wordcount: 6.2 k

Warnings: smut

full masterlist // request over here!

June 19th, 2025 - New York City, NY

liked by ameliecrazy, grid_guru, and others

f1: All aboard for #F1TheMovie #F1

@F1Movie

View all 58,372 comments

racequeen_24: pilots on fleek, vibes on point 😎✈️ → turbo_tiff: @racequeen_24 literally the coolest squad on a plane rn

fastlane_fan: team principals be like “where’s my popcorn?” 🍿😂 → pitstop_pete: @fastlane_fan gotta keep the drama on screen, not on the plane lol

grid_guru: nyc premiere bouta be legendary, can’t wait to see the fits and tea ☕👀 → vibecheck_vinny: @grid_guru fashion police ready to report 🚨💅

speedster_sam: hope they have snacks, those F1 nerves gotta be real right now 🍫😅 → trackside_tina: @speedster_sam best believe they packed those emergency snacks, it’s a whole vibe

speedqueen45: squad goals on fleek 😍✈️ → f1nerd123: @speedqueen45 facts, this is the ultimate flex

madsauce: lol does anyone else lowkey wanna be a driver just for the plane rides? ✈️🔥 → gridgirlxoxo: @madsauce same, travel goals AF

pitstopprincess: who else is praying for a cameo in the movie?? 🙋‍♀️🎬

ameliecrazy: can’t wait to see lanmelie walking the red carpet 👀💖 → norisimp: @ameliecrazy they’re gonna break the internet again

f1trash: y’all worried about the movie or just here for the drama on the plane? 🤡

racequeen33: F1 squad looking 🔥 AF on that plane → speedjunkie99: @racequeen33 mood! can’t wait for the premiere vibes

lanmelove_23: lando lowkey flexing that business class life 🤑 → norrislove_24: @lanmelove_23 only the best for our boyyy

ameliesarmy: and where’s our girl tho? waiting for her cameo on the red carpet 👀 → lanmelie_fanatic: @ameliesarmy she’s gonna slay, no doubt 💅🔥

lanmelie_forever: honestly this trip is just another excuse for lando to stare at amelie all night 😍

-------------

Lando shifted slightly in his business class seat, the hum of the plane steady around him as the credits of the movie rolled across the screen. He hadn’t been watching closely—his eyes flicking occasionally to the window, the clouds, her.

Amelie.

Curled into the blanket beside him, her cheek resting on the little pillow she'd smuggled from her dressing room at the paddock. She was deep asleep, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, one hand loosely holding onto his hoodie like she needed the tether. Her ponytail had loosened slightly during the flight, a few strands curling near her temple. The orange sleep mask she’d originally worn was now tucked in her lap like a forgotten toy. Her red hoodie—stolen from his suitcase, obviously—was too big on her, and he could see the edge of the crop top underneath when she shifted, mumbling something in her sleep that sounded suspiciously like “fuck you, Benny.”

Lando smiled softly.

He didn’t know how she always managed to look like this—serene and chaotic all at once.

The captain’s voice came over the intercom: “Cabin crew, prepare for landing in New York.”

The plane jolted slightly as the landing gear engaged. All around them, people began to stir. The rustling of bags and the quiet stretching of bodies filled the cabin as the plane started its descent.

Lando leaned toward her, brushing the back of his fingers gently against her cheek.

—Ames,— he murmured. —Hey, baby. Wake up. We’re landing.—

She stirred, brow scrunching a little before her eyes fluttered open in confusion.

—Huh...?— she blinked a few times, disoriented, looking around. —Where... wait, are we...?—

—New York,— he said with a soft grin. —You slept through the whole flight.—

Amelie blinked again before a sleepy smile spread across her face. She reached up and cupped his jaw with her hand, pulling him in for a lazy, warm kiss. —Hi.—

—Hi,— Lando whispered against her lips.

Around them, people were moving. Charles was standing to grab his jacket, Toto was already halfway down the aisle, and someone was complaining about their AirPods being stolen. But Lando didn’t care. Not when she looked at him like that.

—You good to stand?— he asked, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

—Mmhmm. Just give me a second. Legs are still dead.—

He chuckled, standing first and reaching for both his and her carry-ons from the overhead bin. He didn't even let her reach for hers.

—Lan, I can carry my...—

—Nope,— he cut in, already slinging both bags over his shoulder. —Let me be the gentleman today. You already stole my hoodie.—

—You gave me that hoodie.—

—Under threat of emotional blackmail.—

She grinned.

They stepped off the plane together, greeted by the usual border control maze. A few airport staff were already waiting to escort the F1 group through the VIP lane, but even then, the lines split once they reached immigration.

—Ugh,— Amelie groaned. —I forgot we have to separate here.—

—You’d think by now they’d just give me an American passport from all the damn time I’ve spent here,— Lando muttered.

Amelie snorted. —You’d be a chaos American. I’m not sure I trust you with that power.—

She squeezed his hand and stepped into the U.S. Citizens line. He gave her a tiny, lopsided smile and moved to the foreigners' side, joining the other drivers and crew in the longer queue.

She was waved forward almost immediately.

The officer behind the desk barely glanced up before taking her passport.

—Purpose of visit?—

—Work.—

He stamped her passport and handed it back.

—Welcome back home.—

The words hit differently than she expected.

Home.

For years, New York had been just that. The place where she lived, worked, built everything. But now? Now it was a place she visited. A memory, a version of herself she’d outgrown but hadn’t fully left behind. And yet, standing there with her suitcase and that ache in her chest, she realized… it still mattered.

She stepped to the side, eyes scanning the crowd until she saw him again—Lando, finally making his way through immigration, dragging both carry-ons and looking thoroughly unimpressed with the wait. She smiled to herself.

A security escort handed them their checked bags as they reunited, pushing a small cart with ease.

—Did you order a car?— Lando asked as they neared the exit.

—Yeah… sort of.—

He glanced at her sideways. —Sort of? What does that mean?—

But before she could answer, a loud squeal echoed through the arrivals terminal.

—MEELS!—

Amelie barely turned before someone crashed into her with full force, nearly toppling her over.

—Shit, Minnie!— Amelie laughed breathlessly as her best friend’s arms squeezed around her in a tight hug.

Lando grinned, watching the scene unfold. —So that’s the ‘sort of.’—

Lando chuckled softly, the weight of the flight and the race weekend momentarily easing as Minnie’s infectious energy filled the space between them.

—Hey, Lan!— Minnie said, pulling back just enough to grin at him. —Still annoying as hell, I see.—

—Only for you, Min.— He winked, then shifted the bags on the cart with a smirk. —You know, I could say the same about you.—

Minnie laughed, rolling her eyes but clearly pleased. —Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m driving you two back to Ames’s place. Thought I’d save you the hassle.—

-------------

liked by ameliecrazy, grid_guru, and others

ameliesvibes: 🚨BREAKING🚨 Amelie just dropped a NYC story and yep, she’s here for the F1 Movie premiere! 💫✨ Get ready for major glam and all the Lanmelie feels on the red carpet! 🎬❤️

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f1_lanmelie: she’s in nyc and my heart is too 💥 → norrisbaby24: @f1_lanmelie the energy of this queen in the city never changes 😍

sunset_simp: nyc just got 10x hotter with ames here 🔥

speedy_simp: bro lando probably practicing his “i’m so cool” face for the premiere 😎 → norrisnuts: @speedy_simp bro it’s permanent at this point, born with it

speed_demon45: ames in nyc and my heart is racing faster than landos car 😩🔥

trackqueen: lando better be there to catch her when she walks that red carpet 🙌💅 → racefan_101: @trackqueen facts, he’s prob like “that’s my girl” lowkey flexing on everyone 😎

melonhead123: no way ames is out here stealing all the spotlight again 👀💫

lanmelieupdates: she’s in NEW YORKKKKKKKK 😭😭😭 premiere date night loading

lanmelie4life: LANDO U BETTER BE READY TO COMBUST SHE’S LOOKING TOO GOOD FOR NY → mclarenwifey: @lanmelie4life he’s 100% gonna trip on the carpet staring at her

gridgirlies: she said ✨main character energy✨ and hopped on a plane → lanfan99: @gridgirlies red carpet gonna turn into HER runway i fear

softforlan: she’s about to make that man forget how to breathe again 😭 → amesnation: @softforlan his sim card is FRIED already

amez4ever: this is NOT gonna be a premiere it’s gonna be a public thirst display → maxmode: @amez4ever i already hear pierre making jokes 😭

lanxamesupdates: if we don’t get a photo of them tonight i will riot → drivergf: @lanxamesupdates not a blurry pap pic, a FULL glam pic or nothing.

sugarf1baby: mother has entered new york 😍

dramainthepaddock: LANDO U BETTER MATCH HER ENERGY TONIGHT → smoothop_norris: @dramainthepaddock he’s showing up with his curls freshly styled i just KNOW it → maxfewmode: @dramainthepaddock this is not an outfit competition but if it was… he’s already losing 😭

lanfan88: am i mentally prepared for a lanmelie red carpet? absolutely not

-------------

Lando was lounging on the edge of the bed, checking his phone when the knock came. The McLaren PR team. Right on time.

He pulled himself to the door, brushing a hand down the creases of his navy sweatpants and dark red Montreal crewneck. When he opened it, camera in hand and sound equipment already humming, he gave a crooked smile and waved them in.

—Hey, come in,— he said, brushing a curl out of his forehead. —And, uh, sorry about the mismatched outfit. Amelie stole the matching hoodie. She’s got it on in the room next door right now. So, I’m the leftover half of the set.—

He shrugged like he didn’t mind (he didn’t), and waved towards the rest of the room where the glam team was already waiting. They clipped a mic to the collar of his shirt as he shuffled out of the room briefly, only to return a moment later in crisp dress pants and a sharp, tailored white shirt. He sank down into the chair, brushing hair out of his eyes as one of the stylists started fixing the waves and another dabbed concealer along the edges of tired skin.

It was routine. Calm. Until the door clicked and she walked in.

Amelie.

A fucking vision.

A striking, deep-red midi dress that molded to every curve, a high neckline and a hint of semi-sheer fabric that gave it an edge of timeless and modern. The length fell just past her knees, making the classic black heels she wore click sharply across the floor. Her hair was pulled into a sleek mid-ponytail, brushing the sharp angles of her jawline, and the makeup was soft and precise, making those big eyes glow.

For a moment, Lando forgot how to breathe.

—Fuuuuck…— he exhaled dramatically, dropping the hair clip he’d been holding. —Are you trying to kill me, Ames? What the hell is this?!—

Amelie stopped mid-step, blinking, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her mouth until she spotted the camera hovering nearby. The shy smile widened into an apologetic one as she waved quickly at the lens.

—Uh… hi,— she said quietly, brushing a hand down the fabric of her dress like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Lando was already out of the chair, brushing away the stylist for a moment, crossing the room in a few long strides. He pulled her closer by the waist and pressed a quick, soft kiss to her lips.

—Are you leaving already?— he asked, brushing a knuckle along the line of her jaw.

Amelie glanced towards the camera and shrugged slightly, brushing hair from her temple. —Yeah. Red carpet with Laura and Hannah. We have the pre-show in like… twenty minutes.—

Lando tilted his head slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from her ear. —Nervous?—

Amelie shrugged again, a shy glance towards the PR team making her voice drop. —A little bit. Just… lot of people tonight, I guess.—

He noticed the way she tightened slightly when she glanced at the camera and then waved a hand sharply towards the PR team. —Right, um… give us a second, okay?—

They didn’t hesitate. They gave him a quick nod and stepped towards the hallway, camera dropping slightly as the door clicked shut, leaving the couple in the quiet common area of their suite.

Lando watched the door shut and immediately sank down beside Amelie, brushing the back of her hand with his fingers until she met his gaze.

—Hey,— he said softly, brushing a thumb across the curve of her palm. —What’s going on in that pretty head? You’re okay?—

Amelie smiled, brushing hair from her forehead, exhaling slowly. —Yeah. I’m okay. Just… it’s different, you know? Being the one doing the interviews tonight, making sure it’s right. It’s like… the first time in ages I’m not the one being asked questions, and that’s making me more nervous than I thought.—

Lando shifted closer, brushing a hand down the side of her arm until it landed securely at her waist. —Ames, you’re a bloody pro. They picked you for this because you’re sharp as fuck, and you have this thing… people just wanna open up when you ask questions. You’re gonna kill it tonight.—

Her smile softened, brushing noses with him for a second. —That means a lot, Lan. Thanks.—

—Of course.— He pressed a slow, deep kiss to her lips, brushing a hand down the line of her spine like he could stamp the moment on both of them. When he pulled back, brushing a kiss to the tip of her nose, his voice was teasing and soft. —And when you’re on that carpet tonight, making every other interviewer wonder why the fuck you’re better than them, I’ll be down the line just hoping you ask me a question. Might save a wink for you, too.—

Amelie giggled, brushing a hand down the fabric of his shirt, brushing imaginary wrinkles from the crisp material. —Yeah? Might have to ask you about that race, Mr. Norris. Or maybe about this shirt that doesn’t match your sweatpants from earlier.—

He winked, brushing a knuckle down her jaw. —If you ask, I’ll tell you everything, baby. Even why I stole your favorite hoodie this morning.—

Amelie smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, brushing herself down as she stood. —Alright. Try not to break the microphone or flirt too much with the PR team while I’m gone, okay?—

Lando grinned, brushing a hand down the sleek line of her dress one last time. —Wouldn’t dream of it, Ames. Go be a star tonight. I’ll be right behind you, trying to get your attention like a total idiot. As usual.—

Amelie waved over her shoulder, grinning as she pulled the door open. —That’s how you got mine the first time, Lan. Might work a second time too.—

The door clicked shut, and Lando sank down in the chair, brushing both hands through his curls, grinning like an idiot as the PR team poked their heads back in.

He shrugged, brushing an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead. —Alright, let’s do this. But someone save me a bloody drink for after, yeah? I’m gonna need it when I have to watch my girl kill it tonight.—

-------------

liked by lanmelie4ever, papayaspotter, and others

f1insidergossip: Amelie Dayman, Laura Winter & Hannah Berner taking over the mic tonight 🎤✨ The trio are set to host the F1 Movie premiere in New York and it’s already serving pure chaos and glam!! 🍸🏁

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speedynorris: Amelie making a red carpet her runway!! 👑 → daymanluvrr: @speedynorris Lando’s jaw on the floor somewhere

f1t4smr: Amelie with a mic is dangerous!! Protect the drivers 😂 → gossipgriddd: @f1t4smr she’s about to ask Lando why he can’t brake properly 💀

lanmelieshipper: why am I expecting Amelie to interview Lando like she doesn’t kiss him every night 😭 → monacomush: @lanmelieshipper ‘and how’s the girlfriend?’ “she’s standing right here” LMAOO

papayaspotter: Amelie in interviewer mode? Lando better be ready 😳 → f1wagsfan: @papayaspotter he’s already rehearsing in the mirror 🤣

lanmelie4ever: Amelie with a mic? Lando’s about to forget how to speak 😂

speedtrapszn: Amelie roasting every driver tonight except Lando… watch. → papayafever: @speedtrapszn she goes ‘Lando can do no wrong’ then grills the rest 😂

f1papwalk: Amelie looking like she’s gonna steal the whole spotlight!! → vroomdayman: @f1papwalk Lando already accepting defeat like “she wins every race” 🧡

papayakissclub: Amelie interviewing Lando tonight… the room will explode from cuteness!!

daymanluvrr: Amelie + a microphone = chaos confirmed 😂 → papayadr3ams: @daymanluvrr Lando in the background like “you’re doing amazing sweetie”

tracksidegoss: Amelie and Laura are about to roast every driver tonight and I’m here for it 🍷 → speedtrapszn: @tracksidegoss Lando gonna try to hide and fail miserably

lanmeliefiles: Amelie interviewing Lando be like “how do u balance being a race car driver and being obsessed with ur girlfriend?” 🥺 → f1t4smr: @lanmeliefiles “well, she doesn’t let me forget” 😭

daymanclub: Amelie making the whole paddock fall in love tonight just like she made Lando fall in love with her 😌

lightsout44: Amelie interviewing Lando tonight = best content we didn’t know we needed 😂 → papayakids: @lightsout44 she’s gonna roast him live and I’m here for it

lanmelie4ever: Amelie with a mic is the biggest flex of the paddock rn 🙌 → tracksidegem: @lanmelie4ever Lando better behave or she’ll expose him 😭

vroomiezz: Amelie + Laura + Hannah = holy trinity of F1 press 👑 → quicklapzz: @vroomiezz the drivers are NOT ready!!

-------------

The premiere was electric — Times Square bathed in lights, screens looping dramatic trailers of the F1 movie, and fans packed tight behind barricades, their cheers and camera flashes a constant soundtrack. Amelie stood alongside Laura Winter at their designated interview spot, the F1 logo gleaming behind them. She took a breath, adjusting her earpiece, smoothing the skirt of her deep red dress — the same one that had made Lando nearly short-circuit earlier. The nerves were there, but excitement crackled stronger.

—Okay, next up… Lando Norris,— Laura murmured beside her, already spotting him weaving through the crowd of team PR, media, and flashing cameras.

Amelie’s heart skipped a beat as Lando approached, dressed sharp as ever — black tailored suit, no tie, crisp white shirt slightly undone at the collar. He had that easy grin, the one that always got her in trouble.

First, he leaned in to kiss Laura on both cheeks — polite, charming. But then his eyes locked on Amelie’s, and the mischief was immediate. His smile turned almost boyish, his gaze lingering a little too long as the cheers from the barricades swelled.

Without hesitation, he stepped closer. His hand found her waist, tugging her in just enough. Before she could react, he dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to her lips — quick, sweet, but full of intent. The crowd lost it — thousands of screams, phones flashing wildly.

Amelie laughed, pulling back, her cheeks flushed. —You’re impossible,— she muttered, amusement shining in her eyes.

Lando just winked, stepping back to his mark between the two women. —Couldn’t help myself,— he said, voice low enough that only they could hear. —You’re way too gorgeous tonight.—

Laura, fighting a grin, gestured to the camera crew that they were live.

—Alright, Lando, thanks for joining us— Laura began, professional despite the obvious energy between him and Amelie. —Big night, big premiere. What’s it like seeing F1 brought to the big screen like this?—

Lando slipped smoothly into media mode, though his eyes kept flicking to Amelie. —It’s surreal, honestly. We see the sport so up close, but seeing it like this — the story, the action, the emotion — it’s insane. I think fans are going to love it.—

Amelie tried to stay focused, but he wasn’t making it easy. Every now and then he’d glance sideways, pulling a face just subtle enough to make her bite back a smile. Once, he wiggled his brows when Laura wasn’t looking.

She cleared her throat, determined. —Lando, how do you feel the film captured the driver experience? Anything that made you go, “Yeah, that’s spot on”?—

He grinned, eyes softening. —There’s this one scene, no spoilers, but it’s about the moments right before lights out. The nerves, the quiet, the way everything else fades out. That hit hard. And…— He paused, glancing her way again. —There’s also the bit about the people who stick by you through the chaos. I felt that one too.—

Amelie’s heart tugged, but she kept it professional, even as her smile turned genuine.

The rest of the interview flew by — Lando playfully dodging Laura’s question about any on-set cameos, throwing in jokes that had Amelie stifling giggles, and making the fans scream again with a wink at the camera just before they wrapped.

As they signed off and the crew shifted focus, Lando leaned in close again, voice warm at her ear.

—You were amazing,— he said. —Told you you’d kill it.—

Amelie turned toward him, smirking. —And you were a menace. But thanks.—

He grinned. —You love it.—

—Unfortunately, yeah. I do.—

Before the next guest could approach, Lando squeezed her waist one last time, shooting her a wink before stepping off, leaving her heart racing and her face aching from trying not to smile like an idiot.

-------------

liked by lanmelie4ever, papayaspotter, and others

lanmelie.updates: Amelie interviewing Lando tonight at the F1 Movie Premiere in New York… the CUTEST, CHAOTIC, FLIRTY press moment we’ve been manifesting 😭🎤🏁

View all 47,283 comments

f1babygirl: LANDO fixing his hair like she hasn’t seen that mess every morning 😭

papayakiss: Amelie interviewing Lando is like watching ur besties flirt on live tv 🍿 → lanmelie4ever: @papayakiss and we’re EATING IT UP!!

papayababe: that waist grab?? the wink?? goodbye. → landoslut: @papayababe he said “you’re mine” on LIVE tv

amessupreme: ames trying not to smile like an idiot the whole time = RELATABLE → lanmelieluv: @amessupreme like girl same 😂

racebabesx: laura holding the mic like “ok enough foreplay” 💀 → pitlanesimp: @racebabesx she was third wheeling SO hard

4amthoughtz: “you were amazing” NO YOU were amazing for making the whole internet combust like that 😭 → landosgirly: @4amthoughtz this man knows EXACTLY what he’s doing!!

mclarenf1fanatic: him making the crowd scream every 5 seconds like??? KING BEHAVIOUR 👑

midnightraces_: ames being PROFESSIONAL and he’s just 😈 making faces every chance he gets

f1chaoscorner: the wink at the end?? my man said “claiming my girl” in 4k → lanmeliefever: @f1chaoscorner and we’re eating it UP!! 😩

landosmilf: him brushing her waist like it’s a reflex?! I’M DECEASED → amelieisqueen: @landosmilf the way she blushed!! stop it!!

papayacrush: laura trying to stay professional while these two flirt like it’s date night 😂 → tracksidecutie: @papayacrush laura said ‘let me work pls’

dr3amlanmelie: the wink?! THE WAIST GRAB?! THEY’RE ENDGAME 😭 → lightsoutlandos: @dr3amlanmelie this is their roman empire

nochillf1fan: ames trying NOT to smile like an idiot… fail successful 😂

papayadrift: THEY’RE SO CUTE I NEED TO SCREAM → landoscarspins: @papayadrift this is the energy we deserve!!!

speedchasing_: when he said “there’s also the bit about people who stick by you” and LOOKED AT HER?!?? I SCREAMED. → lanlovers_: @speedchasing_ he was talking about HER you can’t tell me otherwise 😩

-------------

The afterparty was a vibrant cacophony of thumping bass, mingling voices, and clinking glasses. The main ballroom of the swanky hotel was transformed into a sleek, neon-lit lounge, crowded with drivers, team principals, celebrities, and media, all celebrating the F1 movie's successful premiere. Amelie, still in her deep red dress, found herself surrounded by a whirlwind of conversation, laughter, and camera flashes, but her attention kept snagging on Lando across the room.

He was holding court near the bar, laughing with Carlos Sainz, looking even more effortlessly handsome with his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up. Every now and then, his eyes would cut through the crowd, find hers, and a knowing smile would pass between them – a private current in the buzzing atmosphere.

Amelie tried to engage in conversation, but the energy of the room, combined with the lingering thrill from their red carpet moment, made it hard to focus. She felt Lando’s gaze on her, a persistent warmth that made her skin tingle.

Eventually, he started making his way towards her, subtly excusing himself from various conversations. As he drew closer, the noise of the party seemed to fade, replaced by the thrum of her own heartbeat.

—Finally,— he said, his voice a low, teasing murmur as he reached her side. He leaned in, his hand gently finding the small of her back, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of her dress. —This party is good, but it's getting in the way of what I actually want to do.—

Amelie's cheeks flushed, but she met his gaze, a playful challenge in her eyes. —Oh really? And what's that, Lando?—

His grin widened, mischievous and undeniably alluring. —Something involving you, me, and a little less... audience.— His eyes flicked around the crowded room, a hint of impatience in their depths.

Lando’s hand tightened subtly on her back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. —Come on,— he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flutter.

Amelie didn't need to be asked twice. The unspoken promise in his gaze was intoxicating. She allowed him to guide her, his touch firm and possessive, through the labyrinth of revelers. They moved past clusters of laughing guests, discreetly avoiding direct eye contact with anyone who might try to intercept them. The thumping bass of the music slowly faded behind them as Lando led her away from the main ballroom, down a less-lit corridor that branched off towards the hotel's quieter service areas.

—Where are we going?— Amelie whispered, a thrill of anticipation mixing with the forbidden excitement of their clandestine escape.

He glanced back at her, his grin widening, a glint of pure mischief in his eyes. —Somewhere we won't be interrupted. Somewhere I can actually finish what I started on the red carpet.—

Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. She knew exactly what he meant. He pushed open a heavy, unmarked door, revealing a dimly lit service corridor lined with various cleaning carts and storage units. The air was cool and still, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the afterparty. He quickly pulled her through the doorway, letting the door swing shut behind them with a soft click that muffled the distant sounds of the party.

They were in a small, forgotten alcove, tucked away from prying eyes. The only light came from a flickering fluorescent tube overhead, casting long shadows. It wasn't glamorous, but in that moment, it felt impossibly intimate.

Lando didn't waste a second. He turned to her, his hands immediately finding her waist, pulling her flush against his body. The scent of his cologne, a mix of crisp citrus and warm musk, enveloped her, making her head swim.

—God, Amelie,— he breathed, his voice rough with barely suppressed desire. His head dipped, and before she could even register the movement, his lips claimed hers in a desperate, bruising kiss.

It was everything she had been craving since that teasing peck on the red carpet. His mouth moved over hers with an insistent hunger, demanding a response she eagerly gave. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until she felt herself dizzy with the intensity of it. His hands slid from her waist, roaming up her back, pressing her tighter against him, leaving no space between their bodies.

The kiss grew more fervent, more all-consuming. Amelie moaned softly into his mouth as his tongue teased hers, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through her veins. Her legs felt weak, threatening to give way beneath her.

Suddenly, Lando broke the kiss, a ragged breath escaping his lips. His eyes, dark with a potent mixture of lust and adoration, burned into hers in the dim light. He couldn't hold back anymore.

Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms. Amelie let out a surprised gasp, her hands flying to his shoulders for balance. Her legs, clad in the elegant red dress, instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling her even higher, fitting her body perfectly against his.

He didn't hesitate. His head dipped again, but this time, his lips weren't on her mouth. Instead, hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed down her jawline, sending shivers racing through her. He found the sensitive skin of her neck, pressing fervent, almost bruising kisses there, eliciting a soft whimper from her.

—Fuck, Amelie,— he mumbled against her skin, his voice thick with desire, his hands gripping her thighs, pressing her even closer to him. —You have no idea what you do to me.—

Amelie was indeed going nuts. Every kiss on her neck sent a jolt through her, her body arching into his, her hands clutching at his shoulders. —Lando… oh, Lando…— she moaned, his name a desperate plea escaping her lips. The thrill of it, the forbidden nature of their tryst, made her dizzy. But a sliver of practicality cut through the haze of desire. They couldn’t be gone for hours. Someone would notice.

—Lando, wait,— she whispered, her voice breathless, her fingers pressing against his jaw, trying to pull his head up. —We… we can’t. Not for long. You have to be quick.—

The words, though laced with urgency, only seemed to fuel his desire. He pulled his head back, his eyes still blazing in the dim light. A shadow of a smile played on his lips, a mixture of amusement and raw hunger. He carefully lowered her, letting her feet touch the ground, but he kept her hips pressed against his, their bodies still intimately connected.

His hands, quick and practiced, slid under the hem of her dress. Amelie gasped, a thrill shooting through her as his warm fingers brushed against her bare skin. He didn't hesitate, finding the delicate lace of her panties. With a swift tug, he pulled them down, guiding them over her hips, and discreetly slipped them off, letting them fall to the floor in a silent heap.

Before she could even process the sudden liberation, he scooped her up again, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist, her bareness now pressed against the fine fabric of his trousers. His mouth was back on hers, kissing her with a renewed fervor, deeper and more demanding than before.

As he kissed her, his free hand moved to the waistband of his dress pants. With practiced ease, he unbuttoned them, the sound almost swallowed by their fervent kisses. He pushed the fabric down, his tailored trousers and boxers following in one smooth motion, pooling around his ankles. He adjusted her slightly, guiding himself into position, the heat of him pressing against her.

He pulled back just inches from her lips, his breath ragged, his eyes boring into hers. —You need to be silent, Amelie,— he whispered, his voice a low, urgent growl, before he began to push forward.

He moved slowly, agonizingly so. Amelie gasped, her breath catching in her throat as he began to slide inside her, a long, deliberate movement. She was, as always, impossibly tight. The sensation was overwhelming, a glorious friction that sent a fresh wave of shivers through her body. She instinctively tightened around him, a silent plea for more, for all of him.

Lando groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated against her. He paused, fully buried, letting them both adjust to the exquisite pressure. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed for a moment as he savored the feeling. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her firmly against him.

—Please, Lando,— Amelie whispered, her voice a desperate, pleading rasp, barely audible. —Faster. Please.— She bit down on her lip, trying to contain the urges screaming through her.

He opened his eyes, a devilish smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes were still heavy with desire. —Faster, baby? You know what happens if I go faster.— His voice was a low tease, a challenge. —You’re gonna moan, mi amor. And we can’t have that, can we, good girl?—

He started to move again, still achingly slow, a deliberate, torturous pace that had her writhing against him, desperate for release. Each slow, deep thrust was pure agony and pure bliss, making her muscles clench around him.

—Please, Lando, please— she begged again, her voice a choked whisper, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from the sheer frustration and building pleasure. She pushed her hips against him, trying to urge him on, her nails digging lightly into his shoulders.

He leaned in, kissing her forehead, then her temple, his breath warm against her ear. —Easy, preciosa. Be a good girl. Just a little more. You want to get caught?— He pulled back slightly, then pushed in deep again, slow and deliberate, watching her face as she struggled to keep her moans silent. His control was absolute, and she hated and adored him for it.

But the slow pace was driving Lando just as crazy. The exquisite tightness of Amelie around him, her desperate pleas, the delicious friction – it was pushing him to his absolute limit. A guttural growl escaped his throat, a sound of pure strain. His eyes, fixed on her flushed face, were dark with the struggle for control.

—Damn it, Amelie,— he breathed, his voice raw, losing the teasing edge entirely. —You’re too much, mi amor.—

With that, his control snapped. The slow, deliberate movements gave way to a sudden, explosive surge. He began to thrust faster, and faster, a primal rhythm taking over. Each powerful stroke drove him deeper, harder, eliciting breathless gasps from Amelie. The confined space, the urgency of their hidden encounter, amplified every sensation.

Then he hit it. Her sweet spot.

Amelie’s eyes flew open, her body arching violently against him. A strangled cry tore from her throat, her mouth opening wide to let out the moan that was building deep within her. But before the sound could escape, Lando’s large hand shot up, clamping over her mouth, muffling the desperate sound.

—Shhh, shhh, shhh, baby,— he murmured against her ear, his own breath coming in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the force of his climax building. His thumb rubbed gently over her lips, silencing her, even as he continued to pound into her, a frantic, desperate rhythm.

Her body was convulsing around him, every nerve ending screaming. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in, her legs squeezing tighter around his waist as waves of pleasure consumed her. His hand remained firm over her mouth, catching every choked gasp, every muffled cry of ecstasy.

He drove into her a few more times, powerful, shuddering thrusts, until a final, earth-shattering groan tore from his own throat. He buried his face in her neck, his body going rigid, then collapsing against her, still fully inside her. Amelie felt his release, hot and abundant, deep within her. Her own body followed suit, shuddering violently, a silent, powerful orgasm washing over her as Lando’s hand remained over her mouth, muffling her desperate cries of pleasure until the last ripple subsided.

They stood there for a long moment, clinging to each other in the dim, silent alcove, their breathing ragged, hearts hammering in unison. The distant hum of the afterparty seemed a million miles away.

After a moment, both of them came down from the high, their breathing finally starting to slow. Lando pressed a soft, languid kiss to Amelie’s shoulder before easing out of her, brushing hair away from her damp forehead. They shared a quiet, knowing glance — a mixture of giddy thrill and the urgency of reality crashing back in.

With a breathless chuckle, Lando set her down, brushing the edge of the deep red dress back down over the curve of her thighs. Amelie smirked, brushing herself down and brushing hair out of her face as she watched him scoop up her discarded panties from the floor.

He didn’t hand them over. Instead, grinning like a total brat, he folded the delicate piece of lace and tucked it deep into the pocket of his suit trousers, brushing down the fabric like a man making sure his prize was secure.

—Mine for the night,— he said with a wink, brushing down the crisp lines of his suit pants as if he didn’t have evidence of their rendezvous folded away.

Amelie gave him a sharp glance, brushing a finger down the lapel of his jacket. —If you lose those, Norris, I will kill you.—

He pressed a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, brushing hair from the side of her face. —Lose them? Never. Might frame them later, put ‘em on the shelf next to the trophies.—

Amelie swatted at him, rolling her eyes as she tried to regain some composure. Together, they stepped towards the door, brushing down any last creases. The muffled hum of the afterparty felt impossibly far away now, replaced by the sound of their own quiet breathing and the faint shuffle of their steps.

Then the door clicked shut behind them, and as they turned down the long hallway, there he was — Carlos. Leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

He didn’t say a word, just gave a slow nod and an approving raise of the eyebrows.

—Horny fuckers,— he said, voice low enough to sting and tease, shaking his head as he pushed away from the wall.

[jiuxyzx]

the trauma code 📢

word count: 2,011

genre: medical drama, hint of angst, slight comedy, romance, smau at the end.

⚠️ mentions of blood, organ, operation, doctor!reader, the bridge incident, the situation is heavily inspired by the eps. 3 & 4

☆ i had this in mind for a few days now, oh, and it's not related to the smau i posted before!

“What a lucky day for Doctor Ji—she’s not even answering my calls.” Jang-mi sighed, setting her phone down. You have finally gotten your first day off since becoming a specialist doctor.

Beside her, Jae-won shrugged. “She deserves it. She’s been working nonstop since she started with Doctor Kwon.”

Gyeong-won nodded in agreement. They barely had time to relax before the intercom buzzed with an urgent announcement.

“Code black! Code black! All doctors report to the ER immediately.”

Their half-eaten lunches were forgotten as they sprinted toward the emergency room. The first thing they saw upon arrival was Doctor Baek, already assessing the situation.

“Anus is going to go with me to the scene” Jae-won looked at him puzzled, “Why do i have to go?”

A heavy silence filled the ER. He could already picture Kang-hyuk sighing, then getting annoyed, and he really didn’t want to deal with that, so he quickly added, “Okay then, i’ll bring the emergency supplies”

When the helicopter finally landed, Kang-hyuk pulled Jae-won's hand to get inside after they removed the patient from the helicopter for treatment in the emergency room.

“How's the situation there?” Kang-hyuk asked over the radio.

There was a brief pause before Officer An Jung-heon’s voice crackled through. “Worse than expected. We still haven’t been able to evacuate the people trapped beneath the bridge.”

Kang-hyuk wasted no time dividing their responsibilities. “I’ll triage the critical patients. Jae-won, take the ones I sort out.”

The pilot asks Kang-hyuk whether he wants to land on the bridge or under the bridge. He, of course, answered that the chopper must land under the bridge.

As soon as they touched down, they hurried into action. Officer An Jung-heon was already on-site, guiding ambulances through the narrow access road.

A child’s cry caught Kang-hyuk’s attention. He rushed toward a little girl, kneeling beside her with the emergency kit in hand.

Her wounds were minor, but the fear in her wide eyes told him everything. “You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her gently. “We’ll take you to the hospital soon.”

She clutched his sleeve, her voice trembling. “Please save my brother. He was hugging me when the bus fell.” She's crying, and her words hit him hard in the gut. She was just a child.

Kang-hyuk told her that he and the other doctors and the SAR team would do their best to find her brother.

After getting her to a safer area, he turned back to the wreckage, quickly sorting through the injured. When he found the little girl’s brother, his condition was serious—a stab wound, likely from debris.

He told Jae-won to go into the ambulance with a stab wound– the little girl's brother.

Meanwhile, Kang-hyuk moved toward the bridge, scanning the wreckage. Then, his breath caught.

A car. One that looked exactly like yours.

His pulse pounded as he approached. The other patients had already been treated, but no one had checked inside the vehicle. He yanked the door open.

“Doctor Ji,” His breath hitched, “There's another person here!” The rescue team quickly ran to him, bringing the scoop stretcher.

Kang-hyuk tells them to bring you to the chopper, trying to keep his voice steady.

“What?”

“Bring her to the chopper!” They bring your unconscious body to the chopper, while An Jung-heon also helps by opening the door and standing by inside so they can get you in faster.

They worked quickly, with An Jung-heon helping to secure you inside. Kang-hyuk’s heart slammed against his ribs. Your condition was worsening.

By the time the helicopter reached the hospital, he was praying— praying that he’d be able to save you in time.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

The helicopter finally landed, and all of them rushed to get you inside the OR. The nurse looked surprised when they first saw you laying weakly on the scoop stretcher.

When they finally made it to the OR, Kang-hyuk told them to call for Jae-won, Jang-mi, and Gyeong-won– luckily, they had already finished their operation.

Kang-hyuk goes outside the room to wash his hands, and Jae-won gets inside with Jang-mi and Gyeong-won to go to their position.

In the OR, chaos reigned.

“Heart rate dropping— it’s too low!” Gyeong-won shouted.

Kang-hyuk rushed to get inside, murmuring your name while wearing his gown hurriedly, hoping that you would hold on for a little longer.

Jae-won’s heart pounded. “She’s in cardiac arrest! Starting CPR!” He climbed onto the bed, pumping your chest. “Stay with us, Doctor Ji.”

“V-fib, get down” Kang-hyuk goes to your side, holding both of the paddles on his hands, putting it on your chest.

“Charge to 200 joules”

“Clear!”

“Shot!” Your body jerked from the defibrillator shock. No response.

“Charge again! 200 joules”

And finally, your heart condition came back to normal, “Give me the heart USG” Jang-mi help Kang-hyuk by bringing the machine close to him, “Patient having a heart rupture, we need to operate her quickly”

“We'll start the operation now. Mess.” Kang-hyuk's hand skillfully cut through your skin using the mess, “suction”

After a while, your heart starts to squirt blood to the outside of the heart, making Kang-hyuk hold your heart in his hand– literally.

“Anus, hold her heart tightly” Jae-won looked surprised, and he stuttered “With hand?”

“Hurry!” Kang-hyuk then asks Jang-mi to give him a surgical glove, who quickly complies with his order.

After he cuts it to match with the rupture, he puts it on the rupture and starts to stich the piece he takes from the glove.

“With this, the patient will hold for 10 minutes at best, so now we're doing reinforcement. Everybody, focus” Everyone in the OR stays still for a while.

“Sutures”

Kang-hyuk carefully resected a piece of the pericardium, placing it over the rupture and stitching it into place while ordering Jae-won to do the same.

“Gangster, take an endoscope” Jang-mi raised her eyebrows, “it's on the old building” she sighs.

“I'll give you 5 minutes, run!” She then ran out of the OR to get the endoscope.

4 hours has passed, they finally done with the last operation for today, and the operation finally came to success. Your bed was transferred to the VIP room.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“All four trauma patients from the Seongsu Bridge accident have successfully undergone surgery.” Kang-hyuk declared to the reporter with Jae-won beside him.

The reporters murmured something, “Isn't it just three patients? Who is the fourth?” One of them asked.

Both of them sigh before answering the question, “One of our own trauma doctor is having a time off, and unfortunately she's on the accident, she's having a heart rupture and the operation just finished a few minutes ago”

A frenzy of questions erupted.

Kang-hyuk mentions some people that had help him, like Jang-mi, Gyeong-won, and Doctor Han.

"There are many others working tirelessly behind the scenes who deserve recognition for their efforts in helping patients affected by this accident. We hope the trauma center becomes a vital lifeline for those in need and that it receives additional support for medical advancements and technical resources."

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Why would Baek Kang-hyuk care deeply about you? That's also a question Kang-hyuk tried to avoid sometimes. When he asks that to himself, he can even seem to figure out the answer.

One thing for sure, you've done your way cracking through his heart ever since he first laid eyes on you.

You're practically the sunshine in the gloomy trauma unit room. Your presence can make everyone instantly happy.

Your kind gestures and pretty face make you the definition of beauty inside out.

The first time he sees you, you're doing CPR to one of the trauma patients when the other doesn't seem to move because they are already giving up with the patient's condition.

When he asks you the reason for you to do it, "“I don’t want anyone to suffer the way my mother did. The doctors gave up on her when she still had a chance. When I studied to become a doctor, I realized she could have been saved if they hadn't given up on her."

Your tear prickled in the corner of your eyes, and so he handed you a tissue.

Kang-hyuk swears it's the way you move, the way you talk, the way he can clearly feel the butterflies on his stomach when you are just standing a little too close to him.

The way your eyebrow furrows when you're focusing on something, the way you hold his hand when he didn't get to save a patient while calming words also comes out of your mouth.

All of them make him start to give his piece of his heart little by little to you.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

You can feel the warmth of a person beside you, holding your hands while his head is dropped to the bed.

“Kang-hyuk,” Your voice is weak, small, but at least he can hear your voice again.

His face etched with worries written all over him, He handed you a glass of water which you drink rather fastly “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Even in the state you're in, you can still laugh at him, Kang-hyuk doesn't understand.

“You look cute when you worry about me like that, and no, I'm not hurt anywhere. Thank you” He shook his head, refusing your thanks.

When he really looks at you, you can see the way his eyes are bloodshot, a sign that he's been crying.

“Don't make me worry about you again” His hand goes straight to brush your hair out of your face, and your cheeks flush at his gesture. The tension between both of you is there but not too thick.

Gyeong-won, Jae-won and Jang-mi– who've been wanting to visit you because they heard you have already woken up, suddenly stop their movement.

They can see the tension, curious about what's going to happen next. They didn't know you've been dating him?

“We'll talk about this later, now you need to rest and eat, what do you want to eat?” He gets his phone from his pocket, opening an online food delivery application on his phone.

He then lets you freely choose the restaurant from his phone, occasionally scolding you when you ask for something out of the box.

There was also a lot of laughter filling up the room when both of you found something funny.

That sweet moment, soon being interrupted by the loud thud from the door of your room, all three members of your team look startled by the scene in front of them.

How could you? Their mother, not by blood; the radiant light of everyone– dating the new moody, cocky, grumpy doctor? And sharing a sweet moment in a hospital bed and in front of their own eyes, no less?

When both of you take a look behind Kang-hyuk, the atmosphere becomes awkward, so you just invite them to sit on the sofa with a small voice, embarrassed by the action you just had with the new head of the trauma center.

“…Would you like to sit down?” you offered weakly.

Luckily though, they didn't bring the topic back to the table and just said that they wanted to have lunch there.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“So, you and Doctor Baek, huh?” Jang-mi has been teasing you for almost a week now.

Your relationship with Baek Kang-hyuk is not a secret anymore, not only Jang-mi teasing you up until now, but Gyeong-won and Jae-won also giving you nods of disappointment when they saw you and Kang-hyuk together.

“Nurse Jang-mi, you better stop now or I'm going to cut your supplies of instant ramyeon for the rest of your life” A smile plastered on your face, not your usual sweet smile, but one that can be described as a threat even when you're not saying anything.

Jang-mi quickly shut her mouth and pretended to look at the computer on her desk.

Kang-hyuk handles the situation differently. He would just glare at them before flashing that infuriatingly smug smirk of his.

⚕ smau bellow ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ↓

[wandering-pirate]

When the moon fades, the stars guide

Part 1

Part two of "How does a moon lose its shine?"

Summary: When the chaos went down, what led up to it? And what will happen next in the dark, metal casements of the Tulpar?

Pairing: Father figure! Swansea x reader

a/n: ask and you shall receive~ thanks for y'all's patience!!

Trigger warning: Depictions of sexual abuse and violence. There are no explicit scenes of the rape itself but the trauma and experience of y/n is very much described. Please take care of yourselves while reading <3<3

Day of Departure

The Tulpar’s engines hummed steadily, a sound you came to think of as the freighter’s heartbeat. Three years on this ship, and it started to feel like a second skin at this point. But still, every haul gives you that faint, familiar buzz of excitement, like the thrill of stepping into something bigger than yourself. Responsibility.

You leaned against the inventory console, triple-checking your clipboard. Rows of numbers and codes blurred together, but the satisfaction of seeing everything in order made the strain worth it.

"So, you’re the famous Y/N," a voice chirped behind you.

You turned to find Daisuke, the new mechanic intern that Curly told the crew about. He looked barely out of his teens, his uniform covered with a bright yellow hawaian-patterned shirt that he somehow managed to smuggle and had a grin a little too wide. Newbie's buzz, you thought.

"And you’re the new grease monkey," you teased, extending a hand.

"Mechanic-in-training," he corrected, shaking your hand with exaggerated seriousness. "Big difference."

Swansea scoffed from the other side of the utility room, tinkering away with a coolant valve. "Big talk for a kid who just learned what a carburetor is."

"I thought it was a coffee maker for cars," Daisuke mumbled to you, pouting.

Biting back a laugh, you shot Swansea a grin that practically dared him to roll his eyes. He didn’t disappoint.

Jimmy entered the room, clipboard in hand. His presence had always been grounding, his confidence infectious. He nodded at you as he passed. "Inventory’s in good hands, as usual."

"As if you’d trust anyone else," you replied, your tone light but your chest warming at the compliment. He smirked, tapping the clipboard.

The ship’s intercom crackled to life. "Alright, folks," Curly’s voice boomed. "Buckle up, we're launching at five."

Your hand froze on the console. No matter how many times you’d done this, the Tulpar's jump during the launch always lit something in you. The co-pilot once commented how you're like a puppy with a treat dangling in front of you.

As a kid, you’d been obsessed with the idea of outer space. Not in a “memorizing star charts” kind of way, but in a way where you just admired them every night that you gazed at the night sky.

Whenever you see pictures of galaxies, stars, or any heavenly body, it was like looking at something familiar, something that made sense to you. The outer space wasn’t just an escape; it was home.

Anya appeared at your side, her medical bag slung over one shoulder. She flashed a small smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Let me guess," she said, her voice relaxed. "Gonna watch the Earth fade away again, huh?"

"Every. Damn. Time." You nudged her playfully, earning a laugh.

"Swansea's really rubbing on you with those words."

When the Tulpar lurched, you gripped the edge of the console, your gaze already flicking toward the viewport. For a moment, the universe stretched out in every direction, infinite and vast. You couldn’t help the grin on your face.

Out here, it all felt right. The stars, the ship, the crew… they all came together in a way that felt as natural as breathing. For now, at least, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

One Month After the Crash

When you thought things were about to get better the night you broke down, helpless, at the lounge... you were desperately wrong. Somehow, the man who betrayed you, the monster you treated as a friend, a mentor—hell, even family—claimed Curly's title and is set loose.

And now? You were cowering at the corner of the utility room, covering your ears as the voices outside grew louder with every passing minute. Funny how one voice made you gag and the other made you feel secure.

“Come on, Swansea. I told you, I’m not gonna hurt Y/N, alrig—”

“If you’ve got a death wish,” Swansea’s voice, low and bristling, cut through the tension. “Keep yappin’.”

It had been a month. A month of watching your back. A month of slipping between rooms, dodging Jimmy’s shadow, a sick game you were forced to play with him. But it was also a month of being under the mechanic’s wing, always having him or Daisuke by your side when checking inventories, because almost facing your deaths just days ago wasn’t enough reason to stop your job. Or being in the locked medbay with Anya when both your guards were busy.

“Look, I just wanna make things right,” Jimmy said, his tone too smooth, too practiced. “Curly’s out of commission, and now, as captain, it’s my job to take responsibility for what I’ve done.”

For a second, your stomach twisted at the pause. Would Swansea actually believe him? Could he? You strained to hear the older man’s reply, then there it was.

It started weak, the soft wheezing sounds went through the metal wall. It grew louder, rougher, until it was a full-blown, bitter laugh that rattled the air. Guilt filled your chest—why would you even ever doubt him after all he's done?

"What a fuckin' joke. Know what? If yer that desperate to play captain, wanna tell me how the ol' Tulpar really crashed?"

Silence. Not even a breath from Jimmy. Then, heavy, angry stomps faded down the hall.

For a solid ten minutes, you stayed frozen, your pulse loud in your ears. The air in the utility room felt thick, clinging to your skin. Then the door hissed open.

“That roach’s got some nerve,” Swansea muttered, stepping inside. His face was carved with exhaustion, but his sharp eyes softened when he met yours. He offered a tired smile, and you returned it, grateful.

"You shouldn’t be out here," Swansea grumbled, his eyes scanning the corridor as he steered you back toward the medbay.

"I’m fine." You tried evading him, but given his bouncer-like body, he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Sure, and I’m the swan princess from that pink doll kid's show."

The Tulpar floated through infinite space, a shell of its former self. It wasn’t one of those massive freighters like the newer ones Pony Express had, but a running old freighter is infinitely better than a broken old freighter. Supplies were low, tensions were high, and the Tulpar's once-familiar corridors felt more like a prison than home.

When the asteroid hit, or so Jimmy claimed, Curly had supposedly saved everyone by making a split-second turn to minimize the impact. It was a story that gave the crew a shred of hope, something to hold on to.

But cracks already started to form in Jimmy’s tale. The damage didn’t match the trajectory of any known asteroid paths. The ship’s logs were corrupted, erasing any evidence of what really happened.

It wasn't farfetched to believe that Jimmy didn't stay put at his quarters when the crash happened.

Swansea has his suspicions. So did you. But neither of you said it out loud. The truth was a dangerous thing aboard the Tulpar now, fragile and very explosive, just waiting for the right moment to destroy whatever was left.

"Kid," Swansea’s voice broke through your thoughts. You hummed, "Don’t go doin’ that thing where you stare off into space like a lost puppy."

You managed a weak smile. "Can’t help it. Space is kinda my thing."

He snorted, but his eye-roll was absent. He didn’t let you go until he was sure you were back in the medbay, under Anya’s watchful eye and the door's lock.

2 Months before the Crash

Jimmy’s compliments had always felt harmless. You were used to his jokes, his easy smiles, and the way he called you "kid". It was comforting, in a way - until recently.

"Nice shirt," he said one day, leaning casually against the inventory shelves as you logged spare parts into the system.

You glanced down at your standard-issue disgustingly yellow t-shirt, streaked with dust and grease from helping Swansea earlier. "Uh, thanks? Didn’t know grease-stained chic was trending."

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You pull it off, though."

You gave him a half-smile, feeling like the co-pilot has something more to say than he's letting on. His tone felt... heavier. You chalked it up to overthinking and turned back to your work. Jimmy was your friend, someone you’d always trusted.

But somehow, the comments became more frequent, more pointed. A hand on your shoulder lingered too long. Always looking at you when he laughs.

The next time it happened, you were helping the mechanic in the engine room. You crouched next to him, handing over tools as he muttered under his breath about "cheap replacement parts." The rhythmic clank of the wrench echoed in the space while Daisuke watched because the last time he helped replace something, he had to receive 3 stitches from Anya.

"Careful not to scratch the paint off," you teased, smirking.

Swansea snorted, rolling his eyes. "Look who's talkin', Ms. 'I-can-make-any room-look-like-a-fukin' junkyard' with all the shit you leave laying around."

"Ha! Boss' got you there Y/N!" You poked your tongue out at the intern.

Swansea gave you a sideways glance, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You wanna talk about paint? Maybe start by remembering where you put all yer inventory sheets before I have to staple ‘em to yer forehead."

You laughed, wiping your hands on your coveralls, when Jimmy walked in. His gaze lingered too long as he leaned against the doorway.

"Got the inventory finished?" he asked, his voice casual.

"Mostly," you said. "Swansea needed a hand, so I figured I’d multitask."

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed briefly, just a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. His smile returned, too quick to feel natural. "You’re a real team player, kid."

Swansea grunted in agreement, not looking up. "She’s handy, I’ll give her that. Saved me a headache with these damn filters."

"Hey! I'm here, to--"

"Tell me what happened to yer forehead with just a screwdriver, boy." That seemed to silence Daisuke up.

Jimmy’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe, though he quickly masked it with a chuckle. "Better not let her show you up, old man."

"Not a chance," Swansea shot back, oblivious to the tension.

But you felt it. The way Jimmy’s smile didn’t match his eyes, the way his presence filled the room like static. Something about it was off. You wanted to brush it aside, but the feeling lingered.

Later, in the lounge, Curly tossed you a cup of coffee. "Heard you’ve been pulling double duty with the inventory and the utility. You gunning for my job or what?"

You smirked, shaking your head. "Dream bigger, Curly. I’m aiming for Swansea’s."

Curly laughed, but his attention shifted behind you for a moment. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jimmy standing in the doorway again, watching. His posture was casual, but his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the counter.

When you turned back, Curly raised an eyebrow. "Jimmy’s been hovering a lot lately. You notice that?"

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. "He’s probably just bored."

But deep down, you weren’t so sure. You sipped your coffee, forcing a laugh. "One more compliment from him? I’m charging him rent."

Curly chuckled, but his smile faded slightly as he glanced at Jimmy again. "You should tell him that. See what he says."

You smiled weakly, staring into your coffee as the unease settled in your chest.

One Month Before the Crash

Jimmy’s words echoed in your ears, wrapping around your thoughts like a noose.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he said, his voice trembling, his breath uneven. "But I can’t stop thinking about you."

You remembered the way his hands shook, how his eyes flitted between you and the walls, never meeting yours. He looked like he wanted to convince himself as much as you. But it wasn’t the shaking or his words that lingered in your mind, it was the suffocating fear, the way the air in the room thickened, pressing down on your chest until you couldn’t breathe.

You fought back, kicked, punched, scratched, used everything in your disposal, but it wasn't enough.

In that moment, the world felt unrecognizable. The Jimmy you looked up to, trusted, and even laughed with, was gone. Or maybe he had never been real.

And you felt something within you... break.

You didn’t cry. Not then. The betrayal was too sharp, cutting through your chest like shards of glass. You couldn’t feel anything but the raw, jagged edges of shock and pain. It was never-ending, it was unforgiving.

Later, when it was over and the room was silent again, you sat on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the dull metal wall. The memories replayed in your head, over and over, a loop you couldn’t escape.

"Why didn’t I stop him?"

"Why didn’t I fight harder?"

"Why didn’t I say something?"

The questions bit you, each one sinking its sharp fangs deeper into your guilt, into your body, mind, and soul.

Jimmy’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. You remembered how he sat across from you, his voice low and soft, as though he were the one wounded.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," he’d said, his tone almost pleading. "You don’t have to hate me, you know? I care about you. I just… I just couldn’t hold it in anymore."

Each word sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you. The confusion was unbearable. Was he sorry? Or was this another lie? Another betrayal? It didn’t matter. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or yourself anymore.

And from that night on, everything you loved about your life on the ship, the crew, the stars outside your window, even your own reflection, felt like it died.

You went through the days like a ghost. Your laughter was gone, replaced by silence. Meals went untouched. The inventory, your pride and responsibility, piled up unchecked.

The crew noticed. How Swansea’s gruff teasing didn’t make you laugh anymore. How Daisuke’s bad jokes only entered your ear and exited the other. And every time Jimmy walked into the room, your body froze, your skin crawling as though his gaze alone could trap you again.

Anya, however, never pried. She saw through the silence, the robotic movements, the emptiness in your eyes.

One evening, she's nursing you. You sat on the cot, staring at the floor, your hands limp in your lap. You passed out from hunger earlier and Dasiuke had to carry you to the medbay, sweating and frantically assuring himself more than anyone through panicked mumbles.

She approached quietly, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand. "Y/N," she said softly, placing the tray beside you.

You didn’t respond.

Anya pulled up a chair and sat down across from you, her gaze steady. "You have to eat."

"I’m not hungry," you murmured, your voice flat.

She didn’t push. Instead, she reached out, her hand resting gently on your arm. Her warmth cut through the cold numbness you’d wrapped yourself in.

"You know, it’s okay to feel like this," she said quietly. Her tone wasn’t pitying, just kind. "But you don’t have to do it alone."

You didn’t react. You couldn’t. Her words were like waves breaking against a stone, unable to reach its core.

Anya stayed with you anyway. She talked softly, about nothing in particular, old stories, small jokes, telling you how Daisuke stole Swansea's snacks and having to say I'm sorry for a hundred times as punishment. She didn’t expect you to respond. She was simply there, filling the silence with her presence.

Even when you retreated deeper into yourself, Anya never gave up. She left food by your workstation, tidied your quarters when you weren’t looking, and covered for you when Curly asked too many questions.

One night, as Anya walked you back to your quarters, she stopped just outside your door. Her voice, usually gentle, held a weight you hadn’t heard before.

"Y/N," she began carefully, "I’ve been where you are."

Your steps faltered. The numbness you carried didn’t lift, but her words sent a faint ripple through the sea of numbess. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor, your hand tightening on the doorknob.

"I know what Jimmy did to you," she continued softly.

The air in the hallway felt suddenly heavy. Anya hesitated, then added, "It happened to me too. Weeks ago."

The words were like a thunderclap in your mind, sharp and deafening. You turned to her, your eyes wide with disbelief.

"You knew?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, raw and cracking. Anya went through the same thing yet here she is, stronger than you, caring for you. Your stomach churned in guilt. "You—why didn’t you tell anyone? Tell me?"

Anya’s expression didn’t falter, but her shoulders tensed as though she’d been bracing for this. "I told Curly," she admitted, her voice quiet but steady. "But… nothing changed."

Nothing changed.

The words hit like a sledgehammer, shattering the fragile threads of hope you’d been clinging to. Your chest tightened as anger and despair fought for control.

"You told him," you whispered, the words trembling with a pain that reached far deeper than you’d let anyone see.

Anya didn’t look away. She didn’t try to explain or justify it. "I thought it would help," she said, her tone even. "I thought it would stop."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, sharp and hollow. "And now it’s my turn, right? Cap kept quiet and hoped it wouldn’t happen again?"

"Y/N--"

"Now what, Anya?" You snapped, your voice rising despite the lump in your throat. "What was the point of telling him if it didn’t change anything? He was supposed to be the captain, he was supposed to protect his crew. And no it didn’t stop tha--"

Your words broke off as your breath hitched. The weight of it all, Jimmy’s betrayal, Curly’s silence, Anya’s quiet endurance, crashed down on you like a tidal wave.

Anya reached out, her hand brushing against your arm, but you pulled away.

"I can’t—" you choked out, shaking your head as tears blurred your vision. "Sorry Anya, can I be alone for a moment? Please, don't look for me."

The hallway felt too small, the air too thick. You stumbled back, your legs moving on instinct as you fled toward the lounge, where the empty silence swallowed you whole.

This was where it all unravelled like a predator ripping meats of its prey piece by agonizing piece.

The knife in your trembling hand, the memories replaying in your mind, the feeling of the world collapsing around you, all of it led back to this moment. To the truth you could no longer ignore.

The one person you thought could protect you knows - and he did nothing.

Two Months After the Crash

The cargo bay was dimly lit, the faint hum of the ship's remaining systems filling the silence.

Jimmy had been relentless over the past week, pestering Swansea to let him talk to you about the cargo. Why? Well unlike any other facilities of the freighter that's unlocked by codes visible through the Captain's flashlight, the cargo bay can only be unlocked by a code held by two crewmembers - the captain and inventory officer. Obviously, with Curly laying helpless in the medbay, Jimmy only had one person left to disturb. And the man grabbed the opportunity to talk to you again.

Exhausted, that’s what you were. Tired of Jimmy's persistence, of how he kept shifting from casual then cutting sharper the next. And all these bugging went straight to Swansea. As much as you didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction, you knew there was no way around it - you gave in, but not for Jimmy. You did it for the mechanic.

“Are you sure about this?” Swansea asked earlier, his voice low but heavy. The lines on his face deepened as he watched you wrestle with the decision.

You nodded, though your stomach twisted at the thought. “Jimmy’s not going to stop bugging you about it, and you’ve got enough on your plate. I’ll deal with him.”

The mechanic grumbled something under his breath, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. You shouldn’t have to deal with him at all.”

“I know,” you’d said softly. “But he’s not going to stop. And… I’ll have you and Daisuke with me. It’ll be fine.”

Swansea did not looked convinced, but he eventually relented, only after you promised he could stay nearby, just in case.

Now, standing in front of the cargo bay's doors with Jimmy pacing in front of you, you were keenly aware of Swansea’s presence by the door. A silent guard, his watchful eyes never leaving the co-pilot. Daisuke was at your side, arms crossed and radiating quiet protectiveness, like a little brother who didn’t care how big a fight he might have to pick if it meant keeping you safe.

Jimmy, oblivious or indifferent to the tension, took a step forward, his movements quick but not careless. “Y/N, I know you’ve been keeping tabs on the cargo. But it’s been two months. We need to know what’s in there. It could help us—”

“It won’t,” you interrupted, your voice steady but firm. “I’ve told you before, Jimmy. It’s nothing important. We'll just waste our time."

Jimmy’s jaw tightened. “Leave that up to me to decide whether what's in there is important or not."

Swansea cursed under his breath and your lips pressed in a thin line, but the man's gaze didn’t waver.

Daisuke took a step forward. “She’s not wrong. Y/N wouldn’t hide anything if it could help. She knows what she’s doing, Jimmy.”

Jimmy scoffed. “I’m just saying—if there’s even a chance, we should check. We’re running out of options here.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Fine,” you said, exasperated. “You want to see it so badly? Go ahead. Open it. But when you'll find out I’m right, I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Daisuke frowned but didn’t say anything, glancing at you like he wanted to intervene but knew better than to push. Instead, he stepped closer to your side, his quiet presence grounding you.

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as though he’d won some kind of victory. “Thanks, the code?” he muttered, moving toward the cargo bay doors. Swansea was already there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked on Jimmy.

“She said yes,” Jimmy said defensively as he approached, but Swansea didn’t move.

“She shouldn’t have to,” Swansea muttered under his breath, stepping aside only when you gave him a small nod.

"4517" The pad beeped with each number you tell him. The entrance hissed open, like a dragon waking up from its deep slumber.

The cargo bay was dim, the rows of hundreds of boxes towered over all of you. You followed Jimmy inside, Daisuke sticking close to you while Swansea lingered by the door.

The co-pilot walked straight to the nearest box, his movements quick and eager. “Let’s see what’s so ‘unimportant,’” he muttered.

As the box was pried open, the sharp, clinical smell hit instantly.

Mouthwash.

Jimmy froze, staring down at the neatly packed bottles as if they might suddenly transform into something else. Daisuke peered over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising. “Huh. Well, that’s… useful,” he said.

Jimmy’s face burned as he looked back at you. “This is it? You’re telling me this is all we’ve been hauling?”

“I told you. Nothing important. But you couldn’t take my word for it, could you? You know what's funny, Jimmy?" You balled your hands on your sides, "I should be the one not trusting you, after what you've done."

Jimmy stood there, eyes narrowing and jaw clenched. For a moment, it looked like he was gearing up to argue. But it was all so painfully obvious, the desperation in his stance. He wanted to paint himself as the victim, again, to make excuses, again, as if he wasn’t already a pathetic excuse for a man.

You glanced at the box, the sight of the neatly labeled bottles almost comical in its absurdity, mocking the co-pilot. Then your eyes landed at him, his confidence snapping under the weight of his proud insistence.

“Satisfied now?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife. Without waiting for an answer, you turned your back. “This is your answer, Jimmy...”

For the first time since the crash, you felt something crack open inside you, not fear, not guilt, but anger. Controlled, righteous anger.

"We don’t survive by hunches or waiting for some fucking miracle," you spat. "We survive because people are actually out here making sure the Tulpar doesn’t fall apart."

Your eyes met Swansea's, then to the ground.

"Everyone pitches in, does what needs to be done, no matter how much of a death trap the job is. But if you’re too busy playing pretend captain while the rest of us are holding it all together, maybe it’s better that you step back and let the people who actually know how to keep this mess running do their thing."

You didn't wait for a response, not even tried to gauge his emotion. You left the cargo bay, going into the only place that gave you comfort, utility room.

Swansea appeared in the doorway. Before he could speak, before you could even gather your thoughts, you found yourself moving toward him. The words caught in your throat, but your legs carried you anyway, and in one swift motion, you collided with him in a tight hug. The kind you hadn’t realized you needed until the warmth of his body pressed against you.

“Thanks for everything," You paused, and before you could stop it, the words slipped out. "...dad."

For a moment, everything went still. The hum of the damaged Tulpar only filling the air, and for one fleeting second, you feared you said too much. That you crossed a line, said something you didn’t have the right to say.

But then, without a word, his arms wrapped around you, solid and sure, holding you like he was never going to let go. The tension in your chest slowly released and a stray tear rolled down your cheek.

“Always, kid.” His voice was low, thick with meaning, and at that moment, it held everything you needed to hear.