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#airplane incident
thatsrightice · 6 months
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F-14 FUN FACT OF THE DAY #51
In August 1990, at the very beginning of Operation Desert Shield, two F-14 Tomcats were sent to agressively intercept an unidentified fast-moving aircraft. The US Navy was currently on high alert with F-14 Tomcats flying 24/7 to protect Navy boats in the Persian Gulf following an incident where an Iraqi Dassault Falcon 50 "Suzanne", a busines jet outfitted with advanced weapons systems and radars, had attacked a US frigate. The USS Stark had been hit by two anti-ship missiles, killing 37 crew and injuring many others.
With the tensions among US Naval ships high, the two F-14s quickly locked onto the unidentified aircraft. Their systems were unable to identify it as it was flying at a very high altitude, so David "Hey Joe" Parson, an F-14 RIO flying in one of the Tomcats, pulled a camera with a 300 mm lens out of his backpack. Using the camera as a spyglass of sorts, he was able to easily identify the silhouette of a Concorde (and take this picture).
They let the Concorde continue on its way :)
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whilomm · 2 months
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these are claims from a different whistleblower than the one that was totally not murdered by boeing
(disclaimer, im not an expert and this article doesnt go into a ton of detail on the specific issues, so i could be a lil off, these are very much non-expert speculation rambles. anyone who understands better, feel free to correct me/add more deets).
if im reading it right these claims get into the way boeing has been outsourcing more and more manufacturing of parts to other companies, such as for the fuselage (the plane body as a whole, big tube u sit in). if those parts dont quite fit together right (and keep in mind the margins of error on these things can be VERY small in some cases, though im not sure exactly how much wiggle room they got here), that can lead to too much stress on certain parts.
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like, for example, if one part of the fuselage is just baaaarely too big for the next part it connects to, it might all seem to fit together perfectly fine, but every time it takes off and lands or goes thru compression cycles (that is when they take off and land, going from low pressure-high pressure-low pressure), it just puts a BIT too much pressure on where they join. and over the years, that pressure just adds up until theres microscopic stress fractures, which become slightly larger stress fractures, until they get big enough that once a plane reaches a high enough altitude theres a midair disentegration, which is. exactly as bad as it sounds.
(sidenote: compression cycles can be more important for determining an airplanes lifespan than flight hours. the usual metaphor is bending a paperclip back and forth until it breaks, how many times can you bend it before metal fatigue sets in and it just snaps. holding it in a more bent position however will take a lot longer to snap it generally.)
now to be clear, every single plane has an intended service life, and its well known that planes can only take so many compression cycles before they start to get really hard to maintain without going kablooey. a plane may be rated for like, idk, 50k compression cycles (so, taking off and landing 50k times before its retired, because after that its no longer worth the maintenance vs just making a new plane). but if it turns out that plane has some flaw in its build that means itll develop fatal stress factures at only 20k cycles, well. thats bad. not sure exactly how the schedule on looking for stress factures looks like for maintenece crews (do they do it regularly for all planes on a set schedule? do they only do it occasionally for new planes, and start to ramp up checks as the plane gets older? dunno!) but well. generally speaking, a plane having a fatal flaw that gives it an explosive midlife crisis is Bad. i would hope theyd catch it! but i dont know enough about the deets of fuselage maintenence to know the specifics.
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and OH YAY COMPOSITE MATERIALS. now, before anyone gets too freaked out thinking about the uh. submarine. use of composite materials is actually far more common on planes than on subs for a buncha reasons. one, planes just generally undergo a lot less in terms of pressure (that futurama joke, "this spaceship can handle between one and zero atmospheres", vs subs that have to deal with tens to potentially hundreds of atmospheres) but also because apparently, for complicated material engineering reasons, composite materials work much better under tension (high pressure INSIDE pushing OUT, like airplane) than under compression (high pressure OUTSIDE pushing IN, like submarine). heres a vid from someone who wrote their masters on composite materials under compression if you wanna hear from someone slightly smarter on the subject. im not gonna pretend like i understand the full deets, but "composites do OKAY with tension" is enough for me, go read the fancy scientific papers if you want more.
now, so that people do freak out at least a little bit: hm. dont like that they are using Way More Composite Than Usual on this plane. how much is the usual? idk, i assume composites are much more popular with low altitude small aircraft (bc well, weight and less pressure worries), dunno whats considered normal for high altitude longhaul crafts. but, apparently, the dreamliner is "more than usual". which, yeah cool, lighter weight airplanes use less fuel which is better for longhaul flights. is it. well tested enough though???
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...anyway. im not an engineer, idk the full Deets, but well. havin lotsa fun hearing the engineers talk about how the parts of the giant metal skybirds dont fit together quite right and theyre using materials that fail more catastrophically than metal with less warning, experimentally, and we dont quiiiite have the data to know if. its a problem. thats really fun! LOVE hearing about how much theyre outsourcing parts, given how bad quality control of things as tiny as the titanium in some bolts or a little bit of the engine blades being not properly vacuum forged has lead to catastrophic failure in the past, and knowing how important sourcing of parts in airplanes is. all VERY yay!
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afrotumble · 14 days
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Oklahoma City Thunder were on this Boeing 757-200 when it was dented mid-flight in 2017 as it took them from Minneapolis to Chicago.
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:3
WELCOME. You know I couldn’t hold back from giving this horrible, horrible thing it’s own blog. Anyways, here’s all the info you’ll need! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve made a side blog that’s actually supposed to function COUGHCOUGH TBOCI please bear with me!!
This is a very, very silly and goofy project called the
~PAPER AIRPLANE SHELLINGTON SAGA~
It’s very simple! We take THIS PNG of a really horribly stretched out Shellington and put him in various locations, as if he is a paper airplane and someone with a really good throwing capability yote him straight through the hull of the ship.
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Fun, right?!
This is entirely for laughs! You may submit/request locations for him to fly to! Our end goal is to get this otter to the edge of the universe!! We’ll get there eventually.
New updates every week on where he is! Have fun folks, blog mod is @hershelwidget so you can also request things from there as well :3
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seniouesbabes · 6 months
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Lily Maymac 🌸🍒💋🌸 Praying for Japan 🙏🏽
So thankful these passengers were saved
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cosmojjong · 2 years
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anyways crazy to think about how pentagon arrived to saudi arabia like. an hour before kcon and the driver even took them to the hotel instead of the venue so they had to run through the traffic to get to the venue and they still had that much energy on the stage, woah. cube needs to get it together though because while it's nice to see the boys at multiple festivals it's in no way humanly acceptable to have to fly from one country to the other back to back with no break in between. how can they put a schedule on the 29th in the ph and then another one on the 30th in south korea is this stupid company not gonna consider things like weather conditions and other possible factors
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xtruss · 3 months
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What Has Happened to Boeing Since the 737 Max Crashes
— By Priyanka Boghani and Kaela Malig | March 13, 2024
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A still from "Boeing's Fatal Flaw," a new FRONTLINE Documentary with The New York Times.
Five years ago, 346 people were killed in two crashes involving Boeing 737 Max planes within the span of almost five months: first off the coast of Indonesia in October 2018 and then in Ethiopia in March 2019.
Boeing’s Fatal Flaw, a 2021 FRONTLINE investigation with The New York Times, examined how commercial pressures, flawed design and failed oversight contributed to those devastating tragedies and a catastrophic crisis at one of the world’s most iconic industrial names.
In recent months, Boeing has come under renewed scrutiny after a door-like panel on a Boeing 737 Max 9 operated by Alaska Airlines blew off just a few minutes after takeoff in January 2024. An updated version of our documentary examines the impact of this latest crisis.
“This was supposed to be one of the most highly scrutinized planes in the world. And here you are with another incident that was risking passengers’ lives,” the Times’ Sydney Ember says in the updated documentary.
Here we take a brief look at what has happened to Boeing since the deadly 2018 and 2019 crashes and the recent Alaska Airlines incident.
Change in Leadership
Dennis Muilenburg had been CEO of Boeing since 2015. In the aftermath of the crashes, he testified before U.S. Senate and House Committees in October 2019, acknowledging the fatal accidents happened “on my watch” and saying he and the company were accountable. He told the House Committee on Transportation and Infrastructure, “If we knew back then what we know now, we would have grounded [the 737 Max] right after the first accident.”
Two months after the congressional hearings, on Dec. 23, 2019, Muilenburg was fired by Boeing. The company described the move as “necessary to restore confidence” in Boeing “as it works to repair relationships with regulators, customers, and all other stakeholders.”
David Calhoun stepped into the role of CEO in January 2020 and continues to fill the position.
A $2.5 Billion DOJ Settlement and Challenges
On Jan. 7, 2021, the Department of Justice announced that Boeing would pay a $2.5 billion settlement, resolving a DOJ charge that the company had conspired to defraud the Federal Aviation Administration’s Aircraft Evaluation Group.
The DOJ’s criminal investigation focused on the actions of two employees who Boeing said in court documents “deceived the FAA AEG” about the Maneuvering Characteristics Augmentation System (MCAS) onboard the 737 Max — a system the DOJ said “may have played a role” in both 737 Max crashes. The DOJ said the employees’ “deception” led to information about MCAS being left out of a key document released by the FAA, as well as airplane manuals and pilot-training materials.
As Boeing’s Fatal Flaw recounts, congressional investigators found internal documents showing that, after Boeing realized the impact MCAS would have on pilot training and FAA certification, some Boeing employees suggested removing all references to MCAS from training manuals.
“Boeing’s employees chose the path of profit over candor by concealing material information from the FAA concerning the operation of its 737 Max airplane and engaging in an effort to cover up their deception,” said David P. Burns, the acting assistant attorney general of the DOJ’s criminal division when the settlement was announced.
The company entered into a deferred prosecution agreement with the DOJ, in which Boeing agreed to pay a nearly $244 million fine, to set up a $500-million fund for the families of people who died in the two crashes, and to pay $1.77 billion to airlines that had been affected by the 20-month grounding of the 737 Max that began in March 2019.
Boeing also agreed to continue cooperating with the DOJ’s Fraud Section on “any ongoing or future investigations and prosecutions” and is required to report any alleged violation of fraud laws by Boeing employees when dealing with foreign or domestic agencies, regulators or airline customers.
Boeing declined FRONTLINE’s request to be interviewed for the documentary. In a statement, the company said safety is its top priority and it has worked closely with regulators, investigators and stakeholders “to implement changes that ensure accidents like these never happen again.”
Former Boeing Pilot Found Not Guilty for Fraud
In October 2021, a federal grand jury criminally indicted Mark Forkner, Boeing’s Former Chief Technical Pilot for the 737 Max Airplane, on fraud charges. Forkner, who became the first and so far only individual to face criminal charges after the two fatal crashes, was accused of providing “materially false, inaccurate and incomplete information” to FAA regulators about flight-control software involved in the 2018 and 2019 crashes. Forkner was later found not guilty of all charges in federal court.
Forkner declined to be interviewed for the documentary, but his lawyer told the Times that his communications with the FAA were honest and that “he would never jeopardize the safety of other pilots or their passengers.”
Lawsuits by Families of Crash Victims
By November 2019, Boeing was facing more than 150 lawsuits filed by families of people who had died in the two crashes — over 50 of the suits stemming from the Indonesian crash and about 100 from the crash in Ethiopia, according to the Associated Press’ review of federal court records.
In July 2020, Boeing told a U.S. federal court that claims related to 171 of the 189 people killed in the Indonesia crash were either partially or fully settled, although the settlements were not publicly disclosed.
As of June 2023, cases related to 68 passengers from the Ethiopian Airlines crash were pending.
The Grounding and Return of the 737 Max 8 and Max 9
In the days after the second 737 Max crashed in March 2019, regulators around the world — from China to the European Union and several other countries — grounded the plane. The U.S. Federal Aviation Administration followed suit on March 13, 2019, after initially saying the planes were safe to fly.
When the FAA retested and approved the 737 Max 8 and Max 9, ending the grounding in November 2020, it required airlines to take the following steps before putting the planes back into service: installing new flight-control-computer and display-system software; incorporating revised flight-crew procedures; rerouting wiring; completing a test of the “angle of attack” sensor system, which had contributed to both the 2018 and 2019 crashes; and performing an operational readiness flight.
The FAA, in conjunction with aviation agencies from Canada, Brazil and the European Union, also concluded that pilots operating the 737 Max would need to complete special training. It is not clear who would pay for this additional training, which reversed one of Boeing’s original sales pitches to airlines for the 737 Max: that the plane would require minimal pilot training.
A December 2020 Senate committee report criticized Boeing and the FAA’s handling of the 737 Max recertification testing, saying that, based on whistleblower information and testimony, it appeared Boeing and FAA officials had “established a pre-determined outcome,” and that Boeing officials “inappropriately coached” test pilots in the MCAS simulator. The report alleged, “It appears, in this instance, FAA and Boeing were attempting to cover up important information that may have contributed to the 737 MAX tragedies.”
The FAA responded at the time, saying: “Working closely with other international regulators, the FAA conducted a thorough and deliberate review of the 737 Max.” The agency added it was “confident” the issues that led to the two crashes had been “addressed through the design changes required and independently approved by the FAA and its partners.”
“We have learned many hard lessons” from the crashes, Boeing said in its own statement at the time. The company said it took the committee’s findings seriously and would continue to review the report in full.
Following the Senate report, families of the 2019 Ethiopian crash victims wrote to the FAA and the U.S. Department of Transportation in a letter dated Dec. 22, 2020, and reviewed by Reuters, asking for the 737 Max approval to be rescinded and for an investigation to “determine whether the MAX recertification process was tainted.”
A Brazilian airline was the first to fly a 737 Max after regulators there followed the FAA in ungrounding the plane. On Dec. 29, 2020 — a week after the families’ letter — the 737 Max flew paying passengers in America for the first time after nearly two years of being grounded. A month later, Europe’s aviation authority also gave the 737 Max clearance to fly.
On Aug. 26, 2021, India lifted its ban on the 737 Max after “closely” monitoring the plane’s performance elsewhere and noting “no untoward reporting.” China, which was the first country to ground Max jets after the deadly crashes, resumed commercial flights with the model in January 2023.
The 737 Max 10
On June 18, 2021, Boeing’s new model 737 Max 10 took to the skies for its first flight. The Max 10 is larger than the Max 8, which was involved in the 2018 and 2019 crashes, and the Max 9. According to Boeing’s technical specs, the Max 10 is 14 feet longer than the Max 8 and can seat a maximum of 230 people, compared to the Max 8’s capacity of 210.
At the time of the test flight, Boeing was already working on additional safety features in the Max 10 requested by European regulators, according to Reuters.
“We’re going to take our time on this certification,” Stan Deal, who became president and CEO of Boeing’s Commercial Airplanes division in October 2019, said at the time of the Max 10’s first flight, according to The Seattle Times. “We’re committed to make further safety enhancements.”’
The FAA cleared the Max 10 to begin test flights, a step towards certification, last November.
Alaska Airlines Plane Incident
On January 5, an Alaska Airlines jet made an emergency landing in Portland, Oregon, after a portion of its fuselage blew out and left a door-sized hole in the side of the aircraft while it was around 16,000 feet in the sky. None of the 171 passengers and six crew members were seriously injured. The FAA temporarily grounded more than 170 Max 9 jets so they could be inspected.
In the aftermath, Boeing CEO David Calhoun has said, “Boeing is accountable for what happened.”
A Feb. 6 preliminary report from the National Transportation Safety Board said that the bolts meant to secure the door-like panel appeared to be missing before the flight.
Later the same month, the FAA released a long-awaited report that found that Boeing’s safety culture has been “inadequate” and “confusing.” The FAA gave Boeing 90 days to come up with a plan to address quality control issues.
The FAA conducted a six-week audit after the Alaska Airlines incident, and on March 4 said that it found Boeing had allegedly failed to comply with manufacturing quality control requirements.
Boeing now faces legal trouble in relation to the Jan. 5 event, including lawsuits filed by passengers and shareholders.
On Feb. 21, Boeing told employees that Ed Clark, who led the 737 program since 2021, would be replaced. The memo announcing Clark’s departure and other changes said the company was focused “on ensuring that every airplane we deliver meets or exceeds all quality and safety requirements.”
The Justice Department has also begun a criminal investigation into Boeing in the aftermath of the Alaska Airlines incident, as reported first by The Wall Street Journal.
“Cultural change doesn’t happen overnight, especially at big corporations like this,” David Gelles, one of the Times reporters featured in Boeing’s Fatal Flaw, says. “If Boeing wants to get back to that place of grandeur where it was for so long one of the most important American companies, it’s going to take not four years, but it might take 14.”
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jcmarchi · 5 months
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What Is the Il-76 Airplane That Recently Crashed in Russia? - Technology Org
New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/what-is-the-il-76-airplane-that-recently-crashed-in-russia-technology-org/
What Is the Il-76 Airplane That Recently Crashed in Russia? - Technology Org
On January 24, a large Russian military transporter Il-76 crashed in the Belgorod region not too far from the border with Ukraine. To date, there is no reliable information about what was inside it or even what modification of the Il-76 it was. In fact, two different registration numbers are being floated on the internet. Regardless, the Il-76 is a big heavy lifter and Russia certainly doesn’t like losing those.
The Ilyushin Il-76 took off for its maiden flight in 1971 and entered service in 1974. Image credit: Igor Dvurekov via Wikimedia (CC BY-SA 3.0)
The Ilyushin Il-76 is a large four-engine plane that took off for its maiden flight in 1971 and entered service in 1974. The Il-76 has civilian versions as well, including commercial freight jets and firefighting planes, but the most famous are military transporters that carry troops and weapons.
The length of the Il-76 is 46.59 m, its wingspan – 50.5 m. Its crew consists of at least 5 people. The Il-76 can reach a max speed of 900 km/h.
The maximum cargo weight of the Il-76 depends on the version. Il-76M can carry 42 tonnes of cargo, Il-76MD – 48 tonnes, and Il-76MD-90A can lift even 60 tonnes. In the Russian forces, these planes often transport soldiers, including paratroopers. But, of course, such planes also transport weapons, equipment, and ammunition.
Interestingly, it is still unknown what exactly crashed on January 24 in the Belgorod region. Two different registration numbers are posted online. It looks like it should have been an Il-76MD. Ukrainian sources previously said the plane may have been carrying missiles for S-300 systems, but the Russians say there were people on board (more specifically, 65 Ukrainian prisoners of war).
Ukrainian aviation expert Valery Romanenko says that such a plane can carry up to 145 soldiers in a single-decker configuration, and about 225 people in a double-decker configuration. This is a really big and capacious plane – its loss in itself is bad news for Russia.
By the way, on the morning of January 24, Russian air defence systems were operating in the Belgorod region, residents reported explosions, and sirens sounded. Some Russian sources reported that the Il-76 was actually shot down by Russian air defences in a friendly fire incident.
It needs to be said that Russian sources have previously attributed the achievements of the defenders of Ukraine to themselves, because they are trying not to cause panic, not to recognize the capabilities of the Ukrainian arsenal. It is hard to believe that such a large plane was mistaken for a drone. In addition, Ukraine confirmed that it shot down the Il-76.
Russia still has hundreds of the Il-76 planes. But even one is a huge loss, because of its cost, crew and the sense of security they previously had while flying over border regions.
Written by Povilas M.
Sources: 24tv.ua, Wikipedia
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flashsbite · 5 months
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southislandwren · 1 year
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I saw pillars and ribbons with my naked eye tonight and I’m supposed to just be normal now? I just lived through a 7.67 KP solar storm and I have to wake up in 6 hours for school? And all this on the second anniversary of one of the most traumatic days of my life. I bet he’s up in the sky and that’s why it was so good tonight
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nibbelraz · 6 months
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I completely forgot about the second "Daddy Airplane" incident
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its-avalon-08 · 2 months
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hi !! can you do headcanons max verstappen X senna’s daugther!reader?
thank uuuu
hii !!! if i were to imagine senna's daughter!reader she would be so talented. she isn't a driver because of her built up trauma. (im fully aware that the timelines don't add up, don't add logic into it <3) she is an aerodynamic engineer, mainly responsible for making the car. she is secretly in love with speed and racing.
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max and y/n met when they were just kids. max was a menace on track and y/n was terrified of racing. she saw speeding cars as a reminder of her father's passing. being good friends, y/n has a tradition of kissing max's helmet as a feeble attempt to keep him safe.
they started dating in 2019, and have been together ever since. y/n being the absolute genius she is, continues to work in redbull and delivers top of the line car designs leading to the dominance as seen on track.
max leaves a single, perfect red tulip on y/n's desk every race weekend, a silent promise to return safely.
y/n hides little notes in max's helmet before qualifying, each one a technical insight phrased like a love letter.
max, despite his aversion to early mornings, wakes up before y/n on important presentations to make her breakfast, his way of calming her pre-work jitters.
y/n, who finds airplanes stressful, uses a calming app max downloaded for her whenever they travel together.
max, after a particularly grueling race weekend, finds y/n curled up on the couch with a book about aerodynamics. he joins her, listening intently as she explains a new concept she's been working on, his full attention the sweetest victory lap.
max knows how deeply the lack of a father figure affected her, causing under-confidence and a constant need of validation. max knows this and never stops giving her words of affirmations.
everyone of the grid adores y/n. they see her spirit and her beautiful face reflect senna's in so many ways. max is fiercely protective of y/n, often defending her from questions about her father and his death.
y/n hates jos verstappen from the bottom of her heart. she is not scared of yelling at him when he berates max. she whispers affirmations into max's ears after a bad race (which was rare but not impossible)
when max crashes, y/n is the first to suffer from the highest intensity of a panic attack. she shivers and trembles until max gets out safely. after the crash in 2021 with hamilton which caused max to fall over in the medical center, y/n angirly stormed towards the cheerful hamilton, shouting angrily.
here's what happened ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓
the smile evaporated as y/n marched towards him. it wasn't a walk, it was a storm surge. "congratulations? you call pushing max off the track at 200 mph congratulations?" her voice, usually calm and collected, was a tightly leashed fury. lewis blinked, his smile morphing into something defensive. "it was a racing incident, y/n. we both went for the corner." her voice cracked. "racing incident? you call leaving him stranded on the gravel, risking his life, a racing incident? do you have any idea what it's like to watch someone you love walk away from a fireball?" the room held its breath. lewis's face paled. "y/n, i…" "no, you don't," she cut him off, her voice thick with emotion. "you don't get to pretend you know what it's like to see your dreams vanish in a cloud of smoke. you don't get to understand the terror of every single corner, every single race because you haven't lost anyone on this damn track!" tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the accusing stare she fixed on him. "max is more than a rival, lewis. he's a friend, a teammate, a human being. and today, you gambled with his life for a trophy." the silence stretched, suffocating. finally, lewis spoke, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "y/n, i… i didn't…" "you didn't think," she finished the sentence for him, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "just like some people never think about the consequences of their actions." turning on her heel, she stormed out of the room, leaving behind a stunned silence and a champion stripped of his celebratory air. as y/n reached the red bull garage, she found max emerging from the medical center, a sheepish grin on his face. relief washed over her, so strong it brought her to her knees. max rushed to her side, his concern a warm balm on her raw emotions. he held her close, whispering reassurances into her hair.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!
leave a like! leave a note!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
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idiopath-fic-smile · 8 months
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i make no promises, like i genuinely don't have any real ideas for scenes after this one, but uh here is more Singin' in the Rain ot3, continuing from here. they're not even on the honeymoon boat yet! but for whatever it's worth, there are shenanigans.
Here was another thing Cosmo had failed to predict: Don was a nervous flier. 
Cosmo had been up in the air a handful of times; Archibald owned a small personal craft that he flew sometimes on the weekends. And sure, it was cold and noisy and there was no denying that watching the ground disappear below you could give a guy a bad case of the stomach lurches, but it was a thrill all the same. An adventure, he thought, burrowing deeper into the very warm wool coat he’d had the presence of mind to bring. Don was generally up for an adventure; he’d once ridden a motorcycle full speed off a high canyon and fallen ten stories into the water below, for nothing but a day’s wages and an approving nod from the director.
The airplane offered comfortable seats and tables and fashionable cold salads served by very calm stewardesses, but from the moment of liftoff, Don sat there like a man waiting for the electric chair. Now he was clutching the armrests so tightly, the knuckles stood out sharp and white against his normally very appealing hands. 
“We should have taken the train,” said Kathy.
“Nonsense,” Don gritted out. “I’m fine. This is all perfectly fine.”
Belted in on either side of him, Kathy and Cosmo exchanged a look. One of the benefits, thought Cosmo, to being the funny little friend and not the leading man was that you were allowed to admit when you were terrified, at least a little, at least if you could make it a joke.
“I’m so sorry, Don,” Kathy said. “I should have asked if you’ve been in one of these before. Even knowing we’re perfectly safe, a train would’ve been so much more comfortable.”
Don closed his eyes. “Really, Kathy,” he said, a little more sharply. “You don’t need to—” The plane dropped several feet, and he swallowed hard.
Cosmo considered the situation. The facts were these: Don Lockwood was too proud, and too enamored with his wife, to be willing to discuss such a weakness in front of her, and now if somebody didn’t act fast, the three of them were in for an awkward, unpleasant flight. Or rather, series of flights, since the plane was going to need to refuel a couple of times along the way.
There was nothing else for it; Cosmo would have to save the day.
He took in Don’s ashen complexion and Kathy’s guilty face, and then he said cheerfully,
“Y’know, Kathy, for what it’s worth, Don actually has been in one of these before.” When this failed to earn any real response from the man, Cosmo poked him in the cheek. “Haven’t you, Don?”
“What?” said Don distractedly, swatting the finger away. “No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have.”
Don’s tense brow creased for a moment in irritation. “I think I’d remember—” he started.
“It was for one of those early stunting gigs,” said Cosmo. “A little biplane. They gave you goggles and an aviator hat and a brown leather jacket—” The incident stuck in Cosmo’s mind mostly because Don had looked very good in that jacket, but there were half a dozen reasons nobody needed to know that, “—and then they had you crash the plane through a barn.”
“Through a barn?” Kathy repeated, disbelieving, because apparently the fan magazines didn’t tell you everything after all.
“Into, not through,” said Don. “I didn’t come out the other side.” His fingers had relaxed ever so slightly on the poor armrests. “And that doesn’t count, that contraption never got off the ground, I only had to—”
“Into a barn?” Kathy interjected. “Why?”
Cosmo stuck a mock-pensive pose. “The things we do for art. And five dollars. And I think the producers let him keep the jacket.”
They had; Cosmo had suffered that autumn.
“Well, what about common sense,” said Kathy, “and human rights, and basic safety?”
“I said he had goggles on, didn’t I?” 
The truth was, back in those days, no matter how dangerous the feat, how seemingly impossible the stunt, Cosmo had never truly worried. It was Don, and Don could do anything. Except admit to his wife that he needed help, apparently.
“What about—about dignity,” she went on, and Cosmo snorted.
“I regret to inform you that Lady Dignity will not be making an appearance tonight.”
“Cosmo,” said Kathy, slowly, “Why in the world did you let Don do a thing like that?”
“Let?” Don and Cosmo said in unison, Don a little weakly but it was something.
“Don’t pin this on me, madam,” Cosmo added, “I am not my brother’s keeper.”
“Not my brother at all,” Don muttered, which stung a little, but Cosmo decided to let it slide in the face of how his plan was working.
“That’s hardly the worst thing we did for money,” Cosmo said instead. “Has Don told you much about our ignoble days on the road?”
Kathy shook her head, delighted. Don very discreetly kicked Cosmo in the shin. Things were looking up.
.
“So there we are,” said Cosmo, “performing in this tiny hamlet in Nebraska called, I kid you not, Oatmeal—”
“Oatmeal?” Kathy laughed.
Don had freed his fingers from the armrests entirely; he was now resting his entire face in his hands. He was no longer pallid as Nosferatu; in fact, he might have been blushing.
“It was Coyoteville,” Don volunteered without looking up.
“Pal, if you think I’d forget a place with a name like Oatmeal, Nebraska—”
“If you think I’d forget a place with a name like Coyoteville—”
“Coyoteville was in New Mexico!” said Cosmo. “Coyoteville was where we had to bunk with that ventriloquist, remember?” He watched as Don sat up and snuck a look at Kathy, who was clearly having a ball.
“The one who insisted his dummy got its own bed?” Don said with a slight smile.
“Don and me had to sleep on a twin mattress on the floor,” said Cosmo, “Curled up like a pair of puppies, if you can picture that—”
“I think so,” said Kathy, leaning forward, eyes bright, “only what happened in Oatmeal?”
“Wait, was Oatmeal where—” Don started.
“Yes! We’re about halfway through our routine, singing and hoofing our hearts out—fit as a fiddle and ready for love—when we look off to the side, at the next act waiting in the wings and we see—”
Don laughed. “You’re right, we were onstage when we realized it!”
“—at more or less the same time, I think—”
“Yes?” said Kathy.
“—the Amazing Dancing Daisy, the headliner following us—”
“Nobody had bothered to explain to us that she was a trained donkey,” Cosmo explained. “We were literally opening for an ass.”
“How was she?” Kathy managed, once she had more or less gotten her wild laughter under control. “The dancing, I mean?”
“Her footwork was a little sloppy,” said Don.
“Don’s just cross,” said Cosmo confidingly, “because she got much more applause than us.”
“They kept throwing her flowers!” said Don. “What was she meant to do with them? She didn’t even have hands!”
“So listen, Kathy.” Cosmo leaned way over Don to make eye contact with her. “The next time you two are having some sort of petty domestic squabble, if Don tries to act all high and mighty, just remember: I’m pretty sure your lawfully wedded husband is still, deep down, jealous of a donkey.”
Don grabbed Cosmo’s shoulder and flashed him a mock-scowl. “Why, when we get back on solid land…”
“I’m not afraid of you, villain,” said Cosmo, “not with your lady love here.” He stretched out an arm to Kathy. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”
“Of course, good sir,” said Kathy, genteelly taking his hand and it was a joke, it was ridiculous, it was all completely harmless because Cosmo was hardly a threat to their marriage, and so Cosmo ducked his head and fluttered his lashes at her, and cooed,
“How shall I ever repay you?”
And then, without breaking eye contact, Kathy brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it, just a quick, warm, press of lips, entirely chaste but somehow something different, and Cosmo darted a nervous glance at up Don—he was practically in Don’s lap at this point, to better reach out to Don’s wife—because threat or not, there had to be some kind of line Cosmo was crossing. But Don was just watching them, with parted lips and slightly glazed eyes, as if it was not at all upsetting to see his girl and his best friend doing…whatever it was they were doing, and this moment was rapidly sliding away from any point of reference Cosmo might’ve had. 
Normally, Cosmo liked other people’s eyes on him. That was half the reason anyone was in showbiz, wasn’t it? Nobody might’ve looked at him twice in the street but with the right props and a couple of dance moves, he could be somebody for the length of a number or two, spread a little joy and get a lot of it back. So it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Don looking at him and Kathy like that. It was just—it was too much, too close to something he might’ve dreamed up alone in his bed at night. He hadn’t, but that was mostly because he’d lacked the imagination.
Cosmo freed himself, twisted back upright, and coughed. “On second thought,” he said. “I think the ventriloquist was in Dead Man’s Fang, in Arizona? Coyoteville was where that strongman threw up inside Don’s fiddle.”
“How did he manage to—” Kathy sounded sincerely perplexed. She’d left a coral pink lip print on the back of Cosmo’s hand. He tugged his coat sleeves down to his fingertips.
“Sheer determination,” said Cosmo.
796 notes · View notes
khuzena · 3 months
Text
Just a coworker
Dr ratio x g/n!reader (i tried)
Part 1, Part 2
cw. angst, super slow burn, they eventually get tgt, hurf/comfort, jealousy brr, reader is unhinged, mentions of drugs, kinda cringe but who cares I've written worse, not proofread, dr ratio is a pussy
a/n: I HATE LIFE SJNAANAN
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A week passed and you got the jist of it, you were already done with the basics but everytime that man always found a reason to keep tutoring you.
You were grading some papers until you felt someone looming over you and snooping around your laptop.
“Hey!”
“Do you really need to shout?”
You hid your laptop away from him as he pried for any more info, causing you to kick his leg.
“Who’re you talking to?”
“Why the hell would you care? Plus im grading some papers, you asshole”
You typed away as he didn't leave your side, just watching you input some values— damn one of your students got a 2/100? Might as well make them repeat a grade.
“Which idiot fails literature? More or less just essay writing?”
“Uh…”, you paused, your other hand getting your coffee and sipping on it, “An illiterate person?”
No other words were shared as you two just sat in silence, him staring at the grading sheet and you typing away on your keyboard.
It was a quiet day, peaceful even. If it weren't for a fight that broke out at the food court. You should mind your business, but your favourite student had been gravely injured; worry comes easy.
You ran to the student, one hand rested on his leg as it bled, “Hey, stay with me— breathe.”
Your student, Mike, had been buying some coke from some guy in your coworker’s class, turns out Mike got scammed and well, you did not know the full story to take any full action but the blood shed was enough to panic.
“Mike, Mike!”
You held him, you were not an expert at cpr or had any training on how to deal with that much bleeding or anything about dealing with concussions.
Shit, shit.
“We need a doctor!”
Despite your desperate yelling, none were brave to come forth to help, the others just recording or covering their eyes.
What were you supposed to do?
You held onto mike as the others tried to restrain the guy that hurt him, this was bad.
Until you saw Veritas buying some coffee at the new coffee shop from weeks ago.
“Hey you!”
Veritas does not flinch, he does not respond.
“DOCTOR VERITAS RA—”
He groaned, about to run away yet you yelling his full name was enough to make him regret not buying earplugs prior to this incident.
He walked up to you and your student as he kneeled at the both of you’s level.
“What exactly happened?”
No matter how much he hates you and your guts, he still has a duty as a doctor.
“Some asshole beat him up, fuckin’ hell”
He doesn't say anything, before laying Mike down in a more comfortable position and getting a pill from his pocket.
“What's that?”
“Tylenol”
He forced open Mike's mouth and shoving down a pill.
“Isn't that a tad bit aggressive?” Mike was near choking as you patted his back and elevated his seating position.
“So it's better to airplane the pill in his mouth like he's 2 and let him die then?”
“That's not what I meant.” you sneered before some guys from the medical department ran to your side and took care of it.
Now you two were just standing behind the infirmary door and waiting for any update.
“I'm going to miss my class because of you.”
You laughed, the audacity of this man?
“Then go, I didn't ask you to stay.”
It's so hard to read this man when he has his alabaster head on, you can't even tell what he's thinking.
“You talk too much”
“You started it!”
“Just stop talking”
“Whatever.”
You peaked through the window and saw Mike unconscious on his bed, even though it wasn't your fault, it feels like it is…
You sighed as the nurse left the room, standing still before she spoke, “He's fine. It's good that you and Dr. Ratio was there.”
“Uhh yeah…”
You really didn't do much…
Veritas stayed silent as the nurse left, he's not one to like small talk.
“huff… huff… finally.”
You raised an eyebrow, before registering whose voice it was, your eyes lighting up.
“Amir!”
“Whew… I had to end class early, I learned about what happened too late.”
“It's not your fault”
Amir sighed while leaning so ungodly close to you, before Veritas had some audacity left in him to make a comment, “Actually, it is.”, he really has no shame does he?
“I apologise.”
“Now you're just being rude.”
Veritas turned away, can't that man just leave you both alone?
“I don't care. It was both your student's that got into this mess.”
“I have over a hundred students, how could I monitor all of them?”
“Yet you still have to take responsibility for it. I can't believe you let it get to that level.”
“Then leave, if you're just gonna be rude then shut up.”
Amir's jaw hung when he heard you literally tell the Dr. Ratio himself to shut it, not even the people from the IPC would have this level of audacity. It was your last straw, you've already dealt with enough bullshit for the day.
Usually, he would have some snarky reply up in his sleeves but what's crazy is that he just walked away.
“Did you just—”
“I did.”
“Wow.”
You were already about to go home as it was getting late, who knew having to shoulder the aftermath of that fight would be that tiring? No shit sherlock.
Peace and quiet, no one to bother you—
“You there.” that familiar voice echoing in the hallways as loud stomps were nearing your direction.
You spoke too soon. Why him of all people?
“You didn't come to today's tutoring session.”
You crossed your arms, looking up at him. Wow. He wasn't wearing his alabaster head? Can't say that it's new but the opportunity to stare at his face was a rare occurrence. But, he infuriates you too much that you'd rather kiss mud than oogle at him.
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’? I was waiting for you.”
You eyed him up and down, he did look upset. But did he really think you'd have the energy to confront him, much less see him after what happened today?
“I told you I wouldn't be able to attend tutoring lessons as I have someone to tutor too”
“When did you say that?”
“Two days ago?”
He was baffled, utterly baffled. When did you say that? You must be lying. Despite his stone head obstructing you from any chance to see him right now, by his voice, he was fuming.
He crossed his arms, his right foot tapping aggressively, “I do not recall you saying that.”
“But I did.”, his eyebrows furrowed as you spoke with clear conviction, what do you mean you did?
“You should've told me.”
“I did.”
“Then— why are you being so difficult?”
“It's not me who's being difficult, why are you even mad?”
Like that, the words at the tip of his tongue vanished. Exactly, why was he so worked up?
“You're just using this as an excuse to not deal with the issue.”
You had enough of his bullshit. You started to walk the other way but he just couldn't leave you alone.
“And what if I am? Get lost.”
“We need to talk.”
You turned your heel and faced him, face red and hot then you pointed at him,
“About what? About how sure it's absolutely my fault about what happened today, I'm an idiot, I don't know anything!”
“Now you're just blowing the issue up into something completely different.”
“What else is there to say?”
“You—”
He got silent, biting his lip under that stone head as his temper got the best of him.
“You really are an idiot.”
“Just leave me alone.”
There were no other words exchanged as you walked away, your footsteps getting more faint as a second, another one and another pass.
He shook his head at your outburst, you really were an idiot, incompetent and… whatever. At least now that blabbermouth always peering over his shoulder is gone.
As you walked home, you couldn't help but cry. There was nothing to cry over but it was too much. The heads berating you for not paying attention to your students, that a scandal like that could ruin the university— to hell with that shit, to hell with that university.
At least you felt safe, at home, with the company of your cats.
“Meow?”
Ah.
You hugged your cat, its fur getting wet as tears dripped, you were starting to taste the saline tears as it creeped into the corners of your lips.
Your phone rang with notifications from the doctor, Wait— how'd he even get your number? shit. But god won't he just leave you alone?
With a click, the notifications died down leaving only your quiet sniffles and your cat’s purr to be heard in the living room.
You didn't have any energy to eat, to hell with your health.
You turned off the lights and plopped into your bed, your cat joining you (yay) as the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room.
You let out a yawn, turning the lights off but there was a call notification.
‘From Unknown Number’
You felt the urge to swipe and listen to what he had to say, but it's probably bullshit.
You fell asleep.
[From Unknown Number.]
:hey.
:answer me.
:stop being so difficult and just give me 3 minutes.
:Are you there?
:idiot.
:hey.
[99 more unread messages]
Time flies, three days flew by already yet it still feels like yesterday. You feel like shit, yeah the issue has been resolved, everything's fine but why did something just feel so wrong?
It was a good rest though, bless that lady who allowed you to have a few days off.
[From Unknown Number]
:I know you're seeing this.
:Stop acting like a child.
:Come on.
:You moron.
[231 more unread messages]
Phew, when you entered the faculty room, there was no Veritas in sight. Good, good.
You laid down your satchel on your desk and readied some stuff before heading out, making sure to check all hallways before you make a move; don't want to see the Doctor so early in the morning. (checking every hallway 24/7? What is this? Fnaf?!?)
Things were uncannily peaceful today, did he not come to work today? Or… Maybe you just got really lucky that you both did not cross paths for today.
“And,” you wrote diligently on the whiteboard, “That ends our discussion for today.”
The time ticked to 4:58 pm, you could already see some of your students pack their things.
“Any questions?”
They all shook their heads no as you finally dismissed them, oh how you missed being in your classroom despite being away for merely 3 days.
Today's a lucky day, no issues, no Veritas Ratio in sight.
“Hey __”
You jolted at the sudden call of your name, your head turning from the sound as you see Amir with a worried expression.
“Oh, Amir?”
So suddenly, he pulled you into a hug.
“What're you doin—”
“I was worried.”
“About?”
“You were no contact with everyone for three days, we were all worried.”
You awkwardly laughed, Amir was a fine man, definitely not your type though. You squirmed away from his hold.
“Yeah, just needed a break”
“Oh, I see.”
He paused, “You good now?”, his tone laced with concern.
“Yeah, at least I think so.”
“That's good.”
Your best friend, he was not stupid. He was intuitive too, he eyed you like you were some sort of experiment and like with any experiment, he's made his hypothesis.
“You don't sound ‘good’”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this about Dr. Ratio?”
Bingo, right on the money. There was no use trying to lie to him, especially not after chuckling awkwardly when you got caught.
You nodded, confirming his guess, “Knew it.”
He was in deep thought as he tried to think of any and every possibility why.
“Are you guys dating or something?”
You choked on your own spit— him of all people? Is he out of his mind? At this point, the idea of getting with that socially inept man sounds like an insult.
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“Calm down sponge bob squarepants, geez”
You groaned as he handed you a juice box. “Thanks,” you quietly muttered out.
It was 5 pm, by now, everyone's probably clocked out by now.
It's weird, a 5 pm where you don't get tutor lessons from him.
Whatever, food for thought.
As you left the faculty room, a small part in you wanted to catch a glimpse of him despite you trying to avoid him. Did you miss him? or was just not being alone at these hours too comforting?
He wasn't there. As expected.
The next day, you see Veritas, you two walk past each other, he did not spare you a glance.
“Doctor…”
Wind breezes through the both of you but you stood still as he kept walking to his class. How cold.
It was no use trying to confront him, atleast, not here.
For a second, your gaze softened but you quickly got back to your senses. This feeling was strange.
The bell rang and, as usual, everyone left. What a fulfilling job.
This week has been really quiet. Peaceful but something was missing. Your life was fun, not this mundane even before Veritas but a part of you looks for him. No no, you were just being insane or something.
The faculty room door slid open, then, just as you wished would never happen (oh really?) Veritas was at you guys’ usual tutoring spot.
You wanted to run but your bag was there. Mustering up the courage, you tiptoed and grabbed your satchel, it felt like playing a horror game with how stealthy you were trying to be.
Shit.
Your pen fell, hopefully it didn't catch his attention.
Just as you were about to go grab it, he took it and handed it to you.
You gulped and took the pen, wanting to run but you froze on the spot.
“You look stupid trying to act stealthy.”
You didn't reply, only gulping nervously as you stayed still.
“What? Say something.”
Truth is, you had nothing to say.
“Sigh, you really like making things so difficult, don't you?”
He doesn't stop you from leaving, but maybe it was you stopping yourself from leaving.
An awkward silence ensued, it was getting annoying, for him, atleast.
“Aren't you going to leave?”
You don't say anything, just standing still, again.
“Answer me.”
Why did you enter the room?
“...” Veritas walked up to you, his codex not in hand as leaned closer.
“Give me 3 minutes.”
He raised your chin with a finger, face unreadable despite his alabaster head gone. It's the third or fourth? You've lost count how many times you saw his real face. Your memory was shit.
“I just want to talk about how…”
He bit his lip, yet his eyes remained fixed on your blank expression.
“That I want to apologise for my behaviour last week.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
That same old silence, he couldn't find the right words, he doesn't know how to say sorry.
“Well…”
“Well?”
Did he stutter? That's odd; very.
“I…” His eyes leave yours, he's practised saying it but it's the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, “I'm…”
Curious eyes gaze into his conflicted ones. Can he even say it?
“So…” sorry.
“I'm sorry.”
You stare at him with shock, did he just apologise?
“Did I hear that right?”
“God damn it.”
He pulled away and walked away to his desk but you followed him, “Hey, did you mean it?”
“Why wouldn't I?”
He knew you'd react like this, he expected you to laugh, mock him or anything but you just look at him with a look of shock—
“I see.”
—And somewhat relieved of what he said.
“I'm sorry too.” He was envious of how easily you spoke those words, you were no genius, yet you were better than him at apologising.
“I shouldn't uh—”
“I just want to say that—”
You cleared your throat, licking your lips in anxiety, “You go first”
“No you—”
“No, you.”
He hung his head low, before looking in your direction.
“It was uncalled for me to treat you and that man that way.”
“I'm listening.”
“I didn't take into account that you both were probably stressed from the situation and…”
He couldn't find the words, nothing was new to him. Complex maths? Easy. Medicine? Easy. Philosophy? Done. History? Is this a joke? He knows everything!
Other than one thing.
“I'm sorry.”
Apologising.
His words brought you immense relief, it was your turn to speak. For the first time, you can read his face. He looked pitiful. Did he not get enough sleep lately?
“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you.”
How could you just have the knack to be so… Human? That, he couldn't understand. Being genuine, felt new.
“I understand.”
“What now?”
He fixed his books on the shelf, the ones he wanted to share with you.
“I dont know.”
“I thought you knew everything?”
He rolled his eyes as you teased him for it, he shouldn't have apologised.
“Stop talking, and also.”
He handed you some wipes, what was it for?
“Your hand,” you looked down at your dominant hand, seeing whiteboard marker creases, “Clean it up.”
“Oh okay.”
You wiped the stains off, but you wondered how perceptive he was. You didn't even notice it yourself.
“How's the tutor lesson with your student?”
Ah, that guy. It's been long since you've finished tutoring him with the basics.
“Went smoothly, he passed his exam”
He hummed, he finished tidying up his desk, good that you listened to his lectures.
“What did you teach him?”
“Until just page 25”
“Huh?”
But you studied the entire book with him, if you just needed help with just page 25, the tutor session would've only taken a week.
“Did you just keep going to the tutor sessions to see me?”
“Maybe, maybe not”
A soft smile creeped up in your face as you saw him short circuit for a bit before regaining his senses.
“You jest”
“I do not.”
“So… When's the next session?”
“At my place, tonight. It's getting late.”
Oh? At his place? What a bold offer—
“Just reviewing?”
“Just reviewing.”
You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the two of you leaving the faculty room.
“Under one condition.”
You raised an eyebrow, what was he asking for now?
“A date.”
“Pardon?”
“Do I have to repeat myself?”
You choked on your spit, that's absurd— god.
“No, I heard you. Fine.”
“Agreeing that easily?”
“Do you want me to refuse?” He was starting to get cocky, might as well drag him back down to earth.
“No, you still need to learn more about Quantum Mechanics.”
“Fine.”
Veritas pulled you close to him as you both walked the sidewalk, isn't he such a gentleman?
“The tab's on you?” no way were you paying the tab, he better pay it.
He scoffed, he could feel you hold onto his arm as he made sure you were on the right side of the lane to protect you of some sort.
“Whatever, you moron. Hurry up, we still have so much to review.”
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A/N: its so bad wtf😭😭😭😢
277 notes · View notes
hopelesslys-world · 10 months
Text
STOCKHOLM SYNDROME | CH. 6
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, Age Gap ( Massimo is 34 reader is 20 ), sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (both female and male), yandere themes, stalking, KIDNAPPING, violence, harsh language, murder...
Tell me if I missed something... ( As you can see most of those warnings will make their appearance in future chapters. )
I apologize for any grammar mistakes...not edited
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐈́𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔́𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 problems. The driver opened the door for Massimo while you were stuffing your things into your bag—they must have spilled out to the seat during the drive. Massimo rounded the car and opened the door on your side, offering you a hand. He was being very gallant, and in that linen suit of his, he looked simply overpowering.
As both of your feet touched the ground, he discreetly grabbed your ass, pushing you gently toward the entrance. You sent him a shocked glance—that was behavior worthy of an adolescent boy. But he only smirked, sliding his hand up to your back and leading you to the terminal.
That son of bitch...
You’d never had all the check-in formalities done so fast. All you had to do was pass through the building. When you emerged on the other side, another car picked the two of you up and drove you to a small plane.
As much as you enjoyed this whole process of being in an airplane, you couldn't help but be nervous and make your heart stop pounding.
You sat down on a plush leather couch, Massimo soon joined you sitting dangerously closer than you liked. A bottle of champagne arrived but you paid no mind to it wanting to get over with this flight in a calm and quick way as possible.
With Massimo on your side though your whish seemed utterly impossible...
His hand rested behind your hand, not touching you, just settling on the couch. His leaning towards you was obvious as hell, however you knew very well where this was leading.
"You know...I can't get off my head the image of you naked in the shower this morning." he said in a low seducing tone that made your heart pound faster each passing second.
You blushed heavy crimson from embarrassment and shyness and turned your head away from his close face. "No need to be shy with me now, princess. There's no shame wanting to get high in pleasure..." His fingers touched your chin making you look at him, your faces inches away from each other. "...What's a real shame is denying what you feel. You know that I'll be more than happy to provide you with everything you'll need."
Massimo's hand moved from your chin slowly down to your leg, sneaking in your bare skin from your skirts cut giving you strokes in the inside of your thighs that every now and then neared so close to your cunt.
As much as you wanted to give in, your untouched pussy was becoming wet with arousal, however, the incidents happening a few days prior kept your guard up and your reputation high. "No. I can't..." Your hands grabbed his and shoved it away from your thigh.
The Man in Black sigh heavily plopping back to his seated position. "You're making this harder than it has to be Y/N. It doesn't have to be this way." He declared in disappointment shaking his head in disapproval.
You tried. You tried really hard to keep your thoughts to yourself, Massimo provoked you all the fucking time it was impossible!
"Well, excuse me that I don't want to sleep with the man I know for a week, to be more specific the man who kidnapped me." You smiled sweetly at him, then your face got all pouty again.
He scoffed, you could imagine him rolling his eyes at you. "You need to move on, princess. You pouted enough already don't you think? You were so good and obedient today... don't ruin my mood...I want to reward you. Will you be my good girl?"
Massimo pulled you closer leaving a kiss on shoulder his hand behind you caressed your neck softly—teasingly with his fingers as his lips left kitten kisses which trailed upward, to your neck, to your throat and lastly your jawline before his movements came into a halt.
You needed to stop him, you had to stop him, you couldn't let this happen it wasn't right.
What the hell changed!? Just like this morning you despised him and then you wanted to have sex with him!? It doesn't make sense! Nothing makes sense anymore!
Was the sexual provoke too much? Or was it something else ... something deeper? Stockholm Syndrome perhaps. You've heard of this lot's of times from your friend who studied phycology... must be it.
"Answer me baby." He whispered.
Hesitantly, you nodded. Not wanting to awaken a heated argument.
"Use your mouth, baby girl. I want to hear you say it." Massimo looked you in the eyes, his dark brown eyes became completely black with lust and need.
"I will." You replied quietly, obviously meaning it untill he crossed another line.
"Come with me." The Man in Black said eagerly.
He stood up then lifting you up, he lead you in a corridor which was getting narrower in this part of the plane. Massimo had to turn sideways to squeeze through. You entered a dark room with a bed in the middle.
You have to be stupid to not realise where this was going. It was entirely your fault, you let the strings too loose and got his confidence to get laid with you too high.
As soon as he closed the door he attacked your lips in a raw, desperate, way. Catching you surprised, your hands shot to his broad chest pushing him away but he didn't budge at all. Instead his tongue found yours, kissing you more passionately.
The back of your knees found the mattress and the Man in Black slowly lowered you to the soft sheets.
His lips left your mouth and attacked your neck leaving behind red marks in very visible spots. You had to act quick, he didn't even know that you were a virgin. You knew that this wouldn't be a pleasant experience, he was too fierce and worked up to be gentle.
"Massimo, please stop. You have to stop." You begged breathless by his hungry kisses.
"Tell me the real reason. Tell me why you won't let me have you. I know that you desire it as much as I do. Tell me." Massimo demanded.
Should you answer him? Probably, it was time he knows the truth anyway. Maybe he'll stop being so impatient and shameless.
"I've... I've never...done something like this before..." You admitted with your cheeks turning beetroot red.
It was obvious that he was shocked, definitely expecting another reason to your hesitance. His surprised expression turned into a smirk, "Aw, are you still a virgin? Poor baby, doesn't know what she's missing..." He bit his lip.
"Ugh, stop it already." You said in embarrassment turning your body away from him.
Massimo pinned you back to your previous position, "You might think that I'll quit wanting you, but I never step back from such a challenge... And to know that I'll be the first and only to claim you...fuck...you can't imagine how hard I am for you baby girl. Don't worry I'll teach you everything, I'll as gentle as I can, promise."
Despite your fear, you always wanted to do it, you were just too scared.
He started kissing you again this time a little more softly, his trail of pecks reached downwards again, to your line of breasts stopping altogether to take your skirt off you.
You lay still, squeezing your legs together, debating with yourself if you wanted to continue or not.
“Massimo, I'm not sure—” you started.
“I'll make you feel so good. Don’t be afraid, baby girl,” he said, pushing his hand between your legs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
You squeezed your legs together even harder, whining softly with fear. “Shush,” he whispered. “I will part your legs now and start with just one finger. Relax.”
You knew he’d do as he was saying whether you wanted it or not. So you attempted to relaxed. “Good, just like that. Now spread those legs wide for me.”
You shyly did as you were told only that you slightly unsqueezed them
“You’ll be a good girl and do what I say now. I don’t want to hurt you.” Delicately, he started to kiss you on the lips while his hand slid down. With his other hand, he held your head, deepening the kiss. You yielded, and an instant later, your tongues were dancing, quicker and quicker. It was the first time you've allow this to happen.
“So good for me,” he breathed into your ear as his hand reached the fabric of your panties. “I love how obedient your are. Now, be still and don’t move.”
Massimo’s fingers slipped into the most intimate spot of your body which no one else have touched before. Slowly, with his lips right next to your ear, he explored further inside of your thighs, gently stroking them with two fingers, teasing you.
He rubbed your clit and you let out a breathless moan, he stroked up and down collecting and producing more arousal making a slippery little mess. Finally Massimo slid inside your unused pussy. It hurt a tiny bit, you hissed at the new sensation and squirmed relentlessly.
“So fucking tight. Don’t move and be silent. Do you understand?”
You nodded whimpering. His finger sank deeper, until it was all the way in. You clenched your teeth, trying to remain silent, while he started to move, subtly and sensually, inside you. His middle finger slid in and out, while his thumb softly fondled your clit. Your eyes closed and felt his weight subsiding and then shifting downward. You stopped breathing. His finger didn’t stop.
Massimo reached his destination. Suddenly, he slipped his finger out, making you wince. But then you felt his breath through your panties and your heart beat faster and harder.
“I’ve dreamed about it since I first saw you. I want you to talk to me when I start. Tell me if I’m doing it good. Direct me. I want to give you your first ecstasy,” he breathed, pulling your undergarment down your legs.
On instinct, you brought your legs together, embarrassed.
“Spread them wide for me. I want to see you.”
You appreciated his gentleness, the fact that he wanted you to feel more comfortable during your first intercourse. You slowly did as he told you and heard him inhaling deeply. He spread your legs wider, piercing you with his gaze, sinking deeper into you most intimate, secretive places.
“Touch me,” you moaned, unable to keep quiet anymore. “Please...”
Hearing that, he started steadily rubbing your clit, leaned down and sank his tongue in your wet cunt, his movements dynamic. You grabbed his hair pulling roughly, head rolled back at the new euphoric feeling. With the fingers of one hand he spread the lips of your pussy, wanting to reach that most sensitive spot.
“I want you to come, and I want to torture you with more orgasms until you beg me to stop. I want you to look at me. I want to see your face as you come, again and again.”
“Open your eyes Y/N” he demanded his mouth and fingers stopped.
Between your legs, Massimo was at the same time sexy and terrifying. He swooped in again, his lips caressing my clit, and two of his fingers impaled you. You closed your eyes, feeling pressure on your lower stomach.
“Massimo,” you whimpered.
His fingers kept stroking expertly, while his tongue never stopped.
“Kurwa mać!” You shouted in you native tongue as you came for the first time in your life. The orgasm was long and strong, overwhelming. Your body was taut like a string, trapped by what Massimo was doing. When you felt the orgasm subside, he rushed at your exhausted, tender, and sensitive clit again, almost painfully. You clenched your teeth until they grated, squirming—impaled by his two fingers.
“Please, no more...” your voice was weak cried after the next wave of painful bliss overcame you.
The Man in Black slowly relented, let your body cool down, softly kissed and stroked all the places that were hurting now. Your hips collapsed to the mattress when he was finished. As you lay still, he slowly pushed himself up, reached for the nightstand, fishing out a box of wet wipes. Gently he wiped the spots he had been attacking with such passion just a moment ago.
“See, I kept my promise this time,” he winked, and disappeared back into the main compartment.
You kept still for a moment longer, analyzing everything, but you couldn’t believe what had just happened. You only knew two things; that you were so sore now and that surely the feeling of regret washed over you.
Fuck, you regretted that stupid decision! What had gotten into you and allowed him to do this!? A stay tear escaped however you were quick to wipe it away.
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When you returned, Massimo was sitting in his seat, biting his upper lip lost in thought.
You sat down opposite him awkwardly, having no idea how to act around him anymore.
“So... what are our plans for today?” you asked quietly.
He smiled and poured another glass of champagne handing it to you.“You’ll learn in time. I’ll do some business and you’ll get to play the mobster’s girl,” he said, boyish amusement illuminating his face.
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When you landed, a pair of black SUVs and a whole security team was already waiting for you. One of the men opened the door for you, then shut it as you made yourself comfortable in your seat. Each time you saw those cars, you thought they held a little bit of magic—the way they moved all that stuff from place to place. How did those guys and those cars manage to keep pace with Massimo?
What broke your chaotic reverie, probably fueled by all those orgasms, were the words of your oppressor, uttered into your ear.
“I can't wait to be inside you,” he whispered, and his hot breath paradoxically chilled you to the bone. “To deflower that pretty tight pussy of yours. I’d like to feel your wet cunt close around my cock.”
Your breath hitched suddenly at his filthy words. You chose not reply and instead close your eyes and try to calm down the frantic beat of my heart. It grew a bit steadier. Out of nowhere, Massimo’s warm breath vanished, and you heard him saying something to the driver. The words were unintelligible, but after a few seconds, the car veered off the road and stopped. The man stepped out, leaving you two completely alone.
“Sit in the passenger seat in the front,” Massimo said, pinning you with his cold, black stare. He didn’t look like he was about to move himself, which seemed a bit strange.
What has gotten into him all of a sudden? Honestly, you didn't know if you could ever be able to handle his roller coaster mood swings...
“Why?” you asked, disoriented.
Massimo’s face took on an expression of annoyance, and his jaw clenched. “I’ll repeat it one last time: move or I’ll move you myself.”
Again, you couldn’t help it—his tone made your hackles rise. You wanted to resist, if only to see where it took you.
“You order me around like a dog. I am no dog.” you inhaled, intending to berate him for treating you like that, but you didn’t manage to utter another word. Massimo pulled you out of the car by force and then threw you into the front seat. He pulled your hands back, behind the backrest.
“Not a dog. A bitch,” he hissed, tying your hands with some kind of strap. Before you realized what was happening, you were sitting tied to the passenger seat, and the Man in Black sat behind the steering wheel. You started to wriggle your fingers, trying to feel your way around, turns out you'll never found out wutb what he tied you with.
“You like to tie women up?” you asked as he was fiddling with some settings on the dashboard.
“It’s not a question of preference in your case.”
He pressed the ignition button and a woman’s voice from the GPS directed him as he started to drive.
“My back hurts. And my arms,” you said after a couple of minutes.
“Well, I’m hurt, too, but for an entirely different reason. Want to compare?”
You knew he was angry or frustrated. You couldn’t differentiate between those two feelings in him, but you had no idea what you had done to cause this. And even if it wasn’t your fault, he was taking it all out on you.
“Ty cholerny, uparty egoisto,” you whispered in Polish. You damned, stubborn egomaniac. “As soon as you untie me, I’ll smack you so hard you’ll have to look for your teeth on the ground,” You ranted, still in Polish.
Massimo slowed down and stopped at a traffic light, turning to you and fixing you with a furious glare. “Now repeat that in English,” he growled.
You smiled disdainfully and spewed a whole litany of profanities in Polish—all directed at him. He didn’t move, but his glare was growing more furious by the second. As soon as the light turned green, he stepped on the accelerator.
“I’ll get rid of your pain. Or at least take your mind off it,” he said, his right hand found his to the cut of your skirt. His left hand was still on the steering wheel, but the right one slipped under your panties.
You squirmed and jerked in your seat, cursing him and begging him not to do it, but it was too late. “Massimo, I’m sorry!” you cried, trying to get out of his reach. “I’m not in pain anymore! And what I said in Polish—”
“Not interested in that anymore,” he said. “But if you don’t pipe down, I’ll have to gag you. I’d like to hear the GPS if you don’t mind, so shut up.”
His hand slid deeper into your underwear, and you felt a wave of panic flooding you. At the same time, you grew completely docile and stopped resisting.
“You promised you wouldn’t do anything against my wishes and be gentle,” you whispered, leaning back.
Massimo’s fingers irritated your clitoris smearing the wetness that slowly appeared by his touch.
“I’m not doing anything against your wishes. I’m just making sure your hands aren’t in pain anymore.” His touch was growing harder, and the circular motions were sending you down the abyss of his absolute power over you, as much as tried to resist it.
You squeezed your eyes shut and reveled in the feeling he was giving you. You knew he was acting on instinct—he had to divide his attention between two things: driving and punishing you.
You squirmed in your seat, when the car suddenly stopped. You felt his hand leaving, you thanked the universe for siding with you this time, not having to satisfy him with you orgasming again.
“We’re here,” Massimo announced, killing the engine.
You stared at him from half-closed eyelids. A voice in your head was screaming, raging and cursing him. You didn’t have to say it aloud. You knew well enough what his motivation had been. He wanted you to beg him. He wanted to show you how much you desired him, despite rebelling against anything and everything he said and did.
"That's great," you replied, rubbing at your wrists. They hurt so much. “I hope whatever was hurting you has stopped,” you said.
Here it was—that big red button in his head again. The Man in Black shot out with an arm, pulling you over himself, so you sat astride him with your back to the steering wheel. He grabbed you by the waist and pressed your cunt against his hard manhood. You gasped at his bold movement, raising your hips so you didn't sit on him.
“What hurts me,” he hissed, his fury threatening to boil over, “is that I haven’t used that mouth and pussy yet.”
His hips met yours again without your permission and were undulating lazily. That movement and the pressure of his penis made you breathless.
“And you won’t for a long, long time yet,” you whispered, “In fact, I have very much regretted what we did back in the plane.” you added deathly serious.
He froze, watching you closely, looking for answers to questions yet unasked, jaw clenched.
Your silent battle was interrupted by knocking on the window. Massimo lowered the glass, revealing the not-too-surprised face of Domenico. That guy certainly looks like he’s seen everything, you thought.
He said a couple of sentences in Italian, ignoring your position, and Massimo shook his head quickly. You had no idea what they were talking about, but it was clear the Man in Black wanted to have nothing to do with what Domenico was suggesting. When they were finished, Massimo opened the door and stepped out, keeping his hold on you.
You headed toward the hotel he had parked the car next to. You were still clutching him—he didn't let you down so you had no other choice, your legs around his hips. You could feel the surprised stares of the other guests as you passed them without a word, Massimo keeping a poker face.
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[ series masterlist ]
TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @lucidlivi , @sousydive , @lightdragonrayne
DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3
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bugmomwrites · 3 months
Text
Weary
Dr Flug x Reader
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Stealing my sister’s bf’s HBO password is the second best thing I’ve done this week. Whipping up a solid drabble in 30 minutes and refining it into a whole oneshot in the same night takes first place.
There’s like, one innuendo towards the end but everything else is straight up fluff. Story came to me after reading yet another shady thing a certain airline I won’t name did, but it sounds like “we ain’t going”. I am changing the names so I don’t end up dead in a van somewhere, but if you know you know ;)
—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•
“…And then what happened?”, Flug yawns, looking up at you through his goggles. You smile gently, kissing the front of the bag where his forehead would be.
“Well, according to some sources…the former production and safety manager’s exact words were ‘if anything happens, I didn’t do it myself’,” you respond, reading the article off your phone. Using the same soft voice you use when you read picture books to a sleepy 505, except it was a news article turned Wikipedia rabbit hole.
You two had gone from listening to him explain the differences between a 767 and an Airvan, to him resting his bagged head in your lap as you click on various entries and articles, bouncing information back and forth. The person, a known whistleblower who had retired from the controversial airline a few years ago, had tried many a time to draw attention to the company’s shady practices. For him to die so suddenly, especially as more inside secrets came to light, was too fishy for the public to ignore.
“I’m no detective, but…”
“Assassination?”, you finished for him, raising a brow. The two of you exchanged knowing looks.
“Does the Dreamweaver have flexible wings?”, he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to bury his head further into your tummy. It tickles, but you try not to laugh lest you disturb his rare peace. Moments like these didn’t happen often, and you knew if any of the others were to see you like this, Black Hat would tear you both a new one, and Demencia would never let you hear the end of it.
A few more minutes go by, occasionally filled in with fun facts about the company’s various other incidents that had made the news in the past. You click off of yet another one where a plane was literally falling apart mid-air, having to make an emergency landing in a massive blaze. That was enough internet for today, at this rate you’d never want to hop in a plane again. You carefully set your phone to the side after checking the time.
“If I were him, I wouldn’t have let them get me.”
“I know, Flug.”
“And I would have documented everything.”
“Mhm”, you rest a hand on his back, your own eyes growing heavy.
“I’d go down there and put them back together myself. I’d personally take all of their shitty scrap parts, and make a better airplane than any of those so called professionals,” he says disdainfully.
You smile as he heaves a long sigh, like the weight of the world rests upon his weary shoulders; which isn’t far from the truth, if the way Black Hat nags him and Demencia torments him on a regular basis is any indication. Not to mention raising a son/care bear/science experiment through it all. But even if it’s not quite the whole earth, at the very least it’s the whole company. Everybody ought to give him more credit, himself included.
“If anybody could do such a thing, I know it’d be you, Flug. You’ve always had a brilliant mind.” He hums softly at the praise, feeling quite chuffed to know that at least someone in the manor besides his own son appreciated him not just for all he does, but who he is.
It’s quiet again for a few moments as he drifts in and out of consciousness, your hand gently rubbing his back until he speaks up again a few minutes later.
“And I’ll make you my co-pilot.”
This takes you by surprise, the hand rubbing his back stopping briefly as you let the words settle over the two of you. Reading between the lines was something you found yourself doing almost as often as reading his expression through his paper bag, the man still not quite comfortable enough to outright say all the things he’d had bouncing around in his head to you just yet. Your hand resumes as you test the waters, stuck between delicate hope and fear of possibly scaring him off.
“I…don’t know how to fly a plane. Nor do I have a pilots license.”
“Me neither, but I’ll show you how to do it in the cockpit. I’ll make sure you have a smooth ride for your first time.”
A pregnant pause falls over the both of you, and your whole face heats up, mind processing his words only to take a nosedive into the gutter. You open your mouth to respond only to be met with quiet snores from below, Flug blissfully unaware of the effect of his words.
‘Looks like the week finally caught up to him’, you think. Odds are he might not remember something like that when he woke up, but you could tease him about it later on. For now, you stretch your arms over your head and attempt to make yourself as comfy as possible without disturbing him, sleep beginning to overtake you as well. You glance down once more to where he dozes peacefully for the first time in years, committing it to memory before joining him in slumber.
“Buenas noches, Flug.”
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