Karin zips through the airport parking lot on her moped, the worn cover of her shoulder bag flapping away in the breeze. It's a busy season for travelers, and the closest spot she can find is still several blocks of cars away from the main entrance, wedged between a dinged SUV and a shitty little Chevy Cruze with so much dust caked onto its back window that she regrets being so short on time that she can't draw a dick there.
Well. Maybe she has a little time.
She wipes her dusty hands on the skirt of her uniform as she sprints to the entrance of the airport, then flashes a salute at Shizune at the baggage check before she sprints to the TSA line, nearly losing one of her sensible kitten heels in the process.
"Ah, ah." Kabuto waggles one finger down at her from the tower of his security desk. "How about we take it down a notch, hm?"
Karin gives him a dirty look and gestures ahead. "I'm flying out to Nagi Island today," she tells him, though it's none of his business where she's going. "Have fun counting ounces."
"Ah, ah," Kabuto says again. He gestures to a camera mounted on a podium next to him like the world's smarmiest game show host. "Say hi to our new AI facial recognition system first."
Karin grimaces. "Like hell I'm letting that thing look at my face."
"In that case, I'm going to need your passport or—"
"I've got my badge right here." Karin rifles through her bag but comes up empty handed. She curses, loudly, and earns a dirty look from a lady with sharp red eyes and an even sharper business suit who is just behind her in line. "I can't find it."
Kabuto doesn't flinch. "I'm going to need your passport or other identification, Miss," he says, chipper now that he's got a license to torment her.
Karin resists the urge to break his front teeth. "I forgot it," she says. "You know who I am, you jackass. I'm here six damn days a week."
"Oh dear," Kabuto says, his lips perked up in a damnable smirk. "Well. Unless you intend to continue holding up the line, miss, I would suggest you hand me your driver's license or passport so you can go through the rest of our security screening. I'd hate to have to call the head of security for something so minor."
"Yeah, I bet you'd just hate that." Karin contemplates the various ways she could kill Kabuto with all the various shit she's stuffed in her bag while she fishes out the one ID she did actually bring—her passport, since she has no business driving a car.
She presents him with the little booklet, which Kabuto pretends to review before he waves her through. "Fly safely."
"I hope this entire airport burns to the ground," Karin hisses as she stuffs her passport back into her bag and walks towards the TSA check. After waiting for fifteen damn minutes in line, she tosses her bag, her shoes, and the slim belt secured around the waist of her uniform into one of the buckets and pushes it onto the conveyor belt.
She glances up at the line past the x-ray machine and spots—"Oh, that mother fucker."
The red-eyed woman behind her stiffens at that and glares at her again, which Karin ignores as she steps into the x-ray machine and spreads out her arms.
She risks glancing over again and accidentally makes eye contact with the head of security, who is both simultaneously the biggest tightass she's ever met while also being the worst instigator of absolute bullshit. His badge, polished brighter than her moped has ever been, reads Uchiha Itachi in neat, cursive letters.
His eyes are dark but flat, like a lake seconds after a swimmer has slipped beneath its surface. His voice is just as deceptively calm, she thinks as she eavesdrops lightly onto the conversation he's having with the agent at the other end of the x-ray.
Once the agent on her machine waves her through, she drops her eyes like a nice, meek little flight attendant and grabs her heels and shoulder bag off of the conveyor belt, intending to slip away to her plane without catching his notice.
She makes it barely three steps away before someone grabs the back of her arm.
"Excuse me, miss," the head of security says, his voice deep, but tempered by a sort of levity that belies a lot of convoluted bullshit Karin wasn't exactly planning to entertain today. His hand rests there, barely touching her arm, but the second she lurches forward, his grip tightens to the point of being painful.
"I'm afraid I'll need to speak with you for a moment, miss," he says, not sounding fearful in the least.
If only he was.
"I have a flight I gotta cat—" Karin starts, irate, but the head of security doesn't budge.
"You'll need to come along with me," he says, still so frustratingly calm, as he indicates away from her terminal destination. He lets her jerk her arm out of his grip, but keeps uncomfortably close to her, as if he were waiting for her to attempt to bolt.
For a moment, Karin can't help but wonder if the entire airport is staffed with freak androids who only know how to be polite jackasses.
The head of security cocks his head back at her, almost as if he could read her mind. "The longer this takes, the more time you waste, miss."
Karin growls as she adjusts her bag on her arm. "Show me the way!" she says, loud enough to make the head of security look visibly uncomfortable. "Since I guess I don't have a choice here."
"You don't," he says simply, as he ushers her down a hall, through the holiday crowds, and towards a small, corner room that seems to be used for storage. There's a table in the middle of the room, spare luggage bins, and boxes piled in its corners, dust-gathering trinkets and tchotchkes spilling out of them.
Karin wrinkles her nose. "Aren't you supposed to have a female agent present at all times?" she asks, slyly. "Pretty sure I read that rule somewhere."
One of his fine eyebrows twitches. "Do you believe I will require the assistance of one?" he asks.
"You tell me."
The corner of his mouth perks up, though he quickly suppresses any semblance of enjoyment. "I can handle you just fine on my own." The head of security locks the door behind him and nods at her. "Now turn around, and drop the bag."
"Bossing me around now?" Karin asks as she turns towards the opposite wall and tosses her bag away. "Seems mighty unprofessional."
"Arms up," he says instead, followed by, "Good girl," when she does.
Karin's neck burns at the praise, but she schools her face into a scowl and lifts her arms slowly, her body tingling at the vulnerability of it.
"Oh? Did you not like that?" The head of security places his hands on her hips, his thumbs tucking lightly into the waistband of her skirt. "I could only imagine where someone as crafty as you would be inclined to hide contraband," he muses as he runs his hand over the curve of her backside.
"I can think of a few places you might want to check—ah." Karin squirms but remains standing, her arms held above her head, as he runs his hands back up her body, tugging her button-up shirt out of her skirt. "You'd be an embarrassment to your job if you weren't a thorough investigator," she breathes, her voice strained, as one warm palm slips under her shirt and over her stomach.
"Hm." He guides her body back against his, her back hitting his chest. "Nothing here," he murmurs into her ear.
"No?"
He hums in assent as he begins unbuttoning her shirt. Halfway up, he runs his hand back down her stomach and under the loose waistband of her skirt. "Perhaps here?" he asks, though he pulls his hand away before she can encourage him further.
Karin pulls her arms down towards her chest and scowls at him. "Don't—"
"I'm going to need you to lean over that table over there, miss." With that, he withdraws both hands, leaving Karin painfully aroused and needy. "Bend over and spread your legs apart."
Karin growls as she kicks her heels off but doesn't hesitate to comply, the edge of the table digging into her stomach as she stretches out over it. She's suddenly glad that she wore hose under her skirt, because the second she spreads her thighs, she's struck by a sudden draft where she's wet and aching between her legs. "Fuck," she murmurs into her folded arms as he runs one appreciative hand up and over the backs of her thighs.
"How compliant of you," he murmurs.
Karin glares at him over her shoulder, though he's entirely nonplussed—unphased by anything, even her worst anger. Jackass.
"Now…" He kneels behind her, and his hands come together around one knee, his palms cupping each side of it. "Are you familiar with the stages of a cavity search?"
Karin huffs. "Not at all. I'm a good citizen who always obeys the law and does what I'm told."
"Are you now?" Itachi hums as he slides his hands up her leg, inching up the inside of her thigh. "Somehow I find that hard to believe," he murmurs.
"Well, you better believe it."
"In that case, then, please allow me to walk you through the process," he says, as his hands reach the place where her leg and hip connect. His hands crawl higher, up and under her skirt, before hooking into her hose and tugging both it and her panties down her legs, peeling the fabric away from her hot skin.
He raises the palm of his hand and slides it between her legs, over her clit.
Karin jolts. "Ah—ah."
"Hm." He runs his fingers along her seam, tracing her entrance for the shortest moment before pulling his hand away, covered in her slick. "A foreign substance, it seems."
She lets out a witchy cackle. "Foreign to you, maybe."
Itachi's glare is chilling, even from his position on the floor. "Seems like I have probable cause to inspect further," he continues, overlooking the slight.
He pushes her skirt up further, up and over her hips. Two of his fingers press up against her, parting her lower lips before running one finger all the way back to her entrance.
"Ah—" He circles her entrance slowly, before pushing in a single finger in one slick movement. "H-hey!" she whines. "Aren't you guys supposed to wear gloves for this kind of thing?"
"Hm?"
"G-gloves! If you're gonna—" She shudders as he begins thrusting his finger in and out of her slowly, crooking it slightly with each thrust. "Fuck."
"Ah." He chuckles like a man with impenetrable confidence in himself. "Do you believe there is something on your person so dangerous that it would warrant such a precaution?"
"That's not why—" Karin lets out a low, gutted noise when he adds a second finger, stretching her with a nice, slow burn. She leans down against the table, letting it bear her weight as her legs grow weak beneath her. "Goddamn you."
"Nothing too abnormal yet," Itachi remarks, his voice aggravatingly flat. He thrusts his index finger inside of her once, shallowly, before filling her with all three, the sound of his knuckles pushing into her beyond obscene. "This is the difficult part," he intones, as his free hand rubs at her clit.
Karin bears down, squeezing her legs tightly together as he continues to rock his fingers in and out of her, pushing her closer to her orgasm.
"You women can be so clever when it comes to hiding things," he notes.
She grips the opposite end of the table with her hands, trying desperately to support her own weight as her legs begin to fail her, and a hot, writhing coil begins to tighten in her stomach.
"You have to be thorough, if you're going to outsmart them."
Karin cries out. "I'm close, I'm close—fuck—"
Itachi wrenches his fingers out of her and pulls her down for a kiss, his lips pressing into hers with bruising force, before she hears the slow purr of his zipper being undone. "If you're close," he starts.
"Do it, do it—fucking do it," she grits out, the wooden table creaking under her weight and tight grip. "Fuck."
Without preamble, Itachi grips the outside of her thighs, hefts her further onto the table, and fucks up into her, forcing all the air from her throat with one swift movement.
Karin grits her teeth, her body clenching around him as he starts fucking her in earnest. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
"That's the idea, Karin," he murmurs into her ear, his breath tickling her neck and making a shudder run through her body.
He licks the base of her jaw, where the bone meets her neck, and sucks a light mark there as he fucks her, the table rocking underneath the both of them.
"Not—" Karin growls and bucks back against him. "Not my hair. Don't you dare mess up my hair!"
"I'll help you fix it," he murmurs. He reaches one hand around her body and cups her in his hand, molding his fingers up against her clit.
She moans loudly, wanton, as his pace quickens. "Dammit!" she growls, catching a slight stutter in his thrust. "Are you already—"
"We are under time constraints," he says, by which he means he's about to blow any second now.
Karin lets out an angry sigh. "You better be in an oral examination mood after this, then."
"Well." He buries his face into her neck, purring low in his throat as one hand tightens on her hip. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve." His hand slides down her side, fingers digging in just enough to burn, just enough to make her keen out as he pushes back into her slowly, his pace suddenly agonizingly unhurried, scraping in and out of her.
His other hand snakes around to her front, thumb resting on her clit, putting the smallest amount of pressure on it possible. It rests there like a twist in her bra strap, insignificant, barely noticeable, but so grating that she wants to scream. "You fuck," she curses.
Itachi hums, wholly unbothered, as he adds just the slightest bit of pressure to her clit, making her groan. "Yes?"
"Fucker," she responds, in her most eloquent tone. She rocks back into him, trying to chase that friction, but he knows how to hold back just enough to keep her from going over the edge. "You cheating, dirty, little—"
He snaps his hips, and she keens, her voice echoing off the close walls.
"… Hello?" There's a knock at the door, and for a second, the knob jiggles. "Is someone in here?"
Karin groans and smacks her head on the table. Kabuto. The only creepy fuck in this hell hole weirder than Itachi.
"I'm fixing my pantyhose!" she calls out. "Don't you dare touch that door unless you want a lawsuit on your—"
Itachi starts thrusting again, picking up speed, apparently bored with her conversation. Karin sputters, caught off guard with his sudden renewed pace.
"Stop—" Before she can even finish yelling at him, he strikes her particularly deep and sucks lightly at the skin just beneath her jaw. That, coupled with his now-persistent thumb circling her clit, is exactly what she needs to tip her over the edge. "Oh, fuck. Ngh…" She shudders, helpless as Itachi continues to thrust into her, cold sweat breaking out over her body, her cunt squeezing him for all its worth.
"Oh, you're disgusting!" Kabuto shrieks, as he turns away from the door, gagging. "You should be shot!"
Itachi has the nerve to laugh at that, before he rocks into her with one last, stuttering thrust and empties himself inside of her.
"Pull out now, you jackass!" Karin hisses, as she scrambles within his grasp. "I have a whole flight left ahead of me!"
He hums, ignoring her entirely in favor of running his hands up and down her sides. "This should placate you at least until tonight."
She growls, turning her face to hide her reddening cheeks. "Idiot."
There's no response this time, aside from him trying to steady his breathing as he leans against her, resting.
"Pull out, already," she whines. She knocks him back - and out of her - with a sharp elbow to his gut, then turns gingerly, her legs clenched tightly together. "I need the wet wipes from my bag. Now."
"Mhm."
Karin kicks at him with one knee. "Smelling like sex is bad enough. Imagine if the jackasses in first class caught me leaking cum. It'd be a frenzy."
"I can think of worse."
Her withering glare is enough to finally spur him into action. With one final, gentle kiss to her cheek, Itachi retrieves the wet wipes from her bag and helps her clean off, so she can pull her tights back up and straighten her uniform collar.
"You should have plenty of time to make your flight," he tells her, almost apologetically, as he reties the ascot around her neck.
Karin "Of course I do. You think I showed up an hour early on accident?"
He smiles, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"Travel safe," he says, as he opens the door and holds it for her. "And I'll see you when you get home tonight."