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smutoperator · 4 months

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King Of Oshiri

Miyawaki Sakura, Nakamura Kazuha, Minatozaki Sana, Myoi Mina, Hirai Momo x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, (lots of) anal, asses, butts, culos, creampies, facefuck, hotwife, japanese, (a little) lesbian, orgy, reverse gangbang, rough sex

Word count: 12911.

You had a longtime fascination for Japanese idols in K-pop. From the first time you saw a cute Japanese girl saying "shy, shy, shy" back on TV, you fell in love with every single one of them. Today, that love reached its biggest point, as you were about to secretly marry your favorite among them all: the queen herself, Miyawaki Sakura. When you first discovered her on Produce 48 and knew her long history in Japan, you thought it would be impossible to even meet her, yet here you are today with the wife of your dreams and all her friends attending the ceremony.

The honeymoon night was the most intense of your life. Sakura was really into some bed-breaking sex and rocked the night. One day into your marriage, you already had questions about whether you could satisfy such a crazy sexual appetite. Sakura had never shown it to you when you guys were dating, but as soon as she became a married woman, she flipped a switch.

The next day, you found out Sakura wasn't going to lift her foot off the gas. The tiring night before meant you were late to wake up, but Sakura had no issues, showing up at your door wearing just a garter belt tied to her stockings and nothing else. Her tits were completely uncovered, and so was her pussy, meaning she had already graced you with an almost nude frontal sight first thing in the morning. With you still naked in bed and looking at your morning wood under the sheets, you assumed Sakura would be starting the day with a morning sex session. But she had different plans.

"Get up and come here," Sakura asked you, who did it just as she had ordered it. "Let's go downstairs," she said. Sakura grabbed your hands and showed you the way towards the gaming lounge. That confused you. Even though you knew she was very much into gaming, why would she need to play video games wearing barely anything on a cold day? But soon her plan would start to make sense as you saw a fit, tall woman lying on the couch Sakura normally plays video games.

Sakura greeted her younger groupmate, Kazuha, with a kiss. A little embarrassed, you tried to cover your genitalia in front of Zuha, but she barely looked at you as Sakura kept kissing her. "What are you doing to me today?" you asked, still very confused. But both of them could only laugh before Sakura actually said, "It's a surprise." Trying to break the ice, you complimented Kazuha, saying she was beautiful. "Yes, she is gorgeous," Sakura said, gleefully taking Kazuha's jeans out and unveiling her fit and toned body for you. "Look at her body, baby, isn't it amazing?" Sakura asked you as Kazuha turned around and took off her shirt as well, showing you her sexy back and especially her great ass as she bent over in your direction.

"Good God, you got such a great ass," you told Kazuha. "It's beautiful; it's truly my inspiration," Sakura said as she gave Kazuha's left cheek a kiss. "It's so sexy when you kiss her," you told Sakura. "I can see you like that," she replied. "I love seeing beautiful girls having fun," you said as Sakura pulled Kazuha's bra to the side and started kissing her cute little tits in front of you. It didn't take long until both got very touchy and kissed each other while grabbing their asses. Then it was Kazuha's turn to suck Sakura's healthy tits. "Let me see these hard-trained asses," you asked both as they turned around and flashed them in front of you, grabbing each other's cheeks. Kazuha gave Sakura's butt a little spanking as they giggled with you in awe at both's asses.

Sakura got on top of Kazuha, stacking their asses up. You could see your wife's meaty pussy you had pounded so hard the night before rubbing against Kazuha's white panties. "Maybe we should get her naked," you asked Sakura, but before you had even finished, she had already taken Kazuha's bra off. Both laughed when you started stroking your wood in front of them like a dirty pervert. Sakura kissed Zuha's neck while you looked at the youngster's body. Reaching under Zuha's angelic-looking panties, Sakura started fingering the youngster's pussy in front of you while spreading Zuha's long legs. Mouth in her neck, right hand in her tits, left hand in her pussy, Sakura was doing everything to get Zuha wet as quickly as possible, as the youngster enjoyed her unnie's magical touch.

After a while, Sakura stopped, and Kazuha bent over on the couch, with her unnie taking Zuha's panties off. Her meaty slit, just like Sakura's, showed off, but what drew your attention was the butt plug shoved on Zuha's rectum. "That's beautiful!" you exclaimed. "So shiny and pretty," Sakura added, showing her tongue and putting it close to Zuha's anal plug while fingering her pussy. Kkura then moved towards the plug, trying to take it out of Zuha's tight hole. "Look how shiny it is, baby," Sakura said. Zuha's young butthole as just as tight as you would expect. After both tasted the plug with their mouths, Sakura put it back inside Zuha's anus at your orders, as you wanted her hole to remain a surprise to you, but not before giving a few licks on Zuha's ass and putting her index finger up there. "Her asshole is so nice, tight, and warm," Sakura described.

"Look at this gorgeous body; do you wanna touch her?" Sakura asked you as she placed her thumb in Zuha's clit. You started touching Zuha's firm ass, and your thumb fingered her already wet pussy, thanks to your wife's efforts. "Let me slap it," you asked Kazuha, spanking her beautiful ass multiple times and getting impressed at her overall fitness. You grabbed her butt plug once more, removing it on your own to take an extra look at her beautiful asshole. "Spread it open for me," you asked Sakura, who grabbed Zuha's cheeks before inserting it back in. "Oh my God, this is amazing." You were in awe at Zuha's sexy ass but also at her very enticing pussy right in your eyesight. The only thing preventing you from fucking her right away were the second thoughts you were having about cheating on your wife in front of her on your first day of marriage.

"Stand up and shake your ass for me," you asked Kazuha, who now looked even more beautiful. Her tall frame looked very amazing, and her legs were to die for. Sakura wasn't lying when she said her body was her inspiration. Zuha bent over and started shaking her fit butt in front of you. "Wanna see her pink pussy?" Sakura intervened, spreading it as Zuha finished twerking. "Look how pink it is," Kkura said, but you only had eyes for Kazuha's ass. "Keep shaking. Shake it for me, my baby, you ordered. Zuha started laughing as her ass bounced. "You're getting him harder," Sakura told her, as both of them were now laughing. "You know, hubby, she's only the first," Sakura said. "What do you mean?" you asked, but both just kept giggling and getting touchy with each other. "Come to the kitchen, baby; there are more delicious dishes waiting for you," Sakura continued, taking Zuha by her hand and moving towards the kitchen. As you three arrived, an angelic, cute woman in white lingerie was waiting for you.

"Oh, my God," you said as a very recognizable face appeared in your sight. Sana really knew how to fit in everywhere she went. If Sakura and Kazuha were in a group of fallen angels, she made sure to match them perfectly. Sana's giggle was one of the most unique you ever heard of. She was really the only girl that could pull stuff like "shy shy shy" and look like a total hot bombshell the next second. Her amazing duality was now fully on display to you. Sakura got in front of her, giving Sana a few kisses. "She's so pretty." Even though you had known Sana for a long time, all you could muster was a reaction that made you look dumb. They just ignored you as your wife continued kissing her unnie while Kazuha watched.

Sana turns her head and grabs Kazuha's, kissing the youngster while Sakura moves to play with her torso, licking it from top to bottom and giving special attention to Sana's navel, knowing it turns her unnie on a lot, as she moans as soon as Sakura lands her tongue on Sana's belly button. As Kazuha turns her attention to Sana's white bra, Sakura goes even lower and starts kissing Sana in areas close to her pussy, but taking care to avoid it so she can tease her. "Lick it," you order Sakura, who puts her tongue into Sana's fabric while Kazuha teases Sana's bra, moving to take it off but backing off at the last second to tease her unnie.

"Let me have a taste of her," you ask Sakura regarding Sana. "Wait," she answers back. "Stand up, show him your full body," Sakura orders Sana, who shows you her striking beauty. Sana then turns around and showcases her ass. Just like she did to Zuha, Sakura grabs and spanks Sana's cheeks and shows them to you. "That's a beautiful ass that she has," you compliment Sana. Kkura and Zuha touch her together for a bit, and then Sakura moves to take Sana's panties off. "Slip those panties off," Sakura says as she does it, unveling Sana's anal plug.

"Wow, she has it too?", you ask after playing with Zuha's plug a while ago. Sana's butt plug isn't an ordinary one; she has a custom-made plug crafted by Graff, which she endorses, with multiple diamonds that spell her name in Japanese (サナ). Some have diamonds in the sky, in their eyes, but Sana has them up her ass. "Spread her ass; let me see it," you demand. "Those diamonds are such a nice touch," you say, unaware of how expensive they truly are. "You wanna see what her holes look like?" Sakura asks. "Yes, let me get in there," you immediately answer, but Sakura is very protective of her unnie and covers Sana's plug and pussy with her hand.

Sakura then tries to remove Sana's anal plug, but she struggles. Her butthole is just too tight and clenches at the minimal sight of any air entering its insides. The tip of the plug inside Sana's anus bulges as Sakura tries to push it out, changing the tone of Sana's skin around her rectum to an even pinker shade. "It doesn't wanna come out," Sakura says. It takes a while until she finally manages to do so. But your look at Sana's stretched butthole is short-lived, as it quickly clenches just a few seconds after the plug is off her hole. "Such a pretty butthole she has," you compliment as Kkura and Zuha taste Sana's plug and laugh. "Put it back inside," you ask as Sakura tongues Sana's tight anus for her own enjoyment before meeting your demand as Kazuha spanks Sana's butt.

"Turn around for me; I wanna see her titties too," you ask, taking a frontal look at Sana's sexy body. She takes the initiative herself, pulling her bra to the side and showing you her perky tits before Sakura takes it all off. "May I touch it?" you ask her. Kkura and Zuha quickly take advantage of it, with the older Le Sserafim girl licking Sana's left nipple while the young one licks her right nipple. Sana giggles at her boobs being stimulated, and you tell them it's beautiful. Wisely, Sakura also places her hands on Sana's pink slit when you feel jealous of them. "So nice and hard," Sakura says about Sana's nipples while you stare at their hands covering Sana's vagina. "Incredible pussy," you tell Sana while Sakura fingers it. You'll really have to fight your own wife to get it.

"It's so wet," Sakura says as she spreads Sana's pussy lips. "Touch her for me," you ask as Sakura keeps playing with Sana's clit and cunt. Sana squeaks a little as Sakura places her fingers inside her unnie's clit. "Check that beautiful pink pussy", Sakura says, leading all three of them to giggle. Her inner lips are very meaty, while her outer lips are perfectly shaped for Sakura to place her fingers between them. "I love that pussy," Kazuha says as they keep giggling while Sakura keeps circling her fingers around Sana's pink hole. "Let's put both pussies next to each other," you ask Sakura, wanting to compare Sana's and Zuha's breeding holes. Sakura touches both of them; they are similarly shaped, but Sana's a little meatier, especially on the inner lips. You touch Zuha's pussy while Kkura keeps playing with Sana's. "I think we should eat both of these pussies," Sakura says as she dives into Sana's clit and takes Zuha's pussy away from you. Your wife is truly leaving no crumbs, as she sucks both dry and gets them wet. "Such a good tongue," Sana praises Kkura, moaning hard as Sakura effectively sucks her cunt like a vacuum cleaner. "Sakura-chan, you're so good, fuck," Sana screams as Sakura sweeps her tongue on her.

"Now it's my turn," you tell the girls. "Sit them on the chair," you ask. Sakura does sit Kazuha in the chair and moves to eat her pussy now while Sana kisses the younger one. The teasing continues as they leave you out of their little menage. Zuha gets ganged up with Sakura tonguing her clit while Sana uses her hand on it and gives a little tap on Zuha's honey thighs. "Alright girls, turn around and put your knees in the chair to show me those asses," you ask them, to which they finally oblige. "Now this is what I want," you say as Sana and Zuha get on their knees with their buttocks facing you. Sakura gives Sana's ass some hard spankings while going soft on Zuha's, who is also the first girl you grab to get eaten out.

You dive between Zuha's cheeks, first licking the base of her anal plug. Sana and Sakura kiss the youngest up top while you yank her plug with much ease and start fucking her ass using it, moving the accessory up and down Kazuha's shithole. You move to Sana and do the same thing, but this time sniffing her cheeks. You get amazed at her rose-scented smell and the care Sana takes of her body, to the point that even her dirtiest holes are good-smelling. Just like Sakura before, you struggle to take Sana's plug out of her asshole. "Oh my God, you're really holding onto it," you tell her, leading Sana to gush out a loud giggle. She really does her best to keep it tight, doesn't she?. "Take your time," she tells you, not long before you finally manage to take it off. Her butthole is so small you could struggle to fit a marble inside, let alone a thick cock like yours.

You savor your reward, diving your face straight into Sana's asshole. "Tongue that asshole," Sana orders you as you grab her cheeks while she dunks your head towards her butt. "Bury that face in that ass, baby; it's where it belongs," Sakura tells you as Sana gives a little ass shake. You go deeper, taking not only your tongue but also your nose as you smell Sana's rectum. "That's where your face belongs, right between those ass cheeks," your wife keeps going, demanding you to keep eating Sana's bumhole as you pick up the pace. "That's right, put that tongue in that fucking little asshole." It's Sana's turn to heat you up as she moves her cheeks left and right as you continue to tongue her anus.

"How does that ass taste?" Sakura keeps teasing you, but you don't hear her. The smell of Sana's ass penetrating your nostrils gives you a primal urge to fuck her. Sana can sense it as she puts her head on the kitchen table, bracing herself for an intense anal penetration. However, you surprise her by pointing your massive, thick cock towards her tight, wet cunt. "You can put it in," Sakura says, giving the green light, and any second thoughts you had disappear as you attack Sana's poon hard from the start. Her moans are soft and almost childish; in a way, she's like one of the few girls that can still do aegyo while a massive meat rod stretches her out.

"Let me help spread her ass for you," Sakura says as Sana clearly struggles with the way you stab her tight pussy. Even for a seasoned veteran girl like her, your cock was in the top 1% of intensity, length, and girth, giving her a pounding she had rarely taken. "FUCK! GOSH!" Sana is already screaming as she tries to please herself, placing her own fingers in her clit. Even though Sana is the fucking subject, your eyes are on your wife's. You really don't want Sakura to feel jealous for fucking another girl in a way you had never done to her, even on your honeymoon. "Don't you like how that tight pussy grips your cock?" Sakura asks you. And indeed, you loved it. Sana's pussy really didn't let anything in besides your cock. No queefing was heard, as no air could even get in. The permanent friction makes her hole super wet, but the tightness means your cock fills her to the fullest in a way even she wasn't accustomed to, as she just closes her eyes and rides the pain of each thurst.

You pull out of Sana's pussy and let Kazuha taste the juices out of your cock; her sloppy sucking provides you with the extra lubrication to go back inside Sana's tight hole and also helps her unnie. With a wetter cock and Sana now acclimated to your big prick, your poundings don't result in her feeling pain and almost crying, but rather make her smile and feel delighted. Sana's juice provides the wetness your cock needs, and after a few thursts, you switch to Kazuha's. Unsurpringly, her young pussy is also very tight, but even with an easier entrance, it proves to be a challenger, as she's much less experienced and doesn't have many reps taking a girth 8-inch like yours, unlike Sana.

Luckily for Zuha, you are kinder to her than you were to Sana, grabbing her hot body and providing her a firm grip to hold onto while not going as hard in her pussy. Her biggest challenge is actually taking her unnies and overstimulating her, as Sakura kisses her while Sana sucks her perky little tits. You three provide Kazuha with a rough but passionate experience, with you increasing the pace as Zuha feels more comfortable while Sana kisses her and Sakura now fingers her pussy down under. "Unnies, I think I'm going to cum. Ahhhhhhhh!" Kazuha moans. Indeed, such ovverstimulation was new to her, as she juices flow into your massive instrument and you pull out of her. She feels overwhelmed but smiles at you, especially as you are a gentleman to her, and you help her get out of the chair.

There is more waiting for you, though. Sakura grabs the two other girls by her hands, guiding them towards your house's main hall. You follow them from behind to keep catching a glimpse of their bouncy asses. Just as you guys enter the hall, a fourth woman appears sitting on a chair while fingering her pussy, probably having impure thoughts of all the noise you four had made in that kitchen.

Mina appeared in white lingerie similar to Sana's, but she had already taken her panties off a long time ago. The pillow under her chair was already wet with her juices. She also holds a dildo, which she licks while staring at you with naughty eyes. "Do you like her?" Sakura asks you, but you have no time for talking. Noticing her meaty cunt as she already has her legs spread and also the butt plug she has craved in her shithole, you get on your knees and eat Mina's clit right from the start. "That pussy is so sweet," Sana tells you while Sakura kisses Mina up top. I guess she has lots of experience tasting it.

As you keep sucking Mina's insides, Sakura takes Minari's bra off, with her still holding the dildo in her mouth. Sana watches you, probably ready to pounce as soon as she gets a chance. For now, she takes Mina's mouth and grabs her tits instead. Sakura and Kazuha are now having fun together as Zuha eats her unnie's pussy, leaving the affair with Mina as a little menage à trois between you, her, and Sana. "Put that ass up," you order Mina, wanting to see her anal plug and cheeks up closer. Mina's ass is so big, it was almost burying the plug out of your sight. You take Mina's perfectly shaved pussy and eat it out, while Sana now holds Mina's dildo and rubs it against her groupmate's clit as you switch your attention to the plug.

You play with Minari's plug, putting it in and out of her ass; meanwhile, Sana shoves the dildo back into Mina's pussy while kissing her. You look up top and see your wife orgasming with the young Kazuha working her tongue in her pussy. As Sakura climaxes, your eyes set sights back into Mina, who grabs your wife's tits while taking the dildo back from Sana and fucking herself in the pussy. You start tonguing Mina's little anus. "Let's eat her out together," you tell Sana, who takes her tongue out like a maniac and vigorously licks Mina's pussy, who now shoves her little toy into Kazuha's mouth. "Let me get a taste of that ass," Sakura tells you as she joins the fun, and Mina now fingers herself, even putting a tad of her fingers in Sakura's mouth while Kazuha is now the one sucking her tits.

Sana leaves her sloppy marks in the dildo, which Mina grabs back and shoves in Kazuha's mouth. As Sakura puts her middle finger up Mina's anus, Sana spits on her groupmate's cunt. Kkura wants more of it, as she now stretches Mina's asshole with two fingers. Sana does the same, but inside Mina's pussy, with the big-assed Japanese-American girl now getting double penetrated by a pair of fingers. Sakura is the first to pull out, making Mina taste her dirty shithole, to which she laughs. Kkura also gives Zuha some sloppy seconds while Sana takes full control of Mina's pussy, as Sakura also spits on it. You then grab the dildo from Sana's hands, who asks.

"What are you gonna do to her? Are you gonna fuck that ass?" Sana asks. Indeed, you were, but first with the dildo shoved up Mina's rectum. "Yes, spit on it; put it in there," Mina orders as the dildo easily slides inside her butthole. "AHHH FUCK!" Mina screams as once again she gets double-stuffed, this time by the dildo and Sana's fingers. "You like how her ass opens up for you? You like how it's getting ready for that dick?" Sakura kisses you, while Mina enjoys the kisses of both Kazuha and Sana. As these two move down to Mina's nipples, you start thursting the dildo up her ass. Now Mina is the one stuffing her fingers inside her own pussy.

"I think it's time to put my cock in there," you say, removing the dildo and feeding it into Kazuha's mouth, then Mina's, finally handing it to Sana as she fucks Mina's face with it. "Which hole do you wanna put it in?" Sakura asks. You choose the asshole. "Yes, put it right there," Mina cheers as you insert your tip in while Kazuha and Sana overstimulate her sucking her tits. Mina asks you to push it deeper as you finger her pussy. It turns out she has a lot of experience taking even the biggest cocks up that fat ass. Sana spanks Minari's pussy and gets some kisses from Sakura as you conquer Mina's anal cavity. "Oh my God!" you scream as Mina's butthole presses hard against your cock while Kazuha and Sana keep sucking the fat ass girl's tits.

"Everybody, let's spit on this dick," Sakura orders, starting it herself, followed by Zuha, Sana, and Mina herself. The three keep trading spits, turning Mina's thighs into a sloppy mess. "Who wants to suck it?" you ask, pulling out of Mina's asshole. Sana is the first to volunteer, as she really enjoys a dirty ass-to-mouth. She grabs your balls and sucks your prick all the way deep, rewarding you with a huge throatfuck that almost makes you cum when Sakura presses Sana's head into your crotch. Thanks to her help, you go back inside Mina's rectum with much more ease. Mina smiles as you stretch her out with an extra spit added by Sana. All three girls team up to help you two, as Kazuha fingers her pussy, Sana kisses her groupmate, and Sakura dives under you to suck your balls as you thurst in and out. Zuha and Sana then trade positions, with the latter spanking Mina's pussy.

"Baby, you're gonna make me cum," you say as Sakura keeps warming up your testicles, getting you ready to release. You have to pull out of Mina's asshole, but Sakura taking your cock in her warm mouth as soon as you do doesn't help much. You put her finger on Mina's pussy while holding herself back from bursting inside your wife's throat. "So you want the best of both worlds," Mina tells you when you pull out of your wife's mouth and put your cock in her pussy. But knowing you were about to explode, Kkura sets you up as she keeps massaging your balls anyway, leading to a very short stint inside Mina's cunt as you release your seeds inside it, taking her by surprise, but she loves it anyway. Lucky for you, Sana is right there to scoop the cum that keeps glued to your cock, taking it in her mouth and leading to you not deflating as soon as you burst.

Sana giggles as she slaps your cock in her face and jerks you off, helping you regain the erection you had just lost. "Come here, I have some more," Sakura says, with you still recovering with Sana's help. It turns out she isn't even halfway done, leading her convoy of girls towards the living room, where a fifth woman, already on all fours on the couch and wearing sexy red lingerie, waits for them.

Momo's body never ceases to amaze you. She was so small yet could pack a punch that very few idols could. No wonder Sakura's first question as you four approached the living room was a quick "Do you see her ass?". Of course, you did. "Look at this," Sakura said as the four girls surrounded Momo. Her ass was already on full display, and just like everybody else, she had a butt plug in her bumhole. Momo laughed as the four girls praised her body, gifting the young Kazuha her first kiss while Sakura grabbed her ass and her two groupmates watched from above. Sakura, Mina, and Kazuha were the first three to give Momo a lick in the ass, while Sana kissed her and gave Momo a big smile.

"Let's make her wet," Sakura ordered. You're still out of frame trying to recover yourself while watching the girls make out with each other. Kazuha, as the first to also give Momo's pussy a lick, seemed like she really wanted to prove herself to her more experienced unnies. Momo was already being touched left and right like the main course of a buffet, but as Sakura was kissing her, Sana took the initiative and removed her groupmate's anal plug. Momo wasn't very fond of it. "Put it back in," she ordered, as if she were still saving her anus for something bigger. Sana obliged, but not without saying. "Sorry, baby, I just wanted to see how big that asshole is." Indeed, Momo's asshole was the most stretched out of the five, thanks to her longtime reputation as an anal queen. In the naughty underworld of K-pop, every single one of those girls had already been penetrated by multiple cocks at the same time, with the exception of the still-young Kazuha, including a few times when they had two in the same hole. But Momo is one of the few who once endured having three big rods stretch her ass at the same time. You weren't aware of it, but knowing her reputation, the bar to set was really high.

Sana kept plugging in and out of Momo's asshole while Kazuha fingered her pussy and Mina kissed her, then going further and fucking Momo's mouth with her hands and then spitting on her throat. "Show me the fucking whore you are," Mina told her, fisting Momo's throat deep while Sana spanked her butt and Kazuha tongueed her plug. Sana was particularly obsessed with Momo's asshole. "Make it gape," she ordered Kazuha. "One. Two. Three," she counted after Zuha put it back in, and she ordered another removal to spit on Momo's asshole. "Right down that fucking hole," Sana said as she watched her saliva disappear inside Momo's anus. "Such a nice butthole," Sakura said, which made Momo burst into laughter. "I love watching you girls have fun," she continued as once again her groupmates spread Momo's asshole wide open, and it was Mina's turn to spit inside of it.

"Take it out; we are all going to spit in there," Sakura told Kazuha, who held Momo's butt plug. The girls counted to three and spread Momo's ass, hitting her gaping anus from all sides, laughing at her (literally) sorry ass. Sana and Mina were the ones having the most fun. Sakura spiced things up as she did her classic special of putting your middle finger up a girl's pussy once more, leading Momo to let out a few moans. "Oh, yes, please do it," she demanded. "Do it, do it, do it," Sana added. "Spread that fucking asshole. She fucking wants it," she continued. "What she wants is that fucking cock deep inside her," Sana giggled.

Sakura sat on Momo's face, letting her unnie eat her bushy pussy. "She's a hungry slut." Mina and Sana continued to mock her groupmate as they overwhelmed Momo. "Hmm, look at those titties," Mina said as she slapped them while Sakura continued to ride Momo's dumb face, making her moan. "YESSSS!" Momo screamed as Sana put her thumb up her cunt. Momo then bounced Sakura's ass down her face and started eating her butthole as well. Meanwhile, Mina and Sana continued to go out of their minds, with the former conguing Momo's asshole while the latter was eating her pussy, while Sakura took Momo's bra off. Soon, Momo had girls teaming up in her fuckholes. Mina and Kazuha took her big gaping anus, with Sakura following it later, while Sana had her pussy all by herself. The other four girls knew they could go rough on Momo, and she would take it. She was Japan's top fuckhole, the #1 sex toy, and the girl with millions of followers who would do the wildest things just to get a day or night with her.

I guess the wildest thing you did was marry one of her friends. As you reappeared in the frame fully ready, your cock thobbing harder than ever as you watched this whole debauchery between five hot girls. "Open that ass." You already started giving Momo an order, to which she obliged like the good fucktoy she is. "Bring her closer to me." You continued to give orders, which the other girls followed. For the first time, your massive tip appeared in Momo's eyesight. In a rare thing for her, she looked frightened, blessing herself not to get ripped apart by your massive member. Whatever Sakura may have told her, it truly made one of the fearless girls you've ever met scared. Momo backed off a little, with the girls having to send her back in your direction.

Sana gave Momo a little hug as she spat on Sana's pussy and then started fucking Sana's mouth with her hands. Until she suddenly screamed. "YES. Yes, yes," she said as a tsunami of sensations emanated from her asshole. It was just the tip of your cock getting inserted in her. You couldn't say you didn't feel a bit pressured watching Momo feel so scared of your pole, to the point where you now wanted to confirm her fears and much more. "FUCK!!!!!" she screamed and dove into Sana's pussy to cope with the pain, even though out of your 8 inches, only a quarter were even inside her. Mina was the one enjoying a privileged view of it, as she grabbed both Momo's cheeks and stared at your crotch.

Your dick slipped out of Momo's butthole, giving her temporary relief. It didn't last long. "Come on, Momo, don't be shy, and bounce on his cock," Mina told her. You firmly grabbed Momo's ass and managed to put your length halfway inside as you started drilling her asshole. Momo truly had guts made of steel, given that as soon as your cock entered inside her, the gaping anus she once exibited immediately shut down. Mina dove into Sana's pussy, leaving Momo to fend for herself against your monster cock. "OH GODDDDD!" Momo screamed as you now had 6 out of 8 inches inside her. Just like with Mina, Sakura provided the heat on your balls as you kept pumping, but even though Momo's ass was a little smaller than her younger groupmate, it proved to be a much tougher challenge.

The stimulation Sakura provided to Momo's pussy was what eventually made things easier for you. Your wife's magic fingers made Momo weaker, and her asshole started caving as your cock kept pounding. "Please, please, please," she begged at the same time Sana was having an orgasm in front of her, thanks to the intensity with which Mina was eating her pussy. You pulled out of Momo's asshole for a second and let Kazuha clean your cock, as it seemed she was enjoying tonguing her unnie's ass. Momo tried to recover as the Le Sserafim angels teamed up on your cock, joining Mina on the stimulation of Sana, effectively splitting them into their groups. But it wasn't going to last long, as the only thing that was going to be split were Momo's holes in half.

You put your cock inside Momo again, but this time switching holes. Her pussy was very easy to enter compared to her asshole, but she was still screaming, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" Momo yelled as you now stretched her vagina, her ass cheeks full of hands as Sana's and Mina's joined yours. "Stretch that cunt wide fucking open," Mina demanded while Sana moved back and kissed Momo passionately. Momo kept praying to God as Sakura now appeared under her and licked her clit and your shaft at the same time. "Yes, hit those balls on her chin and Momoring's pussy." Mina kept cheering as she used Momo's ass like a pillow. "Let me suck the cock; I wanna suck it", Mina demanded as she licked Momo's anus.

"God, that hole is so fucking warm," you exclaimed as you pulled out of Momo. Mina was quick and took your cock for herself while spitting on Sakura's mouth just under her. "Oh, nice," you said of Mina's blowjoy, which Sakura joined with her classic ball-sucking move. Momo tried to stay out of your range, but Mina kept pushing her, knowing you were a raging bull ready to enter inside her slutty groupmate at any moment as she worked to keep your cock ready. Mina got surprised by a "helping" hand that dunked her head against your crotch, which turned out to be Kazuha's. At the same time, Momo turned around, making it the first time you had a sight of her body frontally. Her big tits and toned abs had you throbbing even harder.

Momo pushed Mina to the side and decided she too wanted to have a taste of herself. "Yes, you slut; taste your dirty holes." Mina talked dirty to her as Momo bobbed her head on your cock while Sakura still tongued your balls. Momo dropped your shaft from her mouth and spat on it. Your out-of-control pole took a swing, hitting Mina's left cheek as she kissed your ball-sucking wife. Sana took advantage of the scuffle and stretched her head out to suck your tip without using her hands, before Mina took it back to herself and resumed to stroke it hard. Momo and Kazuha tenderly kissed each other, not caring about the trio of whores fighting for your cock.

After Mina was done, Sakura took the turn, taking your cock deep in her mouth while Sana licked her neck. Mina kept moving like a maniac, now dunking your wife's head on your shaft. Sana licked her chops as Mina kept shoving Sakura against your crotch. Your wife eagerly took it until she gagged, then swept your cock on her face. "Let me see all these assets; come here; let me see them all," you told them, eliciting a loud cheer from all five. You put Sakura on the couch like she was your personal trophy, grabbing her waist while Mina and Kazuha traded kisses to the right of her. "Line up, ladies," Sakura instructed them as she took the far left side of the couch as you gave her anus a tonguing. "Oh yeah, I love when hubby eats my ass," she said. "Tell me how that tastes; I bet it's dirty," she continued.

You started working your mouth on Kkura's ring, but she would only be the first of many. Kissing and tonguing and giving her a little spanking as you moved to Sana's beautiful tiny asshole, you led her to shake her butt left and right as you licked it. "Eat this dirty fucking ass," Sakura kept saying. All the way on the right side of the couch, Mina and Momo enjoyed each other's mouths. Kazuha was next in the center of the couch. "Why do you still have this stupid plug?" you asked her as the other four laughed. "Let me take it off," you said, staying true to your words as you slowly took Zuha's plug out, unveiling her very tiny hole in the open. "God, look at this tall girl with such a small asshole," you said as you dug your head between Zuha's toned butt cheeks and aggressively tongued it. "Isn't it good?" Sakura asked as she led the girls. Mina was next. Her big fat ass was probably your favorite, diving at full speed to taste it as she also moved it left and right and clinged herself to a needy Momo waiting for her turn.

"Oh My God," you were enchanted by Mina's firm ass and top-notch butthole, but more girls were waiting for you. "The last of the assholes," you said, referring to Momo's, looking at her pair of cavities you had just stretched out a few minutes ago. Momo moved her ass back in your direction and placed her head against the couch's arm, closing her eyes just in case you happened to shove your big cock inside her again while grabbing her cheeks. Your cock truly had inflicted fear in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. But all she got was just a tonguing, just like the other four girls. As you finished the ass-eating session, Mina started twerking, which gave you an idea.

"Shake it for me; shake those asses," you said, spanking your wife's ass first, followed by Sana's. The five girls shook their asses on the couch. It was hard to pick which one did it more enthusiastically, but you really enjoyed Momo, Sana, and Sakura's shakes the most. But all that shaking would be pointless without more fucking. You served your wife first, rubbing Sakura's pussy, which you had used all night long the day before. "Stretched that butt for me," you demanded of Sana, who was right on her side. "In the ass?" you rethorically asked Sakura as she spread her anus with her left hand. "Yes, I wanna see that fucking whore take it in the ass," Sana said as you gave Kkura a little tease with your tip. before finally sticking your cock in the hole she denied you during that almost perfect night yesterday.

Sana gave Sakura's butt a bite as you shoved your cock in. "What a beautiful fucking sight," Sana said as you made Kkura scream with your girthy cock, as Sana muffled it with a kiss for your wife. Sakura truly hadn't saved her ass for no reason, as her hole looked super tight. "Spread it open," you ask Sana, who now serves as your assistant right beside Sakura. Sana placed her hands on Kkura's ass while also licking her armpits. "In and out of your whore wife just like that," damn, Sana was good at dirty talking, and you reward her by shoving your cock on your mouth to taste Sakura's dirty butthole. Sana retributed by spitting on Sakura's ring as she kept repeating those words while Mina was having fun eating Kazuha's ass in the background.

You grabbed Sana's neck and put her back on the couch. "Spread her asshole." You gave the command for Sakura while still fucking her, setting the tone for who was next in line. It turns out your wife is the only one that can gape Sana's tiny o-ring. "Let me fuck it," you say as Kazuha rests on Sana's ass. "Look at that beautiful asshole," the youngest says. However, even with Sakura's help, you struggle to hit Sana's hole, which quickly clenches, leading you to miss your first attempt at reaching paradise. But with a little help from Kazuha's spit and you firmly grabbing Sana's butt, you finally get there. Sana squeezes you from the start with barely the tip in; fucking her ass will be like drilling a steel wall.

Sana smiles as you insert your big prick inside her. She loves taking it up in the ass and starts moving her hips as soon as she spots a cock inside her holes. But this time you want to be the one doing the pounding, pushing it with all your might against her steel-esque cavity. You can barely put half your length in as Sana's hole shuts down around your tip immediately, crushing it in a way that would make any ordinary man cum at the spot. But you're different from the rest, and you keep pushing despite the resistance her tight hole gives you. "So good, so good, so good," you keep repeating almot as a coping mechanism to not cum, while Mina and Kazuha make sure to please Sana and finger her unnie's cunt.

"Okay, your turn next." You give up trying to stretch Sana's hole; there is still lots of time to go. Kazuha is next in line. If her ass is like her pussy you just fucked, you're in for a treat. But first, you make sure to sniff her clean hole, which she loves. Mina spreads Zuha's ring open, as it offers little resistance to your cock. "Holy fuck, that's so fucking good," Kazuha says as all her unnies make sure to help her, with Mina and Momo fingering her pussy, Sakura giving her a good rest on her shoulders, and Sana licking your tip alongside Zuha's ass, showing she was truly a fearless cock-lover and didn't bother putting herself on the line against your throbbing dick pounding any girl hard.

"That's fucking sexy," Sana says as you stretch Zuha's ass. "Hmmmm," all girls react at Sana's words; they love the way she talks dirty, don't they? Sana and Mina trade smiles at each other while Momo sucks Zuha's little tits as the Twice girls take care of their flexible angel friend. Sakura chimes in as she kisses Momo, while Sana sticks her tongue, ready for another ass-to-mouth from a Le Sserafim girl. "Let me fucking taste it; let me taste that asshole from your fucking cock," Sana asks and promptly receives, bobbing her head on your big prick as soon as you pull out of Kazuha.

"Let me get her next," you say as you're ready for a second round at the biggest butt of the quintet. The little Minari is ready; her eyes brighten as her turn comes, giving you her signature twerking as you eat her asshole. Mina moans as you insert your tip in her butthole, while Kazuha comes under her to eat her pussy. The girls cheer as Mina meets your thrusts with more twerking. Momo wants a taste of it as she rests her head on Minari's big, fat butt, begging for it. But you ignore her, focusing on Mina's ring as you keep clapping her cheeks.

Momo finally gets her wish but wants you to bring it back as soon as possible, taking a privy view of the anal pounding you give to her younger groupmate. "I want to taste that ass so bad before you fuck me," Momo tells Mina. Damn, this dumb bimbo is insatiable, you think to yourself. Mina's ass is an easy one to fuck, but you love how round and fat it is—truly a work of the gods. You pull out a little to tease Momo but deny her request, putting it back on for a few extra pumps; after all, there is never too much when it comes to Mina's butt.

You give Momo's ass a little tap, signaling she's next. The final girl on this anal casting couch had to get something special. And you made sure to give it to her. Momo pushed her body closer to your cock, giving it easy entrance as you had already gaped her hole. But she didn't see what was going to come next, as you mounted on her like a bull does to a cow, taking even Mina, who was to the side of her, by surprise. At that point, Momo knew she'd regret asking for that cock. "OH MY GODDDD!" she screamed as you took her hard from the start. No one was gonna help her except for a sneaky Mina who decided to lick her unnie's stretched cunt. Momo was all yours—the perfect submissive sex toy, like she is always ready to be. She can only pray as your monster cock fills every inch of her asshole. Momo loves the pain. "It feels so good," she says, as you increase the pace while Mina heats your balls up before you get so rough that you insert your whole sack deep inside Momo's sore butthole.

"AHHHHHHH~" Momo screams as her voice cracks. Your bull is worth the same as a trio of cocks stretching her ass out. The tiny dancer can only brace herself as you continue the rampage. You don't want this bitch to walk after this, and if you didn't have the other four horny girls to please, you'd probably stay the whole way, just fucking her shithole. "OH, OH, OH," Momo screams as you finally pull out of her ass, ripping it apart as your cock leaves her swollen hole. Sakura is there to taste her best friend's dirty asshole as soon as possible, diving into your cock. Momo also gets on her knees to taste herself, paying special attention to your now dirty balls, which makes Sana let out a huge laugh as she watches both team up on your cock as she kisses Kazuha. Mina soon joins in and wants a taste of Momo as well. They really like that little dancer, don't they? But Momo is the one who wants it the most, taking your whole shaft all by herself and pushing the other four aside.

"I wanna hear you choke on that dick Momoring," Mina tells her as Momo deepthroats you like a maniac. "Give me those balls." Sakura acts like a jealous wife and takes your cock away from Momo, who gets up just fine from your hard pounding. Maybe you need to go harder next time. "Let's suffocate him with our oshiris," Sakura tells them as she puts her ass in your right cheek, with Momo joining from the other side, Kazuha in your forehead, and Mina at your chin. Sana tries to sneak in, but she can't; these butts are just too big and leave her twerking in the air, but you still make sure to find hers. Sakura gets the privileged spot as the wife, fully twerking on your whole face now. "So many asses; that's a lot of asses for one lucky guy," she giggles as you take Mina's big butt for a treat too.

"I want to get smothered," you tell them. "As you wish," Sakura replies, as Mina and Kazuha are the ones taking the most of your face now. You sniff their butts in a clockwise direction, starting with Mina's, followed by Momo's, Zuha's, Kkura's, and finally Sana's, only interrupting them as you ask the next question.

"So who wants to suck my dick?" you say as all five girls answer positively. "Gives us that dick, please, please," Momo is the biggest beggar, as the girls now sit on the couch. All five girls get on their knees, but Momo and Sakura start ahead, with your wife taking her preferred spot at your balls while Momo sucks your shaft. But there is room for everybody as they move to the side for Kazuha to suck it, Mina emerges sucking your balls, and Sana appears at the bottom of the pile, rimming your asshole. Somehow they managed to have all their mouths at the same time, sucking that pole, despite the very confined space. Soon you find out what a dream Misamo triple blowjob looks like as the first two take on your dick by the side while Momo emerges like a thirsty whore to suck that tip.

You can't help but feel overwhelmed as Sana almost rips your balls apart while Momo engulfs your massive sword like it's nothing. Soon Kazuha emerges as the main cocksucker, with Sana bobbing her head against your crotch. Finally, Sana gets her turn to be the main girl, and you regret not doing it earlier, as her no-hands blowjob makes you tremble, especially with the aid of Mina licking your shaft beside her, before she lets Mina take her turn and dunks her head just like she did to Kazuha. "Look at that fucking slut gagging on that cock," Sana says as she and Mina get between your legs once more, and bubbles come out of Minari's mouth as Momo holds her younger groupmate's nose while she gags.

"Let me stand up," you tell them, but as you do, Sana is already backing down and sucking your dick once again without needing her hands. You're soon fully surrounded again, with Momo and Mina to your left, Sana in the center gagging on your cock, and Kkura and Zuha to the right. "You like that, hubby? Five mouths all over your dick and balls."Sakura asks. "Oh, yes, so good," is all you can say, your head empty of any thoughts at this point. "Fuck her pretty face," the girls tell you as Sana's mouth is too hard for you to resist and you push your cock deep in her throat. You then start passing your cock around each girl's mouths as if they are glory holes to stick your dick on and nothing else. They might be.

"So many warm mouths," you tell them. But there is much more to go. "Get on the edge of the couch," you tell them as they line up once again. This time the couch is empty, and you'll be the only one using it. You start right where you finished last time, mounting on Momo this time to fuck her slutty face. Sana's eyes brighten as you top her whore groupmate while she sucks Momo's big tits. But Momo looks so dizzy that her mouth shuts as soon as you get in. You move next to Sana, who's much more eager to take a pounding until your cock bulges in her throat. Next is Kazuha, who, it turns out, has a pretty flexible throat as well. Minari follows suit as she bubbles all over your dick. For your wife, you decide to be different and just kiss her tits, already having your next move in mind.

"Who wants to make my wife cum?" you ask all the girls. "YESSSS!" they scream in unison, surrounding Sakura as Mina licks and spits on her pussy. Sana follows suit and eats Sakura's ass. Soon, Momo kisses Sakura while Kazuha sucks her unnie's beautiful boobs as you just watch, getting ready for another round. "HOLY FUCK. What the hell?"Sakura screams as Mina and Sana tongue her pair of fuckholes to perfection and soon find themselves sticking their fingers on them. "Fuck her cunt and asshole," you tell both as they stick their fingers deep into Kkura. "Oh God, I wanna fucking cum," Sakura says as Momo looks at her romantically and gives her a triple kiss alongside Kazuha. "OHHHHH HOLY FUCK!" Sakura screams as her juices fly into Mina and Sana's mouths, and she orgasms.

The girls laugh as they successfully please your wife. Sana pulls one of her dirty little tricks and kisses Sakura's butthole, making her scream. "You girls did a good job; now it's my turn," you say as Sakura lies on the couch, Mina still with hands on her pussy. Sakura lifts her legs as you take her in the ass, with Mina still in your cock's line of sight as she remains addicted to your wife's pussy. Sana keeps her fearless spirit as she sucks on your balls even with your relentlessly pounding your wife's rectum, making Sakura scream as if she were some elite vocalist.

"You like it?" you ask Sakura as you choke her. "YESSS!" she screams, looking at you with her eyes full of lust. "FUCK. FUCK ME HARDER," she keeps screaming. Mina and Sana are the most enthusiastic, as they share a privileged view of you manhandling Sakura, spitting at every opportunity they can. You give your wife hot kisses as a depraved Momo now licks Sakura's dirty toes. "AHHH, THAT'S SO FUCKING HOT!" Sakura keeps screaming as Mina puts the heat up and finger fucks her. "Suck it, suck it," you tell the Twice pairing as Mina tastes Sakura's asshole while Sana literally grabs you by the balls with her nasty mouth.

"Let's bring the next fuck, Momoring," you say. Judging by the last few times, the girls know something insane is about to happen. And they were right, as you quickly smashed into Momo's worn-out butthole balls deep from the start. It truly is your favorite hole of all the 15 you have at your disposal. Mina and Sana stay down low and finger her groupmate's cunt. Momo gets jackhammered as you pump in and out of her rectum more than five times each second while groping her cowbells up top. Kazuha joins the remaining Twice girls under Momo, and they take turns fingering her pussy as your balls smack her clit full speed. "OH GOD," Momo begs as you spank her tits, while Sakura sits on her face to let Momo scream all over her wet cunt.

"You fucking like that in your ass?" Sakura asks Momo, who screams just like she did before. Her big tits are now your playground as you smack, suck, grope, and spank them with no regard. Momo is almost falling out of the couch, holding herself by her right leg as you continue to destroy her. "Fucking hot that whore getting pounded like that," Sana laughs as she taps Momo's pussy while Mina is now the one getting smashed in the face by your hammering balls. "That fucking asshole will never be the same," Sana says, impressed at the speed with which you pound Momo even after many minutes. "Pound it, pound it, pound it," both Sakura and Mina say. Japan's top sex toy, Hirai Momo, is all yours, and you can't help but feel on top of the world as you give her an anal orgasm with one final deep and long thrust.

Sana is already waiting with her mouth as soon as you pull out, taking on her favorite butthole like a champion. "Who wants to go next?" you ask as Sana still hogs your cock in her mouth. "I think Minari should go now; that fat ass needs a hard pounding," Sakura says as Mina takes the same spooning position on the couch as Momo and her. "Give it to me," Mina begs as she rests her head on Momo's tummy while her groupmate is fingering Mina's cunt before you even get in her asshole. You slip a little trying to get in, but Sana's helping hand ensures it isn't long before you're pounding Mina's fat ass once more. You give Mina no rest, fucking her as if you were going for another round with Momo. Big asses ask for rough pounds after all. Sana loves it the most as she licks Mina's pussy while your flying balls hit her cheeks multiple times.

"Can you take this dick like a good submissive whore?" Momo asks Mina while slapping her face, bragging that she survived the rampage you gave her just a couple minutes ago. "Yes, Momoring, I can take... FUCK." Mina can't finish the sentence as you turn up a notch. As Momo shuts Mina's screaming mouth down, Sana and Sakura giggle at each other as they team up on your cock. Holy shit does Sakura love licking her hubby's balls because she's doing it again? Mina has to use her whole strength to survive the four whores surrounding her and your big cock obliterating her rectum. Momo and Kazuha join and help you grope her little tits. "FUUUUCCKKKKK" is all she can say. Her rodeo with your bull doesn't last long as you finish her just like you did Momo, a deep thust that makes her cum.

This time, Sakura is the one who arrives first at the crime scene and does the traditional ass-to-mouth greetings. "Fuck yes, that was insane," Mina says as she steps down. "Alright, who's next?" Sakura asks, acting as the leader of the five whores. "I want the best rider on the team; who is she?" you ask. "SANA! SANA! SANA!" the other girls start to chant as this time you sit on the couch with your pole fully erected. Sana's tight hole has been a challenge for you all day, so much so that even she misses it. "Please put it in," she says, using her cute aegyo voice, and lets Mina insert that throbbing dick in her anus. "Spit on it," Sakura orders, as she and Momo also give Sana a helping hand.

You finally manage to impale Sana, as the surroundings of her asshole quickly turn red with your dick under it. But she bounces hard on your erection nonetheless, even attempting a little twerking and tilting her butt a little to hit the best spots of her rectum. Mina chimes in and licks your shaft while Sana's cute ass smashes her face, before moving up and licking Sana's cock-filled butthole. "Let's fucking do it!" Sakura cheers on Sana, who now takes your cock full length in her ass. You can't resist and try to do your best to drill her tight butthole, as you now thurst upwards and make Sana squeal at each pounding. Momo appears and sits on your face while silencing Sana with a few kisses, making you have a used-up asshole to eat with your tongue and a tight asshole gripping your cock at the same time.

Sakura appears suddenly and is now the one sitting on your face as you eat her cunt, which you used up so well last night, while Sana resumes her ride with the help of Momo. "Yes, spread my asshole," she begs as Momo pushes her down your pole until your cock finally slips out, letting Mina take a turn sucking Sana's anal juices. Mina tries to put it back in as Sana commands, but she almost puts it in her pussy instead, trying to find the already shut-down hole. "Come on, Minaring," Momo says as the Twice trio works together for Sana to have another ride as you two challenge each other with you impaling Sana from down low while she bounces as hard as she can from up top.

"Take it, take it, take it," Sana orders as soon as she pulls out, letting Momo have her moment with her clean asshole as Mina is right there for some sloppy seconds, the Misamo trio working as a perfect unit. "Give it back to me," Sana orders, still not done with your cock. "It's so fucking deep; keep pounding; pump it until I cum," she says until you finally manage to reach the depths of her anus and make her cum, as she instantly puts her hands in her asshole right after. It had been a while since a cock had made her this sore.

As Sana finishes her insane ride and Mina tastes Sana's butthole from your cock, before Sana does it herself as well, while Sakura continues to ride on your face, you start wondering something. "Where is Kazuha?" you ask, but it gets muffled under Kkura's cunt before trying a second time but not finishing as Mina and Sana team up on your cock and make you groan. As the least experienced of the five, Zuha has barely appeared in your sights lately, with Sakura and the Misamo trio handling most of the action. You finally find her, as she looks a bit lost trying to sneak between the Twice girls and suck your dick.

"Come here, baby girl," you tell Kazuha, kissing her in an almost consoling manner for leaving her out of the action. Mina comes under Zuha's tall body and licks her asshole, preparing the youngester for the upcoming pounding. Zuha turns around and sits on your lap as Sana guides your cock towards the youngster's tight ass. Zuha pants as your cock starts impaling her insides as Momo tries to comfort her by fingering her pussy. The girls cheer as your length disappears inside Kazuha's ass, Mina once again appearing to lick more pussy. "Yes, fuck that ass," Sakura commands as you push your dick up Zuha's hole. Meanwhile, Sakura and Sana take some time to have fun together as your wife sits on Sana's beautiful face.

Zuha struggles with your massive cock, twisting and screaming at each strike as you go harder and harder on her. Mina and Momo laugh at her as they are the experienced ones who have taken many of those poundings. Momo now kisses Zuha while Mina takes on the duties of fingering her pussy and grabbing your thursting cock by the balls. You take a much slower approach with Zuha, but her lack of experience shows as she feels the heat in her ass in a much easier way than the other four girls. Sakura then lifts Zuha's legs, leaving her even more defenseless. Zuha approves of it despite never taking such a rough fucking before. The girls really treat it as her innitiation, as Mina places her full hand inside Kazuha's tight pussy while Momo fingers her clit, making Zuha scream even harder.

"OH MY GOD, PLEASE KEEP GOING!" Kazuha screams as your cock and the girls' hands overwhelm her. "Look at that slut being destroyed by hubby's big cock!" Sakura cheers and laughs at her groupmate. Mina and Momo keep providing full stimulation, as the former now sucks Zuha's perky, erect nipples while Momo kisses the youngster's neck and keeps fingering her cunt. "SHIT!" Kazuha curses as Sana caresses her thighs before penetrating her as well, her long nails hitting the depths of Zuha's orgasming pussy. The Misamo trio keeps bringing the heat, as all three now have their hands touching Zuha's vaginal area.

"Make this slut cum," Sakura orders as the three Twice girls continue to work on Zuha's body. Momo now kisses her tits while Mina keeps penetrating Zuha, while Sana now kisses and chokes the youngster. "You fucking dirty slut," Sakura says as she now takes on the role of choking Zuha while Mina and Momo take turns rimming your asshole. It isn't long before they make your wife's order come true as Zuha finally cums, leading to a fight to see who will taste her ass. Sana arrives first, but it's Momo and Sakura who take the most of it before they leave Zuha for a few sloppy seconds as she bobs her head hard on your dick.

"You want another turn?" you ask Sana, feeling like you have unfinished business inside her tight hole. Sana spreads her legs as the other girls surround her. Mina keeps being the nastiest as she spits on her unnie's pink pussy. You finger Sana's butthole, attempting to loosen it up. Momo tries to help, but you decide you have no more time to wait, pushing her to the side as you stick your cock back inside Sana's asshole, struggling to stick even the tip. Mina watches from a panoramic view, her head right at Sana's tight cunt. "God damn it," Sana curses as she starts fingering herself, waiting for your hard pounding.

"I fucking love that," Sana says as Momo is now the one sticking her hands in her pussy. You and Momo move in perfect sync, penetrating Sana as she giggles at every kiss you two give her. You grip Sana by her thighs as you increase the pace, while Mina joins Momo to put a second hand inside Sana's pussy. You finally manage to hit full speed as Sana's butthole loosens up just enough for you to drill it deeper, her face and skin turning redder than her anus as you keep going. Sana becomes a screaming machine as Sakura somehow manages to sneak her hand inside her pussy as well.

"Please give me, give me, give me," Sana continues as your cock goes in and out of her tight shithole in full swing, taking long but fast and deep thursts each time. Her tight hole squeezes you so hard you have to stay collected, not cum, using Mina's mouth as a relief a few times as you pull out of Sana before sticking back in for a harder pounding. Mina now has full control of her unnie's meaty pussy, making sure to eat out every single one of Sana's folds until she cums. Mina spreads Sana's pussy lips and tongues her pussy even deeper as you stay put. You two are now working in tandem to make Sana reach her orgasm.

Sakura joins in as the helpful wife, kissing you as you continue to stretch Sana's asshole out. "Hubby likes this dirty slut's tight hole," she says, now resting her arms on Sana's head as she provides her with a cushion for your rough pumps. As Sana finally cums, you dive to taste her tight, squirting pussy, not giving a waiting Mina a chance to be the first as you reward the beautiful Osaka girl with licks that make her gush more and more juices out of her babyhole. You finally give Mina a chance to lick it as you move to Sana's red and sore asshole, appreciating the work you just did in there. "Put your tongue in there," you then order Mina as Kazuha's large hands now rest under Sana's pussy.

Mina makes sure to eat Sana's anus as much as possible, searching for the taste of your cock there. You give the girls some time to enjoy themselves, as Sakura is now eating Sana's pussy while Momo sucks her tits and Kazuha kisses her. Seeing your wife on her knees while eating another pussy makes your primal instincts take over you as you shove your prick inside Sakura's asshole without warning. "WHAT? AHHHHH FUCKKKK! Sakura screams as your thorbbing tip pokes her hole. You go all-in from the start, doing to Sakura what you just did to Momo the first time. Sakura spreads her ass, trying to loosen it up, while Mina, always her, is right there to watch.

Dueling screams ensure in your couch as you drill Sakura's ass while Momo and Kazuha eat Sana out and attempt to make her cum again. "FUCK, YOU'RE SO DEEP IN MY ASS," Sakura says as Mina now kisses and bites your wife's shiny butt. You want to make sure to make up for the lost time, ramming Sakura at full force. She has to cling to Momo's big tits in her face, biting them so hard that Momo lactates on Sakura's mouth. "Look at that fucking little asshole taking that whole big cock," Sana says dirtyly as she watches you destroy Sakura. "Look at her taking the whole fucking thing," she continues as she rests her head on Sakura's shaking butt, giggling with her tongue out while Mina fingers your wife's cunt.

"Keep that fucking asshole; stretch it out to the fullest," Sana adds. "Show your hubby the fucking whore you are," she keeps going while Momo now dives under to eat Sakura's pussy. You let her and Mina taste your dirty cock before going back inside Sakura's used-up cornhole. Mina swaps her saliva with Sana while Kazuha spits on her unnie's ass. "Put it back in her," Momo demands, enjoying the pounding she once took, and now you're delivering it to your wife. But you have different plans and want them to make your wife cum. "Lick her pussy," you ask Momo, who's followed by Mina and Sana eating Sakura's ass. Sakura and Momo now perform a 69 with your wife on top as you enjoy them licking each other.

"Fuck, you're making me so wet," Sakura tells the other girls as her hands fist Momo's meaty pussy. Mina now licks Sakura's ass by herself, and you decide to push her deeper into it as you start pounding her massive ass. The chain is now complete as Sana kisses Sakura, then Kazuha sucks her groupmate's tits, and Momo eats your wife's pussy while you bury Mina's mouth in Sakura's asshole at each thurst you give in her ass. It doesn't take long until Sana abandons the other girls to watch you destroy her little fucktoy groupmate, licking her chops as her nails finger Mina's pussy and she spits on her ass cheeks.

"Get on the floor. Let's play a little game," Sakura says as she takes your cock out of Mina's butthole and puts you to the ground. "You're gonna get 4 levels of riding: easy, medium, hard, and extreme, and you can't cum or you'll have to clean up this whole mess we're making. Let's start". Momo is the first to sit on your hard cock as the easy challenger, as you already had loosened up her butthole so much. Her ass is extremely sore, and she can barely walk, but she takes on the challenge of getting impaled. "Put that dick in that fat ass and ride that cock," Sakura says as the girls spank Momo's big butt. "Fucking juicy ass bouncing on that dick," Sana follows.

Momo doesn't last long before she collapses, her asshole completely sore after taking so much of your big cock. Mina tastes her unnie's dirty asshole, and then Momo rewards you with a deepthroat. "That's a great fucking cock," she says. Sakura steps up next, right after you have already used her worn-out hole a lot, but not as much as Momo's. "Spread that ass," she tells the other girls as you impale your hot wife. "Tell me how good this feels," Momo asks. "It feels like my hubby has such a massive cock," Sakura replies. Mina and Kazuha team up to do the spanking while Momo pushes Sakura's ass down your crotch.

Sakura quickly ends her run, tasting her hole alongside Mina right after. "So Sharon is the ass taster of the group," you say as Sana spits on your meat for Kazuha to be the next. Her tight, young ass could be the one that makes you cum. "She's got such an amazing ass," Momo says as she spanks Zuha's cheeks, and Sana and Mina take a bite of it as Kazuha starts to ride. Momo pushes Zuha's ass down as the young girl starts to scream. Kazuha gets too carried away as your cock ends up slipping out of her asshole, leading to a queefing sound coming from her tight ring. Momo and Mina are right there to taste it, but Kazuha wants something as well.

You start to pant and wonder if you could survive the extreme level as Sana prepares to sit on your boner. "Poke this slutty asshole," Momo orders to Mina, who spits on Sana's tiny body while licking your tip at the same time. Mina keeps missing Sana's tight entrance to the point where Sana takes control and puts it in herself. She's so eager that your cock slips out after just a couple bounces, forcing Mina to push it back in with a little sloppy help from Momo. Sana twerks on your cock as Mina decides to be her ass-kisser and worship her butt. The more the other girls spank Sana, the harder she bounces.

"Are you gonna cum all over this fucking dick?" Momo asks but at the wrong person. You're now the one who has to use all your strength not to fill Sana's tight butthole with your seeds. "Cum, cum, cum, cum," Momo repeats, but instead of Sana, he is inducing you to think about it nonstop. You pull out just in time to escape a romp of cum coming out of your canal, getting eased up as the five girls surround your cock to suck it. Mina and Sana take the most of it, like usual, as they warm up your cock for the grand finale.

"Time to empty those balls in your hot wife or you'll be sleeping in the cold," Sakura says as Sana sucks your shaft while Mina puts the heat on your balls. Sana guides your cock right into Sakura's butthole. "Shove it as deep as you can," she says as she starts eating Sakura's pussy. You are very close but want to last a little longer, taking pauses to feed Sana's mouth with your cock. Meanwhile, Sakura is having her best time as Mina now sits her fat ass in her face while Kazuha licks Minari's ass. Momo is now completely out of the picture, dealing with her sore asshole.

You come close once more but use Sana's mouth to bail you out at the last minute, teasing Sakura that she'll need more to earn your cum. But Sana is selfish and takes your cock deep in her throat, making you almost give in on the spot, leading you to take the safer route and pound Sakura as hard as you can. Sana finger's Sakura's now squirting cunt, sticking her tongue out to taste the juices. Your wife's orgasm is too much for you to handle, as her clenching butthole makes you finally cover her anal walls with your white paint.

Sakura releases the cum out of her ass into your recently bough carpet as the four girls fight among each other for a taste of it. Sakura gives you a big smile and licks your shaft before you request something from them.

"I wanna see the girls asses one final time," you say as the girls now get on their knees on the couch. "Yes, you are the king of our asses," Sakura responds as the girls line up. You compliment all the girls.

"Thanks for such a tight hole, Sana. Sakura, you're the best wife ever. Mina, I... don't even have words to describe that ass. Zuha, you're a star in the making. And Momo, it should be illegal to have an ass so dangerous."

"Stand up," you ask the girls as they gape their pounded asshole for you to check. Sana's butthole is completely red and stands out the most, but Mina's and Momo's aren't far behind. "I think that's it for today, hubby," Sakura says as the girls bow to your cock and crown you their oshiri king.

"Only for today; tomorrow is a different story." Momo finishes as the girls head towards the shower, disappearing from your view. "I'm truly a lucky bastard," you think as a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Hubby!"

#le sserafim smut #twice smut #sakura smut #kazuha smut #sana smut #mina smut #momo smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut

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7amaspayrollmanager · 7 months

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Alright let's imagine a scene that is all too normal in palestine. A palestinian business owner finds his building covered in graffiti stars of Davids and Hebrew that says "gas the arabs" and "death to arabs"

Now imagine there's a reporter there and asks the palestinian business owner what happens and they say "the jews attacked my business"

Pause. Now your response might be "uncle no. Say israelis not jews" and then this is when he would look at you like youre stupid because the israelis doing this are jewish. They are not the Christians or the druze or the palestinian ones with Israeli citizenship. They are Jewish israelis who believe in their religious supremacy. When you graffiti stars of david all over a palestinian business, car, or the street you seek that conflation. it sends a message, this is jewish land and you're next.

The problem is that these videos circulate in zionist circles. "Watch this video of children in gaza calling for the death of jews" "watch how they say they want to fight and kill jews" those children are referring to Israeli soldiers that come in night and do their raids with the star of David attached to their uniform or the ones that bomb them. It's easy to watch those videos and assume that palestinians are indoctrinating their children on anti semitism or you can realize that those children's only interaction with jewish ppl is through violence and parents cannot protect their children from this. Doesn't matter context is lost

Abby Martin went to Jerusalem and interviewed israelis for 2 hours and she says every israeli was extremely confident to say that this land is for them and that they should push the Arabs out and when she interviewed palestinians they spoke of freedom from occupation and their dreams. That's reality. Not the soundbites.

And yet we have invasive youtubers and interviewers constantly in the street of ramallah or wherever in palestine asking palestinians "do you hate jews?" And in those videos you hear those palestinians say "no we have no problem with jews we have a problem with occupation and we have a problem with zionism." Bc this is how we are trained to respond to this trope. Palestinians are very aware what the world thinks of us and the reality is that many palestinians have internalized it and we grow up reading books on the Holocaust and train ourselves to recognize anti semitic dog whistles so zionists don't get the soundbites they want.

So we say "anti zionism is not anti semitism" and we say "israeli zionists" and we do not say "jewish supremacy" even thought it exists in palestine but "zionist supremacy" and in these carefully worded speech we water down what is happening to us in an effort to not deter people away from solidarity. But it means nothing. The world categorically blames palestinians for rising anti semitism they blame us for jewish insecurity globally.

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munson-blurbs · 7 months

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Best friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend gets a lot more than he bargained for when he walks in on you wearing only your Hellfire Club t-shirt.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), dry humping, thigh riding, cumming in pants

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Reader is described as wearing an oversized Hellfire t-shirt. This is her shirt, not Eddie's. There is no indication of her size whatsoever.

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Your toothbrush is clenched in your hand, but instead of cleaning your teeth, it serves as a microphone while you dance around your bedroom. The stereo is playing loudly; you can’t even hear the creaking staircase floorboards over the music.

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love’s gone be—AAAAH!

Your palm flies to your chest when you see Eddie standing in your doorway, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“And here I thought I was the rockstar in this friendship,” he smirks, arms folded across his chest.

Your heart rate slowly returns back to a pace that won’t send you to an early grave. “Jesus, Eddie! What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d stop by,” he replies nonchalantly. “Y’know, you probably shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked while your folks aren’t home. Anyone could walk in off the street.” He flops onto your bed with an exaggerated exhale, looking pointedly in your direction. “Nice pants, by the way.”

Nice pants? You’re ready to sleep; an oversized Hellfire tee serving as your pajamas. You’re not even wearing—oh.

You tug at the hem, but even after years of wear, it doesn’t stretch below your thighs. Heat blooms in your face. “Yeah, well,” you sputter, “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Eddie pouts. “You mean you didn’t wear that ‘specially for little ol’ me?” He ducks as you hurl your toothbrush at his head. He opens his mouth to say something before quickly clamping it shut, but not before you notice.

“What?”

“N-Nothing.”

You cross your arms, more firm this time. “What?!”

“When you, uh, threw the toothbrush…your shirt…” His face turns bright red as he scrambles to explain. “…it, uh, kinda rode up.” His Adam’s apple bobs nervously.

“It’s just underwear. You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before.” You try to hide your own embarrassment, playing it off coolly, but all you can think about is the fact that Eddie Munson saw your panties.

He nods, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Right, yeah. Totally the same thing.” He clears his throat. “Well, I should get going.” He pushes on his knees, starting to stand up, but abruptly stops. “Actually, um, maybe I’ll hang out here for a bit, if you wanna maybe put…put something else on.” Pink embarrassment blooms in his cheeks, spreading down his neck.

“No, I’m going to bed, and you’re leaving. We can get breakfast tomorrow morning or something.” You sigh when he doesn’t move, making your way to where he’s sitting. “C’mon, time to—”

Eddie attempts to hunch himself over, but there’s no hiding the hardening bulge straining behind his zipper.

It’s only natural, you tell yourself. He’s a twenty-year-old guy; he’ll get a boner if the wind blows the wrong way. It doesn’t mean he’s into you.

“Shit, I’m sorry. This is super weird, and I shouldn’t have come in without knocking.” He buries his head in his hands. “Just…give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay.” Now’s your chance. If there’s any time to find out if he’s into you, it’s when he’s sporting a stiffie in your bedroom. “Or…I could help you with it?”

His head whips around so fast that his curls are a blur of brown. “Wh-What? Like, help me…?” He’s desperate for you to finish his sentence, not wanting to say something that makes the situation even more awkward.

“I can help you get off. If you want. Or you can just use my bathroom and, I dunno, rub one out.” You cringe at the phrasing. “No pressure.”

“Um, yeah. No pressure.” His thumbs circle each other, an anxious habit he’s had for years. “So if you were gonna help me out, what would that look like?”

You shrug, a half-smile gracing your lips. “I guess I’d do this first.” You place one hand on each of his shoulders, straddling his waist with your bare thighs. “And then I’d kiss you?”

“Mhm, please.” Eddie grips your hips as you lean in, mouths finding one another in unhurried splendor. He tastes like stale Camels and spearmint gum, only breaking the connection to trail his lips down your neck.

It’s your favorite spot to be kissed, and the way his teeth nip at your flesh, tongue gliding over the mark as though sealing it in, has you grinding down on him.

“Christ, honey,” he breathes, “you look so goddamn perfect like this.” His fingertips dig into your asscheeks possessively before one hand snakes its way up your shirt. You expect him to lift it above your head to expose your breasts, but he doesn’t.

“Y-You can take it off,” you stammer, feeling silly as you say it aloud.

Eddie shakes his head in refusal. “Next time.” Next time. It’s a promise you hope he’ll keep. “I just love the way you look in this shirt.” And nothing but this shirt, he thinks to himself.

The friction of your cotton panties on his denim pants is delectable, providing just enough pressure to your aching clit. You’re greedy in your movements but make sure to give him what he needs, too. Your pussy rubs against his clothed cock; Eddie uses the hand on your ass to help guide your hips.

“Thassit, oh, fuck,” he grunts, teased with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Right there, baby. Ohmygod, I’m gonna cum in my fuckin’ pants.”

“S’okay,” you murmur into his ear, gently biting the lobe, “‘m close, too. So close, holy shit.”

Sweat beads along his upper lip, his groans more needy and guttural. “‘M coming, ‘m coming, ‘m coming.” He babbles pathetically as sticky, wet warmth floods his boxers. You follow his lead, finishing on his somehow still-hard cock.

The immediate aftermath is filled with panting breaths and sporadic giggles as the pleasure high fades and reality sets in.

“Did we just—” Eddie starts, eyes wide in disbelief.

You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Mhm. We sure did.”

He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy from perspiration and activity. “So, um, what do we do now?” There are many unspoken questions woven into it. What does this mean for our friendship? Do we even have a friendship anymore? Was it as good for you as it was for me?

“Well…” You sit up a bit straighter, toying with the chain of his guitar pick necklace. “We can throw your stuff in the wash, and maybe while we’re waiting, we can get started on that next time you’d mentioned earlier?”

Eddie grins, kissing you with a fervor like you’ve never seen. “What are we waiting for?” He tugs off his pants and boxers, unashamed of the way he’s painted them with cum. When he notices you staring, he winks. “‘S a lot, isn’t it? Imagine how much it’ll be when I’m actually inside you.”

It doesn’t take long for either of you to find out.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #fanfic #smut

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neverevan · 1 year

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I know we all love the idea of Eddie keep flirting with Steve and calling him pet names, because he thinks he can get away with it.

But I've been thinking about Steve casually calling Eddie baby without even registering what he's doing.

Like they are standing outside the van with the hood open and Steve just tutting at him like "Eddie, baby, you really gotta get your transmission checked, this is like the third time this month" and Eddie's losing his shit, mouth hanging open in shock, but Steve has no idea and it just keeps on happening after that.

Next time it happens, they are all over at Steve's, having a movie night and Steve has El and Max passed out on him, making him unable to get up from the couch without waking them and he just whisper-yells to Eddie "Hey babe, could you pass me a beer? Kinda tied up here" and Eddie just blanks and says nothing, but gets a bottle from the sixpack on the floor and Steve says "thanks" like it's just how things have always been between them.

And Eddie's working himself into a frenzy. Has Steve got no idea about what he's doing to him? Because Eddie's been lowkey crushing on Steve since he got mixed up in the whole Upside Down business and it just got worse when he woke up at the hospital to Steve holding his hand and giving him the brightests of smiles that there was, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's knuckles, whispering a soft "Hey there sleeping beauty, how're ya feeling?" while being completely oblivious to the suspicious look Wayne was giving them. And sure, hanging out with him nearly every day didn't help the situation one bit.

But this. This is going to be the death of him.

And it just keeps on happening. Steve murmurs "goodnight baby" into the phone before hanging up, he shouts "babe, come here, you gotta see this" when Lucas ends up stuffing fifteen oreos into his mouth (which is a new personal record) and whispers "hey baby, I'm sorry, I know you'd rather do something else, but I promised Mrs Wheeler" when they're watching Holly's ballet recital, waving at her from their seats when her eyes land on them.

It all comes to a head when Eddie's stupid van breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere, on their way back from Indianapolis, after going there to buy a special boardgame for Dustin's birthday.

There's not a single car or house to be seen anywhere in a ten mile radius.

"Oh this is just great," Steve hisses as he jumps out of the car to walk around and Eddie does the same. He pops the hood and watches as a small cloud of smoke slithers out of it.

"Shit" Eddie swears under his breath. It looks bad.

"See baby, that's exactly why I told you to get it checked! Because I didn't wanna get stuck in fucking no man's land!"

"Look, I'm sure if we just leave it to rest a little..."

"Rest? Eds, come on, you know that's not how it works. We gotta walk up to the next gas stop and phone someone to tow it."

"Fuck, fine!" Eddie grunted. "But it gets dark in like twenty minutes."

They both know that they can't handle walking out in the wild after dark. Not after everything and not with all the nightmares that still tormented them most nights.

"Then I guess we're sleeping out here tonight." Steve says, dropping his hands on his hips. "You have pillows or some shit in the back?"

"Got a couple of blankets, yeah."

In the end they lay down two blankets on the bottom of the van and bundle up some old jumpers Eddie keeps in there for pillows. They lie there, facing each other in the dark.

"Hey... I'm sorry about all this" Eddie whispers, like his voice could disturb anyone out here in the middle of nowhere.

"It's okay, I just wish you'd pay more attention to stuff like this. I mean shit, babe, what if it's just you out here, huh? What then?"

"Steve-"

"I mean, I just hate to think about how shitty it would be, to be out here alone, in the dark... plus I'd worry myself sick not knowing where you are, you know?"

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not alone."

"No, no you're not alone" Steve agrees with a private little smile.

They settle into a companionable silence and Eddie's almost certain that Steve is just about to drift off, but he can't contain it in himself any longer; he has to ask.

"Hey Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Why uh... why are you keep calling me...?" He can't bring himself to say it out loud without his face heating up.

"What?"

"Names." He settles, hoping that Steve would get it.

"Names?"

He's gonna make him say it, isn't he?

"Yeah like uh... baby."

"Oh"

Even in the darkness of the van Eddie can see how the colour darkens in Steve's cheeks.

"Does it bother you?" Steve asks after a beat and Eddie just sighs out a soft "no".

"Okay."

For a long moment it seems that this is all Eddie's gonna get, but then Steve shuffles a little closer and runs a finger along Eddie's palm before taking his hand into his own.

"It just felt right, you know? Calling you that. I dunno, it was like how it was meant to be."

"That sounds kinda romantic, isn't it?" Eddie's shooting for a joke, but Steve just sighs timidly.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

"Steve-"

"Eddie... can I?" He doesn't finish it, but Eddie knows he'd say yes to pretty much anything Steve could ever ask from him.

"Yeah" He breathes with a little nod and Steve scoots even closer, placing his other hand onto Eddie's cheek. He leans in and looks him in the eyes for an impossibly long moment, making sure he's got permission one last time.

Steve whispers a soft "baby" onto his lips before finally closing the gap between them.

#steddie #these two will be the death of me #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #ficlet #fanfiction #my fic

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ohnonotthehorrors · 5 months

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You know, if any of the bats are going to kill the Joker: it should probably be Dick or Duke.

Like, I get it. 'Jason kills the Joker' sounds like the most obvious solution. But the thing is: Jason literally does not care about the Joker.

"But he's the man that killed him-" Sure. But that was a While ago. (At least if you ignore all the rebooting of the universe). Sure, Joker is a big symptom of what Jason sees as the problem. Which is: Crime needs to be controlled. Because more than anyone, he knows it won't be stopped. (It especially won't be stopped if no one is allowed to kill the bad guys).

But here's the thing. Jason's arc does not, and Should Not, revolve around Joker at all. Jason's story really never has been about revenge, and he should be Allowed to Move On from this one of the many people that hurt him. This isn't a: 'Oh Jason should learn to forgive and let go and not take revenge' this is a: 'the Joker is pathetic. Killing him just straight up doesn't do anything to Jason's arc or character.'

But Dick? Dick whose TRIED to kill the Joker? Dick who first donned the mask and tights to take revenge? Who wanted to make up for not being there for Jason? Yeah. This is the character that Would benefit from killing the Joker.

The first Robin has been around almost as long as the Joker has (both made in the same year) and it would be nothing more than divine justice for him to finally be the one to end him.

Well that's all well and good, you say. But what about Duke? What does he have to do with this?

You mean other than Duke being Awesome and he deserves to?

Duke's parents were hit by Joker gas. Pretty famously part of his character's back story. Duke has already killed a 'mirage' of Joker in the comics, which I think would be neat foreshadowing.

And think about it. The guy with light powers, the guy that works the day shift, by all means the Proof that Gotham really does care. Really does take things seriously. Why Shouldn't he get to kill off the personification of apathy?

Now the other point, and this is really just a personal vendetta, I would love Love the character that is Constantly ignored (at least by fandom) to kill off DCs 'specialist awful white man.'

The other person who should get to kill the Joker is Barbara Gordon (for self explanatory reasons) except I don't trust any writer to do it.

(She should get to beat that Thing into a white and red Pulp and shred his remains. No 'pull a trigger' no 'hire a swat team.' She gets to do it with her Bare Fists)

#do you see the vision?#I'm like barely in this fandom but the voices spoke to me #if this is too long and should have a 'keep reading' I apologize #jason todd #duke thomas #the signal #dick grayson #nightwing #batfamily #batfam #batsiblings #barbara gordon #babs gordon #oracle

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kombuuuu · 1 year

Note

NEEDD someone to write more about simp!miles and how he finally asks reader out. I love him w the trope friends to lovers i definitely feel like he would try to ask his s/o out and fail to so many times😭😭

Jitters.

Simp!Miles Morales x Gn!Reader

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

THIS WAS LIKE FIVE MINUTES ADTER MY CALL FOR POST LMFAOOO OKAY BBY I GOT U ‼️

2 + 1 Trope? Got that DOWN baby.

—

The first time Miles had ever met you, it had been the most bland, unimportant, nothing-burger of a day he’d ever been privy to living.

The weight of his classmates gazes settled uncomfortably, but familiarly, onto his back. The whispers they shared with one another having him strain to hear over the beating of his own finicky heart.

A boring, low effort slide show casted on a lazily erased white board was barely keeping him from falling asleep.

And yet his foot wouldn’t stop tapping, the nerves alighting something within him like sparks near a gas leak. The way his heart was beating wasn’t just from the whispers flown around he knows weren’t about him. (He couldn’t help it, what if they are?)

There was something else, like an anticipation boiling his blood vessels. Spidey-sense through the roof and heart rate accelerating.

He stanced his feet, twisting them slowly to shoot out of his seat when ready, as if a crazed, murderous version of him was going to burst the the door at any moments notice.

The handle twisted, his vision honed in, ears sharp-tuned to every movement the muse terry figure made.

And as the door swung open, the breath he was holding left him. Exasperation and amazement at the person in front of him, the harmless, beauty of a person.

“Ah. Mx.[Last Name], Pleasure of you to join us,” His Teacher snarked, adding a hasty ‘finally’ to the end under his breath.

Miles shot the man a dirty look before focusing back onto you, as seemingly everyone had.

You caught people’s attention from the get-go, aura leaking something trusting, something good. Like out of everyone in the world he could talk to, he knows you’d listen in earnest.

You made eye contact with him, your eyes glistening against the light of the projector, he almost sighed.

You looked away again, addressing your Teacher. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t exactly know where to go.” You politely laughed it off, disrespect to authority wasn’t exactly something you wanted on your track record the moment you got to this place.

“It’s—“ He dragged a hand down his face whilst you shuffled in your spot. “It’s fine. Just go sit next to uh.-“

Miles say up a little straighter, a silent competition with the other people in his class crawling for your attention.

“Miles. Morales raise your hand.”

He felt almost smug as he did Small huffs of disappointment coming from his undeserving peers. You smiled at him, waltzing over with a confidence he could only dream, and sat in the chair beside him. He watched you unpack your stuff as the professor drawled on, and when you caught his watchful eye, you waved.

He blushed. The whispers definitely weren’t about him now.

—

One.

You were putting you books in your locker when a small tap was placed upon your shoulder.

Catching your attention, you stuffed the remaining books inside carelessly and turned to face the subject of curiosity.

The boy you had sat next to your first date stood shuffling foot to foot before you. Nervously scratching his neck and kicking his Jordans.

“Hey I- Uhh.” He coughed, scared his voice would crack in front of you, he almost cringed at the thought. “I’m Miles-“

“Morales. I remember you.” You smiled sweetly up at him, you did remember him. It was no lie, he was kind of hard to forget. “Oh, you do?”

“I mean, you were the only one in that class willing to sit next to a stranger. And you were pretty nice about it too.”

“Uhuh, yeah, that’s me.” Only one willing? With a person like you showing up? The entire room was glaring at him.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

You closed your locker and turned back to him.

“Yeah, no problem. It was no big deal, really.” He rushed out, your presence alone making him nervous.

“Anyways I-,” he cleared his throat again. “I was wondering if you’d y’know..” He looked at you through his thick eyelashes, god he was pretty. “I’d…?”

“Wannahangoutsometime.”

You stumped for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d just said before laughing lightly. He swears he saw heaven the second you’d smiled at him.

“Yeah we can hang out, right now actually!”

Grabbing his arm and walking with him as you chatted. His breathing stuttered, unprepared for your misunderstanding of his intentions, but okay with the outcome. Having your arm linked with his, pulling him wherever you wanted to go like some puppy. Giggling and whispering to him something he couldn’t pay attention to over the sweetened sound of your voice. He was pretty damn okay with it.

—

Two.

It had been around three months since you had met Miles. And although you hated the thought, you only had your mean professor to thank. So, kudos to him.

You were into the boy, no doubt. His charming personality additional to the kind of dorky thing he had going on, you loved it. A month after the initial meeting, he had finally got the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It was probably the most adorable thing you’d ever seen watching him stumble upon his words.

Now you sat with him on the rooftop of his apartment building.

A picnic blanket had been laid for the both of you by Miles himself, and his mother had made snacks.

You had just met his mother, Rio. The sweetest woman you’d probably ever met. And by the way Miles and Rio interacted, you could only think how good of a man he was.

You can always tell the intentions of a man, by his treatment of his mother.

“Your ma is really nice.”

“You think? She’s kinda protective of me.” He turned to look at you through his peripheral, leaving enough space it wasn’t obvious. “I think it’s cute, she cares for you, y’know?” You shifted yourself to face him, the Sundown light glittering against his smooth skin. He looked beautiful here, you thought. He looks beautiful everywhere.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good, ‘s always good to know you’re loved.”

Miles’ heart stuttered in his chest, sucking in a quick breath and turning himself to face you.

“Mhmm.”

You looked up at him, leaning on your hand, drifting closer to him subconsciously.

He let himself drift as well, your voices quieting without either knowledge.

“Miles?” Your soft words questioned him, doey eyes gazing up at him, heart on your sleeve.

“I wanna—“ His sentence was cut off, a blaring siren sounding in his head, nerves.

“I think I might..—“

He huffed, mad at himself for being unable to speak.

“Do you want- Holy shit.”

You laughed, leaning back, a genuine glee in your eye.

“Do I want holy shit?-“ You giggled, he felt his heart flutter along with his disappointment (once more).

“-Not really, no.” You kept giggling, the serenity of your moment with Miles and his fumbling an apparent treat to you. He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly. Only furthering your hysteria, “Leave me alone.” He dragged the ‘lone’ dramatically before flopping back against the blankets. Huffing and staring up at you from his spot. The smile on your face was a quick fix for his soured mood, not that it was that sour in the first place. But knowing a moment of undeniable spark like that, had you smiling and giggling after, even if it led to nothing. Had his hopes and his pulse rate rising.

—

Miles was head over heels for you. He was smitten, a total and complete dog for your affection. Sitting at home sulking when you weren’t there to hang out with him. Making you add his steam solely so he can play games with you.

A puppy of a man, god he wasn’t even ashamed.

“Dude, you just need’a ask ‘em out already.” Hobie served no help to his ever growing dilemma with you, but did serve to humiliate his seemingly non-existed romantic experience. “I’m *trying, man. They just keeps misunderstanding.” “Are they taking the hint?” “What hint?” He looked up from his slouched spot in his gaming chair. Spinning the thing in circles idly. “You haven’t given ‘em a hint?” Hobie blanched at Miles, like it was some obvious mistake.

“What. Hint.”

“Oh my god, Miles.”

—

He still didn’t get it, Hobie had explained his way of ‘hinting’ to someone he liked them. Through slight touches and subtle looks, a wink here and there. But not a cringey wink (Miles would argue they’re all cringey.), the ones where you feel like you’re part of a secret. This would be helpful to him, sure. If had hadn’t done everything with you already, except the winking, that is.

He did touch you, he did catch your eye when everyone else around looked away. He kissed your forehead and held your hand. You seemed borderline allergic to walking without you arm linked through his. All of there’s things that Hobie said were couple things, he’d already nailed. So why couldn’t you just.. date each other?

“I don’t know, it’s not like that.”

“But it is,” Hobie pointed to the centre of Mile’s’ forehead and flicked. “You guys are quite literally already dating.” “No, not really?”

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

Hobie sighed, jumping off the bed and stretching his arms above his head. Miles grumbling a pouted ‘am not..’, Hobie settled him a look, taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Miles, mate, You both go to each other for comfort. You cry to each other, you find solace in one another. You touch and cuddle and sleep in the same bed.” He took another breath, seemingly needing a lot, “The only things you’re missing, are kissing each other for real. And calling each other your partners.”

“And if they end up saying no?”

“Then i’ll smash my guitar.”

Miles paused, considering the severity.

“Okay, okay i’ll do it.”

“Thank fuck.”—

—

+one

Miles had spent the better of an entire afternoon hyping himself up (and subsequently psyching himself out), before he finally had managed to make it your door and knock.

He was beyond nervous, the jitters in his bones crawling under his skin like spiders. Worse than normal, he observed.

A shuffle from inside your apartment had brought him back down to Earth. Everything suddenly becoming very real to him as you opened the door grumpily.

“Oh i’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Oh, Miles!” Your pout had almost instantly been lifted, a smile grazing your face sleepily, it was so late, he shouldn’t have come.

“I’m so sorry- It’s late. I should—“

“No!”

“No?”

It was your turn to get bashful, twisting the hem of your shirt in your hands nervously. “Stay Miles.”

He softened, posture relaxing at your tone.

“Don’t want you running away again.”

That caught his attention. “Wha-“ “I was wondering when you’d finally show up outta’ the blue.” You glanced down to his lips then back. The amber in his eyes haunting your dreams, in such a welcomed way.

Miles couldn’t take it, with the way you spoke, so soft and fragile. To the things you were saying, confident and headstrong. He couldn’t fucking take it.

His hands shot up to your face, caressing the curves of your cheeks and slope of your jaw. The trails of hair behind your ears his fingers just grazed. He brought himself down to your height once more, standing on your porch step. Like some sappy rom-com.

“Tell me to stop.” He was near breathless. You didn’t, you didn’t say a thing. You simply carded your deft hands over thick curls, and pulled him down to meet you. His eyes fluttered closed and lips met yours. He felt like crying.

Like after the months of pining for you. For trying and trying for your love, for your affection, that everything in his life had only ever led to this one point. And everything farther was his happy ending. The spiders under his skin stopped crawling, settling into the crooks of his bones and finding home. He wasn’t shaking. He was still.

And as you pulled away to breathe, ogling up at him with nothing but love to give he smiled and laughed just like you did.

ITS FUCKING 3 AM I GENUINELY HAVENT SLEPT THIS IS SO CUTE

(he is ⬇️)

#miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x you #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #hobie brown #miles 1610 #2 + 1 things

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rumisgf · 6 months

Text

PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

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toruro · 7 months

Text

— ✧ flight of the stars

"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."

you go following flights to the stars, and these cars can get us home (zayn)

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff

description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, sollie, cheol, wonu, & hannie

w/c: 13.3k

fic playlist

a/n: oh. always thank u to @gyuswhore for helping me w this, and special smooches to han for going over this w me too ^^

smut tags. oral (m receiving), pet names (baby)

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Cheol is going to kill Minghao when he finds out he somehow managed to screw himself over while training. Well, only if Minghao doesn’t kill himself first.

It was just supposed to be a regular session, doing some standard neck exercises with Wonwoo, his training partner. General training shit—you know, the stuff Minghao needs to do so his neck doesn’t snap in half the next time he races and then—pang! Pain flares up in his muscles when Wonwoo adjusts the controls on the harness around Minghao’s head a little harder, the latter losing his form in a moment of unexpectancy.

His hand flies up immediately Wonwoo stops, shutting off the controls and loosening the tether attached to Minghao’s harness, releasing all the tension. “Are you good?” he asks, taking a step closer as he takes in the sight of the racer.

Wonwoo’s heart sinks into his chest when he finds Minghao’s head and neck unmoving, staring straight down as his breaths begin to grow shaky, and—crap, his eyes are glossy and—oh fuck, Wonwoo might just shit his pants.

“Hao—” Wonwoo calls out again, this time his voice drenched with worry as he reaches out to try and untie the harness from around his friends head, but as his hand brushes over the back of his neck, Minghao shifts a little and that’s when Wonwoo hears it—a sharp gasp following by Minghao muttering under his breath:

“G-get the medic.”

His voice is labored and Wonwoo knows exactly what to do and nothing at the same time. His mind is racing because holy crap, SECTOR probably just lost their best racer for a few months, if not the entire racing season, and it’s all because of this stupid neck training session, and—Wonwoo stops himself from thinking about what this means for Minghao’s work and forces himself to scramble back, running out of the training room and down to the nursing hall.

Five minutes and several phone calls later, Minghao is being loaded into a stretcher. He doesn’t say a word though, doesn’t know what to say.

Five hours and even more phone calls later, Minghao is sitting up with a brace around his neck, and his manager and friends around his hospital bed (Wonwoo and Hasnsol are to his left while Seungcheol stands on his right).

“So you’re telling me I won’t be able to compete for the rest of the season?” Minghao finally scoffs out after a couple minutes’ worth of silence in tense air.

“We don’t know that yet,” Cheol responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the racer carefully. Minghao’s lips are curved down in a heavy frown but his eyes remain unwavering as he finally looks up at his manager.

“Fuck,” he breaths out.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Hansol asks worriedly, and Minghao knows that his friend is only just concerned for him but all the pain and frustration is already starting to bubble up inside of him.

“Like a bitch,” he mutters bitterly.

Seungcheol sighs deeply, stepping closer to the bed. He knows the situation isn’t easy for Minghao—it isn’t easy for anyone—and he’s aware of the stakes involved for the team. “Hao, you know we’ll do anything to get you back on the track as soon as possible.”

Minghao scoffs, not meeting the eyes of his manager. “Yeah. I know.”

Wonwoo nearly flinches at the stillness of his friend’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he finally says loudly, causing the other three in the room to look at him. “I messed up with the controls—it’s my fault, and I—”

“It’s fine,” Minghao huffs, tearing his eyes away from his friend. “It was an accident.”

It’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine at all and—

Deep breaths, Minghao reminds himself, but when he actually starts to think about the ache that blooms from his neck and down his spine, it gets harder and harder to keep his cool. He feels like he’s ‘bout to pop a vein from all the blood that’s rushing through his body, the only thing snapping him out of his trance being Wonwoo’s voice.

“You’ll start seeing a physiotherapist tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Best to start the recovery process early, Minghao thinks to himself, mildly calming his irritation. He purses his lips, trying to navigate the cluster of thoughts that plague his mind until he finally musters up the courage to ask, “How long is it gonna take? T-to heal?”

His friends look at him solemnly, and Minghao feels his heart sink right down to his stomach.

“We don’t know.”

“You already sa—” Minghao stops himself from saying something he might regret. “Could I actually be out the whole season?”

There’s silence until Cheol finally decides to speak up.

“There’s a chance.”

Minghao thinks he might scream.

“Hey Seungie!” you chirp, walking into the reception of your office with a bright smile. Your best friend greets you with only an eye roll as you approach his counter at the front, peeking at him from over his monitor.

“I told you to stop calling me that in public!” he whines, nose scrunched up as you laugh at the way he’s pouting.

“No one’s even here, no one’ll hear anything,” you try to reason as he huffs and turns away, refusing to look at you.

“Still!”

You sigh, putting down a brown bag on the floor before raising your hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

This time, you roll your eyes. “Yes … Seungie—”

“I hate you!” Seungkwan roars as you double over laughing. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I’m officially disowning you as my best friend.”

You gasp, stepping back and picking up the brown bag again. “Are you kidding me? And here I thought I would’ve liked to share one of my Americanos with you but I guess not …” you sigh dramatically, starting to walk away as you lift the bag to wave it in Seungkwan’s face.

“I was just joking! Come back! How could I disown you as my best friend—c’mon, you know I was just joking,” he pleads from behind you.

You grin as you turn around and walk back to him with a grin. “You’re horribly unpersuasive. Like your acting skills are actually an abomination,” you tell him, pulling out one of the cups of the cold drink and handing it to Seungkwan. “You’re lucky I love you,” you continue, laughing a little as Seungkwan snatches the cup away hastily with a bashful “thanks” under his breath.

“Okay, well ditto to you too,” he barks back. “Who else would put up with you and your ugly crying over Taylor Swift music videos?”

“Hey! Wildest Dreams is a lyrical, musical, theatrical, melodcial masterpiece! ”

“Okay, first of all, melodical isn’t even a word, and even if it was—” Seungkwan is cut off by the ringing of the office phone line. “I probably need to answer this but we are not done with this conversation,” he shoots at you.

You giggle, waving him off and heading down one the hall to get to your office, barely catching what Seungkwan is saying, or who he’s even talking to. It vaguely crosses your mind that it’s a bit too early in the morning for your office to be getting work calls, but you brush it off as you slip past your door and into your little room.

It’s a nice little space you’ve made for yourself; your physiotherapy firm was set up a few years back, and you’d even recently gone through a certification process to belt yourself as one of SECTOR’s physiotherapists. Pretty exciting stuff when you think about it—being able to work with such top-notch racers (albeit under rather unfortunate circumstances), and you get to do what you love at the same time.

Now, you haven’t actually gotten any big-shot patients yet, and you’ve started to appreciate that more recently. It’s not as stressful, and you don’t have to navigate a possibly awkward doctor-patient relationship with someone who’s dealing with what might be a career-changing injury.

You wonder when you’ll stop forgetting that your luck ran out years ago.

Just as you set your bag down and slip into your chair to answer some emails, Seungkwan is knocking on your door and walking in. “Hey, uh, this is kinda important,” he tells you, pointing behind him at his desk where he was taking the call.

“What’s up?” you ask, slightly worried by Seungkwan’s quick change in demeanor from playful to serious.

“Some doctor at SECTOR’s facility just called and—” Crap, you know where this is going already. “—Xu Minghao just fucked up his neck. Like yesterday. And he’s getting discharged from the hospital in a few hours hopefully and they’re gonna send him over right away so you can take a look and start working with him.”

You press your lips together tightly, head going slightly dizzy at the mention of his name. Of course, when you finally got yourself licensed to practice under SECTOR, you were aware of the possibility of working with him, but this feels a little too real and a little too fast.

“You good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping you out of your haze. “Lost you for a second—it looks like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, just zoned out,” you laugh stiffly, turning on your computer and taking a shaky breath. “I’m a bit nervous I guess. I’ve never worked with a professional like him—at least not yet,” you continue to say, and it’s not entirely a lie.

You are nervous, and in any other situation you would try your best to just not think about the situation but given Xu Minghao is going to step into your office in a few hours, you figure you should get to work right away.

Seungkwan steps out soon, saying, “You got this. Seriously, you’ve been working so hard for so long and you finally get to work with one of the big shots!”

Chuckling at his optimism, you finally open the email application on your monitor. Your inbox is flooded with emails, most of which are a series of X-rays and MRI scans of your soon to be patient, and so taking a deep breath, you dive in.

“Hey Hannie, did you sanitize Room C?” you ask one of your (few) employees as he steps out from the supply room behind the reception.

“Shoot, was it supposed to be C? I’m sorry, I cleaned up B, but I can go to C and get it sanitized right now—” he starts to say, turning towards the supply room at the end of the hall.

“Hey wait no it’s okay, I just asked for C ‘cause it’s a bit bigger but it doesn't really matter. Don’t worry about it—have you had your lunch break yet?”

“Nah not yet, I was just about to step into that with Seungkwan, but he’s taken a moment to grab coffee from the cafe across the street.”

You chuckle, “Already? I got him an Americano only a few hours ago …”

Jeonghan laughs out loud at that, slipping off his cleaning gloves and patting his hands down on his scrubs. “You know how Seungkwan is with his Americanos.”

“Don’t remind me—he’s crazy. I don’t know how he ingests that much caffeine and still functions like a normal human being but—”

Seungkwan’s voice cuts you off. “I know you guys are talking about me but I’d suggest you take a break and go get ready because I swear I just saw a car with SECTOR’s logo on the back pull up onto the street right up front.”

Oh fuck. You’re already starting to feel awfully nervous.

“Shit, really? I didn’t think they’d be here as early as noon,” Jeonghan says quickly, tossing the gloves and turning to you for instruction. “Anything we need to do?”

“Guys, just chill,” you say casually. Ironic, you think to yourself, because you feel like your heart might pound right out of your chest any second now. “Just handle this like you would any other patient. I’ll probably have to talk to his manager, but while we’re doing that Jeonghan can take Xu into B and just ease him into things. Lay off the tension, you know? He’s probably stressed out as is.”

“Noted,” Jeonghan nods as he walks down the hall, and then you turn to the door of the reception where you see a group of three people walking up.

You try to make out their figures; that one on the left’s probably one of SECTOR’s health directors, and the one on the right is … that’s Choi Seungcheol isn’t it? The one who sent you the emails? He’s Xu Minghao’s manager, you’re pretty sure of it.

You straighten your back when the front door opens, clutching the clipboard full of prints of the scans you were sent earlier. Setting your eyes straight, you take a deep breath and finally take in the sight of the three people filling into the reception.

Yup, there’s Choi Seungcheol … and then Cho Miyeon following behind and she’s pushing a—shit, it’s Xu Minghao in all his glory.

Well, you’re not sure how wondrous he feels right now in that wheelchair, eyes cold as he stares at the floor. His neck’s held up in a thick brace that you can see reaches down under his shirt and over his shoulders; he doesn’t look up, and for a moment you’re grateful.

It puts off the question though, the words that linger in the back of your mind.

Will he recognize you? Well, more importantly …

Does he even remember you?

You rid yourself of the personal thoughts when Choi Seungcheol approaches you, holding out his hand to you. You shake it, strong and firm as he smiles awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, thanks for making time for us today.”

“No problem,” you reply with a nod as Jeonghan comes in from the hallway. “My assistant, Jeonghan here can take Mr. Xu to one of our rooms while I talk with you two about a few things. Does that work?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Seungcheol nods, motioning Jeonghan to Minghao in his wheelchair behind him. The racer keeps his head down as Jeonghan brushes over and starts pushing him down the hall to Room B. You wonder if he’s even noticed you.

As Jeonghan goes off, you turn back to the other two still in the reception and point at your room. “Shall we?”

Once the three of you settle down, Seungcheol and Miyeon sit across from you, the former speaks up. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice—this all happened really quick and if you can't already tell, we’re kind of desperate to get him back in the driver’s seat as soon as possible.”

“No worries, please. These kinds of situations are exactly what I’m here for,” you tell them, and they both seem to crack a small smile of relief. “Now I spoke with the doctor that examined him at the hospital, and then briefly with Ms. Cho,” you say, motioning towards the woman on your right, “And there’s a general understanding that Mr. Xu’s suffered a pretty serious strain in his neck muscles.”

“Yeah, uh—how long is this going to take to heal?” Seungcheol pops in, and you sigh.

“I can give you a range, but it’s not so definite … I’d say between three to five months,” you tell him. “But again, it’s different for every patient. Muscle strains aren’t like a clean break or fracture where we can determine almost exactly when it’ll be healed … this stuff is going to take more time and it varies from person to person as well. It all kind of depends on Mr. Xu’s body, and that’s what I’m here for—to help figure out what works for him.”

“We understand that, thank you,” Miyeon nods, sitting straighter in her seat. “How often should he be coming in?”

“Hm, I’ll give you a definite answer after checking in with him today, but to estimate, I’d say around 2-3 times a week, while also using my suggestions outside of our sessions.”

You finish the conversation with the two after that, excusing yourself as you let them back into the reception before knocking on the door to Room B. Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway.

“He seems like, really sad, so—”

“Well, duh. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.

“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.

You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”

You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.

“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.

“Yeah.”

“Is it better now?”

“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”

“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.

As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?

His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.

Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.

“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” the possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.

You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.

“What time is Xu scheduled for on Wednesdays? He’ll be coming in on Wednesdays, right?” Jeonghan asks as he steps into your office.

“Uh, he’s coming in for a session from 11-2 today—which, by the way, could you set up Room C for that? I can’t remember if I already put that on the to-do list.”

“Yeah I did it yesterday after our last patient of the day, I was just wondering. You’re gonna lead it with him this time, right?”

“Yeah, since it’s the first session. You were right about him being … apprehensive—”

“Sad,” Jeonghan corrects you. “A sad, sad boy.”

“Yeah well, go figure,” you sigh out of sympathy. “Anyways, like I said, it’s understandable for him to be frustrated, so I’ll work with him at first to ease him into things and stuff. You can start taking over more of the sessions once he warms up to the whole process, and once we figure out and set a routine.”

“Okay great. Does this mean I can go out for my lunch break at 11:30?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply with a casual shrug as Jeonghan thanks you and slips away. You shift your attention back to your monitor before glancing through the initial medical reports you were sent by the hospital, and then the results of your own tests you ran during your first session with Xu Minghao.

It’s a shitty injury, you’ll have to admit. A neck strain on the muscles closest to his right shoulder, not only rendering his neck immobile for a period of time, but also hindering his abilities to move his right arm.

Must hurt like a bitch—physically and mentally—and the image of him staring down at the ground burns in the back of your mind.

With a sigh, you silently wonder if you could offer him the same solace he gave you.

Xu Minghao shows up to your office two hours later with Choi Seungcheol pushing him inside on his wheelchair, and you’re thankful to see that his stature looks much more relaxed than before. “I’ll come by at 2, right?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thank you,” Jeonghan tells Mr. Choi with a smile before taking control of Minghao’s wheelchair and strolling him into the room. You’re already there and waiting for him, standing up to greet him with a smile.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you say, thanking Jeonghan as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Morning,” he says quietly, not quite meeting your gaze. The air isn’t as thick as it was the first day, but there seems to be some invisible barrier between the two.

“How’s the pain right now, Mr. Xu?” you ask, pulling out a notepad on your computer to jot down some notes.

Your patient’s eyebrows furrow, and for a second you have a feeling this might be harder than you thought, but his next words are more comforting than anything. “Uh, can you just call me Minghao? Mr. Xu is … it’s weird.”

“Y-yeah of course, sorry about that, Minghao,” you nod with a half smile. “So could you tell me how things are feeling?”

“I guess it hurts less. I don’t really move that much so I can avoid hurting myself though—kinda in this thing most of the time anyways,” he replies gruffly, hitting the left side of the wheelchair with his palm.

“Do you stand up? Walk around at all?”

“Not often.”

“Okay so I think we’re going to try and change that soon,” you tell him. “We’ll do some mobility checks today but if it doesn’t hurt to move your shoulder a little, then I think it’s best you move as much as you can without pain. Honestly, you’re going to be injured for a while and—”

You pause when you hear Minghao inhale sharply at that, making a mental note to soften your words a little.

“—and we don’t want you to be immobile. If you can move, try to. We’ll try and get you out of the wheelchair within the next two weeks, how does that sound?”

Minghao’s ears perk up at that. “Two weeks? Only?”

You nod happily at his sudden energy and the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, you know the wheelchair is just so you don’t move your upper body too much but like I said the last time we met, the initial stages are pretty painful but once it’s over, you’ll be more mobile. Of course, you won’t be able to get back to racing and training right away, but you’ll be able to be a lot more active than you are now.”

“How long will it take before I can start training again?” Minghao asks curiously, finally looking you straight in the eye with parted lips.

The desperation is painful to watch.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, watching his shoulders deflate. “At least two months.”

“Two months?”

“At the least,” you say with a held breath.

“At the most?” Minghao asks hopefully.

You purse your lips. “At the most? … A year?”

“A year? That’s more than a whole racing season!”

“Yes but neck strains are fickle and we can’t let anything go wrong, and due to the nature of your sport, you really—”

“I think I know the nature of my own sport,” Minghao scoffs, and with the way he says it, you don’t know if you should be mad or sad or disappointed or a mix of all three.

“I—” you pause, “I understand your frustration Mr.—Minghao, but my job is to make sure you’re one hundred percent healed before you set foot on the track again, so please be patient and allow yourself to heal.”

Something about those last few words rings in Minghao’s ears, and he zones out for the rest of what you’re saying.

Allow yourself to heal. Fuck.

Minghao stays pretty much silent for the rest of the session, and you’re not quite sure if it’s out of complacency or indifference. You go through some slow mobility exercises, and figure out a good range for him to stay in for the next few days.

“Make sure you practice those movements every day,” you note once you near the end of today’s session. “I’ll send you an email listing all of them with instructions so you remember. Please try and do them every day, and it’ll hopefully speed up the recovery process.”

“Thanks,” Minghao murmurs as he carefully sits back down in his wheelchair.

“Is there anything else you’re doing in your free time right now?” you ask, trying to make casual conversation as you start to type up your list.

“Not really. I watch practice videos and stuff, I guess.”

You hum, not really responding until you finally finish the list and send it to his email. “I sent the list, you should start using it tomorrow. Anyways, I think you should try crocheting,” you tell him casually.

Minghao gives you a sideways glance as he raises an eyebrow. “… Crocheting?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug, finally turning around to face. “You know, with yarn and stuff.”

“I know what crocheting is.”

“I-I know,” you say awkwardly, slightly thrown off your game by his bluntness. “You won’t have to move your shoulders, only your forearms, so it’s fine.”

“But why?”

“It’s fun. And a nice way to pass time, especially when you can’t move around a lot. Plus, it’s always good to have something to distract yourself from—” You pause, thinking about how to finish your sentence. “—from shitty stuff, y’know?”

Minghao chuckles, and your heart swells a little when you finally see him break a smile. “Yeah, I guess.” There’s a long pause. “Shitty stuff, huh?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Shitty stuff.”

“You and your stupid Americanos,” you sigh, watching Seungwkan grin as the barista hands him his drink.

“Stop acting like you don’t indulge in me too. Getting me all those Americanos in the morning … I should blame you for this addiction!”

“So you admit it’s an addiction!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving your hands in the air. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, leaving you to sit at a table in one of the corners of the cafe. Laughing at his silent admission of defeat, you wait for your drink patiently.

It’s only a few more moments before the barista is back at the counter, calling out, “Honey lavender latte!” With a smile, you walk over, about to reach for the drink before a hand beats you to it.

Frowning, you look up at the man who’s holding your drink before you say, “Hey, I’m sorry, I think that’s my drink.”

“Uh, honey lavender latte? I’m pretty sure I ordered this,” he says. You look at him with a funny expression on your face, eyes darting between the drink you ordered and the drink that’s in his other hand. He catches your suspicion and shakes his head quickly. “It’s for my friend, I ordered for the both of us so I could get us a spot.”

“Oh,” you breath out, figuring that it probably isn’t a lie. “S-sorry for the misunderstanding. I just—” you chuckle, watching some of the tension from the man’s shoulders wither away. “I ordered the same thing—”

“Oh sorry, I—my friend isn’t here yet so you can just take this and I’ll wait for the other to come out,” he offers, watching your face, and you see something in his expression change. “Hey wait, you look really familiar,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows furrow as you silently thank him when he hands you the drink. “Uh, are you sure? I’m sorry, I just—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” you admit with an awkward chuckle.

The man shakes his head and laughs quietly to myself. “No, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere, but I’m just blanking on it right now—sorry this is probably so weird but—” The bell of the front door rings and he shoots his head to see who’s coming in, eyes lighting up. “Oh hey, Hao! Was just waiting for you!”

Hao? Mingh—

You lock eyes as soon as he walks in.

The man from before beams as he walks up to him as your eyes finally break away, and Minghao turns to his friend. “Hansol,” he greets with a small smile, and it’s a pleasant sight to see your patient—who’s more often monotone than not—seem a bit more at ease than before.

“How’re you doing? Was just waiting on your drink and—” the man—Hansol—points at you with eyes as wide as saucers, “—oh by the way, doesn’t she look really familiar?”

You chuckle nervously, breaking out an awkward smile and waving at Minghao who returns you by raising his left arm in a sort of half-wave before turning his attention to Hansol to give him a blank stare. “Yeah, she’s kinda like my physiotherapist dude.”

This time, you chuckle a bit more genuinely, eyes darting between the amused smirk that’s just barely there on Minghao’s lips, and Hansol’s agape stare.

“Ohh shit, yeah that’s where I saw you! Cheol and Miyeon were talking about you when they were booking you for Hao at the hospital, and I saw your picture on the screen,” Vernon explains as the realization hits him.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly. “That’s funny,” you reply as you turn your attention to Minghao, “Good to see you’re getting out of that wheelchair. I bet it feels nice to finally stretch your legs and stuff,” you say. If Minghao could move his neck without eruptions of pain, he’d nod his head.

For now though, he settles on smiling and saying, “Yeah, it’s refreshing.” His eyes wander around you, taking in how you aren’t dressed in your usual work attire, but rather clad in a cute outfit. “Is that my drink?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he points at the coffee you’ve just taken a sip of.

Hansol laughs and shakes his head. “You two got the same drink so when it came out, I just let ‘er have it, since you weren’t here yet.” He glances around before putting his drink down at a nearby table. “Shit, I think I left my laptop in my car,” he murmurs, looking at his friend. “I’m gonna go get it so I can show you those videos I was talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s chill,” Minghao agrees. Hansol smiles at you and then his friend before quickly retreating from the cafe to get to the parking lot, leaving you and the tall man standing in silence. It’s a few passing moments where you awkwardly sip on your drink before something pops in your mind.

“Hey, it’s actually really funny that you’re seeing me right now because—well it’s not funny funny, but it’s a nice coincidence so I guess that counts as funny but—anyways, look, I crocheted this cardigan.” You smile, lifting your arms a little so he can see the dark, navy blue fabric you made yourself, before turning around to show off the light blue, striped pattern on the back. “Cool, right?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty. Nice color scheme and all,” Minghao agrees.

“Thanks. Have you started crocheting? I can send you some videos to get you started,” you offer. Just as Minghao is about to reply, the barista from behind you calls out another order of your drink, causing both of you to glance back. “Oh, you wait there; I’ll get it,” you say, putting your drink down on the same table Hansol did before walking over to grab Minghao’s drink and hand it back to his left hand.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” he says as your fingers brush over each other before falling back to your side. “Isn’t your friend waiting for you?”

“Of course I have to. I’m your doctor! I can’t make you do that,” you reason before pointing back at your best friend. “And are you talking about Seungkwan? Looks like he’s having the time of his life doing—” You turn your head around to glance at him before looking back at Minghao, “—doing god knows what on his phone and—”

“Are you talking about me?” you hear Seungkwan’s voice calling from a few meters away, and the way you cringe has Minghao stifling a giggle. “All good things I hope!” he continues.

“You know it!” you shoot back sarcastically, only to be followed by Seungkwan’s rolling eyes. “That little shit. I pay his bills!” you exclaim, a faux frown making its way onto your face.

Minghao laughs, his head throwing back a little. The small movement flares up a bite of pain in his neck, causing his breath to get stuck in his throat, eyes widening as he slowly shifts back into a comfortable position.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly.

If Minghao could shrug without feeling like his neck would snap in half, he would. Instead, he raises his eyebrow playfully when he says, “Are you seriously apologizing for being funny?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m retracting my apology.”

It’s been around three weeks since you started working with Minghao. He’s warmed up to you a fair amount, and ever since you saw him at the cafe, the air around you two has been lighter.

It’s still a bit awkward at times—skitting around the moments where you wonder if you should say something about the elephant in the room before shaking your head and biting your tongue. Then again, given how often you see Minghao, you’ve gotten used to it.

Seungkwan stops by your office this morning when he walks into work. “Morning,” he greets, dropping a small brown bag by your desk as you file through some papers.

“Ooh, thank you,” you tell him gleefully, taking a break from your task to glance at the chocolate muffin that sits inside of the bag. “I’ve been craving this,” you admit, reaching in and picking out a small piece to stuff into your mouth.

“Your welcome,” Seungkwan sighs, sitting down on the seat in front of you. “Anyways, I found something cool that I don’t think you told me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him skeptically. “Yeah? What is it?”

“You and Xu Minghao are from the same hometown!”

You roll your eyes. “Why do you still keep calling him Xu Minghao? He’s told us to just say Minghao, and even if he didn’t, it’s awkward when you say his full name like that.”

Seungkwan scoffs at you, reaching his hand over to try and flick your forehead but you dodge. “Because he’s Xu Minghao. I can’t believe you aren’t still jumping up and down for getting to work with him, seeing how much you love SECTOR.”

“You want me to be happy that the best racer from my favorite team is injured?”

“Ugh, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever,” you shrug, a small hint of a smile peeking from your lips.

“Anyways, you didn’t answer what I actually said. Why didn’t you tell me you guys are from the same area? That’s so cool!”

“I mean I guess,” you say with a shrug.

“And you guys are the same age so—wait, did you go to school together? Oh my god, are you guys like—I don’t know, long lost best friends or something?” Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be so cool—I could totally see a movie on this and—wait! If he’s your long lost best friend, where does that leave me? You better not replace me with him!”

You laugh at the progression of his thoughts, almost choking on your second bite of the muffin. “We did go to school together,” you admit. “It’s not like we crossed paths though. He kinda just, I don’t know, existed back then. So no worries for you, you’re not getting replaced any time soon … unfortunately,” you add with mischievous giggle.

“Better not …” Seungkwan huffs.

Minghao comes in a few hours later for his afternoon session. Jeonghan works with him for the first two of the three hours, and you walk in for the last hour. You go over some more mobility exercises, before finally sitting down so you can discuss his progress.

“So things are going really well,” you start to tell him, beginning to list off a couple signs of development which stood out to you. You’re about to commend him on keeping up the exercises everyday, when you notice him staring at the floor with a blank expression. “H-hey, Minghao?” you ask, clearing your voice when he doesn’t respond. “Minghao.”

His eyes shoot up to yours, shoulders tensing for a second before he lets out a deep breath. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

You chuckle nervously, wondering if it’s okay if you probe just a little. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Minghao replies casually, but you catch the way he doesn’t meet your gaze. “Just thinking about last night’s race.”

“Oh, Singapore?”

“Yeah.”

“I was able to catch a bit of it last night, but I passed out. It seemed intense though—you see Kim’s pit stop?”

“Yeah, it was kinda insane,” Minghao says breathily. His expression is unreadable, but he’s continuing to respond and so you choose to let things go on naturally. “He’s been living up to his talent now that his shitbox is back to what it’s supposed to be.”

“Can’t imagine how frustrating it is.” Fuck, when Minghao’s shoulders drop, it feels like you said something you probably shouldn’t have.

I can imagine, Minghao thinks after hearing your response, but he bites back the words. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly instead.

Silence. This seems like a good chance to change the topic.

“Uh—” Sorry, you want to say, but you choose to hold your breath instead. “I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“We can get you out of the neck brace today,” you tell him happily.

Minghao’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yeah, your progress has been great. Didn’t want to tell you earlier to get your hopes up, in case something went wrong, but everything has been looking really good and you’re at the point where we usually take any supports like braces off.”

Minghao grins, and it’s a stark contrast from the grim shadow cast on his face just moments earlier. You take a few moments to go over the procedures with him, helping him out of the foamy, firm brace with gentle hands and watchful eyes.

“How’s it feeling?” you ask, setting the brace down by one of your counters so you can dispose of it later.

Minghao lets out a low groan of what you can only assume is relief when he looks up. “Like my skin can finally breathe,” he sighs heavily, a bright smile taking over his features as you turn to face him.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, before beginning a quick examination process of the area under the brace and going through some quick motions.

“All done?” he asks. When you nod, he continues. “Kinda early, huh?” he say pointendly, and you both quickly glance at the clock on the wall: his session is supposed to end in 43 minutes.

“Oh yeah, uh—actually … I was wondering if you wanted to try something?” you ask tentatively, and Minghao senses your hesitation. “If you have the time.”

Raising a brow, he nods. “Yeah I don’t mind, what is it?”

“One second,” you tell him, getting up and leaving the room to grab something from your office. Shyly, you walk back in and to your seat, all while holding up a brown bag. “Just some old crocheting supplies I thought you might like,” you murmur, placing it down on the counter.

Minghao presses his lips together tightly, not expecting your words. “Oh, uh—I haven’t really … I haven’t taken up crocheting yet. Sorry, uh—”

“Oh yeah,” you say quickly, holding a hand up, using the other to show him the contents of the bag. There’s some balls of yarn and hooks in a little mess, and you reach in to take some out. “I figured—it’s pretty intimidating to take up by yourself but,” you sigh. “I think it’ll be really nice for you. I recommend it to a lot of my patients who can’t do their regular activities and hobbies … and now given your brace is off, your vision will have more range and it might be really fun for you. No pressure if you don’t like it, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show you the ropes,” you admit, holding up a ball of blue yarn.

Catching onto your pun, Minghao chuckles and replies, “Sure, why not.”

“Okay great,” you say excitedly, dropping the bag and pulling your chair up in front of him and next to the table, pulling the supplies out.

Minghao is patient as you show off the different yarns and hooks, explaining the very basics in great detail. You can’t quite tell if he’s being so obedient out of genuine interest, pity, or simply polite compliance, but for whatever reason, you’re thankful. Soon, you’re showing him how you do it yourself before handing him one of your spare hooks and the ball of yarn, letting Minghao test the waters for himself.

“Yeah, just do that and—wait,” you mutter, reaching over to adjust the way he’s holding the hook. Your soft fingers gingerly brush over his knuckles, and Minghao finds himself getting lost for a moment. As you innocently fix the position of his fingers, his stomach churns in a manner he can’t quite name. “You got that?” you ask him suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, zoned out again. What was that?”

“Singapore really got you thinking, huh?” you muse before shaking your head and laughing it off.

“Sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, I was just saying you should position your thumb like this or else you might start to cramp up really fast. Happens to me like crazy but I didn’t fix my habit and now I just gotta crochet through the pain.”

Minghao looks at you with an odd expression. “Crochet … through … the pain?”

“That sounded cooler in my head, my bad.”

Minghao laughs. It’s not a tight chuckle, or a soft giggle, it’s a laugh. And it’s bright and full and tugging at your heartstrings in a way you’d rather ignore. “It’s okay.”

“Anyways … here, I’ll show you how to start off with a slip knot and then we’ll take things from there,” you instruct.

Slowly, you walk him through the steps. You learn that Minghao is a good learner. He’s intuitive, but it’s not that you expect much different—you figure no one can get to the level he’s at without being quick to pick up on things.

You’re soon showing him how to start a simple chain, the yarn and hook still in his hands as you work him through the process. “Yeah, now you just gotta yarn over like this—no, the other way, just like that … and—yeah … yeah!” you exclaim excitedly when Minghao slips the hook right through, lengthening the chain. “You got it!”

“Really?” Minghao asks. “Simpler than I thought,” he admits aloud, and you nod vigorously.

“Yeah … crocheting looks hard from afar but once you actually get the hang of it, it’s as easy as breathing,” you explain, softly taking the yarn and hook from his hands and showing how it looks once you build in more loops.

He watches you carefully—the way your fingers so gently, with such precision; how your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you focus in on the task at hand, tongue unconsciously sticking out from the corner of your mouth, and—

“You’re really good at this,” Minghao murmurs quietly, and you swear he’s so close, his warm breath fans down on your cheeks. You gulp, pausing what you’re doing to look up at him.

“My mother taught me. It’s been a casual hobby ever since.”

You feel Minghao’s eyes bore down on yours intensely, wondering if he’ll respond. Something is screaming at you to pray he’ll keep his mouth shut.

Minghao doesn’t say a word, thankfully. Still, the possibilities of what could be running through his mind haunt you.

You think you should start feeling guilty. You think you should already be feeling guilty when you start to look forward to seeing Minghao. He’s your patient for fuck’s sake—you should be happy he’s not holed up in here everyday.

Still, there’s a weird feeling that festers in your chest when you think about him.

Minghao, and the way he’s so persistent, so patient, so attentive with all the exercises and information you tell him. Minghao, and the polite smile he throws your way at the beginning of each session. Minghao, and the way his eyes light up.

“We’re going to try some new mobility exercises today,” you tell him today with a grin, standing up from your seat. Minghao’s ears perk up as he catches the bright look on your face, and something inside of him swells with hope.

“Really?”

You smile and nod in return. “Yeah! I mean your recovery has been really great so far and I think this is a good point to move on and see if we can test out an even wider range of motion.” Minghao doesn’t really say anything in response, but the way his eyes light up when he watches you explain the exercises tells you enough.

In the hour that follows, you two walk through the exercises, trying out each one, and you’re almost three quarters through all the motions you planned today right before you show him how to angle his shoulder before a new exercise.

“How are things feeling? Anything hurting? Anywhere?” you ask anxiously as Minghao comes out of the last stretch you showed him with a pleasant look on his face.

“No, not like pain pain,” he says casually, leaning back into the chair. “Not the kinda pain from the strain, but I feel a bit of tension on my shoulder from keeping it in that position for too long.”

“Okay great,” you say, typing it down onto your digital notepad. “We’ll try and switch up that one next time so your body is completely relaxed from now on.”

“Thanks. What’s the next exercise?” Minghao asks curiously upon taking in the information. You vaguely think to yourself about how you enjoy his growing warmness—he’s been a lot more positive these past sessions with his rapid progress, and it’s bringing a much lighter atmosphere to Room C.

You explain the movement to him, explaining to him how to lift his shoulders just enough to circle them backwards without too much movement. It’s going pretty smoothly like the other exercises; you explain, Minghao listens, you adjust, Minghao lets you.

Right now you’re about to lean in, hands brushing over his shoulder blade to guide them to a more steep angle, explaining to Minghao how to fix his posture. Your fingers brush over his collarbone and jaw a few times in the process, your eyes keeping steady on making sure he doesn’t make any abrasive movements.

“There we go,” you tell him after showing him how to do the circular movement with his shoulders. “Why don’t you try it by yourself?”

Shooting you a thumbs up, Minghao complies, lifting his shoulder forward first slowly. He’s going through the motions of everything pretty normally—after all this is just like any other exercise so he doesn’t really worry that much until—fuck.

Holy shit, that quick but sharp pain stings so bad.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly when Minghao stills, his eyes widening.

So much. So fucking much, Minghao thinks to himself.

“Talk to me,” you say, moving closer to him so you can move your hands over his shoulder and lead them back down to a natural position.

“It h-hurt for a second. Really bad, but then it was gone,” Minghao says breathily. You purse your lips together and Minghao feels his heart sink to his chest when you turn around and type some stuff he can’t read from where he sits. “Is this like—” He needs to pause to collect himself so the nerves don’t get to him. “—is it bad?” When you hesitate to respond, Minghao already knows his answer. “Fuck.”

“Look, it’s just hurting in that spot for this exercise. The rest of your progress is amazing, but we’re just going to need to take it slower since you’ve probably just overexerted the muscle a little bit.”

“So I’ve been set back, basically,” Minghao says bluntly, his tone doing a full 180 from just a few moments earlier.

“Not a setback …” you sigh. “Just a sign that we need to go slower right now.” You watch him worriedly when he presses his lips together and doesn’t meet your gaze.

“So a setback.”

You gulp. “You can’t think of this like that. I told you from the start that progress is never linear and—”

“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Minghao breaths out, and something about the way he says it with such a curt, tense tone almost makes you lose your composure. “This is—fuck, this my career okay? I can’t afford any setbacks.”

“I know that and that’s why I’m your doctor, okay?” you say, a bit more harshly than you intended.

You don’t understand why you’re letting his hostility get to your head all of sudden—it isn’t like you haven’t had frustrated patients before. Fuck, you’ve had people cry, sob, break down in this same room over slow progress but something about the way he looks so disheartened has your heart clenching.

“I’m here to help you,” you reiterate, your tone more composed than before. “But I can only do that if you let me.”

Minghao eyes flicker between your wide eyes and his hands in his lap. There’s a growing knot that ties in his throat, and he’s too afraid to open his mouth to speak, too afraid of what he might say. Instead, he just huffs and stands up.

“Sorry,” he finally musters up, eyes trained on the ground as you watch him carefully for his next move. “I’m leaving.”

You don’t stop him as he walks away.

When Minghao walks into the reception a few days later, he’s not surprised to see that you aren’t the one greeting him. He thinks back to the way your lips were pressed into a tight line when he walked out last week. It was the last time he’d seen you in the past few days, and some weird mix of worry swirls in his stomach.

Were you avoiding him? He wouldn’t blame you if you were, but he feels guilty for thinking that way. You wouldn’t let something personal get in the way of your work, Minghao knows that for sure.

Still, he bites his tongue when he briefly considers asking Jeonghan where you are. Would that be overstepping? It’s not like there haven’t been sessions where you weren’t there, but something about the thickness in the air around him tells Minghao that there’s something he should be worried about.

As if he could read Minghao’s mind, Jeonghan speaks up. “Doc’ll come in around the end. It’s her mom’s birthday so she’s out for most of the afternoon, but she’ll be back for the last half an hour,” he says casually, not really expecting to turn around to see Minghao looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“H-her—” Her mom? Minghao wants to ask but something stops him from saying it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not here. Something feels wrong. “That’s fine,” he mutters, pursing his lips before looking at the ground.

He can feel Jeonghan’s curious gaze burning into the back of his skull, but Minghao only doesn’t move as he keeps quiet. They soon fall into the regular pattern of starting off with mobility exercises before doing a check of his range of movement.

It’s nearing the final hour of his session when Jeonghan excuses himself for a moment. Only two minutes passes before there’s a knock at the door, and then some footsteps leading in.

“Good afternoon Minghao,” you greet softly upon walking in. The man glances up at you, eyes widening when he takes in your figure.

“Oh—uh, hey.”

Minghao wants to bash his head into the wall. Hey? Seriously? That’s all he could muster up? Hey?

“Jeonghan gave me the rundown,” you tell him, looking away as you lift a clipboard and squint to read the tiny text. “No more sharp pains … returning mobilily …”

You hum slowly as you read off the notes your assistant left for you, not meeting Minghao’s gaze. He wonders if that’s what you intended. “Seeing as things are going smoothly for now, we’ll continue with the low-risk exercises and—”

“I’m sorry,” Minghao blurts out. He wonders what compels him to do it, but when you finally meet his gaze, he realizes that he just wanted you to look at him.

“Mi—”

“I’m sorry for how I acted last time. I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you. I was frustrated and took it out on you, and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”

Your lips are pursed by the time Minghao is finished. He’s said enough, but when he peers up at you, his eyes speak a story of their own.

“It’s okay,” you respond with no hesitation, before turning back to your clipboard, scanning over it a few more times and then setting it down.

You smooth your hands over your lab coat, and for a moment Minghao wonders what it would feel like to have your palms run down his neck, pressing into his skin so gently yet with such fervor, fingertips ghosting over—

Minghao shouldn’t think like this.

“Jeonghan told me that it’s your mom’s birthday,” he finally breaks the silence. It’s the first time either of you have actually brought it up, and the reality of it all—fuck, it’s hitting you so hard that there’s already tears pooling in yout lashline.

You silently curse yourself for forgetting to tell Jeonghan not to tell Minghao anything. It’s okay, it isn’t like he knew any better, you tell yourself as you blink rapidly, trying to shoo away the tears.

“Mhm,” you hum, hoping he doesn’t probe any deeper. You aren’t sure what you should say.

You’re silent, and Minghao itches to reach forward, to rest his hand on your shoulder, to smile at you, to say all the things he’s been thinking about you but he just can’t. All he can manage is to clear his throat, causing you to look up at him expectantly.

Fuck, what should he say? “I’m um—I’m glad. Glad that she’s uh—that everything worked out.” That’s fine, right? There’s nothing wrong with that statement, Minghao’s almost sure of it so … so why in the world are you crying?

Shoot, did he fuck up? You’re sitting in the chair right next to him, head in your hands as you cover your face and turn away; your cries are soft but just loud enough for Minghao to hear over the rush in his ears, just loud enough for him to feel the ache, just loud enough for him to get the message.

Oh.

The first time you meet Xu Minghao, you’re in middle school. Seventh grade and walking into Algebra, going to sit down on your regular seat. Five minutes into class and a new boy walks into the room, handing your teacher a slip before being directed to sit down at a spot a few tables over.

He’s got short, dark hair, cat-like eyes, and a bit of tall, lanky figure as he slinks down into the chair. Your teacher claps her hands together and announces that there’s a new student in class. His name’s “Xu Minghao,” she said.

You don’t really remember his name at first. It isn’t uncommon for there to be new students on campus. He’s not in many of your other classes you realize as the day goes on, and so he slips your mind. Maybe you work with him for a few assignments throughout the year, but not enough for you to wave at each other when you pass the other in the hallways.

Five years later and you’re in your final year of high school. Time has passed, you have changed, Xu Minghao has changed, but what remains the same is what you are to each other. Strangers.

You’re paired with a stranger for your final senior Literature project.

“Do you want to write a paper, or do the poster?” you ask as he sits down next to you once the pairing assignments. Your teacher had given you two options on how to go about the project. “I don’t really mind either or,” you admit.

Minghao hums, setting his copy of Macbeth on the table before turning to you. “Poster? I think I’ve done enough writing in this past year to last me a lifetime,” he tells you with an obvious sigh.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Were you in Biology?”

He nods. “Regretfully.”

“Oh so you also had to write that whole research paper. Damn, that thing had to have shaved at least ten years off my life.”

“Ditto,” Minghao grumbles, running his hands over his face. “Oh god, just thinking about it is making me queasy. I’m so happy we’re in our final semester.”

“So we agree on no paper, just the poster?” you finalize.

Minghao agrees, “Yeah, that’s great.”

One week later and Minghao is at your doorstep. “Cool set up,” he notes, stepping into your room, looking down at the poster splayed out with markers all over.

You grin. “Thanks—I kind of like being artsy and stuff sometimes so I was pretty happy to do this when you said you also wanted to do the poster.”

“Seems like I made a good choice then,” he replies, sitting down on the opposite end of the poster and pulling out a notebook and his book. “I did some work and got a bunch of lines that we could use as citations in different parts.”

“That’s great,” you say, picking a pen. “Let’s get started then?”

You two get straight to work, and all goes smoothly. Minghao is a good worker, you’ve noticed. His friends are quite fun—you’ve seen him with them in the hallways sometimes—but you start to realize that Minghao doesn’t let himself sacrifice his work ethic for fun.

You make quite some progress over the next hour or two, and you’re just about to bring up one of your ideas. “So over here, I was thinking we could write out the context of the play and then—” You’re cut off by the voice of your older brother at your door. He’s looking down at his phone with his lips pressed into a tight line as he speaks.

“Mom’s starting another cycle of chemo this Thursday so—oh, sorry,” Beomgyu says quickly upon looking up and seeing you have a visitor. “Come to my room when you’re done,” he mutters before turning on his heel.

The silence that envelopes your room is deafening.

You don’t say a word as you take a deep breath and pick up a different colored marker. You clear your throat. “So back to what I was saying …”

The next time you work on the poster, it’s at Minghao’s house.

You wear a blue gown at graduation. It’s a sunny day in June, and you’re sweating a little through the silk fabric, but it’s okay.

Your father and Beomgyu are there in the stands, but your eyes can’t help but be pulled to the empty seat next to them. Your mother said she’d try to make it, but broke the news last night that it was a dream too high up to reach.

It’s okay, you had told her, but as you clutch your diploma close to your heart, all you can think is, no it’s not, no it’s not, no it’s fucking not.

You sit through the rest of the ceremony with a silence and all around you, you see your peers’ smiling faces, the encouraging words of the dean, the cheers of the crowds, and somehow you feel so lost in it all. When you’re finally dismissed, everyone claps and revels once more, but somehow you can’t find the voice in your throat to join them.

Slipping through the crowds of people who line up to take pictures with their friends, family, and all the sort, you slip out of the small stadium and into some hallway.

“Fuck!” you finally cry out, raising your hand up and whipping it forward towards the brick wall. You wince, bracing yourself for the pain, but the sting never comes. Something warm envelopes your wrist, and when you finally blink your eyes open, you see a stranger.

“I don’t understand what you’re going through,” Minghao finally says. “I won’t pretend I do either, but it’ll be okay.” He hugs you and your face is pressed into Minghao’s own blue gown that is about to turn a few shades darker.

You cry. You cry harder than you think you’ve ever cried before.

You don’t know what it is about the way he speaks. Maybe it’s the way he holds you. Maybe it’s the way he smells. Maybe it’s everything, but whatever it is or isn’t, you don’t stop crying and for a gracing moment, you bask in catharsis.

And then, you hear Beomgyu’s voice calling for you from a nearby hallway, so you pull back. Minghao presses his lips together and lets you go, hands dropping to the side as you wipe away the tears. There’s a darker blue splotch in the middle of his chest, but he says nothing of it.

You don’t say a word as you step back—the only communication you share is a nod, but you swear on every last star in the sky that he has said more words to you in that moment than anyone has told you in your entire lifetime.

You don’t see Minghao’s face until it’s seven years later and he’s plastered on the screen as SECTOR’s newest recruit. He’s got phenomenal potential as an F1 racer—greatest new talent in a while—you hear the host of the channel say, but as you look at his picture on the screen, all you see is the face of a stranger who’s held you tighter than anyone before.

The last time you saw Minghao, it was through tear-blurred vision as you scurried out of Room C—you had to tell Jeonghan through broken sniffles to wrap up the session with Minghao—that the weight of the day had gotten to your head and that you needed to take a breather.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You retreated to your office soon after, staring at the photo of you and your mother that sat at the corner of your table, and then you cried a little more.

It’s the next day when you’re back in the office. Two patients had just finished up, and you’re sitting in your office, filing through some emails when you hear the familiar ringing of the front door opening. You furrow your eyebrows to yourself, not recalling having any other patients scheduled for at least another two hours.

Had Jeonghan and Seungkwan taken their break earlier than you thought? No, that can’t be possible because they always let you know when they’re heading out and—

“Doc!” you hear Seungkwan’s voice call out to you from down the hall. “Could you come here for a sec’?”

Frowning, you close your laptop and stand up, walking out the doorway and down the hallway towards the front entrance of the clinic. “What is i—oh.” The question dies on your tongue when you see Minghao standing in the reception.

Something in your stomach churns at the sight of him—eyes slightly blown out, lips parted but somehow curved downward in a way that has your own lips frowning. The events of the past few days crashes down on you, and you bite down on your bottom lips in hopes that it’ll ground you in reality.

Seungkwan stands behind the main desk, looking at you with some sort of awry expression, and you catch Jeonghan coming down from the other hallway to catch the odd situation. Minghao doesn’t seem to mind though, eyes zoning in on you.

“I need to talk to you,” he says. You feel Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s gazes burn into the back of your skull.

Glancing at them, you point to the door. “You guys can take your lunch break now,” you tell them before turning your attention to Minghao. “Let’s go to Room C?”

He follows you in an instant, slipping into the seat that he always does as you close the door behind you and walking up to stand in front of him.

You can hear the words already coming together on his tongue—I’m sorry—and so you open your mouth before Minghao can even say it.

“I’m sorry,” you say, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

“No, I—I shouldn’t have said anything. I had no idea you—” Minghao stops himself. He doesn’t know how much is too much.

It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since graduation.”

“Me too,” you respond in an instant. “I see so much of myself in you,” you tell him.

“Stop, I—our situations aren’t comparable and—”

“Let me be the judge of that, yeah?” you cut him off with a small smile and through tears, cupping his face. The skin over his cheek bones are soft when you run your thumbs over them. “When everything is going wrong and you’re so angry, and you’re blaming all the wrong people but you can’t help it, and it makes you feel worse and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”

“Yeah.”

You inhale steadily, feeling hot water meet your hands and trickle down to your wrists. Minghao is crying, and suddenly you are hit with waves of deja vu. “I get it, okay?” you tell him, even though you know that Minghao already knows. You get it better than anyone. “It’ll be okay.”

The echo of his words from all those years ago crashes down on you, and suddenly Minghao pulls your arms down causing you to hunch over so your face is right in front of his.

“I’ve thought about you everyday since then.” The words come out of your mouth in a soft whisper. “Even when she passed away a few months later.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes closing and head titling forward so that your foreheads press against each other. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, stroking his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry—you were right. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I—I’m sorry, I just—”

Something about the way Minghao says the word sorry not from his throat, but from his stomach, has your mind twisting in ways that you can’t comprehend. The sound is so guttural and heart-wrenching, and this time you want to cry because he’s got nothing to be sorry for. Not a thing.

And so you kiss him.

You kiss Minghao because he is no longer a stranger. Because he is crying for you and you might as well cry for him. Cry for him, but you have done enough crying to last you a lifetime and so you kiss him instead, because they speak the same words: I love you.

And his lips are soft, his tongue warm, his hand ghosting over your arm is gentle, and you can hear it. You hear it in the way he moves against you—he understands and you want to cry again because he’s always understood, and so you don’t cry but only kiss him deeper.

“I made you something,” he admits. “It’s in the car.”

You’re thankful you sent your two coworkers out when you did, sparring all four of you the awkwardness when you and Minghao slip out of Room C and out the clinic towards the parking lot and to his car.

He pulls a blanket out from the passenger seat. It’s hardly big enough to cover your lower half but it’s bright and blue and warm, and somehow you feel your eyes well up with tears that you can’t seem to stop this time.

“Did you—did you make this?” you choke out as Minghao stands in front of you, handing the cloth over as you run your palms over the loose threads and yarn that poke through.

“Crocheted it myself,” he tells you, standing from a couple inches above, as you marvel over his work. Minghao thinks he’s done a poor job—you could probably do better—but you clutch the blanket with such vigor that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you. “You’ve helped me so much,” he says instead.

“Fuck,” you mutter over harsh breaths. “Y-you made this.”

“You taught me,” he corrects, and that’s when the dam breaks.

And this time Minghao hugs you, and you can tell he’s being careful about his neck and in all your frenzy you almost want to push him away and say, “Don’t move so much!” but then his arms fold in on you like a blanket of their own and you crumble.

You crumble into happiness because through everything you’ve ever been through, Minghao still holds you tighter than one holds onto life itself.

“I don’t think I can come here on Sunday next week,” you tell your boyfriend as you peer down at your phone. You’re leaning over his kitchen counter going between looking at some emails and glancing at the screen.

Minghao groans, and you bite back a smile. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Yes I’m serious,” you huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “My brother’s visiting town for a bit.”

“And I can’t meet him, why?” Minghao asks with a raised brow.

You laugh. “Good point. I haven’t told him I’m dating yet though. Might be too big of a ball drop if I tell him I have a boyfriend right away. A boyfriend who’s SECTOR’s best racer, might I add,” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water from the fridge before joining Minghao on the couch.

“It would be a good surprise though, right?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat,” you shoot sarcastically. “But seriously. I’ll see if I can get you two to meet, but I really can’t see you on Sunday. I have to pick Beomgyu up from the airport.”

“Got it,” Minghao agrees, shuffling closer to you as you both focus on the TV. A live interview with Kim Mingyu plays on the screen, the young man talking about his recent rise in recognition. You two sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Minghao speaks up.

“I fucking hate not being able to do anything,” he groans, shifting onto your shoulder slightly. His condition’s gotten exponentially better in past couple of weeks, but you instructed for him to wait at least two more weeks before fully getting back to training.

He’s been restless ever since, you’ve started to notice. “Do I really need to wait?” he mutters, lips close to your ear as you cuddle into his embrace.

You pull back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yes! I told you—it’s a part of the process.”

“Fuck the process, I wanna drive again!”

“Too bad I guess,” you say with a shrug, turning your attention to the TV. The channel moves on from the interview to talk about some updates, and eventually somewhere in the mix, Minghao’s name comes up, and you hear the man next to you curse under his breath.

Chewing on your tongue, you debate for a few moments on what to do before reaching for the remote to shut the TV off.

“Hey! I was watching th—”

“Do you ever stop complaining?” you huff, stepping out of his embrace much to Minghao’s dismay. “Stop moving,” you order him, sliding down onto your knees in front of his legs.

“What are you do—oh.” You hear the words dry on his tongue when you nudge your body between his thighs, inching closer to his groin.

“You’re so restless,” you hum, trailing your fingers from his knees, over his thighs, and finally let the ghost over the growing tent under his sweatpants. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you suggest, toying with the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“O-okay,” Minghao agrees, and you grin at the way you see his cheeks flush pink when you inch the fabric off of his pants. His cock springs out, hardening under your gaze as it slaps against his lower adobe that’s still covered by his shirt.

You think for a moment to help Minghao out of his shirt too, but with the pretty pearl of precum dribbling off his slit, veins pressing up all against the length of his cock—all of him aching just for you—you start to feel your mouth water, forgetting about anything that isn’t having Minghao’s cock in your mouth.

“Careful with the right arm, ‘kay?” you tell him, a sly smirk tugging at your lips when you bring them down, dragging them over the base of his length all the way up to the glossy tip where you place a wet kiss.

“Y-yeah—fuck baby,” Minghao grunts when you envelope your lips around his throbbing tip, tongue swirling over the slit at the top as you do so. His left arm makes its way into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp when you pull back to take a deep breath.

Saliva drips down the corner of your lips, and as you look up at Minghao with wide, glossy eyes, he thinks he might bust in on the spot. “Go on baby,” he murmurs, using his firm grip on your head to nudge your lips closer to his pink tip. “Put it in …” he instructs, and when you grin and open your lips wide once more, Minghao knows he’s too far gone to be saved.

“You’re so hard Hao,” you whisper against him, tongue tracing constellations over the base of his cock when you reach to cup his balls, massaging them under your palms.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Minghao moans, and the sound is so guttural it has your own pussy clenching around nothing. Your skin burns when you take him into your mouth again, cock sliding further down your mouth than before.

He’s so thick, and you feel every last curve of his cock, every last vein, against your cheeks, pressing against your tongue—Minghao is all you can taste, and you might go drunk on the sensation alone.

And he isn’t faring quite well above you either—his hand in your hair has got a firm hold but if anything, Minghao is losing touch with reality. Your mouth is so soft and so warm, your tongue so meticulous with the way it’s swirling around his tip when you slip off his cock before pushing your mouth back down on him—he’s going fucking crazy.

“Baby—oh baby,” the words rumble at the base of his chest, egging you on. With every bob of your head, you start to take him down further until his fat tip is battering against the back of your throat and yeah, it’s got tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but he’s moaning and grunting and squirming all for you and you just can’t seem to fucking stop.

“Shit, shit, shit—baby, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns when you deep throat all of him, your nose nearly pressing against his pelvis as you press your eyes tight and revel in the sound of his moans, the feeling of his hands in your hair.

You take his slice of warning as a token of advice, pulling back for only a breath before attempting to do the same thing again, shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, rubbing whatever you can’t with your palms as wetness smears all over your lips and cheeks.

“Oh—fuck, I’m—”

When Minghao cums, it’s with his chest singing your name. Breathy moans—calls for you—as you suck him through the high, hot white painting the inside of your cheeks and tongue. You pant heavily when you finally pull yourself off of him, swallowing all that is left of him in your mouth, and then he looks at you with flushed cheeks and you both grin.

And when you climb up, Minghao hugs you. He hugs you like a blanket—like the blanket he made you, the blanket you taught him to make—and you two bask in this moment because Minghao is no longer stranger, but he is here and he is in your arms and you are in is, and there isn’t any other place you’d rather be.

a/n: mika ramble time! whatever demonic sickness has been haunting me for the past 5 days will NOT get the best of me. i have been aching to get this fic out since like september and it was initially supposed to be posted on hubbie's bday but :/ unfortunately i was a bit late bc life gets in the way ;c overall i'm really happy w it! personally, i think this is among the most emotional fics i've written, and i am extremely proud of myself for some parts of this so !! yea !! if u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it, pls feel free to leave comments / reblogs >_< they mean the world to me ^^

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt angst #minghao smut #minghao x reader #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #xu minghao fanfic #xu minghao angst #minghao angst #the8 x reader #the8 angst #📝 writing #flight of the stars

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“What are your parameters for loving me?”

Careful to keep her head locked forward, Naomi glances over at her son. Will’s picked-bloody fingernails scrabble at the worn bandage around his wrist, twisting until his knuckles turn white. The car shakes with his violently bouncing leg, out of time with the shuddering engine and rumbling dust roads under the wheels.

“There aren’t any.”

“There have to be — some.” The bandage is longer than she thought, unspooled in his lap. He winds it back up again quickly, hands blurring; darting around his wrist, tapping on his knees, flexing and locking, flexing and locking. “I mean, what if I became a misogynist?”

She snorts. “I think you’re good, honey.”

“No, Mom, what if? Think about it for real. You’d stop loving me, right?”

“I might knock you around a bit, but it’d pretty hard to stop loving you completely,” she teases. She pinches the stubbornly-clinging baby fat of his cheeks between her knuckles, ruffling his hair when he ducks away.

“Seriously, Mama.”

“I dunno, Will. I’d send you to work for your Auntie Di for a while, probably. Reckon she’d straighten you out good.”

“Okay.” He nods, twice to himself, chewing on his lip. The bandage is wrapped around his elbow, now, pulled tight enough that she can hear the groan of his joints. “Okay. What if I killed someone?”

“Be a pretty hefty secret for the two of us.”

“An innocent person. Cold blood, just because I wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could, Mom. People are — unpredictable.” He picks at a hole in his shorts until it’s wide enough to slide three fingers through, pulling the bandage in after them. It looks yellowed next to the green of the fabric, worn. “Sometimes you think you know someone but you don’t.”

“I know you.”

She pushes on her turn signal, slowing to a near stop. Will’s twitching fingers unconsciously synch up, cri-tap, cri-tap, cri-tap. The rusted rims groan as her tires amble around the bend, quieting as she lurches forward. They both duck as she hits a pothole, narrowly avoiding the warped ceiling.

“Cold blood, Mama.”

“I’d — it would scare me, I guess.” The next few potholes are smaller — she can avoid them with some manoeuvring. A mouse darts out onto the road, rushing out from the surrounding cornfields, and she slams on the break, thrusting her arm out to the passenger side. Will’s hands come to cup over her forearm as he slams into it, grunting softly. The mouse sprints across the rest of the road, tail swishing behind it, disappearing into the stalks. She settles back into her seat, brushing across Will’s seatbelt as she does, and presses the gas again. “More for you than of you. For what would happen if someone came knocking.”

“You wouldn’t report it?”

“No I wouldn’t report it, Will, Jesus.”

“But I — but I did something evil.”

“This is a hypothetical, baby.”

“And in the hypothetical. You’re —” He scrubs his hand down his face, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re a good person. You have — morals.”

“I’m a person, Will.” The GPS beeps at her — twenty-five miles to the Tennessee border. “And I’m a mother before that.”

“So if I — you would just — just like that? You’d — forgive me?”

“I’d love you,” she corrects.

“But you wouldn’t forgive me.”

She shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“So how do you know you’d still love me?”

“Because there’s nothing you could do, baby. I mean it.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even if I was a bully? Or a landlord? Or if I — liked boys?”

He says it quickly, or tries to, but he stumbles over his words, tripping over the syllables. Naomi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it hard.

“You would still love me, if I — if I —”

Keeping her movements steady, she removes her boot from the gas. Will glances, fast, at her tightening knuckles on the steering wheel, looking quickly away. She guides the car to the shoulder of the road, pulling into park, and kills the engine, unclipping her seatbelt and turning ninety degrees to face her son. Will crowds into the corner of the seat, hunching in on himself, shoulders tense and curling, hair failing over her lowered head.

“Oh, Will.”

His body shakes as she pulls him into her, hands trembling so bad they spasm, twitching out of the fists he makes. She shifts until both of her arms wrap tightly around her torso, ignoring the burn of the trench, tucking his forehead into her collarbone, dropping her lips to press against his temples, his cheeks, the crown of his head.

“It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s — not. I’m still, I can still —”

“Sh.” His tears drip onto her shirt, her skin. He chokes back a sob and she tightens, reflexively, pulling his whole body even closer to her, somehow, making space for his too-long legs, knees hitting his chest, feet dangling off the seat, gearshift shoved into his thigh. His chest heaves with the effort of keeping his cries locked up in his throat, hidden behind clenched teeth, squeezed shut eyes. His fingers cling onto her shirt, twisting the fabric so hard it warps. Her own fingers clutch desperately at the ridges of his spine, the inside of his elbow; squeezing, holding, bruising. His voice is rough as raw grit and reedy as pond scum, barely above a whisper.

“I like boys, Mama.”

“I heard you.” She rests her forehead on his shoulder, her own breaths shuddering. “I heard you, sweetheart.”

“I like — a boy.”

“Okay.”

“For a long time.”

Her swallow constricts her throat, shoving the air back in her lungs. How long, she cannot bring herself to ask — when was it, exactly, that he decided he could not trust her with this? When did she lose that privilege? Was it when he started protecting her from the pain in his life, or before? When he lost everyone close to him at once, or when he broke down and told her about it? When was she no longer the person he ran to when he was scared, nervous, afraid?

He used to come to her for everything.

“I love you,” she whispers, voice wet as it slides against the lump in her throat. She squeezes him again, and this time, he squeezes back, pressing his face into her skin. “Will Solace, you are what keeps me going, do you understand that? Come up here, baby, look at me.”

His eyes aren’t hers. He takes after his father, really; after his older brother once upon a time. But he speaks like she does and smiles like she does and stands like she does, and when he cries he gets that same look, like the ocean has emptied itself inside of him. She cradles both palms to his wet cheeks, thumbs pressing under his eyes, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

“Fifteen years long you’ve been the light of my life. I need you to understand that, Will. I have never loved anything like I love you and there will never be anyone who comes even close. There is no hypothetical, no situation, no anything that could change that. There are no parameters. None. You understand me?”

“Everything stops,” he croaks. “Everything has a limit.”

“Not me,” she says firmly. “You ain’t a baby no more, baby, but you’re gonna have to pretend for a moment that I know everything again. I am telling you that there is no boundary. And I am not giving you the option to disagree. You are my son and my sun and that’s final, Will. That’s final.”

His face crumples. She pulls him close again, sighing, letting him curl up in his lap like he’s ten years younger than he should be, instead of the ten years older he acts. She runs a hand through his knotted hair and another down his back and presses her lips to his temples, holding him every place she can reach, and rocks them, even though there’s no room to do it, humming slow and low under her breath.

“We’ll get there,” she promises, tapping a beat on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Okay?”

He nods into her neck. “Okay.” His voice is small but not cowering, thankfully; small like he’s hiding in her instead of from her. She fights the urge to sag into him, to burst into tears of her own.

“I love you, Will. No matter what and forever.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

#naomi solace love of my life #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #will solace angst #naomi solace #naomi solace & will solace #hurt/comfort #autistic will solace #coming out #my writing #fic #longpost

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dcxdpdabbles · 25 days

Text

Mr Flavor Soda Part 2

Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.

It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.

People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.

He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.

People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.

Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.

Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.

A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."

It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"

Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.

The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.

If he was even selling soda at all.

Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.

Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.

Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.

He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.

There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.

It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.

Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.

Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.

Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.

Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.

Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.

It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.

If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.

Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.

Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.

It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.

"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.

Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?

"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"

"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.

It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.

Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.

He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.

Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.

He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.

He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.

Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."

A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."

The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.

This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.

He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.

"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."

Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.

"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.

"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.

Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!

"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"

"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.

Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."

A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.

The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"

Then he skipped right out.

"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.

"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.

Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.

"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.

She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."

Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.

It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.

"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."

"Does he come here often?"

The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."

Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.

"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.

"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."

Huh?

But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.

Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.

"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."

"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"

The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."

In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.

He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Mr.Flavor #Part 2 #Tim's pov #Danny is really weird #a true Willy Wonka #Tim is on a case #And Danny is still trying to force his other form #Picking fights with ghosts should work #Not sure if I'll make this Dead Tired or gen yet #Hope I made the haunting a little creepy

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faeriekit · 2 months

Text

Feet on the Ground

loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn

warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death

********

Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.

It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.

And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.

Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.

Time to head home.

Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.

…Okay?

The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.

That’s kind of. Ominous.

Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.

And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.

Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.

…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.

Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:

“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.

“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—

The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.

He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.

“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”

“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”

Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.

“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”

“...Danny, were you murdered?”

Danny stops.

“Huh?” says Danny.

“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”

There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.

“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”

There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!

They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.

“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”

The observation isn’t appreciated.

“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”

“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”

Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.

“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.

Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.

“…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.

Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.

Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.

“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”

Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.

Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.

Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.

Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.

Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.

But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.

Tucker sees the man first.

He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”

Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.

They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.

“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.

Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.

So. Danny knows this guy.

And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.

Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.

The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.

“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”

“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.

“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.

Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.

“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.

The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”

“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”

The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.

Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.

There’s a part of Danny…

The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.

Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.

He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.

“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”

The man is silent.

“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?

He doesn’t answer.

“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”

The man’s hands curl. He steps back.

Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”

The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”

“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”

Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”

The man loses his voice.

“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”

A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?

They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.

Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”

The man’s pupils dilate—

And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?

He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.

So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.

“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!”

Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it.

So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them.

Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this.

The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof.

“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??

But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life.

If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark.

The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work.

Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!”

Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths.

Great.

Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.

By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm.

Uh. Oops.

Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her.

Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired.

��...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?”

“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.”

Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check.

The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief.

He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair.

It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news.

She records it on the TiVo for him.

“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.”

“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.”

They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even.

They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive.

…Danny could relate.

Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag.

#phic phight 2024 #tw murder #tw child murder #tw death #I think that covers it???#wait #tw choking #there we go #Danny works out some of his feelings about dying young #danny phantom #phic phight #this is very quickly being edited and posted on lunch break please bear w/ me #faer fic #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton

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