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toruro · 6 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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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 6 months

Text

Kinktober (17)- Lingerie

Natasha X G!p Reader 18+

Summary: After a bad day at work, your wife finds the best way to satisfy you.

Warnings/Tags: Reader has a Penis, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Multiple Creampies, Oral Sex, Fingering, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Switch Reader/Switch Natasha.

Kinktober Masterlist

Closing the door harder than you intended, you sighed to yourself in annoyance, shrugging your suit jacket off and carelessly flinging it on the table as you dragged yourself into your living room, flopping on the couch. Memories of today’s diabolical meeting flooded through your mind as you unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, the fabric tight and uncomfortable on your neck, adding to your displeased mood as you became aware of the lack of noise in your apartment, listening out intently for your wife.

“Nat?” You called out, voice calmer and gentler than the one you used earlier in the meeting, the mere reminder of it making your brows furrow at how stupid your workers could possibly be, hands busy untying your laces as she appears from behind the bedroom door, eyes solely focussed on you.

“Hey Detka,” she purrs out sultrily, your head snapping up at the sound of her voice, eyes widening and jaw slacking at the goddess that stood before you that you somehow managed to call your wife.

Black lace adorned her body in the most alluring and enticing manner, the fabric teasingly covering her breasts as the soft flesh peeked over the top, your rapidly darkening eyes travelling further down her body, across her beautiful curves, her toned stomach, her core that was scandalously covered up by the smallest piece of lace possible, a small groan leaving you at the barely visible wet spot already there. Thigh high stockings complimented the lingerie she was wearing, the image of her swaying her hips as she casually sauntered closer to you causing your pants to feel a lot tighter, eyes unable to choose where to admire as she stood right before you.

“Fuck, Nat,” you managed to groan in appreciation, hands reaching out for her soft curves only to be stopped, her hands wrapping around your wrists and pinning them to the back of the sofa, her body towering over yours as she smirked down at you, your mind clouded with arousal at the sight of her.

“Keep them there for me Detka,” she whispers out, her mouth lowering in a teasing manner, lips ghosting yours as your eyes drift to her plump lips, enchanted by the way her tongue swipes across her bottom one to wet it. Your head tilts to try and chase her lips but she cruelly pulls back, her eyes matching your lust-filled ones as she takes in your outfit, her eyes landing on the large bulge in your pants. “All this for me?” she whispers teasingly, her hands palming your cock through your pants, able to feel how hard and desperate you already were for her.

“Always for you,” you sigh out in a pleased tone, her hand briefly wrapping around you and jerking softly. “Please,” you practically whimper when she teases your mouth again with her addictive lips, your mind begging for her to press them against you, not bothered where. You just needed to feel her.

“Already begging,” she teases in an affected whisper, tauntingly placing a kiss to the underside of your jaw, lipstick marking the skin before slowly unbuttoning your shirt, leaving a trail of lipstick smudges as she kisses her way down your toned body. “Don’t worry Detka, I’ll take care of you,” she murmurs, finally dropping her knees between your legs, admiring her work as your chest rises and falls with laboured breaths, mind completely fogged with arousal as she stares up at you with that sultry smirk that drives you insane. “And your needs,” her voice a mere whisper as she presses a kiss to the band of your underwear, a sharp intake of breath leaving you at the feeling of her hands unzipping your pants and her hungry gaze.

“Love,” you sigh out the endearment as she successfully gets you out of your pants and underwear, her hands wrapping around you, able to feel how you were throbbing for her. She watches hungrily as your head lolls back at the feeling of her hand gliding up and down you, your hips bucking slightly when she runs her finger from the base to the tip, lips ghosting your head. “I need you, please,” your tone a desperate plea, head tilting to look down at her with a submissive look as you let her control you for now, needing to feel some sort of release and satisfaction after today. You could take your frustrations out later.

Giving you what you want, her lips wrap around your cock, the warmth and wetness of her mouth having you groan sensually at the pleasure that coursed through your veins, hands itching to thread through her silky, red locks, desperate to guide her head up and down your length. Her emerald eyes peer up at you sinfully, hips bucking as she takes you all the way down her throat, her hand going to your balls and massaging them expertly, knowing exactly how to please you. Your moans grow slightly louder when she bobs her head faster up and down you, the feeling of her tongue swirling around your tip and her moaning around you causing you to jerk your hips up harder, making her gag slightly, not that she minded.

At the sound of your low groan, she pulls her mouth off you for the moment, moving her hands to slide up and down your cock, lips pressing a lewd kiss to your tip. You can’t help but stare down in pure desire as she licks from the base to the tip of you, eyes trained on you as she effortlessly takes all of you down her throat again, gagging once again at the size of you.

“Nat,” you plead, fingers moving to grip the edge of the sofa, knuckles bleeding white with how amazing the feeling of her mouth felt on you, thoughts filled with only her.

“What’s wrong Detka?” she innocently murmurs, slightly panting for breath, her tone a clear contrast between her actions as she looks up at you, tongue licking a stripe up your cock. At the action, precum spills out of your tip, her finger deftly gathering it and sliding into her mouth, a small, sinful moan escaping her at the taste of you.

“Love-fuck,” your words are cut off with a sudden moan, her lips wrapping around your head, cheeks hollowing while her hand expertly slides up and down you mercilessly, wanting to have you teetering on edge. “Nat- God, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” your voice laced with desperation as you stare down at her, begging her with your eyes.

“You wanna come in my mouth Detka?” she asks lewdly, licking the small bits of precum that continues to leak out of your tip, observing how you nod frantically, hips bucking into her hand and mouth to chase your release. You groan at her dirty words, her body suddenly standing, her mouth at the shell of your ear to add to her words, “What if I want you to fill me up? I need to feel your cum inside me Detka.” You groan once again, hips bucking up harder, your orgasm about to crash over you as you peer up into her darkened eyes, head tilting to ghost her lips.

“I’ll do both,” your tone cocky and matching of your more dominant side, the redhead smirking at your words as she places another kiss to your jaw, teeth nibbling gently as she feels your hips stuttering into her hand.

“That better be a promise,” she warns, desperately needing to feel you come inside her, to fill her up and watch as it drips out of her slowly. Her body swiftly and seductively drops back to the floor, her lips kissing your tip once more, eyes watching yours roll back. “Come on Detka, come for me,” she husks out, taking you down her throat once more and bobbing her head, tongue swirling over your sensitive head and hand squeezing your balls gently, pleasure crashing through you.

Your hands reach out to her hair, holding her close as spurts of the warm, white liquid fill her mouth, a string of moans leaving you as you come down her throat, emptying into her while your hips jerk up as you ride out your aftershocks. You pant as you try to recover from your mind-blowing orgasm, chest heaving as she releases you from her mouth, swallowing your load and moaning lowly at the taste, eyes on your blissed out state. Her finger moves to swipe the little that escaped her mouth, sliding it back in and making a show of the action to make your hands thread through her hair and guide her up off the floor to straddle your lap, mouth crashing to hers.

It was messy, desperate and passionate as you poured all your love for her into the kiss, showing your wife the appreciation she deserves, hands roaming the body you're addicted to. You groan into the kiss when her teeth bite down on your lower lip, her smiling into the next kiss as you flip the two of you over on the sofa, pressing her into the soft cushions.

“Shit Detka, you feel so good,” she moans when you grind your hips into her, her hands shrugging your shirt off your shoulders, carelessly throwing it somewhere in the room, legs wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You grind your hips into her harder, knowing just how she likes it while your lips press teasingly along her jaw and the underside of her jaw, soft sighs leaving her. Fuck, she loved how you could so easily switch between being submissive and dominant.

“I’m going to make you scream for me, Nat,” you groan against her warm skin, eyes peering up at her as you thrust your hips against her, cock rubbing against her soaked panties perfectly, her head lolling back at the pleasure. She smirks at your cocky words, knowing full well that you can fulfil them, your lips marking her neck as your hands trails down her body, fingers reaching her lace panties.

“Detka,” she groans at the sound of fabric tearing, your eyes trained on her face as your mouth moves to kiss the top of her breasts, fingers sliding through her dripping folds.

“All this for me?” you mock her earlier words, moving your thumb to circle her clit while you effortlessly slide a finger into her, needing to stretch her out. She lets out a breathless laugh at your words, moaning quietly after it as you curl your fingers at just the right spot, her back arching off the sofa and into your body. “So wet, so desperate. Fuck, love, you’re ruining me,” you groan against her, moving back up her body to claim her lips hungrily, swallowing her moans as you thrust another finger into her, curling them both at her g-spot while your thumb continues to rub her clit expertly.

Her hands leave your back and thread through your hair, tongue sliding into your mouth to regain some sort of control as you drive her closer to her orgasm, not wanting to come so soon and seem that desperate for you.

Knowing how close she is by the way she clenches around you, your grin into the kiss, knowing how she loves and hates the fact that you can make her come so quick,

“Just lose control, love, I know you want to come all over my fingers,” you rasp out against her lips before crashing them back together messily, groaning at the feeling of her hips grinding against your hand, chasing her high.

“Detka, Fuck,” she moans out before throwing her head back, her orgasm powerfully crashing over her as her hips ride your fingers desperately, come coating your fingers as she rides out of her high, your lips attached to her neck as she couldn’t kiss you back.

You softly coax her back to reality with softer kisses, your eyes raking over her euphoric state as you admire her. Such a pretty mess you think as her eyes flutter open, that signature smirk returning as she reaches her hand down, jerking you off once more and signalling for you to fuck her.

“I need you Detka,” she purrs at the shell of your ear, teeth nibbling on your earlobe before laying back down, your lips chasing hers as you take a hold of your cock and position it at her entrance. Teasingly, you rub your tip against her clit, then down to her entrance to coat it in the abundance of arousal pooled between her legs, her legs wrapped around your waist again and pulling you closer making you slide it into her.

Both of you groan into the other's mouth at the feeling, her heavenly cunt making you delirious with pleasure, her warm and wet walls clenching around you perfectly as she moans at the feeling of being filled up and stretched out, her nails digging into your back.

“Don’t be gentle with me Detka. Fuck me. Hard,” you can’t help but groan into her mouth at the filth that came out of her mouth, sliding out of her until only the tip remained in before thrusting your hips into her, giving her exactly what she wanted. You snap your hips into her, feeling her walls clench around your cock to make you pant against her mouth, eyes looking down to watch as her cunt swallows your length up greedily.

“Love, you feel so good, so good,” you murmur against her, hips merciless as you pound her into the sofa, the lewd sounds of moans and skin slapping sounding around the room. To reach even deeper inside her, you lift one of her legs slightly, allowing you to thrust into her so you were hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, a sinful moan leaving her.

“Shit, Faster Detka, Harder,” she moans out, a hint of desperation in her voice as she nears her second orgasm, your hips driving into her. Your pace increases as she commands, relentless as her moans grow louder and louder, her hips moving in time with yours as both of you start to teeter on edge.

Your fingers dig in slightly at her thigh, Natasha knowing there were going to be marks there making her even wetter, clenching around you at the moans that escape you, mouths still hungrily meeting in a passionate kiss.

When she clenches around you again, you can’t stop the desperate noise that escapes you, Natasha knowing how close you were at the way your hips started to thrust even faster, her mind clouded with pleasure at the feeling of you inside her.

“Come in me Detka, Please come in me,” she moans against your lips as she tries to hold off her orgasm until you come, wanting to feel that added pleasure of coming at the same time as you.

“Nat,” you groan at her words, lips meeting hers as your orgasm inevitably crashes through you, thick spurts of cum filling her up as your hips stutter into her, pressing her even further into the sofa as her own orgasm courses through her. A scream leaves her as the pure euphoria that floods through her body, taking over all her senses as all she can feel is pleasure, your name falling off her lips in a sigh as you slow down your thrusts, still emptying into her.

Once you’re finished coming, Natasha expects you to pull out but moans in surprise when you thrust your hips back into her slowly, panting heavily as you still remain hard inside her.

“One more, Please,” you groan against her, eyes peering into hers with a pure lust as you grind your hips against her, still deep inside her, your cock covered in your cum and hers.

“Give me one more,” she whispers in an equally affected tone, her hips grinding in time with yours, this time slower as you both chase another high. Your lips meet hers slower, your hips thrusting slow and deep inside her as her nails scratch down your back, pleasure building in both of your cores as your hand reaches for hers, interlocking your fingers. “Detka,” Natasha moans out sensually as you both fall over the edge again, more come filling her up as you empty into her again, her orgasm taking over her once again as you both collapse into each other, your head resting against her shoulder as her fingers return to your hair, fingers scratching your scalp.

It takes you a moment for both of you to recover, your lips meeting hers softly, intimately as you convey your love silently, her smiling into the kiss as you eventually pull out of her, watching as cum slowly seeps out of her. You watch mesmerised when her finger slides it back into her as she chuckles at your small groan and the way your cock twitches, eyes flickering back up to her.

“Bedroom?” you ask, her shaking her head playfully at your antics, your arms wrapping around her body and lifting her off the sofa when she nods, knowing that the two of you were in for a long night.

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

slow down, i'm not going anywhere

g. satoru + fem reader

note : i cooked up something for my man. my yummy lovely bb boy 🥰 just had brainrot for car sex with him. if u want more car sex w gojo then here's this post i made a while back !! anyways i am working on a cult leader suguru fic and it's proving so difficult to write i almost wanna trash it lol✌️

summary — some yummy car sex ft. your overstimmed bf and his pretty muscles

warnings — 🔞 minors don't read/interact, smut / 18+ content, not proofread, car sex, pwp, overstim., nicknames (kitten, baby, slut), creampie + unprotected sex + c*m/creampie visuals, kinda sub gojo but also dom??, delicious dirty talk 🙏

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

... just thinking about gojo's muscles flexing and twitching when he's overstimmed.

his hair is ruffled at the back as it presses into the headrest. the car light would illuminate his features better if it weren't for the steamy haze of sex in the air.

you've got a good view of those tensing abs since his shirt is sloppily split open to reveal them to you. the base of his shirt is getting soaked in your juices. and his breathing is ragged as you ride out another orgasm on his lap. your hand rests on his abdomen, fingers feeling the dips of his muscles as they tense up while. he can feel his thighs shudder under you, dick numb with pleasure to the point where he can't focus on anything else but that feeling you're giving him.

gojo loves it when you admire his body, it makes him feel loved. makes him feel special. fuels his ego till it pops but he's too blissed out and overstimmed to be cocky now.

your eyes and hands roam his pecks. his abs. the contours of his body. the dips n curves. you feel his muscular thighs supporting your heavy bounces.

his physique looks so pretty when it's tensing up, and his face is even prettier — his forehead is beading with sweat, his eyes are lidded so much that you're sure he can't see through them right now, his cheeks are damp and his lips are puffy and red from the erotic, hyper make out session that preceded this even more erotic, hyper lap riding session.

"you always make such a mess of me, baby..." he says in a low, strained voice.

you can hear the effect of so many orgasms in his words, he sounds like he's just exhausted himself at the gym.

"c-can't think straight with those hips on top of mine, haha." he tries to laugh, then hisses when you bounce too fast up and down. he grabs for your curves, moaning, restraining your movements with that exciting strength.

"ahhhh tha-that feels too good, kitten, slow down a bit." he begs lightly.

his cock is so sensitive, and you've got it tightly wrapped up in your gummy walls; he can feel you pulse through every orgasm. feel you shudder each time his cock beats into a sweet spot. it drives him nuts, that milking sensation of your contracting walls, it feels like you're pulling on his soul.

when you whimper weakly against his sweaty forehead, mouth pressing to his skin, "but it feels good..." and roll your hips at a faster pace contrary to his needs, he lets out the most erotic, high-pitched noise you've ever heard a man make.

"sh—iiiit baby! hah... hah... slow down, i'm not going anywhere. w-we've got time, don't needa rush. 'promise i'm not goin' anywhere, not when your pussy feels this good." he struggles to look at you through his lidded eyes. his lashes look so pretty up close, especially in this dim light; there's nothing but abyssal black night outside the car. the radio is turned down low, the squelching sex sounds easily drown out any noise coming through the speakers.

your boyfriend looks so exhausted from cumming inside you three times by now. so you give into his wishes, though it felt good to have his cock beating that deep sweet spot inside of you. slow, swirling rolls of your hips, grinding grinding grinding until he groans and tilts his head off to the side in pure pleasure. the two of you relish that sloppy sound of frothed up cum. it cakes at his base. it feels so delicious that he wishes he could pull his phone out to snap a pic to save into his private little folder titled my baby's designer pussy :)💗

"oh my god... that's it... fuck, feel me there? yeah? feel all that cum, too baby? so fucking nasty... " he groans.

and he moans dramatically. because gojo is such a performer; a real dramatic sex star.

after those hard hits and enduring his sensitivity, slow sensual strokes are just what he needs to tip over. his cock feels raw, pure pleasure pulsing through it like electricity. and you feel raw, too. it almost hurts to squeeze your gummy walls around him. he always stretches you so good, regardless of how tight you are on that day.

"baby... cum with me." he commands, a glimpse of dominance showing in his demeanor after he was acting so docile for so long under your hips.

and getting filled by gojo? it's more delicious than anything.

thick, creamy. his cum smells pungent, it squirts out into your pussy and just spills right out because he fucked your hole too loose, and runs down his cock right along that thumping vein. a sweet fresh load adding to the rest of those nasty, gooey white releases.

he chuckles after cumming, and pants and heaves right against your ear. your bodies are just melted together, sticky and sweaty. he likes feeling as if he's glued to your body.

he notices you digging your nails into his biceps for stability, feeling a rush at the sensation. "y-you're so pretty when you cum and shake for me..." he murmurs against your cheek, nose grazing your skin. he means that. you really are so pretty. and not like the textbook definition; but like an otherworldly goddess.

and you act as kind as one, treating him not as if he's a god but like he's just your precious baby boy. he loves that. he needs it. that comforting voice calms him down after cumming so hard in your pussy, and that soothing hand on his cheek gives him shivers of happiness.

"fuck... 'needa... pull it out... hnnn..." it's always funny when he pulls out with a — pop — and you see him wince at the slight overstim. his cockhead always gets a fright when squeezing out of that tight entrance.

"how the hell am i gonna drive home with all this cum over my pants haha... you made a fucking mess on my dick, baby. look at all that cream..." he laughs, looking down between the two of you. both of your clothes are soaked right through. the windows are steamed up.

"sorry..." you mumble with a small smile, feeling a bit drunk off the pleasure that the two of you shared these past two hours in his car.

your eyes glaze over his chest; it's pretty when it's heaving heavy like that. with sweat running down the middle dip of his abs. and the sheen of your juice smeared on his v-line. snowy white pubes creeping up cutely to make a happy trail.

"you're so pretty, satoru." you murmur admiringly, voice shaky after such a long session in his car.

his heart flutters. but his response is cheeky, masking how shy he truly felt at such a tender compliment. "oh yeah? 'well if you think i'm pretty you should see my girlfriend. she's hot as hell."

you roll your eyes and get off his lap. he frowns then laughs, "aw no, i thought you were gonna straddle me while i drive home..." and he'd started the engine, you felt the rumble in your thighs. it's funny, a hunk of muscle like him sitting in a muscle car.

"i'm pretty sure that's a safety hazard..." you chuckle lowly.

he rolls his eyes and nods. "yeah yeah. mmm baby wait. come here, let me kiss you — thanks for riding me so good. you fuck me up like no one else, you know. 'n in my car too... heh... scandalous lil' slut."

he pecks your lips, the savory taste and lip-locking sound pleases his senses.

and the poor man. he has to drive home with cum-soaked pants. but it's worth it. the next time he sits in his car to go somewhere, he smiles when he finds your lacy panties still tangled around the gear shift. seeing them makes his mind race with the memory of this night and how hard you rolled those hips against him. it gets him bricked up, yes, and he maybe has to jerk himself off in his car before actually driving otherwise he'll be heading down the highway with a boner sticking up in his face.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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diejager · 7 months

Text

Guess Who

Pairing : Poly Task Force 141 x fem!reader

Cw: smut, BDSM, sensory deprivation, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, blindfold, doggy style?, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 0.8k

You cried out when his hard tip slid through your slick folds, nudging your twitching clit with quick and rough thrusts of his hips. You bucked your hips, chasing after his cock, begging him to push into you. You wished you could do more, to turn around and glare at him, to push him to the ground and ride him, or to tie him up and fuck yourself over his thick cock; but the ropes bound you to the armchair, hands tied to your back and soft leather holding your legs open, exposing your puffy cunt and the black plug stuffing your ass.

He chuckled at your whine, strong hands coming to stop your hips from squirming, but did as you wished. His leaky cock slammed into your empty - if you discounted the dripping mix of cum and your slick rolling down your thighs and staining the couch - pussy in a swift cant of his hips and ground into your ass, his warm hand rubbed circles on your hip as he complimented you on your behaviour and for taking him so well.

You felt so full, your cunt pulsing with heat and unfulfilled lust. The prior teasing and playing had you slick and wanting for more, your nerves burning on the edge of overstimulation, yet still craving satisfaction. It would be the last one, he’d come once and you, nearly a dozen in mere hours. You were tired, sweaty, and slick, but you hated being edged and deprived.

He pulled out slowly, groaning when you tightened around him, warm walls trying to suck him deeper, to keep him seated inside of your heat, and pushed in roughly. You let out a choked moan, jolting forward, face-first into the soft couch and groaned. Tears fell from your lashes, wetting the silky fabric of the lace blindfold around your head. You hated it, not being able to see him, only their taunting chuckles, teasing words and burning gaze followed by hungry hands. It also made you so sensitive, your body hyper-aware of everything around you: noise, touch, hearing, every stimulus felt enhanced way past what it should be possible.

“What’s wrong, love?” Price’s voice sounded somewhere behind you, his tone teasing you with a smirk hidden under his beard. You wondered if it was his cock you were taking, but he didn’t have a slight curve and this one seemed longer than thicker, so it couldn’t be him, could it? “Too much?”

Someone looped a finger under your collar, pulling you off the furniture where you dug your teeth in, trying to muffle your loud cries from the people outside Price’s office. Gaz reprimanded you, scolding you for hiding your voice and not letting them hear you clearly. You wanted to tell them that the room wasn’t soundproof, that the others would hear you, but you also wanted to beg them to take the blindfold off, you wanted to look into Gaz’s warm, brown eyes. You loved the way they were also soft and kind, welcoming you on any occasion and hardening into cool steel when he stepped off the aircraft.

You nodded the best you could, mind unable to form a coherent sentence with one of them fucking you so harshly, spearing you with reckless abandon, his panting and grunting the only sound to help you guess who it was. He was mean to you, yet you still adored it, the way you could relinquish yourself to their whims. You clenched around him, walls spamming every time his bulbous head hit your g-spot, making you squirm and whine.

“That’s it, m’eudail,” Soap cooed, his soothing voice so close to you, helping you reach your high with his words. He wasn’t cracking jokes or laughing cheekily in these moments, he was a caring and ground lover, he liked easing you over your peak when you were sensitive and fucked out. “Yer a good girl, hen.”

It throbbed, his pace growing sloppy with each jerk of his hip, his heavy balls slapping your nub with wet sounds. Your knees shook, your body growing weaker from the hours you spent kneeling with only him as your support. He moaned quietly, snapping so deep and rolling his hips as he came, spurting ropes of white, potent cum in your filled cunt. You felt full, warm and so, so sensitive, head thrown back and back arching. Your sweaty and overworked body shook violently, eyes crossing and squirting over him, it made him groan erotically.

Fingers ran through your hair, careful not to disturb your blindfold’s knot, blunt nails starting at the crown of your head to brush the ends of your hair from your skin. He pulled away after a few shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm without making you too oversensitive. You fell limp against the armchair, feeling the globs of fresh - and old - cum roll down your puffy folds. It made you shiver, chest puffing up with laboured breaths. You were exhausted but satisfied, the near-drowning pulse in your clit beating to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

“You did good, pet,” Ghost finally spoke up, his deep tone chiming over your gasping and trembling figure. He held your face, the rough texture of his gloves itching your flushed cheeks. “Tell me who fucked you, in order.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

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crvptidgf · 20 days

Text

Take My Time

Rafe Cameron x Reader

➸ summary: during one of his infamous parties, rafe can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

➸ warnings/notes: smut (18+), fingering, reader is afab, use of petnames, no use of y/n, soft!rafe (?), idk what else

A/N: i’m not too experienced with writing explicit stuff so this is just practice!!

word count: 1.6k

————————

IT WAS FINALLY spring. The leaves began to sprout on the trees, and Tannyhill’s flowers have already bloomed, the array of colors washing across the perfectly manicured garden. So - what better way to celebrate the end of winter than a classic Rafe Cameron party?

It had been a while since he’s hosted one. What with him overtaking Cameron Development and settling into his new office, he didn’t have much time to unwind like he used to. He had stopped taking drugs, and his mind was too preoccupied most of the time to even think about touching any alcohol. All he wanted to do when he came home was to lie down in bed with you and chill.

Of course, you had no objections to this. You loved having him to yourself. However that could not be said for others.

Topper and Kelce were growing increasingly frustrated. They would never admit it but you could tell they missed him (in their own weird little way). Rafe not being around most of the time was taking a toll on them and you started to feel bad for them. It wasn’t your fault, but you felt like you should do something to help.

So, swallowing your pride, you brought up the idea of a party under the guise that he needed to let loose and relax for a little while. While that was true, it wasn’t your main reasoning.

That’s how you ended up here, drink in hand as you listened to the conversation flow around you. Rafe’s arm was draped around your waist, holding you to him as you got comfortable on his lap. You could feel the vibrations reverberating on your back, his laugh loud and carefree. It was nice seeing him like this. His cup was full of alcohol, work far away from his mind, just like you had hoped.

You felt very accomplished as you stood up, noticing how the boys were finally getting to catch up after what felt like forever. Whispering to Rafe that you’d be back, you entered through the back door to refill your drink, the buzz only starting to get to you now.

Truthfully the party still wasn’t as crazy as they used to be but you chalked that up to it still being early in the day.

Your summer dress flowed with every step that you took, the thin fabric doing wonders for you with the blazing heat outside. Before you returned to the party you decided to venture upstairs to take your phone. You had left it there to charge earlier and you were curious to see if your friends were on their way here yet.

Outside Rafe was getting impatient. Sure he was glad to be reunited with his best friends, but he wanted you here with him. What use was it to be at this party alone when you were both hosting it together? Not to mention that he missed the weight of you against him, your little dress raising up your thigh each time the wind blew slightly, the smell of your shampoo invading his senses as he tried to focus on his friend’s stories…

He needed to find you.

When he didn’t see you in the kitchen or dining room, his next guess was his bathroom.

The doorknob clicked behind you as Rafe stepped into his room, heavy footsteps sounding against the floor as he closed the door after himself. You were leaned over his nightstand, your dress riding up just under the curve of your ass. He felt like he was going to go insane if he went one more minute without you.

“Hey, baby. What’re you doing up here?” he asked as he eyed your legs from where he was standing.

Turning around to him you sighed. Your friends said they’d still be another hour, their high maintenance pregame routine was taking longer than usual. Getting up from your previous position, you met your boyfriend’s gaze, noticing how his eyes drooped upon seeing your necklace glimmer in the sunlight, the golden ‘R’ shining beautifully against your skin tone.

“Just checking when the rest will be here. I want today to be perfect.”

“Today is perfect. You’re perfect,” he whispered the last part, his hands finding your hips almost instantly. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ve already done so much to help around here.”

You only nodded, your hands dropping against his chest as he walked you backwards towards his window. Dropping your eyes to his lips, you leaning in for a quick kiss - but Rafe had other things in mind.

“Y’know if you’re stressed I have something in mind to help.”

His words became muffled towards the end as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, lips already trailing kisses along your skin. The soft pecks he was giving you mixed with the want in his voice made your knees weak, and you nodded your head even though he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah? Like what?” you asked, your heart thrumming against your ribcage as Rafe settled you onto the window sill, his strong hands gripping your thighs and bringing them to wrap around him.

He only squeezed your legs in response, his mouth traveling lower and lower down your chest until he reached your clothed breasts. Wrapping his lips around the thin cloth, he sucked lightly causing you to take a sharp inhale. Hands caressing the plush of your thighs, he began to venture upwards slowly.

His fingers drew feather light shapes on your thigh while the other grew closer and closer to where you needed him, before finally reaching the cotton covering you. Taking one finger he grazed it across your core to feel your arousal.

You let out a soft moan at the contact, throwing away all your worries as you were overtaken by pure need.

“Do you want me as bad as I want you right now?” Rafe asked breathlessly, his lips coming into contact with yours again as his deft fingers applied pressure against your heat. You could only moan in response.

“Tell me,” he said as he began to draw tight, lazy circles against your clit.

Throwing your head back against the glass behind you, you breathed out a small ‘yes’, as you silently begged him to continue.

That’s all he needed to hear as he pulled your panties to the side, his fingers meeting your hot, wet hole.

“Fuuuck,” he drawled out once he noticed how easy it was to slide his fingers against you.

Collecting your arousal on his fingers, he circled upwards again towards your sensitive nub. He could already feel the tent in his pants growing, the fabric constricting him too much. Without thinking anymore, he plunged a finger into you without warning, loving how you clenched around him.

“Rafe,” you gasped. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders now, your body all but trembling at how slow he was moving. “Please. Faster.”

Rafe groaned at the desperation in your voice but he made no move to quicken his pace. “Mm, no. Wanna enjoy this,” he said, “wanted to touch you all day.”

His free hand came to lower your shoulder straps down, freeing your tits and putting them on display for him. He ignored how his pants tightened dangerously at the side and instead focused on curling his fingers upwards, listening to your whines and sighs.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out didn’t you?”

So caught up in the pleasure you almost didn’t hear him. The knot in your stomach began to build as Rafe’s thumb entered the mix, pressing against your clit.

Rafe’s tongue returned to your chest now, tongue swirling around your nipple as you wracked your brain for a response. What did he just ask you?

“Huh?” you managed to reply.

He only added another finger into you in response, his thrusts slightly getting faster now. Moving to your other nipple, he responded before he wrapped his lips around the neglected peak.

“How you planned this just so I could see Top and Kelce. Y’so good to me,” he groaned, feeling your walls flutter in reaction to his voice.

“Wanna repay you. Wanna show you how much I-“ his voice cracked as you wrapped your legs around him tighter, causing his dick to rub against the inside of your leg, the friction making his mind go hazy. He continued his previous sentence, “how much I appreciate it.”

“Yes. Please!” you practically screamed as the knot in your lower abdomen built with each twist of his thumb, each curl of his fingers as he fucked you with his hand.

Rafe made no signs of stopping as your hips now moved in sync with his hand, meeting the thrusts of his experienced fingers.

“Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he said, saliva coating his lips from sucking and kissing your chest.

You nodded furiously, your eyebrows scrunching in concentration.

“Give it to me, baby. Wanna see your pretty face.”

That was all you needed to hear before the coil burst, your orgasm wracking through your body. Rafe’s eyes were trained on your face, admiring how your jaw went slack, your fingers scratching at his shirt and your legs clenching from the pleasure you felt.

Once you calmed down from your high, he pulled his fingers from you slowly, not missing how your body followed him, your pussy suddenly feeling empty. He almost moaned at the sight of you grabbing his hand and stuffing his fingers in your mouth, sucking your release off of him.

“I wanna feel you, Rafe” you said, still panting from exhaustion as you played with his buttons of his shirt.

Rafe only smiled at you, his ego inflating at your statement. He helped you slide the straps of your dress back up before patting your thigh gently.

“That’s for tonight. I wanna take my time, yeah? Wanna thank you for being such a good girl f’me.”

The mere thought was dizzying, and you could tell he was as impatient as you. Yet if he was promising such a thing, you knew you’d be in for a good night.

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yolelejiju · 4 months

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DAMN, YOU WRITE SO GORGEOUS!! I'M GLAD, DUDE. ahem. I have this idea: Toji married a very young girl (she is 20 or 21 years old. Toji is 39 years old) Megumi is 18 years old. and Megumi sees her young stepmother and falls in love with her. and he, while Toji is not at home, will fuck her while she sleeps soundly. (maybe Toji will find out about this)😈🤝🫦

Omg anon I’m sorry I just saw this.

TW: somnophilia, noncon

Megumi is aged up, AFAB reader

Not proofread, WIP (maybe)

After graduating from Jujutsu High, Megumi finds it difficult to adjust to dating in adulthood. All of his friends seem to have found someone special, leaving Megumi to often find himself alone. Although he has been attracted to someone before, the problem is that the person he desires is already taken. Not only that, but this person has recently married his father.

His father has brought home many women over the years of varying ages and bodies with one thing in common; they were always somewhat loaded with cash. Most women quickly fell for his father’s looks and great figure but would eventually leave due to his gambling and poor money management…

You were different from others. You showed patience with his father and always tried to find a way to balance his gambling habits without draining your pockets. You even offered pocket money to Megumi and Tsumiki when they went out. Whenever you left, you would come back with a gift or a snack for Megumi, letting him know that you constantly think about him and dropping hints of possible romantic interest.

I mean, what was even the age gap between you two? What two maybe three years? You were closer to megumi in age than you were Toji, and these days you’re home alone more with Megumi more than anyone else.

Was it because you had feelings for him? Was there something more to the bun you gave him or the juice the two of you shared? Were you truly thirsty or did you just want to give him an indirect kiss.

You drove Megumi wild and all you did was exist. He wondered what it was about you that convinced his dad to bring you home. It has to be your patient forgiving nature.

Megumi knows you know he likes you. He knows you’ve caught him ogling your body when wearing something low cut. He knows you feel him press his groin against your lower back when he needs to “get by” you. He sees your body stiffen and your mind freeze every time. He doesn’t know if you’ve even noticed this but you never brought up the fact that you’d wake up with cum on your hand from when he’d use it to jerk himself off. You’ve even forgiven him for walking in on you while we’re in the shower.

So he’s sure you’ll forgive him for what he’s about to do now as he towers over your unconscious resting body. His father wouldn’t be back a few days and you had gotten careless leaving your bedroom door unlocked maybe even on purpose.

You lay blissfully unaware of your exposures legs and ass as your nightgown has ridden up. The way the moonlight flashed through the window on your body seemed almost as if it was calling megumi and telling him to take you there and now.

Megumi drags his hand between your legs up to your inner thigh. He takes his hand lifting your dress up to completely expose your ass all the way before gripping on of your cheek harshly to spread it. He spread your cheeks until he could see your anus start to gape and your pussy lips part. He stares in awe, everything about you truly is beautiful.

He’s dreamed of this pussy for so long, night after night as he wrapped a pair of your dirty panties around his length and jerked himself off until they were soaked in his cum. He strokes his dick thinking of what it would be like to be inside of you. To pin you down and fuck you, to breed you.

He tries to gently flip your body over onto its back, he gets a better view of your face that’s glows under the moonlight peaking through the window blinds. His eyes roam over the curves of your body. Your perky nipples are peeking through your night gown top, moving ever so slightly with every exhale.

He lines the head of his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing it in, just as the head pops through your first ring he stares at your face and watches as your brows furrow but you still remain asleep.just with him putting his tip in has him ready to cum and he doesn’t know if he’ll last much longer so he pulls himself althe way out and slams his full length inside of you. He bites his lip to hold back his own moans and watches your pained face, your eyes try to open and your body tries to wake up but your sleeping pills get the better and you fall back to sleep.

He starts to pump into you a bit faster, with shaky breaths and weak arms buckling. The sound of his balls slapping your ass echoes throughout the room complimented by the squelching of your pussy. Every time he'd pull out he'd leave just the tip of his dick in before slamming his whole length inside you, watching your body shake and breast bounce with each thrust. he knows he should pull out but every time he tries to convince himself not to cum he finds himself inching so much closer to his climax, it’s not until he sees your legs start to shake and your walls grip his length does he shove himself deep inside you and fuck into you all his cum.

He pulls himself out fighting to catch his Breath, he watches his cum spill back out of your tired used pussy and can’t help but feel himself get hard again. Maybe he’ll be kind and give your pussy time to recover and break your cute little asshole in for this round.

#tw.noncon #tw.somnophilia #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #dead dove december #tw stepcest #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw noncon #megumi x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen

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wonysugar · 9 months

Text

if you insist | jang wonyoung

synopsis: jang wonyoung, the biggest fuckgirl on campus, asks you, y/n l/n, an honors student, to study together after classes

pairing: scum!wonyoung x goodgirl!femreader

genres: college au, smut with plot lowkey and tbh that’s it help

tags: g!p wonyoung, college au, wonyoung is a fuckgirl, reader doesn’t know wonyoung has a dick, facefucking, cowgirl, wonyoung doesn’t care how reader feels in the beginning, wony is insufferable in this (sorry it must be said), some texting, reader and wony are both vers switches

warnings: none? just be mindful that wy kinda sucks at first but then we grow to enjoy her me thinks! (and she also has a dick so that’s that)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i wasn’t originally gonna make her have a g!p but inspiration struck me and i just had to. also, sorry for taking so long with this!! i truly hope you enjoy it<3

“so, any questions?”

that sentence alone wakes basically most of the class up from their deep sleep, this is one of - if not the - most boring class in your program. every session of his is a literal snoozefest, you hadn’t slept well last night so this would’ve been your chance.

but you still managed to stay awake, you needed to ace this next test, keeping a streak of good grades is your main source of dopamine, so failing it was out of the question. well, it’s not like you failed any of them, anyway.

the class comes to an end and the students all pack their stuff to leave. as you put your books away, jang… wonyoung walks up to you? ‘what the hell does she want?’ you think to yourself. she leans on the desk and runs a hand through her long straight dark hair, her other hand inside of her gray hoodie’s pocket. you look at her up and down, then finally set your eyes on hers.

“what do you want?” you annoyingly ask her, grabbing your bag and jacket, her being the only thing holding you back from leaving.

“why so uptight, girl?” she grins, looking back at her friends as they laugh at this whole interaction. her friend group was a bunch of ugly frat guys, you weren’t surprised she associated herself with them though, she’s the exact same (just, much hotter). “i was just gonna ask you if you were busy later, baby.” not-so-subtly eyeing your every curve, even slightly tilting her head to catch a better glimpse of your ass, cheekily smiling.

you roll your eyes at the girl, “i don’t want to fuck you, wonyoung. now, if you’ll excuse me-“

then, she leans in, her taller figure towering over you and stopping you from moving forward, your heart skips a beat, despite you not really wanting it to, “who even mentioned sex, y/n? oh you totally picture me naked.” she smirks, peaking glances at your lips.

“get to the point. what do you really want?” you coldly respond, trying to not pay too much attention to her literally staring you down.

she backs up from you, chuckling as she readjusts her already good looking hair. “chill shawtyy, it was a jokee.” you glare, “anyways, i was just wondering if you wanted to study together later, back at your dorm? i barely listened in class, i’d like to actually understand the lecture this time.”

study together? actually understanding the lecture?? since when did this girl ever care about studies?

“oh, so now you’re trying to get good grades, jang wonyoung?” you say with a scoff, earning a playful smile from her in response.

“i guess that seeing you work so hard motivates me, l/n y/n.”

i mean, what could go wrong? if she’s really trying to improve her grades, then who were you to stop that? that would just be wrong of you. plus, it doesn’t look like she’s lying, either. you notice the hopeful look in her eyes, is she waiting for you to accept? you chuckled,

“i’ll think about it.” you say as you walk past her. then, making you jump, she slaps your ass before putting her hood on and jogging over to her friends, earning a high five from one of them as they all laugh. she looks over to you and winks, “see you later, mama.”

you can’t lie, that pet name sent a chill down your spine and you unfortunately couldn’t tell if it was a good one or not. could it even be considered a pet name? anywho, you walk to your next class, excited to see what the rest of the day brings you. and you kinda wish it involved wonyoung, because despite denying it, you did find her very attractive.

you’ll just have to wait and see.

after getting wonyoung’s number from your very ‘popular on campus’ friend, huh yunjin, you’re hesitant to text her. i mean, it’s not like your life right now is all that interesting to begin with, so maybe flirting with a fuckgirl is gonna help you kill your boredom.

smiling to yourself, satisfied with your decision, you grab your phone and type a quick message as you make your way to the exit. after saving her contact, you’re about to set your phone back in your pocket, and you get a notification.

she already responded? you open your phone and type out your next responses as you see her messages.

what?

and she just leaves you on delivered after that? what the fuck is wrong with her.. and what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you getting butterflies?? this is anything BUT cute. the typos? the winky face?? god you can literally visualize her smirk just from reading her messages. despite all of that, you giggle to yourself, but then quickly mentally beat yourself up for it. she’s just joking, is what you thought. you type out your dorm number and put your phone back in your pocket.

you get in your car then drive to your shared apartment. upon arriving, you immediately start rearranging the place. i mean, it’s not like she would care about your dorm looking pretty anyway, since hers probably doesn’t look any better. you’re doing this for your own self, you told yourself. thank god your roommate wasn’t home that day, you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

hours quickly went by as you cleaned up everything, you turn on your phone, reading the clock, 5:54 pm.

she’ll be here soon. you mentally prepare yourself, putting on different, more comfy-looking clothes, then proceed to sit on your couch. bouncing your leg up and down as you await the ringing of your doorbell, looking at the progressing time on your hanging clock. ‘why am i freaking out over this?’, you think to yourself. it’s not like you’re meeting a date, plus she’s probably gonna be late. reassuring yourself, you come to the conclusion that it’s because you haven’t received someone over in so long. of course you’d be exci-

ding dong!

quickly, you rush to your door and open it, finding the taller girl, wonyoung, leaning against the door frame. well, she’s surprisingly here on time. she’s wearing a backwards cap, a black zip up jacket over a white oversized t-shirt and some gray sweatpants.

you weren’t expecting anything grand coming from her, so the look doesn’t faze you.

she smirks at you eyeing her outfit, “did you miss me, bae?”, making you sigh as you roll your eyes, stepping aside to let her in.

“you’re on time, that’s surprising.” you say in a condescending tone. in response, she chuckles, taking off her jordan’s, “how could i keep you waiting?”

she steps foot into your house, observing everything, but only for a quick moment.

“damn, you keep this place neat though huh?” right as you were about to brag about being a very organized person, unlike her, she quickly cuts you off, “yeah sooo…. where your room at?”

you give her a look of disbelief.

“god, y/n, it’s so that we can study properly. who the fuck studies in the living room?” you process that for a moment and look away from her in slight shame, she probably didn’t even mean it like that. then, as you’re about to apologize,

“that text i sent you is still on your mind, hm? you’re cute.” she says, chuckling as she��s grabbing your waist, gently pushing you against one of your hallway’s walls. you unintentionally gulp, looking into her eyes, then at her lips.

“you want me to, don’t you? you want me to fuck your brains out?” leaning into you, she whispers against your ear. you can feel her hot breath on it, making you shiver. but instead of actually doing anything, she quickly steps away from you, a smirk plastered on her face.

what the fuck.

“no but seriously, where’s your room shawty?” she nonchalantly asks, as if she wasn’t all up on you not even 5 seconds ago?? god, what is with this girl? you just blink at her in complete disbelief and confusion, then lead her to your room.

“so that explains why that phrase could be interpreted as a lot of different things. does that make sense?” you ask her, her gaze instantly meeting yours, like she wasn’t looking at the book. was she even listening?

“…what are you looking at.” you coldly add.

“sorry, i wasn’t listening.” she smirks, still looking at you, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and eyes. you scoff, mumbling an annoyed i know as you close the book in question, sitting up. you’ve had enough, she’s driving you insane.

“look, if you’re just here to sit around and do nothing you might as well just leave. i mean, you’re not even paying attention nor are you fucking me right now, so this just seems like a waste of time.” you snap at her. in response, her eyes widen, she definitely wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt. she then grins.

“which one are you waiting for me to do?” she smirks, getting closer to you.

frustrated at yourself for even wanting wonyoung to do you in the first place, an annoyed “fuck you.” was all that could come out of your mouth.

“i mean, if you insist.” she smirks, and places her lips onto yours, forcefully and roughly. quickly, she brushes her tongue along your lips, asking for entrance. you part your lips, allowing her tongue to roam around your mouth. before you could even realize, she was on top of you, her jacket and cap off and her hard on pressing on your stomach.

wait. her.. hard on???

you quickly push her away in surprise. she looked at you, a confused look painted on her face. “what?” she asks you.

“y-you. you have a dick??” you hesitantly ask her back. it’s not that you were against it, quite the opposite, even. but, it just caught you by surprise. since when did she… okay, dumb question.

she scoffs in amusement, “I thought everyone knew that? why do you think straight girls like me so much?”

ugh, nevermind, she was so much hotter when she wasn’t talking. before you could say anything else, though,

“you wanna see it, y/n?”

you reluctantly nod, earning a sly smile from her. quickly, she grabs the waistband of her not-so-boner-proof sweatpants and pulls it down, revealing black calvin klein boxers, her cock poking through.

“take it off.” she basically orders you, making you glare at her. you didn’t like listening to anything wonyoung said, but saying you were horny would be an understatement and you didn’t feel like stalling. you pull the boxers down, making her throbbing dick bounce up at you before sitting up.

dear god, it was big. you couldn’t exactly blame the girls who begged to fuck her anymore, cause if you knew it was that huge before, you would have thought about it a lot more. it’s girthy and veiny while being slightly above average size. it’s weirdly pretty for being used to fuck a bunch of girls, you keep that to yourself, though. you don’t wanna inflate her already huge ego.

before she could say anything arrogant about her size, you put the head in your mouth, slowly circling your tongue around the tip. quickly, you work towards taking the entire length as she groans and throws her head back. suddenly, though, as you’re still sucking, she unexpectedly grabs your head and forces her cock all the way down your throat, earning a gag from you and a moan from her.

“you were going too slow.” she specified, groaning and relentlessly fucking your throat. you would never admit it outloud, but you loved the way she was roughly pulling on your hair, using your mouth to get off. it hurt your ego, your pride, being used by a fuckgirl like this, being used by wonyoung like this. it was degrading, but you still loved it.

you keep letting her handle you like this for a long while, working your tongue on her tip and shaft in the process of her moving your head up and down her cock. hair all on your face, you didn’t even bother tying it, you liked it messy, and she apparently did too. her moans and groans getting higher and shorter, her grip getting tighter, you can only assume that she’s getting closer to finishing.

“fuck baby.. you’re gonna be good and swallow it all, okay?” she said, still using your throat. soon enough, she lets out a long moan and you quickly feel her dick slightly throb, spurting out a warm and thick liquid everywhere in your mouth, it was bitter and salty. you pull away and she looks at you, smirking and expecting you to swallow, which you don’t wanna give her the satisfaction of seeing. you wanted to see how far she would go, what she would do to you.

when she sees that you’re not doing what she asked, “come on, swallow it, you bitch.” she tells you, grabbing your jaw and smiling at you in a mocking way. you probably look like a huge whore to her right now, cum slightly spilling out of your mouth and everything. you glare at wonyoung and swallow all of it like she asked earlier, all of her semen, keeping eye contact. in response to that, she chuckles and grabs your cheek, patting it. “atta girl, you’re hotter when you do what you’re told.”

you roll your eyes as she chuckles and push her back on the bed, eyeing her still very hard dick. in a swift motion, you take off your jeans and panties, hovering over her. then, you sit down on it, slowly taking in all the length.

“you a virgin?” she asks you, holding onto your waist.

“no, why? you think i don’t know how to ride di-“

she grips on your waist and unexpectedly pushes you down onto her cock, making you accidentally let out a loud noise, a mix between a moan and a yelp. it was painful being penetrated so fast, especially by something so big but the sensation was also.. amazing. before you could have the chance to ask her to go slowly, though, she’s already pumping in and out, increasing her speed progressively. okay, now, it hurts.

“can you go slower for - mmh - f-fuck’s sake..”

“no? you take things too fucking slowly, i’m here to cum, not fall asleep.” she grunts, still lifting you up and down her cock, using you like she would a fleshlight. you notice that she gets a lot more annoying during sex, meaner, even. and you hate to admit it, but you’ve also noticed that you seem to enjoy it a lot.

“fuuuck babygirl, you’re so tight.” she mumbles as she presses her thumb onto your exposed clit and plays with it, earning a whimper from you. you feel your walls clench around her as you roughly bounce on her, taking in all of her length.

she’s fucking you so roughly, magically hitting all of the right spots, as if she knows exactly where they are. you couldn’t help but let out the lewdest most shameless noises known to man, it feels too good not to. she definitely didn’t use her mouth for much, but god did she know how to use her cock.

after a while of you bouncing up and down on her, you already feel like you could cum, despite trying your hardest to keep it in, to enjoy it a little longer. a knot was starting to form in your lower stomach, fuck, you were so close, and the fact that she was fucking you so roughly nonstop was making it so hard to keep it contained.

“fuck y/n i’m about to cum again..” she whimpers out needily, once again tightly holding onto your waist. you can’t let her though, not yet. you grab her wrists and pin them above her head, preventing her from touching you. a confused but very aroused expression plastered on her face.

“you can wait a little longer, right?” you ask, but in a tone that basically makes it seem like an order. she glares at you, gaze full of lust yet worry. you could tell she liked the sense of being in control, and that she felt vulnerable in this state. she usually was doing the fucking, not whatever this is. and she was even more frustrated that she liked it.

she moaned, chest heaving up and down from the effort she’s putting in to not climaxing, especially inside of you. you ride her dick, changing the speed to your liking. sometimes moving painfully slow, making her sensitive tip throb at the sensation, other times riding it like there was no tomorrow, she felt it everywhere, your slick running up and down her entire shaft in a fast motion. “c-can i cum yet? you’re being so - fuck - annoying.” she messily asks you, the feeling of you bouncing on her making her stumble over her words.

“maybe i’d let you if you weren’t so goddamn impatient.” you say, moaning out the words.

you were making it so hard for her, she actually thought she would pass out. thankfully for her, though, you quickly get closer to finishing, the noises coming out of your mouth getting louder and higher. then, you feel yourself clench around her length.

seeing you like this, hearing you call out her name as you came all over her cock, it all just made her arousal grow even more. she really couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“y/n please get off i need to cum ineedtocu-“

“cum inside of me.” you interrupted, you were still coming down from your high and you needed her to fill you up. you were on the pill, but she didn’t need to know that yet. you wanted to see how far she would actually go. “w-what? are you fucking crazy what if i get you pre-“ you cut her off by lifting yourself up on her cock, then back down, earning a cute moan from her.

“fill me up, wony. do it.”

upon hearing those words, the nickname, her eyes widen and she bites her bottom lip, throwing her head back as she pants from all the different feelings she felt. she would’ve actually thought about it more if she wasn’t horny out of her mind at the moment.

a mind blanking orgasm hits her, and you can feel the familiar feeling of her warm thick juices filling up your cunt again as you both moan in unison. she rambles out fucks and oh my gods as she takes it all in. watching her become such a mess just because of you.. if you weren’t so tired, that would’ve definitely made you wanna fuck her again. poor baby has probably never even been edged by a girl before.

you watched her as she came down from her high, head still thrown back as she’s panting and heaving. then, she lifts it back up to look at you, smiling shyly. was this the same wonyoung you knew? because if yes, she got significantly cuter.

you laid down on her, resting your head in the crook of her neck. you didn’t even bother pulling her dick out of you, it felt comfortable, and honestly? you were way too lazy to.

“so, are you gonna be telling this to your friends?” you jokingly ask her.

“they’d never let me live it down if they knew you got me begging for you, girl.. so, no.” she confessed, making you giggle.

“also shawty, if you do get pregnant, just be aware that i will not be taking care of the baby.” she adds.

you hum, “you’ll still fuck me whenever you feel like it though, right?”

she chuckles in response, “i mean..

if you insist.”

#smut #kpop gg #female reader #ive #jang wonyoung #ive jang wonyoung #ive wonyoung #ive smut #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x female reader #jang wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x female reader

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retroellie · 3 months

Text

Phone Call

Summary: You were frustrated, beyond tired of your boyfriend always ditching you for his team. So you decided to show him just how frustrated you were while he was on the phone with his boss.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll! I wrote this really fast so it's a bit messy, but enjoy it anyways <3

Warnings: NSFW, Sex while on the phone, Slight dirty talk, normal CM talk

Word count: 4.1k

Recently, Spencer has been away a lot. He told you that it was most likely because it's summer and "statically most serial killers strike in the summer". You didn't care what season serial killers strike in, you only cared that Spencer was away from you. It always worried you, always frustrated you that his coworkers got to spend more time with him than you did. Even though Spencer made sure to call you every chance he got, you hated how much time this job had taken away from you and Spencer. You were sometimes afraid you would end up like Hotch and Haley, lovers one day and then the next complete strangers as if your love never existed. However, your fear was quickly shut down as soon as Spencer got home.

Most nights when Spencer returned would always end up like tonight, with you and Spencer trying desperately to get each other off. Spencer had come home late, his eye bags looking worse than ever but he didn't care. He went into your shared room and started ripping your clothes off, whispering how much he missed you into your ear. What Spencer lacked in being present he made up for in worshiping your body every chance he got. It started off as a makeout session, his hands groping you through your clothes... but it led to you on top of him, hips burning as you thrust down on him. You both were tired, both worn down, and both extremely horny with just one look at each other.

"Fuck..." You moaned out, hands scratching at Spencer's chest as you picked up the speed of your hips.

Spencer threw his head into the pillows, feeling your pace quicken and your pussy tighten around him. No matter how many times you have had Spencer deep inside you, it never fails to amaze you just how perfect he felt inside you as if he was built just for you. With each thrust of your hips, his cock penetrated the spongy area inside of you, hitting your G-spot almost perfectly. His hands were placed on your hips as he helped you bounce and roll your hips up and down, urging you to go ever faster.

You were on the edge, your pussy clenching tighter and tighter around Spencer which led him to his climax with you. This was pure ecstasy, no drug on the planet could make you feel any higher than how Spencer did. You could never get enough of him, ever. His smile, his voice, his stupid facts he told you about, his soft snores at night, the way his cock curved slightly, his soft tummy... he was your drug. The fact of you being so addicted to him created some very unusual situations that Spencer would never in a million years think he would be in. Like one time you dragged him into the girls' bathroom of the FBI headquarters and fucked him silly. Then another time you sent nudes to him on the FBI jet basically forcing him to jack off in the jar bathroom only 3 feet away from his team. In other words, He was just as addicted.

You were high in the clouds, somewhere on another planet as you rode his cock harder, trying to get you both off even throughout your body's exhaustion. Your body felt as though it had been set on fire, kicked around, and then kissed softly. Then suddenly, the fire had cooled over with one simple sound. Spencer's phone.

You stopped your movements, both you and Spencer looking at his phone that was set on his nightstand. The feeling of your climaxes far away now, being ripped away by the sound that echoed through the room. You both had heard that sound too often, been woken up by it in the cold hours of the night, been haunted by it everywhere you went. It felt like someone always needed Spencer more than you needed him, this was a fight you both had often. You looked over at Spencer, his eyes glassy but written with shock. You hoped that Spencer would ignore it just this once, allowing you both to orgasm finally before he decided to run away from you again. No... only that would happen in a perfect world, Spencer was going to take the call. You knew what you were getting into before you started dating Spencer, but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Spencer gave you a sympathetic look, causing you to slouch over and sigh.

"It's Hotch. " He said simply, his hand reaching for his phone as his other one drew circles on your hip as a way to apologize. "I'm sorry, I have to take it."

You were beyond upset, your heart tightly in your chest as you could feel yourself fighting not to cry, you silently cursed yourself for being a crier when frustrated. Not only is your boyfriend choosing work over you but you are also so close to cumming, so close to that release you've needed all week. You rolled your eyes, pulling your long shirt down angrily as you popped yourself off Spencer.

"Fine, answer your boyfriend...." You plopped down on the bed next to Spencer, watching him cover himself with the covers and looking over at you.

He was about to say something but decided not to fight about it. He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard as he pressed the phone to his ear. Even the sound of his voice as he said "hello" created a deep ache in your stomach, your failed orgasm lingering as you pouted next to Spencer. You knew how much this job meant to Spencer, but it just wasn't fair in your eyes. He just got home not even an hour ago yet his team wants him back? When do you get a turn to be with him? You wondered if any of this was actually even worth it, this deep pain you felt in your chest. You loved Spencer so much it hurt but you can't take much more of this frustration that has built up over the months. Even in your own home, you couldn't have him to yourself... not even for a night.

"Yeah, I made sure Penelope sent that to you..." Spencer spoke, the conversation having no significance to you, only the fact that this interrupted your much-needed cock riding session. "I'll have her resend it if you can't find it."

You sighed softly, watching the ceiling as you waited patiently for the call to be over even though you weren't even sure if you wanted to continue what you had started. You were too upset now and you would become more upset after the 30-minute phone call Spencer just had to take. That gave you an idea, an idea that would fix both of your problems... almost like killing two birds with one stone type situation. You sat up once more, looking back at Spencer as he spoke and he paid no attention to you... clearly in his own little world.

"The records didn't show that, he must've gotten them removed somehow." Spencer continued, completely oblivious to your nasty idea.

You innocently smiled over at him as he spoke, a new coat of slick pooling on the bed below you. You shifted yourself back into the position you were in right before the phone call. Spencer gave you a quick smile, thinking that maybe you were just being affectionate. His smile sent a rush through your body, the feeling that he will soon be as frustrated as you are finding its way down to your core. Your anger had completely turned you bitter, you're tired and sexually frustrated so you would give anything just to see an ounce of just that on Spencer's face.

You started it off innocent, giving him soft kisses on his cheeks and his neck. He didn't notice it really, too focused on Hotch's voice to even consider what you were doing. Hotch had asked Spencer about a case report he did, the case was a very tedious one and Spencer's report wasn't completely coherent to those who read it. Although Spencer's reports are never really understood by the reader, he usually went on rants and snuck in small statics that he never actually cited... but the bottom line is that because of Spencer's genius brain, this call was going to be a long one. You would probably end up falling asleep waiting for him to finish it, you had work in the morning and couldn't afford to work on lack of sleep like Spencer did.

You sucked softly on his neck, kissing and lapping at his neck that was already painted with bite marks that you created earlier tonight. Spencer placed a hand on your hip, rubbing it softly once again as you covered his neck with love marks, something that he will definitely scold you for tomorrow. You didn't really care too much if you're honest, all you were worried about at the moment was getting off. So cock hungry it almost hurt as your stomach was still tight with that coil that almost came undone not even 15 minutes ago.

You couldn't help yourself but grind softly against Spencer, your bare cunt rubbing against Spencer's cock. He wasn't expecting this movement, groaning softly as your warmth teased his already throbbing cock. Spencer squeezed your hip, his nails softly digging into your soft skin as a way to tell you to stop. If that didn't do it, his scolding face would. You took your face away from his neck, giving him innocent eyes as he continued to scold you, saying something to hotch as you bit your lip softly. You stopped your movements for only a second before you ground down harder on him, this time his hardened cock softly entering your wet cunt.

"Yeah umm...." Spencer stuttered out to Hotch, trying to stifle his moan. "Hey hotch, give me a second..."

Spencer waited for Hotch's response before he took the phone away from his ear and muted himself. He looked up at you, trying to be stern with you but couldn't help the blush that had risen on his cheek. It's not that Spencer didn't want you or wanted Hotch to call him in the middle of fucking you, but this was important and he needed to do his job. He understood that maybe you wouldn't understand that, anyone with a working brain wouldn't understand why his work was so important to him, so he tried to be sympathetic with you. The weight of this job was enough on him so he did everything in his power not to affect you, but some things are unavoidable... He knew you didn't sign up for this. So he understood your behavior, how frustrating this could be for the love of his life.

"Look, I'll hurry the phone call, okay?" He gave you a grin, leaning up to peck your lips softly. The kiss was supposed to be innocent but you were far from an innocent mood. You turned it into a hard, passion-filled kiss hoping that it would make Spencer put the phone down and give you what you needed... but of course, Spencer pulled away. "Y/n... This is important, give me 15 more minutes then I'll do whatever you want."

He sighed softly, putting the phone back to his ear and continuing his conversation with Hotch as if nothing had happened. The word "important" sent shivers down your spine, what did he consider important? Was his job more important than his lonely girlfriend or were you just not enough for him to want so badly he would drop everything? You knew some men who would ruin their lives for even just a glimpse of your tits. So why wasn't Spencer hopping to the opportunity? The insecurity sat hard on your stomach, dancing around with the coil and the anger that resided in the pit of your belly. You huffed softly, sitting back on your knees as you watched Spencer completely ignore you and continue on with his conversation like you weren't sitting there with your legs open for him.

You would consider yourself a level-headed person, knowing that sometimes things just happen and you were okay with it most of the time but tonight... Your brattiness really decided to make an appearance. You bite your lip, placing your hand on Spencer's chest, looking up at him to see a reaction. He had none, completely immersed in the phone call to notice your dirty intentions. You slowly dragged your hand down his chest, watching his eyes to see if they even had a glimpse of a reaction. He had none until you made it to his lower stomach, his eyes on yours as he raised a brow.

"Well we found out he was a necrophiliac, that's why he killed before the initial penetration." He said into the phone, explaining something about the case that you didn't even want to know about.

If someone had told you that you would be trying to get in a quickie while your boyfriend talked about necrophilia, you would have laughed in their face. But you prevailed and you continued your hands' path to the part you really wanted. Spencer took the hand that was placed on your waist, placing it on your hand to stop you. This bratty side of you was something Spencer had never seen, it wasn't a complete turn-off to him... frustrating? A bit, but not the bad kind of frustration. You batted your eyes up at Spencer, taking his hand in yours before bringing it up under your shirt. His hand shook as you placed it on your bare chest, but Spencer continued his conversation with Hotch like nothing was happening.

You took your other hand, placing it on his cock and pumping it a few times. Spencer's eyes flutter shut, leaning his head against the headboard as he listens to Hotch speak. Spencer had no idea why he couldn't resist you right now, maybe this entire situation frustrated him as much as it did you. Maybe he didn't want to be bothered by the BAU while home with you. You lined Spencer's cock to your entrance, basking in his reaction and how he couldn't push down the ache he felt in his cock. You were swift with it, sitting all the way down on his cock in just one thrust. Spencer groaned once again, his eyes widened as he forgot who was on the other side of the phone. He apologized on the phone, telling Hotch he needed to mute himself for a split second again.

"Y/n..." He moaned softly, holding your hip to keep you in place. As much as you looked pretty right now, he needed to finish this call up without distraction. "I really need to talk to Hotch, okay? he needs me.." He was interrupted by a moan escaping his throat as you thrust harshly onto him, your bratty behavior making him throb inside you already.

"Then talk to Hotch..." You said simply as if you weren't riding his cock at the moment. You smirked, looking him dead in the eye while you cock warmed him. "Just pretend I'm not here... you can do that right?"

Spencer sighed softly, shifting himself as he slowly gave into you but pieces of him knew he was needed on the job. You weren't going to let up, you both needed this more than Spencer even knew. The other night when Spencer was in an unknown city, you had called him before he went to bed like you normally do. You could hear the stress in his voice, the same stress that coated his words this entire night. The only thing that could chip away at that stress was you sending him a titty pic and verbally fucking him to sleep, explaining to him exactly what you would do if you were there. He needed this and you would happily give it to him, however, if he said no you would back off obviously... but you weren't hearing him wanting you to stop.

"I can finish this call later." He said, taking his hand from your shirt and putting it back down on your hip before going to dive back into the call. "I'll just tell him I need a moment and hang up okay." He looked up at you for your approval.

"No!" You spit out, the idea of fucking Spencer while talking to his boss was slightly very arousing but also he made his bed... might as well lay in it. Spencer looked at you with his brows furrowed, wondering why suddenly you were so upset. "You decided to answer him, so you finish your fucking call... I swear if you hang up I'll stop, you'll be going to bed with a hard cock..."

Spencer was massively turned on by the tone of your voice, the bratty behavior is something he could get used to. You were just really tired, mentally and physically. The only way to get your boyfriend to notice you was to practically scream for it, it exhausted you how much you had to scream. Spencer thought for a moment, was this really something he wanted to get fired over? Fuck yes... he brought the phone back to his ear, continuing his conversation with Hotch. You smiled, leaning down to peck his cheek softly. His own smile is brought to his face by your actions.

You once again laid your hands on Spencer's chest, helping yourself roll your hips onto Spencer. You didn't know how this would go simply because Spencer was extremely vocal and had a hard time covering it up. However, Spencer didn't actually want to get fired so he kept quiet, putting a hand on his mouth when not speaking or biting his lip so hard it bled. You could have gone slow, teasing him like he did you every chance he got but the coil in your stomach hurt so bad you needed this release. Your hips sped up once more, going as fast as you could which was not as fast as you would have thought. It was a steady pace, allowing Spencer's cock to hit the spongy area once more.

"We found his car, a blue Toyota Camry..." He spoke, his mind not even comprehending what he was saying due to how hard you were slamming yourself onto him. Clearly, he had got a detail wrong due to the fact he quickly apologized to Hotch immediately after saying it. "I mean a gray Toyota Corolla... sorry."

You laughed softly at his mistake, knowing only your pussy could have the genius with an eidetic memory to forget something. You continued your thrust, leaning down to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you were just as loud as Spencer and if you didn't then Hotch would definitely hear. Spencer dug his nails into your hip, a way to stop himself from crying out loud as he listened to Hotch, his soft moans still escaping his lips. It was clear that Hotch had said something about his behavior, his soft noises on the other side of the phone. Spencer racked his brain for an excuse, landing on something so stupid but believable.

"yeah, I'm just jet-lagged and I think I ate something bad on the plane..." He lied, moaning in the middle of his sentence. His voice became more high-pitched, hinting that he was going to cum any minute. "I'm okay..." he finished.

You placed a hand in his hair, pulling it slightly as you continued to ride him. Your hips burned, your vision blurry and your legs shaking, you didn't know if you would stop due to bursting at the seams or pure exhaustion. You were now trying to quietly get the both of you off, hoping that Hotch would believe Spencer's very weak excuse. You bit and sucked on his neck, leaving more love bites there, knowing that Hotch might actually put the pieces together tomorrow when Spencer showed up looking as though he spent a night with a vampire.

"Gonna cum..." You whispered into his ear, you tightened around him. The coil in your stomach burning with the ache to come undone and this time Spencer's phone wasn't going to stop it.

Spencer went quiet, knowing that if he said more than 3 words at a time he wouldn't be able to stop the curses and moans that escaped within himself. Your thrusts became sloppy, your body exhausted as you tried to get that coil within you to snap... and it finally did. You moaned loudly into Spencer's neck, his hand coming to meet your head to stuff your face further into his skin to silence you. Your walls contracted around spencers cock, sending shocks through your sweaty body as you fucked yourself through your orgasm and slowly inched Spencer to his own.

Spencer pulled the phone away from his ear, coming undone only seconds after you. You could feel his hot cum drench your walls, his moans not being able to be silenced any longer. Hotch could definitely hear what was going on, his clear confusion being heard from his phone as he asked if Spencer was okay. Spencer forgot where he was for a minute, he forgot that he was on an important phone call or that he was a genius FBI agent with a duty to protect but instead, he is fooling around with his girlfriend instead of listening to his boss. He kissed your neck softly, the words "thank you" slipping from his tongue and echoing through your brain. You just sent him a smile and brought his lips to yours, hands on his cheeks as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

"Spencer?" Hotch asked, his voice now filling the stuffy room. Spencer then remembered what he was doing moments before his orgasm, picking up his phone and putting it to his ear.

"Hey sorry hotch!" Spencer said, embarrassment filling his body. You chuckled softly, reaching your hand down to slip Spencer out of you. "yeah no, I'm fine! Like I said, I ate some bad food... I've been throwing up all night... Do you mind if I call you back later?" He asked, this made your ears perk up.

You hoped this meant you two could go a few uninterrupted rounds before falling asleep. You watched Spencer's lips as he spoke to Hotch, saying his goodbyes and apologizing for his sudden sickness. You couldn't help yourself but peck his lips with yours, he talked to Hotch through your kisses until eventually he pulled the phone away and set it on his nightstand. You pecked his lips once more but this time Spencer held your lips on his, continuing your passionate kiss from earlier.

"Are you trying to get me fired?" He chuckled out through kisses, his lips trailing down to your neck like you did to him only minutes ago.

You sat on that question for a minute, knowing that he loved his job but maybe his being fired wasn't the worst idea. No, you were just being selfish, you only wanted him home so you could have him whenever you wanted. You giggled, his lips attaching to your neck as you let his words sink in.

"No..." You finally said, pulling at his hair once more. "i just want you to fuck me without being interrupted... that so much to ask?"

Spencer rubbed your thighs softly, bringing his hands up to the hem of your shirt and yanking it off. Your breast sprang free and he didn't hesitate to start kissing and sucking on them. You could feel yourself wanting to cum again just by his lips attached to your sensitive nipples. You two were definitely going to go multiple rounds tonight, something about being caught by Hotch made Spencer go crazy... almost like he was doing something very illegal. You moaned softly into the air, grinding your hips onto Spencer once more as his mouth worked magic on your chest. Just when you were brought to the stars once more...

The piercing scream of his phone filled the room once more, halting both of your movements. You both looked at each other, then to the phone as Spencer looked to see who it was. Your anger came over you again, but this time it was going to end in a mind-blowing orgasm... no it would end with Spencer packing his shit and spending the night at the office. Spencer plopped his phone back down, going back to leaving kisses on your chest.

"They can wait..."

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