Hii!! minghao + "oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." from the prompts enemies to lovers? :D
â rush hour âą
pairing: minghao x reader
summary: you used to be good friends with the newest dancer in your agency, but your competitiveness gets the better of you when he overtakes your spot as the top performer of the monthâfor three straight months.
word count: 6.7k words
tags: enemies to lovers, dancer au? unresolved sexual tension, smut
warnings: promiscuous behavior in public, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes: this . got really REALLY long :D like long enough to have its own header and everything LOL it probably helps that hao has been clawing his way back into my bias line these days, so the brain rot kinda just spilled out,, anyway, thank you sm for sending this in!! i hope you like it :3c
smut tags: porn with some plot ig, public sex, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism, hao is kinky as fuck, dirty talk, degradation
svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex
minghao taglist: @zeenanigans - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx
Saying that you hate Xu Minghao is a bit of an overstatement.Â
After all, you were the one assigned to show him the ropes when he was accepted into the agency. While youâre no professional mentor, you like to think he was able to rely on you during those first few weeks. Heâs been in Seoul for a better part of two years, and although his Korean can already pass as a nativeâs, you knew he still struggled every now and again. Itâs a good thing that verbal communication isnât direly needed in your line of work.
Minghao was an excellent dancerâone of the best youâve seen with your own eyes. You once took pride in having a budding prodigy like him as an understudy. Whatever steps or routines youâd ask him to try out and make his own, not only will he deliver, but heâll blow your expectations out of the water while heâs at it, too.Â
It doesnât help that he knows his own body well enough to channel each movement with passion that makes him look alluring to everyone who dares to watch any of his performances. Minghao isnât vain or conceited or anything like that, but heâs completely aware of how attractive he is, and thatâs a trait thatâs further amplified by his dancing.Â
You suppose the funniest part about this senior-junior relationship you have with him is how he always asks for your input about his routines. Even if Minghao has long proved that he doesnât even need a pseudo-mentor like you, he still takes the time to hear out whatever you have to sayâeager eyes always shining every time you indulge him with an answer.
Another thing that inevitably brought the two of you closer is the fact that you both take the same train and get off at the same station. Your apartment is in a different neighborhood from his, but you find comfort in the newfound company youâve been given since Minghaoâs arrival. Though he doesnât talk much outside discussions about work and other dance-related topics, having someone familiar to sit right next to you on the train is more than enough to quell the dayâs fatigue.
Your other colleagues sometimes voice out their envious comments jokinglyâsaying that youâre extremely lucky to have such a hot guy as constant company. Almost always, you respond with a vigorous shake of your head before insisting that things between you and Minghao arenât at all like that. Besides, you know better than to nurse a romantic relationship between your colleagues. You wouldnât even let yourself have a crush on any of them.Â
What they donât know, however, is that on very rare occasions when your body feels just a little too heated, and your sheets a few threads too thick, itâs Minghao that flits into your mind as your hesitant fingers reach between your thighs.Â
You touch yourself to the thought of him taking you in one of the dance studios. Specifically, in front of the full-stretch mirrors as he fucks you from behind. You imagine him whispering how good you are for him, how youâre taking his cock so, so well.Â
Subverting the mere image of the kind man who constantly seeks your validation for his performance has you creaming on your own fingers within minutes, and if you werenât such a terrible person, you wouldâve felt bad for thinking about him in such an obscene light.Â
Then again, what Minghao doesnât know wonât kill him.
His first month in the agency comes and goes like the changing seasons. Next thing you know, itâs time for monthly evaluations again.Â
While others would usually dread these assessments, you looked forward to them. You know that theyâre less a measure of talent, and more a measure of hard work. Sure, talent could be one of the main driving factors of getting a high score, but you know better than anyone else that talent is nothing if you donât work hard enough to cultivate it.Â
Thatâs the kind of mindset that always landed you in the top of the rankings for every monthly evaluation.
And itâs the same mindset that puts you immediately beneath Minghao.Â
The agency is always prompt with the release of the results. Theyâd post the typewritten scores next to the dancersâ names in the bulletin board at the ground floor cafeteria for everyone to see two days after the monthly evaluation.
It was a bit of a challenge to squeeze past the other dancers to get a good look at this monthâs resultsâthe crowd being more chatty than usual. Your closer friends insisted that youâd be number one as usual, and that you didnât have to check at all.Â
Part of you wants to believe them, but the unsettling feeling that pools in the pit of your stomach doesnât let you become complacent. It doesnât help that everyone around you seems like theyâre sneaking glances your wayâonly to look away when you try to catch their gaze.Â
When you finally make it to the front of the board, you notice that Minghao is already thereâalready dressed to kill for todayâs sets and routines. His black hair is still damp like he just got out of the shower and rushed straight to work, eyes glued to the bulletin board. You wouldâve let your gaze linger a bit longer on his gorgeous face, had it not been for the surprise that awaits you on that single sheet of paper plastered right in front of you.
1. Xu Minghao â 100 points
Your vision tunnels in, white noise ringing in your ears.Â
You could vaguely make out the characters of your name just below Minghaoâs, and just a few points from a perfect score. But you didnât care about that. All you could focus on was the fact that youâve been kicked out of a spot thatâs been yours for as long as you can remember.Â
No wonder the others were buzzing amongst themselves, flashing you brief looks before whispering their thoughts on the matter to the nearest willing ear. Not a single soul has ever garnered a hundred fucking points from monthly evaluations. The evaluators cut no corners when it came to assessing their dancersâ level of skill and technique, and seeing how they deigned to give Minghao, a complete newbie, a perfect goddamned scoreâ
âCongratulations, bro!âÂ
âMinghao, youâre a fucking beast! How long did you even practice?â
âThatâs so cool. No oneâs ever gotten a perfect hundred before.â
âYouâve gotta tell us the secret, please!â
Like a bunch of bees, the collective of dancers start to crowd Minghaoâgiving him congratulatory gestures and greetings alike. Your understudy simply gazes at them as if in a daze, but ever-so slowly, a smile cracks through his typically stoic demeanor.Â
âUh, thank youâŠ?â
Heâs whisked away to the cafeteria before you can blink, and you can only watch in shocked desolation as they all usher themselves away from the board.
Away from you.Â
You donât miss the way Minghao tries to catch your gaze in the midst of it all, the smile he showcased for everyone to see falling the moment he realized youâre still rooted in place. Yet he doesnât try to break free from the crowd, nor does he attempt to call your name out loud.Â
Not that you have any plans on answering if he did.
Itâs only after todayâs session has concluded that Minghao manages to pull you to the side for a conversation. Youâre already halfway out of the building when he catches you, and you can tell that the sheer euphoria of knowing you came out on top is still humming in his veins.Â
It pisses you off.
âThank you,â he says simply.Â
âFor what?â You try not to sound too gruff, but the pensiveness in your voice comes out anyway. âLetting you take my spot?â
Minghaoâs grin dips into a grimaceâmirroring his expression from earlier. âWhat? I meant to say thank you for showing me the ropes. If it werenât for you, I wouldnât haveâhey!â
Youâre probably being immature. No, youâre definitely being immature. Instead of accepting Minghaoâs gratitude like a normal fucking person, you continue brisk-walking to the buildingâs entrance without letting him finish. Of course, he chases after you, asking if he did anything wrong or if youâre simply in a bad mood or both.Â
You donât answer him even when he continues pestering you on the way to the train station, and he doesnât stop despite the lack of responses from your end. Itâs beginning to get on your nerves, too, because he was never this goddamn pushy during all those times you went home together. Whatâs stopping him from being the quiet companion heâs always been?
âCan you just shut the fuck up, Hao?â you end up snapping at him when you finally get off at your shared stationâearning yourself a bunch of questioning looks from nearby commuters. âYou donât have to fucking rub it in anymore than you have. I already know the results, okay?!â
âRubbing what in?â he asks, exasperated. âIâm just asking you whatâs wrong because you donât normally act this way. Is it so bad for me to worry about my friend?â
âFriend?â you echo mirthlessly. âNo fucking friend of mine takes away what belongs to me.â
This time, when you storm off, Minghao doesnât follow you.
Fortunately, that all happened on a Friday. It takes you the entire weekend after that heated encounter at the train station to realize that maybe you went a little overboard with what you said to Minghao.Â
As you replay your conversation in your head, youâre filled with a crippling sense of embarrassment. The top spot for monthly evaluations belongs only to the bestâyou know this better than anyone else. The only reason that the evaluators deemed you as a second placer is because Minghao is that proficient in his dancing.Â
Youâre one of the people who was able to watch him closest. Youâve seen the work he put into practice firsthand. You even called him a prodigy.Â
So why did you make a fool out of yourself by having a meltdown at the fact that you got beaten by someone who obviously worked harder than you did?
Hard work beats talent any day. But Minghao has both honed to perfection.Â
If youâre going to reclaim your rightful spot on the top, crying about it is the last thing you should do. Youâre going to have to put in double the effort to call yourself worthy.
As expected, Minghao has started to distance himself from you after that spat. You donât blame him. As much as you wanted to apologize for your behavior that night, you wouldnât want to remain friends with a sore loser if you were in his shoes.Â
But as his second month in the agency breezes past, you notice that, not only has he distanced himself, but heâs become somewhatâŠhostile.
He treats everyone else the same way since he came inâstoically with a few words of affirmation here and there. You, though? Itâs almost like heâs forgotten all about the time you were assigned to look after him. Thereâs always this cockiness lingering in his eyes that grates at your nerves more than you thought it would. Heâd throw you haughty glances whenever he catches you flubbing some parts of the choreography from the corner of his eye.Â
The worst part is that Minghao is more vocal now compared to when he first came inânot seeing any problem with pointing out how youâre starting to slack off during practice.Â
âHow are you expecting yourself to take back the crown when youâre already breathless after such a simple routine?â he gloats when he catches you lingering by the water fountain, lips curved into a smirk.
You glare at him while you take a sip from your water bottle. âFuck you. Iâve been rehearsing all fucking day. Who wouldnât be tired?â
âPeople who rank first in monthly evals,â he says boredly. âOh, but you wouldnât know about that, now would you? At least, not anymore.â
Youâre so fucking close to tearing his face off with your own fingernails that youâre slightly grateful that Minghao gets called back onto the dancefloor to polish his groupâs routine. Minghaoâs constitution changes in a flashâthat arrogant look he reserves for you alone making way for his usual aloof expression while he makes his way back.Â
He always looks cool and amicable to others, but when no oneâs looking he makes sure you catch the patronizing tilt of his lips whenever he pulls off some high level choreography with zero mistakes. As if to remind you that youâre never going to take back what he stole from you. Not in a million years.Â
Okay. Maybe you do hate Xu Minghao.Â
You hate him a fucking lot.
âŠ
Minghao proves that the results he reaped from his first month in the agency are no fluke.
For three consecutive months, youâre forced to stand in front of the cafeteriaâs bulletin board with his name plastered on the very top. If you hadnât known better, you wouldâve thought that the evaluators were only editing the month indicated on top of the sheet with how stagnant the results always are.Â
The agencyâs rising star consistently comes out on top with little to no effort, while youâre desperately clawing your way back to glory at second place.Â
You didnât know what the fucking deal was. You worked your ass off twenty four-seven. Even if you werenât in the studio, you made sure to study all sorts of routines and choreographies so your body would remember the movements deep into your bones.Â
But then you remember that even if hard work beats talent, you can never beat a man who has both at his disposal.
Youâre at your witsâ end at this pointâso close to giving up on the title you thought would always belong to you. Your evasive behavior did you no favors in maintaining a good reputation among your colleagues either. If you listened to their hushed conversations closely enough, youâd catch them saying how pathetic youâre being. Ostracizing yourself all because youâre insecure that your understudy became your adversary.Â
The only reason you hate what theyâre saying about you behind your back is because all of it is true.
Your usual group of friends doesnât sit with you at your usual table at the cafeteria anymore, but you donât really mind thatâlearning this late into your career that silence can be more beneficial than it seems. But every time you see Minghao laughing at a joke told by one of your colleagues, you canât help but feel that familiar bite of resentment youâve come to associate with everything he does.
If only he didnât overtake you during his first goddamn month here. If only he wasnât the one assigned to be your understudy. Maybe the blow to your pride wouldnât have been this bad. Maybe you wouldnât be licking your wounds in your loneliness.Â
Maybe you wouldnât have lost a friend you actually liked having around.
âŠ
With an upcoming dance competition, itâs no surprise that the dancers at your agency often stay behind to polish their performances to perfection. Usually, practices would adjourn hours before the sun even sets, but these days, you find yourself exiting the building no earlier than nine PM.Â
The excessive practice time has been taking a toll on youâthis much you know. Your muscles have been sore for days, and no amount of painkillers and Salonpas can easily cure your affliction right away. So for tonight, you decide to take it easyâpacking up once the clock hits six oâclock. The last thing you want is to accidentally pull something you shouldnât, thus rendering your participation in the competition null and void.
But as you walk towards the train station, you realize that perhaps staying later was a smarter move after all. All around you, commuters of all ages and walks of life brush past you in their hasteâthe need to arrive home as soon as possible like a cloud on everybodyâs heads. The closer you got to the station, the more it dawned on you.
Itâs fucking rush hour.
Youâve always avoided going home during this time for two reasons. The first is the influx of commuters thatâs literally and figuratively too suffocating to deal with, especially when your physical constitution isnât in the best shape.Â
The second isâŠbecause you noticed that, ever since your platonic breakup, Minghao has started leaving the studio at this hour. Later than your previous commutes home, but earlier than your new work-yourself-to-the-bone schedule. Sure, heâs still the biggest fucking prick to walk the earth whenever he feels like taunting you during practice, but he doesnât seem interested in working overtime.Â
If youâre being completely honest, youâre over the monthly evaluation results. Honest! Youâve just come to accept that nothing is ever set in stone.
Things change all the time. Humans used to believe the earth was flat. The Athenians once thought of Platoâs bullshit as the gospel truth, andâ
You dared to assume youâll be on top of the world forever.
What happened months ago was a reality check, and slowly but surely, youâre relearning the difference between ambitious and obnoxious. Itâs a humbling experience that youâre honestly grateful for happening becauseâŠif it werenât for that harsh reminder that thereâll always be someone out there whoâs better than you, then you wouldnât strive to improve at all.
You let out a quaint sigh when you settle into the train. As expected, tonightâs commuters have filled it out to complete capacity, and you wouldnât have caught the last available space near the doors if you hadn't sprinted like a madman. Though your aching muscles practically scream in complaint, you comfort yourself with the promise of a long soak in your bathtub the moment you get home.
The smooth tone of the announcerâs voice rings from the overhead speakers, telling all passengers to step away from the doors, as the train is about to leave. Not that any of you can help it. Youâre all packed like sardines in whatâs usually a pretty spacious train car if you came in just an hour earlier or later.Â
All of a sudden, you find yourself missing those days where youâd sit on the side where you could see the sunset breezing past the windowsâlistening to the stories of someone you canât even hold a civilized conversation with anymore. But before that train of thought can progress any further, you shake your head as if the mere gesture alone can dispel your longing.
You try to press yourself back to avoid getting crushed by the automatic doors, muttering a quiet apology to the person behind you since you ended up subsequently squeezing him further into the crowd of cramped passengers. When the doors finally close, you hear him say a quick itâs okay, back at you, youâre forced to whip around in the limited space with your mouth agape.
Right behind you is Xu Minghao, looking just as distressed as you are.
Heâs changed out of his usual practice clothesâhaving exchanged it for an oversized crewneck and sweats. His expensive headphones hang unused around his neck, and you wonder if you wouldnât have noticed each other if only he was blasting music directly into his earsâŠ
The urge to take back your courteous apology is strong, but you would much rather not give him any more of your energy than you already have. Youâd take all his insults and badmouthing head-on in the studio, but itâs been a really long day, and you donât have enough fire going to extend his hostility inside a crowded train in the middle of rush hour.Â
âWhyâre you out so early?â
You can feel gooseflesh prickle the skin of your shoulders when you feel Minghaoâs breath next to your ear. A glare settles between your eyes as you jolt away from him in the limited space that affords you to do so.Â
âWatch it, asshole. Youâre way too close for comfort,â you hiss. âAnd the time I go home is none of your business.â
Minghao shrugs. âI dunno, you always stay late to practice. Is it so bad to be curious?â
âYeah, because if it hasnât occurred to you yet, I actually hate your guts, and I donât appreciate you talking to me like weâre friends.â
He falls silent for a moment, and in the next moment the train lurches into motionânearly catching you off balance. Youâre quick to brace a hand against the door, but you startle again when you feel a large hand around your arm, touching you in a way thatâs meant to steady. You spare Minghao another glance, but thereâs less vitriol laced in your gaze and more confusion.
âAre weâŠâ he whispers, gaze shied away from yours as he maintains a steady grip on your arm. Then, he gulps. âAre we not friends anymore?â
Again, you scowl.Â
Is he being real with you right now?
âDude, I am completely over the monthly evaluations if you think thatâs the reason Iâm being the way I am with you,â you hiss. âI was going to apologize after I said all that hurtful stuff in the past. But then you went ahead and started writing your very own villain arc. So, ask yourself: were you even my friend at all, Hao?â
The sound of that nickname making its way past your lips is familiar yet foreign at the same time. During these past few months, youâve never once called Minghao anything else but asshole, dick, jerk, self-centered punk, and other variations of those words. You donât want to admit it, but calling him by something thatâs close to an endearment makes you feel like thereâs cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.Â
Minghao doesnât respond yet again, and you force yourself to face forwardâleaning your head against the glass of the door so you wouldnât have to look back at him anymore. Youâre pretty sure the salaryman right next to you has been eavesdropping on your conversation this entire time, but itâs not like he has any other choice given the circumstances.Â
You let the constant whir of the train engine lull you into a calmer disposition, heartbeat finally equalizing after everything you just shot at Minghao. Thatâs probably the most youâve said to him all month, and to say that youâre not the least bit embarrassed about how you admitted wanting to apologize for a past transgression is a blatant lie.Â
But whatâs done is done. Youâre just going to have to accept the fact that the man you once thought of as a good friend; the same man whoâs now the main antagonist of your life and career, is standing behind you in your rush hour commute. Just twenty minutes more, and heâll be out of your hair soon.Â
Much to your delight, Minghao keeps his mouth shut until the train pulls over at the next station. The doors open with a mechanical ding, accompanied by the announcer's voice yet again. Youâve heard the monologue thousands of times, but you donât quite hear it over the throng of passengers rushing to get off the train.Â
You make way for them by scooting towards the back of the car, and Minghao does the same. But instead of shuffling away from you the moment thereâs more room to move around like you thought he would, he lingers closely to your form.Â
However, the amount of people that got off on this station is quickly replenished by a new horde of passengersâquickly filling in the space you thought would last for at least a few more stations. Once again, you find yourself slowly being squeezed closer to the corner of the car, but for some reason, Minghao wedges himself between you and the unassuming college boy whose wireless earphones are plugged in as he scrolls through his phone.Â
When you realize what heâs trying to do, you say, âYou donât have to protect me or anything. Iâm fine on my own.â
Minghao rolls his eyes. âYou obviously didnât see how you looked like youâre about to get crushed. Just thank me and weâre good.â
A biting retort is already resting on your tongue with how passive-aggressive that response of his sounds like. What the hell is his problem? Itâs not like you asked for him to shield you from the other passengers.Â
And yetâŠ
âThanks, I guess.â
You watch him visibly stiffen at your words, and you feel your heart slamming into your ribcage the moment you utter them. Did you really just thank the same man whoâs been making your life at work a living hell for months?
The train starts to pick up speed again before you can answer that yourself.
You practically glare at the corner youâve been forced into the entire trip to the next station. Minghao is right behind you, but you canât be assed to worry about that when youâre chewing your lip out of frustration. Part of you feels relieved that you swallowed your pride and thanked him, but the part thatâs been receiving the brunt of his antagonism for the past half year hisses in disagreement.
Heâs an asshole. Heâs a self-centered prick that uses people as stepping stones. Heâsâ
â...Sorry.â
You refuse to turn around. You refuse to believe that heâs actuallyâ
âIâm sorry for being a jerk to you,â Minghao murmurs, and you feel his fingers graze your shoulder as if to emphasize the words with the sincerity of his touch. âI just⊠I didnât know how to act when you lashed out at me back then. Y-You were my only friend, and I thought youâd be proud that I achieved something after working so hard for an entire month.â
Youâre at a loss for words, completely stunned by the honesty in his voice. Youâve only known Minghao for a short whileâbeen on good terms with him for even shorterâbut you can always tell whenever heâs lying.Â
This is not one of those times.
âAâŠfriend of mine told me that I tend to act based on how Iâm treated,â he continues. âI know that doesnât excuse how Iâve been acting around you for so long, but⊠I guess when I got the hint that you hated me, the only way I could cope with that is to hate you right back. Even if I really didnât.â
No. This isn't real. Youâre dreaming. This is probably a side-effect from all those late hours youâve spent in the studioâ
You let out a soft squeak when you feel him rest his forehead against the back of your head, sighing so deeply, it makes you wonder how long heâs been thinking about apologizing properly. Minghao grips your arms again, not to help maintain your balance, but more to anchor himself onto his own.Â
âI donât care if everyone else in the studio looks at me like Iâm some sort of god on the dancefloor,â he admits, voice so quiet, you could barely hear him. âThe only person Iâd want to look at me is you.âÂ
Your breath hitches, and youâre sure he hears it.Â
âCan we please go back to normal again?â Minghao pleads. âI miss hearing your comments about my dances. I miss going home together.
âI miss you.â
The sincerity in his voice singes through you like a red-hot iron poker. You donât know what to say, what to feel. All you can focus on is the stuttering breaths Minghao takes from behind you.Â
If youâve ever imagined reconciling with him, this certainly isnât the most optimal venue. But now that heâs bared his defenses, you donât see any benefit to keeping up your own.
âIâmâŠsorry and I missed you, too,â you admit somewhat sheepishly, thanking the higher deities up there that he canât see the way your blood rushes to your cheeks. âBut I donât really know how toââ
Your sentence is cut off mid-way when the train abruptly runs into a bump on the tracks, forcing Minghaoâs body against yours when he momentarily loses his footing. Itâs an accident, and you wouldnât have minded since some turbulence in this part of the city isn't rare at all. But that split second where Minghao got thrown against you from the impact made you all too cognizant of how thin the material of both your skirt and his sweatpants are.
âSorry, sorry,â Minghao sighs before bracing an arm towards one of the walls to your left. The rustle of his clothes gives rise to the scent of his cologne wafting to your nostrilsâa fresh, not-too-musky aroma that makes your head spin despite.
Just your luck, the train pitches to the side and you feel Minghaoâs groin brush against your ass once again. This time, youâre not strong enough to hold down the soft whimper that tumbles out of your lips, and you donât even feel ashamed about it.
Suddenly, you remember a time from back then where youâd spend your nights getting off to the same man whoâs unknowingly sparking your arousal in the unlikeliest of places. Youâve once fucked yourself to the thought of him, so whatâs the use with getting embarrassed now? As long as he doesnât know, you should be fine.
Except Minghao isnât deaf, and he definitely picked up on that suggestive little noise you just made.
Experimentally, he lets one of his hands dip lower and lower until his fingertips brush the hem of your skirt. That sinfully short skirt that keeps riding up your thighs every time you do a rather bold move during practice. His eyes are completely trained on you even if youâre still facing the corner, and when he feels you shiver, all the blood in his system rushes down south.
âYouâre into this?â Minghao chuckles, bracing his hands on your hips before sliding his growing arousal against the ridge of your ass. âMy⊠I didnât think mending our friendship again would go this swimmingly. How about I take you out to dinner first?â
âHao!â you chastise him with a poisonous look, but from the way you subtly rock your hips in time with his movements, Minghao can tell that dinner is the last thing on your mind right now.
He chuckles softly, keeping one hand steady on your hip while the other dips beneath your skirt again. When his fingers immediately press down against the gusset of your underwear, Minghao has to bite down a groan because of the wet patch thatâs already accumulated at the center.Â
âNot only did you ditch your shorts, but youâre already this wet? From a little grinding?â he hisses into your ear. âNeedy fucking slut.â
You canât help the way your pussy clenches at the harsh name he just called you. Itâs all so strange. You never once reacted this way whenever he called you a bitch or anything similar, but you suppose when youâve made amends with a friend youâve secretly been wanting to fuck since you first laid your eyes on him, thereâs no use keeping up any charades.
âYour hatred was all just an act, isnât it?â he laughs, nudging your underwear to the side so he can get a feel of just how wet you areas you spread your legs to accommodate him. âDo you rile me up on purpose because you canât deal with the fact that you actually want me?â
"You're delusional," you bite back.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really."
Another low laugh rumbles in his chest and you swear you don't get wetter with each hum of it as he presses closer to your ear. "Lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."
Youâre about to answer him when the announcerâs voice rings from the speakers yet again, saying that the next station is approximately five minutes away. This promptly rips you out of your lustful haze as you realize youâre very much still in public, where dozens upon dozens of passengers still share the same car with the both of you. Minghao seems to pick up on your split-second realization, but doesnât seem fazed by the idea of getting caught doing this in the presence of strangers.
âLots of passengers are going to get off at the next station, but not a lot are going to get on like the last one,â he whispers before plunging two of his fingers into your sopping cunt without warning.Â
You have to physically cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from gasping out loud. When you turn to look at Minghao again, eyes ablaze with disbelief, he simply flashes you an evil smile.
âIf you want to come on my fingers, do it in five minutes, whore.â
The sensation of his long, slender digits curling inside you forces you to brace yourself against your tiny little corner of that train car. Your skin prickles everywhere as Minghao grinds his half-hard cock against your backside, all while he works between your pussy lips as if heâs thought about it dozens of times before.Â
His digits dip in and out of your entrance like he doesnât know what he wants to do first. Poke and prod at every inch of sensitive flesh there is or fuck you until youâre a moaning mess for everyone to see. Either way, youâre panting all while Minghao maps the expanse of your pussy with his touch alone, and every time those sinful fingers brush against your clit, you jolt in response.
âShh,â he coos. âDonât be too obvious, sweetheart. Wouldnât want the entire train knowing how much of an impatient fucking slut you areâwhoring all over my fingers âcause you canât wait to get off the train.â
You involuntarily clench at his filthy words, begrudgingly unearthing a kink you didnât even know you had. But at the mere mention of the other passengers, you let your eyes frantically pass over those nearby. You donât know if theyâre really preoccupied on their phones or pretending not to notice the act of indecency thatâs happening right beneath their noses. The college boy that almost crushed you earlier is still banging his head to whatever song is playing on his phone, and you take that as a sign to let yourself go.
âNow that wonât do,â Minghao tuts before sliding his fingers back inside you, nudging your thighs even further apart before curling his digits just so. âHow can you come in five minutes if youâre so distracted?â
âF-Fuck,â you whine as quietly as you can. âHao, f-feels so good.â
âYeah?â he laughs softly and your vision goes black for a moment when you feel his thumb graze your clit with just the right pressure. Just how dextrous can he be? âThen focus on my fingers, sweetheart. If you canât come before the train arrives at the next station, maybe Iâll just go back to hating you tomorrow after all.â
You nearly choke on a moan when he starts to rub your sensitive nub in varying pressures and speeds, nearly robbing you of your ability to speak. âYouâre a f-fucking asshole, you know that?â
âYouâre a fucking bitch, but see where that got you now?â
Itâs almost like youâre hard-wired to rebut everything he says, and you have all those months of shared antagonism to thank for it. But when Minghao crooks his fingers at a slightly different angle, your already sore legs nearly give out when his fingers hit you deep enough to make stars dance in the seams of your vision.
âOh?â He sounds so smug, you actually want to hit him. âThere it is.â
You can hardly believe it. You can barely find your own g-spot even on good days if you donât put your back into using your toys right, yet Minghao got it in less than five minutes, inside a train full of passengers, no less?
Your brain has all but fizzled out when the pads of his fingers start to massage that sweet, sweet spot inside of you againâmilking your body for all those lovely reactions youâre so willing to give to him. Minghaoâs cock is an ever-present weight against your ass, but this isnât about him. Itâs about you, and how badly he wants to feel you come apart on his fingers right here, right now.
âYou liked being fingered on the train, sweetheart?â Minghao rasps into your ear, relentless in his movements as tears start to line your lashes. âLike it when you supposedly hate the man thatâs doing this to you? Thatâs made you this fucking wet?â
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Youâd let him stick his dick into you right now if he wanted, but you know that Minghao isnât going to risk that just yet. So instead, you focus on the sensation of those skillful fingersâthe same ones youâve dreamt about a long time agoâcoaxing out a high you never thought youâd achieve outside the four corners of your bedroom.Â
You can think about his stroke game later. Those powerful thighs as he thrusts into you. Not to mention how euphoric it would feel to come around his cock, milking him for that white-hot release until it dribbles down your thighs and he inevitably fucks it all back into youâ
The stimulation of Minghaoâs dexterous digits coupled with the thrill of being caught are the main players for todayâs debauchery, but itâs that particular fantasy that pushes you over the edge.Â
One moment, you feel like youâre on top of the world again, and the next you can taste blood in your mouth with how hard you bite against your lip to muffle your moans. A gush of slick coats Minghaoâs fingers as he helps you ride out of your orgasm, peppering the side of your face with butterfly kisses.
âPretty little whore, coming in record time,â he chuckles.
You can barely just start taming your breathing when Minghao takes his fingers out of your pantiesâtugging your skirt down back to semi-decency before prodding those same fingers against your lips. Still dazed from the high he just let you experience, you open your mouth, lathering your tongue against each digit as the tangy taste of you fills your tastebuds.Â
âGood fucking girl.â
The train eases into the next station, and just as Minghao predicted, the car frees up just enough for you to get comfortably seated by the windows again. He sits right next to you the whole timeâhand never straying from yours as he holds it firmly in his. For some reason, that gesture of his flusters you more than the stunt he just pulled five minutes ago.
When you both get off the vehicle, the awkwardness begins to settle in your system. You donât know what youâre supposed to say to him after all of...that. Is there even a protocol to follow after getting finger-fucked on public transportation?
âHey.â
You startle when Minghao breathes out while the two of you make your way out of the station. Itâs the first time heâs broken the silence since arriving, and your heart pounds in anticipation of what heâs about to say next.
âI really am sorry for all the shit I said to you these past few months,â he sighs, rubbing the back of his head like heâs just as clueless about what to do as you are.
You blink up at him. âUm, yeah. You already told me, Hao.â
âI just figured it was worth repeating.â
âGiving me a mindblowing orgasm is a good enough apology on its own, you know.â
He stops walking for a moment, and you look back at him with brows raised.
âReally now?â he asks, andâthereâs that smirk again. That no good smirk. âI donât think Iâve received a âgood enough apologyâ from you yet, sweetheart.â
One glance at his sweats, and sure enough, the evidence of his own raging arousal is still up for grabs. You feel your pussy tingle at the mere thought of whatâs to come once you voice out your agreement, even if your overworked muscles are begging for a break.
Oh, well. Might as well stock up on more painkillers on the way.
âą end notes: i really really REALLY went overboard on this one and there isn't even any piv sex in action holy fucking shit LMFAO TT to lovely user yourfavoritefreakyhan, i hope i didn't scare you off with the word count JSHFD I REALLY JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY AHAHS hao has been testing me for DAYS and it manifested in this . anyway, pls don't expect every request from my ask game to turn out this fucking long bc this rly was just a heat of the moment creation AJSDHSJHF
2K notes
·
View notes