#the8 fic

[wheeboo]

caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao

SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k

notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha

Minghao likes these kinds of days.

Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.

Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.

Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.

He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.

The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.

The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.

Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.

Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.

"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"

You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.

"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."

Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.

He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.

"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"

"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.

"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."

You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."

Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.

"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."

He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.

"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."

You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.

"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."

"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."

Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.

"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips  and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."

There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.

"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."

You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.

It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.

"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.

A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.

"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.

"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.

Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.

He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.

"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.

You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.

"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.

When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.

Y/N, he repeats in his mind.

"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.

You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.

"It's on the house."

You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."

You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."

Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.

But you're smiling, so he smiles back.

"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."

As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.

"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."

"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."

The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.

It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.

And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.

Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.

The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.

When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.

After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.

When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.

"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.

Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"

"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."

Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.

"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"

You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.

"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."

This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.

"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"

His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.

"The date didn't go well at all, actually."

Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."

You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."

The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.

After a long pause, you finally break the silence.

"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."

Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.

"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."

You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.

"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."

You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"

"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."

The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.

"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."

Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."

For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.

"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"

Minghao just nods. "Sure."

From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.

"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."

You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.

"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."

Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.

"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."

You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.

"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."

"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.

"Yes, please. Thank you."

After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.

As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.

"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."

Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.

There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."

A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.

"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.

Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."

"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."

"Take all the time you need."

And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.

He was blooming, too.

"Do you have a favourite flower?"

The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.

"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."

The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.

"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."

"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."

The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.

"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."

You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.

"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."

Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."

You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"

Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."

You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.

"Are you flirting with me right now?"

However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.

Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."

"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"

Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.

There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.

"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.

"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"

"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.

He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.

"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."

You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.

"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.

Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.

The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.

"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"

You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.

"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"

"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.

The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."

You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"

With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.

The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.

"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."

You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."

Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.

"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.

Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"

"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."

Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.

Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"

Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.

But... does it bother you?

"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"

"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."

You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.

"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.

Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."

"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."

This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.

"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a  wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"

You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"

Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.

"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."

When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.

"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.

As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.

"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."

"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."

Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.

When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.

Minghao hates seeing flowers die.

The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.

The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.

The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.

He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.

"Y/N?"

There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.

"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"

Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.

"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.

"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"

The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.

"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."

With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.

"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."

Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.

It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.

You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.

"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.

Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.

"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.

None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.

Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.

"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.

You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."

Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.

The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.

His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.

You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.

"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"

"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."

You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.

His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.

But then he stops himself.

He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.

But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.

Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.

"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."

You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.

"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."

Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"

"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."

Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.

So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.

"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."

Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.

"Minghao..."

"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."

There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.

"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"

The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.

"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."

The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.

You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.

"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.

Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.

"I know," is all he says.

The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.

Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.

You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.

The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.

It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.

He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.

So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.

It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.

But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.

Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.

Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.

As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.

And when he looks up, he freezes.

"I'm not late, aren't I?"

It's you.

The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.

"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."

Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click.

Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.

"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."

Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.

"Have you been busy?" You ask him.

"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."

"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"

Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.

"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."

You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.

"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."

Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.

"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.

"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."

Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.

"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."

You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."

Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.

"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.

You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.

However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.

"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.

Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.

He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.

His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."

His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.

And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.

This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.

He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.

Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.

"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."

A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"

"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."

"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.

Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."

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[cheolism]

BREAK AND RETURN

✰ — brother's-bandmate!minghao x f!reader ✷ — summary: last week minghao did what he thought was best and put an end to your fling. he sees you again before band practice and can't help but give in to his desires. ✰ — wc is approx. 5k ✷ — genre: 90s au, smut, fwb/fucking your brother's friend ✰ — warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it! yk it!), pet names (good girl, angel, etc), jealousy, possessiveness, and lust. backshots, off-screen masturbation, fingering and pussy-licking. lmk if anything else should be added :) ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: this is a part of @beomcoups's "now that's 90's" svt collab! thank u very much for letting me join the collab! i had fun chatting n interacting with new people ^-^ i hope everyone enjoys the fic!! thank you very much to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and reassuring me <3 tagging @idyllic-ghost and @onlyhuis bc i think you both wanted tagged but i can't remember, so sorry!!!

here’s the thing: minghao isn’t stupid. 

he knows better. he truly does. he isn’t some idiot stuck at a claw machine at an arcade, doesn’t keep feeding it his money while never getting any closer to winning a prize. minghao knows when to quit something, when to step away. 

that’s why he broke things off with you, after all. he had thought it would be easy. the two of you weren’t in a real relationship. you weren’t like tom cruise and nichole kidman – the two of you were just fucking. no strings attached. 

but of course there were strings attached. you’re the kid sister to his friend and bandmate, josh; at first minghao thought he would be fine keeping it a secret. he didn’t need to take you out on dates and show you off like you were the best thing since bon jovi. the two of you were content in each other’s arms, naked chest against naked chest, legs intertwined as you dozed off. 

minghao, however, wasn’t stupid.

he knew there were strings attached to the both of you. he knew that it was a bad idea, fucking his bandmate’s little sister. every time he kissed your warm mouth, he knew he was betraying josh’s trust. it wasn’t fair of him to to that to josh, and it wasn’t fair of him to put you, josh’s sister, in a position to lie to your own brother. 

so minghao took initiative and broke off the relationship. 

he wasn’t stupid, and he knew the first time he would see you after breaking up with you would be hard. he knew it would be. it’s hard for real couples, for couples that hold hands as they walk down the street and talk about what to name the cat they’re going to adopt. he had imagined it would be hard, to some degree, to see you. the two of you might have steered away from such topics as rings and shared apartments and other things that left the fantasy of forever in your minds, but he knew you. he knew how you sighed after he kissed the space under your ear, he knew how you looked fresh from the shower with your face shining from the heat of the water. he knew how you looked when you concentrated on painting your toes, how you looked when you begged him to see clueless at the theater because josh thought it would be stupid and you didn’t know who else to ask. 

he knew you, and perhaps that was worse than dating you. 

he knew you, and you knew him, and minghao isn’t stupid but he didn’t know that seeing you again would hurt so much. 

you look beautiful. you always do, according to minghao. you’re sitting on that old couch josh and him spent an hour trying to shove into the garage for their band practices. you’re wearing ridiculous clothes, baggy comfy pants and the ugly oversized sweater with the worn collar and checkers and stripes on it. you’re talking to soonyoung, hands waving excitedly as the two of you laugh. your beauty bubbles out with every breath of laughter, seems to radiate in your chest like a little star, and minghao knows that even if winona ryder was in the room with them he would still choose you as the most beautiful. 

you catch sight of minghao. you shoot him a grin, large and inviting, as if he hadn’t made you cry last week. you give him a little wave. “hi, minghao!”

and then you turn back to soonyoung, your knee pressed against his. 

it’s so ridiculous; he’s ridiculous. minghao feels his stomach twist, as if someone was wringing it like a wash cloth after doing dirty dishes. you’re beautiful and radiant, and you spoke two words to minghao before turning to soonyoung, as if minghao wasn’t anyone particularly special. 

he can’t help but stare at you. you lift a hand, and, in a move he recognizes as you flirting because you’ve done it to him when you want him to fuck you, you tuck your hair back behind your ear. you are wearing small pearl stud earrings and immediately minghao recognizes them as the ones he bought for you a year and a half ago, right before the two of you started fucking. 

you tuck your hair back behind your ear and soonyoung watches, his mouth parted a little, and minghao feels like he needs to punch something. 

“funny, isn’t it?” josh says, appearing at minghao’s side. josh runs his tongue over his lip ring, pulling at the sleeves of his plaid jacket. “it looks like soonyoung’s got a crush on my kid sister.”

“yeah,” minghao says, throat tight. he watches as soonyoung edges slightly closer, his thigh now pressed firmly against yours. you don’t move away. minghao wants you to move away, or better yet, slap soonyoung. 

minghao isn’t a violent person, either. he isn’t violent, nor is he jealous. but once he also had thought he was above the lure of lust, was above giving into the craving of needing your body against his, dick stuffed in your pussy and his mouth dominating yours. 

maybe you just had some sort of power over him that no one else did. maybe it’s like that movie practical magic, and you’ve placed a spell on him, bewitching him. 

“i think he’s going to ask her out soon,” josh carries on, as if he’s ignorant to the way minghao is one step from having a crisis. “i saw the drive-in is going to be playing jurassic park. i remember when it first came out and how much she loved seeing it at the theater. it’ll be a good chance for soonyoung to ask her on a date.”

minghao scoffs. “you know he’s scared of that movie. whenever we bring out the vhs he runs.”

josh shrugs. “if he likes her as much as i think he does, i think soonyoung will be fine.”

“and you’re okay with it?” minghao turns to josh, putting his back to you and soonyoung. “you’re totally okay with soonyoung dating your sister?”

josh shrugged, twisting his mouth a little in thought. “well. i think – i think he really likes her, you know? he’s not just gonna fuck her and leave her hanging around until he wants her again.”

minghao’s mouth sours, and he bites back a venomous remark. that’s what his relationship with you was like, wasn’t it? he has no place to try and insert himself between you and soonyoung’s blossoming relationship.

“you know how soonyoung is, though,” minghao says, despite himself. he folds his arms in front of him, drumming his fingers against his bare skin. he sees the little flower tattoo on his ring finger, the one he got after you spent an evening at his apartment drawing flowers into your lisa frank notebook with glitter pens. “he’s flighty. he’s never stayed with a chick longer than a month. what if he breaks her heart?”

josh hums. “i can’t keep her locked away in the house forever, hao. she’s grown. she can make her own decisions. and if that is soonyoung, the same soonyoung who refuses to drive without everyone wearing seatbelts and insists on someone holding his hand as he gets a tattoo, then i’m fine with that.”

minghao huffs. he walks away from josh, knowing that josh is right. you are grown and can make your own decisions. for a year and a half, that was minghao. you chose to go to his apartment, chose to get on your knees and offer your mouth. you chose to lay by his side, fingers gently tracing the vine tattoo that climbed up his left arm as minghao murmured about the future. for a year and a half you chose minghao, until he took that choice away from you. 

and now you were sitting at soonyoung’s side on an old, musty couch, laughing at some stupid joke. 

minghao grabbed his bass off of its stand, bringing the strap up around his neck. his fingers find the strings naturally, absentmindedly plucking out the beginning of u2’s “one”. on the body of his bass, down towards the bridge, is a strawberry shortcake sticker that you had gingerly pressed onto his instrument. 

josh joins minghao, calling back to soonyoung. jihoon and vernon come through the door leading to the kitchen, each of them holding a jolt cola. 

“finally,” minghao sighs, glaring at the two other men. “come on. practice started ten minutes ago.”

soonyoung stands from the couch, still talking to you. you’re looking up at him with a smile, eyes sparkling. 

“kwon soonyoung!” minghao snaps. he stops playing the bass, narrowing his eyes at soonyoung. “come on! just because you have all day doesn’t mean the rest of us do. why don’t you fucking respect the rest of us and stop flirting and get the fuck over here.”

josh sucks in a breath next to minghao but doesn’t say anything. soonyoung gives you a small wave, and then he’s jogging over. he glances at minghao, murmuring a small apology. 

minghao doesn’t care. he’s watching you. you lean forward, elbows on your knees, tilting your head and eyes on minghao. your sweater – that overly large, horrible sweater – is loose at the collar, and as you lean forward the hole widens and gapes and falls, giving minghao a view of the valley between your tits and the top of your black silk bra, and all that skin above it. 

and he remembers. minghao remembers what it was like to press his mouth to your skin, to hold your tits in his hands and feel their weight and warmth. he remembers being between your warm thighs, remembers how soft your body was and how he always seemed to sink into it. 

you stand. “well, i’ll leave you guys alone so you can practice.”

minghao watches as you leave, the hem of your sweater covering your ass. he remembers you walking from his bed wearing an overly large nirvana shirt, how the hem tapped against your ass as you walked away and to the kitchen. 

and here’s the thing: minghao isn’t stupid. 

he broke things off with you. he isn’t with you anymore, doesn’t have the privilege of getting horny and jealous of you. he doesn’t get to act on his frustrations when he sees you taunting him, when he sees you getting your petty revenge for breaking up with you. you’re stirring something up with soonyoung, and he doesn’t get to veto that, doesn’t get to act as if he has any say in your life. 

after all, he’s the one that made sure he wouldn’t. he’s the one that made sure to draw the line between the two of you. 

practice starts, and minghao is somewhere else entirely. he gets the order of the songs mixed up, starts playing basket case before live forever. he loses all of his picks and has to borrow from vernon, and his mind keeps slipping back to you. 

an hour passes like that, with minghao not really there. he’s between your thighs, face pressed against your pussy; he’s in your arms, heels digging into his back as you urge him to go deeper. he’s everywhere but there, everywhere with you. 

eventually minghao loses another pick, and josh sighs from the front. he goes over to the speaker and dials it off, frowning at everyone. “i’m thinking we should take a break. we’re not doing our best, and everyone seems really scattered right now. let’s break for supper and come back and really put work in.”

the others nod, turning off their instruments or, in jihoon’s case, setting down his drumsticks. “we need to get focused,” jihoon agrees, serious. “we’re not going to keep maintaining gigs if we’re fucking around like this. we need to be serious about what we’re doing. we need to be bringing our everything to every practice. none of this bullshit.” 

josh nods, setting his guitar back in its case. his case, just like minghao’s, is decorated with stickers you’ve slapped on. besides strawberry shortcake there’s lisa frank, rugrats, pokemon. there’s squiggly lines and smiley faces and flowers, all the signs pointing to you. 

“honestly,” joshua says, voice grave, “if, by some fucking miracle, the black rose calls back and says they want us to perform for them, i’ll have to turn them down.”

soonyoung protests, brow furrowed. “come on! this is just one practice we’ve fucked up. it’s not like we’re always fucking around. let’s just take a break, clear our heads, and come back at it. this isn’t something that needs to be repeated or stressed over.”

“i’m thinking about a triple decker pizza,” vernon says, prompted by no one. josh rolls his eyes, grinning, and the band begins to split into groups for food. 

“where you wanna go?” soonyoung asks minghao. he’s blinking innocently at minghao, completely ignorant of the absolute sin going through his mind. he doesn’t know that minghao thought about punching him only an hour ago, doesn’t know he’s been fantasizing about the way your thighs felt under his fingertips while fumbling his fingers over the bass strings. 

“i think i’ll just run home and grab something,” minghao lies, setting his guitar on its stand. soonyoung pouts, nodding. 

minghao lingers behind the others, lying to josh about misplacing his keys and promising to lock the house behind him. you were doing your homework, josh said, and he didn’t want you to be disturbed. 

minghao waits until soonyoung, whom always seems to be the last one to leave, pulls out of the driveway with vernon jamming out in the passenger seat beside him, and then he’s moving. 

he knows the way up to your bedroom as if it was his own. he goes up the carpeted stairs, past the various pictures of you in flouncy dresses and huge bows as babies, past the awkward family photo with you and josh pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, wearing matching sweater vests. he flips on the mickey mouse lightswitch at the top of the staircase, and then he’s opening your bedroom door. 

your room is your sanctuary. the bedroom walls are painted a soft lilac from your childhood, covered in posters from spice girls to nirvana and aerosmith. there’s beanie babies hanging over your mirror, a troll doll on your dresser. your room is littered with comics and cd cases, all of your cds stacked in small piles around the stereo. you’ve got backstreet boys playing from your stereo, and minghao doesn’t even have it in him to make a comment about it. 

meanwhile, you – 

you are on your bed. you’re still wearing that sweater, but that’s all. your blankets are on the floor, pillow stuffed underneath your hips. your entire lower half is bare, one leg extended out and the other bent. the room has the faint, barely-there smell of cunt, and it’s more intoxicating than any drug. 

you meet minghao’s eyes sheepishly, hands smoothing down your thighs. “missed you,” is all you say, fingers slowly dragging across your thighs and towards your center. 

minghao is across the room in record time, pulling off his bomber jacket and throwing it to the ground. “we don’t have a lot of time,” he says, hands pulling up the hem of his shirt to zip down his pants. “the others just went to eat.”

“then you better hurry,” you say, eyes sparkling. you don’t make any comments about him stumbling back into your bed after breaking everything off. instead you spread out your legs, your hands making quick work of your sweater and bra, and minghao falls onto your bed. 

“i’ve prepared,” you say as he settles between your thighs. he can’t help but run his hands over your skin, treasuring the feel of your skin beneath his. this was his favorite place on earth, he realizes; between your thighs, skin to skin. 

“you’ve prepared?” he echos, raising a brow. you nod, biting down on your lip. “been waiting for me, is that it?”

“you or soonyoung,” you say, grinning at him. 

minghao scowls at you, pinching your skin between his fingertips. “shut up,” he commands you. “don’t wanna hear you say his name ever again.”

you laugh at him, reaching out. you lace your fingers around his neck, bringing his face down to yours. you press a quick, close-lipped kiss to his mouth. “sorry,” you say, voice still light and giggly. “couldn’t help it.”

minghao growls, and then he’s lacing his hands in your hair and smashing his mouth back to yours. he pries open your mouth with his tongue, delving in and reclaiming that familiar space. he can’t believe he’s gone over a week without kissing you – it’s a sin, he’s sure, to not kiss you and have you whimpering underneath his touch. it’s a greater sin to not kiss you than it is to be kissing his friend’s little sister, surely. 

he sucks at your bottom lip, moving his hands down your thighs. they’re sticky on the inside, no doubt from when you prepared yourself earlier. when he moves his hand deeper between your thighs it’s wetter, warmer, stickier, and he thinks that this is a heaven of it’s own. you sigh against his mouth, and then he’s ducking his head and moving his body, mouth slipping from yours and skimming down over your chin and along your throat. 

you whine, and he can’t help but chuckle against your skin. he suckles at your throat. you open beneath him so wonderfully, it’s a wonder he was ever able to separate from you at all. 

minghao moves down your body, kissing each and every spot he missed. the top of the valley between your tits, the skin of your shoulder. he mouths at your nipples, slipping his hand up between your legs so his fingers brush at your pussy lips. 

you shiver beneath him. he laps at one of your nipples with his tongue, fingers dipping and sliding your cunt. he doesn’t apply any real pressure,  just content with teasing you and hearing those whines and moans he missed. 

“hao,” you groan out, fingers moving to his hair. you tangle your fingers in his locks, pulling softly. “hao –”

he shushes you, and then his fingers are slipping into your cunt. you moan out, head tipping back. he slips two into your hole, biting down at his lip as your pussy contracts around him, trying to suck his fingers in further, desperate for his touch. 

your cunt is hot around his fingers. it’s not as tight as it would have been if you hadn’t prepared, and it’s easy for him to slide his two fingers down to the base, brushing his fingertips against your core.

“fuck,” he sighs, pressing his face against your stomach. he breathes in, inhaling your scent. you’re so wonderful. you smell wonderful, feel wonderful. he wants to devour you; he can’t imagine why he ever left you. 

he slides his fingers from your cunt, drawing a high whine from your lips. minghao clicks his tongue at you, and then he’s pushing three fingers in. you shudder, cunt clenching so tight around his digits that he can’t move. 

“easy, baby,” he mumbles, his free hand going to your leg. minghao pulls your leg over his shoulder, nose pressing against your thigh. he can feel your skin against his eyelash as his breathes you in here, too. “gotta be easy and good for me.”

you let out a long breath, eyes sliding shut. your cunt loosens around his fingers, and as a reward minghao moves down further between your legs. he presses his face to your cunt, the smell of your pussy surrounding him. 

he knows he should hurry. he knows his band will be back soon. but that doesn’t stop minghao from running his tongue along your clit, doesn’t stop him from tasting this part of you. he missed it so much – missed your cunt, how it smelled and felt and tasted. 

your thighs clench around his head, but he continues. minghao scissors his fingers in you, not focused on stretching you but instead making you feel good. he laps at your lit in broad strokes, and then he’s sucking at your little bean, a loud squeal escaping your lips. 

“quiet!” he hisses, though he feels his lips twitching up at the corner. he does it again and again between licks of his tongue, feeling your body shake beneath his and little sounds of ecstasy escape your lips. 

“hao!” you whine out, fingers digging slightly into his scalp. “gotta – gotta hurry, josh –”

you couldn’t manage a full sentence, high moans and squeals escaping your mouth and interrupting your words. but minghao understood all the same, and he was pressing one last kiss to your pussy before he withdrew. 

he wiped his hand off on the sheets, and then he was pushing his pants and boxers down to his knees. he fisted his shirt with one hand, raising it and keep it away from your soaking cunt as he moved close. 

you plant your feet on the bed, tilting your hips up for him. you’re so good, he thinks. you’re perfect. and you’re his. 

minghao pressed the head of his cock against your cunt, watching as your entire body seemed to freeze in anticipation. you were so ready for him, so eager. you were biting down at your lip, eyes large and watching, and minghao couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t feeling the same way. 

he crowded down over you, releasing his shirt and moving his hand to cup your face. minghao rolled his tongue into your mouth, the noises of your wet mouths meeting making his cock throb with anger.

he fucked into your cunt, a deep groan escaping you. your pussy was tight, despite preparation, but warm and wet and minghao slowly slid deeper and deeper. your body took his cock easily, as it always had, and he knew that the two of you were meant for each other. 

“hao,” you moan out, lashes fluttering. you speak against his mouth, breath hot. “feels good, hao. want it. missed you so much, hao.”

“i know, baby,” he mumbles, hand sinking into your hair. he slides until his cock is buried as far as it can go within you, your pussy clamping down on his cock. he wanted to move, wanted to immediately begin fucking you. instead he held back, hand twisting in your hair. “i missed you too.”

you bite at your lip, and then you’re tightening your legs around his waist. minghao takes this as permission, and he begins drawing his hips back. the slide of his dick against your walls feels so good, feels perfect, all slick warmth that makes his toes curl and eyes flutter. 

he can’t believe he left you. he can’t believe he ended this. he’s so fucking stupid – 

minghao fucks back into your cunt, and it feels like coming home. he begins setting a slow, deep rhythm that makes you arch up around him, mouth wide and eyes pinched shut. he just looks at you, takes in the shape of your mouth and your lashes, just looks and adores you. 

his hand moves from your hair to your ear, and he traces the shell of your ear as he grinds into you. he follows the curve, adoring. he thumbs at your earlobe, just touching you, when he touches that pearl earring. 

and minghao thinks back. he thinks back to how you had tucked your hair behind your ear for soonyoung, how you had acted all cute and coy for him. how you had taunted minghao. 

his hips slow to a stop, and you whine for him. for a moment he just focuses on your earrings, staring. 

“you’re such a bad girl,” he growls out, and then he’s slamming back into your pussy, the sound of skin hitting skin loud. you cry out, startled, and then he’s setting a punishing, brutal pace. 

“you’re so bad,” he hisses, hand moving down to your throat. he doesn’t choke you, just places his hand against your throat. “teasing me like that with soonyoung. so fucking bad. wanted me to get jealous, didn’t you?”

you whimper, eyes rolling back as he fucks you. each thrust into your cunt is wet and loud, and he fucks you knowing that you’ll feel the ache hours later. 

“wanted me jealous of kwon soonyoung,” minghao murmurs, and he’s ducking his head to bite at your neck. you cry out, cunt tightening around his dick. he bites and licks and sucks, marking your neck as his. 

because you are his. he was a fool to think otherwise. you’re his and he’s yours, and he’ll show kwon soonyoung. 

minghao pulls out – you whine – and he flips you around. minghao moves to his knees, pulling you up and back so you’re on all fours. he enters you with a rough thrust, and then he’s resuming his hard pace, chasing out each sting of skin slapping skin, seeking that pain-pleasure. 

“you’re mine,” he says, hands tight around your hips. he watches your ass jiggle with each thrust, some animalistic urge to take coming over him. “you’re mine, angel. fucking mine and no one else’s. got it?”

you nod against your pillows, arching your back and pushing back to him. you fuck back onto him, meeting each thrust, and minghao can’t help but feel satisfied. 

as if you’d ever do this for kwon soonyoung. as if you’d ever let him fuck you like this, as if you’d ever give yourself over to kwon soonyoung as eagerly as you do minghao.

“you gotta cum,” minghao commands, slapping at your ass. you cry out, fingers twisting in the sheets. “gotta cum around my cock, baby. milk me.”

he reaches down, grabbing his shirt and pushing it up out of the way. his fingers slip into your cunt, fluttering around where the two of you are connected to grind down on the gummy area surrounding your clit. you whine, and only a couple of thrusts later you’re tightening around his dick. 

“that’s it,” minghao says, biting down on his lip. “gush around my dick, angel. come on, cum for me.”

your moans rise in pitch as you cum, and he fucks you through it. he fucks into your pussy as it quivers, fluttering around his dick. once you’re finished, whining from oversensitivity, minghao pulls out of your pussy – your warm, tight, delightful pussy – and fucks into his hand until he’s shooting out warm stripes of cum, painting your back white. he feels fuckin amazing, adrenaline and lust and something he can’t quite name rushing through his veins. 

he pants, watching as his cum taints your skin. you’re so beautiful like this, stained with him. he says as much, rubbing his hand over your ass and back. 

a car honks from the street. minghao curses, and then he’s flinging himself off of the bed. he grabs his bomber jacket, hesitates, and then quickly wipes himself down. 

“i’ll wash it,” you promise, and he ducks down to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your mouth. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, moving to press a kiss to your temple. “such a good girl for me.”

he darts for the bathroom after leaving your bedroom, flicking on the goofy lightswitch. he looks in the mirror. he looks – well, he looks like he just spent the last half hour fucking someone. 

but not just anyone, he thinks, grabbing his shirt and flapping it to try and get some fresh air against his skin. he spent the last half hour fucking you. 

vernon looks at him weirdly as he hands minghao a few slices of pizza. “been busy?”

minghao shrugs, pressing his hair back from his face. “went jogging a bit to try and clear my mind of all it’s shit. need to bring everything to practice.”

vernon looks like he doesn’t believe minghao, but vernon, also, doesn’t care. so minghao watches as his friend grabs a soda from the fridge. “cool,” is all he says, and then vernon begins slurping at his drink. 

soonyoung enters the room with his own pizza, setting it on the counter. “i made sure to get some you like,” he says to minghao. 

minghao feels, slightly, like he should feel guilty towards soonyoung. soonyoung, after all, has a crush on you. and minghao just fucked soonyoung’s crush. 

then again, minghao thinks, it’s soonyoung’s fault for getting a crush on you when you spend every other day getting your brains fucked out by minghao. 

joshua enters his house with a large grin, holding a plastic cup in one hand. “you’ll never fucking guess who called.”

“president clinton,” soonyoung says, raising a slice of pepperoni pizza to his mouth. “wait. better yet. monica lewinsky.”

“no,” josh says, “cut it out. i’m talking about the fucking black rose club! they called! and they want us for next thursday!”

“well,” minghao says, a grin taking over his face. “it isn’t a friday or saturday performance, so the club won’t be too busy.”

“but it gets our name out there,” josh agreed, clapping vernon on the back. he looks so sincerely happy, lip ring glinting in the artificial light of the kitchen. “we’re getting on the map.”

minghao raises vernon’s soda in salute towards josh before drinking it and handing it back to vernon. “things are looking up,” minghao says.

minghao isn’t stupid. he knows they’ll need to work their asses off for the next week in preparation of playing at the club. he knows this is only one step on the mountain of success, only one step towards their goal line. he knows he’ll need to talk to you, sincerely. he knows he’ll need to apologize, knows he needs to explain everything. 

yes; minghao isn’t stupid. 

but, he thinks, watching as you come down the stairs, fresh from a shower, he is awfully lucky. 

[ylangelegy]

haven't we met? ♾️ minghao x reader.

“wherever you are in the world, i swear i'll find you again.” # day one of (the)8 days of minghao.

☆ includes: mentions of death/calamities. soulmates, body swapping, time travel, delayed ripple effect, references to chinese mythology, light angst. this is inspired by & heavily references makoto shinkai's film kimi no nawa/your name, but it's not required to have seen the film to understand the plot. word count: 9,000+

It’s a Wednesday when Minghao wakes up in a room that isn’t his.

He doesn’t immediately register it. His senses come to him slowly; the sun is warm on his face, supposedly streaking through the windows. 

But then an alarm blares, and it’s an alarm that’s decisively not his. It’s loud and oppressive. The complete opposite of the gentle tinkling of bells that he sets for his mornings. Minghao peels his eyes open before blinking blearily up at a ceiling that’s in a shade of dark green. 

Odd. His ceiling is supposed to be beige. 

Minghao finally manages to sit up, to glance around. The room he’s in is not his. It’s much more disorganized and the furniture’s a bit more old-fashioned. He lets out a slight exhale. 

A dream, he thinks wearily. I’m dreaming. 

Minghao can’t help but think that it’s a particularly realistic dream as he unsteadily gets to feet. As he pulls aside the sheets that had covered him, he notices snatches of a body that isn’t his, either. Lithe legs, painted toenails. 

I’m dreaming I’m someone else, he thinks. It happened, didn’t it? One might sometimes dream from the perspective of a stranger, a friend. 

Minghao’s attention is drawn to a half-full water carafe on the bedside table. Without much thought, he reaches for it— before smashing it onto the floor. Free will, baby. 

Except—

He feels it. The wetness lapping up at his feet. The shards of broken glass flying in all directions. Something closes up in his throat. Did he usually feel things in his dreams? Had he eaten something weird, drank something the night before, to have him dreaming like this? 

The door to the room swings open. 

A silver-haired woman stands in front of him, now, her face pinched with worry. She says a name— a name that isn’t Minghao’s— and asks, panicked, “What happened?” 

Minghao doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He just stares and stares as this wrinkled woman chides him in a motherly way until he realizes, ah. This must be his mother. Not his mother, but his dream self’s mother. 

He can work with that. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. His voice is different. Not his, not his. He tries again— softer, this time— like it might change things. Like he might be able to coax his old voice to break through whatever sleepy haze he’s in. “I’m sorry. I knocked it over by accident.” 

“You’re so clumsy,” his ‘mother’ chides, but she’s already getting to her knees to wipe at the puddle of water with her apron. That snaps Minghao into action; he stumbles across the room in search of a towel. 

What a crazy dream, he thinks as he delicately gathers up the shards, as he wipes up the spilled water. I’ve never had a dream like this. 

As his ‘mother’ heads back downstairs, Minghao figures he might as well play the part. 

He follows her down for breakfast. He’s struck by how visceral, how tactile everything feels. The creeks of the old staircase. The smell of seaweed egg drop soup. The crick in Minghao’s neck.

Am I going insane? Minghao briefly wonders as he settles into the dining table, where there’s already a spread of food waiting for him. He notes that it’s a rather small table, made for only two people. It’s a stark contrast to the long tables he usually shares with twelve other boys, to the family tables he reserves with his own family.

“Why are you being so quiet?” his ‘mother’ asks as she sits across from him. “We’ll just get you a new carafe, kiddo.”

Right. That’s definitely why he was being quiet. Minghao picks up the chopsticks in front of him and goes to try some of the braised potatoes. 

He can even taste it. This was probably the most detailed dream he’s ever had.

“Aren’t I always quiet, though?” Minghao manages to ask in the voice-that-is-not-his. It’s a higher pitched voice, one that has a distinct Seoul accent. 

His ‘mother’ lets out a snort of laughter. “Yah, in what universe are you quiet?” she says with a snicker, reaching over to flick Minghao’s forehead. 

He lets out a small sound of protest. 

“That’s more like it,” his ‘mother’ notes. “Now, eat up. You’ll be late for work.”    

Work. Something like unease begins to pool at the pit of his stomach at the thought of it. Not because he hates his job, no. Minghao loved being a dancer, an idol, an artist. But— he had a feeling that wasn’t the job he should be expecting this time around.

“I— I’m not really feeling well,” he mumbles, pushing around some seaweed at the bottom of his soup. When his ‘mother’ shoots him a scrutinizing glare, he forces out a cough to sell the act. “I’m not sure if I can go in today.” 

His ‘mother’ goes from looking skeptical to concerned. She sets her own utensils down. “Do you need me to take care of you? I can take off, too—” 

“It’s okay,” Minghao says hastily. “I think I just need to stay in bed.” 

The woman across from him doesn’t look convinced, and so he presses on, “How is work, anyway?” 

It’s a polite question, one meant to wheedle out more information. His ‘mother’ takes the bait, though, and goes on to rant about bad co-workers, about impatient patrons. She’s a grocery store bagger, Minghao gleams. And when she complains about other small things— the weather making it difficult to hang laundry, the lack of delivery shifts— Minghao realizes that his ‘mother’ has an array of other side hustles. 

He listens intently. He nods in all the right places. He thinks he’s doing the right thing, but his ‘mother’ falters mid-sentence to fix him a worried look. 

“You really are so quiet today,” she repeats, reaching over to put the back of her hand against Minghao’s forehead. He feels the touch, feels the warmth of concern wash over his skin, and it makes him shiver. “You really must not be feeling well, huh?” 

Minghao thinks he’s only about to feel so much worse.

He heads back to ‘his’ bedroom, and it’s only then that he catches a glimpse of himself in a full-length mirror. It’s… the face of someone he’s never met before. 

Minghao once heard that the people you see in your dreams are never strangers. They’re all faces you’ve seen at least once or twice, and in Minghao’s line of work— well, he’s seen a lot of faces. He raises a hand to pinch at his cheek, to pat at his hair. 

It all feels so real. He doesn’t dwell on that. 

Instead, he starts to explore. Walking around the cramped bedroom feels both like a museum visit and an intrusion. There’s posters peeling off the wall, shelves groaning under the weight of books, clothes that look a little worse for wear. It’s honestly such a mess that Minghao ends up killing a couple of hours just cleaning.

He lets out a snort of laughter as he does. Even in his dreams, he’s picking up over someone. 

He doesn’t know how long he spends gathering hangers and sweeping the floor, but, at one point, the silence is broken by a high-pitched ringtone. He fumbles for the shabby cellphone on the bedside table. 

It had been password-protected, which is why he couldn’t open it. Now, though, there’s an option to answer the incoming call. 

BOSS MAN 👿, it says, and Minghao nearly cracks a smile. Yeah, he can relate to that, at least. 

When he answers the call, though, any and all humor dissipates at the yelling that assaults Minghao’s ear. “WHERE ARE YOU?” ‘Boss Man’ screams on the other end. “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU ALL DAY! YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE, PUNK—” 

Minghao definitely sees now why the devil emoji was warranted. He has the urge to cut into the other man’s tirade, partly because it’s a dream where there’ll surely be little to no consequences. Something holds him back, though, as he puts some distance between his ear and the phone. 

Once the other man pauses to breathe, Minghao manages to get a word in. “I… wasn’t feeling well,” he says lamely. “Could I maybe work from home or something?” 

“WORK FROM HOME? ARE YOU CRAZY?! WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT—”

At that point, Minghao just hangs up. When ‘Boss Man’ tries to call again, Minghao turns off the cellphone’s ringer and goes back to cleaning. 

He cleans until there’s not a speck of dust in the bedroom. And when that’s done, he goes to work on the grout in the bathroom, the oil stains in the kitchen. He’s not really sure what he’s doing. Occasionally, he’ll stop in the middle of a chore, wondering if it’s finally time for him to be shaken out of this mundane, long-winded dream. 

Night falls. His ‘mother’ texts about taking on an extra shift. She says something about food in the refrigerator, but Minghao can’t be bothered; he’s so exhausted that he blacks out the moment his head hits his pillow.

He doesn’t even have the energy to contemplate the mechanics of falling asleep in what’s supposed to be a dream. 

On Thursday, Minghao wakes up back in his dorm. 

When he hears the familiar chime of his morning alarm, when he opens his eyes and sees beige, he feels a wave of relief. It really had all been a dream. A very realistic one, sure. But a dream all the same. He was awake now, and he was ready to go about his Wednesday schedule— 

Except, when he checks his phone, it says that it’s already Thursday. 

Minghao blinks. How long was he out? Surely one of the boys would’ve dragged him out of bed if he’d been out of commission for twenty-four hours. 

He unlocks his phone to a dozen unread messages. Eyebrows furrowed, he decides to first go with Seungcheol’s texts. 

🍒: myungho  🍒: are you feeling better?  🐸: Hyung, hi. I think I just overslept a bit but I’m feeling ok. 

Despite the early morning, the three dots indicating that Seungcheol is typing pop up. 

🍒: are you sure???  🍒: you had us worried 🐸: Did I really sleep that long?  🍒: i mean, i don’t know how long you slept 🍒: was that the problem? were you hysterical yesterday because of lack of sleep? ㅋㅋㅋ

Suddenly, Minghao’s room feels a lot colder than earlier. Hysterical. That was the word Seungcheol had used. And yesterday— Tuesday? Nothing out of the ordinary had happened to Minghao. It was all the usual; he had practiced, eaten dinner out with Soonyoung, then went home. 

The dream had been the only unusual thing about the day prior. Minghao is jolted when Seungcheol sends another slew of texts. 

🍒: seriously 🍒: i was worried i might have to bring you to the hospital or something 🍒: but you say you’re ok now? 

Minghao can’t help it anymore. He dials Seungcheol’s number and puts the phone to his ear, his heart pounding in his chest all the while. 

Seungcheol answers on the first ring. In lieu of a greeting, Minghao jumps straight into “Was I really— hysterical, yesterday?” 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. When Seungcheol speaks, he still sounds a touch gruff, like he’s only half-awake. “I mean, kind of. What, are you worried about it? Do you need help apologizing to Mingyu?” 

Apologizing to Mingyu? “What— is Mingyu mad at me?” 

“Uh.” There’s some sounds of shuffling on the other end, as if Seungcheol is sitting up. It’s a pretty clear giveaway of his growing concern. “You might have to ask him that. But, Hao— you sure you’re better?”

Minghao swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know where to start without sounding insane.

“I think I’m still feeling a bit off,” Minghao says weakly. “Must be the flu or something.” 

“I can come over.” 

“No, no. I think I just need some rest.” 

Seungcheol lets out a contemplative hum. “Alright,” he says, though he doesn’t sound all too convinced. “I’ll keep the boys off your back for the day. Text me if you need anything, and maybe text Mingyu when you can.” 

“Text Mingyu,” Minghao repeats absentmindedly. “Yeah, got it.” 

The call ends without anything more. Minghao stays seated in his bed for a long moment, just staring at the call log. 

Seungcheol had called him hysterical. Mingyu was upset with him. 

Something was definitely not right. 

Minghao’s suspicion is only confirmed when he goes to check the texts he’d gotten from other members.

🐯: need to call u about choreo but preferably u dont yell at me this time 😒 let me know when’s a good time  🐱: Are u ok? Or did u actually ditch me for our dinner (bec if then, wtf)  🦖: i’ve been in the practice room for an hour now!!!!!! Where are you!!!

If Minghao wasn’t already sitting down, he might’ve collapsed. 

He yelled at Soonyoung. He ditched Jun and Chan. 

He had no memory of any of that. 

But he remembers the shattered carafe, the seaweed soup, the shrill shrieks of ‘Boss Man’ in his ear. 

For a moment, he’s convinced he’s just in another version of the same dream— except, this time, it looks a lot more like a nightmare. As Minghao finally musters up the energy to get to his feet, he notices something at the foot of his bed. 

He unfurls the folded piece of paper. The handwriting isn’t anything he’s seen before. His eyes inadvertently skip to the very bottom, and his heart nearly stops in his damn chest. Minghao drops the paper like it had physically burnt him. 

“What the fuck,” he mumbles to himself as he scrambles to his feet, as he puts distance between himself and the now-discarded paper. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.” 

At the very end of the handwritten letter had been a name. 

The name that had been uttered by his dreamself’s mother. The name that ‘Boss Man’ had shrieked. A name he hadn’t heard before yesterday, before his dream— 

Minghao is finding it increasingly hard to believe that it had been a dream in the first place. Hell, he doesn’t even know what ‘yesterday’ is anymore. 

He paces his room. He does breathing exercises. He brews half a pot of tea. 

None of it helps. Hours later— with all his texts still unanswered and his tea depleted— Minghao stumbles back to the letter. 

I don’t know who you are, it starts. But I can tell you who I am. 

I’m from Umyeon-deong in Seocho. I live with my mother; my father hasn’t been in the picture for a long time. I work as an editorial assistant for a local newspaper. (It’s not exactly what I want to be doing, although that’s a story for another day.) 

For a big part of today, I thought I was dreaming. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up back in my bedroom, but the hours have ticked by and I’m still here. Your friends keep contacting you. It’s driving me insane. I accidentally yelled at two of them because they wouldn’t stop calling. The Mingyu one got really upset about it, I think. Sorry. 

I’m writing this because I don’t know what else to do. If this is nothing but a dream, then this shouldn’t matter. But in the 0.000000001% chance that something truly insane has happened to me and you? Well, at least now you know. 

I’m going to try and go to sleep now, although I must admit: You have some pretty nice stuff. I ate some of your tea and snacks (sorry, again). This is crazy. None of this makes sense. 

The letter unceremoniously ends there. Minghao’s eyes flick again to the signoff, to the name at the very bottom. 

Your name. 

His head is reeling. He feels like he’s going to be sick. 

This is no coincidence, no practical joke. It’s— as you’ve said— truly something insane happening. 

Minghao is struck with the realization that it just might happen again, and this time, he actually does get sick. He ends up hurling into a trash can. 

After brushing his teeth, chugging some water, and running through one too many of the chips in his pantry, Minghao gets back to the letter. 

It’s still there, in his hands. The stationary that was locked away in his drawer, bearing handwriting that is not his. 

None of the boys would pull off a prank as elaborate as this. Minghao is fairly certain he would’ve noticed if any of them snuck in, too. So, now, the only logical explanation was the one that was left. 

And Minghao really didn’t like that explanation. 

For what feels like forever, he contemplates what to do. He considers calling up Seungcheol again. He debates the merits of apologizing to Mingyu and Soonyoung; he decides against it when he realizes he wouldn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. He knows what to say to Jun and Chan at least, but that doesn’t make it any easier. How would Minghao even begin to justify himself? Hey, sorry for ditching you; I think I body swapped with a complete stranger. Let’s grab dinner tonight instead? 

There’s a headache blossoming behind Minghao’s eyes at the mere thought of putting the words out into existence. 

In the end, he does what he deems to be the easiest thing to do. He picks up a pen and writes on the other side of your letter. 

Hello, he begins. I’m The8 Myungho Minghao. 

I’m an idol who’s part of a group called SEVENTEEN. They’re the friends who keep contacting me. Mingyu is a fellow member and good friend of mine. I’ll talk to him. 

My family is in a different country. 

As Minghao goes on to write the next parts, he feels a bit foolish. He doesn’t really know what to say, though he feels like he should say something. You had given him something to work with, after all. Slivers of context. He should be able to do the same for you. 

I met your mother. She’s nice. 

I talked to your boss. He wasn’t happy. He yelled at you (me?), and I may or may not have put down the phone. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what your work was so I ended up not going at all. 

I hope you liked the tea. Feel free to have all the snacks you want. 

And you’re right. This is crazy. 

If I’m lucky, you’ll never need this letter. 

Minghao wakes up on Friday to the realization that he is decidedly unlucky.

The loud alarm is back, and the ceiling is dark green again, and Minghao once again leans over to throw up. Luckily, there’s a bedside garbage bin that comes to the rescue. 

There’s no sun this time. It’s fairly gloomy outside, the overcast skies peeking through the windows. 

Minghao immediately notices that there’s a folded piece of paper on the pillow next to him. He unfurls it so fast that he almost tears it in half. 

This is a precaution, you start. Maybe, come tomorrow, I can just chuck this out and chalk it all up to a one-off freak incident. 

The thought of this phenomenon not being a one-off nearly has bile rising up in Minghao’s throat all over again, but he forces himself to read the rest of your words. 

First off, I guess I should thank you. My room has never been this clean in my life! And you should have seen the look on my mother’s face when she saw that ‘I’ cleaned the entire apartment. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was possessed, for the lack of better term, by someone who is a much better person than me. 

That almost makes Minghao smile. Almost, because the next part sends a pang of guilt through him. 

Secondly, though, you almost cost me my job. I can’t believe you hung up on my boss, Donghyuk. I had to do some serious damage control. I managed to get today off, just in case. 

Minghao is struck by your foresight and, adversely, his absolute lack of it. The most he had to do was appease a sulky Mingyu and message back the rest of the boys. His brain races to figure out if he has any schedules for— Friday, was it? A practice, maybe. Or a recording. 

Either way, he’s screwed. You’re screwed. 

Minghao his face in one hand and quietly prays that you know how to dance. 

He skims over the rest of your letter. 

I don’t know why this is a thing. I don’t know if it is meant to be a thing. I’m going to try and look for some answers, whether or not I wake up as you/myself. 

Wish me luck. 

A small part of Minghao feels a tug at the thought of both of you ending your letters with the concept of luck. That feeling is quickly replaced by something akin to dread, because he’s fairly convinced that this is no longer a dream. 

Minghao has woken up in a body that isn’t his. Minghao has woken up in your body— the body of a person he’s sure he’s never met.

He has to live a day in your life with nothing to go by but the notes you’ve left and a handful of context clues. 

For a moment, Minghao contemplates just going back to sleep. Maybe if the both of you just slept right now, the switch would trigger. Maybe he could just spend the whole day in bed until you have to swap again.

The latter seems like the best idea until knuckles rap against the bedroom door. 

Your mother pops her head through the crack in the door. “I’m going to leave early today. The rain isn’t looking so good,” she says with a slight grimace. 

Minghao glances out the window. It’s all he can do, really, to keep himself from not going insane then and there. 

“Take care,” he says. 

He’s suddenly acutely aware of your voice— the cadence and timbre of it. He knows what you sound like, how you write, and he wonders how the two might combine. What might be the right thing to say in this situation. 

Because your mother has that look again, that openly dubious expression. 

“Are you alright?” she asks cautiously, not quite stepping into the bedroom just yet. 

A flash of panic rises up in Minghao. What would you say? What would you do? 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His tone’s just a little haughty now. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Minghao nearly winces, but he persists. “Go on, don’t get caught in the rain.” 

Your mother lets out a huff of a laugh, mumbling something like ‘ungrateful kid’ as she retreats. Despite that, it seems to work; she takes her leave without another protest. Minghao lets out a shaky breath.  

His— your stomach, really— lets out a low grumble. A part of him wonders if you’ve been just on edge as he’s been. Unable to eat properly, losing sleep over this whole thing. 

Regardless, the least he can do is take care of you. He pads over to the kitchen and rummages through the refrigerator for some leftovers. All the while, he’s thinking of what he has in his own kitchen. 

Will you be hungry? You did say you liked his snacks. Would that be enough? 

The questions rattling in his head turn into considerably more stressful ones. 

Is this going to happen forever? Will he have to spend the rest of his life swapping bodies with you on a day-to-day basis?

He thinks of the group, thinks of your mother. Thinks of his demanding job and your terrible boss. 

Minghao nearly panics again. He manages to keep it together enough to make a sandwich and sip some coffee. 

He tries to meditate, even, but it’s like your body knows that it’s not a practice that you frequent. Your hands twitch in the stillness; your heart only slams harder instead of calming. You need to catch a goddamn break, Minghao thinks as he grits his teeth and tries to relax. 

Something good comes out of his attempt, at least. It comes as an epiphany of some sorts— how he suddenly remembers a portion of your letter. 

I’m going to try and look for some answers, you had written. 

He might as well do the same. 

Once he’s changed into outerwear that’s slightly more acceptable for the rainy weather, he spends a good amount of time searching for your wallet. When he goes to check it, he inadvertently lets out a grumbled “damn.”

Your wallet has nothing but a couple of loose bills. 

Minghao can’t blame you, not really, but you’re certainly giving him very little to work with. A part of him even feels kind of bad for you. Not only did you have a demon for a boss; you were also severely underpaid. He makes a mental note to bring that up in his next letter to you. 

He can’t go far with the lack of funds, though that’s not the only thing hindering his quest for answers. It’s pouring outside, the rain coming in heavy droplets. 

Minghao braves it with a raincoat and an umbrella, hoping against hope to find something. Anything. 

As luck would have it, your neighborhood has a local library. 

When he steps in, the librarian doesn’t pay him much heed. Minghao is momentarily amused by the thought. Did you not come here often? 

It’s a quaint place with a scarce collection. A lot of the novels are on the older end— published nearly a decade ago— but they remain in pristine condition. Minghao skips over the best-sellers and the manga serieses, instead opting to sift through the psychology textbooks. 

He’s not surprised when he doesn’t find anything of use there, when he spends nearly four hours reading and reading to no avail. The lack of non-fiction about a body swapping phenomenon is to be expected. This wasn’t something that just happened, after all. 

And yet it’s happening to me, Minghao thinks with frustration as he grabs at his sixth book of the afternoon. The unexpected force knocks some of the surrounding books onto the floor. 

The librarian gives him a vicious side eye. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Minghao mumbles as he immediately gets to his knees. 

His hands close around one of the books he knocked over. It’s a heavy hardbound with a gorgeous deep red cover and metallic gold lettering. There’s a dragon featured on the front and the familiar iconography of it nearly bowls Minghao over. 

While still crouched down on the floor, Minghao flips through the pages. The images that go flashing by are not strangers to him, but there’s one in particular that he’s looking for. 

He finds it on the thirtieth page. Almost out of instinct, his fingers trace over the characters. 

月老. Yue Lao. 

Suddenly, Minghao is a child again, listening to his mother’s stories. He had been young and wide-eyed, sprawled on her lap as she talked soothingly about the god who presented himself as an old man under the moon.  

The god of marriage and love. He’s the reason why your bàba and I met, his mother would say amusedly. Yue Lao made it possible. 

How? His younger self had demanded. How did he make sure? 

His mother had laughed, then. Had stroked Minghao’s hair out of his face as she told him about the myth. The magical cord may stretch or tangle, but it will never break. 

And, oh, how Minghao had prayed back then. He prayed to Yue Lao the hardest— his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clasped to his chest. 

I hope I find love. 

It doesn’t matter when, or where, or how. 

Qǐng, Yue Lao. Please, please, please. 

“Are you going to check that out or what?” 

Minghao is dragged out of his memories at the sound of the librarian’s sharp tone. “I—” 

The words stick in his throat. Eventually, he manages a meek, “I’ll put it back.”

It’s still pouring as he leaves the library and makes the short walk back to your apartment. The rainwater pooling in the gutters has muck and grime sticking to the bottom of his— technically your— rain boots. Another thing to apologize for, Minghao thinks wryly. 

He seeks temporary shelter underneath the corner store near your apartment block. The vendor looks up expectantly. 

“The usual?” the woman croaks, and it takes a moment for Minghao to register that he’s being addressed.  

“Not today,” he responds with a tight smile. 

The vendor lets out a bark of laughter. “When have you ever said ‘no’ to me?” she says with a tut of disapproval. Before Minghao can protest, the stranger is already shuffling over to her cooking station. 

Minghao watches in silence when he realizes what’s being made. Some fruit is speared onto a bamboo skewer, then dipped into a simmering syrup. It emerges coated like a clear gemstone before it’s shoved into a bowl of ice. 

Tanghulu, Minghao thinks dazedly as he accepts the snack. “Thank you,” he says softly.

The vendor smiles. She’s already missing a couple of teeth. 

Minghao takes a tentative bite. Tanghulu was a familiar enough delicacy, but the fruit he'd been given— your ‘usual’— is something he hasn't seen in quite some time. 

The date-plum persimmon is soft and glutinous, wrapped in a thin layer of crisp sweetness. Minghao can't remember the last time he had black jujube this way. 

“You’re still the only one who likes that stuff.” There’s an edge of fondness to the vendor’s tone. A clear indicator that you have some sort of camaraderie with her, something that Minghao isn’t entirely privy to. “Do you know how hard it is to find stock of that darn fruit?” 

It seems like a rhetorical question, like something that you’d probably take in stride. But Minghao can’t bring himself to joke. His free hand is already fishing for your wallet, where he’s prepared to blow the last of your money on this dessert. 

The vendor shakes her head. “Not today,” she chirps, echoing Minghao’s words from earlier. Her gaze is fixed over his shoulder, where the downpour is relentless. 

Minghao is not quite sure what the norm is supposed to be. Do the two of you talk? Do you leave right after you’ve made your purchase? 

He doesn’t want to be rude, so he mumbles his gratitude and decides to stick around for a moment. The vendor thankfully chooses not to make conversation. 

Minghao spends a long time just standing there, making slow work of the sticky date-plum. He watches the rain that never lets up. He watches the lights of your apartment building flicker on as night falls. He watches, and he tries to commit it to memory as he finishes off his tanghulu. 

For what it’s worth, he’s glad to ‘share’ this with you— something sweet to get the both of you by. 

Come Saturday, Minghao wakes up with more questions than answers.

Your letter is within reach, resting atop his bedside table. He goes to read it despite the fact that he’s barely lucid. 

It’s shorter this time. If he strained, he could almost hear the words in your voice. A distant echo. 

I can’t believe you’re actually an idol. Have you met BIGBANG? 

That draws a surprised laugh out of him. It’s been years since he last heard of his industry seniors. The thought of you being a second gen fan is a little endearing to him. 

Anyway, I told everyone who contacted you that you were really sick. Like, throwing up levels of sick. ‘Coups-hyung’ said he would send a manager, but I assured him that you already had one on the way. You might want to corroborate that lie. 

I know I said I would look for answers, but I couldn’t really go far. I was scared of getting lost. And, man, your neighborhood is overwhelming. I’ve lived in Seoul my whole life and I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the city. 

I ended up spending most of my day just reading your books. Good taste. 

The compliment puts the smallest grin on his face.   

I promise to do better research when I’m back in my own body. ‘Till then. 

As curt as your letter is, it gives him an idea he probably wouldn’t have had otherwise. Better research. Back in his own body.

He fishes for your first letter, which he had kept tucked in his drawer. It’s still there, which means the past couple of days have not been a bout of psychosis. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or horrified. 

Minghao focuses instead on scanning your introduction, where you had mentioned your neighborhood. Umyeon-deong. 

While he’s in the back of the cab, Minghao texts back his members. He’s vague, still, but it’s not anything particularly new. Feeling a little better. Getting a check-up, just in case. Stop worrying. I’ll let you know how it goes. 

The heat is oppressive for July, almost beating down on Minghao’s back as he finally makes it to the district. It’s a full 180 from yesterday’s rain. He regrets the baseball cap and the hoodie, but both are necessary evils. 

He’s not entirely sure where to drop off, so he settles for one of the corners at the mouth of the neighborhood. Once he’s there, he just— begins to walk in a general direction.

Later, he realizes he probably could have pulled up Google Maps. He would have benefited from asking around, would have cut his time in half if he deigned to admit that he was lost. But, at the moment, he’s just taking it all in. 

The apartment complexes. The children’s park. The liquor store. 

Briefly, he wonders if he’ll run into you. Would you recognize him? 

Would he even want you to? 

Minghao is so busy mulling it over that he almost misses it. The streetside food stand advertising fresh tanghulu. It feels like yesterday— well, it was yesterday. His mouth is already watering at the thought of the candied date-plums as he wanders over to the stand. 

A rasping voice addresses him. He looks up from scanning the selection, realizing with a jolt that it’s the same vendor.

But it’s also— not. 

Something is off. 

Something he can’t quite place.

It almost steals the breath out of Minghao. He probably looks dumbstruck, looks stupid with his mouth hanging slightly agape, but the vendor asks again, “What do you want?”

Minghao forces an answer out of his chest. “Do you have— black jujube?”

A myriad of micro expressions flash across the seller’s face. It starts with recognition, but ends with something closer to tightness. She gives a labored grunt in response before going to make the snack. 

When she hands it over to Minghao, there’s a slight quiver in her fingers. She nearly drops it, even, but Minghao catches it just in time. 

“Sorry,” she grouses. “It’s an order that a regular of mine used to have.” 

There’s a low ringing in Minghao’s ears as he says “ah,” as he hands over his payment. The vendor busies herself with cleaning her workstation, and Minghao tries to enjoy the date-plums, but it’s not as good as he remembers it. 

Was it perhaps a difference in taste buds? 

No, he thinks. It’s the lump in his throat. It’s the seller’s words nagging at the back of his mind. 

An order that a regular of mine used to have. Used to. 

He saw her yesterday. You were supposed to have seen her yesterday. 

As he munches on the fruit, he asks almost too casually, “Is it your first time selling in this area?” 

The vendor shoots him a suspicious glare. Minghao knows he’s being a little odd with the line of his small talk so he fields his question, tries to make it come out more naturally. “I remember you used to have a spot somewhere else,” he offers. “In front of an apartment building.”

This time, it’s the seller’s turn to mumble “ah.” 

“That’s why you had that order,” she says with a humorless laugh. “You knew them, huh?” 

“Them?” 

The vendor says your name. The ringing in Minghao’s ear gets louder; his fingers, tightening around the skewer of his tanghulu. It’s the first time he’s hearing your name in his own body and it sends a shiver down his spine. 

The question is even harder to answer. Does he know you? Was he allowed to say that?—

No. No, wait. The vendor had said knew. 

The ringing reaches an almost feverish pitch. It’s a miracle that Minghao hears anything else, that he picks up the murmured words that the seller says next.  

“It’s a real shame,” she says with a voice so soft, so solemn, so small. “It’s been nine years, hasn’t it?” 

Nine years.

Nine years. 

Nine years. 

Since what? Since you? 

A lot of things haven’t made sense to Minghao in the past couple of days, but this— this is the one that baffles him the most. He saw you— he was you— yesterday. 

When Minghao finally finds his voice, it’s to ask for a favor. 

The vendor complies, albeit skeptically. She hangs a ‘be right back’ sign over her stall. It’s a short walk, not more than seven minutes. 

If Minghao’s ears had been ringing earlier, now, it’s just dead silence. A dreadful sort of quiet as he stares at the ruins of the apartment building he was staring at just the day before. 

The seller is watching his face carefully. “You didn’t know?” she prompts gently. 

Minghao realizes he has to come up with something. “We were friends. Me and—” He chokes around your name. When he finally says it out loud for the first time, he feels guilty. It feels so wrong to be saying it in this context. To have it be part of a lie. “But then—” 

He trails off. The vendor supplies, “You lost touch?” 

Sure. Minghao gives a jerky nod in response. That’s one way to put it. 

He’s not even looking for an explanation, but the seller gives him one. “The typhoon was so bad that it triggered landslides,” she says gruffly. She nods towards the direction of the mountain towering over the neighborhood. “I think the death toll was around eighteen people.” 

Minghao resists the urge to scream. If he were a lesser man, he might have fainted. Instead, he quietly says, “Nine years ago.” 

“Nine years ago,” the vendor confirms. She pauses before adding, her voice just a little sadder, “A tragedy.” 

“Tragedy,” Minghao repeats. That doesn’t even begin to cover it, he thinks. 

Neither of them say anything for a long time. He can feel the pity rolling off the seller in waves; still, he can’t bring himself to turn away. He stares, and he stares, and he stares at the rubble, at the derelict building. At the mere echo of what had been so loud and alive to him just yesterday.

After what feels like forever, he asks another question. “Is— is the library still around?” 

The vendor leads the way. At the door of the library, she attempts to give Minghao a reassuring smile. It’s all just gums, now. No teeth. There’s an endless refrain of nine years, nine years, nine years screeching through Minghao’s head as the seller bids him goodbye with “I’m sorry you lost your friend.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” he responds with a solemnity that doesn’t need to be feigned. 

The librarian isn’t the same one. 

This one has a calmer demeanor, a more restrained smile. Somehow, that only makes Minghao feel much worse. He knows what he’s looking for this time; he goes straight to the neighborhood records and scrolls all the way back to nine years ago. 2015. 

It’s a lot of information to digest all at once. There’s the newspaper clippings about the heavy rainfall. The flash floods, the landslides. Class action lawsuits. Landmine threats. Government incompetence. 

Minghao feels like he’s drowning in news, but it’s still not what he’s looking for. 

He finds it in a directory. There’s two people with the same last name and Minghao nearly loses it then and there, at the thought of your mother, too— 

He focuses on you for now. His quivering finger traces the cell that contains your name, your date of birth. 1997. The same year as him. A couple of months younger, though. 

Nine years ago, Minghao had been 18. Just about to debut. 

Nine years ago, you had been an editorial assistant. Not exactly what I want to be doing, you had written in your first letter to him. There was no way for you to know that you would never have the chance to be anything more.  

Minghao’s eyes fall on the date of death. 

Except— 

It’s not nine years ago yesterday, not nine years ago today. It’s tomorrow. 

In that very moment, he understands what he’s meant to do. 

When Minghao wakes up in your body on Sunday, he knows he has only one chance. 

He had read up all about it the ‘day’ prior but the details were vague. None of the news reports mentioned when exactly the landslide would happen. The most he gleamed was that it would be due to an unstable slope from the nearby Mount Umyeon. 

A wall of mud three storeys high hit the building, one article had said. It’s the only information that Minghao has to go by as he drags himself out of bed, ignoring the blare of your obnoxious alarm. 

He goes straight for your mother’s room. She’s already awake, standing by the window. 

Outside, the storm rages on. Your mother turns to face Minghao. “It’s not looking good out there,” she says disapprovingly. “The news said it’s the heaviest rainfall in nearly a century.” 

Back in his body, Minghao had contemplated how he would go about this. He thought he might try to coax your mother, might be logical and rational in urging her to evacuate. 

In that very moment, though, he instead finds himself blurting out, “We’re going to die.” 

A beat. Your mother looks unfazed. 

“You’re always so dramatic.” 

The panic simmers in the pit of Minghao’s stomach. “We’re going to die,” he repeats, his tone on the shriller end now. 

It wasn’t like him to give in to hysteria; he was you, though, and your mother seemed nonchalant enough about it. He’s not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse. “It’s just a little bit of rain,” your mother says dismissively as she squeezes past Minghao and heads towards the kitchen. 

Minghao is on her heels, his hands wringing together. “We can’t stay here,” he pleads. “We have to leave.” 

Your mother shoots Minghao— you— an exasperated look. “Where are we going to go in this weather?” 

“No. No, no. We have to go somewhere safe.” 

“We’re safe here—” 

“We’re not—”

It’s almost like a crack of thunder, the way your mother says your name. The sound shuts Minghao up immediately. It’s a familiar warning, an intonation that all mothers seem to wield over their children.

“What’s going on with you, really?” your mother questions, her hands at her hips. She’s eyeing Minghao with mild annoyance but he sees it for what it is. Concern. “You’ve been so odd these past few days. Is there something you’re not telling me?” 

And how is Minghao supposed to answer that? 

I’m not actually your child. I’ve swapped bodies with a man who lives nine years in the future. Our survival hinges on whether or not you’ll hear me out. 

When Minghao stays silent for a little too long, your mother shakes her head. “Get it together,” she says sternly. 

Maybe it’s that. Maybe that’s what finally gets Minghao to say—

“Please.” 

Your mother pauses in the middle of rifling through the refrigerator. For a long, terrible moment, the only sound is the rain. 

Minghao’s hands are shaking at his side. “Please,” he repeats. He knows he sounds more like himself than you. He knows he’s being out of character, being obvious. 

But he needs your mother to understand. She’s looking at him now like he’s a stranger. 

Like you’re a stranger. And you are— at least in that moment. 

The words tumble out of Minghao before he can contain them. “I want to live.”

He doesn’t know where it’s all coming from, this rush of emotion. Your voice wavers; he pushes on. “I want to live,” he gasps out. “I want to move us to an apartment that’s not next to a damn mountain. I want to not work in this damn job. I want to live until I’m your age, until I’m even older than that, dammit—” 

Your mother crosses the room, the refrigerator long forgotten. When she raises a hand to Minghao’s face, he doesn’t even realize that some tears had escaped. 

These are all things he wants for you, he realizes.

He wants you to have a good job. He wants you and your mother to be out of harm’s way. He wants you to live a long, full life. 

“Please,” Minghao says a third time, his voice cracking around the word.

There’s a softness to your mother’s gaze; this time, her worry is undeniable. She holds Minghao’s face— no, he thinks. She’s holding your face. Her child’s face. Her child, who’s crying, who’s begging. 

That’s likely the reason why she acquiesces. “Alright,” she exhales, using her thumb to wipe away some of Minghao’s tears. “We’ll leave. We’ll go.”

That’s only half the battle, though. 

Minghao mutters something below his breath. Your mother raises her eyebrows in a silent question, and so he clears his throat before speaking louder. 

“We have to evacuate the entire building,” he mumbles. 

It takes time to convince your mother, which stresses Minghao out beyond belief. Time isn’t a luxury that he has. Not when he has no idea when the landslide will hit. Not when the rain is only worsening, making it less likely to persuade people to leave the comfort of their homes.

By some grace, he manages to get your mother on board. Sure, he had to spew odd specifics and statistics about the dangers of landslides, but it works. The two go door to door. 

They’re met with initial resistance. Minghao doesn’t care. 

He badgers the elderly. He negotiates with the children. He almost gets to his knees when a family with a baby refuses to budge. 

The entire apartment complex is bewildered. 

But when somebody is batting so hard for safety, when somebody is so desperate in what seems to be just a little more than paranoia— you listen. 

The landslide hits just as Minghao is helping the last resident out of the building. 

He’s never felt anything quite like it. He’s experienced earthquakes and their aftershocks. He’s been in stadiums that have shook with the sheer amount of people, the pulse of their music. 

This one starts with a rumble. Low and deep, like it’s coming from the very ground. He hears the trees crack, the boulders knock together. And then— 

Your mother is grabbing him by the arm. She’s screaming, screaming, screaming, the sound drowned out by the storm, by the shrieks of all the other evacuated residents, by the mud that suddenly crashes down on the complex in one fell swoop. It’s everything, everywhere, all at once. 

Minghao is soaked from head to toe. Some of the mud flies and sticks to his hair, his clothes. He can almost taste it, too. The earth. The rain. He feels the chill to his very bones.

Despite that, he laughs. Your mother is dragging him, you, away from the calamity, the tragedy, and all that Minghao can do is laugh. 

Because he made sure that no one was left in the building. 

Because he’s alive. 

You’re alive. 

Later, when everyone is gathered in an evacuation center— shivering underneath blankets, talking about how it was all such a close call— Minghao falls asleep at your mother’s side. He feels like a kid again, with his hair being stroked, with soft words being uttered to him. 

He drifts off and dreams. 

Minghao is sure that this is a dream because his surroundings take on the hazy quality of one. 

It’s just a little too bright to be real, the setting bathed in a light that feels almost like a bulb had exploded. Minghao has to put one hand over his eyes— 

It’s his hand, he realizes. He’s dreaming as himself.

His sight adjusts. He’s at a dining table. It’s a two-person dining table. Much smaller than he’s used to.

“It’s you.”

He drops his hand and braces it against the edge of the table, because your voice— he should be used to it, shouldn’t he? He had used it for a bit, formed words like sorry and thank you with a lilting tone. 

When he responds, his own words are imperceptibly soft. 

“It’s me,” he confirms. 

You’re seated across from him. He had caught glimpses of your features in reflections, in photographs, but it’s something entirely new. To be taking you in from an outsider’s perspective. He sees how you would control your body, how you were inclined to react. It makes him dizzy, just how much he had gotten wrong about your mannerisms. 

The first proper words you speak are, “You have some good friends, you know?” 

A corner of Minghao’s lip twitches upward. The thought of the boys constantly checking in on him seems about right. 

“And you have a good mother.” Minghao pauses. He did say he would mention the next part. “Terrible job, though. You should quit.” 

“Easy for you to say, Mr. Idol,” you shoot right back. 

He winces; you laugh. The sound has the edges of his vision growing fuzzy. A sepia of the past, the present, and whatever this moment is, all blurring into one. Minghao doesn’t want to wake up. 

“What happens now?” you ask, your own fingers tap, tap, tapping on the table between you two. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Why—?” 

“— Did this happen in the first place?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ve wondered the same thing.” 

The edges are closing in a little more now. Minghao can feel it— the familiar warmth of his bed at home, the tug of his own time. He’s already asked so much from his mother’s old gods but he lets his eyes flutter close so he can make a final plea. 

Just one more minute. Give me one more minute, please. 

“I think…” he starts slowly. His voice already sounds so distant. “It’s my fault.” 

“Your fault.” Skepticism undercuts your tone, enough to prompt Minghao to open his eyes again. 

He looks down at his hands, the ones that had folded atop the table. “I prayed for you,” he admits quietly. “Every day, back when I was a kid.” 

Confusion drips from your every word. “For me specifically?” 

He laughs. “Okay, maybe not you specifically,” he amends. “But—��� 

It’s getting unbearably bright now, so much that he can only really make out the silhouette of your form. He itches to reach, to touch, just to see if you’re real. He doesn’t want to push it, though. 

Minghao settles with holding up his hand. If you squinted, if you really, really tried, you might see it, too. 

The faint glimmer of a red cord— looped around his thumb, tied to your pinky. 

Every day, back when I was a kid. 

“I prayed for this,” he repeats.

And so, in some way, he supposes you’re right. 

He had prayed for you. 

The chime of bells. 

The beige ceiling. 

Minghao is fairly sure he had dreamt, but it’s the kind of dream you forget the moment you wake up.

He blinks once, then twice. Odd. It felt like a good dream, too. 

There’s a warm, fuzzy feeling blossoming in his chest, though it fades just as quickly as it blooms. 

Minghao never wakes up as you again. 

The universe takes, and takes, and takes. It takes away Minghao’s memory. He’s not entirely sure what happened to him those couple of days. Seungcheol says he went to the hospital. Mingyu laments that they fought. 

Minghao borrows one of Soonyoung’s favorite words. Funk. He had been in a funk, probably. An off couple of days.

He’s back to regular programming so seamlessly that the others are forced to believe him. 

Still—

Minghao goes about the next couple of weeks feeling like something is missing. 

It annoys him to no end. It’s not any of his valuables, he’s sure. He double, triple checked everything. He turns his entire apartment upside down and puts it back together again. He goes for meals with all of his members, hoping to find the answers there. 

Nothing.

He falls into dreamless sleep every night, and wakes up every morning with that empty feeling in his chest.

It’s an unassuming Wednesday evening— one that he spends driving around with Vernon and Wonwoo— when it hits him. 

“Hey,” he says, throwing them a glance through the rearview mirror. “I could go for some dessert.”  

Vernon perks up at that. “Should we head to Myeongdeong?” 

“Sounds good.” 

Vernon throws out directions. Wonwoo queues the music. 

Minghao keeps his eyes on the road ahead.

The night market is an assault on the senses but it’s also a good cover for the three idols. They set out with their matching hoodies and half-face masks, in search of something to fulfill their cravings. 

Vernon goes to get some dragon’s beard candy. 

Wonwoo wanders off to purchase some hotteok. 

Minghao… He isn’t sure, really, which is a bit ironic. He had been the one to make the call, after all. He weaves through the crowds, his hands in his jacket pockets, as he scrutinizes the stalls. 

Kkwabaegi. Bungeoppang. Tanghulu. Dalgona. Bing—

He backs up a bit. 

“Hi,” he greets the seller. “This is a bit weird, but do you have black jujube?” 

The tanghulu vendor lets out a grunt of approval. “I think I’ve got one more stick,” she notes as he ducks to check her stock. 

What a weird craving, Minghao thinks to himself. But it’s the first thing that came to mind. 

A voice at his side addresses the seller by name.

“Got my date-plum persimmon, ajumma?” 

It’s not a voice that Minghao has heard before, and yet—

Frantically, he tries to sort through the hundreds of fansigns and fan meetings he’s had in the past decade. Could it be that? Could that be the reason why the lilt was so damn familiar? 

As he turns to look at the source, he knows in his heart of hearts that it’s not the case.

You’re already turning away, though, grumbling about the lack of the tanghulu that you want. Minghao hadn’t even heard the vendor respond.

There’s a ringing in his ears. 

“Excuse me,” he manages.

You falter in your steps. When you look up at him, he sees the same flash of confusion. One that’s borne out of recognition. 

The ringing has gotten louder. Despite that, he pushes out three words. 

He thinks he’s yelling them; in reality, they’re barely audible over the din of the night market. 

“Haven’t we met?” he breathes. 

For one dreadful, dragging moment, he’s convinced he’ll die if you say no, even though his mind is being terribly uncooperative. He can’t place when, or where, or how he met you. He can’t say if you’re familiar because he knows you or someone like you. 

All he knows is that he can’t, won’t let you walk away.

Your response makes everything in Minghao’s head go quiet. 

“I thought so, too,” you say, and something in his chest thrums. 

It feels a lot like an answered prayer. 

[sweetiesicheng]

the8 - fire escape

word count : 581

happy birthday to cutie minghao ~

-

"seungkwan, open up," you repeat as you knock on your friend's window, "seungkwan, don't text me an emergency text and not have the window open."

"whoever you are! i'm calling the cops!" you suddenly hear from behind the window you're knocking on.

you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "is that not 327?" you loudly ask.

then, the curtains open, revealing a guy who holds his phone in one hand. you can see the emergency phone call screen on.

"this is 306. 327 is on the other side of the building," the guy says to you. he puts his phone down and opens the window. "you didn't realize you're on the wrong side of the building?" he asks.

"it's too dark out. the lamps barely work on this street," you reply to him. "sorry about that. i'll leave," you say and start moving to go back down the fire escape.

the guy watches you for a second before speaking again, "wait." you look at the guy. he fully opens the window and gestures you to come inside. "come through here. it'd be stupid for you to go out and around again," he says to you.

"you don't even know me," you say to him, lifting your foot up from the ladder step below.

"considering i heard you calling for your friend, i highly thought you're trying to steal or hurt me," he says. "just this once."

"thanks," you say to him and walk over to his window. you climb inside to the guy's apartment. you take your shoes off as soon as you hit the ground and hold them with one hand. "nice place," you compliment as you look around the apartment.

"thanks," the guy responds. "uh, front door is right there," he says, pointing out the door to you.

"oh, thank you," you say to him. both of you walk to the front door.

you put your shoes on while the guy unlocks and opens his front door.

"sorry to bother you," you say to him. "have a good one," you say to him.

"yea, you too," the guy replies.

you leave the guy's apartment and start walking down the hallway. you look at the numbers on the doors and signage, checking that you’re going in the right direction.

finally, you make it to your friend's apartment and knock on the door. after a few seconds, the door opens.

"oh, y/n, there you are," seungkwan says. "why'd you come this way? i had the window open for you," he asks, a bit confused since you almost always use the fire escape.

"i'll explain in two seconds. let me grab something from here. i'll pay you back," you say to him and run into his apartment.

"what?"

you hurry into the kitchen and find a small bag of treats in a bag. you tear a piece of paper off of a notepad and write down a quick apology note before taping the note to the bag.

while seungkwan watches you and sits down at the counter, you hurry out of his apartment.

"be right back!"

you hurry down the hallway and make it back to the guy's apartment. you leave the bag of treats on the ground by his door and hurry back to seungkwan's apartment again.

once you're back in seungkwan's apartment, you close the front door. "long story short, i climbed up the wrong fire escape," you explain to seungkwan, "but the guy was kind of cute..."

"you what?!"

[lololololchips]

Hello! I love your smaus sm they really make my day brighter than ever🥹

Can i request a boyfriend texts with minghao please? Thank you sm! Have a great day/night ;)

thank you anonnn!!!!

hope you enjoy 😁

Xu Minghao || boyfriend texts with the8

genre: fake texts, one shot, fluff

warnings: cursing, fem pronouns, nsfw (?), jealousy (not really tho), mentions of eating problems/food

[wonustars]

𖠗 𓂃 。˚ ⋆𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘢𝘰, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘉𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘳

pairings: xu minghao x reader genre: one night stand, s2l (?), smut (mdni), drabble, *not proof read* word count: 1.3k words synopsys: on a whim, your friends dare you to get nipple piercings done at minghao's tattoo and piercing shop. inspired by: this minghao lip piercing vid

tags: bodypiercer/tattooartist!mingaho, touchstarved!reader, afab!reader, minghao has a lip and tongue piercing. smut tags/ warnings : nipple play, unprotected sex (plz do not do this w strangers lol), cream pie, fingering, pet names (sweetheart, baby), unrealistic portrayals of getting your nipples pierced.

likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated/encouraged ^-^

note: ...hi lol the amount of times i saw that video of mingaho... like i can't not just post a short fic about him being the person to do your first body piercing (?) djflajdfhkjahk . this is my first time posting something so short lol. this is just a lil something so i could take a small break from writing my scoups fic :>. lmk what u think!!! enjoy heeheh &lt;;3

“You’re going to have to take off your shirt.” Minghao looks at you, a little unimpressed.

With doe eyes, you nod hesitantly. Laying down on the sterilized but soft piercing bed, your palms begin to sweat. The thought of the needles going through your sensitive nipples, twice, is causing you to second guess your friends’ dare. The adrenaline rush catching up with you, making you believe that you should’ve just asked for another option. Anything but this…, you chanted in your head.

Minghao puts his gloves on, glancing back at you to see what state you’re in, concluding that you’re at the stage of regret.

He prepares all his piercing instruments on a tray beside where you lay. As he takes his seat on the chair your pulse starts to pick up again. Thanking god that the tattoo shop had private rooms for piercings.

“Uh Miss. Your shirt?” He asks again, the needle now in his hands.

“Oh. Oh! Right sorry.” You chuckle uncomfortably, lifting up your baby tee. Your nipples now on full display for a complete stranger. An attractive stranger at that.

“You know you don’t have to do this.” He says nonchalantly as he tweaks your nipples. It causes your breath to hitch, the feeling his fingers on twisting you. You know it’s not in a sexual manner, but you feel a buzz rushing down to your core.

You can’t help but notice the way his tugs at his lip piercing, his tongue occasionally poking out of his mouth, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his tongue piercing.

“I-it’s too late now.” You stutter. Your answer comes out almost in a breathy moan but you quickly cover it up with a cough.

“Hm. Not really. I can see how scared you are.” Minghao shrugs.

He notices the way your thighs squeeze together. He smirks inwardly, the fact that you’re getting turned on during a piercing is intriguing to him.

“Well I can’t just back out now.” You whine, Minghao continues to prod at your nipples. Trying to find the perfect place to strike the needle through. He finally picks up on the effect he has on you.

“You’re quite a dirty girl aren’t you?” He chuckles, staring into your eyes.

You freeze at his words, the seriousness in his gaze indicating he isn’t joking around.

“W-what the fuck? Why would you even say that?”

“Because I know that pussy of yours is dripping right now.” He smirks.

You’re utterly baffled, your mouth opening and closing but you can’t seem to answer him. He isn’t even wrong, you’re so turned on just from him playing with your nipples.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” You huff, the blush on your cheeks running down to your neck.

You do know though, because you can feel your panties begin to stick to your pussy lips.

Minghao puts down his piercing instruments and takes off his gloves, standing up from his chair to tower over your laying body. His hand trailing up your inner thigh, it surprises you enough that you let out a soft whimper. Minghao only smirks at your reaction.

He isn’t the type to fuck a client, but the way your doe eyes looked at him as he tried to find the sweet spot on your sensitive buds turned him on. He knew right at that moment that he was going to pierce you in more than one place, except the second time wasn’t going to be with a needle.

As his long fingers ascend up your thigh, he finally reaches the heat between your legs. His movements causing your skirt to hike up your body.

“Naughty naughty girl…” He mutters as he feels for the dampness on your underwear.

If he weren’t so damn hot, you really wouldn’t be feeling this way. But it was something about his dark hair and the way his tongue played with his lip piercing, it was hypnotizing to say the least.

“Hmmph please,” You let out a wanton sigh, your eyebrows scrunching.

His fingers rub your throbbing clit through the fabric of your underwear. His movements precise due to his years of experience tattooing and piercing people.

“What do you want sweetheart?” He coos.

Minghaos fingers move your panties to the side, letting the pads of fingers glide against your cunt. Rubbing circles on your puffed bud, he begins to kiss up your exposed upper half. His wet kisses and lip piercing leaving a hot and cold tingling against your searing skin.

“Y-your fingers. Please.” You beg him, gripping onto the forearm that’s playing with your sopping core.

He doesn’t say anything more. Giving into your request, he places two fingers into your fluttering hole. You moan loudly, feeling the sensation of his long digits filling you.

“You’re fucking soaking baby” He groans, imagining how tight you’re going to feel on his cock.

Minghao cant wait. He wants to know what it feels like to be inside you.

Pulling down his pants and boxers, he frees his hard length. Sighing at how unrestricted he is.

You lift your back off the piercing bed, leaning back with your arms supporting you. You create space for him, spreading your legs to let Minghao slip between them. Your panties stay pushed to the side, skirt hiked around your hips, and your shirt pulled up past your heavy breasts.

Minghao takes you in, seeing how sexy you look exposed for him.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” He demands, voice unwavering. It sends a shiver up your spine, loving how dominant he is.

“Want your cock please.” You whine, spreading your legs further.

He shakes his head and laughs softly, moving closer to fill in the space between you two. His lips touching yours, surprisingly soft. His tongue enters your mouth quickly, and your whimper at how his tongue piercing feels against your wet mouth.

You wrap your hands around his neck, legs around his waist. He long member poking at your entrance, teasing you. It bumps against your clit slightly, so much so that you being to lose patience.

Taking matters into your own hands, you grab his dick, pumping it a few times before leading it into your entrance. Minghao follows your actions, moving his hips forward to finally sheath himself in your warmth.

You both moan at the sudden intrustion, your mouths open, tongues playing with each other as he begins to pump himself in you.

A salacious moan leaves your lips, you throw your head back as his long hardness fill you completely, bumping into your cervix ever so slightly.

Minghao grips on your thighs harshly, completely feeling the ridges of your hot pussy. You’re completely sucking him in and he can’t get enough. The noise of your wet cunt being fucked by him is sending him closer to his orgasm by the second. he can’t help but move faster, just to hear the way his skin slaps against yours.

He only speeds up as time passes, causing your juices to leak onto the leather beneath you. Minghao dares to look down between you two, seeing the way his thick cock is splitting you open.

“F-fuck! ‘M gonna come” You exclaim, gripping onto his biceps.

“Come for me baby.” He mutters, thrusting in and out of you like no tomorrow.

You finally let go the second he takes one of his hand to rub your clit, tipping you over the edge with a stroke of his thumb. Your pussy clenches hard against him, sending him into his own release.

“Wanna cream you baby” He says in pants, you can only nod, already feeling over stimulated.

He takes that as permission to release his hot load into you.

Still continuing to rut his hips into yours, he rides out his high. The sight of his seed spilling past your lips and forming a white ring on his cock is enough to make him hard again.

To your dismay he pulls out, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his release off your thighs.

“So how about that piercing?” You ask with a shy smile, chest still heaving up and down from your previous ministrations.

© wonustars

𖠗 𓂃 。˚ ⋆

general taglist: @christinewithluv @soonyoonswoo

a/n: thank you for reading! if there’s any typos/mistakes/missing tags lmk! likes, comments, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated. have a question, thought, or request? leave it in my ask box. mwah &lt;;3

- anna!!

[1-800-hwahui]

art project

member | art major grad student bf!minghao x fem reader genre | smut. maybe fluff at the end kinda word count | ~2,800 warnings | dom!minghao, sub!reader, reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex (use protection irl!!), use of paints (they're safe dw), breastplay (?), choking, an ounce of humiliation (and i mean it there's barely any), reader begs him to cum inside, creampie, reader falls asleep for the aftercare but there is indeed (some) aftercare, use of pet names: good girl (1), darling (4), baby (3). if i missed any lmk! notes | lowercase intended. partially based on this ask from @sluttyminghao. dedicated to alicia i hope you enjoy suffering :) also thanks to @duhnova for proofreading ily -💒 june

minors dni. you will be blocked.

join my taglist here!

“what do you need me to do?”

your soft voice snaps minghao back to attention, and he looks up at you, laying on a couch in the center of the room. completely naked.

his hands shake imperceptibly as he grips the pencil, keeping his eyes firmly on the canvas in front of him.

he knows it’s part of the curriculum to do an anatomy study—which, of course, involves studying the human body. he just didn’t expect it to be your body he has to study. and he definitely didn’t expect to be fighting a hard-on the entire time he’s trying to sketch.

and he’s trying not to, this assignment is due at midnight and he’s just barely started, but how is he supposed to be expected to focus on this assignment when his gorgeous partner, the love of his life, is sitting so innocently yet so lewdly in front of him? patiently waiting for him to finish his assignment so you can spend the rest of this gorgeous sunday afternoon with him?

minghao has a feeling he’s not going to get much work done today.

“do you need me to pose, or something?” you call out, a hint of nervousness in your voice at the prolonged silence in the studio.

he stands up from the chair at his easel and tentatively walks over to you.

“can i…?” he breathes, reaching out to touch you.

you bite your lip and look up at him, nodding. “mhm.”

it would be a lie to say you weren’t incredibly turned on being minghao’s model. something about the thought of being completely revealed to him while he sits fully clothed, scrutinizing every inch of your body so he can immortalize you as one of his masterpieces, makes you rub your thighs together against the couch in anticipation.

his slender fingers trace up your side absently, his eyes fixated on your breasts and he gently turns you towards the light shining through the open window.

“tell me what you need, hao,” you whisper, and you’re positive that both of you know you’re talking about more than just you posing for his portrait.

with him standing in front of where you’re laying, your gaze is directly level with his thighs, the obvious tent in his pants just within reach.

you look up at him, your eyes silently asking permission before you reach out to rest a hand tentatively on his thigh.

he shudders, and you smile, moving your hand on top of his bulge and just barely applying pressure.

he groans at your touch, then grabs your wrist, stilling your hand. you pause, waiting for him.

“assignment—first,” he says breathily. “let me finish first.”

you curl your legs behind you on the couch, leaning back. “you could always… finish first,” you grin mischievously.

he steps back, barely out of your reach, but enough that your hand falls back down to your side.

“better hurry then,” you say. “you’re gonna have quite the mess to clean up. i’m dripping all over this sofa.”

you’re teasing and you know it. but you figure this is payback for all the essays and assignments that he’d interrupted so he could spread you out on the twin bed in his cramped dorm your first year together.

he turns suddenly and hurries to a cabinet on the other side of the room.

while his back is to you, you decide to have a little fun– if you weren’t already having fun riling him up.

you slip your hand between your thighs and spread your legs, the cold air hitting your sensitive area and making your shiver. you push apart your folds, slowly dragging one finger up and down to spread your wetness around. you whine when you finally slip the tip of your index finger inside, just barely to the first knuckle. not enough to give you anything, but enough to make minghao mad.

and mad he is. when he turns around from the cabinet, the look on his face isn’t surprised at your bratty actions, but rather, a sadistic kind of excitement. he narrows his eyes at you playfully.

“did i tell you you were allowed to do that, darling?” he says, walking back towards you. his shyness from earlier is gone, replaced with the usual hard persona that you’re used to seeing from him. which is exactly the reason you decided to misbehave.

“mm, no,” you admit. “but so what?”

he scoffs. “if you’re done being a brat, i have work to do on this assignment.”

you finally notice the tubes of paint in his hand, and your heart speeds up in exhilaration.

“here.” he tosses them to you, colorful pinks and blues and yellows. “if you’re going to touch yourself, use the paint. give me something pretty to look at while i draw, hmm?”

you turn one of the tubes over in your hand, studying the label.

“they’re body safe, don’t worry,” he adds, his faux-displeased look falling for a minute into the sweet, shy boyfriend you’re used to. “i, uh… got them special for you, in case you wanted to try them.”

you smile, grateful for his thoughtfulness. your eyes never leave his as you snap open the cap of one of the bottles and dump it onto your chest, almost daring him to make a move. bright orange liquid spills down your breasts, covering you in paint.

minghao steps forward and runs his finger through the paint, collecting it on his finger before smearing it roughly across your cheek. “there,” he says, turning and walking back to his easel as if nothing happened. “now you look like art.”

you giggle suggestively and open another bottle, squirting a glob into the palm of your hand. you rub your hands together to thoroughly coat them, then slap your hands against your thighs, leaving bright pink handprints along the skin just below your dripping cunt.

minghao sits at his canvas, sketching nonchalantly as you make a mess on the couch.

you think he’ll give in soon and come fuck you like you want, but he’s firm; at least half an hour passes without so much as a smirk in your direction. he’s so focused on his work, that you don’t think he even notices when you start fingering yourself again, hands still covered in paint as you roll your clit between your fingers and buck your hips off the couch in desperate search for more.

“hao,” you whine, getting impatient. “are you done yet?”

“brats don’t get what they want,” he reminds you sternly. “and you haven’t been behaving very well. now sit still so i can finish this, or you won’t get fucked at all today.”

you moan and lean back against the couch again. despite all the playing, you know this assignment is worth a big part of his grade, and he needs to get it done– tonight.

you’re almost starting to drift off when you hear chair legs scrape against the floor loudly. you look up, tired, and see minghao walking towards you with a satisfied grin.

“it’s finished?” you ask, stifling a yawn. the afternoon has gotten later, and the sun still shining through the window has gotten darker.

“enough. you still want me to take care of you, baby?” he breathes.

you nod and whimper, starting to wriggle in your seat. some of the paint on your skin has dried, and it cracks and flakes off at the movement. the half-full bottles lay on the seat next to you, and he picks one up, turning it over in his hands.

“you know how this works, darling. need to hear you say it out loud,” he chides.

you moan and adjust in your seat. “yes, please. hao, please,” you groan out.

“that’s my good girl,” he smiles, opening the bottle and pouring some into his hand. his long finger swirls the liquid around in his palm teasingly.

“please,” you whine again.

“i’m not sure you deserve me, after how you behaved,” he frowns, but he begins tracing his paint-covered finger along your collarbone. “get my pants off, then, if you want me so bad.”

it’s humiliating, but you swear you’ve never moved faster in your life, hands flying to the loose buttons of his pants.

his hands are now completely covered in paint, so you help him shrug off his cardigan, leaving him in a low cut tank top. you admire the way his skin glistens with sweat, before either of you have even done anything strenuous.

suddenly he presses both palms flat against your chest, leaving pretty purple handprints over your breasts before lifting his hands. you groan at the cold feeling of the paint on your nipples, watching his own harden beneath his shirt.

the muscles in his arms flex as he slips out of the last of his clothes, leaving him exposed in front of you. you know he must be painfully hard by now, having had to sit and watch you writhe on the sofa for nearly an hour.

he grabs you and flips you over with ease, manhandling you into the position he wants you. you don’t struggle, letting him toss you into whatever pose he pleases.

“since you couldn’t sit still earlier, maybe you’ll sit still once you’ve got my dick in you,” he grunts through gritted teeth.

you’re flat on your back against the seat cushions, minghao standing over you with one leg planted on the back of the couch.

you whine out his name, and finally you get what you want. he starts pushing into you, meeting zero resistance from how wet you’ve been for the past hour combined with leftover paint that dripped down to your cunt.

you sigh, head lolling back against the armrest as he enters you inch by inch, giving you the delicious stretch you’ve been waiting for all day.

your breathing falters as he slowly pulls most of the way out before slamming back into you, giving you little time to adjust.

the different colors of paint smear down your skin as he thrusts into you, the force of his thrusts making the paint pool at your breasts and collarbones.

he slows down for just a second to grab another color and slop it on his palm, before his hand slides up to your neck. the pressure is just barely there, but it’s more than enough to make you dizzy.

“mingha–ao,” you gasp as he continues snapping his hips against yours. the pads of his fingers tighten against your neck, and you’re sure he can feel your racing pulse beneath his fingertips.

“look at my beautiful masterpiece,” he coos, his hips never letting up as he speaks. “my work of art. covered in all these pretty colors, just for me.”

you let out a whimper at his words, involuntarily clenching around his cock.

he curses and tightens his grip around your neck. “squeezing me– ah, so beautifully, darling. ‘m not gonna last long if you keep doing that.”

“don’t care,” you blubber, eyes starting to fill with tears from the constant pressure building in your pussy. “cum in me, hao, please– need you, baby, need you to cum in me–”

“you think you’ve earned it?” he scolds, reaching down with his other hand to grab your breast, smearing more paint across your dirtied skin. “you think you’ve earned my cum?”

“m–please, hao, please,” you sob. “please!”

he lets go of your breast and reaches down to play with your pussy, slowing his pace a little so he can rub tight circles over your clit. you try to squeeze your legs shut, but he keeps you spread open with his knee.

“co-coming,” you gasp, struggling to catch your breath as every muscle in your body contracts. his fingers on your clit move faster and suddenly you cry out, wave after wave of intense pleasure hitting you with such force your vision goes dark for a split second. your ears are ringing; the only sound you can focus on is the sound of minghao’s soft grunts as he continues plowing into you.

when you finally regain control of your limbs, you reach out to grab his arm, the paint still on your own hands leaving smeared colors along his bicep.

he pulls out completely, and you whimper at the loss before you see him bend down, his head level with your pussy. he looks up at you for a second, wordlessly making sure you’re still okay, and once you nod, he spits roughly on your hole, saliva dripping down your used cunt.

you moan at the feeling of your body slick with paint, sweat and now spit. minghao quickly shoves two fingers into your cunt, giving you no warning before thrusting them in and out, over and over again.

but just as quickly as he began, he removes his fingers, wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

“need you to– cum in me, hao, please.” you whine, reaching out for him, but your arms are too sore to move very far, and the effort is futile.

he holds the base of his cock in one hand, gently guiding it back into you as his other hand comes forward to meet with yours. he interlaces your fingers, the paint on both your hands combining one last time.

he gradually speeds up his pace until he’s thrusting into you so roughly, you have to cover your head with your other hand to stop yourself from slamming into the armrest.

“give me one more, baby,” he growls, adjusting his leg propped up on the couch so he hits at a deeper angle. “i’m c-close,” he adds when you moan in response.

you shut your eyes tightly, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten. you squeeze minghao’s hand and feel him squeeze back, until his hips stop abruptly and he shoves his cock fully into you, letting out a high-pitched moan, and you know he’s coming.

at that moment you let go, your cunt gushing around him as you work through your second orgasm of the night.

you can’t tell if the warm sensation between your legs is from his cum or yours, but what you do know is that every inch of you is sore from sitting on this couch all day.

he slips out of you and runs his finger through your folds one more time, making you shiver with sensitivity as he admires his work.

he stands and walks back to the cabinet from earlier. you can’t see what he’s getting from your position on the couch, but you can only hope it’s something soft and comfortable.

“wipes,” he explains as he comes back to kneel beside you. “gotta get you cleaned up, darling.”

you whimper and let your eyes fall shut as you give yourself up to minghao, allowing him to take care of you. the cold, wet feeling of the wipe across your chest is uncomfortable, but you know you can’t stay covered in paint forever.

he wipes slowly along your body, being careful not to be too rough around your neck where he held you and between your legs. you feel yourself drifting off, the world becoming quieter and quieter as you relax into the gentle feeling of his arms around you, tenderly cleaning the paint off your skin.

when you wake up you’re no longer on the couch. in fact, you’re no longer at minghao’s studio.

you sit up, rubbing your eyes to see the inside of minghao’s apartment. you feel a blanket over your lap, and your hair is wet, though you don’t remember washing it.

you hear footsteps behind you, and you turn to see minghao carrying a tray with fruit and a cup of tea.

“you’re awake,” he smiles warmly.

“how long was i out?”

he sets the tray on the table next to you and shrugs. “maybe an hour? you were snoring in my car, by the way.”

your face heats up. “i was not!”

he laughs. “well, you were. anyway… got you in the shower, put all our clothes in the laundry–”

“did you finish your assignment?” you ask.

he smiles. “yeah, while you were out. only time you’d sit still long enough for me to draw you,” he teases.

you pout, shaking your head in disagreement, but accept his snacks.

“so… the paint?” he asks cautiously.

you take a sip from your tea. “what about it?”

“did you… um, like it?”

it’s your turn to smile. “i did. it was fun, we should try that more often. you’re sexy when you talk about art.”

the lighting in his living room is dim, but you can still see the way his cheeks flush at your words.

he sighs, reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “my beautiful masterpiece,” he says softly. “all mine.”

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feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! :)

[seungkwansphd]

just deserts

pairing: wonwoo x minghao x fem reader word count: 4.9k synopsis: when wonwoo and minghao invited you to this fancy business event, it hadn't really crossed your mind that they'd be busy working instead of entertaining you! perhaps you can find someone else to keep you busy, but those who misbehave always get their just deserts. themes/cw: SMUT! mdni!, threesome, established poly, BDSM elements, brat-ish vibes, toy usage, rough sex, power dynamic, degradation kink, spitting(once), cumplay(kinda?).

a/n: idk friends, the horny thoughts just keep coming. baby's first 3some fic! i think i got everything for content warnings, but do lmk if i missed anything! also TYSM to @playmetheclassics for beta-ing and making me this BEAUTIFUL banner (via @classicscreations) i appreciate you so much!

“Hao I’m bored,” you pouted, tugging at Minghao’s necktie as you looked up at him.

“Bored? Or needy?” He glanced down at you, clocking your true intentions immediately.

“Both,” your lips curled up at him playfully. “Do you and Wonwoo have to do so much networking tonight?”

“You already know the answer to that,” he replied. He was trying to be stern, but you knew that Minghao typically had a softer spot for you than Wonwoo.

“I should’ve just stayed home,” you grumbled. “At least at home I wouldn’t be wearing such uncomfortable heels and I could have fun by myself,” you whispered suggestively at Hao, fingertips tracing down the edge of his lapel mischievously.

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow, lips quirking up with interest. Your teasing words forced him to recall the last time he’d watched you pleasure yourself and he found himself effectively distracted.

“Quit it,” Wonwoo appeared behind you, whispering discreetly in your ear. He’d been watching you and Minghao from across the room and could tell that Hao was close to folding.

“Quit what?” you asked, feigning innocence, blinking up at Wonwoo with wide eyes.

“You know what,” he hissed, tugging harshly at one of the ties on your dress. “Hao, you need to go talk to the president of the bank.”

Minghao stood up straight and cleared his throat. Wonwoo was right, some clear objectives needed to be met tonight. He downed the rest of the drink and made his way towards the president, leaving you and Wonwoo alone. You were disappointed when Wonwoo’s eyes caught another potential investor’s and he left you just as swiftly.

You sulked. When Wonwoo and Hao had originally asked if you’d wanted to attend, the idea of getting dolled up to attend this fancy event had appealed to you. Still, you hadn’t realized just how much business they both intended to do! You’d spent the last few hours mostly by yourself and your feet absolutely throbbed with pain, so you were in a bad mood to say the least. 

Well, if Minghao and Wonwoo weren’t going to pay attention to you, you were sure you could find someone else who would.

“Oh, Dylan?” you smiled happily as you caught sight of a young investor that you had met a few months ago.

“Oh, YN? I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!” the handsome young gentleman smiled, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either!” your eyes sparkled at him, squeezing him back maybe just a tad too enthusiastically. “How have you been?”

“Good, very good actually,” he answered after some thought. “Are you tied up? If not, let’s grab a drink to catch up.”

“Not at all,” you smiled back genially. “Let’s do it!” You placed your hand into his and allowed him to lead you towards the bar. Wonwoo and Minghao’s relationship with Dylan was interesting and complicated. As an investor of many businesses, he was somehow both a prospect and a competitor at the same time. While they often found themselves competing with businesses that he held a stake in, they would also more than welcome investment from him. As always, you were acting in a way that you knew would irritate them, but wouldn’t completely piss them off.

Minghao’s eyes flitted to you from across the room. Dylan Wang wasn’t on the list of marks for the evening, but certainly would’ve been a ‘nice to have’. He and Wonwoo did their best to stay engaged in their respective conversations, but every simpering giggle that fell from your lips caused their ears to prick towards you. Their eyes met, communicating silently. They finished their respective schmoozing and moved to intercept you.

“Oh, Hao!” your eyes lit up as you saw him first. “Dylan, you remember my colleague, Minghao?” you beamed at Dylan as you gestured towards Hao.

“Of course,” Dylan nodded at the other man.

“It’s good to see you again,” Minghao greeted him stiffly, almost physically fighting the urge to stare daggers at the hand draped around your waist.

“Actually, if you have a moment, I’d love to pick your brain,” Hao finally came up with an excuse, prying Dylan from your side. At the same time, Wonwoo materialized behind you and pulled you behind a heavily foliaged fiddle leaf fig.

“Care to explain yourself?” He asked, peering at you down the line of his nose.

“About?” you asked, as if clueless. Wonwoo’s eyebrows twitched with irritation before he replied.

“A little bit of attention and he can put his hands on you? Are you that easy?” he sneered. His eyes flicked over you in a way that triggered a warmth to spread across your cheeks.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could retort.

“I know you’re bored, but if you don’t get a hold of yourself, you’ll have something else to worry about,” he hissed in your ear, gripping your hips tightly.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion, so Wonwoo went on to elaborate.

“You are dangerously close to getting bent over and railed right here. If you’re that desperate we can ruin this whole event. I’m almost past caring at this point.”

The words were menacing and sent a chill down your spine. Part of you thought that Wonwoo was above his baser urges and wouldn’t undo months of planning just to punish you, but the other part of you had seen this man at his most unhinged and you thought perhaps he just might.

“It’s so boring though,” you frowned. You could feel Wonwoo’s poor mood rolling off of him.

“Then go home,” he spoke through his teeth. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message.

“Car’s coming.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, stomping  off towards the coat check.

“Be ready when we get home,” he caught your wrist, voice so low you could barely hear it. “And don’t think it’s worth your while to get a head start.”

You swallowed, eyes narrowing at him before you tried to step away. Wonwoo’s fingers bit into you, a warning, and you nodded before you slipped out of his grip and worked towards the car. Your lips curled up into a smile once you were out of his line of sight. If you played your cards right, you might get what you wanted.

…

Wonwoo ran his right hand over his face as he looked at the phone in his left hand. He’d thought that sending you home would be enough to make you behave, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He scrolled through the pictures and texts that he had had to silence and his blood boiled.

“She’s in for it, isn’t she?” Minghao chuckled, throwing his partner a wry look.

“What do you think?” Wonwoo almost snapped.

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one being a brat,” Hao threw his hands up in defense.

“No, but you encourage her,” Woo accused. Generally he enjoyed the dynamic nature of your relationship, but it really would’ve been easier tonight if you had just been good.

“Shall we take bets on whether she managed to wait?” Hao chuckled.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Wonwoo rolled his eyes with a snicker, “She was so needy. I bet she’s a mess already.”

“I guess I’ll have to have a little faith then,” Minghao laughed, leaning forward to shake Wonwoo’s hand.

You huffed as you scrolled through your phone, disappointed but not surprised that neither Minghao nor Wonwoo had responded to your many lewd texts. You had graced them with a play by play of your various states of undress as you’d slipped out of your gown and you’d expected at least one text back, but they both seemed to be playing hardball tonight.

Your ears pricked to attention as you heard them return. First, the scraping of the key in the door was followed by a series of footsteps, but you were surprised when you heard them stop. You couldn’t see it, but Wonwoo and Minghao were discussing the approach they planned to take, which had the added bonus of making you wait. Eventually, their footfalls resumed and they entered your room, the stern expressions on their faces sending a chill down your spine.

“Hi,” you greeted them. Your voice sounded small, even to yourself.

“I guess I was wrong, Hao,” Wonwoo sneered, barely even looking at you, “She was able to control herself.”

“I guess so,” Minghao chuckled, hands in his pockets. “I’ll owe you.”

“Did you take bets on me?” your brow wrinkled as you pieced things together. You were both offended and excited.

“And if we did?” Wonwoo looked down his nose at you, one eyebrow raised. When you couldn’t formulate a response his lips curled up into a smirk. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Even though you grew weak when Wonwoo treated you this way, you couldn't help the reflexive way your temper flared. Glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.

“Great, you’re home. Now good night,” you scrunched your nose at him, laying back down and pulling the covers over yourself. Minghao was amused at this behavior and he complied easily when Wonwoo gestured for him to go to you.

“Good night?” Hao cooed, sitting next to you on the bed, running his fingertips across your exposed shoulder. “After all that teasing, you’re just going to go to bed?”

“You guys are boring anyways,” you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but you shifted slightly so that you were facing him more.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Hao smiled down at you, trailing his fingers up your neck to cup your chin and rub the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. You hummed, preening under his praise.

“You looked so good tonight, it was hard to keep my hands off you,” he continued to shower you with compliments as Wonwoo wandered towards the dresser and pulled the top drawer open.

“Pfft,” you rolled your eyes at Hao.

Wonwoo’s expression ticked at this behavior. You’d been riding the line with your poor behavior all night and this pushed him over the edge.

“Out of bed, now,” his deep voice rang out tersely. You looked at him with surprise and his expression sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed loudly, pulse quickening as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The edge that you could hear in Wonwoo’s voice made you wonder if you had pushed too hard.

“Come here,” he instructed, back still facing you as he perused the contents of the drawer. You glanced at Minghao nervously before stepping towards Wonwoo, looking at his broad back until he turned to face you. His tongue swiped across his teeth as he took in your pajama set with distaste. 

“Get out of this,” were the last words he spoke before he tossed a bundle of shibari rope at Minghao and pulled an app-controlled vibrator out of the drawer.

Minghao started undoing the rope from its storage tie and looked towards Wonwoo for guidance on how he wanted you tonight. After ensuring that the toy was connected to his phone, Wonwoo brought himself toe to toe with you, pulling your chin up harshly to meet his gaze.

“Color?” he asked. His tone was cold, but you could see a hint of softness in his eyes if you squinted.

“Green.”

“Limits?”

“Same as usual,” you blinked up at him.

Wonwoo nodded before shifting slightly to position your arms behind you so that Minghao could tie you up. He folded your forearms together so that each hand held the opposite elbow and you enjoyed the slight stretch that you felt through your shoulders. Your skin broke out in goosebumps as Hao started binding you. His fingertips trailed across your skin teasingly as he snaked rope around you, snapping it against your skin tautly every so often for impact. Your arms were effectively immobilized and the rope created a harness around your chest. Hao slipped two fingers into each of your hands and you gripped them tightly, completing his check to ensure he hadn’t cut off your circulation.

“Knees,” Wonwoo demanded as he rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He smirked as you dropped for him, struggling for a moment to keep your balance as you didn’t have your arms to help right you. His eyes burned into you as he pulled at his tie, loosening it before he approached. Your nipples puckered being in this vulnerable position as adrenaline rushed through you.

“You look so good like this,” Hao cupped your cheek in his hand as he stood behind you. “On your knees for us.”

“Hn,” you giggled, looking up at him sweetly as his thumb grazed your lips. You opened your mouth, sucking his thumb into your wet hole.

“Look at you. You’ll put your mouth on anything, won’t you?” Wonwoo sneered, eyes trained on the shape your lips made around Minghao’s digit. He allowed it to go on for a few more moments before he snaked a hand into your hair, pulling you back. You gasped in surprise and Wonwoo seized the opportunity to pop the remote controlled vibe into your mouth. 

“Hold this for me,” he chuckled sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him, but whatever retort you could have come up with was effectively muzzled.

Hao patted you on the head before undoing his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He sank to his knees behind you, checking your grip before using his hands to torture you. Wonwoo watched as Hao’s fingertips traced along his bindings, brushed along the undersides of your breasts, and gripped tightly, as if trying to bruise you. Then with his left hand, you traced along your inner thighs until he met the slick dripping out of you.

“Absolutely fucking soaked,” he snickered as he nipped at your collarbone sharply. “Pathetic.”

You let out a desperate, muffled sound, forgetting that Wonwoo’s toy was still in your mouth.

“Shall I?” Minghao’s eyes flitted up to the older man’s.

“Yes, can’t have her leaking all over the place, after all,” Wonwoo nodded after blinking slowly.

Hao chuckled as he plucked the toy from your mouth, reaching between your legs, and sliding it into you, nice and snug. Your arousal provided more than sufficient lubrication and you felt yourself being filled until the base sat securely against your clit. Your hips jerked slightly at this new sensation, arching back against his broad chest.

You clenched around the toy and watched Wonwoo play with his phone lazily. He didn’t even bother to look at you as you turned it on, setting it abuzz at a medium setting.

“Oh!” you whimpered pathetically, jumping slightly. Minghao’s grip on your rope harness, however, held you firmly in place as you soaked the toy lodged deep inside of you. You squirmed and twisted as Wonwoo increased the speed. 

“Wonwoo!” you pleaded with him fruitlessly.

“Hao,” Wonwoo’s eyebrows jerked up slightly and Minghao nodded, reaching forward to press his palm against the base of the toy. You jerked again, desperate for relief, but Hao’s grip on your harness was ironclad.

“Hao!” you cried, tears welling in your eyes as his right hand pressed against you, grinding the buzzing toy cruelly against your sopping wet, swollen clit. You let out a mangled scream as your first orgasm ripped through you, your head falling back against Hao’s shoulder, chest heaving beautifully for Wonwoo to witness.

“One more,” Hao whispered in your ear as he kept the toy pressed against you, working you through another orgasm until you were gasping wildly for breath.

“I fucking hate you two,” you cursed between inhale and exhale, body heavy as you tried to gather yourself.

“You keep running your mouth like that and I’ll leave you tied up on the floor with the toy on all night,” Wonwoo’s eyes flashed dangerously at you. Your lips pressed into a straight line before you could say anything else.

“That’s better,” Wonwoo scoffed, squatting down in front of you, jerking you up by Hao’s ties to meet him. “Open.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your mouth, already anticipating his next move. Wonwoo’s expression was a mixture of appreciation and disdain when he sent a glob of saliva flying into your mouth. You let out the tiniest of whimpers when it landed at the back of your tongue. You hated and loved how well he knew you.

“You might as well put your mouth to use,” Wonwoo stood, gesturing towards Minghao as he walked away.

You turned to Minghao with a playful grin, licking your lips with anticipation. Minghao’s lips curled up into a smile, but he surprised you when he moved away from you, instead electing to sit in a chair across the room. He leaned back, legs spread as he palmed himself through the front of his pants. When you didn’t move, he looked up, eyes hooded, and summoned you towards him with two fingers.

You threw him a look. He really expected you to get to him on your knees like this?

“Come,” he coaxed, voice deceptively like honey as he palmed himself through his slacks.

You struggled a little, but eventually managed to balance on your knees and shuffle towards him. For a moment you contemplated rather you’d prefer being unbound, as crawling would be less difficult, though maybe more humiliating. By the time you had managed to wedge yourself between his legs, your arousal had dripped practically down to your knees.

“That’s our good girl,” Wonwoo settled in behind you, placing his fingers into your hands for another safety check. “Now show him what that filthy mouth is good for,” he grinned. “Don’t forget to use your physical cues on me if you need.”

You nodded, smiling gratefully before leaning forward to drag your lips across Minghao’s erection. You nibbled along the underside of it until you reached the tip and pulled him into your mouth. You hummed contentedly when you heard him hiss with pleasure. Minghao always made such nice sounds. Being restrained posed a bit of an extra challenge, but you managed to find a position where you were comfortable enough to bob your head up and down his length, breath catching every so often when his tip hit the back of your throat.

“So sloppy,” Minghao exhaled, puncturing the quiet as his abs contracted and twitched.

Wonwoo gripped your hips, grinding himself against your ass as he watched with admiration. You were going to leave a stain on his slacks, but that only served to egg him on more. Something in Wonwoo snapped as he watched you moan around Minghao’s cock and his thrusts grew sharper and more desperate. Digging his fingertips into your hips, he pulled you back, jerking Minghao out of your mouth. You cried out loudly as Wonwoo ground himself against the toy still firmly lodged inside of you.

“Wonwoo,” you wailed.“Please!”

“Oh?” he cooed, deceptively sweet, in your ear. “Gonna cum again? Cum for me?”

“Yes, Woo,” you nodded desperately.

“Go ahead,” he ordered, hand now fisted around one of the shibari ropes around your back. His hips pumped against you mercilessly and you came with a fluttery wail, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“Do you want your arms back?” Wonwoo murmured against the top of your head as he supported you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Hao,” Wonwoo jerked his head towards you and Minghao quickly set upon untying you. You smiled at him gratefully as he supported your upper body, rubbing your shoulders gently where he knew you’d be stiff.

“I do enjoy seeing you marked up like this,” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow as he counted the indents that the rope had left on your skin as he pulled you to your feet.

You turned to reach for him, eager at his praise. You were completely surprised when he caught you by the side of the face and held you away at arm’s length.

“Wha-?” you mumbled against his palm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo asked, tone cold.

“Oh, I just-,” you stuttered, “I thought-...” you trailed off. Now that you tried to put it into words, you didn’t know what you’d been thinking.

“Now we all know that thinking isn’t your strong suit, kitten. Do you really think that after all your bad behavior today, you’re going to get a sweet little kiss?” he sneered at you.

“Not when you put it like that,” you pouted.

“So desperate for attention that you were even willing to let Dylan Wang put his hands on you,” Minghao appeared behind you, hand sliding over your hip possessively. “Did you forget who you belong to?”

“No, I-,” your craned your head, eyes searching him out.

“Laughing like a simpering little twit at his bad jokes, hanging off his arm,” Wonwoo seethed, pulling your attention back to him. They were giving you whiplash.

“I-,” you struggled to think. Your knees threatened to buckle, but Wonwoo and Minghao had closed in on you and their torsos sandwiched you firmly upright.

“Tell us who you belong to, doll,” Hao’s lips nipped at your ear. The warm, wet whisper of breath made you dizzy and even though you knew the answer, you truly floundered as you tried to say it.

“Jeon Wonwoo! Xu Minghao!”

Both men cracked into a smile.

“Very good. Now shall we get some sleep? It’s been a long day,” Wonwoo teased.

“No!” you were surprised at the urgency with which your objection came out.

“Oh? So what is it that you want?” Wonwoo’s eyes raked over you.

“You know what I want,” you glared at him.

“I do. But I want you to use your words,” he patted your cheek condescendingly.

“I need you two to fuck me,” you answered, well past shameless at this point. You needed them and you’d do almost anything to get it.

“You won’t even be satisfied by one cock?” Hao laughed.

“Please, I’ve been go-,” you started to make your case, but you realized you didn’t have one. “Well, I’ve been waiting all night. Please.”

Wonwoo and Minghao both let out hearty laughs at your self-correction. Even if you weren’t always good, you’d always been honest, even to a fault.

“You have been waiting all night,” Wonwoo’s expression softened. “I suppose you can have what you want.”

“Really?” your eyes lit up.

They practically carried you to the bed, tossing you carelessly onto it. You watched, eyes glistening, as they undressed. Your thighs pressed together and you were surprised. With all of their teasing and torture, you’d completely forgotten that the toy was still inside of you. Wonwoo noticed at the same time that you did and he reached forward, plucking it from between your legs. He surprised you when he licked it, noting how you’d soaked it completely.

“Tasty,” he grinned, eyeing you hungrily as he set it aside.

You balked, ducking your head and flushing with disbelief. Hao chuckled at how you got shy before he slid his hands up your thighs and pushed your legs apart. His cock landed against your wet folds a few times as he teased you.

“Wow, completely drenched,” he groaned appreciatively as he watched your arousal coat his shaft. You squirmed, pushing your hips up towards him desperately. You needed more.

“Hao,” you mewled, grasping at his forearms. “No more teasing, please!”

Minghao chuckled. He might’ve been nicer than Wonwoo, but he still wasn’t that nice. He shifted to slide the tip of himself inside of you, but no further. Your brows knitted up with anticipation and then confusion when you realized what was happening. You tried pressing your hips up to take more of him, but he pulled back, managing to keep himself just barely inside of you.

“Minghao,” you huffed, clearly frustrated, but you kept trying, shifting your hips fruitlessly. It was as if you both held the ends of a rope and Minghao was doing his best to keep it just barely slack.

Wonwoo looked on with interest. He was surprised to see Hao in this kind of mood, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it. Smiling, he moved to the other side of the bed, towards your head. He leaned over you, cupping your cheek softly.

“Wonwoo,” you clutched at him naturally, “Woo, please,” you begged.

“Sorry kitten,” Wonwoo cooed condescendingly at you, his lips whispering above yours as he watched you writhe. Sweat beaded up on your nose as you tried, again and again, to work yourself down Minghao’s cock.

“Hao, please,” your eyes watered as you looked at him, fraught with arousal.

The corner of Minghao’s lip turned up just a fraction before he bucked his hips towards you, thrusting deeply. The gasp you let out tickled his ego and he continued, stroking into you deeply. From Wonwoo’s vantage point, it would almost seem brutal, but both he and Minghao knew it was what you wanted and needed.

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed as a wicked idea formed in his head. He leaned over you slightly and placed his palm against your lower abdomen, pressing down lightly.

“Wonwoo!” You and Minghao both let out jagged gasps at this additional pressure. Hao threaded his fingers through yours and after two more thrusts, orgasms ripped through you both.

“Bastard,” Hao cursed after he had caught his breath.

Wonwoo laughed. He’d certainly been called worse. As Minghao rolled off of you, he cupped your cheek again. Your eyes flicked up to him and he was surprised to see they were still full of want.

“More?” he asked.

“Want you, Woo,” you murmured affectionately, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Insatiable,” he laughed, but it was something he adored about you. He and Minghao traded places and Wonwoo slotted himself between your legs. Minghao’s cum was starting to leak so he quickly gathered it up and pushed it back into you.

Minghao’s hands cupped your chin as Wonwoo slid into you. He watched your pupils dilate as your mouth fell open, letting out the most gorgeous whimpers and sobs. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by you for a few moments before he returned to the task at hand - to make you cum and cum and cum until you were completely spent.

Hao and Wonwoo got along great, but when it came to your dynamics as three, they were nothing if not competitive. Minghao’s hands brushed along your skin, bringing up goosebumps. When they rolled over your nipples, you clenched, which wrinkled Wonwoo’s brow just a hair. Minghao looked down to hide his smirk. That was easy.

“You’re so responsive. You must be sensitive, doll,” Hao cooed in your ear as he reached down to rub your clit with his fingertips. You jerked slightly at his touch, walls squeezing around Wonwoo again as Hao worked counterclockwise.

Your mouth fell open, letting out a series of short pants as Hao worked you quickly to another orgasm. Wonwoo’s brows pinched together as your pussy spasmed around him torturously. He managed to keep his resolve, but Minghao did not ease up, fingers rubbing again, this time slower and firmer.

“Hao,” you moaned as you sank into the mattress. They were really intent on wrecking you tonight, huh?

“Pretty little toy,” Minghao cooed in your ear, “You’ll take it, won’t you? Whatever we give.”

“Ahh!” you cried. His words were enough to push you over the edge again. You convulsed around Wonwoo as you came and Minghao was truly surprised to see him continue to buck into you, adding to your overstimulation.

You had barely managed a few lungfuls of air before it started again. Wonwoo’s hand came down to rest around your throat as he met your eyes. His gaze was intense and you could feel yet another orgasm building in you already. You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn’t need to use your safe word yet, but you were starting to wonder how much more you could take. You were brought out of your thoughts, however, when Minghao landed a loud, wet slap against your clit. The knob of heat in your belly exploded through you violently. Wonwoo grunted loudly as you triggered his orgasm and he unloaded deep inside of you as you came.

You didn’t pass out, but it felt like you were regaining consciousness as you caught your breath. You were sore, tired, and so utterly satisfied. You grinned up at Hao and Wonwoo happily, eyes creasing into semi-circles. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Wonwoo spoke first, shifting off you. “It’s been a long day.”

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked as you settled into the pillows.

“What, still haven’t had enough?” Minghao teased, grabbing your chin gently.

“No plans yet,” Wonwoo answered. The toy he’d set on the nightstand earlier caught his eye. He picked it up and his eyes flashed at you playfully. “Maybe we’ll go out and make better use of this.”

You swallowed audibly.

[jjoongstar]

𝑩𝒇! 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒂𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

• Hugs u from the back regularly. He loves having u in his arms

• Loves to kiss and pinch ur cheeks. He thinks that ur so cute. Seeing u flustered after the kiss made him feel like he just fell in love with u all over again

• Likes to play with ur fingers when ur sitting next each other doing nothing.

• He would literally do anything to make u smile even the slightest.

• He can read ur emotions very easily. Like he knows when ur feeling a bit down n he will do everything to make u smile and feel much better.

• He's also the type to place his hands at ur back for no reason. Even in public just to ensure u that he always got ur back anytime. And also a sign to the public that ur his.

• Loves holding hands too. Like he'd be so gentle and ensuring in holding ur hands. Would also let u hold onto just his fingers instead of holding his whole hand.

• He also loves to pet u. Like head pats and just randomly touching ur chin cuz he thinks ur just too cute.

• He's also the type to have long hugs. Like he loves to held u in his arms. U can feel each other's warmth and he would sink his face either on top of head, in ur hair, at the crook of ur neck, just so he could sniff in ur scent.

• The type to always make sure ur shoes are facing towards u so u can easily just slip in ur foot into ur shoes every single time.

• Would also tie ur shoelaces for u anywhere, anytime. ("In a world of boys, he's a gentleman 🫶")

• He would also love to wear matching outfits. He would even lay out the perfect outfits for u. He really loves dressing u up too.

• I think he would be an honest and kind man too. Like when ur going out wearing a not so decent outfit, he would simply find some accessories like hats or anything else to brighten up ur looks more, rather than discriminating ur choice in fashion and telling u to change ur whole outfit. He would try and adjust ur things to always make sure ur comfortable with ur choices.

• Museum dates is a MUST. He'd be so excited to bring u any new exhibitions. And obvly his own exhibition, u came over to visit and brought him flowers to congratulate him. (That one scene in Nevertheless, iykyk🤧)

• When it come to listening music on a public transport, he'd rather use earphones instead of headphones or earbuds. Just so that he can share it with u so he's listening the same music as u, and also just tl be closer to u

[kimbappykidding]

Imagine The8 breaking up with you because he’s worried he can’t give you enough but him missing you

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay? You know she’s going to be there don’t you?" Scoups asked and The8 struggled not to roll his eyes for two reasons. One, the idea he wouldn’t be aware that you were going to be here and two that it hurt less if Scoups just avoided saying your name. However he knew he was just being prickly so he nodded "yeah I figured she'd be performing...don’t worry it'll be fine. 

The downside of dating a fellow idol was The8 ran into you all the time and as you were a part of the famous Mamamoo it made it practically impossible to avoid you. The8 was nervous all night waiting for your performance and when it started his eyes went to you straight away.

Your groups made their way through the crowd as planned interacting with idols. Wheein had a cute interaction with Twice, Solar with Red Velvet, Hwasa danced with an actress, Moonbyul got the thumbs up from BTS and the next table, your table, was...Seventeen. 

Your eyes went straight to The8 with his bright red hair and you thought this must be some sick joke. Solar noticed and her eyes went wide she motioned for you to just dance in front of you them but there wasn’t really any room! The group seemed to sense your problem and Joshua made eye contact with you and nodded telling you it was okay. He moved over to make room and so you came to stand by him. When the camera spun around you sang while Joshua nodded along and the others all joined in. It was only 5 seconds but it felt like an eternity. Finally it was over and Hwasa grabbed your hand pulling you along.

Once you moved away The8 relaxed. Jeonghan patted Joshua on the back to say well done for being kind but The8 just felt terrible. He saw the terror on your face when you realised the table you’d gotten and he hated that. He didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t be around his members, they knew you and liked you...plus he had no ill-will towards you really. Sure he still couldn’t listen to your music or look at you but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable because of him. It was all his fault not yours. 

You managed to get through the rest of your performance with no more ex-boyfriend mishaps and made it backstage. Solar grabbed you immediately and asked if you were okay. You nodded telling her you were fine and they all gave you space. You sat through the award show your mind only half there but finally it was the end. You were all lined up on stage and you noticed Seventeen immediately. The8 was on the opposite end to you which you were relieved about. You moved passed them and as you reached Joshua you lightly grabbed his arm "thank you so much for earlier". He smiled "no worries, well done on the great performance!". You thanked him and moved on unaware the whole thing was caught on camera. The next day The8 woke up to your name trending and he almost fell out of bed. Then he clicked on the tag and froze. It was all about you and Joshua. There was a clip from last night after the awards when you and Joshua were whispering to one another. It only lasted 10 seconds but you had a hand on his arm and everyone was going crazy. The8 knew you were probably just thanking Joshua for helping you, you were a good person like that but the fans were going crazy. They claimed it was obvious and had so many clips of the two of you "looking" at one another when in reality either you or The8 were always nearby. He knew he wasn’t with you anymore but he still found the idea of everyone shipping you with Joshua upsetting. He got up and got on with his day but when he saw Joshua, he did pause and had to remember it was just a rumour.  A few weeks later Seventeen went to an idol club after attending an award show. The8 wasn’t the nightclub type but Seventeen had won an award and he felt the members needed a celebration. The8 knew you were here in the club too but he also knew you wouldn’t come over to him so he was fine…or so he thought.

You were surprised to see The8 here of all places and of course he was the best-dressed person in the place. Your eyes went to him without meaning to and you hated how he still had this effect on you. You went to the bathroom to try and calm down a little but that was a bad idea. When you exited, you came around the corner and bumped straight into The8 himself. You both froze and apologised. "Sorry I should’ve been looking where I was going..." you said as he said "sorry I was going way too fast". Finally you both stopped and looked at one another before looking away again. It hurt to look at him and you just felt so pathetic. "Erm so how are you?” The8 asked. You looked at him, aware given that 2 months had passed you should probably be over him and moved on with your life. You should reply you were great and list all that had happened since you were apart but you didn’t want to. You weren’t over him and you just felt sad. "Oww you know..." you said awkwardly "what about you?". "I'm well thank you..." he said and you nodded "that's good". "Well I should go" you said awkwardly and The8 nodded "yes of course. Well i guess I'll see you around". You nodded "bye" and rushed off. The8 collapsed against the wall and put his head in his hands. You couldn’t even look at him and you’d practically run from him. He hated it.

His members soon worked out what happened and he was in a terrible mood all night so Hoshi and Scoups left early with him. They let him talk about how he was feeling and then Hoshi asked a very fair question. "Why did you two even break up?". The8 had never given them all a proper reason and even Scoups’ head bobbed up in interest. From their perspective everything had been going great, then The8 came home one day and announced you were over but never said more.

The8 sighed "it was complicated". Scoups nodded "well duh but what happened? You ended it right?". He nodded "we'd been struggling to see each other regularly. We’d planned to spend the summer together but then I got that opportunity to be a dance mentor". "Ahhh and Y/n told you not to go?" Hoshi asked. The8 shook his head "no she encouraged me to go. She said it was fine and we'd do our summer another time but we’d been saying that with so many things...with the Christmas we cancelled, when I missed her birthday, when the company suddenly pushed up my trip back home...i just felt like i couldn’t fully commit or give myself to her and i didn’t think it was fair. So I ended it".  Scoups and Hoshi paused "what did Y/n say?” Scoups asked. The8 sighed "she tried to fight it. She told me it didn’t matter how busy we were, we’d find a way and that she didn’t mind if the next time she saw me was in a week or 20 weeks just as long as there was a next time". Scoups nodded "wow". The8 nodded "but it wasn’t enough for me. I thought by breaking up with her I was being mature and doing the right thing but I'm not sure...I miss her so much and I still love her". 

"Do you want our opinions or encouragement" Scoups asked. "Opinions" The8 replied and Hoshi frowned "I think if you love her then that’s all that matters". Scoups nodded "I agree. I get why you did what you did but I think you were trying to solve a problem that wasn’t there. Y/n wasn’t upset you were. It's hard dating like this but as Hoshi said if you love her then that's all that matters. You'll find a way". The8 sighed "see but she hates me now". "She doesn't hate you" Scoups said sharply. "She does, tonight at the club she couldn’t even look me in the eye and she practically ran from me. And she had every right...". "You were only doing what you thought was best, plus it takes a big person to admit you've changed your mind" Hoshi pointed out. Scoups nodded  "yeah Y/n will appreciate that and I think she doesn’t hate you she’s just sad. That’s what you can see in her eyes, not hate". "But nothing changed...what if I freak and hurt her again?". Scoups shook his head "you won’t because you're going to always remember how this feels right here right now without her. Plus we’ll be here to remind you too". The8 sighed "I need to think about this when I'm not drunk". "That’s probably a good idea" Scoups nodded.

The first thing The8 thought of when he woke up the next morning was you. He knew you liked to lie in after a late night so you’d likely be fast asleep right now. He thought about how after events the two of you would leave the club early and go home to watch a movie. He’d usually fall asleep first and wake up to find the movie still running, you fast asleep curled up beside him. He’d stop it and then jump back in the warmth beside you. It was one of his favourite memories but now he was here alone and missing you. 

The8 had planned to have a shower and eat before doing something but he couldn’t wait any longer. So he abandoned his towel and sent the text.  

"Hey can we talk?". 

He waited anxiously by his phone for the first few minutes before walking away to get some food. When he came back and saw his phone notification light blinking he nearly dropped his cereal. Your text was there waiting for him. 

"About what?". 

He took a breath and typed his reply. 

"It’ll be easier to tell you in person, please can I see you?". 

It took you longer to respond this time but you finally did. 

"Okay, I'm home all today". 

The8 leapt up, he quickly texted back thanking you and told you he’d be over in an hour.

Meanwhile were panicking. Only an hour! You were laid in bed not in any state to see your ex. So you rushed to the bathroom and began prepping. You tried to imagine what The8 wanted to talk to you about but you could only think of one reason...he’d met someone else. That was the only thing that could make The8 sound so serious and it was so typical of him to do the “gentleman” thing and warn you about it. You wondered who his new partner was and were slightly bitter since he told you he couldn’t date because of his schedule. Clearly someone was just more worth his time than you. 

The8′s car showed up 50 minutes later and he parked but didn’t come in. You knew he was waiting until it was exactly an hour so he didn’t mess you up by being early and you sighed and opened the door. You caught his attention and gestured for him to come in. 

The8 hurried over and gave you a small awkward smile “I didn’t want to rush you if you weren’t ready”. You shook your head “it’s okay I just finished” which was a lie. You’d gotten ready in 15 minutes flat you were so worried he’d be early and had just been sat looking out of your window the whole time. The8 nodded and you led him into your living room where he took a seat. “Can I get you anything?” you asked him “some water or tea?”. He smiled when you said tea but shook his head “i’m okay” and you nodded but still didn’t sit down. “So I should probably explain” The8 said playing with his hands nervously “do you want to sit or stand?”. “I think i’ll stand if that’s okay” you replied and he nodded “of course”. He took a breath and started “so I broke up with you because I said I didn’t have enough time for us and that I couldn’t date with my career at the moment”. 

Here it was you thought, now he was going to point out the irony that he’d found someone else and tell you how it was somehow different. You took a breath and gripped the sleeve of your top. You wouldn’t react, you’d just nod, tell him it was okay and get him out of here as quickly as possible. You were so busy counting to three you didn’t properly hear what he said. 

“Now I’ve realised what a stupid idea that was”. 

You startled into movement “i’m sorry?” you asked. The8′s eyes flickered up to yours and he held them there “I was an idiot to break up with you and I’m here to ask if you’ll forgive me and give me another chance”. 

At that you did take a seat/practically fell back into the sofa. “I...but I don’t understand, has something changed?”. The8 paused “yes and no. No in that my work schedule hasn’t changed and my company will likely need me more as members start going off to military”. You nodded unsure what else to do. “But I’ve changed” he carried on “before I had ideas about how a relationship was meant to be and was so preoccupied with messing us up I just sabotaged everything. I was insecure and I projected that onto you. I know now I was being foolish and I’ve missed you every day since we broke up. You’ve been on my mind constantly and I know now I’ll never meet anyone like you. I was the luckiest man and I ruined all that. I acknowledge all the pain I’ve caused you and I will be eternally sorry. I never wanted to hurt you and will spend the rest of my life making it up to you...if you’ll let me of course”. 

He finished his speech and silence fell. He was watching you cautiously and you took a few breaths “I wasn’t expecting this”. He nodded “it’s a lot to take in, don’t feel you have to respond straight away”. You nodded and tried to process everything he was saying. He wanted you back? He’d changed his mind? “I’m just unsure” you admitted “it’s been 2 months which isn’t ages but it’s a substantial amount to be apart, why now?”. The8 shrugged “in truth I didn’t feel good with it when I first made the decision but I figured that was just normal for a break-up. When that persisted after three weeks and four...and five, I finally realised those feelings meant something. My unhappiness, how much I missed you...how much I still love you” he said softly “those things weren’t going anywhere and that’s when I knew I had to do something. I’m sorry i’m so late but I knew I had to try”. 

You paused “you still love me?”. The8 nodded “of course I do, I think no matter what happens I always will. You’re very important to me Y/n”. You blushed and The8 took that as a good sign. “You can ask me all the questions you want, tell me off for anything i’ve done. I’m willing to accept anything”. You nodded “I just have one...will you finally let me borrow your suits?”. You smiled and The8 paused “does this mean...”. “Yes” you nodded “I want to get back together...if you let me wear your suits”. The8 grinned “you can have them all as gifts” he cried and rushed to hug you. You laughed as he threw his arms around you and squeezed you tightly, his careful resolve now gone thanks to his joy. You hugged him back and told yourself this wasn’t a dream. It was all real. 

The8 seemed to be thinking the same thing as when he pulled away he smiled at you “thank you Y/n. You won’t regret this I promise”. “I know” you nodded. 

The8 returned home later with a huge smile on his face and all the members could guess why and were thrilled...because they’d got their The8 back. 

[stayteezdreams]

No More Waiting

Plot: While attending a Halloween party, Minghao seems to be on a mission, and it revolves around you.

Pairing: Xu Minghao x Gn!Reader

Prompts/Request: 'Wearing the same costume to a costume party' + "Did you match with my costume on purpose?" + “Trick or treat!?” “…Depends on if you’re the treat or not.” & "If your get scared you can hold onto me." "Oh you'd love that wouldn't you?" "Very much."

Requested By: @brattybunfornct

Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol

Words: 2.6k

A/n: This is the final release of my 13 Days of Halloween (masterlist here). Thank you all for the feedback, reblogs, likes, etc!! <3 You'd think the final Halloween post would be more Halloween focused, but it's not lol.

Minghao checked over his costume in the mirror once more as he let out a deep breath. While the others paced around, making sure enough drinks were prepared, and Mingyu yelled at Hoshi for not buying enough food, Minghao had something much different to worry about.

All week he had been planning. Planning how to act around you, planning what to say, planning what to wear. And it was all taking place tonight. He knew it could all go wrong. Things might not work the way he wanted, but he didn't care, as long as it ended the way he wanted.

With a confession. Hopefully a reciprocated one at that.

Minghao knew he liked you, hell, he might even be in love with you, but what he didn't know, was how to tell you. He tried flirting, but it never came across as genuine. Your friendship was based in part a friendly and teasing relationship. So of course you never really knew if what he was saying was genuine.

He thought he would be okay with it, trying to believe that it would all happen naturally. And it seemed that it was heading that way. Until he showed up.

Ji-Yoo. A sibling of a friend who moved to the city. Minghao had no problem with Ji-Yoo, up until he started to flirt with you, and you took notice. After that, to Minghao, he was an enemy.

This was the catalyst that finally encouraged Minghao to properly confess to you. So, he made the plan.

Step One, steal your costume idea.

You had told him all about what you were going to dress up as. Minghao chuckled as you told him of your Tim Burton inspired outfit and makeup, all the while he made sure to buy everything he needed to match with you. That way, you would appear as a couple at the party.

Step two, keep Ji-Yoo away from you.

Make sure Ji-Yoo had no opportunity to try and win you over or sway you. Be a nuisance around him, so he cannot stand being around the two of you.

Step three, flirt.

Flirt in ways you weren't used to. Flirt in front of people you know and don't know. Especially in front of Ji-Yoo.

Step four, confess.

He didn't know exactly when he was going to confess. He hoped to get you alone at some point in the night, but he realized that might prove difficult.

He had to admit, it wasn't the most detailed plan, but it was a start. His chest was tight as he let out a few deep breaths as a few people showed up for the party. Minghao kept watch at the door, intending to answer when you arrived.

When he caught sight of your fully skelefied costume through the window, he grinned as he walked to the door, waiting for you to knock.

As he pulled the door open, your familiar voice called out, making Minghao grin.

"Trick or Treat!?"

Minghao eyed you up and down as he smirked “…Depends on if you’re the treat or not.”

You rolled your eyes softly, "You wish."

'I do.' He thought to himself as he smirked, as he saw you look over his costume, realization crossing your features.

You stepped up to him, "Wha-"

He rose his brow, feigning innocence. "What?"

"Did you match my costume on purpose?" You accused.

Grabbing your wrist, he gently lead you inside as you gawked at him.

"Seriously Minghao! You knew this was my costume, now it's gonna look like we're wearing a couples costume!"

He smiled at you and you felt your stomach swirl. "What's so wrong with that?"

You were a bit stunned, and you thought you saw something beneath the teasing gaze, something more genuine. Before you could respond, you heard your voice called by an excited and already buzzed Hoshi.

He grabbed your wrist and started rambling about how Mingyu was angry at him, before he pulled you off towards the kitchen. Minghao tried to grab your hand to pull you away, but Hoshi won as you disappeared into the kitchen.

Minghao let out a frustrated groan. Apparently he should have added 'keep everyone away from you' to his plan.

You ended up mingling with the others in the kitchen for a while, but your thoughts continued to stray to Minghao. Something about the way he looked at you, and the way he was acting was different than normal.

When he came into the kitchen a few minutes after you did, he seemed to glare at the others who held your attention. A few times it seemed as though he was tying to get your attention, or steal you away from the others, but he failed, and he only seemed to grow more annoyed each time.

The thoughts of why he might be acting like this made you nervous.

You had realized quite a while ago, that your feelings for Minghao had changed. You didn't just look at him as a friend, or even your best-friend, he was Minghao, the man who made your heart flutter. The man who made you feel safe and loved. The man who unabashedly and unknowingly held your heart in his hands.

But you had no doubt in your mind that he did not feel the same. It hurt, but you accepted it. And you tried to move on from it. But now you weren't so sure if you should have moved on at all.

At some point, the kitchen became so crowded, you made your way out and into the living room. You hadn't gotten far when you were approached by someone in a werewolf mask. When removed, you were met with Ji-Yoo's beaming smile.

You smiled and greeted him, aware that you were now going to be bombarded with flirtatious comments that you would have to not so skillfully play-off.

Ji-Yoo was sweet and attractive, and would be what you would consider your type a few years ago. But now, no one was good enough. Because none of them were Minghao.

When Minghao noticed you had vanished from the kitchen, he quickly made his way to find you. He had lost more time than he wanted, he needed to make up for it.

When he did spot you in the living room, he smiled naturally at the sight of you, before he noticed who it was who had your attention.

He flared his nostrils with an annoyed sigh as he made his way towards the two of you. When he heard your giggle meet his ears, he felt jealousy rise in his chest.

Minghao not-so-subtly inserted himself into your conversation as he slid in beside you, his shoulder pressing against you as he grinned at you, announcing his presence.

Ji-Yoo's smile faltered as he appeared, and Minghao simply smiled at him, smacking his shoulder and giving him an disingenuous greeting.

He saw Ji-Yoo look down at your matching costumes and smirked proudly.

You did not fail to notice Minghao's sudden brazen behavior, or the fake smile plastered on his face. You knew it well enough to spot a mile away.

You were shocked to see him acting this way towards someone you thought he considered a friend. You couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was jealous. But you tried not to linger on the thought too long. You didn't want to over-think yourself into a false sense of confidence, only to be brokenhearted later.

It didn't take long before you were unable to take any more of Ji-Yoo and Minghao's weird behavior. They eyed each other as if enemies and seemed to try and one up each other in every conversation. They spoke as if they were friends, but the passive aggression and sarcasm made the air around you thick with tension.

To say it got annoying was an understatement. You didn't know what their problem with each other was, but you had figured Minghao didn't want you to be friends with him for whatever reason.

Spotting another friend of yours, you decided to exit the conversation, much to Minghao and Ji-Yoo's surprise and disappointment.

You managed to avoid both Minghao and Ji-Yoo for the rest of the party as you did not want to get caught in the middle of their problems again. Even though -unbeknownst to you at this moment- you were the problem.

Relief filled you when you saw Ji-Yoo leave the party. Now it was just you and the boys, lingering in the now-emptied, yet trashed house.

Minghao noticed you from across the room when you entered and you saw relief wash over his face.

As he approached you, he smiled, "I thought you had left."

You shook your head, "I was gonna help clean up."

Hoshi groaned from the couch, "I'm too hungry to clean."

"Well you wouldn't be hungry if you had brought food to the party like you were supposed to!" Seungcheol's voice called from the kitchen and you chucked.

Hoshi hissed under his breath before he responded. "I did bring food!"

"You brought three bags of chips and some beer!" Mingyu yelled back and Hoshi pouted.

You chuckled at them before you realized you were hungry yourself. "I'm up for a store run if you want Hoshi."

He looked over at you with bright happy eyes and you knew his answer.

"I'll come!" Minghao glared over at Jun and Joshua, who spoke at the same time as him.

Minghao had failed his mission to spend the party with you. He let his annoyance at Ji-Yoo chase you away, and he knew he messed up. He noticed you avoiding Ji-Yoo and felt ecstatic about it. Up until he realized you were avoiding him too.

He messed it all up and he knew it. He was hoping a walk with you would help, but now, as he walked beside you, the loud voices of Jun, Joshua, Jeonghan, Dino and Mingyu echoed down the street as you all made your way to the store.

The silence that had been lingering between you and Minghao was broken when a loud crash in the dark street nearby made you gasp and flinch.

Minghao laughed at your reaction, ignoring the fact that his own heart jolted in surprise.

You glared over at him playfully before chuckling.

As the others had gotten quite a ways ahead of you, Minghao thought that now might be his opportunity. He watched you as you eyed the dark streets around you, now on edge.

Minghao gasped in your ear and you yelped in surprise, making him laugh.

"Minghao!" You yelled as you smacked his shoulder, only making him laugh more. "Don't do that to me!" You tried to sound angry, but you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you.

A loud yell from someone nearby caught you by surprise, making you jump again. You ran to the other side of Minghao, who laughed at your expense.

You smacked his arm again. "Stop!" You whined.

"If you're scared you can hold onto me." He said with a smirk and you huffed.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Very much."

The way his eyes seemed to stare into you without his familiar teasing smirk, made your heart flutter.

He let out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulled you into his chest, hugging you and pressing a kiss to your head.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

You were left in stunned silence for a moment before you finally found your voice again. "Why are you acting so differently?"

Minghao pulled away from you, looking down at you with a soft gaze.

So you did notice.

"What do you mean?

You shrugged your head softly. "I don't know, you're just being..." You let out a soft sigh of frustration. "I don't know how to explain it."

He smiled widely at you and you pointed at him.

"See! That right there!"

He widened his eyes a bit as he let out a bewildered laugh. "What?!"

"The way you're looking at me it's- it's different. You're doing it on purpose I know it! Why?"

His smile softened as he moved his hands to take yours. He gently caressed your fingers as he stared at your hands. You felt your heartbeat racing as he took a step closer.

"I figured I needed to be more obvious for you to finally realize."

"Realize what?"

His eyes rose to your face and you saw him study your face for a moment. He took in your features, including your lips, which you did not fail to notice.

"How much I care about you. Not just as a friend."

"Wha-"

Your words were cut off as Minghao pulled you towards him suddenly. You froze as his lips met yours. His hands gently rose up your hands, to your arms and then shoulders as he kissed you softly. Just as you started to sink into the kiss, he pulled away.

You blinked a few times as he opened his own eyes, staring gently at you with a soft smile.

"You kissed me." You mumbled in surprise.

He smiled. "I kissed you."

He reached up and gently stroked your cheek.

"And I want to do it again, a thousand times. Honestly I've wanted to for ages. I think- no, I know that I've had feelings for you for a long time. And I couldn't hold back anymore, especially when I thought I might lose you."

Realization suddenly washed over you and your mind flashed back to earlier at the party.

"Is this why you and Ji-Yoo were so tense around each other earlier?" You suddenly asked and Minghao let out a soft laugh as he nodded his head.

"Yes. I'm sorry it got so tense, I just hated the idea of him stealing you away from me."

He looked down at his feet and you smiled softly.

"No one could do that Minghao."

His eyes shot up to meet yours, and you let out a soft laugh. "Why do you think I haven't even attempted to date anyone in the last few years?"

Minghao felt hope rising in his chest and he furrowed his brow in hopefully confusion.

You smiled bashfully. "Because I only ever wanted you."

Minghao stepped closer and pressed his forehead against yours as he grinned."Not Ji-Yoo?"

You chuckled and shook your head, "No, not Ji-Yoo, just you."

"Good."

He grinned as he kissed you again, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close to him. This time, instead of freezing, you returned the kiss, as your chest burned hot and butterflies turned into fireworks.

Neither of you were aware of the approaching group, who you had forgotten about, until you heard a familiar voices gasp out dramatically.

"They're kissing!!" Joshua yelled.

You broke apart as you looked over at the dramatically surprising, yet grinning faces of your friends who started to grab at each other and gasp.

You laughed as Minghao rolled his eyes, gesturing at them to go away.

"And here we thought one of you got hurt or something!" Jun yelled with a fake disgust on his face as he pulled at Jeonghan who had his eyes covered.

They started to head back towards the store, throwing various comments at the two of you as they disappeared.

The last voice you heard was Mingyu's, "Took you long enough Minghao!"

Minghao yelled out into the darkness after them, "Shut up!"

You laughed as he shook his head with annoyance before he pulled you to his chest, staring into your eyes as your noses bushed.

"It did take me way too long." He admitted softly.

You shook your head, "I thought I had convinced myself to move on, thinking you would never feel the same way for me, but honestly I think I could have waited forever."

He grinned before he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "No more waiting."

You shook your head with a soft smile, as you repeated his words as joy filled both of you.

"No more waiting."

xx End xx

I got writers block like four times while trying to write this, so I'm sorry if it's not the best :/ I really wanted it to come out better.

But, that being said. This was the final part to my 13 Days of Halloween, and I hope you all enjoyed it!

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Minghao Taglist: @lieutenantn

[wheeboo]

whatever you want, my angel | xu minghao

SYNOPSIS. in which your boyfriend calls you a term of endearment from his native tongue. PAIRING. xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a little bit of humour, established relationship WARNINGS. a singular kiss WORD COUNT. 845

requested by anon: Hey congratulations 🎉 on 2k! Hope you grow more (Ik you will!)! Fighting! 💓I wanted to request Minghao + #32 from List 1 (Fluff Dialogue Prompts)💖💖💖 - #32: "Did you just call me (pet name)?”

notes: hao looks so angelic in those photos i found omg going crazy. anyway, thank u sm lovely i hope u enjoy this 🥹🫶 short but cute hehe. this was the first thing ive written in 2 weeks sorry 😭😭

join the 2k celebration!

"Just a few more minutes, tiánxīn."

You never thought you could spin your head around as fast as now, eyes locking on your boyfriend casually stirring a spoon in a pot on the stove, low hums escaping his lips as if he was minding his own business.

Though as you get yourself to squint your eyes, you notice the extremely subtle curve that he has to his lips while the steam swirls around his head.

"Repeat that."

"Hm?" Minghao perks his head back up, eyelashes batting together innocently. "Did I say something?"

You place a hand at your hip, cocking your head to the side as you point a finger accusingly at him. "That. That nickname. Did you... did you just call me tyenshan?"

Minghao nearly bursts into a chuckle at your mushy pronunciation, and you feel your face growing red from the slight embarrassment. He bites his bottom lip, trying to stifle his amusement, and reaches over for the lid to cover over the pot before turning to face you with a small smirk.

"Tiánxīn."

You blink at him, still a bit puzzled. "Tyanshin? Tyen..."

Minghao just quietly watches as you struggle to grapple with the unfamiliar term. There's a hint of teasing in his eyes, but also a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. He wipes his hands on a towel before stepping up to you, letting an arm sneakily wrap around your waist to pull you towards him.

The sudden closeness steals your breath for a moment. Minghao's arm feels warm and secure around your waist, and you can smell the faint scent of spices clinging to him from his cooking. Yet his gaze at you is filled with nothing but affection, even under the dim lighting of the kitchen light, and you can't help but melt into his touch.

"Sweetheart," he mutters casually. "That's what it means."

Your eyes grow wide momentarily, as if taking in the weight of the singular term of endearment. It's such a simple word, yet the way he says it𑁋with such tenderness and a hint of playfulness𑁋sends a warmth radiating through you.

You feel your fingers knead lightly at the fabric of his shirt at his side, and a curl passes through your lips as you get yourself to lock gazes with him.

"Can you say it again?" You ask again, a teasing tone to your voice.

MInghao just chuckles. "Tiánxīn𑁋"

He's cut off when he feels your lips softly press against his. The contact is all too brief, and nearly has him chasing after your mouth when you part away from him. There's a mischievous look blanketed to your features, but he finds himself still caught in a daze at whatever boldness you just unleashed.

"I like the sound of it," You say wistfully. "Tell me another one."

Minghao lifts a brow. He has no idea what you're trying to plot (if anything), but he complies nonetheless.

"Wǒ de tiānshǐ," he murmurs, voice soft yet confident as he gazes into your eyes. "My angel."

Your heart seems to do a tumble and a flip simultaneously in your chest, and grasping onto the urge to teasingly rebuttal seems to dissipate away right under his eyes and his cute ass smile. You can feel your feet practically melt into the floor below, and you resist the need bury your face into his shoulder out of pure, giddy shyness.

"Oh," You mumble bashfully, heat crawling up your neck and to the tips of your ears. "Hao..."

"Ah, and another one," he jests, and you perk up once more. "Bèndàn."

"Bèndàn?" You repeat right after him, before letting out a feigned gasp. "Wait, dàn? Aren't you literally calling me an egg?"

"Mhm," Minghao answers charmingly. "My beautiful, silly little egg."

An airy scoff escapes your lips, the tension dissipating into hearty laughter bouncing off the walls as you swat playfully at his chest with a hand, making Minghao bring his arms up to shield away from your playful attacks.

"Alright, alright," he utters out between breaths as he steps his way back to the stove. "I'm sorry, you know I don't mean it."

All you do is roll your eyes before placing yourself directly behind him and letting your arms wrap around his waist. You nuzzle your cheek against his back, closing your eyes for a few moments to relish the comfort of his warmth coursing through you, a few contented sighs leaving your mouth. You could probably stay in this position for hours and not get tired of it; his presence enough seems to soften away whatever worries you had throughout the day.

"Call me that more often."

Minghao just grins. "What? Bèndàn?"

"I𑁋No!" You lightly flick him with your finger. "Just... more of those other ones, please?"

Minghao lets out a soft chuckle, the rumble travelling through his chest and sending shivers down your spine. He swiftly turns off the heat to the stove, then reaches down to gently squeeze your hand where it rests on his stomach.

"Of course, tiánxīn," he replies softly, affectionately. "Whatever you want, wǒ de tiānshǐ."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

@mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23

@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk

[moonstarhui]

through the phone

Pairings: afab!reader x minghao Warnings: smut, masturbation, phone sex 

───────────────────────────────────

How could you have expected that you would be having phone sex, just because of a single story your boyfriend, Minghao, posted?

Going back and forth from one app to another while simply scrolling through your phone. After all, it was a dull afternoon.

You almost put your phone down after yawning when you unexpectedly received a notification that Minghao had tagged you in his Instagram story. Even though you were tired, you contemplated checking it when you woke up, but curiosity won out.

what a bad decision…

Tapping the notification, you were baffled with what you just saw. How can your boyfriend just post something like this?

It was you on his lap, inside the dressing room. Pants discarded and you remembered too well what you felt when that picture was taken. His erected bulge against your heat. Of course, it did end up with him fucking you. Before you even know it, you already feel yourself getting tensed and feeling that wet sensation beneath you.

You replied to his story :

baobei???

minghao is typing . . .

do you not like it?

should i delete it?

NO

it’s just

nothing nvm

what’s wrong?

nothingg

say it

baby you know i’m just human ahhaha

brb

whyy i wanna talk to you 

:(

can i call?

You knew you were doomed if he rings you up, but you also knew you could never say no to him. How could you? He was missing you, but he was clueless with the effect he has on you. Groaning, how can he call you when you want to touch yourself so fucking bad.

You've made the decision to reply to him, you're completely unaware that it's been five minutes since you last left him on seen.

unless you wanna hear me fuck my fingers, sure

oh

why not ask me to fuck you

i’m impatient and need it now, you’re like 20 minutes away from me

hmm.. okay

go do your thing

you want me to join you? joke lol

sure :)

You told yourself that it was just a joke, but a part of you did wish that he would call. The ringing of your phone hit you back to reality, fuck he’s really calling, huh?

You answered the phone, shuffling around on your bed trying to get comfy.

“Hey.” you said, but more of coming out as a whisper.

“Hi” he replied turning on his camera.

Of course he’s fucking shirtless.

Removing every piece of clothing you had except your underwear, more than ready to fuck your fingers. “Fuck, you’re really testing me.”

His voice was stern, lust visible in his tone. “Turn your cam on, baobei.”

You turned your camera on and placed your phone on the bedside table, your boobs flashed on his screen. He licks his lips, definitely aroused with what he’s seeing and you can hear him whisper “gorgeous” under his breath.

“Go touch yourself, baby.”

“Oh, I fucking will.”

You began to squeeze one of your mounds with one hand while simultaneously reaching down with the other to touch your clothed pussy and sticking one of your fingers inside of yourself.

Minghao groaned with just hearing your light moans which eventually made him start palming himself through his sweatpants. “Move the camera so I can see all of you.”

You fixed the position of your camera, moving it farther so he can see every inch of skin you have, and proceeds with rubbing yourself through the lace.

It was one thing for Minghao not to be there to please you — but him grunting into the microphone made you feel even more helpless.

Your hand traveled all the way to the inner of your laced underwear.  Visions of him clouding your mind.

His lips turned up in corners, proud that he can make you this wet with just the thought of him. He hummed and rubbed his shaft, still wanting it to be you giving him this pleasure. “Good… you’re touching yourself so well huh?”

Getting your phone, you wanted to show him your amorous actions. You positioned the camera between your legs, showing all of your cunt to the camera and continued rubbing your folds. “Wonder who could’ve gotten me this wet.”

“I haven’t even done anything, baobei. What more when I ruin you later, hmm?”

Heavy breaths filled your room, thrusting your fingers in and out of your clit. Lewd noises every time your fingers go deep down you. You squeezed your boobs, nibbling with your nipples and trying to picture it was Minghao who is playing with your body.

“Show me how you are right now, Minghao” You plead wanting to see the state of your boyfriend who is in no better condition than you.

He moved the camera upwards, showing all of him. His eyes closed, lips getting bruised from biting, hand rubbing his dick. Oh what a sight for sore eyes.

His grunts made you envious, wishing that it was your hand making him moan out those pretty noises, instead of his.

“Want your lips on my pussy right now, you to eat me out.”

“Do you me to come over after? Fuck you into your mattress while you be the good girl you are?” He managed to laugh out between his whimpers.

You practically begged for him to come over, feeling pitiful of yourself for being so weak for him, for wanting him so bad that you can’t even manage to be a tiny bit patient for him to get to your place. No, you needed him as fast as you can, even if the means would be displaying both of yourselves in the camera.

You hear him moaning your name, fuck him I swear (you wished). “Do you not have any toys?”

You get your phone and hold it above you, flashing your boobs while you squish them making him groan.

“I do, do you wanna see me use them?” You chuckled out, watching him react to the way you’re playing with your breasts.

He smiled. “go on, use your favorite one.”

You placed down your phone back on your nightstand, opening your drawer to reveal your vibrator that you haven’t used in awhile. I mean, you had no purpose for using it, your boyfriend was there to give you more than enough sex (not that you were complaining).

You laid back on your bed and turned on the said toy, “This doesn’t make me feel as good as you though.”

“I know, baobei” he murmured, “Your toy can’t even come close to how good I make you feel.”

You looked at him, still seeing him rubbing himself. “Can you spit on your hand and rub it for me? Only rub your shaft until I tell you that you can touch yourself.”

He did as what you told him to, rubbing it on the tip of his cock and spreading it all over. “Fuck, if only this was your spit.”

This made you grow wetter, moaning to his words.

“You sound so pretty, my baby.”

Hissing at the sudden feeling of your vibrator entering you, you start moving it and told him to start pumping himself.

Minghao followed you, still groaning and moaning your name. “I’m really close what the fuck, you got me so hard.”

“Eye contact when you finish, baby.”

From being the one who was extremely horny and was practically drooling, to him following your orders. How ironic. You increased the speed on your toy, thrusting it in as much as you can while looking at your boyfriend. This made you clench and realized that the knots in your stomach are getting harder to hold in. “Baby, I’m gonna cum soon.”

His breath got heavier as his noise becomes gradually louder, and getting ahold of his phone. He showed you his torso, and the way his cum lands on his abs as he chuckled, “This should’ve been your mouth, baby.”

You whimpered his name as you finished, wetting your sheets and telling him how much you need him.

He hummed as you dropped and attempted to regain your breath, “Let me get my keys and I’ll be on my way to you. See you in a bit, baobei.”

He smiled and cut you off before you could respond, leaving you speechless.

Your body remained stunned.

he’s coming over already?

Before you even got to gather your thoughts, you suddenly heard the doorbell rang.

:P

[gguksgalaxy]

4:38pm | Minghao 1k

Fluff (very very slightly suggestive), requested by anonymous, request me here

info: I didn't have much in mind for this so I'm not really satisfied but I still hope that you like it!

Minghao’s apartment is quiet when you enter. That's how it seem at first. Upon further inspection, you can hear his shower running. His shoes by the door tell you that it indeed is him and not one of his roommates. Good. You’re looking for a quiet place to study, and your boyfriend was about the only person who knew how to actually be quiet when you asked. 

Or so you thought. 

About 30 minutes later he finds you sitting cross-legged at his living room table. Bent deeply over your anthropology book. He chuckles under his breath. Before you can even look up at him, you feel water drip onto the back of your neck. 

You squeal. “Minghao!” You look up to find him behind you with his hair still wet from the shower.

He laughs now, bending over you and closing your book. “I think that’s enough anthology for today.” 

“Anthropology,” you correct. “I have an exam in three days.” 

“And you’ve been studying non-stop for almost a week now. Enough is enough, babe.” He looks down at you, keeping his finger on top of your book in order to keep it closed. “You can argue with me, but I know you just reread the same paragraph 10 times and haven’t picked up a single thing.” 

You frown. “How long have you been watching me?” 

“Long enough to make tea,” he says, motioning towards the kitchen behind him. “Come on, you need a break. Didn’t you get up at six this morning?”

“Five,” you mumble in return. 

Your boyfriend fights the urge to roll his eyes and you push him back still. “Hey! Don’t shove me!” He steadies himself on your shoulders. “Listen, taking one evening away from that ancestry book of yours really won’t hurt anybody. Definitely not your poor boyfriend who’s feeling awfully neglected.” He gives you his version of puppy dog eyes. Big eyes, pursed lips, slightly raised eyebrows. It’s always a challenge and a plea. 

Today had been a long, tiring day. He had been right, about you staring at the page unable to read. Maybe he’s right about this too. Maybe you do need a night off. Just a bit of relaxation. 

“I can see the cogwheels turning in your pretty little head,” he muses. “I’ll get the tea.” 

“Hao,” you trail as he walks off. 

“I know, no sugar.” 

You chuckle. “Bring me something to eat.” 

He stops, shooting you a glare over your shoulder. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“Uh,” you think, “do peanuts count?”

“I’m whooping your ass when I get back.” 

You’re still smiling at him when he comes back. “You know that you’re the best boyfriend ever, right?”

He sits down beside you, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your year. “I know, but that doesn’t mean I won’t judge you for not eating.” 

You sigh. “Listen, I just forgot, and I was too lazy to find anything to eat on campus.” 

Minghao sighs, fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair. “I know you don’t want me to baby you but I’m seriously considering making you packed lunch.”

“I’ll be back to normal when exam season is over,” you shrug. 

He shakes his head, kissing your cheek again. “Just want you to take care of yourself.” 

You nod, leaning into him. He’s always been attentive, and he can get a bit aggressive about it when he wants you. Like, he will respect you when you want space, but he will also nag at you to take care of yourself until you do. Just a little. With a lot of love. He has made you realise that taking time off is important. It’s just that when you get stressed, you tend to forget. Which is why you’re so grateful to have him. 

He cuddles closer to you, leaning back against the couch. “So, what are we doing?”

“I don’t mind. You’re the neglected boyfriend, you pick an activity,” you tease.

Minghao is so beautiful like this. When he’s not trying. Not that he isn’t always, but there is something so ethereal about him when he’s not paying any mind to it himself. The slope of his jawline, the taunt stretch of his neck as he scans the room for something to do. 

“I mean…,” he trails off, looking back at you with a hint of mischief. You recognise that look all too well.

“No,” you deadpan. “I am way too tired for any of that.”

He laughs, nuzzling into your shoulder when you try to pull away from him. "I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I just showered.” 

You yawn, and in return, so does he. “If you can’t think of anything I will go back to reading my anthropology book.” 

Minghao whines, shaking you. “Anything but that stupid analogy book.”

“Stop mocking it!” 

“I will when it stops receiving more attention than me.” 

“You are such a baby sometimes!” you accuse mid laughter. 

He shrugs. “I like to accept and show all facets of my personality.”

“How philosophical of you good sir. Now please choose an activity or I will simply choose to nap on you.” You sprawl out in his lap, not really caring that you’re on the floor. His rug is much softer than his couch anyway. “You have literally 30 seconds before I pass out, I’m warning you.” 

Minghao groans, shifting your body and before you know it you’re hauled onto the couch. “Fine, nap, but not on the fucking floor.”

“I bet the floor’s seen less fucking than the couch,” you counter with one eye open.

He stops midway sliding in next to you, grimacing. “You have a fair point. Bed it is.” 

Request me here | © GguksGalaxy 2018 - 2023

[17caratrecs]

minghao * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

felix felicis by @blue-jisungs

୨୧ 7k words

we shouldn't have ended like this by @shuaraes

୨୧ 1.3k words

[lololololchips]

Hi babes its me 😁🤞 I saw how your reqs are open again so here i am😈

SO... minghao trying to soft launch a rs to svt😁

(I just wanted to add this for no reason)

this took so damn long IM SORRY BABE😔😔 but here it is after centuries sigh HOPE U LIKE IT:)))

(also that pic made me laugh LMAOOOO)

Xu Minghao || in which revealing a relationship is never easy…

synopsis: in which revealing a relationship is never easy especially if you’re in a very chaotic boy band

genre: one shot smau, fake texts, idol x non!idol, fluff, smau

warnings: cursing, fem pronouns, svt being chaotic as usual