#minghao angst
Text
— ✧ flight of the stars
"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."
you go following flights to the stars, and these cars can get us home (zayn)
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff
description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.
tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, sollie, cheol, wonu, & hannie
w/c: 13.3k
fic playlist
a/n: oh. always thank u to @gyuswhore for helping me w this, and special smooches to han for going over this w me too ^^
smut tags. oral (m receiving), pet names (baby)
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Cheol is going to kill Minghao when he finds out he somehow managed to screw himself over while training. Well, only if Minghao doesn’t kill himself first.
It was just supposed to be a regular session, doing some standard neck exercises with Wonwoo, his training partner. General training shit—you know, the stuff Minghao needs to do so his neck doesn’t snap in half the next time he races and then—pang! Pain flares up in his muscles when Wonwoo adjusts the controls on the harness around Minghao’s head a little harder, the latter losing his form in a moment of unexpectancy.
His hand flies up immediately Wonwoo stops, shutting off the controls and loosening the tether attached to Minghao’s harness, releasing all the tension. “Are you good?” he asks, taking a step closer as he takes in the sight of the racer.
Wonwoo’s heart sinks into his chest when he finds Minghao’s head and neck unmoving, staring straight down as his breaths begin to grow shaky, and—crap, his eyes are glossy and—oh fuck, Wonwoo might just shit his pants.
“Hao—” Wonwoo calls out again, this time his voice drenched with worry as he reaches out to try and untie the harness from around his friends head, but as his hand brushes over the back of his neck, Minghao shifts a little and that’s when Wonwoo hears it—a sharp gasp following by Minghao muttering under his breath:
“G-get the medic.”
His voice is labored and Wonwoo knows exactly what to do and nothing at the same time. His mind is racing because holy crap, SECTOR probably just lost their best racer for a few months, if not the entire racing season, and it’s all because of this stupid neck training session, and—Wonwoo stops himself from thinking about what this means for Minghao’s work and forces himself to scramble back, running out of the training room and down to the nursing hall.
Five minutes and several phone calls later, Minghao is being loaded into a stretcher. He doesn’t say a word though, doesn’t know what to say.
Five hours and even more phone calls later, Minghao is sitting up with a brace around his neck, and his manager and friends around his hospital bed (Wonwoo and Hasnsol are to his left while Seungcheol stands on his right).
“So you’re telling me I won’t be able to compete for the rest of the season?” Minghao finally scoffs out after a couple minutes’ worth of silence in tense air.
“We don’t know that yet,” Cheol responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the racer carefully. Minghao’s lips are curved down in a heavy frown but his eyes remain unwavering as he finally looks up at his manager.
“Fuck,” he breaths out.
“Does it hurt a lot?” Hansol asks worriedly, and Minghao knows that his friend is only just concerned for him but all the pain and frustration is already starting to bubble up inside of him.
“Like a bitch,” he mutters bitterly.
Seungcheol sighs deeply, stepping closer to the bed. He knows the situation isn’t easy for Minghao—it isn’t easy for anyone—and he’s aware of the stakes involved for the team. “Hao, you know we’ll do anything to get you back on the track as soon as possible.”
Minghao scoffs, not meeting the eyes of his manager. “Yeah. I know.”
Wonwoo nearly flinches at the stillness of his friend’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he finally says loudly, causing the other three in the room to look at him. “I messed up with the controls—it’s my fault, and I—”
“It’s fine,” Minghao huffs, tearing his eyes away from his friend. “It was an accident.”
It’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine at all and—
Deep breaths, Minghao reminds himself, but when he actually starts to think about the ache that blooms from his neck and down his spine, it gets harder and harder to keep his cool. He feels like he’s ‘bout to pop a vein from all the blood that’s rushing through his body, the only thing snapping him out of his trance being Wonwoo’s voice.
“You’ll start seeing a physiotherapist tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Best to start the recovery process early, Minghao thinks to himself, mildly calming his irritation. He purses his lips, trying to navigate the cluster of thoughts that plague his mind until he finally musters up the courage to ask, “How long is it gonna take? T-to heal?”
His friends look at him solemnly, and Minghao feels his heart sink right down to his stomach.
“We don’t know.”
“You already sa—” Minghao stops himself from saying something he might regret. “Could I actually be out the whole season?”
There’s silence until Cheol finally decides to speak up.
“There’s a chance.”
Minghao thinks he might scream.
“Hey Seungie!” you chirp, walking into the reception of your office with a bright smile. Your best friend greets you with only an eye roll as you approach his counter at the front, peeking at him from over his monitor.
“I told you to stop calling me that in public!” he whines, nose scrunched up as you laugh at the way he’s pouting.
“No one’s even here, no one’ll hear anything,” you try to reason as he huffs and turns away, refusing to look at you.
“Still!”
You sigh, putting down a brown bag on the floor before raising your hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, I’m sorry.”
“Are you really?”
This time, you roll your eyes. “Yes … Seungie—”
“I hate you!” Seungkwan roars as you double over laughing. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I’m officially disowning you as my best friend.”
You gasp, stepping back and picking up the brown bag again. “Are you kidding me? And here I thought I would’ve liked to share one of my Americanos with you but I guess not …” you sigh dramatically, starting to walk away as you lift the bag to wave it in Seungkwan’s face.
“I was just joking! Come back! How could I disown you as my best friend—c’mon, you know I was just joking,” he pleads from behind you.
You grin as you turn around and walk back to him with a grin. “You’re horribly unpersuasive. Like your acting skills are actually an abomination,” you tell him, pulling out one of the cups of the cold drink and handing it to Seungkwan. “You’re lucky I love you,” you continue, laughing a little as Seungkwan snatches the cup away hastily with a bashful “thanks” under his breath.
“Okay, well ditto to you too,” he barks back. “Who else would put up with you and your ugly crying over Taylor Swift music videos?”
“Hey! Wildest Dreams is a lyrical, musical, theatrical, melodcial masterpiece! ”
“Okay, first of all, melodical isn’t even a word, and even if it was—” Seungkwan is cut off by the ringing of the office phone line. “I probably need to answer this but we are not done with this conversation,” he shoots at you.
You giggle, waving him off and heading down one the hall to get to your office, barely catching what Seungkwan is saying, or who he’s even talking to. It vaguely crosses your mind that it’s a bit too early in the morning for your office to be getting work calls, but you brush it off as you slip past your door and into your little room.
It’s a nice little space you’ve made for yourself; your physiotherapy firm was set up a few years back, and you’d even recently gone through a certification process to belt yourself as one of SECTOR’s physiotherapists. Pretty exciting stuff when you think about it—being able to work with such top-notch racers (albeit under rather unfortunate circumstances), and you get to do what you love at the same time.
Now, you haven’t actually gotten any big-shot patients yet, and you’ve started to appreciate that more recently. It’s not as stressful, and you don’t have to navigate a possibly awkward doctor-patient relationship with someone who’s dealing with what might be a career-changing injury.
You wonder when you’ll stop forgetting that your luck ran out years ago.
Just as you set your bag down and slip into your chair to answer some emails, Seungkwan is knocking on your door and walking in. “Hey, uh, this is kinda important,” he tells you, pointing behind him at his desk where he was taking the call.
“What’s up?” you ask, slightly worried by Seungkwan’s quick change in demeanor from playful to serious.
“Some doctor at SECTOR’s facility just called and—” Crap, you know where this is going already. “—Xu Minghao just fucked up his neck. Like yesterday. And he’s getting discharged from the hospital in a few hours hopefully and they’re gonna send him over right away so you can take a look and start working with him.”
You press your lips together tightly, head going slightly dizzy at the mention of his name. Of course, when you finally got yourself licensed to practice under SECTOR, you were aware of the possibility of working with him, but this feels a little too real and a little too fast.
“You good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping you out of your haze. “Lost you for a second—it looks like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Sorry, just zoned out,” you laugh stiffly, turning on your computer and taking a shaky breath. “I’m a bit nervous I guess. I’ve never worked with a professional like him—at least not yet,” you continue to say, and it’s not entirely a lie.
You are nervous, and in any other situation you would try your best to just not think about the situation but given Xu Minghao is going to step into your office in a few hours, you figure you should get to work right away.
Seungkwan steps out soon, saying, “You got this. Seriously, you’ve been working so hard for so long and you finally get to work with one of the big shots!”
Chuckling at his optimism, you finally open the email application on your monitor. Your inbox is flooded with emails, most of which are a series of X-rays and MRI scans of your soon to be patient, and so taking a deep breath, you dive in.
“Hey Hannie, did you sanitize Room C?” you ask one of your (few) employees as he steps out from the supply room behind the reception.
“Shoot, was it supposed to be C? I’m sorry, I cleaned up B, but I can go to C and get it sanitized right now—” he starts to say, turning towards the supply room at the end of the hall.
“Hey wait no it’s okay, I just asked for C ‘cause it’s a bit bigger but it doesn't really matter. Don’t worry about it—have you had your lunch break yet?”
“Nah not yet, I was just about to step into that with Seungkwan, but he’s taken a moment to grab coffee from the cafe across the street.”
You chuckle, “Already? I got him an Americano only a few hours ago …”
Jeonghan laughs out loud at that, slipping off his cleaning gloves and patting his hands down on his scrubs. “You know how Seungkwan is with his Americanos.”
“Don’t remind me—he’s crazy. I don’t know how he ingests that much caffeine and still functions like a normal human being but—”
Seungkwan’s voice cuts you off. “I know you guys are talking about me but I’d suggest you take a break and go get ready because I swear I just saw a car with SECTOR’s logo on the back pull up onto the street right up front.”
Oh fuck. You’re already starting to feel awfully nervous.
“Shit, really? I didn’t think they’d be here as early as noon,” Jeonghan says quickly, tossing the gloves and turning to you for instruction. “Anything we need to do?”
“Guys, just chill,” you say casually. Ironic, you think to yourself, because you feel like your heart might pound right out of your chest any second now. “Just handle this like you would any other patient. I’ll probably have to talk to his manager, but while we’re doing that Jeonghan can take Xu into B and just ease him into things. Lay off the tension, you know? He’s probably stressed out as is.”
“Noted,” Jeonghan nods as he walks down the hall, and then you turn to the door of the reception where you see a group of three people walking up.
You try to make out their figures; that one on the left’s probably one of SECTOR’s health directors, and the one on the right is … that’s Choi Seungcheol isn’t it? The one who sent you the emails? He’s Xu Minghao’s manager, you’re pretty sure of it.
You straighten your back when the front door opens, clutching the clipboard full of prints of the scans you were sent earlier. Setting your eyes straight, you take a deep breath and finally take in the sight of the three people filling into the reception.
Yup, there’s Choi Seungcheol … and then Cho Miyeon following behind and she’s pushing a—shit, it’s Xu Minghao in all his glory.
Well, you’re not sure how wondrous he feels right now in that wheelchair, eyes cold as he stares at the floor. His neck’s held up in a thick brace that you can see reaches down under his shirt and over his shoulders; he doesn’t look up, and for a moment you’re grateful.
It puts off the question though, the words that linger in the back of your mind.
Will he recognize you? Well, more importantly …
Does he even remember you?
You rid yourself of the personal thoughts when Choi Seungcheol approaches you, holding out his hand to you. You shake it, strong and firm as he smiles awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, thanks for making time for us today.”
“No problem,” you reply with a nod as Jeonghan comes in from the hallway. “My assistant, Jeonghan here can take Mr. Xu to one of our rooms while I talk with you two about a few things. Does that work?”
“Yeah, sounds great,” Seungcheol nods, motioning Jeonghan to Minghao in his wheelchair behind him. The racer keeps his head down as Jeonghan brushes over and starts pushing him down the hall to Room B. You wonder if he’s even noticed you.
As Jeonghan goes off, you turn back to the other two still in the reception and point at your room. “Shall we?”
Once the three of you settle down, Seungcheol and Miyeon sit across from you, the former speaks up. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice—this all happened really quick and if you can't already tell, we’re kind of desperate to get him back in the driver’s seat as soon as possible.”
“No worries, please. These kinds of situations are exactly what I’m here for,” you tell them, and they both seem to crack a small smile of relief. “Now I spoke with the doctor that examined him at the hospital, and then briefly with Ms. Cho,” you say, motioning towards the woman on your right, “And there’s a general understanding that Mr. Xu’s suffered a pretty serious strain in his neck muscles.”
“Yeah, uh—how long is this going to take to heal?” Seungcheol pops in, and you sigh.
“I can give you a range, but it’s not so definite … I’d say between three to five months,” you tell him. “But again, it’s different for every patient. Muscle strains aren’t like a clean break or fracture where we can determine almost exactly when it’ll be healed … this stuff is going to take more time and it varies from person to person as well. It all kind of depends on Mr. Xu’s body, and that’s what I’m here for—to help figure out what works for him.”
“We understand that, thank you,” Miyeon nods, sitting straighter in her seat. “How often should he be coming in?”
“Hm, I’ll give you a definite answer after checking in with him today, but to estimate, I’d say around 2-3 times a week, while also using my suggestions outside of our sessions.”
You finish the conversation with the two after that, excusing yourself as you let them back into the reception before knocking on the door to Room B. Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway.
“He seems like, really sad, so—”
“Well, duh. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.
“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.
You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.
“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”
You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.
“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.
“Yeah.”
“Is it better now?”
“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”
“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.
As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?
His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.
Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.
“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” the possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.
You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.
“What time is Xu scheduled for on Wednesdays? He’ll be coming in on Wednesdays, right?” Jeonghan asks as he steps into your office.
“Uh, he’s coming in for a session from 11-2 today—which, by the way, could you set up Room C for that? I can’t remember if I already put that on the to-do list.”
“Yeah I did it yesterday after our last patient of the day, I was just wondering. You’re gonna lead it with him this time, right?”
“Yeah, since it’s the first session. You were right about him being … apprehensive—”
“Sad,” Jeonghan corrects you. “A sad, sad boy.”
“Yeah well, go figure,” you sigh out of sympathy. “Anyways, like I said, it’s understandable for him to be frustrated, so I’ll work with him at first to ease him into things and stuff. You can start taking over more of the sessions once he warms up to the whole process, and once we figure out and set a routine.”
“Okay great. Does this mean I can go out for my lunch break at 11:30?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply with a casual shrug as Jeonghan thanks you and slips away. You shift your attention back to your monitor before glancing through the initial medical reports you were sent by the hospital, and then the results of your own tests you ran during your first session with Xu Minghao.
It’s a shitty injury, you’ll have to admit. A neck strain on the muscles closest to his right shoulder, not only rendering his neck immobile for a period of time, but also hindering his abilities to move his right arm.
Must hurt like a bitch—physically and mentally—and the image of him staring down at the ground burns in the back of your mind.
With a sigh, you silently wonder if you could offer him the same solace he gave you.
Xu Minghao shows up to your office two hours later with Choi Seungcheol pushing him inside on his wheelchair, and you’re thankful to see that his stature looks much more relaxed than before. “I’ll come by at 2, right?”
“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thank you,” Jeonghan tells Mr. Choi with a smile before taking control of Minghao’s wheelchair and strolling him into the room. You’re already there and waiting for him, standing up to greet him with a smile.
“Hi Mr. Xu,” you say, thanking Jeonghan as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
“Morning,” he says quietly, not quite meeting your gaze. The air isn’t as thick as it was the first day, but there seems to be some invisible barrier between the two.
“How’s the pain right now, Mr. Xu?” you ask, pulling out a notepad on your computer to jot down some notes.
Your patient’s eyebrows furrow, and for a second you have a feeling this might be harder than you thought, but his next words are more comforting than anything. “Uh, can you just call me Minghao? Mr. Xu is … it’s weird.”
“Y-yeah of course, sorry about that, Minghao,” you nod with a half smile. “So could you tell me how things are feeling?”
“I guess it hurts less. I don’t really move that much so I can avoid hurting myself though—kinda in this thing most of the time anyways,” he replies gruffly, hitting the left side of the wheelchair with his palm.
“Do you stand up? Walk around at all?”
“Not often.”
“Okay so I think we’re going to try and change that soon,” you tell him. “We’ll do some mobility checks today but if it doesn’t hurt to move your shoulder a little, then I think it’s best you move as much as you can without pain. Honestly, you’re going to be injured for a while and—”
You pause when you hear Minghao inhale sharply at that, making a mental note to soften your words a little.
“—and we don’t want you to be immobile. If you can move, try to. We’ll try and get you out of the wheelchair within the next two weeks, how does that sound?”
Minghao’s ears perk up at that. “Two weeks? Only?”
You nod happily at his sudden energy and the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, you know the wheelchair is just so you don’t move your upper body too much but like I said the last time we met, the initial stages are pretty painful but once it’s over, you’ll be more mobile. Of course, you won’t be able to get back to racing and training right away, but you’ll be able to be a lot more active than you are now.”
“How long will it take before I can start training again?” Minghao asks curiously, finally looking you straight in the eye with parted lips.
The desperation is painful to watch.
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, watching his shoulders deflate. “At least two months.”
“Two months?”
“At the least,” you say with a held breath.
“At the most?” Minghao asks hopefully.
You purse your lips. “At the most? … A year?”
“A year? That’s more than a whole racing season!”
“Yes but neck strains are fickle and we can’t let anything go wrong, and due to the nature of your sport, you really—”
“I think I know the nature of my own sport,” Minghao scoffs, and with the way he says it, you don’t know if you should be mad or sad or disappointed or a mix of all three.
“I—” you pause, “I understand your frustration Mr.—Minghao, but my job is to make sure you’re one hundred percent healed before you set foot on the track again, so please be patient and allow yourself to heal.”
Something about those last few words rings in Minghao’s ears, and he zones out for the rest of what you’re saying.
Allow yourself to heal. Fuck.
Minghao stays pretty much silent for the rest of the session, and you’re not quite sure if it’s out of complacency or indifference. You go through some slow mobility exercises, and figure out a good range for him to stay in for the next few days.
“Make sure you practice those movements every day,” you note once you near the end of today’s session. “I’ll send you an email listing all of them with instructions so you remember. Please try and do them every day, and it’ll hopefully speed up the recovery process.”
“Thanks,” Minghao murmurs as he carefully sits back down in his wheelchair.
“Is there anything else you’re doing in your free time right now?” you ask, trying to make casual conversation as you start to type up your list.
“Not really. I watch practice videos and stuff, I guess.”
You hum, not really responding until you finally finish the list and send it to his email. “I sent the list, you should start using it tomorrow. Anyways, I think you should try crocheting,” you tell him casually.
Minghao gives you a sideways glance as he raises an eyebrow. “… Crocheting?”
“Yeah,” you say with a shrug, finally turning around to face. “You know, with yarn and stuff.”
“I know what crocheting is.”
“I-I know,” you say awkwardly, slightly thrown off your game by his bluntness. “You won’t have to move your shoulders, only your forearms, so it’s fine.”
“But why?”
“It’s fun. And a nice way to pass time, especially when you can’t move around a lot. Plus, it’s always good to have something to distract yourself from—” You pause, thinking about how to finish your sentence. “—from shitty stuff, y’know?”
Minghao chuckles, and your heart swells a little when you finally see him break a smile. “Yeah, I guess.” There’s a long pause. “Shitty stuff, huh?”
You laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Shitty stuff.”
“You and your stupid Americanos,” you sigh, watching Seungwkan grin as the barista hands him his drink.
“Stop acting like you don’t indulge in me too. Getting me all those Americanos in the morning … I should blame you for this addiction!”
“So you admit it’s an addiction!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving your hands in the air. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, leaving you to sit at a table in one of the corners of the cafe. Laughing at his silent admission of defeat, you wait for your drink patiently.
It’s only a few more moments before the barista is back at the counter, calling out, “Honey lavender latte!” With a smile, you walk over, about to reach for the drink before a hand beats you to it.
Frowning, you look up at the man who’s holding your drink before you say, “Hey, I’m sorry, I think that’s my drink.”
“Uh, honey lavender latte? I’m pretty sure I ordered this,” he says. You look at him with a funny expression on your face, eyes darting between the drink you ordered and the drink that’s in his other hand. He catches your suspicion and shakes his head quickly. “It’s for my friend, I ordered for the both of us so I could get us a spot.”
“Oh,” you breath out, figuring that it probably isn’t a lie. “S-sorry for the misunderstanding. I just—” you chuckle, watching some of the tension from the man’s shoulders wither away. “I ordered the same thing—”
“Oh sorry, I—my friend isn’t here yet so you can just take this and I’ll wait for the other to come out,” he offers, watching your face, and you see something in his expression change. “Hey wait, you look really familiar,” he murmurs.
Your eyebrows furrow as you silently thank him when he hands you the drink. “Uh, are you sure? I’m sorry, I just—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” you admit with an awkward chuckle.
The man shakes his head and laughs quietly to myself. “No, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere, but I’m just blanking on it right now—sorry this is probably so weird but—” The bell of the front door rings and he shoots his head to see who’s coming in, eyes lighting up. “Oh hey, Hao! Was just waiting for you!”
Hao? Mingh—
You lock eyes as soon as he walks in.
The man from before beams as he walks up to him as your eyes finally break away, and Minghao turns to his friend. “Hansol,” he greets with a small smile, and it’s a pleasant sight to see your patient—who’s more often monotone than not—seem a bit more at ease than before.
“How’re you doing? Was just waiting on your drink and—” the man—Hansol—points at you with eyes as wide as saucers, “—oh by the way, doesn’t she look really familiar?”
You chuckle nervously, breaking out an awkward smile and waving at Minghao who returns you by raising his left arm in a sort of half-wave before turning his attention to Hansol to give him a blank stare. “Yeah, she’s kinda like my physiotherapist dude.”
This time, you chuckle a bit more genuinely, eyes darting between the amused smirk that’s just barely there on Minghao’s lips, and Hansol’s agape stare.
“Ohh shit, yeah that’s where I saw you! Cheol and Miyeon were talking about you when they were booking you for Hao at the hospital, and I saw your picture on the screen,” Vernon explains as the realization hits him.
“Oh,” you laugh lightly. “That’s funny,” you reply as you turn your attention to Minghao, “Good to see you’re getting out of that wheelchair. I bet it feels nice to finally stretch your legs and stuff,” you say. If Minghao could move his neck without eruptions of pain, he’d nod his head.
For now though, he settles on smiling and saying, “Yeah, it’s refreshing.” His eyes wander around you, taking in how you aren’t dressed in your usual work attire, but rather clad in a cute outfit. “Is that my drink?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he points at the coffee you’ve just taken a sip of.
Hansol laughs and shakes his head. “You two got the same drink so when it came out, I just let ‘er have it, since you weren’t here yet.” He glances around before putting his drink down at a nearby table. “Shit, I think I left my laptop in my car,” he murmurs, looking at his friend. “I’m gonna go get it so I can show you those videos I was talking about.”
“Yeah, that’s chill,” Minghao agrees. Hansol smiles at you and then his friend before quickly retreating from the cafe to get to the parking lot, leaving you and the tall man standing in silence. It’s a few passing moments where you awkwardly sip on your drink before something pops in your mind.
“Hey, it’s actually really funny that you’re seeing me right now because—well it’s not funny funny, but it’s a nice coincidence so I guess that counts as funny but—anyways, look, I crocheted this cardigan.” You smile, lifting your arms a little so he can see the dark, navy blue fabric you made yourself, before turning around to show off the light blue, striped pattern on the back. “Cool, right?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty. Nice color scheme and all,” Minghao agrees.
“Thanks. Have you started crocheting? I can send you some videos to get you started,” you offer. Just as Minghao is about to reply, the barista from behind you calls out another order of your drink, causing both of you to glance back. “Oh, you wait there; I’ll get it,” you say, putting your drink down on the same table Hansol did before walking over to grab Minghao’s drink and hand it back to his left hand.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” he says as your fingers brush over each other before falling back to your side. “Isn’t your friend waiting for you?”
“Of course I have to. I’m your doctor! I can’t make you do that,” you reason before pointing back at your best friend. “And are you talking about Seungkwan? Looks like he’s having the time of his life doing—” You turn your head around to glance at him before looking back at Minghao, “—doing god knows what on his phone and—”
“Are you talking about me?” you hear Seungkwan’s voice calling from a few meters away, and the way you cringe has Minghao stifling a giggle. “All good things I hope!” he continues.
“You know it!” you shoot back sarcastically, only to be followed by Seungkwan’s rolling eyes. “That little shit. I pay his bills!” you exclaim, a faux frown making its way onto your face.
Minghao laughs, his head throwing back a little. The small movement flares up a bite of pain in his neck, causing his breath to get stuck in his throat, eyes widening as he slowly shifts back into a comfortable position.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly.
If Minghao could shrug without feeling like his neck would snap in half, he would. Instead, he raises his eyebrow playfully when he says, “Are you seriously apologizing for being funny?”
You roll your eyes. “I’m retracting my apology.”
It’s been around three weeks since you started working with Minghao. He’s warmed up to you a fair amount, and ever since you saw him at the cafe, the air around you two has been lighter.
It’s still a bit awkward at times—skitting around the moments where you wonder if you should say something about the elephant in the room before shaking your head and biting your tongue. Then again, given how often you see Minghao, you’ve gotten used to it.
Seungkwan stops by your office this morning when he walks into work. “Morning,” he greets, dropping a small brown bag by your desk as you file through some papers.
“Ooh, thank you,” you tell him gleefully, taking a break from your task to glance at the chocolate muffin that sits inside of the bag. “I’ve been craving this,” you admit, reaching in and picking out a small piece to stuff into your mouth.
“Your welcome,” Seungkwan sighs, sitting down on the seat in front of you. “Anyways, I found something cool that I don’t think you told me.”
You raise your eyebrows at him skeptically. “Yeah? What is it?”
“You and Xu Minghao are from the same hometown!”
You roll your eyes. “Why do you still keep calling him Xu Minghao? He’s told us to just say Minghao, and even if he didn’t, it’s awkward when you say his full name like that.”
Seungkwan scoffs at you, reaching his hand over to try and flick your forehead but you dodge. “Because he’s Xu Minghao. I can’t believe you aren’t still jumping up and down for getting to work with him, seeing how much you love SECTOR.”
“You want me to be happy that the best racer from my favorite team is injured?”
“Ugh, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Whatever,” you shrug, a small hint of a smile peeking from your lips.
“Anyways, you didn’t answer what I actually said. Why didn’t you tell me you guys are from the same area? That’s so cool!”
“I mean I guess,” you say with a shrug.
“And you guys are the same age so—wait, did you go to school together? Oh my god, are you guys like—I don’t know, long lost best friends or something?” Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be so cool—I could totally see a movie on this and—wait! If he’s your long lost best friend, where does that leave me? You better not replace me with him!”
You laugh at the progression of his thoughts, almost choking on your second bite of the muffin. “We did go to school together,” you admit. “It’s not like we crossed paths though. He kinda just, I don’t know, existed back then. So no worries for you, you’re not getting replaced any time soon … unfortunately,” you add with mischievous giggle.
“Better not …” Seungkwan huffs.
Minghao comes in a few hours later for his afternoon session. Jeonghan works with him for the first two of the three hours, and you walk in for the last hour. You go over some more mobility exercises, before finally sitting down so you can discuss his progress.
“So things are going really well,” you start to tell him, beginning to list off a couple signs of development which stood out to you. You’re about to commend him on keeping up the exercises everyday, when you notice him staring at the floor with a blank expression. “H-hey, Minghao?” you ask, clearing your voice when he doesn’t respond. “Minghao.”
His eyes shoot up to yours, shoulders tensing for a second before he lets out a deep breath. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.”
You chuckle nervously, wondering if it’s okay if you probe just a little. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Minghao replies casually, but you catch the way he doesn’t meet your gaze. “Just thinking about last night’s race.”
“Oh, Singapore?”
“Yeah.”
“I was able to catch a bit of it last night, but I passed out. It seemed intense though—you see Kim’s pit stop?”
“Yeah, it was kinda insane,” Minghao says breathily. His expression is unreadable, but he’s continuing to respond and so you choose to let things go on naturally. “He’s been living up to his talent now that his shitbox is back to what it’s supposed to be.”
“Can’t imagine how frustrating it is.” Fuck, when Minghao’s shoulders drop, it feels like you said something you probably shouldn’t have.
I can imagine, Minghao thinks after hearing your response, but he bites back the words. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly instead.
Silence. This seems like a good chance to change the topic.
“Uh—” Sorry, you want to say, but you choose to hold your breath instead. “I have good news.”
“Oh?”
“We can get you out of the neck brace today,” you tell him happily.
Minghao’s eyes light up. “Really?”
“Yeah, your progress has been great. Didn’t want to tell you earlier to get your hopes up, in case something went wrong, but everything has been looking really good and you’re at the point where we usually take any supports like braces off.”
Minghao grins, and it’s a stark contrast from the grim shadow cast on his face just moments earlier. You take a few moments to go over the procedures with him, helping him out of the foamy, firm brace with gentle hands and watchful eyes.
“How’s it feeling?” you ask, setting the brace down by one of your counters so you can dispose of it later.
Minghao lets out a low groan of what you can only assume is relief when he looks up. “Like my skin can finally breathe,” he sighs heavily, a bright smile taking over his features as you turn to face him.
“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, before beginning a quick examination process of the area under the brace and going through some quick motions.
“All done?” he asks. When you nod, he continues. “Kinda early, huh?” he say pointendly, and you both quickly glance at the clock on the wall: his session is supposed to end in 43 minutes.
“Oh yeah, uh—actually … I was wondering if you wanted to try something?” you ask tentatively, and Minghao senses your hesitation. “If you have the time.”
Raising a brow, he nods. “Yeah I don’t mind, what is it?”
“One second,” you tell him, getting up and leaving the room to grab something from your office. Shyly, you walk back in and to your seat, all while holding up a brown bag. “Just some old crocheting supplies I thought you might like,” you murmur, placing it down on the counter.
Minghao presses his lips together tightly, not expecting your words. “Oh, uh—I haven’t really … I haven’t taken up crocheting yet. Sorry, uh—”
“Oh yeah,” you say quickly, holding a hand up, using the other to show him the contents of the bag. There’s some balls of yarn and hooks in a little mess, and you reach in to take some out. “I figured—it’s pretty intimidating to take up by yourself but,” you sigh. “I think it’ll be really nice for you. I recommend it to a lot of my patients who can’t do their regular activities and hobbies … and now given your brace is off, your vision will have more range and it might be really fun for you. No pressure if you don’t like it, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show you the ropes,” you admit, holding up a ball of blue yarn.
Catching onto your pun, Minghao chuckles and replies, “Sure, why not.”
“Okay great,” you say excitedly, dropping the bag and pulling your chair up in front of him and next to the table, pulling the supplies out.
Minghao is patient as you show off the different yarns and hooks, explaining the very basics in great detail. You can’t quite tell if he’s being so obedient out of genuine interest, pity, or simply polite compliance, but for whatever reason, you’re thankful. Soon, you’re showing him how you do it yourself before handing him one of your spare hooks and the ball of yarn, letting Minghao test the waters for himself.
“Yeah, just do that and—wait,” you mutter, reaching over to adjust the way he’s holding the hook. Your soft fingers gingerly brush over his knuckles, and Minghao finds himself getting lost for a moment. As you innocently fix the position of his fingers, his stomach churns in a manner he can’t quite name. “You got that?” you ask him suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Sorry, zoned out again. What was that?”
“Singapore really got you thinking, huh?” you muse before shaking your head and laughing it off.
“Sorry, I—”
“Don’t worry about it. Here, I was just saying you should position your thumb like this or else you might start to cramp up really fast. Happens to me like crazy but I didn’t fix my habit and now I just gotta crochet through the pain.”
Minghao looks at you with an odd expression. “Crochet … through … the pain?”
“That sounded cooler in my head, my bad.”
Minghao laughs. It’s not a tight chuckle, or a soft giggle, it’s a laugh. And it’s bright and full and tugging at your heartstrings in a way you’d rather ignore. “It’s okay.”
“Anyways … here, I’ll show you how to start off with a slip knot and then we’ll take things from there,” you instruct.
Slowly, you walk him through the steps. You learn that Minghao is a good learner. He’s intuitive, but it’s not that you expect much different—you figure no one can get to the level he’s at without being quick to pick up on things.
You’re soon showing him how to start a simple chain, the yarn and hook still in his hands as you work him through the process. “Yeah, now you just gotta yarn over like this—no, the other way, just like that … and—yeah … yeah!” you exclaim excitedly when Minghao slips the hook right through, lengthening the chain. “You got it!”
“Really?” Minghao asks. “Simpler than I thought,” he admits aloud, and you nod vigorously.
“Yeah … crocheting looks hard from afar but once you actually get the hang of it, it’s as easy as breathing,” you explain, softly taking the yarn and hook from his hands and showing how it looks once you build in more loops.
He watches you carefully—the way your fingers so gently, with such precision; how your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you focus in on the task at hand, tongue unconsciously sticking out from the corner of your mouth, and—
“You’re really good at this,” Minghao murmurs quietly, and you swear he’s so close, his warm breath fans down on your cheeks. You gulp, pausing what you’re doing to look up at him.
“My mother taught me. It’s been a casual hobby ever since.”
You feel Minghao’s eyes bore down on yours intensely, wondering if he’ll respond. Something is screaming at you to pray he’ll keep his mouth shut.
Minghao doesn’t say a word, thankfully. Still, the possibilities of what could be running through his mind haunt you.
You think you should start feeling guilty. You think you should already be feeling guilty when you start to look forward to seeing Minghao. He’s your patient for fuck’s sake—you should be happy he’s not holed up in here everyday.
Still, there’s a weird feeling that festers in your chest when you think about him.
Minghao, and the way he’s so persistent, so patient, so attentive with all the exercises and information you tell him. Minghao, and the polite smile he throws your way at the beginning of each session. Minghao, and the way his eyes light up.
“We’re going to try some new mobility exercises today,” you tell him today with a grin, standing up from your seat. Minghao’s ears perk up as he catches the bright look on your face, and something inside of him swells with hope.
“Really?”
You smile and nod in return. “Yeah! I mean your recovery has been really great so far and I think this is a good point to move on and see if we can test out an even wider range of motion.” Minghao doesn’t really say anything in response, but the way his eyes light up when he watches you explain the exercises tells you enough.
In the hour that follows, you two walk through the exercises, trying out each one, and you’re almost three quarters through all the motions you planned today right before you show him how to angle his shoulder before a new exercise.
“How are things feeling? Anything hurting? Anywhere?” you ask anxiously as Minghao comes out of the last stretch you showed him with a pleasant look on his face.
“No, not like pain pain,” he says casually, leaning back into the chair. “Not the kinda pain from the strain, but I feel a bit of tension on my shoulder from keeping it in that position for too long.”
“Okay great,” you say, typing it down onto your digital notepad. “We’ll try and switch up that one next time so your body is completely relaxed from now on.”
“Thanks. What’s the next exercise?” Minghao asks curiously upon taking in the information. You vaguely think to yourself about how you enjoy his growing warmness—he’s been a lot more positive these past sessions with his rapid progress, and it’s bringing a much lighter atmosphere to Room C.
You explain the movement to him, explaining to him how to lift his shoulders just enough to circle them backwards without too much movement. It’s going pretty smoothly like the other exercises; you explain, Minghao listens, you adjust, Minghao lets you.
Right now you’re about to lean in, hands brushing over his shoulder blade to guide them to a more steep angle, explaining to Minghao how to fix his posture. Your fingers brush over his collarbone and jaw a few times in the process, your eyes keeping steady on making sure he doesn’t make any abrasive movements.
“There we go,” you tell him after showing him how to do the circular movement with his shoulders. “Why don’t you try it by yourself?”
Shooting you a thumbs up, Minghao complies, lifting his shoulder forward first slowly. He’s going through the motions of everything pretty normally—after all this is just like any other exercise so he doesn’t really worry that much until—fuck.
Holy shit, that quick but sharp pain stings so bad.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly when Minghao stills, his eyes widening.
So much. So fucking much, Minghao thinks to himself.
“Talk to me,” you say, moving closer to him so you can move your hands over his shoulder and lead them back down to a natural position.
“It h-hurt for a second. Really bad, but then it was gone,” Minghao says breathily. You purse your lips together and Minghao feels his heart sink to his chest when you turn around and type some stuff he can’t read from where he sits. “Is this like—” He needs to pause to collect himself so the nerves don’t get to him. “—is it bad?” When you hesitate to respond, Minghao already knows his answer. “Fuck.”
“Look, it’s just hurting in that spot for this exercise. The rest of your progress is amazing, but we’re just going to need to take it slower since you’ve probably just overexerted the muscle a little bit.”
“So I’ve been set back, basically,” Minghao says bluntly, his tone doing a full 180 from just a few moments earlier.
“Not a setback …” you sigh. “Just a sign that we need to go slower right now.” You watch him worriedly when he presses his lips together and doesn’t meet your gaze.
“So a setback.”
You gulp. “You can’t think of this like that. I told you from the start that progress is never linear and—”
“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Minghao breaths out, and something about the way he says it with such a curt, tense tone almost makes you lose your composure. “This is—fuck, this my career okay? I can’t afford any setbacks.”
“I know that and that’s why I’m your doctor, okay?” you say, a bit more harshly than you intended.
You don’t understand why you’re letting his hostility get to your head all of sudden—it isn’t like you haven’t had frustrated patients before. Fuck, you’ve had people cry, sob, break down in this same room over slow progress but something about the way he looks so disheartened has your heart clenching.
“I’m here to help you,” you reiterate, your tone more composed than before. “But I can only do that if you let me.”
Minghao eyes flicker between your wide eyes and his hands in his lap. There’s a growing knot that ties in his throat, and he’s too afraid to open his mouth to speak, too afraid of what he might say. Instead, he just huffs and stands up.
“Sorry,” he finally musters up, eyes trained on the ground as you watch him carefully for his next move. “I’m leaving.”
You don’t stop him as he walks away.
When Minghao walks into the reception a few days later, he’s not surprised to see that you aren’t the one greeting him. He thinks back to the way your lips were pressed into a tight line when he walked out last week. It was the last time he’d seen you in the past few days, and some weird mix of worry swirls in his stomach.
Were you avoiding him? He wouldn’t blame you if you were, but he feels guilty for thinking that way. You wouldn’t let something personal get in the way of your work, Minghao knows that for sure.
Still, he bites his tongue when he briefly considers asking Jeonghan where you are. Would that be overstepping? It’s not like there haven’t been sessions where you weren’t there, but something about the thickness in the air around him tells Minghao that there’s something he should be worried about.
As if he could read Minghao’s mind, Jeonghan speaks up. “Doc’ll come in around the end. It’s her mom’s birthday so she’s out for most of the afternoon, but she’ll be back for the last half an hour,” he says casually, not really expecting to turn around to see Minghao looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.
“H-her—” Her mom? Minghao wants to ask but something stops him from saying it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not here. Something feels wrong. “That’s fine,” he mutters, pursing his lips before looking at the ground.
He can feel Jeonghan’s curious gaze burning into the back of his skull, but Minghao only doesn’t move as he keeps quiet. They soon fall into the regular pattern of starting off with mobility exercises before doing a check of his range of movement.
It’s nearing the final hour of his session when Jeonghan excuses himself for a moment. Only two minutes passes before there’s a knock at the door, and then some footsteps leading in.
“Good afternoon Minghao,” you greet softly upon walking in. The man glances up at you, eyes widening when he takes in your figure.
“Oh—uh, hey.”
Minghao wants to bash his head into the wall. Hey? Seriously? That’s all he could muster up? Hey?
“Jeonghan gave me the rundown,” you tell him, looking away as you lift a clipboard and squint to read the tiny text. “No more sharp pains … returning mobilily …”
You hum slowly as you read off the notes your assistant left for you, not meeting Minghao’s gaze. He wonders if that’s what you intended. “Seeing as things are going smoothly for now, we’ll continue with the low-risk exercises and—”
“I’m sorry,” Minghao blurts out. He wonders what compels him to do it, but when you finally meet his gaze, he realizes that he just wanted you to look at him.
“Mi—”
“I’m sorry for how I acted last time. I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you. I was frustrated and took it out on you, and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”
Your lips are pursed by the time Minghao is finished. He’s said enough, but when he peers up at you, his eyes speak a story of their own.
“It’s okay,” you respond with no hesitation, before turning back to your clipboard, scanning over it a few more times and then setting it down.
You smooth your hands over your lab coat, and for a moment Minghao wonders what it would feel like to have your palms run down his neck, pressing into his skin so gently yet with such fervor, fingertips ghosting over—
Minghao shouldn’t think like this.
“Jeonghan told me that it’s your mom’s birthday,” he finally breaks the silence. It’s the first time either of you have actually brought it up, and the reality of it all—fuck, it’s hitting you so hard that there’s already tears pooling in yout lashline.
You silently curse yourself for forgetting to tell Jeonghan not to tell Minghao anything. It’s okay, it isn’t like he knew any better, you tell yourself as you blink rapidly, trying to shoo away the tears.
“Mhm,” you hum, hoping he doesn’t probe any deeper. You aren’t sure what you should say.
You’re silent, and Minghao itches to reach forward, to rest his hand on your shoulder, to smile at you, to say all the things he’s been thinking about you but he just can’t. All he can manage is to clear his throat, causing you to look up at him expectantly.
Fuck, what should he say? “I’m um—I’m glad. Glad that she’s uh—that everything worked out.” That’s fine, right? There’s nothing wrong with that statement, Minghao’s almost sure of it so … so why in the world are you crying?
Shoot, did he fuck up? You’re sitting in the chair right next to him, head in your hands as you cover your face and turn away; your cries are soft but just loud enough for Minghao to hear over the rush in his ears, just loud enough for him to feel the ache, just loud enough for him to get the message.
Oh.
The first time you meet Xu Minghao, you’re in middle school. Seventh grade and walking into Algebra, going to sit down on your regular seat. Five minutes into class and a new boy walks into the room, handing your teacher a slip before being directed to sit down at a spot a few tables over.
He’s got short, dark hair, cat-like eyes, and a bit of tall, lanky figure as he slinks down into the chair. Your teacher claps her hands together and announces that there’s a new student in class. His name’s “Xu Minghao,” she said.
You don’t really remember his name at first. It isn’t uncommon for there to be new students on campus. He’s not in many of your other classes you realize as the day goes on, and so he slips your mind. Maybe you work with him for a few assignments throughout the year, but not enough for you to wave at each other when you pass the other in the hallways.
Five years later and you’re in your final year of high school. Time has passed, you have changed, Xu Minghao has changed, but what remains the same is what you are to each other. Strangers.
You’re paired with a stranger for your final senior Literature project.
“Do you want to write a paper, or do the poster?” you ask as he sits down next to you once the pairing assignments. Your teacher had given you two options on how to go about the project. “I don’t really mind either or,” you admit.
Minghao hums, setting his copy of Macbeth on the table before turning to you. “Poster? I think I’ve done enough writing in this past year to last me a lifetime,” he tells you with an obvious sigh.
“Yeah,” you laugh. “Were you in Biology?”
He nods. “Regretfully.”
“Oh so you also had to write that whole research paper. Damn, that thing had to have shaved at least ten years off my life.”
“Ditto,” Minghao grumbles, running his hands over his face. “Oh god, just thinking about it is making me queasy. I’m so happy we’re in our final semester.”
“So we agree on no paper, just the poster?” you finalize.
Minghao agrees, “Yeah, that’s great.”
One week later and Minghao is at your doorstep. “Cool set up,” he notes, stepping into your room, looking down at the poster splayed out with markers all over.
You grin. “Thanks—I kind of like being artsy and stuff sometimes so I was pretty happy to do this when you said you also wanted to do the poster.”
“Seems like I made a good choice then,” he replies, sitting down on the opposite end of the poster and pulling out a notebook and his book. “I did some work and got a bunch of lines that we could use as citations in different parts.”
“That’s great,” you say, picking a pen. “Let’s get started then?”
You two get straight to work, and all goes smoothly. Minghao is a good worker, you’ve noticed. His friends are quite fun—you’ve seen him with them in the hallways sometimes—but you start to realize that Minghao doesn’t let himself sacrifice his work ethic for fun.
You make quite some progress over the next hour or two, and you’re just about to bring up one of your ideas. “So over here, I was thinking we could write out the context of the play and then—” You’re cut off by the voice of your older brother at your door. He’s looking down at his phone with his lips pressed into a tight line as he speaks.
“Mom’s starting another cycle of chemo this Thursday so—oh, sorry,” Beomgyu says quickly upon looking up and seeing you have a visitor. “Come to my room when you’re done,” he mutters before turning on his heel.
The silence that envelopes your room is deafening.
You don’t say a word as you take a deep breath and pick up a different colored marker. You clear your throat. “So back to what I was saying …”
The next time you work on the poster, it’s at Minghao’s house.
You wear a blue gown at graduation. It’s a sunny day in June, and you’re sweating a little through the silk fabric, but it’s okay.
Your father and Beomgyu are there in the stands, but your eyes can’t help but be pulled to the empty seat next to them. Your mother said she’d try to make it, but broke the news last night that it was a dream too high up to reach.
It’s okay, you had told her, but as you clutch your diploma close to your heart, all you can think is, no it’s not, no it’s not, no it’s fucking not.
You sit through the rest of the ceremony with a silence and all around you, you see your peers’ smiling faces, the encouraging words of the dean, the cheers of the crowds, and somehow you feel so lost in it all. When you’re finally dismissed, everyone claps and revels once more, but somehow you can’t find the voice in your throat to join them.
Slipping through the crowds of people who line up to take pictures with their friends, family, and all the sort, you slip out of the small stadium and into some hallway.
“Fuck!” you finally cry out, raising your hand up and whipping it forward towards the brick wall. You wince, bracing yourself for the pain, but the sting never comes. Something warm envelopes your wrist, and when you finally blink your eyes open, you see a stranger.
“I don’t understand what you’re going through,” Minghao finally says. “I won’t pretend I do either, but it’ll be okay.” He hugs you and your face is pressed into Minghao’s own blue gown that is about to turn a few shades darker.
You cry. You cry harder than you think you’ve ever cried before.
You don’t know what it is about the way he speaks. Maybe it’s the way he holds you. Maybe it’s the way he smells. Maybe it’s everything, but whatever it is or isn’t, you don’t stop crying and for a gracing moment, you bask in catharsis.
And then, you hear Beomgyu’s voice calling for you from a nearby hallway, so you pull back. Minghao presses his lips together and lets you go, hands dropping to the side as you wipe away the tears. There’s a darker blue splotch in the middle of his chest, but he says nothing of it.
You don’t say a word as you step back—the only communication you share is a nod, but you swear on every last star in the sky that he has said more words to you in that moment than anyone has told you in your entire lifetime.
You don’t see Minghao’s face until it’s seven years later and he’s plastered on the screen as SECTOR’s newest recruit. He’s got phenomenal potential as an F1 racer—greatest new talent in a while—you hear the host of the channel say, but as you look at his picture on the screen, all you see is the face of a stranger who’s held you tighter than anyone before.
The last time you saw Minghao, it was through tear-blurred vision as you scurried out of Room C—you had to tell Jeonghan through broken sniffles to wrap up the session with Minghao—that the weight of the day had gotten to your head and that you needed to take a breather.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. You retreated to your office soon after, staring at the photo of you and your mother that sat at the corner of your table, and then you cried a little more.
It’s the next day when you’re back in the office. Two patients had just finished up, and you’re sitting in your office, filing through some emails when you hear the familiar ringing of the front door opening. You furrow your eyebrows to yourself, not recalling having any other patients scheduled for at least another two hours.
Had Jeonghan and Seungkwan taken their break earlier than you thought? No, that can’t be possible because they always let you know when they’re heading out and—
“Doc!” you hear Seungkwan’s voice call out to you from down the hall. “Could you come here for a sec’?”
Frowning, you close your laptop and stand up, walking out the doorway and down the hallway towards the front entrance of the clinic. “What is i—oh.” The question dies on your tongue when you see Minghao standing in the reception.
Something in your stomach churns at the sight of him—eyes slightly blown out, lips parted but somehow curved downward in a way that has your own lips frowning. The events of the past few days crashes down on you, and you bite down on your bottom lips in hopes that it’ll ground you in reality.
Seungkwan stands behind the main desk, looking at you with some sort of awry expression, and you catch Jeonghan coming down from the other hallway to catch the odd situation. Minghao doesn’t seem to mind though, eyes zoning in on you.
“I need to talk to you,” he says. You feel Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s gazes burn into the back of your skull.
Glancing at them, you point to the door. “You guys can take your lunch break now,” you tell them before turning your attention to Minghao. “Let’s go to Room C?”
He follows you in an instant, slipping into the seat that he always does as you close the door behind you and walking up to stand in front of him.
You can hear the words already coming together on his tongue—I’m sorry—and so you open your mouth before Minghao can even say it.
“I’m sorry,” you say, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”
“No, I—I shouldn’t have said anything. I had no idea you—” Minghao stops himself. He doesn’t know how much is too much.
It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since graduation.”
“Me too,” you respond in an instant. “I see so much of myself in you,” you tell him.
“Stop, I—our situations aren’t comparable and—”
“Let me be the judge of that, yeah?” you cut him off with a small smile and through tears, cupping his face. The skin over his cheek bones are soft when you run your thumbs over them. “When everything is going wrong and you’re so angry, and you’re blaming all the wrong people but you can’t help it, and it makes you feel worse and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”
“Yeah.”
You inhale steadily, feeling hot water meet your hands and trickle down to your wrists. Minghao is crying, and suddenly you are hit with waves of deja vu. “I get it, okay?” you tell him, even though you know that Minghao already knows. You get it better than anyone. “It’ll be okay.”
The echo of his words from all those years ago crashes down on you, and suddenly Minghao pulls your arms down causing you to hunch over so your face is right in front of his.
“I’ve thought about you everyday since then.” The words come out of your mouth in a soft whisper. “Even when she passed away a few months later.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes closing and head titling forward so that your foreheads press against each other. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you tell him, stroking his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry—you were right. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
“I—I’m sorry, I just—”
Something about the way Minghao says the word sorry not from his throat, but from his stomach, has your mind twisting in ways that you can’t comprehend. The sound is so guttural and heart-wrenching, and this time you want to cry because he’s got nothing to be sorry for. Not a thing.
And so you kiss him.
You kiss Minghao because he is no longer a stranger. Because he is crying for you and you might as well cry for him. Cry for him, but you have done enough crying to last you a lifetime and so you kiss him instead, because they speak the same words: I love you.
And his lips are soft, his tongue warm, his hand ghosting over your arm is gentle, and you can hear it. You hear it in the way he moves against you—he understands and you want to cry again because he’s always understood, and so you don’t cry but only kiss him deeper.
“I made you something,” he admits. “It’s in the car.”
You’re thankful you sent your two coworkers out when you did, sparring all four of you the awkwardness when you and Minghao slip out of Room C and out the clinic towards the parking lot and to his car.
He pulls a blanket out from the passenger seat. It’s hardly big enough to cover your lower half but it’s bright and blue and warm, and somehow you feel your eyes well up with tears that you can’t seem to stop this time.
“Did you—did you make this?” you choke out as Minghao stands in front of you, handing the cloth over as you run your palms over the loose threads and yarn that poke through.
“Crocheted it myself,” he tells you, standing from a couple inches above, as you marvel over his work. Minghao thinks he’s done a poor job—you could probably do better—but you clutch the blanket with such vigor that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you. “You’ve helped me so much,” he says instead.
“Fuck,” you mutter over harsh breaths. “Y-you made this.”
“You taught me,” he corrects, and that’s when the dam breaks.
And this time Minghao hugs you, and you can tell he’s being careful about his neck and in all your frenzy you almost want to push him away and say, “Don’t move so much!” but then his arms fold in on you like a blanket of their own and you crumble.
You crumble into happiness because through everything you’ve ever been through, Minghao still holds you tighter than one holds onto life itself.
“I don’t think I can come here on Sunday next week,” you tell your boyfriend as you peer down at your phone. You’re leaning over his kitchen counter going between looking at some emails and glancing at the screen.
Minghao groans, and you bite back a smile. “Are you serious? Why?”
“Yes I’m serious,” you huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “My brother’s visiting town for a bit.”
“And I can’t meet him, why?” Minghao asks with a raised brow.
You laugh. “Good point. I haven’t told him I’m dating yet though. Might be too big of a ball drop if I tell him I have a boyfriend right away. A boyfriend who’s SECTOR’s best racer, might I add,” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water from the fridge before joining Minghao on the couch.
“It would be a good surprise though, right?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat,” you shoot sarcastically. “But seriously. I’ll see if I can get you two to meet, but I really can’t see you on Sunday. I have to pick Beomgyu up from the airport.”
“Got it,” Minghao agrees, shuffling closer to you as you both focus on the TV. A live interview with Kim Mingyu plays on the screen, the young man talking about his recent rise in recognition. You two sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Minghao speaks up.
“I fucking hate not being able to do anything,” he groans, shifting onto your shoulder slightly. His condition’s gotten exponentially better in past couple of weeks, but you instructed for him to wait at least two more weeks before fully getting back to training.
He’s been restless ever since, you’ve started to notice. “Do I really need to wait?” he mutters, lips close to your ear as you cuddle into his embrace.
You pull back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yes! I told you—it’s a part of the process.”
“Fuck the process, I wanna drive again!”
“Too bad I guess,” you say with a shrug, turning your attention to the TV. The channel moves on from the interview to talk about some updates, and eventually somewhere in the mix, Minghao’s name comes up, and you hear the man next to you curse under his breath.
Chewing on your tongue, you debate for a few moments on what to do before reaching for the remote to shut the TV off.
“Hey! I was watching th—”
“Do you ever stop complaining?” you huff, stepping out of his embrace much to Minghao’s dismay. “Stop moving,” you order him, sliding down onto your knees in front of his legs.
“What are you do—oh.” You hear the words dry on his tongue when you nudge your body between his thighs, inching closer to his groin.
“You’re so restless,” you hum, trailing your fingers from his knees, over his thighs, and finally let the ghost over the growing tent under his sweatpants. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you suggest, toying with the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.
“O-okay,” Minghao agrees, and you grin at the way you see his cheeks flush pink when you inch the fabric off of his pants. His cock springs out, hardening under your gaze as it slaps against his lower adobe that’s still covered by his shirt.
You think for a moment to help Minghao out of his shirt too, but with the pretty pearl of precum dribbling off his slit, veins pressing up all against the length of his cock—all of him aching just for you—you start to feel your mouth water, forgetting about anything that isn’t having Minghao’s cock in your mouth.
“Careful with the right arm, ‘kay?” you tell him, a sly smirk tugging at your lips when you bring them down, dragging them over the base of his length all the way up to the glossy tip where you place a wet kiss.
“Y-yeah—fuck baby,” Minghao grunts when you envelope your lips around his throbbing tip, tongue swirling over the slit at the top as you do so. His left arm makes its way into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp when you pull back to take a deep breath.
Saliva drips down the corner of your lips, and as you look up at Minghao with wide, glossy eyes, he thinks he might bust in on the spot. “Go on baby,” he murmurs, using his firm grip on your head to nudge your lips closer to his pink tip. “Put it in …” he instructs, and when you grin and open your lips wide once more, Minghao knows he’s too far gone to be saved.
“You’re so hard Hao,” you whisper against him, tongue tracing constellations over the base of his cock when you reach to cup his balls, massaging them under your palms.
“Fuck, just like that baby,” Minghao moans, and the sound is so guttural it has your own pussy clenching around nothing. Your skin burns when you take him into your mouth again, cock sliding further down your mouth than before.
He’s so thick, and you feel every last curve of his cock, every last vein, against your cheeks, pressing against your tongue—Minghao is all you can taste, and you might go drunk on the sensation alone.
And he isn’t faring quite well above you either—his hand in your hair has got a firm hold but if anything, Minghao is losing touch with reality. Your mouth is so soft and so warm, your tongue so meticulous with the way it’s swirling around his tip when you slip off his cock before pushing your mouth back down on him—he’s going fucking crazy.
“Baby—oh baby,” the words rumble at the base of his chest, egging you on. With every bob of your head, you start to take him down further until his fat tip is battering against the back of your throat and yeah, it’s got tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but he’s moaning and grunting and squirming all for you and you just can’t seem to fucking stop.
“Shit, shit, shit—baby, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns when you deep throat all of him, your nose nearly pressing against his pelvis as you press your eyes tight and revel in the sound of his moans, the feeling of his hands in your hair.
You take his slice of warning as a token of advice, pulling back for only a breath before attempting to do the same thing again, shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, rubbing whatever you can’t with your palms as wetness smears all over your lips and cheeks.
“Oh—fuck, I’m—”
When Minghao cums, it’s with his chest singing your name. Breathy moans—calls for you—as you suck him through the high, hot white painting the inside of your cheeks and tongue. You pant heavily when you finally pull yourself off of him, swallowing all that is left of him in your mouth, and then he looks at you with flushed cheeks and you both grin.
And when you climb up, Minghao hugs you. He hugs you like a blanket—like the blanket he made you, the blanket you taught him to make—and you two bask in this moment because Minghao is no longer stranger, but he is here and he is in your arms and you are in is, and there isn’t any other place you’d rather be.
a/n: mika ramble time! whatever demonic sickness has been haunting me for the past 5 days will NOT get the best of me. i have been aching to get this fic out since like september and it was initially supposed to be posted on hubbie's bday but :/ unfortunately i was a bit late bc life gets in the way ;c overall i'm really happy w it! personally, i think this is among the most emotional fics i've written, and i am extremely proud of myself for some parts of this so !! yea !! if u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it, pls feel free to leave comments / reblogs >_< they mean the world to me ^^
#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#svt angst#minghao smut#minghao x reader#xu minghao x reader#xu minghao smut#xu minghao fanfic#xu minghao angst#minghao angst#the8 x reader#the8 angst#📝 writing#flight of the stars
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them accidentally ditching you on your bday - pu
hhu, vu, pu
part 2
content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.
wc: 2766
a/n: tysm to the few ppl who requested this i hope u like it! pls lmk if u want a pt. 2! i decided to go on a diff direction for minghao's for further angst hehe sorry </3
masterlist
jun -
jun's absence was always a source of sadness for you. it was hard to not miss such a special person in your life, especially when his absence was so frequent due to his career.
dating an idol was difficult, but jun always made it worth it. he kept you to himself, always prioritizing you as much as he could. no day would go by in which he didnt contact you one way or another, even if it was just a quick 'i love you.'
these past two weeks had been hectic for him. going back and forth between china and korea, and even japan all at once had him in planes almost constantly. if he wasnt at a concert, he was at a fansign, and if he wasnt at a fansign, he was at some fashion event. there was no rest for a single member of seventeen during times like these. but despite that, life had smiled at jun's exhausted state for once. he had three consecutive days off; with one of them falling on your birthday.
you had insisted that using up his very rare free time on you was unnecessary. that you'd be happy to just have him home as he slept for the entirety of the three days, but he had insisted to spend the day with him. had even convinced you to cancel all other plans you may have originally had for your special day in favor of spending it with him. he had been unable to promise you anything grandiose, cringing at himself when he told you it'd just be a nice day in between the two of you. nothing made you happier than the thought, assuring him it was more than enough.
the day prior to your birthday, he had decided to go stay with his parents. he hadnt seen them in a while, and they were currently staying in jun's home in korea, so it was perfect. he was still a bit exhausted from the previous twelve days in which had received no more than four hours of sleep at a time, but he headed straight to them the moment he landed nonetheless. it was a nice evening he had with them, catching up and being fed home cooked meals by his mom. he went to sleep a bit late, but not until after facetiming you to let you know how excited he was to to spend your birthday with you. it was 1am by then, so technically it had been your birthday already. he let you go at some point, letting you know he'd be in your home by 11am sharp with a gift in hand.
the next day came sooner than expected, with jun groggily waking up, drool on his pillow showing the very deep slumber he had fallen under. he had not slept so well in months, not having allowed himself a healthy eight hours of sleep in a very long time. it was weird, though, he felt way too well rested, more than you'd expect from a regular night of sleep. upon checking the clock he realized why. it was now 2pm .. had he slept a total of twelve hours?! how exhausted had he been? it was now three hours after the time he was supposed to be meeting you. he ran to his phone to check if you'd called, only to find it dead. he had forgotten to charge it before heading to sleep. his exhaustion had truly gotten the best of him last night.
he gave it ten minutes go charge before turning it on, immediately wincing at your ten missed calls and your dejected messages wondering why he was gone, even worrying if anything had happened until finally tracking his location and realizing he had been home the whole time. you did not have his parents' number, so it had been impossible for you to contact him. by the end of the messages you'd informed him that you'd just go for a quick lunch with your friends, letting him know that it was okay if he just stayed home with his parents if he so wished. you'd only hoped he couldve kept you in mind before changing plans.
his day off could not have gotten any worse.
soonyoung -
admittedly, soonyoung could be a bit ... air-headed at times. its not that he didnt think, but more like he acted on impulse rather than logic. this would sometimes lead him to issues in various areas of his life. including your romantic relationship.
you'd been dating soonyoung for a while, already growing used to his silly antics by now. he was a silly boy, who could blame him! you found him endearing more than anything, always making you laugh and find joy in the little things. your relationship had been nothing but fun so far. not only was he entertaining to be around, but he was also a loving boyfriend and practically obsessed with you. he was affectionate to a fault, always doting on you. at some point he became a bit of an annoyance to his members, constantly showing you off to them in your absence. just like with anything else in life, when it came to you, he didnt think much. he just went based on feelings, and his feelings for you were quite strong.
this was why you were confused as to why your boyfriend was absent at this moment. the same boy who could not go five minutes away from you (whenever his job didnt get in the way, of course) without whining, had seemingly forgotten your plans for the day.
soonyoung was supposed to return from japan this morning after two weeks of absence from your shared home. you had told him it was fine if he wanted to rest instead of doing something for your birthday, which coincidentally landed today. a day in with him was more than enough, you'd assured him, but he insisted that all he needed upon his return was a quick nap with you and then he'd be ready to head out for a night out with you. except he never showed up. you waited and waited, receiving no explanation from him. you even called him multiple times, but he mustve kept his phone on airplane mode, as he never responded. you knew how easily distracted he could be, but to straight up forget to come home was too much, even for his standards.
it wasnt until five hours after his supposed arrival that you found out what had happened to him. you received a call from a very exhausted minghao, letting you know that his driver would be dropping off soonyoung at your home shortly. he and the boys had gone for a spontaneous drink after the flight, with chan having lost some sort of bet and having to buy them all drinks as punishment upon arrival. there was no mention of your birthday during the call, making you think that it had even slipped soonyoung's mind to let his members know he had previous plans.
the annoyance you were feeling was the least of your problems at the moment. you'd probably have to deal with a drunk soonyoung as soon as he and minghao arrived, having to put your feelings aside as you took care of him in order to ensure a painless hangover the next morning, yet another day in which he had to work. not only had he forgotten you, but he had prevented you from making any plans to favor spending time with him, time which would now be spent babying him until sleep took over him.
minghao -
the day had started well. you had woken up to a beautiful message from your loving boyfriend, with a few selfies attached as he told you how much he loved you and how badly he wanted to be home with you right now to celebrate your birthday. you felt truly loved upon exiting your room to find a few different bouquets of flowers, all labeled as 'from: xu minghao', your sweet boyfriend who would always give you small showcases of his affection such as this one.
he had left before you were able to wake up, having scheduled as early as 4am. he had a fashion show to attend today, along with many other previous engagements in regards to his idol life. but you were fine with it! he had promised you time and time again that he'd be home on time by 7 or 8-ish in order to have a romantic dinner with you. this had been the birthday celebration you had been looking forward to the most. you had a quick breakfast with a few friends, along with a small brunch with some family, which meant the final and most important part of your day would come last. you were extremely excited. it was a birthday dinner with the love of your life, a luxury you did not often get due to minghao's overly packed schedule.
at 6, you began to get ready, opting for a cute outfit that would have the usually composed salivating over you. at 7, you had all dinner arrangements ready. minghao had asked mingyu to drop off some dishes earlier in the day, claiming he had wanted to cook for you himself but the fashion show would leave him with no time, instead deciding to ask his best friend to do him a solid since he had been off earlier than minghao today. everything was ready by 7:30, so now all you had to do was wait.
you waited until 8, which soon became 9, only to become 10:30 and then 11 in what almost felt like minutes. you knew your boyfriend did not carry his personal phone with him during public schedules, so you didn't bother calling him, instead choosing to confirm his location with his manager, who let you know he had been driven to an after-party at around 8:30, thirty minutes after your established meeting time.
by 11:30 you had already put on your pajamas, dejectedly picking up all the dishes and saving them for another day. you weren't just disappointed, but you were sad too. he had promised you this for days, only to pick an optional schedule over you. this was very unlike him, but you still did not want to give him a pass for his carelessness.
he came back by 12, apologizing as soon as he spotted you waiting for him on the couch, only to be interrupted by you.
"minghao ... what the fuck? you say you'll be here by 8 and just ditch me for a stupid after party? is there any explanation for this or were you just trying to be a dick?", you knew you went too hard too fast, not even letting him finish his apology, but you were mad.
the venom in your voice seemed to irritate him almost immediately, causing a scary side of minghao to come out. he was never mean, per say, but he could be a bit too cold and direct sometimes. he seemed to forget his mistake immediately, instead pining the fault on you.
"y/n, im an idol. this is my job. you know its my dream to get into the fashion field. i need networking to do that. as my partner you have to understand that. its not like i didnt warn you itd be today."
"and i do understand! but all night? you could've told me. you couldve gone back on your word and i wouldve understood, but you-"
"listen. im not gonna have a conversation if you keep yelling. calm down, and when you decide to act like an adult, ill be willing to discuss this with you," it was so easy for him to dismiss you, which shocked you. he was usually so attentive.
"are you .. are you serious? are you drunk?"
"believe it or not, we're not all waiting for this day to put all our own shit aside and celebrate. i cant believe you're not being supportive. you havent even asked me how it went, i-"
"you know what? you're right. im sorry. i hope it went great, minghao. i'm gonna go to sleep now, if you dont mind. goodnight," there was truly no use in arguing. you knew him to be incredibly stubborn, and he was starting to hurt your feelings. so you marched to sleep, deciding to take the guest room instead, slamming the door shut as you finally let yourself cry at your boyfriend's lack of care.
chan -
chan was an exemplary boyfriend. he was, for lack of a better term, down tremendously bad for you. one simple look from you and he was reporting for duty, ready to do whatever you wanted. this behavior manifested in every aspect of your relationship, making him be labeled as a bit of a simp by all your mutual friends. chan did not mind this, however, being insanely into you and willing to go through all lengths to make sure you knew how loved you were by him.
your relationship was very much like a friendship, allowing the two of you to joke around and hang out as friends would, but also having all the special benefits of a committed relationship. you'd show up for each other more than anyone else, making your bond stronger than any other in your respective lives.
you had expected this to be the same case for your birthday. you hadn't mentioned it much, knowing chan was coincidentally busy during that week. you blamed him in no way for his busy schedule, always supporting his passions and even egging him on whenever he wanted to take on even more challenges (although also scolding him whenever he burnt himself out too much). but you were still somehow expected he would at least mention it.
you were surprised to wake up that day - having fallen asleep before chan's arrival home - to no type of reaction from chan. he was already awake, almost ready to leave for yet another busy day of schedules, with no single word mentioning your birthday. you knew he was insanely busy, but not even a quick 'happy birthday'? in the back of your mind you had hoped maybe he would at least bring you flowers or something upon his return the previous night, but he had clearly headed to sleep upon arrival. for someone who was usually a romantic, his lack of reaction surprised you.
deciding not to make a big deal out of it, you didn't say anything, simply bidding him goodbye with a quick kiss and an 'i love you' to match. you had the day off, but no real plans made, so you decided to just mope around the house, maybe schedule a date with one of your friends for the evening. you had kept your schedule open in the off chance than maybe chan wouldve planned a quick little something. you knew you could've just communicated this to your boyfriend, but you had wanted the romantics sue you!
surprisingly, you received a call a few minutes after chan's departure; one from one of your closest mutual friends, one boo seungkwan. it was very likely that he had remembered today's date, very much unlike your boyfriend.
"hi, kwannie," you replied upon answering.
"baby! happy birthday!!! love you!"
you sighed, "thank you, boo. love you too."
"aigoo, something wrong? sad channie can't stay in today?", you could hear and see his pout through the phone.
"no, kwannie. it's nothing. don't worry about it," even if you were slightly annoyed, you didnt want to throw your boyfriend under the bus.
"no! tell me!! you can't be sad on your birthday, cmon!"
"well .. chan kinda, uh, forgot."
"what? did he say anything?"
"nope. just left without saying anything."
"aish, that idiot. don't worry, i'll take care of this, i'll-"
"no, kwan! it's fine. i dont wanna make a big deal out of it. you guys are busy with your comeback. it's okay, i'll get over it."
"but, baby-"
"kwan, really. i'm fine, i swear. have a good day for me, okay? love you."
he humphed, but accepted your response, "fine. you better have fun today too, though, okay? love you."
and that was the end of it. you would now probably spend the next few hours a bit dejected, not looking forward to the inevitable moment in which your boyfriend realized his mistake, knowing you couldn't really be mad at him due to his busy lifestyle, but feeling hurt nonetheless.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen reactions#svt reactions#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung fanfic#soonyoung angst#hoshi scenarios#hoshi fanfic#hoshi angst#hoshi x reader#minghao x reader#minghao scenarios#minghao angst#minghao fanfic#lee chan x reader#chan scenarios#chan angst#dino angst#dino x reader#dino fanfic#jun fanfic#jun angst#jun x reader
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felix felicis
summary. befriending minghao, the slytherin your friends (no one knows why) hated was horrifying at first. but after some time passed, you’d start wondering if it was some unknown side effects of felix felicis
word count. 7k. wtf.
warnings. mentions of social anxiety, swearing
genre. fluff with a pinch of angst i guess? angst/comfort? however u call it + a lil bit of humour :D
au. hogwarts :D slytherin!hao x hufflepuff!reader
extra. svt cameo and (g)idle cameo bc queen card is stuck in my head + i remembered that one minnie photo in slytherin scarf and i was like??? let’s gooo!!
a/n. this was so fun to write???? lmk if u like hogwarts au, i might write more in such vibes in the future!!! :D
you stormed into the classroom, textbooks almost falling out of your arms. you quickly scanned the room to see if snape was there… and of course he was there.
“um, good morning! i’m sorry for being late” you blurted out, walking over to your friends.
“what was it this time, miss l/n?” snape grunted, his eyes piercing your soul.
“the stairs” you mumbled, ready to shuffle over to mingyu, your friend. the slytherins snickered at your answer and snape stopped you with a tsk.
“miss l/n, since you’re late let me enlighten you. you’re doing a pair project on brewing felix felicis. and since you’re late you’ll be working with…” snape paused dramatically, looking for someone who didn’t have a pair “… mr xu”
“oh that’s just bullshit” seungkwan hissed, crossing his arms. dokyeom gasped dramatically.
“mr boo, i believe it is my task to pair students. if you’re disagreeing with that, you’re disagreeing with me. which means…” snape stopped, leaving the conclusion to seungkwan.
“just you wait until we tell soonyoung or seungcheol” kwan whispered to you. your older friends will be outraged as well, that’s for sure.
“move to your partner’s desk, miss l/n” your professor ordered and you gave last pleading look to your friends and slowly moved over to minghao, a fellow slytherin.
“poor y/nnie…” mingyu sighed.
it’s not like you personally hated slytherins or had a problem with minghao and his friends. it was your friends who didn’t like them (especially the gryffindors – seungkwan, soonyoung, deokyeom and chan). the main reason of your fear was purely your social anxiety and separation from your friends. and, well, the fact the slytherins were slightly intimidating. you heard they were gossiping about your friends and merlin knows if they weren’t gossiping about you either.
as snape started his introduction to felix felicis, you stood next to minghao. your fingers anxiously played with the hem of your book, avoiding eye contact.
minghao sighed, regretting his friends were older than him (which meant they had different classes right now). well, he’ll just complain about it later. suddenly he caught minnie and shuhua, his slytherin peers, looking at him playfully.
there goes discretion.
“cat got your tongue?” he asked out of the blue, causing you to look up. you shook your head, trying to figure out what to say. hi i’m y/n? how are you? the weather is nice today?
“no” you said softly after a short while “i’m just listening”
“oh? you always seem extra chatty during potions when you’re with those half bloods though” minghao smirked, looking at your friends. you did the same.
seungkwan made a gesture of cutting his throat, which made you scoff.
“but i’m assuming that’s good you’re listening for once. because don’t you dare mess up the position” the dark haired boy’s voice made you turn around slowly, eyes widening “what? felix felicis usually takes up to five months to brew and i wanna get it done as soon as possible”
“oh” you mumbled. minghao fell quiet too, noticing the crease between your brows. suddenly you nodded, sending him a soft smile “i see. i’ll try my best”
you started taking notes of what snape was saying. minghao though, was surprised.
you were so… gentle. no snarky comments that’s he’s a mean, bad slytherin.
that was refreshing, to say at least.
after the class came to an end, you closed your books and said a quiet goodbye to minghao, rushing to mingyu and your other friends.
“how did you even survive?” seungkwan laughed, side eyeing the slytherin boy that was passing you by.
“hey! it wasn’t bad! he’s nice!” you frowned, following your friends’ tracks and going to find the others.
minghao smiled softly upon hearing your words and went to find his mates before the gossip reaches them.
all the potion classes so far were… peaceful. you worked mostly in silence. but not in awkward silence. his presence was comforting to be around and your gut told you that he’s feeling the same way too. minghao never really give you snarky, mean comments. well, maybe towards your friends or directly at them when they were staring. but never you.
somehow, you weren’t late for the today’s classes. in fact, you were even a little earlier. with no sight of your friends anywhere near, you leaned against the wall and grabbed the book you were currently reading.
lost in your world, you didn’t notice that minghao arrived. he was looking at you with curiosity and even wanted to approach you, when jun showed up.
“oh, i’ve been looking for you!” jun called suddenly, causing you to jerk in surprise. you noticed the two slytherins, wondering when they arrived here.
as you slid down the wall and sat on the floor to continue reading, the boys started talking.
“what do you want?” minghao asked calmly, his eyes still glued to you, a soft smile forming on his face when he recognised the book you were reading. jun turned around, smiling playfully and swinging on his feet.
“are you coming to the three broomsticks this weekend? you didn’t answer jeonghan when he asked you” jun hummed. minghao nodded, shifting his gaze to his friend “good. because we have a lot of things to talk about”
“what do you mean?” minghao grunted and jun just wriggled his brows. the younger punched him, causing jun to squeal.
“okay, okay! you need to start meditating again” jun chuckled and managed to duck another punch that was coming his way “okay! i’m going! have fun!”
minghao just rolled his eyes and once jun was gone, the doors to the classroom opened.
“since you’re here already you can come in” snape announced and disappeared again in the dark classroom.
minghao walked up to you and reached his hand out.
you looked up, closing your book. as a confused frown painted on your face, dokyeom, seungkwan, mingyu and vernon appeared in the hallway.
“don’t make me wait” minghao mumbled coldly. you sent him a warm smile and grabbed his hand. he pulled you gently, helping you stand up.
“YAH!”
you didn’t turn around, you whose voice was that (dokyeom’s). minghao though, tilted his head slightly and send a small smirk to your friends.
“thank you” a hum left your lips and the slytherin nodded, going into the classroom.
mingyu ran up to you, grabbing your face.
“are you okay?!” he yelled out dramatically, causing you to giggle.
the progress on your potion so far was amazing. it had the right consistency although there was still a lot of work ahead. not to mention your bonds. you didn’t even notice when you started getting along and becoming closer, chatting more and more during the lesson. you discovered that you two have a lot in common and in fact, minghao isn’t that bad as your friends think. he’s pretty cool once you got to know him and above all, you enjoyed his company.
while he was chopping something, you turned around to grab one of the ingredients but in process your wand fell on the floor.
you leaned down to grab it, cursing underneath your breath at your clumsiness. minghao put his hand on the corner of the desk, scanning carefully if you’re not gonna bump into it.
luckily you didn’t – and even if you did, you would bump onto his hand and not the sharp corner. you straightened your back and met vernon’s shocked (frightened, even) gaze. as you turned around you saw minghao taking away his hand and coming back to work. his face was the same, not showing any emotions and simply unbothered.
as blush crept up on your cheeks, you came back to work. suddenly you heard some whispers.
carefully looking around you noticed minnie talking to shuhua, glancing at you.
“did you see that?”
your stomach dropped, your hands starting to sweat. what did they mean by that? but you didn’t do anything… right?
“why did he do that?”
you didn’t even hear when minghao asked you something. you stared at the desk, mind racing with thoughts.
sudden touch on your shoulder made you flinch, your eyes flicking over to worried minghao.
“are you okay?” he asked quietly. letting out a shaky breath, you didn’t realise you were holding, you nodded “you’re a terrible liar”
“isn’t that a good thing though?” you asked with a smile, trying to calm down. minghao scoffed and you took a glance at minnie.
“hufflepuffs…” he mumbled and saw you’re looking away. when he met his friend’s gaze, she stopped gossiping and started working again. minnie’s eyes were locked on minghao’s hand on your shoulder. he took it off, realisation hitting him “i’ll talk to her”
“what? no! what do you mean?” you panicked, tugging his sleeve. this caused his eyes to widen. well, not only his but also your friends’. you cleared your throat and took your hand away “i mean… it’s nothing”
“sure” he grunted angrily, returning to his previous task “don’t mess up the potion”
you but your lip worriedly, nodding slowly. great, you made him angry.
when the lesson ended, you grabbed your stuff and left the classroom. he probably thinks you’re weird now. and what was gonna minnie think about you? it’s not like you wanted to get her in trouble. it’s just…
“yah, y/n!” minghao’s voice made you turn around. you stopped in the middle of the crowd, someone bumping over your shoulder.
seungcheol happened to talk with your ravenclaw friends - joshua, jihoon and wonwoo. they were probably waiting for you to finish your classes since after them you were supposed to go to the three broomsticks. however once seungcheol noticed minghao is bothering you, he was ready to intervene.
you blinked at the slytherin boy as he approached you.
“did i say something?” he asked quietly, aware of your friends watching.
“no! it’s just…” you trailed off, trying to find a way to word your worries without sounding like a weirdo. he’s friends with minnie after all. minghao was waiting patiently “you don’t have to talk to minnie. she was just chatting and i… i guess i was just overthinking. i didn’t want to make you mad or something….”
he scoffed.
you know that it was an amused scoff. seungcheol however, thought it was making fun of you kind of scoff.
“hey, minghao! don’t you have better things to do?” your older friend called, walking over to you. jihoon rolled his eyes.
“none of your business. i’m not talking to you, you filthy–“ minghao stopped in his tracks, looking at you.
“don’t call him like that” you mumbled, sending him a grumpy look “and you, cheol, can you give us a moment?”
“no, it’s fine. i won’t say a thing to minnie, if that’s what you want” minghao grunted, sending seungcheol an angry look. then, shifting his gaze towards you his features softened ever so slightly “and i wasn’t mad at you. i was mad at minnie. but anyways… see you soon”
he walked away, disappearing in the crowd of students.
“what the fuck was that?” seungcheol growled. he wasn’t too happy to find out that you’re working with minghao and now that you seem to be… talking to him? he has a bad feeling. well, not only him.
“it was a normal conversation” you sighed and saw vernon, mingyu, seungkwan and dokyeom coming your way.
“oh my god! did you see that?!” seungkwan yelled out, catching the older’s attention.
“what? don’t even tell me it was something bad, i wanna beat him up already” soonyoung crossed his arms. suddenly chan joined you, making the group complete.
“he–“ mingyu started and you just walked up to the ravenclaws, joshua linking his arm with you.
“they’re overreacting, aren’t they?” wonwoo giggled upon seeing your annoyed look.
“they so are! he’s not bad! they just… didn’t get to know him. i don’t get the slytherin hate” you grunted “not all of them are bad, right?”
“right. it’s just that… you have to be careful. they’re overreacting, i agree, but we don’t want you to get sad” jihoon hummed
“why would i get sad?” you furrowed your brows. the three of them exchanged suspicious looks. joshua shrugged with a playful smile.
“in case cheol beats him up or something” wonwoo sighed dramatically. upon hearing his name, seungcheol skipped over to you.
“pfff… he’s so not going to beat him up. minghao knows material arts! isn’t that so cool?” your eyes lit up and you let out a squeak when seungcheol playfully punched your arm
“i would defeat him in two seconds!” he grinned goofily, causing you all to burst out laughing.
three months passed and you’d consider minghao your friend. at this point, you see each other every day. not only you have potions together but also transfiguration, defence against the dark arts and much more. you were always so focused on sticking to your friends that you never really realised he’s there. one day minghao even sat with you during history of magic since mingyu and vernon sat together – of course later on soonyoung gave you a lecture about running away if it happens again in the future. you didn’t. – and it stayed like that. even during other classes.
that’s how you ended up getting your first detention. you were trying to keep quiet but he was just telling you a story when jun fell asleep with his eyes open in the school corridor and scared the living shit out of filch.
“mrs l/n, mr xu! you can always go on a date after classes. mind telling us what’s so funny? or maybe you’re just so ahead with the book that you don’t have to listen during my lessons?” flitwick asked, causing you to freeze. you looked at the man, nodding politely as your cheeks turned red. minghao, however, wasn’t impressed.
“well, actually–“ he started, causing you to kick his ankle under the desk “ow!”
“actually what, mr xu?” flitwick rose his eyebrows. you felt the whole class gaze on you two, causing you to redden even more. you hate being in the centre of attention and minghao was certainly having the fun of his life.
“actually i’d love to present the spell we were just talking about. y/n explained it to me lately” minghao shrugged and your eyes widened.
“what are you–“ you started, unable to finish because–
“aqua eructo!” minghao waved his wand happily and you let out a yelp upon water landing all over your head “oh shit–!”
his smile faded away upon seeing you drenched in water… and the rest of the class being soaked.
so that’s how you ended up cleaning it without wands (“because it would be too easy, right?”)
“what were you thinking?” you laughed, wiping the floor while being on your knees.
“i just felt like showing off…” he giggled, looking over at you
“but?” you smiled, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your forearm.
“but… someone made me nervous” he smirked. you rose your eyebrows, looking at him.
“who? flitwick?” your question caused him to scoff, a toothy grin springing on his face.
“yeah, flitwick”
once you were finished it was past 10pm so if you were caught, you definitely would be in trouble.
“i’ll walk you to the dorms” minghao offered.
“but…” you started, not wanting him to lose his sleep time, that he already wasted on the cleaning.. he linked his arms with you with a shy smile.
“no buts. because of me you were stuck and had to help me with the mess. it’s the least i can do. and also… thank you” he explained and you looked at him, melting completely.
“no problem” you grinned and turned around, causing him to almost fall over “but you’re going the wrong way”
you were chatting quietly, almost arriving at your dorms, when suddenly minghao pulled you closer to hide behind a column.
“what–?!” you gasped, taken aback by his action. he just put his free hand over your mouth, head leaning back.
observing his handsome profile made you realise how close you were, his body pressing onto yours. if he turned his head, there would be very little space between your faces–
and he did just that. your heart skipped a bear when minghao looked at you, lips slightly parted. his chest was moving up and down irregularly, trying to keep his breathing as quiet as he could.
he slowly took off his hand from your mouth, sending you an apologetic smile. you looked at his lips quickly – and whether he noticed or not, minghao pulled back.
“filch” he gulped, nodding his head “but it’s safe now”
you nodded as well, realising you were holding onto his hand. you let it go, coughing awkwardly.
“you can go now, it’s close from here” you mumbled, looking up at him. he seemed a bit distracted, which was… weird.
“huh? oh. i’ll go, yeah. wait, do you… are you busy tomorrow?” he asked quietly. you blinked slowly. tomorrow? saturday.
“no. i mean no, i’m not busy” you whispered, trying to remember how to breathe. what was he–
“do you wanna, uh… hang out? in hogsmeade? we can meet after dinner and…” he stopped, clearing his throat. he looked at you nervously, trying to come up with an excuse if you haven’t agreed but–
“i’d love to” you sent him a warm smile. minghao’s eyes lit up, and so did his face.
“see you tomorrow then! and have a good night, y/n!” he grinned and waved happily. you waved back, wishing him a good night as well. you only left after he was gone, the echo of his footsteps turning into peaceful silence.
when you arrived to the dorm, you leaned against the wall. pressing your hand to your chest you realised how ridiculously fast was it beating. is it because of him? it has to be. fuck, did you fell in love or something? no, it’s just the fact that he wanted to hang out with you. alone. on saturday.
mingyu, vernon and cheol were waiting for you, heads turned your way the second they heard someone coming inside the common room. they looked at each other, surprised at your actions.
“i was so stressed! i thought he kidnapped you!” cheol yelled out, causing you to flinch. oh. they’re here. vernon grinned goofily upon your expression “so?! what happened?!”
“it’s just… nothing. nothing happened” you hummed, unable to stop smiling. mingyu let out a sudden gasp “nothing!”
“yeah, sure! why are you smiling like that?!” seungcheol whined.
“i had a fun time, that’s it” you mumbled and shook your head “i’m tired, bye!”
they watched you run to your dorm. vernon winked at mingyu and seungcheol frowned.
“a fun time? with minghao? something’s wrong” he sighed “i don’t like it… and him”
miyeon was looking at you amused as you were panicking, running around the dorm and digging through your clothes
“i shouldn’t be nervous. it’s not a date” you breathed out and grabbed your black and yellow striped sweater.
“it’s a date. also don’t take the sweater, it’s warm” miyeon giggled, standing up from the bed. you put it away, taking a deep sigh.
“you think it’s a date? he just asked if i’m busy today…” you trailed off, looking at her unsurely. thank merlin you had friends like her, with the boys you wouldn’t be able to even have a chat like that. and maybe that’s why you didn’t realise it was a date… or so miyeon said.
“it’s definitely a date. besides…” she trailed off. miyeon fixed your hair that were falling on your face “you look so pretty. now go. and remember, don’t stress”
“i’m not” you sent her a playful look and she just laughed
“if i seungcheol or soonyoung ask about you… uh, i’ll figure something out so don’t worry about that” she giggled mischievously and patted your back “now go, for god’s sake! and please don’t eat too fast during dinner, you’ll choke!”
“okay!” you saluted and stormed out of the girls dorm, causing the three of your hufflepuff friends chilling in the common room to turn their heads.
“minnie was so right, they’ll look so cute together” she whispered once you were gone, rushing to find her friends and tell them about the news.
you tried to follow miyeon’s advice, you really did but upon seeing minghao wearing his casual clothes and waiting for you… you couldn’t help but speedily wolf down your food.
before approaching him you looked around if there are some familiar faces. fortunately, there weren’t. which was suspicious to be honest but at the moment it wasn’t your biggest worrry.
you left the great hall and noticed him leaning against the wall, his features pensive. however, his eyes lit up upon seeing you and you couldn’t help but mirror the wide smile he gave you.
“hi” you hummed, standing in front of him. minghao scanned your face, a mysterious glint in his eyes
“hi y/n. did you sleep well?” he asked, tilting his head. such a simple question and yet, your heart is going crazy. and you didn’t sleep well… you had troubles falling asleep due to excitement rushing through every vein and vessel in your body but obviously you’re not going to tell him that–
“i did, thank you for asking. and you? hopefully you didn’t run into flich on your way back?” you gasped. minghao shook his head and gestured you to start walking.
while you were chatting during the walk to hogsmeade, your hands brushed a couple of times. you tried your best to ignore it but you had a bad feeling that he was well aware of it as well.
“it’s so… oddly empty today, isn’t it?” you blurted out, the path looking nothing like usually on weekends: swarmed with crowds of excited students. and right now… nothing. just you, him and birds chirping in the trees.
“there’s a quidditch match today so i figured i’d be the perfect opportunity to… you know, hang out” he said a bit shyly
“oh yeah. i didn’t even think about this. that’s good, i’m afraid seungcheol would kill me. and you. if he saw us” a heavy sigh left your mouth and he just chuckled.
“i’ve been wondering… how did you even become friends?” minghao asked. his hand once again accidentally brushed yours, sending sparks down your spine.
“well… at first it was only mingyu and vernon. i just sticked to them after the sorting hat announced we’re hufflepuffs. vernon became friends with seungkwan and dokyeom, who were friends with soonyoung since he accidentally got them in trouble at their first day. mingyu befriended wonwoo and seungcheol. and seungcheol is older, so he was already friends with joshua and jihoon. it just… they kind of adopted me” you laughed, a bright smile painted on his lips too “and i don’t mind. i really have problems with socialising so well, yeah, it was awkward at first but i’m really glad i’m friends with them. sometimes they make you extroverted even if you’re the most socially awkward person ever. which i am. and because of that chan is our friend too! i adopted him”
minghao grinned, looking at your proud face. he recalled how many times you were hanging out with the younger gryffindor boy which now made extra sense.
“same with the girls, kind of. my roommate is miyeon! and miyeon is friends with soyeon and yuqi. i mean we’re not that close as i am with the boys but still, i love hanging out with them” you explained, crossing your arms. speaking of which, did miyeon even check the weather? it wasn’t that warm…
“you do know that they’re friends with minnie and shuhua, right?” minghao asked slowly, scanning your face.
“yeah, of course! that’s kind of why… back then i didn’t want you to talk to minnie. it bothered me because i was overthinking, you know… what would she think of me? she’d tell soyeon and then they would stop hanging out with me” you grumbled and minghao let a soft laugh.
“oh, y/n. they wouldn’t do that, i promise. you’re too precious” he hummed and noticed how you’re rubbing your bare arms “are you cold?”
“just a bit, but…” your voice trailed off when minghao stopped in his tracks and took off his grey hoodie. he stood behind you and helped you put it on. after that, he came back in front of you and zipped it gently.
“here you go” he hummed and you swore his ears were tinted red.
“thank you” you mumbled, not really sure what’s the source of your warmth: his hoodie or your glowing red cheeks.
in a matter of time you arrived to three broomsticks, the local not so fully crowded. minghao ordered two butter beers for you and went to find a seat while you excused yourself to the bathroom.
upon seeing your reflection you had to take a few deep breaths. his hoodie was too big on you but you liked it. besides, it actually went along with your outfit. not to mention that it smelled like him. you shook your head, trying to pull yourself together. it’s just a hoodie that he gave you because you were cold. stop being weird–
you left the bathroom and noticed minghao sitting at a table with… jeonghan and jun. he was faced back to you, so naturally he didn’t see you and his friends didn’t seem to notice you either.
you walked up, not wanting to eavesdrop but…
“what are you doing here? two beers? is that a date?!” jun sing-sung and suddenly let out a gasp, realisation settling in “with the hufflepuff girl–?!”
“what? no! shut up!” minghao grunted. jeonghan frowned, tilting his head
“that one girl that’s always attached to those bloody gryffindors? and seungcheol?” he asked and minghao started panicking.
“well yeah but– it’s not a date. it’s nothing serious. we just came here to discuss the potion, that’s it. once we’re done with it i’m done with her too” minghao explained, his breath shaking “she pisses me off, really…”
your heart dropped, hands starting to shake. so cheol was right from the begging…
“what do you mean?! you’re basically glued to each other and like, it’s nothing bad” jun frowned. your vision started getting blurry because of the tears forming in your eyes. you should go before they notice you.
“jun, end of topic. i don’t even like her that much, get it?” minghao snapped and you let out a deep breath “she’s so annoying! it’s like a torture being around her–“
“uh, minghao…” jeonghan sighed, his gaze shifting. he turned around and saw you leaving.
minghao’s heart dropped. fuck, fuck, fuck. it wasn’t supposed to be like that! why did he even…
he stood up, running after you. jun looked at his older friend and grabbed the two butter beers that minghao left behind.
“he doesn’t like her, huh? does he think we’re blind or what?” jun scoffed and they laughed, taking a sip of the beverage.
“well he may like here but she sure won’t like him now” jeonghan rolled his eyes at the younger’s stupidity.
you were wiping your cheeks, heart thumping against your rib cage. your mind was racing with thoughts but the most repetitive one was that your friends were right.
“y/n!”
he was coming after you. why bother now? you didn’t stop, harsh sobs leaving your mouth.
suddenly you bumped into something or rather, someone.
“hey! hey, y/n? oh baby!” soyeon’s voice was filled with worry and you just hugged onto her “what happened?”
you just shook your head. soyeon hugged you tightly and noticed minghao coming your way.
“i see. this asshole” she grunted and turned around, leading you towards the castle.
minghao stopped upon seeing that. right. it was probably for the best to give you some time now…? or at least talk to you alone.
well, luck wasn’t by his side.
“–the hit? i swear, you’re like a tiger when you enter the field!” chan grinned and soonyoung laughed loudly.
“isn’t that y/n?” wonwoo asked suddenly, pointing at you
they all turned around, eyes widening upon noticing your shaking body. soyeon and yuqi were walking with you, the gryffindor girl wiping your tears.
chan wanted to walk up to you but yuqi noticed him and gave him a warning look.
“not now” jihoon mumbled, pulling him back.
“what happened?” dokyeom whispered. they all watched how the girls walked you back to the dorms.
“as if i know” seungkwan rolled his eyes. joshua gasped suddenly and rushed the other way.
“what’s up with him?” seungcheol shook his head. you’ll definitely have to talk to them later.
miyeon patted your hair as you bawled your eyes out, tightly hugging your pillow.
“why do i care so much?” you breathed out, looking at her confused.
“oh, y/nnie…” she sighed, concern on her face. then it hit you.
because you like him. way more than a friend.
minghao haven’t seen you the whole weekend. he only got a lecture from minnie and shuhua about hurting your feelings, not being able to treat girls properly and all of that. as if he didn’t know he messed up. they told him you were crying the whole time and even if he didn’t believe them, the sight of you on a monday morning a proof. and it was heart breaking. especially that he knew he was the source of it.
during your lessons you sat with vernon. your friends probably didn’t know what happened yet since they seemed confused and seungcheol or soonyoung haven’t spoken to him yet. besides joshua, he kept side eyeing the slytherins every time they passed you by, especially jeonghan.
and for the first time ever minghao was looking forward to potions. you’ll have to talk to him, right? you can sit with someone else during charms but during potions you’re his partner.
however, you were absent.
“where’s miss l/n?” snape asked, clicking his tongue.
“she isn’t feeling very well, she went to madam pomfrey” mingyu explained, his voice lacking the usual enthusiasm. he looked over at minghao, and if only looks could kill...
“i see. next week i’m going to grade your potions so someone tell her that she’ll better be here” he said and have minghao a questioning look.
“what if he poisoned her? you know, so he can gain all the credits?!” seungkwan gasped a little too loudly, causing to draw attention to him.
“you’re being too dramatic, mr boo. and if mr xu did happen to do that, i’ll make sure he gets the proper punishment” snape hissed and the lesson begun.
minghao felt strange without your presence.
seungcheol grabbed your arm when you were leaving the great hall after supper. the bags under your eyes made his heart clench.
“hey, y/n. are you okay? because clearly…” he started. suddenly jihoon joined you, crossing his arms. you let out a sigh, trying to look away but you met minghao’s gaze. well to be fair, you were standing in the middle of the room.
“i’m fine. just a little sick, that’s all” you grunted “can you let me go? i’m tired”
“we need to talk” seungcheol said, voice stern. soonyoung noticed you all and stood up from your seat to join you.
“i’m tired” you repeated coldly. seungcheol turned around and saw minghao looking your way
“then i’ll just talk to him” he grunted and let you go. jihoon grabbed his arm, preventing him from going further and pointed at you.
tears gathered at your water line as you let out a deep sigh.
“y/n, chan asked you to meet with him at the gryffindor quidditch team locker room” joshua’s voice appeared from nowhere, drawing everyone’s attention. soonyoung, who joined you, frowned.
“mkay” you mumbled quietly and wiped your tears with shaky hands “i’ll talk to you later, i promise”
when you walked away, soonyoung punched seungcheol
“what did you do! you made her cry!” he grunted.
“no i didn’t!” the older yelled. while the gryffindors argued, jihoon came back to his seat. because of that none of them noticed jeonghan and minghao passing them by and the older one winking at joshua.
you sat down at the bench, waiting for chan. looking down on the floor, you were busy with swinging your feet. suddenly you heard the door open and you let out a sigh.
“finally you’re here” a hum left your mouth, the sound of door closing disturbing the quietness of the room “i’m not in the best mood to talk so sorry if…”
you looked up and words died in your throat upon seeing minghao. he was just as confused as you.
the room felt silent again (for different reasons though), tension thickening.
“y/n i need to-“ he started but you stood up, passing him by and pushing the door. well, wanting to. they didn’t bulge a bit.
“y/nnie i locked the door! have fun~!” joshua’s happy voice from the other side made you gasp
“you traitor!” you grunted, looking around slowly at minghao.
“wait, jeonghan?” he called out, frowning.
“yeah. just talk it through already, i don’t want to wait here for the whole day” jeonghan said
“why would you…?” you murmured and started looking for your wand. oh.
“let’s go further away though, let them have some privacy” joshua’s voice sounded worried and there were steps echoing on the other side.
“i wanna listen though–!” jeonghan whined.
after a moment there was silence again. minghao was looking at you, his eyes filled with guilt.
“y/n, listen to me please” he spoke softly, playing with his fingers.
“why would i? aren’t i a torture to be around with? why you even bother?” you grunted and returned to the bench, looking away from him.
it hurt. you avoided him because whenever you looked at him, your heart shattered into pieces again and again.
“i’m sorry”
you gulped, trying to look unbothered.
the sound of his steps approaching and him sitting on the bench didn’t help your case.
“i’m so fucking sorry. it’s… i shouldn’t have said that. never. i know it was horrible and i’m in no place to make excuses but listen to me, please” he said, his voice filled with genuine pain. you turned around, yet you didn’t face him. gaze stuck on the floor, as if the dust there was the most interesting thing ever, you started drumming your fingers anxiously against the bench’s surface.
“i was scared. i was scared that my friends will judge me; i was scared that they’ll tell my parents; i was scared of others, what will they think: a slytherin with a hufflepuff? i was scared… because i panicked. i panicked… because i like you. but i was afraid that if somehow someone would find out, you’d be in danger and–“ minghao sucked a breath and you noticed how close his hand was next to you, your pinkies brushing against each other “i didn’t mean any of those words that i said. well…”
minghao scanned your face. he was frightened. you were sitting silently, not answering him. will you ever forgive him.
“well?” you choked out, chest heavy.
“being around you is like a torture because i’m madly in love with you. it hurts me physically to look at you crying, to look at your pretty face and knowing i can’t kiss it. to see how wildly you’re grinning at those stupid loud ass gryffindors’ jokes–“ he halted, eyes widening. fuck, he overshared. he overshared and you’ll hate him even more than you did–
you grabbed his hand, giving it a small squeeze. minghao’s face heated up upon the gesture, his heart skipping a beat. what does this mean? are you comforting him or…?
you’re crying.
“y/n, no no no no… don’t cry, please” he panicked, leaving to kneel in front of you. with your free hand you covered your face, the rest of your body shaking.
“you’re making me cry so much, i hate you” you let out a breathy laugh, wiping your eyes even though the tears wouldn’t stop.
“what?” he whispered, his thumb reassuringly stroking your hand.
“you like me?” you chuckled, finally looking at him. his brown irises were focused on you, features softening.
“did you just full on ignore the apology part?” he scoffed, brining a smile on both of your faces
“i… i’m not going to lie, i was hurt. i felt like i was betrayed: a someone who i treated as a friend said he hated me… but… you were scared? oh, hao… i’d be an idiot to forgive you but well, aren’t i already?” you whispered. minghao tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies that appeared in his stomach due to the nickname, his head plopping down and resting against your knee.
“i’m so sorry. i’ll never forgive myself for hurting you like that. i know i broke your trust and heart probably. but please… please give me another chance” he breathed out.
you tapped his arm lightly. the slytherin boy rose his head up, eyes shining with anticipation.
“see, there’s one thing you need to know: i like you. and that horrible event made me realise that. so i’d say give me a kiss and i’ll give you a chance–“ you broke into laughter when he eagerly stood up. when he leaned closer, you put your hand on his lips, giggling even more upon his confused expression “–but for merlin’s sake i do not want our first kiss to take place in this stinky locker room”
eyes widening, minghao leaned away. with a soft oh he scrunched up his nose.
“okay, i think i know where we can go. but… jeonghan and joshua…?” he rose his eyebrows.
“easy there, lover boy” you stood up, letting go of his hand. minghao’s heart was racing, the realisation hitting him: you like him. you forgave him. and you’re willing to kiss him? if not the fact that your felix felicis wasn’t finished, he would have thought that someone poured it into his tea.
“hey bro, not to interrupt your meditation or whatever but y/n is gone” jeonghan’s voice made him snap back to reality, dropping the smile that subconsciously formed on his lips
“where’d she go?” minghao asked, looking at his older friend. jeonghan was smiling suspiciously, a mischievous smirk on his face.
minghao rushed after you, apparently walking back to your dorm.
“y/n!” he called upon seeing you in the hallway. he run up to you, ignoring the weird looks from strangers and gasps from your girl friends (including minnie’s “i told you!” and yuqi’s “wait, they made up?”)
you turned around, a goofy smile on your face.
“yeah?” your voice was filled with playfulness, alas your eyes were glinting with excitement.
“can i please kiss you? i feel like i might explode if i don’t” minghao breathed out, chest rising up and down irregularly.
“you’re not afraid of what will others think?” you teased, tilting your head slightly.
“i’ll be honest, the moment you called me a lover boy i feel like i was reborn” he grunted, his usual grumpy expression forming on his face once realising how cheesy he sounds “can i–?”
“yeah” you laughed and in no time his big, soft palms were cupping your cheeks tenderly. the air was knocked out of your lungs as soon as his pillowy lips landed against yours.
normally, your mind would be racing with what ifs: what if the others think you’re weird? what if your friends see you? what if the teachers catch you? but now… minghao soothed away your anxiety and nervousness, his embrace and the feeling of him and only him making you forget about the world.
loud cheers and applause (coming from your girl friends) in the hallway made you smile into the kiss, and he reacted the same way. without pulling away yet you put your hands on his neck, trying to bring him even closer.
minghao pulled away but didn’t lean back too far. you could see the sparks in his eyes, soft smile on his lips. and you couldn’t stare at him like that for the whole day of not the yells in the background becoming louder and louder.
“can we run away somewhere? i can hear seungcheol approaching and i do not want to be beaten up by him… and also we could have one or two more kisses…?” he mumbled looking through his shoulder to see, in fact, your older friend. soyeon, shuhua and jihoon were trying to stop him while yuqi, minnie were arguing about something with soonyoung and seungkwan (“leave them alone it’s not like he’s hurting her?!” “but the sight is hurting my eyes-!”). miyeon and wonwoo were shaking their heads, chan and vernon signalled you to run.
so you did, giggling. minghao’s hand was squeezing yours, fingers intertwined.
you stormed into the classroom, textbooks almost falling out of your arms. you quickly scanned the room to see if snape was there… and of course he was there.
“um, good morning! i’m sorry for being late” you blurted out, walking over to your desk.
“what was it this time, miss l/n?” snape grunted, his eyes piercing your soul.
“sorry for being late– ” minghao bursted into the classroom, his tie loosened and collar all over the place, revealing his neck tinted in…
“ew” mingyu grunted. as the slytherin boy walked over to you, you fixed his collar with pink cheeks. you told him to do it but obviously he’s just an attention seeker… and he has a thing for showing off you’re a couple now.
snape was speechless. he turned around, sighing.
“prepare your potions. i’ll be checking them in a minute” he announced and you looked over at minghao, his eyes sparkling with boyish playfulness.
“idiot” you scoffed and nudged his arm.
you never used felix felicis, you just didn’t see any sense of even using a potion like that. despite that, you did feel lucky that you meet minghao while working on it. maybe it was just a side effect of felix felicis? or maybe just destiny?
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @kazmura
#svt fluff#svt crack#svt reactions#svt#seventeen#svt imagines#svt fic#svt x y/n#svt x reader#svt x you#svt hogwarts#svt hp#svt au#svt angst#minghao#minghao reactions#minghao angst#minghao scenarios#minghao seventeen#minghao x y/n#the8 seventeen#minghao fluff#the8 fluff#minghao au#minghao imagines#svt scenarios#minghao fanfic#the8 fanfic#the8 imagines#the8 scenarios
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i should’ve never let you go | x.mh
- To him, love can only mean you
oneshot | 2.5k | exes! au | angst | comfort
after laying out his raw heart for you on voicemail, one part of xu minghao never expects to hear from you again. this is until you text him back asking him to meet you for the first time in over a year. with your text, minghao knows he can’t let you slip away the way he did before.
sequel to we shouldn’t have ended like this
~ pairing . xu minghao x gn!reader
~ content . exes to lovers au!, non idol au!, minghao’s a lover boy, quite cheesy at the end, can be read as a standalone fic but some minor references won’t be picked up on
~ tw/cw . suggestive, mentions of alcohol, minghao’s a bit of a dick to everyone but his s/o
~ song rec . blue jeans - lana del rey
~ author’s note . here it is, the much requested pt.2 !! thank you all for loving pt.1 so much ~~
(taglist at the end)
THE PARK BENCH IS ICE AGAINST MINGHAO’S BLUE JEANS.
His hands are tightly clasped around a medium-sized bouquet, a pink bow ribbon tying everything together. Minghao doesn’t know the first thing about flowers, just knows that carnations are your favourites. Even though there’s a slight chill in the air, Minghao is dressed nicely; short-sleeved polo rolled up to show his arms. He thought he might as well make a decent effort: after all, he’s seeing you for the first time in a year.
Soulmates used to be a concept foreign to Minghao, so foreign when his friend Jun often blabbed on about finding his ‘one true love’ - he could only scoff. Then he thought about what love meant to him. Watching all his friends fall in and out of it faster than he could blink, love didn’t mean much. Yes, he had been ‘in love’ but it had never consumed him, never broken him apart to the point he questioned his purpose of living.
Until you whispered those three words into his ear (it was early morning and you were tangled in his sheets, the linen covering your bare upper body, your eyes were barely opened but your smile was so bright, your fingertips and kisses painted his neck like a canvas. He had never seen such an angelic sight) and it all finally clicked. If this was what love felt like, then he had loved you since he first saw you.
Being in love meant loving you. To him, now love can only mean you.
Honestly, Minghao wasn’t expecting a response from you. It was three am when he sent the voicemail and after so long with no contact, you had probably moved on and found someone else. Living your life without thinking about him, is a privilege Minghao could only wish for. You were in his dreams, in his walls, staring at him in his bathroom mirror.
Although he did miss you terribly, a part of him sent a message because he wanted closure. He wanted to know you didn’t want him anymore. Maybe with your deafening silence, he could move on - live a life with you (an empty promise to himself, like a single coin in a fountain). But you didn’t.
A week after that night, Minghao received a text from your number.
It was early afternoon and Minghao was only half occupied with the tasks of the day, his head everywhere but the present. After sending that voicemail, he couldn’t seem to focus. A string of ‘what ifs’ kept constantly replaying in his head like a strip of film. At a point, he even contemplated throwing away your slippers. But as he saw them by the heater neatly lined next up to his - something deep from within him forced his whole body to stop. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Throwing away your slippers would mean giving up on you. Quitting had not got Minghao very far in life.
A notification popped up when he was scrolling mindlessly that day - he was about to swipe up. But when he saw your contact name (it’s ‘sweetheart’, he hasn’t changed it since the day he told you he loved you, the contact name even outliving your relationship), his phone almost dropped out of his hand and onto his face.
Sweetheart: How much did you drink?
Minghao’s breath hitched in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were a drunken mistake. That he wouldn’t have said what he said without the removed inhibitions from several bottles of wine. He meant every single word he said
Minghao: I’ve never been more sober in my life.
His fingers paused at his keyboard, wanting to say so much more. He wanted to tell you once again how he couldn’t live without you, how you were even more important to him than the oxygen that fills his lungs. But he settled with simple formalities instead.
Minghao: How are you?
Sweetheart: Stop pretending that you care.
Minghao could feel his entire heart shatter in his chest, had you not listened to the voicemail or even worse did you not believe him? Did you not believe his love for you? Again, you were slipping away from him right in front of his eyes, he couldn’t let you go.
Minghao: Everything I said in that voicemail was true. I care about you more than I care for myself.
Sweetheart: Meet me in the park at 2pm and prove it then.
That’s how Minghao finds himself in his local park. Coincidentally, where you both had your first date (now several years ago, he placed a pink carnation behind your ear and when he looked into your eyes, he knew you were going to be different from the others). His heart is threatening to fall out of his chest with the way it’s beating so fast. What is he supposed to say to you? What apology on earth can he give you to make up for his past actions?
The past is in the past but Minghao needs you in his future.
As if you were the grand prize in this game we call life, Minghao is a debtor using up his final pennies. He can’t afford to lose you. The universe doesn’t grant second chances easily and Minghao wasn’t a fool to let you go again.
Your relationship was the furthest thing from perfect, but your flaws matched each other in a way Minghao could never fully grasp. End pieces in a jigsaw, rose quartz and serenity in an evening sky, the rays of the sun and the glow of the moon. You were far from perfect but you were more than close enough for Minghao. He was obsessed with you and still is.
He hears the light patter of feet against the cobbled pavement. The sound gets louder and louder until it stops. Minghao looks up from his fiddling fingers, expecting it to be some dog walker whose pet doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. But then he feels a familiar tap on his shoulder, there’s only one person in this world whose touch is as light as a feather.
When he sees you, his whole world ceases to exist. It is only you that remains. For a year he wanted, craved for this moment. You were his messiah, all he wanted to do was worship you until his throat was hoarse and lips parched. He was thirsty, oh so thirsty. Only you could save him, only you could fix him. He quickly stands up to look at you. He thinks if you touch him his legs would give in and he would fall to the floor. Your presence is overwhelming, you’re taking over his sensing and clouding his thoughts.
All of his words are caught in the base of his throat, there is so much he wants to tell you - but as he tries to speak only silence escapes from his parted pink lips.
You look slightly different, something Minghao couldn’t quite put his finger on. In front of him, you are a paradigm of blues, yellows and reds: the centrepiece in an art gallery, Micheal Angelo’s greatest creation.
“These are for me?” You ask cautiously, breaking the seemingly infinite silence.
You were so surprised to hear from him after you had assumed he had fallen out of love with you months ago. You want to make sure, that you haven’t gone mad, that the love of your life is really standing in front of you.
“Of course they are,” He hands you the flowers and watches your face light up when you realise that he remembered.
“You remembered…” You say smiling, looking down and twirling the pink stain ribbon between your fingers. ‘Of course’ Minghao thinks - of course, he’d never forget. He wants to reply but he’s too captivated with your beauty to think straight.
Still lost in thought, you continue, “Where did all the time go… Back then we were so young, so naive, so… So…” You struggle to find the right words to say.
“So stupid.” Minghao’s words are breathless as you meet his ever-so-loving gaze. For the whole of your relationship, Minghao had never been the one to open up to faults - you as well. The feeling of being so naked and vulnerable is foreign to him. But he relishes in the freedom of the truth, his pride no longer holding him down in chains.
He thinks he loves you more than anyone in human history has loved before.
“I meant everything, I said in that voicemail. You were right ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this’, yet I let it happen. I made you doubt my love but to protect my pride, I just stood there, saying nothing. I thought you grew fed up with our relationship, that I wasn't what you wanted. But then I realised you were pushing me away to protect yourself, just like I did.” Minghao pauses getting slightly emotional.
“Nothing I say or do will ever be enough, I can’t turn back time I know that.
But I never stopped loving you.”
And before he can comprehend, you’re in his arms, head against his chest - your home (his heart). You drop the flowers in your right hand and Minghao circles himself around you, engulfing you in his embrace. You don’t say anything, yet a thousand words fall from your parted lips as you stare into his pools of brown (the same pools you could spread hours, days drowning in, as if fresh air didn’t exist). You smell exactly like he remembered, a mix of woods and flora. You feel like a cup of warm tea after a tiresome day, the silver lining he always looks towards. Minghao thinks there’s nothing in the world as beautiful as you.
“I should’ve never let you go…” The words tumbling out of his lips are a waterfall of emotion. Waves of relief rush over him as he feels himself around you. This is where he is supposed to be. Suddenly, everything in his life is going to be okay.
“I should have never tried to push you away in the first place ” Your hands reach up to stroke the back of his hair and he melts into your touch like butter.
This is where he belongs.
Minghao places a small kiss on the mole you have on your collarbone and it’s almost like the past year didn’t happen (you’re on a date in the city, you’re wearing his favourite dress which shows your shoulders and no matter how hard he tries, Minghao can’t keep his hands off you, pecking and nibbling at the soft skin, even if he didn’t say it much, he was enamoured with you). Minghao doesn’t notice the lingering eyes of passers-by, he even fails to realise the passage of time.
Sadly the world can’t stop for him, no matter how much it feels like it does.
With a loud honk from a car speeding down the other side of the road resonating through his eardrums, Minghao is brought back to reality. Suddenly the light weight in the back of his jeans pocket feels all too heavy and he starts to panic, pushing you away gently. You pout, feeling like you have the wrong idea and Minghao’s expression is immediately sympathetic.
“No baby, don’t worry you did nothing wrong.” He coos in a tone that had almost become foreign to him.
Never, has he used this tone with any of his hookups, even when they begged to be called sweet names, he couldn’t (looking back on this Minghao feels guilty, but those people weren’t you, they couldn’t ever be you). He’s surprised at how easily those words drift off his tongue after so long. He guesses everything just comes easier with you.
“Remember how I said, we’ll listen to your favourite jazz album while drunk on wine.” He scratches his neck bashfully as you look up to him with wide eyes.
“I may or may not have booked us two tickets to their live show in the area, I just wanted to do something again to show that I care. I know it wouldn’t make up for-"
You silence him with a kiss, and Minghao forgets where he is, what he had just said, the colour of the sky and the feeling of the ground below his feet. hell if you didn't whisper ‘It’s okay Minghao' against his lips, he would have forgotten his own name.
For Minghao, it’s you. It has always been you and it will continue to be you. Maybe until the day he dies, he thinks. But knowing himself, he would probably find a way to love you in the afterlife as well.
You drag Minghao by his arm into his dimly lit flat, lips still perfectly intertwined together like a lock and key. If your kisses are knife wounds, Minghao wouldn’t mind bleeding to death. He can taste the tart fermented grapes on your tongue. The feeling of his bare skin against yours is more intoxicating than the bottle of wine you shared. You mewl pitifully into his mouth, clutching his clothes like a beggar desperate for cash. The sight of you begging for him was probably on par with the sex itself.
The night wasn’t supposed to end like this. Minghao had planned it out perfectly: you were supposed to visit a jazz show featuring your favourite ensemble, then you’d have dinner at a place he’d been meaning to take you for months, then maybe after a glass of red (or two) a taxi would drop you off at your complex where he would kiss you on the check and tell you to sleep well.
You both barely made it to step two.
Minghao pulls you flush against his chest breaking the kiss for air - you don’t seem to care as you turn your attention to his neck. In the morning, Minghao expects to see dots of red-purple bruises lined across the pale skin of his neck like patches of watercolour. The night wasn’t supposed to end like this, but Minghao doesn’t have the strength in him to tell you to stop.
“I wanted to be a gentleman.” He manages to whisper out, his eyes squeezing shut as you move your hands and kisses downwards, “I don’t want you just for your body, you know.”
“I know. I just missed you so much it was driving me crazy.” You say and drag him by the collar. You’re not looking where you’re going, but Minghao trusts you know his place better than you know your own.
Before he can respond, he feels you jerk slightly, almost tripping over your feet. He looks down to watch what caused it and he feels his face light up like a pink neon sign downtown.
“You still have my slippers here.” You say, not like you’re inquiring, but more like a statement. The smile on your face is miles wide when you look up at him. Minghao knows exactly what you’re thinking and because of it, he’s the happiest man who has ever lived.
“I didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, I never wanted to let you go in the first place."
taglist - @minhui896 @luvhuihui @porridgesblog @bangantokchy @haocovr @icyminghao
#seventeen oneshot#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic recs#seventeen imagines#the8 oneshot#the8 angst#the8 x reader#the8 fluff#minghao oneshot#minghao angst#minghao fluff#minghao x reader#svt oneshot#svt angst#svt x reader#svt fluff#i’m finally doneeee#i hope this lived up to your expectations 🩵
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Minghao fic recs
✿=personal favourites
note: all of the fics i have recommended either have a female or gender neutral reader. this will constantly be updated.
terrified by @lovelyhan
warnings and genre: smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, idolverse, established relationship, extremely slight angst.
word count: N/A
✿rush hour by @lovelyhan
warnings and genre: smut, enemies to lovers, dancer au, unresolved sexual tension, promiscuous behaviour in public.
word count: 6700
golden hour by @synthetickitsune
warnings and genre: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, blond minghao.
word count: 1500
✿fixer upper by @seungkwansphd
warnings and genre: smut, slow burn, affectionate member slander.
word count: 9500
impatient by @ressonancee
warnings and genre: friends with benefits, smut, humor, brat!reader, sub and dom undertones.
word count: 3040
love bleeds lilac by @hoeforhao
warnings and genre: non idol!minghao, fluff, slight mentions of mental health issues, angst but not angst, discovering self love, comfort.
word count: N/A
10:52pm by @blue-jisungs
warnings and genre: N/A
word count: N/A
to love easily by @minghaoyoudoin
warnings and genre: fake dating, smut, angst, fluff, non idol au, non idol!minghao, mentions of cheating and resulting in trauma, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name(darling), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex(m and f receiving), vaginal penetration, marking.
word count:13 500
whisper game by @sunnylovespickles
warnings and genre: smut, public sex, fingering, gagging, spit as lube, marking, horny minghao, pet names.
word count: 960
smut prompt event(minghao) by @hoeforhao
warnings and genre: smut
word count: N/A
opposites attract by @rubyreduji
warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, thigh high kink, creampie.
word count: 1800
April 12th, 3:36pm by @gyupinkys
warnings and genre: smut, mafia!minghao, yandere!reader, murder, gore, violence, guns, weapons, toxic relationship, manipulation, yandere, unprotected sex, public sex, sex with corpse in the room, scary dirty talk.
word count:2700
idubilu by @toruro
warnings and genre: smut, ceo!minghao, husband!minghao, fluff, oral(f receiving), pet names(princess, pretty).
word count: 2800
(pretty) hungry by @icyminghao
warnings and genre: fluff, drabble, established relationship, mentions of food.
word count: 600
i don't understand (but i love you) by @icyminghao
warnings and genre: fluff, some angst, comfort, established relationship.
word count: 1500
4:18am by @number1mingyustan
warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of sex, grinding, hands, pianist!minghao.
word count: 2300
✿wrong turn by @meltwonu
warnings and genre: vampire au, smut, dom!minghao, vampire!minghao, small about of blood play, dirty talk, degradation, fucking in public, overstimulation, squirting.
word count: 3000
home yet? by @idyllicdeco
warnings and genre: smut, subspace minghao.
word count: 1700
22:34 by @toruro
warnings and genre: smut, vibrators, pet names(pretty thing)
word count: 610+
part 1:chérie by @venerex
warnings and genre: duke!minghao, smut, oral(f receiving), fingering, virgin! reader.
word count: 2500
part2:the poet by @venerex
warnings and genre: smut, duke!minghao, fingering, virgin!reader.
word count: 2300
Part3:mon amour by @venerex
warnings and genre: duke!minghao, smut, fingering, intercouse, reader's first time, talks of having children, reader passes out.
word count: 1900
blocked contacts by @jae-bummer
warnings and genre: angst, fluff.
word count: N/A
f* me, emo boy by @sunnylovespickles
warnings and genre: rock guitarist!minghao, smut.
word count: 1800
✿the letter by @toruro
warnings and genre: jun's little sister!reader, slow burn, angst, fluff, childhood f2l, idol au, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, arguments, pent up emotions, miscommunication, hot headed reader.
word count: 26 000
the letter(smut) by @toruro
warnings and genre: smut, oral(f receiving, fluff.
word count: 1300
✿red (k)nights by @toruro
warnings and genre: knight!minghao, smut, fluff, royal au, princess!reader, secret relationship.
word count:6700
oh my! by @toruro
warnings and genre: smut, oral(m receiving), mutual pinig, fluff, mentioned past toxic/controlling relationships.
word count: 13 600
dreamt of heaven by @jeonride
warnings and genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, fiance!minghao, profanity, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, oral(f receiving), hand job, fingering, pet names(angel), praise.
word count: 2400
✿felix felicis by @blue-jisungs
warnings and genre: fluff, light angst, hurt and comfort, humour, slytherin!minghao, hufflepuff!reader, mentions of social anxiety, swearing.
word count: 7000
✿now or never series by @heartkyeom
series warnings and genre: strangers to lovers, ex!joshua, fake marriage, angst, fluff, mentions of food, big crowds, mentions of chronic illness, journalist!seokmin, food, smut, brief flashbacks, mentions of family planning, oral sex, descriptions of female anatomy, blowjobs, long car rides, cursing, dumbification, alcohol, fighting.
word count: N/A, 5 chapters
#minghao smut#minghao fluff#minghao angst#xu minghao#the8 fluff#the8 angst#the8 smut#the8#seventeen smut#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#minghao x reader#xu minghao x reader#seventeen x reader
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late night talking
member — minghao x f reader
genre — angst, idk if there's enough fluff for this to count as hurt/comfort but the ending is sort of happy ?
word count — 2.1k
synopsis — the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am.
warnings — reader is very drunk and very very insecure, lots of crying, lots of internal back & forth, unreliable narrator moment, refers to reader as girlfriend/my girl/etc., idk if i'm missing anything else but lmk if i am
notes — this is an old fic that i never really intended to be released but @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions convinced me otherwise. sorry this is not at all what i normally post lmao i swear don't write like this often i just found this in my drive that i wrote when i was in a very shitty mood. we will return to your regularly scheduled smut programming soon i promise lmao! leave a comment in the reblogs or send an ask if you enjoyed this? idk i am nervous to post this pls don't perceive me too much
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you're ugly when you're drunk.
“hao?”
your voice rings throughout the house, the sound shaky and quieter than usual.
he wouldn't even have known you were home if he hadn't heard your friend's car pull up minutes ago, bright headlights flashing through the bedroom window. he wouldn't have known, if he wasn't already worried sick at you being gone so long and consuming an unknown amount of alcohol. he should've been there with you, but too much was riding on the deadline for his students’ grades that had to be finished before midnight. any other day he would've been by your side the whole night, a steady hand on your arm for balance and a sharp eye on your glass just in case. he loves playing the role of protective boyfriend, letting his girl do whatever she wants because he'll always be there to watch over her. but he couldn't do that tonight, and it tears him up inside.
he hears your trudging footsteps down the hall, soft footfalls signalling your approach as you drag yourself towards the room. he pretends not to hear; he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this and embarrass you.
“you're home early,” he comments with a chuckle, but his sarcasm is lost on you in this state. it's well after 1 in the morning, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words, brows deeply furrowed.
“what— are you working on?” you ask after a moment, focusing all your energy on not stumbling over your words.
you know how drunk you are, he knows how drunk you are, but even now you're still putting on an act. you hate feeling stupid in front of him, and right now you couldn't feel any stupider. the worst part is that you feel as stupid when you're sober as you do right now, but you couldn't tell him that.
he pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he surveys your current state. he can't risk hurting your feelings, especially in such a vulnerable headspace.
“grading finals,” he decides on. not too detailed to confuse you, not too simplified to make you feel stupid, just enough to make you feel involved.
distantly you feel your eyes welling up with tears. you don't know why, but at the same time you know exactly why. you're never good enough compared to him, not when you come home drunk in the dead of night, and he never does. not when he's so good at everything he touches, so talented and beautiful and perfect, and you're… not.
he deserves someone at his level, an artistic genius like him who can help him with his work. someone with an eye for his paintings, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone who can keep him on his toes. someone who won't drag him down and burden him with your obvious lack of skill and your quality of being so embarrassingly lightweight that you need to be supervised at all times.
“i’m sorry,” you finally muster. you can't find the words to explain what you mean, but you hope he's able to sense your sincerity.
“what for?” he asks. his voice is softer now.
you hate it when he uses that voice. he's talking down to you, talking like you're a child and he has to explain everything to you in the gentlest way possible because you aren't capable of handling the truth.
you love when he uses that voice. sometimes he can be so blunt it almost feels isolating, but when he talks to you like you're a child in that sweet, gentle, kind tone you feel like everything will be okay. he can soften himself for you, drop his straightforward persona around you and be the tender man you know he's capable of being.
you lift your eyes to his computer screen and the feelings you've been struggling with float back into view. “i'm sorry,” you repeat, voice cracking despite the effort you put in to stop it from breaking. it's all you can say.
you don't notice when the tears overflow, bursting from your eyes without a sound. you're embarrassing, you're an idiot, standing in front of him with red eyes and hunched shoulders as tears stream down your cheeks. you don't even feel them fall.
if he knows what you're trying to convey with your tearful apologies, he doesn't mention it.
of course he knows, how could he not when he's so astute with everything? you suck at keeping things to yourself.
of course he doesn't know, why would he take the time out of his busy schedule to care about how you're feeling? you're not worth his energy.
the moment seems to stretch on for eternity, standing in front of him. you don't know why you started dating in the first place; he doesn't have the time, you're too annoying, too clingy, too affectionate. standing in front of him, you don't feel anything. you just feel cold.
you turn to drag yourself out of the room, deciding that you've embarrassed yourself enough by now. you don't know where you'll go or what you're doing, probably to pour yourself a glass of water and try to sleep on the couch. obviously he won't want you to sleep in his bed when you’re like this, why should he? you aren’t deserving of that privilege.
but then you feel a warm hand on your wrist, gently tugging you back towards him. you lose your balance, stumble over your feet, fall onto his lap. you're mortified, barely able to get another “sorry” out before trying to stand again on wobbly legs. you shouldn't be here. you're so aware, so painfully conscious of your weight on him, every ounce of energy you have left fighting to keep yourself from annoying him even further but it feels like it's too late. everything that comes from you is too little, too late.
“no,” he says. his tone is still that soft, sweet sound, but his voice is firm and you don't try to get up again. “we can talk tomorrow,” he says as he begins to run his hand along your back, and you hate yourself for the way you instantly melt at his touch. “just… relax. calm down.”
your body slouches against his chest, feeling like a puddle on his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck whether you meant to or not. your legs dangle limply off his lap, arms wrapped loosely around the back of his chair as he holds you.
“it's okay,” he says simply, still stroking his hand along your back in small, soothing motions. “it's okay.” he repeats the words, maybe to convince himself but mostly to convince you from having a breakdown. even now when he's treating you so delicately, your brain won't let you rest: he's probably scared of you, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean any of it and he's using whatever means necessary to stop you from turning hysterical or even violent. of course it doesn't mean anything to him.
“how much did you drink tonight, baby?” he asks, and you know you should take that as judgmental but you don't have the energy left anymore. you don't note the twinge of concern in his voice, you can't see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.
“a little— a lot,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. the real truth is that you lost count. you weren't trying to get drunk, but one turned into two turned into ten and before you even knew what you were doing a car was dropping you off in front of your house.
he shifts his legs for you to sit more comfortably on his lap, and as much as you want to fight it you don't have the strength to. “do you want to go to bed?” he asks gently. “or do you want to stay up with me?”
“don't… want you to go to bed ‘cuz of me,” you mumble against his neck. god, his skin is so soft and warm. you couldn't move your body right now even if you tried. “not your fault.”
“what kind of guy would i be if i didn't take care of my girlfriend when she needs me?” he asks. “i can put you to bed if you want. it's alright. it's late anyway.”
“it's not– your job,” you manage to reply, and his hand on your back stops for a second.
“it is my job,” he says softly. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i'm sorry if you feel like i haven't done that.”
“please, don't— no sorry,” you choke out as fresh tears prick at your eyes. “it's my fault. i'm sorry. it's my fault.”
he holds you tighter, both arms wrapped around you on his lap now. “it's not your fault,” he says in that same firm but gentle voice. “you haven't done anything wrong at all. it's alright, baby, i promise. you don't have anything to worry about. why are you sorry?”
“i don't know,” you mumble. your hand clutches at his chest unconsciously, balling his t-shirt in your fist. “i dunno. i love you. i dunno.”
“i love you, too,” he says after a beat. the tears, the drunken outburst, he just lets it all happen. without a word of complaint. despite the voices in your head fighting to convince you otherwise, he never says a single negative thing to you.
you know he's not normally like this. with everyone else he's polite, unemotional, reserved. he's never vulnerable. which is why you're so confused right now.
“why?” you slur, still grasping onto hope.
he hums in questioning, nudging you to elaborate.
“why are you like this to me?”
but now he's the one who's confused. “like what?”
you pause, and the room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound your shallow breaths against his chest. “nice.”
for all his knowledge, this time he's actually lost. “why would i not be nice to you?”
“i don't deserve it.”
he shifts again, pulling you closer to his chest as he starts to run his fingers through his hair. “of course you do, baby.”
“you don't deserve me.”
he stops again, this time in shock. “hey. that's not true.”
“is too true,” you say. your eyes are closed and you can't help the frown overtaking your face. “you should have somebody you deserve. it's not me.”
he just sighs, and you feel his chest expand beneath your cheek at the deep breath he takes. “i love you, baby. not anyone else. you'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk then. but i'm not mad at you, okay? there's nothing wrong. everything's okay.”
you try to mimic his sigh, but the angle you're laying at on his chest and the alcohol in your system makes it hard to breathe deeply.
“do you want to keep sitting with me?” he asks. he knows how much you like the sounds his keyboard makes, the quiet tapping as he enters grades and types comments to his students about things you could never fathom to understand.
your eyes stay closed and your head doesn't move. “yeah,” you murmur softly.
he settles back into his chair, you curled up on his lap. he's not doing much, he's finished the worst of it and now just entering numbers. he glances down at your figure, almost asleep on him, and he feels an ache in his chest.
every emotion feels amplified to you right now, but if it took getting blackout drunk for you to finally say it then it must've been weighing on you for a long time coming. he wonders how long you've felt like this, felt inadequate compared to him, and it makes him pause. it was never his intention. when you're awake and sober and hopefully not massively hungover, then you can talk, and he can make this right.
he loves the person snuggled against his chest, loves the feeling of you comforted and protected by him, and he'll do anything to make sure you know that. he'll do anything to let you see yourself the way he sees you. above all the worries he has about you, he knows one thing for sure.
you're cute when you're drunk.
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ukiyo | xu minghao
SYNOPSIS. in which you and minghao spend the day together.
PAIRING. xu minghao x gn!reader
GENRE. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship
WARNINGS. language alluding to death, reader is in a wheelchair, mentions of an unnamed terminal disease that causes reader to have weakened limbs n feel very weak in general, vague mention of nudity (hao takes off reader’s clothes and gives them a bath) but nothing is explicitly described, descriptions of a hospital, terms of endearment (love), one curse word
WORD COUNT. 4.3k
ukiyo ( 浮世 ) 𑁋 “the floating world”; living in the moment; detached from the bothers of life.
notes: there’s not really a plot to this. it’s just brainrot because i love torturing myself and my heart. i saw pics of the beach of hai cheng mv and immediately wanted to write something sad for no reason.
The late morning sunlight pours in through the small window of the bathroom as you hold a steady, blank gaze at the running water gushing out from the faucet. The sounds bounce off the walls of the bathroom, and you bring your eyes down to your legs.
You can hardly move them.
It’s been this way for the past two years. It had started with the muscles of your legs slowly succumbing to the weakness stemming from the terminal illness you had been diagnosed with. And as time continues to routinely pass, that certain weakness had set out to invade other parts of your body like a dumb and relentless parasite.
Over the years, the disease had been slowly nearing its peak. The countless visits to the hospital had laggardly dissipated every bit of hope to a possible recovery, and you’ve gotten used to the sentences being said of There’s no cure for the disease, or Sooner or later, it can spread to your brain. You’re only growing weaker and weaker each passing day. Every day tasks were already strenuous. Opening your eyes in the morning took too much strength. Nothing but tiredness and exhaustion plagued your body. Headaches have been becoming more prevalent. Sometimes you just want all this pain to cease to exist. You didn’t want to put this burden on the people you love.
You didn’t want to put this burden on Minghao.
“So... cherry blossom, lavender, or coconut chamomile?”
You slowly bring your gaze up to the sight of your boyfriend holding up three different scents of bubble bath in the doorway. The sight makes you giggle as you look between the different scents with curiosity, before looking back up at Minghao.
Even after being together the past four years, just the fleeting sight of him lights you up. Your body may be growing weaker each day, but your unwavering love for the man holding up bottles of bubble bath scents has never faltered. Not one bit.
But if you weren’t sick, he would be able to live the long, happy life that he wanted, right?
Minghao knows that you are tired𑁋it’s your default answer every day. He wishes he can be able to take away the exhaustion that you feel. He wishes to put all of that pain onto his shoulders and carry it for you so you could experience the freedom away from the constraints of your illness.
But he also knows that life doesn't always grant such wishes.
“Will you... surprise me?” You ask instead.
All he does is smile. It’s that soft, fond nose-scrunching smile that you’ve grown to love over the years. Minghao places the bottles on the counter of the sink, putting his body in front so you wouldn’t be able to see what he selects. Covering the bottle with his arms, he playfully walks backward towards the bathtub, causing you to elicit a weak laugh at his dorky antics.
As he reaches the tub, he leans over and carefully pours the bubble bath into the warm water, And as you watch, a gentle purple hue of bubbles begin to form and spread sporadically throughout the tub like a magical mist. It's the soothing and enchanting aroma of lavender.
“You... always know what I like, hm?” You ask him as he closes the container to the bottle and sets it back on the sink counter.
The corners of Minghao’s lips curl amusedly. "I may have learned a thing or two about you over the years.”
The sincerity in his words never fails to relax your heart and push away the clouds of your bittersweet thoughts. Minghao waits a minute or two before turning off the faucet and directing his attention back to you.
“Now,” He leans in front of you, letting his hands caress over yours on the handle of the wheelchair and landing at the hems of your shirt. “can I help you out of these clothes?”
A blush grows on your cheeks at his request despite him doing this for years. You heave out a nervous breath and nod as Minghao's hands begin to move over you with practiced ease, aware of your weakened limbs and exhausted state. He keeps his touch gentle and respectful, and starts with unbuttoning your shirt, his delicate fingers gliding effortlessly along the fabric to reveal the vulnerability the lies underneath. He doesn’t rush or hurry anything, simply setting his focus on you and only you. The warmth of his hands against your skin sends shivers running down your spine.
Though he has seen you bare for him many times, Minghao can’t help the faint smirk to his face. As the last button is undone, he lets your shirt fall to the tile floor below, his gaze travelling over you with adoration. The all-too familiar intimacy between you two has never diminished the admiration he holds for you. Treasuring you is something he has always been devoted to do.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mutters, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your knuckle, and you feel the surge of warmth and love run marathons to your heart.
With his hands now free from the task of your shirt, he continues his journey downwards, the tips of his fingers ghosting tenderly over your fragile skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You can barely feel the way he touches you, but the thought of him doing so brings you comfort. He takes his precious time, savouring each second that passes between as he loosens the clasps of your pants and helps bring them down your legs with utmost caution.
As each layer of clothing is finally peeled off, a wave of relief and peace washes over you. Minghao sets your clothing neatly away before returning to your side and bringing you closer to the tub. He lets his arms wrap around you, carefully lifting you from the wheelchair and guiding you towards the edge of the bathtub. Sticking a hand in the water to ensure its a good temperature, he slowly but surely eases you into the bath, the water and lavender aroma embracing your body as you sink deeper inside the tub.
“Does it feel good?” he asks you while lathering the bubbles onto your shoulders.
A sigh escapes your lips as you lean your back against the tub with the bubbles tickling against your skin.
“Mhm,” You let out quietly. “Thank... thank you.” Thank you for taking care of me; I wish I could give you all the care back.
Minghao hums softly, planting a kiss to the top of your head, and retrieves a nearby sponge. Sitting himself down at the edge of the tub, he dips the sponge into the water before lightly caressing over your skin. He starts with your shoulders, washing your skin with a smooth pace and various patterns, helping to gradually ease away the tension to your body.
“Relax, love,” he tells you. “Let me take care of you.”
And so you let your eyes flutter to a close. It felt relaxing to do so𑁋to let go. It almost makes the pain in your head go away.
You watch the steam rise from the untouched bowl of rice porridge in front of you. It takes Minghao a few minutes later to come back with his own bowl, along with a few side dishes in hand. He glances towards you and notices your empty expression, a tinge of sadness to your eyes that brings a heavy weight to his chest, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. Reaching over, he takes your metal spoon in his hand and dips it in the bowl, grabbing a spoonful of the porridge.
“It’s important for you to eat, love.” Minghao blows on the spoon, cooling down the porridge before bringing it to your lips. The illness hasn’t been much cooperative to your appetite, and eating has been a daunting task for the past few months. He prepares you light foods that doesn’t take much strength to swallow, but enough to nourish you at the same time.
Parting your lips slightly, Minghao feeds you the spoonful of porridge, and you immediately relish in the warmth coursing through you. A small smile crosses your face at the familiar taste of comfort, and it even makes Minghao’s worried face soften. He continues to feed you, spoonful by spoonful, his eyes never leaving yours while taking in every detail𑁋the way your eyes flutter close after each bite, the way the faint smile to your face grows every so slightly, but enough for him to notice. It’s a big change to see, according to him.
“Tastes good.” You murmur under your breath, looking up at him.
The weariness fades off your face just minisculely. Minghao manages a gentle smile, barely noticing his own food going cold as he continues to feed you.
There’s a certain silence that you love with him𑁋it’s a domestic silence, especially after being together for four years, where you love observing him doing his everyday routine. But gosh, you miss the times when you were able to hold him in your own arms, or when you could wrap your arms around him in a tight back hug while he cooked, or sneak kisses to his cheek and run away before he would tackle you back into the bed. You miss the times when he’d let you hold him so he could listen to you read, or when you both sat across from each other having your late night doodling sessions.
You miss all those times, and there’s no way to get them back.
“I was thinking...” Minghao comes back to sit down after setting the dishes away. “...if you wanted to go on a little getaway for the day?”
You look up at him dazedly. “A... getaway?”
“You’ve mentioned wanting to go the beach before,” he inputs, and you see his face up to your idea. “and I think it would be nice to get some fresh air, would you say so?”
He really does remember all the things about you.
A flicker of hesitation crosses your mind, yet the longing for a change of scenery, a temporary escape from the walls that confine you, helps to wash away any doubts.
You used to dream about running through the white sand beach, feeling the heat of the sun on your skin and the cool breeze caress your face while listening to the calming sound of the waves crashing against the shore. You dreamed of you and Minghao’s laughter mingling into the fresh, afternoon air, your hands intertwined together as you dash down the shoreline together.
Ever since you were a kid, you dreamed of the beach being the place where you would marry the love of your life, because the sight of the sun setting in the horizon, the soft sand beneath your feet, and the vastness of the ocean waters as you kissed your partner was a fairytale you wanted to experience.
And ever since before your diagnosis and still to this day, you dream of the beach being the place where you would marry Minghao.
Now, it entirely feels like a distant memory now, something beyond unattainable, but the thought of simply seeing it with your eyes brings some form of hope back to your tired heart.
So you look back up at Minghao as a very faint sparkle of eagerness passes through your eyes.
The winter season paints the world with a palette of muted colours. The once vibrancy of the ocean waters fades into a pale blue-grey like the cloudy skies above, and the emptiness allows the beach to unfold in its truest form. The waves aren’t too strong or too weak, but roll in gently onto the shoreline with their white foam brushing against the sand before receding back into the vast waters.
As you and Minghao stroll down towards the beach, you find small patches of snow in the grass and bushes. The air is crisp and chilly, but you don't mind the cold. You find yourself dressed in a comfortable and cozy turtleneck, along with a snug coat to protect you from the winter chill. Minghao had insisted on picking an outfit since dressing you up𑁋and making sure all the colours work well with each other𑁋has always been one of his favourite activities to do.
There’s a ramp that you go down before finally arriving onto the sandy grounds. The wheels of the wheelchair sinks into the slightly damp sand as Minghao pushes you closer towards the water. He's used to assisting you with mobility the past two years, and he does it with such grace and care that it has practically become a second nature for him.
The beach appears desolate, but seeing it so untouched and undisturbed makes the experience far more peaceful.
Minghao stops the wheelchair at a comfortable distance from the water's edge before kneeling beside you. His ears are slightly reddened from the cold, even with the protection of his own turtle neck and long scarf, but his gaze in the direction of the water is filled with warmth and pure awe.
He turns to reach for your hand on your lap and intertwines his fingers with yours, before turning back to the sight of the sky meeting the sea.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.
“It’s...” If you could, if your body gave you the benefit of the doubt for one single moment, you would say everything coming from your heart𑁋how the word beautiful is just a small word compared to the real floating feeling that it gives you. “...beautiful.”
The word feels lackluster, but it's all you can manage to say, and Minghao's warm smile is all that you need to back you up.
He turns back towards you, hesitation in his words. “Do you want to stand closer to the water?”
You peer at Minghao with hesitation and uncertainty. Standing now took... more strength than usual as of lately, and it pains you to admit it. But the thought of being able to stand near the water, to be able to stand on the world that fills your dreams at night was more than tempting. You can barely remember the last time you were able to go to the beach; it was more than possible that it was way before the diagnosis of your illness.
But what if this could be your only opportunity?
And so you muster a small nod towards Minghao. “Help... me stand?”
Minghao only nods. He moves behind the wheelchair and locks the brakes so that it won't move while he helps you stand. With nothing but caution, he wraps an arm around your waist and one under your knees as you slowly rise from the wheelchair, your legs trembling from the use of all your strength as you lean against Minghao for balance. It felt... strange to be able to stand like this again, even if it was just for a few short minutes, almost like a sensation you have nearly forgotten.
His arm tightens around your waist as he guides you to take your first step, leading you closer to the shore. Each step felt like an ardous journey. You basically can hear the loud protests of your own body telling you to stop.
“You’re doing great,” he tells you, and his words bring you some heightened determination.
Even with each passing moment and your body slowly but surely taking all its effort to remain you upright, you don’t let the thought dampen your persistence.
When you finally reach the line where the tip of your shoe reaches the edge, the ocean stretches out before you as if holding countless stories of joy, sadness, and everything in between within its deep, mysterious depths.
Minghao still has an arm wrapped around you, but his eyes are directed into yours, both tenderly and admiringly.
"You did it," he assures you. "You're standing by the ocean.”
A bittersweet smile crosses your lips, a smile warm but with a hint of sadness. You feel the heat growing in your eyelids as you let a few streams of tears to flow down your face, never thinking that such a vast space would become your safe haven. Minghao leans in to press a loving kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.
You feel like you’re floating in that moment, suspended between that of reality and a dream. The weariness that lingers in your bones is briefly forgotten about, and you relish in the feeling of standing tall after so much time.
But as you continue standing, you feel the weakness descend upon you. The exhaustion surrounds you like a dense fog, clouding your mind and eating away at your energy. You try to keep your focus on the calmness of the ocean ahead, but you feel a certain heaviness to your eyes, making it difficult for you to keep them open.
And the world around you starts to blur.
Minghao is speaking. He’s speaking but you can’t make out any words because of the ringing in your ears that was growing louder each second and drowning out his voice which was the only thing fucking powerful enough to keep you even remotely grounded𑁋
“Y/N, stay with me. Can you... hear...”
No, I can’t hear you. You’re fading away... I’m the one who is fading away.
“Hao...” is all you manage to mumble out in a hushed, weak whisper.
The last thing you remember is the feeling of his arms around you and his voice desperately calling out your name before all you could see is black.
It takes a lot for Minghao to break.
But seeing you in this hospital bed right next to him, with your skin more fragile than ever and your body laying unconsciously still, he feels each individual piece of his heart shatter by the passing minute and his chest grow heavy. The doctors predicted for you to have woken up two hours ago, but... you haven’t done so.
He doesn’t know what to feel, and it almost feels like each breath he takes only suffocates him even more, and being confined in the walls of the hospital room had been no help. Maybe it’s anguish, fear, guilt, or even anger. Perhaps it was all of the above.
Minghao's hands tremble as he clenches them into fists, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. He wants to scream, but he restrains himself, and he’s been oddly good at doing so.
If only you knew all the times he had desperately tried to fight back tears knowing that one day, you won’t be waking up next to him anymore𑁋that you won’t wake up at all. Or the times he had fought back anger to hide away just how much he wants to yell at the universe for cursing you with such a damned illness.
As he continues to anxiously pace around the room, a soft knock to the door makes him halt. A man enters into the room𑁋the doctor𑁋with a solemn expression to his face. He glances towards your unconscious body on the bed, before turning back towards Minghao.
“Comparing the results of some tests and a previous medical check-up,” The man takes a noticeable deep breath. “I’m afraid that the disease has progressed its way into their brain, and it’s hard to tell as of now when they will regain consciousness.”
Minghao's body freezes at the doctor's words, and he feels something in his chest tugging painfully at the strings of his heart. The room grows silent aside for the sound of his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears, and the rhythmic beating of the heart monitor.
He means... that you knew all along?
The weight of it all crashes over him like a wave at high tide, and he loosens the grip he has to his fists. He swears that the ground beneath him was crumbling now as he gets himself to run back to your side and bring the hands of your lifeless form into his trembling ones.
“Why didn't you tell me?" he whispers shakily, but his question hangs unanswered in the air. “Dammit, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”
He feels the anger inside of him now, but he isn’t angry at you. He’s angry at himself. He clutches at your hands tightly, his grip almost desperate with his fingers running over your knuckles. Minghao's eyes scan frantically over your face, pleading for some type of response, for any sign that you can hear him. But the silence in the room remains unchanged.
Minghao presses his quivering lips against your hand, a river of tears spilling down his face. He blames himself for not seeing the signs. He blames himself for the pain you’ve went through. All he wanted to do was bring you to a place of happiness for just a single day, but it all went downhill, and he blames no one else but himself.
It takes a lot for Minghao to break, but not when it comes to you.
“I’ll beat you to it, Hao!”
Minghao doesn’t race after you, instead he watches with a grin to his face as you dash excitedly in the direction of the ocean water, nearly tripping in the sand in the process. The waves were calm as they crash lightly against the shoreline. It wasn’t much cloudy than before, and the air was still as chilly as the previous days, but for some reason it felt refreshing as ever to breathe in the wintry air and a perfect time to take a stroll near the waters.
He slowly makes his way down to the beach, hands in his pockets as he watches you stop at the edge of where the water rolls into the sand. You turn around to face him, a pout to your face that makes him chuckle to himself.
“You’re such a slowpoke!” You exclaim to him.
When he finally makes his way right next to you, you both look out at the waters together.
“We both know I would’ve beaten you anyways.” Minghao mutters, and he hears you release an annoyed scoff.
You turn towards him, a teasing smirk to your face. “Care to prove it?”
He raises an eyebrow as if contemplating your words for a moment. But with a sudden burst of energy, he takes off running, leaving you behind in the sand. Nothing but laughter leaves you as you follow after him, calling out his name for him to slow the heck down with your feet sinking into the softened sand with each step you took.
It takes some time of more chasing before Minghao finally stops in front of the water. When you arrive next to him, breaths shallow and unsteady from all the running, he quickly circles his arms around your waist like a tender cocoon, pulling you into a loving back hug.
Minghao rests his head comfortingly on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling against the skin of your neck. His touch immediately makes you lean into him, both of your gazes looking straight in the direction of the endless ocean waters. Time seems to stand still, where all the worries of the outside world melt away with each wave that comes in. It's just the two of you together, and no one else.
“I love you.” The words leave his lips like a hushed promise, even though it was only the two of you standing together. “You know that, right?”
"I know," You reply, voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too, Hao.”
As the words suspend quietly in the chilly air, a wistful breeze sweeps over the beach.
“You know I’ve always wanted to get married at the beach?”
Minghao tilts his head slightly, a soft, somewhat playful smile playing on his lips as he gazes into your eyes wonderingly.
“Is that so?” he hums. “Guess this is where we’re going to get married, then.”
You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or surprise that was raging through you. He said it so casually that it nearly makes your entire body go limp in his arms, your heart fluttering and swelling out of your chest.
“Wow, I... I didn’t expect you to say that so easily.” You stammer out your words.
Minghao just chuckles, placing a kiss to the temple of your head. “If that’s what you want, then I promise to make it happen, love.”
You feel the smile bloom onto your face as you bring your eyes back out to the waters again. You feel him rocking you back and forth in his hold, swaying your bodies aside the small waves that come washing onto the shore. But as he continues to hold you and you notice the waves coming in heavier, the smile to your face slowly begins to fade away.
Turning around to face him, you get yourself to light up your face once more.
“Close your eyes,” You tell him, letting your fingers play with his hair flying in the breeze. “Can you do that for me?”
Minghao gives you an odd look, before complying and letting his eyes fall to a close. He feels you release yourself from his grasp until he was holding nothing, which he brings his arms back down to his side. He shivers from a sudden breeze running past him as the anticipation courses through his veins.
Seconds turn into minutes, and all Minghao can hear is the waves beginning to crash louder against the sand. But amidst the sound of nature taking its course, there's silence from you. He doesn’t hear any signs of movement, any noise that can indicate that it was you. He hears nothing.
“Y/N?” he calls out once, twice, three times. “Y/N!”
And when he finally prys open his eyes, he’s met with nothing. All he could see was the seemingly endless beach and ocean stretching out before him in all directions possible. He calls out your name again in desperation, panic, fear, but he doesn’t earn any response, feeling the tears brim in his eyes once more as he sinks to his knees in the sand.
You’re gone.
taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua
#kflixnet#k-labels#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#minghao imagines#minghao fluff#minghao angst#minghao x reader#xu minghao imagines#xu minghao fluff#xu minghao angst#xu minghao x reader#the8 imagines#the8 fluff#the8 angst#the8 x reader#svt fluff#svt angst#svt x reader
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i don’t understand (but i love you)
pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: fluff, some angst, comfort, established relationship word count: 1.5k warning(s): none
summary: despite the communication barrier, minghao and you have been doing well. at least, that’s what minghao thinks. but when he sees you conversing so freely in your native language with someone else, he doesn’t really know what to think anymore.
based on this request by @phenomenalgirl9!
read (pretty) hungry and you nailed it!, which are set in the same universe!
Minghao and you have always been doing great. At least, that’s what Minghao thinks.
He’d met you while he was browsing the shelves of a bookstore while on vacation, and he’d forever be grateful that you reached for that one mystery book the same time he did, or he would never have known of your existence (he can’t bear to imagine how he would have turned out if he hadn’t).
You didn’t speak any of the languages he did, but he was absolutely mesmerised by you nonetheless, too lost in your eyes to pay attention to how you were frantically apologising for grabbing the book, rambling on in your native language about how you’d actually read it before but loved it so much you had to get the physical copy that he’d gotten caught staring after failing to notice that you had already stopped talking for about a minute.
He’d wordlessly placed his phone on your hands, and you looked down at the screen to see the interface of the Phone application, except the text was all in Korean. You’d marveled that you’ve never actually met a Korean before in your broken Korean, and Minghao swore he fell for you harder in that instant, too absorbed in the fact that you had tried to converse with him in a language he knew to correct you on his heritage. He could do that later (and that he did).
Subsequently after your first meeting, or as Seokmin calls it, your “meet-cute”, Minghao spent every moment he had with you while he was still in the country. Dates mainly consisted of getting to know each other at your favourite café, where the both of you fell into a routine of trading book recommendations and talking about each other’s book recommendations. It was there that you found out about Minghao’s first language and subsequently hounded him to teach you Chinese, much to his enjoyment. Of course, Minghao wasn’t naïve and was well aware of the limited time that the both of you shared, but he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper and deeper for you anyway.
It was like luck was really on his side, though, when you told him that you’d been accepted into a college in Seoul for your Masters Degree. He’d been so over the moon he asked you to be his partner right away, and the rest was history.
So, despite the communication barrier, Minghao and you have definitely been doing great. The two of you may not be able to say much to each other (but you’re both trying, really hard), but the comforting reality is that there isn’t a need for much words between the two of you. You always seem to know what he’s thinking, as he does for you (much to the dismay of Minghao’s friends, who constantly groan about how the both of you always communicate with your “disgusting, lovesick eyes” and leave them out), so there simply isn’t a need for much words to be exchanged between you both.
But as he looks at you from across the bar, smiling and laughing at a childhood friend visiting Seoul for the week, as he looks at you being more talkative than you’ve ever been with him considering that your friend shared the same first language as you did, Minghao can’t help but let the insecurities eat away at him.
Your Korean has definitely improved a lot since the both of you had first met, so you could definitely engage in more conversations with each other now, but it’s the way you looked so comfortable conversing in your first language that really struck Minghao. Maybe you would be better off being with someone like your friend, someone who spoke the same language as you did? Maybe you’d be much happier than you were with him if you’d just left him and went for your friend instead? After all, the both of you do look very much like a childhood-friends-to-lovers kind of pair. Minghao’s just getting in the way, right?
As Minghao starts spiralling down the bottomless pit of his insecurities and overthinking, you seem to pick up on his deteriorating mood, eyes searching and finding his from across the crowded bar. Your eyes soften as you slightly raise your eyebrows in what Minghao interprets as an “Are you good?”, and he sends you a tight-lipped smile in response, nodding slowly. You don’t seem to buy into Minghao’s flimsy attempt at waving off what’s wrong, however, and excuse yourself from the conversation promptly before making your way over to him. Minghao tries not to let his glee at you picking him over your friend show, instead keeping his eyes on you for the entire duration it takes for you to walk over to him.
“What’s wrong, hm?” you ask the moment you’re face-to-face with Minghao, reaching to rest one hand on his cheek. Minghao sighs and closes his eyes, leaning into your warmth.
“Did you…” he slowly opens his eyes to look into your glittering, love-filled ones, “did you manage to catch up with your friend?”
A look of surprise washes over you, having not expected your friend to be the topic of conversation. “Oh, yeah! We talked a bit about how things were like back at home, but that’s it, really.”
Home. Minghao feels his heart ache at that word. Home is where you and your childhood friend reside, where he doesn’t exist. Home is where you should be, is all that crosses in Minghao’s mind.
“Baobei*?” your saccharine voice pulls him out of his self-deprecating thoughts, your eyes softening as your brows furrow at him in worry, “What’s wrong? Should we leave?”
You remove the hand on his cheek to grab his wrist and lead him towards the exit without waiting for his answer, and Minghao yearns for your touch on his face again. You weave through the crowd expertly, with such a determined stride that Minghao can’t help but smile at how seriously you’re taking this. It’s really not good for his poor heart.
As soon as the both of you step out of the bar, you’re pulling Minghao to a nearby bench and sitting him down, fretting over him as all he does is stare up at you with the softest eyes. Not seeing anything external to worry about, you move to sit beside him, taking one of his hands in yours to rub the back of his palm soothingly.
“Are you feeling unwell? Please tell me,” your voice comes out soft, and laced with so much worry that Minghao can’t help but feel bad for making you feel like this because of him.
He shakes his head, moving to rest his free hand on top of yours. “It’s nothing, I just… I just wasn’t used to seeing you so talkative, I guess.”
Your face morphs into one of confusion, seemingly not understanding what Minghao is getting at. He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“Do you… sometimes wish you were with someone whom you could speak the same language freely to? Like… your friend just now.
It’s just… when you’re with me, it’s like you’re always thinking before speaking, like you’re trying to piece together coherent sentences that I would understand, and when I saw you today talking to your friend with such ease it just made me think that maybe you’d be better off with someone like him, someone whom you don’t have a language barrier with, you know?” Minghao doesn’t know when his grip on your hand tightens, or when the first tear falls, but he’s suddenly finding himself sobbing like a child on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him and pat his back reassuringly, cooing at him to calm him down.
“Baobei…” you coo, patting his back rhythmically as a sign that you’re there with him, “Who’s to say that I’d be better off with someone else who’s not you? I would have an easier time conversing with someone who speaks the language I speak fluently, yes, but I chose to be with you because I think we have a bond that transcends the limits of language, Minghao. You always seem to know what I’m trying to say even when I fumble with my words, as I do for you. I’m choosing to be here with you to navigate our relationship together because I love you, Minghao, and no one else. So no, I don’t sometimes wish I were with someone whom I could speak the same language freely to, because I have you.”
Minghao removes his head from your shoulder to stare at you with his reddened eyes and tear-stricken face, and you pout at the sight. It’s not often that you see Minghao crying, much less in public, so this issue must have really affected him badly.
“I love you too,” he chokes out, practically launching himself into your arms, hugging you so tight as if you were going to slip out of his grasp if he didn’t. “please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Baobei,” you smile, tilting your head to plant a soft kiss on his hair.
“Let’s go home, yeah?”
*: Baobei (宝贝) — Chinese term of endearment for “baby” or “love”.
a/n: i love them sm i feel like i’m probably gonna be writing drabbles set in this universe bc minghao reminds me sm of jem carstairs (from the infernal devices) here and 😵💫😵💫 jem my book boyfie fr
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @xomingyu @belladaises @pepperonidk @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia
masterlist
#kflixnet#k-labels#ICY WRITES#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenarios#svt fluff#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt imagine#svt scenarios#minghao#minghao x reader#minghao fluff#minghao imagines#minghao angst#minghao imagine#minghao scenarios#xu minghao#seventeen minghao#the8 x reader#the8 fluff#the8 imagines#the8 angst#the8 imagine#the8 scenarios#seventeen the8
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MY GO-TO SEVENTEEN FICS
────⟢.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (Scoups)
╰ Rough
smut, 2k
╰ warm hearts
fluff, 0.5k
╰ his arms
smut, 0.4k
╰ sapiosexual
smut
╰ Good Luck, Fermata Tower
firewatch au, smut, angst, fluff, 13.9k
╰ always only you
14.2k, smut, childhood friends to lovers
╰ Shiver Me Timbers!
pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader, fantasy au, smut, 3.0k
╰ Dancing Queen
smut, fluff, slight angst, disco club owner!choi seungcheol, performer!reader
────⟢.ᐟ Yoon Jeonghan
╰ First Makeout Session
suggestive, minors do not interact
╰ my heart is beating for two
fluff, daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan, 1k
╰ Blueberries
smut, yoga instructor!Jeonghan, 2k
╰ Hate is a strong word
smut, angst, fluff, e2l, coworker au, 15k
╰ How many chances are too many chances?
angst, fluff, fwb, f2l, 14k
╰ Titty-Shirt!
pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader, theme park au, coworkers to lovers, e2l, smut, fluff, 13.2k
╰ every summertime
16.1k, 70s au, playing hard to get, smut
────⟢.ᐟ Hong Jisoo (Joshua)
╰ City lights Series
smut, rocksinger!joshua, neighbours with benefits, angst, fluff, 75.4k
╰ NBA player
smut, 0.8k
╰ cranberry concoctions
bartender!joshua, smut, a little angst & a little fluff, 1920s prohibition au, speakeasy au, 4.6k
╰ leaning on the everlasting arms
childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader, angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au, 10.3k
╰ Curse The Stars
Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader, Smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, pwp, 8.4k
────⟢.ᐟ Moon Junhui (Jun)
╰ Christmas with his family
fluff, comfort, (slight) angst, 0.5k
╰ Do Re Mi
smut, fluff, 4k, wife!reader, husband!jun
────⟢.ᐟ Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)
╰ charity f*ck
smut, virgin!hoshi x experienced!reader, fluff, 12.2k
╰ Leather
smut, 1.5k
╰ driving lessons for dummies
fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au, stoner!hoshi, 16k
────⟢.ᐟ Lee Jihoon (Woozi)
╰ Somewhere In The Middle
9.7k, romance, smut, best friends, fwb to lovers, hurt, comfort
────⟢.ᐟ Jeon Wonwoo
╰ [12:01 AM]
fluff, 0.2k
╰ First Snow
fluff, angst, smut, ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, 33k
╰ no such thing as too perfect
office au, established relationship, fluff, 2k
╰ wonwoo falling in love for the first time
fluff, 0.8k
────⟢.ᐟ Lee Seokmin (DK)
╰ Backstage series
romance, smut, theatre performer!seokmin, fake dating with benefits, 43.6k
╰ Teach Me
smut, humor, college au, 2.3k
╰ I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL
college au, brother's best friend au, smut, crack, angst, 15.9k
╰ Patterns
smut, eventual fluff, angst, 10k
────⟢.ᐟ Xu Minghao (The8)
╰ (Not Titled)
fluff, humour
╰ i should’ve never let you go
exes!au, angst, comfort, 2.5k
╰ Flashing lights
model!minghao x f!assistant!reader x actor!mingyu, smut, 30k
╰ the letter
slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l, 26k
────⟢.ᐟ Kim Mingyu
╰ titty obsessed! mingyu
smut
╰ i’ll marry you with paper rings
smut, fluff, angst, 28.3k
╰ kisses to his moles
fluff, 0.8k
╰ Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)
fluff, suggestive, 1k
╰ [10:23 PM]
fluff, 170
────⟢.ᐟ Boo Seungkwan
╰ honey
wedding planner!reader, fluff, smut mdni, theatre performer! seungkwan, childhood crush to lovers, 10.2k.
────⟢.ᐟ Chwe Hansol (Vernon)
╰ Friends with Benefits
fwb setting, suggestive
╰ DO YOU DREAM OF ME?
soulmate au. slight college au , f2l, fluff, some angst. pining, 9.6k
╰ [16:23 PM]
fluff, childhood friends to ?, 0.3k
╰ Birch Trees & Fear Street
smut, fluff, 1.7k
╰ sweet kiss
fluff, strangers ish to lovers
╰ BEAUTIFUL
fluff, strangers to lovers
╰ Music festival
drabble, fluff
╰ operation: hot girl summer
smut, fluff, humor, summer romance au, best friends to lovers, 4k
────⟢.ᐟ Lee Chan (Dino)
╰ As It Was
Ghost!Chan, Human!Reader, Romance, Angst, Smut, Historical/Fantasy Themes, Reunited Lovers, 9.1k
╰ Goodbye, Fourth of July
college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut
╰ Love Guard
Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader, 9.2k, Fluff, E2L (One sided)
╰ distraction, a fatal attraction
strangers to lovers, college au, fluff, 7k
╰ In Case You Didn’t Know
Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst, Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au, 28.8k
#seventeen#svt#svt fluff#svt angst#svt xu minghao#svt joshua#svt vernon#svt dk#dk#dokyeom#svt dokyeom#joshua smut#joshua fluff#joshua angst#minghao#minghao fluff#minghao angst#dk smut#dk angst#dokyeom smut#dokyeom angst#dokyeom fluff#vernon flufff#vernon smut#vernon angst#svt scoups#svt choi seungcheol#scoups smut#choi seungcheol
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Actually in line with my request for advice on relationships, if your requests are open, may I please request something sweet involving getting back together after a breakup, with a plan to make things work - so that I can cry and enjoy the fictional delusion instead? Dealers choice on which member
PAIRING || Minghao x Female Reader
GENRES || Angst
WARNINGS || none
WORD COUNT || 0.6k
A/N || i'm genuinely so sorry this took me so much time TT i really thought i would be able to do it quickly but i really wanted to answer your other ask as nicely as i could and publish this at the same time so thats why it took me so much time TT im so so sorry but i hope you enjoy this. i chose minghao cus idk...he seemed to resemble your ex and i hope this is to your liking
TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @amethyistheart @mirxzii [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]
[21:13]
“you came.”
that was the first words that came out of your boyfriend, no ex boyfriend’s lips. no hi, no hello, no how are you doing. just…’you came’, straight to the point.
but you were used to that. you were used to xu minghao being straightforward and clear cut about what he wanted and what he was doing. and surprisingly, that was exactly what you loved about him.
or at least, had loved about him.
but now as you stared back at him resolutely, balling your hands into a fist as it snowed around the two of you, you could feel your entire will power crumbling as he looked at you with regret.
no, no, y/n! you promised yourself-
“i- i thought you might not-”
“yeah i wasn’t going to.” you cut him off before he could complete his sentence. it was a lie, a very blatant lie but it was better to say that than for him to see the tears that were now beginning to sting your eyes.
“right.” he muttered, looking crestfallen. for the first time since you had met him, you noticed that he looked thinner than he used to be, with dark circles underneath his eyes. he almost looked like he had been going through a rough time himself. and somehow that made your heart clench more painfully. “i deserve that. i’m sorry.”
“i wasn’t-”
“y/n.” he cut you off, taking a step closer to you. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
you gulped. “why are you sorry?”
tentatively, minghao reached out for your hands and you let him take them, letting the wall you had managed to build crumble away. “i’m sorry because- because it’s my fault that we broke up. i acted so nonchalantly in the relationship-”
“what do you want?” you asked, your voice now trembling very obviously. you were tired of pretending around him, tired of pretending that you were fine about the break up when in reality it had torn you apart.
minghao’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of your glossy eyes and he moved in even more closer. “when i was away from you, i realised that-” he gulped, “i realised that i- i really missed you. and i missed how much you always took care of me and how you were always beside me. i missed you so much, y/n.”
“why now?” you whispered, causing minghao to shake his head, as he gently brushed away the tear that had fallen down your cheek. “why now, hao? it- it hurt me so much, you know.”
“i- i know, love. i’m so, so sorry. i just didn’t have the courage after that…i’m sorry i’m such a coward.” saying that he took a step back, dropping your hands. “and i’ll understand and respect your decision if you want me to stay away from you. but y/n, i just wanted to tell you that…i love you. i really, really love you. i’ve hurt you and i’ve broken your heart and i’ll- i’ll try my level best to make up for everything i’ve done and i really love you so much y/n. but i understand if you don’t want to get back with me-”
even before he could complete his sentence, you flung your arms around his neck, engulfing him in a hug. minghao immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in even more closer as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, tears flowing down freely now.
“you idiot. you idiot.” you sobbed. “i hate you, hate you, hate you so much! i loved you so much hao, i love you so much.”
“i’m sorry.” he muttered, gently rubbing circles on your back. “i’m so sorry love.” then gently pulling you back slightly so that you could see each other, he said, “i’ll never let you go now. i promise.”
he looked at you with such sincere eyes that you found yourself believing all his words. “you better.”
© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
#╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒#╼ [𝟐𝟏:𝟏𝟑]#╼ 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒#caratlibrary#minghao x reader#xu minghao x reader#the8 x reader#seventeen x reader#minghao angst#minghao fluff#xu minghao angst#xu minghao fluff#the8 fluff#the8 angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt angst
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Blocked Contacts
Request: can you please do #15 with a protective hao? like he gets snarky with the ex and drops his funny one liners. thank yooou! :)
Prompt:
15) You and your bias run into your ex.
Pairing: Seventeen The8 x Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst
TW: Ex repeatedly contacting Y/N and showing up at their apartment.
.
Days off with Minghao were few and far between. With your opposing schedules and general life responsibilities, it was seldom you were both sharing your small apartment at the same time. When days free of responsibilities presented themselves, it was usually a gift.
Today, however, was not.
Cursing to yourself, you shut your laptop and pushed it away. You knew a disgusted expression was plain on your face as you looked up to Minghao who was casually eating his morning yogurt.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he said calmly, dragging his spoon along the bottom of the container.
"I don't know," you sighed, dropping your face into your palms.
He remained silent, the sound of metal hitting glass the only thing in the kitchen.
"If I do, I'm worried I'll get mad, and honestly, I don't want to waste that energy on him," you grumbled.
"Him?" Hao asked, trying to keep his tone casual, but you knew his curiosity had been piqued.
"My ex," you muttered, finally lifting your head. "THE ex."
"Ah," he hummed, looking back to his food. "What's he up to?"
"No idea, but he tried to message me."
"Sudden shortage of children to steal candy from?" he smirked. "Absolutely no puppies left to kick?"
"Hao," you chuckled, shaking your head. "He's not a cartoon villain."
"Forgive me, love," he sighed, leaning over to kiss you on the temple. Moving toward the sink, he dropped his spoon and spun back to face you. "But I've never met the man, so I have to go off of what you've told me."
"I hadn't realized I was giving such glowing reviews," you mused.
"Come here," Hao grinned, extending his arms, complete with grabby hands.
Narrowing your eyes at him, it took only a moment to give in. Shuffling over, you slid against his thin frame, and wrapped your arms around his waist. Nuzzling into his chest, you let out a content sigh as he rested his arms on your shoulders.
He kissed your scalp before setting his chin there. "Why are you so bothered?"
"Why aren't you?"
Hao had never been particularly jealous. He was confident in who he was, as well as your feelings for him. In his head, he had nothing to worry about, so why let an emotion as petty as jealousy creep in when he could keep it locked down?
That being said, he was human, and had gone off of his peaceful rails on occasion. This mostly happened when it came to your attention. If someone was actively trying to take away your time with him, he would have a problem with it. You were his. He had no patience for anyone who acted adversely to that.
"If I was bothered by every man who sought out to contact you, I would be incessantly grumpy," he hummed. You could hear the smile in his voice. "And at this point, I'd likely want nothing to do with any of my members and I'd be planning their demise right now."
"I kind of assumed you were planning one of their impending dooms at any given time," you teased.
"Now who's the cartoon villain?"
..
*DING*
*DING*
*DINGDING*
*DINGDINGDINGDING*
"Y/N," Minghao sighed, looking over his shoulder at you.
"Oh, so the noise is bothersome?" you laughed, dropping your phone on the coffee table. "I thought you had lost your hearing."
Pausing the program he was watching, Hao pivoted himself to face you instead of the television. "I know this is a novel idea, but have you heard of manner mode?"
"I know this is a novel idea, but have you heard of me not giving a shit?" you smirked. Pointing to your phone accusingly, you added. "Plus, I'm not the problem here."
"Well, you have my attention now," he accepted. "What's up?"
"I didn't respond to the message I got this morning," you reported. "So, homie apparently got ahold of my number somehow."
"Then block him."
"You, my love, are a genius," you beamed. "But don't you think I did that?"
Minghao rolled his eyes before scooting closer to you and picking up your phone. His face immediately warped with shock. "What is this?"
"All of the numbers he's created to contact me," you continued. "There's been at least ten at this point."
"Who does that?" he gasped, scrolling up and down. Clicking into a message, he began to read. "Why can't we just talk, Y/N? It's been so long. I've changed."
"Apparently not enough to realize I don't want to talk to him," you muttered, crossing your arms.
"Maybe it's time we start locking down you phone," Hao sighed, placing your phone back down as it continued to vibrate.
"Locking down my phone?" you asked, furrowing your brow.
Minghao pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "Yeah, it's common amongst idols. If someone isn't in your contacts, your phone simply will not allow them to call you."
"What about doctor's appointments?" you questioned, feeling increasingly nauseous about the new security suggestion. "Or if someone gets a new number? What am I supposed to do then? I don't have a manager to handle those types of things, Hao."
"I know," he groaned. "It was just a thought."
"Why should I have to change my life because he's an asshole?" you grumbled. "Isn't there anything we can do?"
"Short of what?" Hao chuckled, obviously frustrated. You hated that you were making this a problem for him too. Hated even more that you knew he wanted to protect you but didn't quite know how. "What do you want me to do? Hunt him down and beat some sense into his brainless head?"
"I mean, that wouldn't be entirely unappealing," you joked.
"Right," he deadpanned. "Your old boyfriend is a psychopath, and your new boyfriend is in jail for assault."
"You pretty much have a built-in gang," you grinned. "Surely at least Mingyu would be down to-"
"Y/N."
"Kidding!" you gasped, winding your body around his. "I just want him to go away."
Hao immediately melted into you, always the first to comfort when things were going sideways. "Want to order take out and forget outside communication exists?"
"That sounds lovely," you sighed. "I'll close my eyes and let you hide my phone."
"Perfect," he smiled. "No promises that I'll remember where I put it though."
"Even better."
...
You wiggled from side to side on the couch, contentment flooding through your bones. Minghao had wrapped you up in one of your softest blankets and put on one of your favorite reality shows before cuddling beside you. "I'm not sure why you watch this."
"And yet here you are," you hummed. "Brain rotting beside mine."
"I do it because I love you," he sighed. "But also, who is that? And why is the other girl yelling at him?"
"I can restart the episode, Hao," you laughed.
"No, no," he muttered, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment before he furrowed his brows. "Why would she do that?"
"Okay, I'm restarting-"
*Buzzzzzz* *Buzz Buzz*
"Is that the food?" you gasped, whipping your head toward your boyfriend. He grinned back before springing up.
"My food," he cackled. "Who said I was sharing?"
"Hao!" you gasped.
Giggling to himself, he began unlocking the handful of locks on the door before pulling it open. Swinging yourself around, you peeked over the back of the couch, eager to see what he had picked. Instead, you were surprised when he kept the door cracked and angled himself to hide whoever was on the other side.
"Well," you heard him say calmly. "This isn't my delivery."
"Who are you?"
If you hadn't continued breathing, you would have assumed your heart stopped. How had he found you? Better yet, how did he find the audacity to show up to where you lived with your new partner?
"I'm the person who lives here," Hao said slowly. "Do you have my chicken order or no?"
You knew that Hao was fully aware of what your ex-boyfriend looked like. He was simply toying with him at this point.
"Where's Y/N?"
You felt dizzy with anxiety. Why would he show up here? Sure, he was a supreme jerk when you had dated, but you never thought him capable of his behavior today.
"Who?" Hao asked, his voice all innocence. If you weren't hiding in the living room, fearing for your life, you would kiss him.
"I know they're here, man," your ex insisted. "Just let me see them."
"I have no idea who you're talking about," Hao said plainly. "They have a pretty name though."
If you were in better spirits, you would have giggled.
"Just-" you heard your ex begin to struggle as if he was attempting to move Hao out of the way, but your boyfriend stood firm.
"I would think before trying that again," Minghao said quietly, his tone venomous.
"I just..." your ex trailed helplessly. "I messed up. I want to make it right. I took time and realized that I really love Y/N."
"What's your name?" Hao asked, tilting his head.
"Jae," your ex said quietly.
"Funny," Minghao hmphed. "I haven't heard your name leave their lips. Not once. Plenty of other things though, my name included. Mostly in the dead of night, often loud enough for the neighbors to hear."
"So they're here?" Jae perked up.
You could hear Minghao sigh in defeat. Clearly, the bone head wasn't listening to him.
"They must have forgotten all about you," he said slowly. "Pity."
Backing away from the door, Hao slowly began to shut it. "I'll make one thing clear, so if you're going to clean the shit out of your ears and listen, now is the time. If you're not off my doorstep by the time my food delivery gets here, I will be calling the police.
And if you don't stop contacting Y/N, I'll make sure you'll have bigger problems than getting arrested."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I don't know what you mean," Hao said lightly, the door only open a few inches now.
"You just said-"
"You must have misheard," Hao sighed. "Anyways, tata, have a nice day."
Slamming the door and locking it immediately, Hao spun to look at you. "Baby?"
Having ducked back onto the couch, you tried to reclaim any semblance of calm. "Yeah?"
"You okay?"
Taking a deep breath, you popped up again and attempted a smile. "I think so?"
"I'm sorry," Hao said, immediately crossing the room toward you. Pulling your face toward his torso, he hugged your head while you were still sitting.
"What do you have to be sorry for?" you asked, looking up at him. He had done so much for you in the past day, let alone since you had been together. You didn't know if you could possibly love him any more than you did in this moment.
"That was the last thing I wanted you to have to experience," he sighed. You could tell the exchange had shaken him up more than he wanted to admit.
"Well," you said, looking up at him through your lashes. "You were extremely hot."
"Was I?" he chirped, tilting his head.
"Being assertive suites you," you grinned.
"Unfortunate," he hummed. "Because I wasn't a fan."
"That's fine," you said happily, burying your face into his stomach. "I wouldn't have you any other way."
#xu minghao#xu myungho#the8#seventeen#svt#seventeen the8#svt the8#seventeen minghao#svt minghao#the8 fluff#the8 angst#the8 fanfic#the8 x reader#minghao fluff#minghao fanfic#minghao x reader#minghao angst#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#svt x reader
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Remembrance of Ice
"Fear does anything but land with precision."
PAIRING: ice king!xu minghao x fem spy!reader
SYNOPSIS: Xu Minghao rules over a land where the sun never rises and crops never grow, shunned by the world for their nature so ruthless it has them caged within their borders.
That is, until you land straight into the dragon's den to find the story untold.
CONTAINS: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, kinda lore heavy, reader and minghao are in a perpetual spat, talks of military and political power, manipulation (not by minghao), ft. chan
WORD COUNT: 5.3k
masterlist
[AN]: MIKA DAY MIKA DAY MIKA DAY except im a day late bc I don't know how to time manage ANYWAY mika my love I hope you enjoy this you mentioned villain hao that one time and I stuck to it praying this is good ksjgnvrkjgn @toruro
id love to turn this into a longer, more detailed fic in the future, I really like this concept and theres loads more I could do with it. lmk if you'd like to see it hehe
edit: had to repost a couple times cuz it wasn't showing in the tags. it still isn't but idc anymore if this only reaches mika then so be it sgnkrtjg
The cold was the worst.
Your iced pride had been swallowed down to accept the flimsy cloth the guards that pushed you into this stone dungeon had given you. Not that it was doing much to help you, the thin fabric acting as more of a permeable layer than your gear.
Huddling into yourself, you breathe out warm exhales in the hopes that it’d do something about the face you couldn’t feel anymore. With the sight of your discolouring fingernails, you hope the people in this wretched place would decide what they wanted to do with you before you succumbed to the cold. There’s a bad taste in your mouth at the thought of dying a death like this – that the cold would become your ultimate demise.
The croning of the metal doors of your prison wrench open in what feels like a deafening sound, the screech having you throw the flimsy blanket off your body in haste. You would not be seen taking advantage of their supposed kindness.
The two guards that trudge in are quick to tell you to stand. You nearly laugh at the prospect of doing anything they ask.
“What do you want?” your voice has eroded to a brassy sound.
“Stand up,” the guard repeats, his face covered in the black balaclava that wraps around everything but spares his eyes. Cold, dark, soulless.
Your pride screamed to refute. But you were at a dead end, and perhaps it was time to accept it. Eyeing the weapons strapped to both their waists, moreso the lack thereof of your own, you make the first attempt to pull yourself up. It’s difficult, you find, needing a moment to regain your senses before pushing up completely. You tried not to show it, not wanting to look weak in front of the very people you need to show strength.
“Hands,” the other guard gruffs out.
You hesitate before bringing your shivering wrists forward, cursing yourself for not being able to control your own body. The cuffs they bind to your wrists are somehow even colder, and you have to consciously bite back a cursed wince.
Your resolve begins to truly thin when you struggle to simply take a few steps forward, the muscles in your legs frozen like everything else in the room. You manage to not fall. A commendable feat when your goals went from overtaking a couple of (very armed) guards to simply not falling over like a newborn fawn.
You feel them lightly shove you out the gates, something you should not have struggled to recover from from, but alas, you can only grit your already ground teeth as you try to not tip over entirely. The halls of the dungeons are made of the same gray concrete as your cell, the tight corridor leading you out into an only slightly larger hall with a single door at the seemingly dead end.
The large brass handle with the distinct reptile circling its expanse stares at you. You are forced to consider the idea that these may be your final breaths.
One of the guards squeezes out into the hall and approaches the door, three sharp knocks to the wood before you hear a muffled “come in.”
Your feet remain planted to the floor as you feel another push of the guard that remains behind you, urging you forward as the other one stands at the door, expecting you to walk inside. Perhaps some would classify this as a moment of weakness, especially when all you’ve been taught is to face death with anything but fear. But it seeps into your bones regardless.
You wonder if all those stories you were told of fearless soldiers and sheilds of humans were as lionhearted in their final moments as the storytellers claimed, as brave as the legends that followed.
You considered yourself one of the best in your field, most of your peers agreed. And yet, that moment of hesitancy in the face of potential death caged you in an unimaginable retaliance. What on Earth was wrong with you?
And so you moved forward, one foot in front of the other with resilience fueled by pure outrage at your own feeble mind. You would do as you were taught, you would march into the mouth of the dragon because you were not allowed to fear death. You refused to meet your end as a coward.
The cuffs that encase your wrists burn at the skin as you walk into the room. It’s small, small enough to force you and the two guards to shift closer to keep from the man that stands across the room.
You almost don’t notice him, which alarms you immensely. Regardless of the stark black attire that matches the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the tiny room, the man seems to blend into the shadows, becoming part of the walls. His back faces you as he looks out the window, like he’s invigorated with the snow that drifts to the earth.
It’s nighttime. It’s always night time here.
“The prisoner, sire,” the one in your left gruffs out.
The man at the window turns to face you, the sight of his face causing you to bite back a gasp.
His skin is the same colour as the snowflakes that fall behind him, near glistening white. It seems to make every other feature of his face stand out in earnest; the black of his eyes, the crimson of his lips, the dark of his hair.
He’s gorgeous, you decide, but you also decide that you may be about to die at his hands.
There’s also the matter of how he was addressed by the goons that flank you. Unless sire means something else in this godforsaken land, you should have realized who this is by now.
Xu Minghao’s expression remains unchanged, the mild disinterest evident as he barely glances at you before taking a seat at the makeshift office area in the middle of the room. He leans back against the plush, finally regarding the other people in the room with words.
“You can leave.”
You hear the guards begin to file out the room.
“Ah—take off the restraints before you go. And shut the door.”
You want to describe what his voice sounds like, and while indifferent to another, it’s like a million icicles plunging into your eardrums. It isn’t until the guard blocks your view to unlock you that you realize how strained your eyes were, like it was draining to simply look at him.
When both guards have left the vicinity, doors closed with a deep thud, you set yourself in steel. Just because he was about to kill you didn't mean you were about to make it easy for him.
You wonder why a king was meddling to discard a mere enemy officer, but if you knew anything of their bloodthirst, this was a form of amusement.
“Well?” you say, your voice still bare-there.
“Take a seat.” He means the lone chair that stands on your side of the table.
“No,”
His eyebrows shoot up, “No?”
You stare at him, and it's the first time he’s looked at you for more than three seconds.
“No,” you reiterate. “If you’d like to eliminate me, I’d suggest we cut to the chase. I don’t want your bleak hospitality.”
“Are you offering your head?”
“I’m asking you to quit the niceties. We know what you are.”
He studies you for a moment before continuing quietly, “Who is we?”
Your jaw is set as you calm yourself down, “The people who keep coming into your barren lands, only to never return. My people.”
“Your people that keep invading this barren land, only to find out that actions have consequences?”
“The mere thought of us is a consequence for you vermin,” you spit.
“Your people, you had said?” There’s a strange hint of jest in his voice, and it only infuriates you even more.
“Yes,” you breathe out.
“Your people who have not once attempted to negotiate your release from us vermin, I thought your people were known for your camaraderie. Especially for such an important soldier, do they truly consider you that disposable? ”
The low fester of embers had now ignited into a full flame, the rage becoming near indescribable. Aside from how heinous, you had underestimated how infuriating his kind could be.
“You know nothing of me!” your voice is loud, your own shade of venom that laces your tongue.
And then he says your name.
You falter.
He shouldn’t know that. You don’t have a nametag, nothing to identify you on any record, anywhere. And yet, you know what you’ve heard is your name that fell from his lips, undeniably so.
He continues with the faintest sneer, “Captain of the SUN team, first in line from your peers for a promotion, and of course, right hand of your idiotic General of the Army.”
You can't be sure if you’re shivering from the cold or the rage that courses through every vein in your body. Perhaps it was the latter as you feel your mind shortcircuit at the sight of his smug face.
And, of course, with the way you lunge.
It takes barely a second for your numb fingers to reach his pristine throat, curling with the need to rupture his airways beyond measure. It also takes him barely a second to step out of the way, causing you to thud into the table, fingers faltering as they grasp onto nothing.
The air is knocked out of your chest, and you don’t realize what’s happened. He’s quick, and you’re out of shape. He’s on the other side of the table, hands in his pockets as he stares at your weak attempts at regaining your bearings.
“This is the problem with your people. Why must your first response to any confrontation be to fight to the death?”
Leaping over the table, you attempt to corner him against the wall, only to find him leap over to the other side of the table when you advance, switching your initial spots. It might have even been laughable if you weren’t so heated, like children running around in circles in a lethal game of tag.
He takes advantage of yet another moment of weakness you’ve shown, pushing the separating table directly into you, forcing you back as you stumble to hit the window. The opening is just enough to fit your waist, with no room for your legs to leap back over, locked in at the sides of the table that effectively cages your body between wood and glass.
Your first instinct is to push the wretched thing back, but you realize very quickly that you can’t. It shouldn’t explain how he was able to cage you in a place like this, especially with his scrawny build. Unless he’s locked it in place somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him.
“What the fuck?” you gasp out to mostly yourself.
“You’ve weakened, little soldier. I heard you were better than this.”
“Let me go so I can prove it to you then,” you spit, still fruitlessly struggling against your prison.
“Had your chance,” he states, hands in his pockets, an eyebrow cocked. “Of course, fear does anything but land with precision. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
“What makes you think I’m scared of you?”
“Oh, you are such a simpleton,” he narrows his eyes.
“You haven’t been talking about anything of substance for someone who doesn’t claim to be scared. What’s holding you?” you gruff.
He stares for a moment like he’s studying you. For some reason, your struggling falters, his piercing gaze leaving you wondering what he had up his sleeve.
“You know you are weak. Your strength isn’t nearly where it had been when you arrived. I’ve also been told you’ve been starving yourself.”
“I said I don’t want your hospitality!”
“You were supposedly indifferent to everyone in the room, including the guards, but you kept your eyes on me like a hawk. The first mention out your mouth was of death.”
“Was I supposed to expect compassion?” you mock, but the desperation lingers in your voice.
“Can’t be helping knowing nobody is looking for you,” he finishes.
“Because you would’ve sent me on my way home if they were? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Quite right, yes.”
“Like you did with the other soldiers that seemingly disappear in your lands?”
“Nobody asked, so we did not deliver.”
“Lies!” It comes out as a near scream.
You think of all the stretched months that turned into inevitable years trying to retrieve your lost manpower. Of course, your higher-ups asked for hostage negotiations, did everything in their power to bring them home.
Fitting for the man in front of you to deny it, but infuriating nonetheless.
“And you’re wildly defensive,” he sighs. “You’re scared. Of being in enemy territory, of dying, of being alone. One or the other, that’s for you to decide.”
You want to scream again.
“They lied to you, soldier. And I may be a villain in your self-written history books, but you will come to know of the harsh truth, from me or anybody else. You should know what exactly it is that you’re fighting for.”
“What are you yapping about?”
He turns back around, moving to the door before rapping a knock. The guards re-enter the room.
“Take her to base.”
“Chan?”
He stands at the entrance of the tent, speaking to somebody in armor with a solemn expression. He turns around at the sound of his name, catching sight of you walking up.
He breaks out into a smile at the sight of you, eyes going wide as he excuses himself to sprint over. You’re not quite sure if the fatigue is causing you to hallucinate, but with the way his face becomes clearer with every step he takes, you have to convince yourself that you’re not.
As appropriate as it is to slam into him in a hug, considering you thought he was dead mere seconds ago, you can’t see yourself caring.
“They told me it was you that arrived,” he says.
“Oh my god, I thought you were dead. Everybody thought you were dead. How are you here?” you breathe into his ear.
He pulls away slowly, and you note how he doesn’t meet your eyes.
“Chan?”
“There’s a lot to unpack here. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
A lot to unpack there was, you realize, as the guards leave you with Chan when said to. The questions doubled when you entered the significantly warmer tent to find it swarming with familiar faces, busy working on tables littered with charts and papers, military symbols drifting overhead.
Chan is quick to let you know that none of the ‘fallen’ soldiers were missing at all. In fact, were stationed here at this military base.
Your gaping mouth renders no response as he fishes you both through the hustle and bustle of the industrial canopies, destination unknown. As much as you’d kick yourself for your lack of vigilance, you find yourself trusting him to take you wherever, your mind preoccupied with trying to absorb every detail of your environment.
If this was what sensory overload was, you’re not sure you like it blocking your thinking capabilities this much.
He lets you into another tent, littered with trunks and equipment, lit with a couple hardworking oil lamps. He goes to rummaging in random trunks as you watch.
“What is this place?”
“Inventory. Clothes and a bunch of other stuff,” he says as he throws you a pile of fabric. “Here, change into this, it’s warmer.”
He leaves you alone in the tent to change, which you do quickly to meet him again outside. Moving the flap of the tent away, you find him out in the snow waiting.
It isn’t until you’ve adequately cornered him that you can ask. “Chan, are being held here against your will? Is everybody here—”
“Wait, hold,” he holds a hand up to silence you. “Just—let me explain.”
You’re rendered silent in a corner of this base camp, albeit a little warmer than when you came in with the effective coat you’re now shrouded in. Other than being lost in a mine of confusion, you notice the calculated expression on Chan’s face when you bring it up. Like he didn’t know how you’d react.
“There’s been a lot of lies our entire life. One’s that we didn’t realize till we landed here,” he starts, facing the endless plane of snow to the East.
“What on Earth are you talking about?” you ask, keeping your eyes steady on him.
“These people aren’t cruel, nor are they the animals we’ve been told they are,”
“Chan, what is wrong with you?” you take a step back in mild exasperation.
“Listen, this sounds insane, but it’s only because we’ve been brought up to believe anything the government told us, anything our superiors drilled into our heads. I’d started having doubts while we were still home—”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Nobody wanted to tell you anything. You were more loyal to the General than you were to yourself!”
“I—because…” you falter. He was right.
“They’ve taken advantage of the way this land refuses to retaliate. We’ve been in the wrong this whole time.”
“I don’t know what it is that they’ve been feeding you for so long, but this isn’t the Chan that left home all those months ago.”
“You’re right,” you hear, but it’s not Chan.
Whipping your head around, you find the overlord himself walking to where you were.
“Apologies for interrupting, but I think you’re needed back there, Chan,” Minghao informs him as he regards him.
You whip back around to Chan, “Wait, you can’t just—”
“Listen, it’s going to take you a little bit, but I promise you’ll see what I mean,” he reiterates.
“This is absurd—” you start again but are cut off by him again. He lurches forward, grasping both your wrists in his, forcing you to pay attention to him.
“Do you trust me?”
“W-what?”
“Answer the question. Do you trust me?”
You stare at him, stumped for a moment. Did you trust him? Five months ago, before he left, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. Yet, now you find yourself hesitating.
“Yes. I trust you,” you decide out loud.
“Then give it time. You’re shaken, you’re exhausted, you’re confused. You’ll make your decision yourself when you see for yourself.”
He watches your shoulders droop ever so slightly, a clear sign of your surrender. “Fine.”
“Good.”
You turn back to find the other man long gone, the vast expanse of snow and darkness engulfing the plane that leads to the congregation of tents. Chan begins to lead you back, mumbling about how he needs to get back inside.
It’s during your trudge that you realize there’s something that still bugs you, supposing you’d get your answer if you asked him.
“What’s the king doing meddling in military bases and war prisoners?” you begrudgingly ask.
“He’s very… hands-on, I guess. He cares about what happens around here, his land, his people.”
“Like a normal ruler?” you mumble in annoyance.
“When was the last time you saw the General leave his office?”
You haven’t.
A month. That’s how long you’ve been at this base camp.
Enlightenment may be an understatement to what this place is giving you, absurdities that they call the truth. Absurdities, as you may have called them a moon ago.
This barren country did not have a military, you were told. These makeshift headquarters were made to keep up with the endless external aggressions from the other side.
“They’re all people given the choice to stay. We needed the manpower. Military precision was never our forte,” Minghao explains.
You hate how he has an answer to every critical question of yours, how you’ve gone past thinking this was some elaborate, well-thought-out story to put your guard down, to put everyone’s guard down.
Sitting at this wooden table with maps and charts littering the surface, he looks you down from the other end. Chan remains silent next to you, knowing that if you asked, he would’ve given you the same response.
“So you’re trying to build an army? To what, retaliate?” Your arms remain crossed over your middle.
“We cannot retaliate,” Chan says.
“The difference in military power is too much, anyway. We can’t fight something that fights us in different ways,” Minghao finishes. He looks stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You watch him drag a chair to sit down.
The majority of camp was resting for the day, leaving the base relatively empty save for the three of you.
“Different ways?” you question.
You watch him close his eyes, running a hand over his face. “Chan, you told me she was smart.”
“She’s having a harder time adjusting than I thought she would,” he chuckles humourlessly in response.
“Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to take another month to figure it out on my own?” you snap.
“What have you been told about our borders? Why is this land the way that it is,” Minghao starts.
You don’t have an answer because you’ve never been told. The general was forever adamant that a land and its people were interconnected, that Minghao’s nation was as ruthless as the land itself was.
“What about what you thought?” he tries again.
“Nature’s weird, I don’t know,” you huff.
“You were so loyal to a man that had no rhyme to his reason. How blind did you have to be—”
“Keep to the question,” you monotone.
He exhales before continuing. “This land is the incarnation of balance. It might not look like it, but we play the most important role in making sure your nations remain stable.”
“Regular communities cannot survive in this weather, the livestock perishes, and crops cannot grow. Everything that makes humanity thrive remains absent here.” Minghao places his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “But it remains like this here so the rest of the world can foster humanity; that’s the purpose of this land.”
“A sacrifice of sorts,” Chan adds quietly.
“My land remains lifeless so others may thrive,” Minghao finishes.
“Why…why this land?” you question after a few beats.
He leans back against his chair, “I don’t know. Perhaps my ancestors were cursed. Perhaps this is just what this land was made to do. All I know is that my mother and father left me the job of ensuring this place is protected, as their mother and father taught them. All for the sake of keeping balance.”
It was wildly ironic that a place that was the definition of extreme was seemingly also harboring the balance to this world, but you found no jest in his words. You had also learned that it was the more unbelievable things here that would turn out to be most true, so you let yourself believe in whatever lore you had just unlocked.
“So you can’t retaliate,” you echo.
“Not if we wish to keep the peace, no.”
Chan chimes in this time, “This is all really just a misunderstanding that’s fallen into the wrong hands. The General’s a bloodthirsty fuck; this is just an excuse for him to retain power and satisfy all his sick fantasies.”
“How do we fix this then?” you dare to ask.
“We can’t,” Minghao says. “Not right now, at least. If we want to make a move, we have to grow as an entity. What your General doesn’t understand is how he’s feeding his own enemy whenever he sends some poor soldier our way.”
“That’s what everyone’s been working on. The SUN team is nearly complete with you here. We need to equip everyone here with skills more than anything,” Chan says.
“And then?”
“And then we let the General know who’s side we’re really on.”
Xu Minghao had a very peculiar way as King.
Other than remaining in the same bunkers as the rest of the population, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone besides the guards address him as sovereign. He sat with everyone during mealtimes, spoke to everyone like a friend, yet remained the one in charge.
Over the months, you remained the last newcomer of the bunch, learning slowly but surely of your new truth. That was, until your sixth month.
It happened during breakfast, walking out into the dark sky to greet the person Minghao had told you was the newest aggravated prisoner. You knew her from headquarters, having seen her multiple times as she trained, but never learned her name. Her brows unfurrow slightly at the sight of you, recognizing you immediately.
You try to stay as others who remain familiar to the newcomer speak to her, adding where your credibility was due. You underestimated how difficult it would be, not because she was being frustrating, but because she was frustrated.
With every surge of exasperation she showed, every snarky remark to words of reason, you saw yourself. A strange, heavy feeling sets itself in your chest, making it difficult to speak, difficult to simply stand there as you watch her ideologies rendered as lies.
So you excuse yourself, moving out of the way into the snow you’d learned to make a confidant instead of an irritation. It wasn’t strange to find somebody contemplating alone in the snow, the constant darkness ready to keep everyone company.
You aren’t sure what it is that you want to contemplate, but simply sitting in the snow helps, allowing you to remain unstimulated. The weird feeling remained, but what also remained was your brain's inability to distinguish one from the other.
You don’t know how long you had been sitting there, but are aware of the lighter sheen of blue that the sky has turned into when you hear trudging behind you. You turn to find Minghao approaching, halting a foot away.
“Did you see the newcomer?” he asks.
“Yeah. They’re handling it, she’ll be fine.”
It falls silent once more. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t warmed up to the man in the past months, perhaps even enough to call yourself friends. Chan had quite the role to play in that.
He invites himself to sit next to you in the snow, letting out a deep exhale that fogs the air. “I wanted to ask if you were okay.”
You’re stumped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well…” he chortles. “You’ve been sitting here for a good three hours, so I only thought it was natural to assume.”
“It’s not good to assume.”
“And that you can’t be doing too well seeing the newcomer.”
“...Got me,” you whisper, still gazing into the far-off mountains.
“You can talk about it if you want,” he offers.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sigh.
“Or is there too much to talk about?” he raises a brow.
You’ve turned to look at him at this point, making out his facial features with the low light of the lamps that burn in the distance.
“How do you do that?”
“What?”
“Know what I’m thinking about.”
“You’re easier to read than you think,” he chuckles. “Why? D’you think I’m reading your mind?”
“Seems like it sometimes.”
“Do you miss home?” he asks, albeit a little cautiously.
“I do. I miss what it meant to me. I don’t think I could go back and feel the same way, though,” you answer. If he was trying to get you to open up, he was succeeding.
“Why’s that?”
You snort, “Obvious, isn’t it? Can’t call a place full of lies home. I can’t believe I let them manipulate me to that extent.”
You think of the mental turmoil on the girl's face.
“It wasn’t your fault. You were doing what you taught.”
“Other people found holes in the story, though. They saw the beginnings of what was really happening. I was so blind, they couldn’t even try to talk me out of it.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself. It was the General’s job to be conniving. What use if his right hand could see through it. With how long it took you to come around, it only shows how dangerous he is.”
You remain silent as you absorb his words. There was truth to them, but you find it hard to dissolve it into your mindset.
“What matters is you're here now, that you chose the truth despite what you’d grown to learn.” He’s staring right at you when he says it, something you find as you look up to do the same.
There’s a lurch in your stomach, one that has your cheeks burning despite the temperature.
“How do you not hate any of these people? How do you not hate me? We’re the reason your people are so detested,” your voice comes out shaky, yet thick with a weird mix of emotions.
“I hate the ones that choose to be like this despite knowing what the truth is.”
“Like the General?”
“Like the General.”
It’s silent as you watch him gaze into your soul, an uncomfortable feeling yet one that stops you from looking away.
You want to kiss him.
The thought alone has you jumping in place, shaking off the way your body seems to have seized up. You move your knees away in blatant ignorance, looking at anything but his face.
“What?” he asks at your sudden change in behavior.
“Nothing!” you say, a little too loud to be considered casual.
“Why’d you move away?”
“I didn’t!” Of course, you realize how stupid you sound. You huff as you continue, “Just—I don’t know!”
“You don’t know what?”
“Goodness, you need to learn to drop things.”
“Not when it involves me,” he says.
“Who says it involves you?”
“Do we need to go over this again?”
You look at him in question, only to realize he could read you just as well as he could at any other instance.
“You’re not gonna like it,” you finally say.
“Try me.”
“Would you hate me if I said I wanted to kiss you?”
He pauses for an agonizing few moments, ones that make you feel like erupting into a ball of fire that could melt all the snow in the land. Your numb fingers fidget with each other, hating yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth.
Minghao uses his mouth in ways other than words when you feel it against your lips. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening and another to let your body take control.
He’s kissing you so painfully slow it has you wondering if you’re imagining it, the feeling of his surprisingly warm lips on your frozen ones. You pull away for a moment, a question ringing in your mind.
“I’m not making a mistake, am I?” you breathe into his mouth.
“Absolutely not,” he says, diving back in with a force not present before.
You throw your arms around him in instinct to keep yourself from falling back onto the snow in his newfound enthusiasm. Not that you can find yourself complaining, especially not when his tongue prods against your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him.
You let him pull you closer, let him explore your mouth, let him hold you as you give yourself up to the feelings that now, after so long, have finally boiled over.
You’re both breathless when you pull away, remaining in each other’s arms as you gain your bearings.
“Figured it out, did you?” he asks with the slightest smirk.
Of course, with every passing instance that he’s reminded you of the mental walls you don’t seem to have with him, this was perhaps his end goal. You want to ask when he figured out you liked him before, wondering if he had known before you had in the first place.
He doesn’t let you, though, as his smiling lips meet yours again, chasing the feeling that's come forth after months of waiting.
You’ll find out the run down soon enough. For now, you give into him, believing in your ice-cold heart that Xu Minghao would never lie to you.
Taglist: @weird-bookworm @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#minghao#minghao fluff#minghao angst#minghao imagines#minghao x reader#the8#em.writes
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— ✧ flight of the stars (teaser)
read the full fic here!
"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff
description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.
tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, hansol, cheol, wonwoo, & hannie
w/c: teaser 580+, full fic estimated ~15k (currently at 10k!)
estimated release: if not in time for his birthday (11/07), it will be done by the end of the month! join my taglist if ur interested!!
Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway. “He seems like, really sad, so—”
“Well, obviously. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.
“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.
You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.
“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”
You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.
“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.
“Yeah.”
“Is it better now?”
“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”
“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.
As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?
His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.
Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.
“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” The possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.
You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.
#minghao x reader#minghao smut#minghao x you#minghao imagines#xu minghao x reader#xu minghao smut#xu minghao fanfic#xu minghao fluff#xu minghao angst#minghao angst#the8 x reader#the8 smut#svt smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen angst#svt angst#📝 writing
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we shouldn’t have ended like this | x.mh
- leave your message after the beep
oneshot | 1.3k | exes! au | angst
it’s three am and xu minghao has never felt more lonely in life. drunk on melancholy and emptiness, he ruminates on your relationship and regrets the way you both had ended. even though it’s late at night, minghao tries to rewrite his wrongdoings because deep down he knows a part of you still loves him.
~ paring . xu minghao x gender-neutral!reader
~ content . exes (to lovers???)! au, non idol! au, miscommunication- no even lack of communication,
~ tw . mentions of alcohol, vague mentions of sex
~ song rec . only ones we know - arctic monkeys
~ author’s note . the idea for this was adapted from some of my poetry. my prose is still a bit rusty but i hope this is decent enough! happy christmas to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t hope you have a great day, happy reading! 🫶
MINGHAO’S BED IS EMPTY.
It has been for the past year, yet he can’t wrap his head around it. He lies down on the navy sheets of his queen-sized bed and reaches out to the other side. For some reason he expects it to be warm to the touch: he is met with only coolness. Not cool in the way a sip of water after a mint is or the rush of the winter wind not blocked by fabric. The coolness is like a ghost: the phantom of you that haunts every part of his dwelling.
The walls mourn for your presence, whispering your name, muted pleas into Minghao’s ear. Your name creeps up on him when he least expects it, after the two month-mark, he gave up trying to push you out. ‘It shouldn’t have ended like this,’ the walls call out to him. ‘We shouldn’t have ended like this,’ your last words to him. It shouldn’t have ended like this.
If Minghao squints hard enough, he can still see the imprint of your body, the permanent dent in the mattress where you used to lie. Minghao tries to pretend that just minutes ago, you were engulfed in his sheets, him engulfed in you. He waits for you to fill the dent in the mattress, to mend the hole in his heart.
But you don’t come. And he is alone.
Minghao turns over to face the celling, his jet-black hair falling on his pillow around his head like a halo. His fan spins like a vinyl on a record player from the 60’s. In his head, it’s playing your favourite song. He hums along to the lyrics, you always said he had a good singing voice. This thought almost breaks him.
You broke up with Minghao because you thought you could not love him enough, not knowing your mere presence was more than enough for him. If you were a baby flame, he was a pyromaniac, hand outstretched ready to be burnt. But when it got hard you pushed him away to protect his own feelings, so he became distant and pushed you out. It came to a point where Minghao felt it was like living with a stranger.
When you proposed a breakup, Minghao wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t act like he was either. He stayed deathly silent as you spoke, staring into his mug of tea that had long gone cold. “Fine.” He said as he looked into brown void of his cup (if he looked you in the eye, he would have broke). But with your closing words he knew it was a mistake, you still loved him (he will forever love you). It shouldn’t have ended like this, yet Minghao did nothing to prevent it.
Even after a year, Minghao wonders why he didn’t fight harder. Maybe it’s because, subconsciously, he knew you were too good for him. You deserved someone less cowardly, someone who would never let you go like a children’s balloon, would never let you go so easily. Yet nothing can stop the green-eyed monster of jealousy, waltzing around in her emerald ball gown whenever he hears about you with someone else. Your shared friends give him updates on how you’re doing, but when someone else is mentioned romantically, he shuts out. Trying to piece together why it wasn’t him instead.
Selfishness is a sin - he knows that - but he can’t help from wanting you all to himself. So, he tries to have you in any way he can. He sleeps with your favourite blanket, he washes his clothes with your favourite brand of detergent and in the winter, by the heater, he warms a pair of your house slippers that you never remembered to collect. He searches for you in the bodies of others, the dips in their collarbones and curves of their spines, but of course they cannot compare to you. No one does. If these hook ups amounted to even 1% of what Minghao feels for you, then he wouldn’t complain. But they don’t.
Minghao misses you.
In life, Minghao believes that people only get one chance at true love. He’s scared that he’s used all his luck up on you.
The loss of you gnaws away at him. It wains away at his resolve and destroys any hope for a life away from you. A slow dull pain, it was always in the back of his mind: inescapable though manageable. Minghao didn’t know what was different about tonight, but all he knows is that he has never felt the same about anyone else.
The past kills him. It strangles him, leaving him paralysed with no choice but to face his mistakes. His love for you kills him inside out. It eats away at his psyche until all that is left of him are his feelings for you. It’s three am and all that remains of him is you.
It has always been you.
Fuck it, he picks up his phone off his nightstand and dials your number. Minghao knows he’s not thinking straight, but if he doesn’t at least try to reach you, he will resent himself until the day he dies. The line starts to ring and Minghao holds the phone to his ear with bated breath and clammy hands. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears pounding like a wooden mallet while he waited.
After what felt like eons, the line goes to voicemail. Of course, it did, it’s three am. Minghao feels stupid for thinking you’d pick up. The automated voice reads out the predetermined script to tell him that you can’t answer the phone the right now. It then asks to leave a message if desired. Minghao knows he shouldn’t, he doesn’t care, he loves you.
- Leave your message after the beep - “Hey, it’s Minghao” his voice wavers, it’s obvious he’s nervous. “Call me when you get this.”
Minghao presses the keypad to end the voice message, yet he feels empty. This isn’t closure, this isn’t what he needs. With this alone, in the morning, you’ll probably delete the message and go on with your life.
Minghao is tired of pretending to be rational, hiding his feelings behind a masquerade of poise and nonchalance. He’s going insane because of you, and he needs to let you know, you need to know how much he loves you.
He left another voicemail.
- Leave your message after the beep - “Y/N, I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t blame you. A year of no contact and you get a call from me out of the blue, but for once I’m begging, give me a chance. Listen, I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we first met, since the day we broke up and i think i’m going to love you every day until I die. I don’t think i let it show but you were my endgame, after you i don’t want to love anyone else,”
Minghao could feel himself rambling, his words tumbling from his lips uncontrollably. His heart is a spilled glass of milk, all his soul on display for your critique. He wants to stop himself from speaking but he can’t, so he continues,
“Letting you go so easily was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I should’ve fought for you, and I know it may be too late but I’m doing it now.
Tomorrow let me take you out to dinner, we can dress up nice and get drunk off our heads. Then I’ll order us a taxi back to yours or mine I don’t mind, then we’ll slow dance to that one jazz album you like, and I’ll promise to never push you away. Things won’t be perfect, and we both have a lot to work on, but I don’t care. Everything is perfect enough for me as long as you're by my side. And before you say I’m drunk, trust me I’m not, I’m a bit sleepy but that doesn’t change a thing. I love you so much Y/N.”
Minghao cuts the phone down and the screen fades to his lock screen, a candid photo of you from a year ago that he refused to change. He places his phone on his heart (your home) and falls asleep waiting for it to ring.
#seventeen angst#seventeen x reader#seventeen oneshot#seventeen drabble#seventeen fanfic#svt angst#svt x reader#svt oneshot#the8#xu minghao#minghao x reader#minghao angst#minghao fluff#minghao oneshot#the8 angst#the8 fluff#the8 x reader#the8 oneshot#both reader and minghao are low-key pricks in this lmao
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love is the fuel
author's note. minghao is so?? he’s inspiration himself. like whatever i’d come up with, he’ll always fit the scenario. or in general, i feel like i just want to write for him again and again and again??? do you get me???
author's note. cursing
word count. 729
the soft jazz music filled the room, along with quiet sounds of minghao folding the paper. it was calm and relaxing, especially with the rain drops tenderly drumming on your windows.
suddenly there of a ping! of incoming text, followed by–
“for fuck’s sake! god damnit, no! i’m done, i have enough! no, no, no. i’m not doing it anymore!” you whined and stood from your chair, paddling around the table. minghao looked at you, slightly amused and concerned.
you let out a deep sigh, pushing your hair back.
“what is it, love?” he asked gently, putting away the origami figure he just finished making. then he rested his chin on his palms, watching you.
“can i just drop it? oh, i know! we can just marry secretly with no family whatsoever or, or they will just stand there like everyone wants! i don’t care…” you grunted and leaned against the chair, gripping the backrest. your future husband tilted his head curiously, lips curling into a smile.
“honey, i don’t know what happened but don’t let it make you want to run away” he chuckled, slowly grabbing another paper to start folding another origami figure. maybe a tiger now, for soonyoung.
“no but…” you whined and rushed next to him, plopping down. then you handed him your phone with the text you just got “it’s my aunt. she just texted me she doesn’t want to sit next to mrs lee because they just had a fight. and if there’s no option for her to sit somewhere else then either she won’t come or she wants mrs lee not to come”
minghao halted his moves, gaze shifting at you.
“i… can we switch? you’re doing what you like, having fun the origami and i’m struggling with the seats” you grunted, crossing your arms.
sure, you knew planning a wedding will be hard but you hoped it will make some great memories and people will help. and yeah, your and hao’s friends helped in this and that but there were certain cases that you had to take care of. like seating the guests.
“but you wanted to do it in first place, baby” he hummed, amused by the aunt drama.
“yeah but… i thought it will be fun. how do you have the patience to do that and i don’t…” you mumbled, resting your head on the table (careful enough not to crush his paper figures).
“i don’t”
you looked up, sending him a confused look. minghao scoffed at your cutely frowned eyebrows.
your fiancé wanted to hand make origami figures for each guest and staff member. some of them were personalised, like tiger for hoshi or cats for wonwoo, jun and woozi. that way they could enjoy the wedding as well and take the figurines home as a precious memory.
“sure, i thought it will be fun. just like you. but i ran out of patience, especially when some of them just didn’t look right. for example, the one for lee sungkyung took me three days to finally get it right. i wanted to give up, really” he sighed and started tracking shapes on your arm “but then i thought… it won’t be fair, right? some of the guests will be treated like royalty and some won’t? but above all the love for you is my fuel”
“what?” you looked up, meeting his ebony irises. he caressed your face and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.
“whenever i wanted to give up i thought about you. how hardworking you are… or how much i love you. and it worked” he hummed “i can help you if you want, hm?”
you nodded, pecking his jaw.
“thank you. and i love you so much” you said. a bright smile bloomed on his face
“show me the plan, what do you have so far” he put the origamis away gently, careful not to destroy them. especially the one he made for you, from the hand-written letter he wrote (obviously you didn’t know, he will give it to you after the ceremony) “maybe we could place seungcheol next to your aunt? i’m sure she’d love his company”
you giggled, to your fiancé’s relief. he couldn’t help himself but place another loving kiss on your forehead. grabbing your hand and interlocking your fingers, he listened to you as you explained all the seat arrangements.
masterlist <3
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth
#svt fluff#svt crack#svt reactions#svt#seventeen#svt imagines#svt fic#svt x y/n#svt x reader#svt x you#svt au#svt angst#minghao#minghao reactions#minghao angst#minghao scenarios#minghao seventeen#minghao x y/n#the8 seventeen#minghao fluff#the8 fluff#minghao au#minghao imagines#svt scenarios#minghao fanfic#the8 fanfic#the8 imagines#the8 scenarios#svt soft hours#the8
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Angel // Minghao
"Always and angel. Never a God"
DESCRIPTION: She knew she never fully had him – despite his countless reassurance that she did. She wasn't stupid, she knew that she had big shoes to fill and though his words said one thing, the ghost of his past says otherwise.
GENRE: Angst
There was a ghost of her that haunted every part of your relationship.
He said it wasn't so but you felt it.
She had been long gone for years but you can feel her presence with every time he touched you, with every word he said, with the cologne he chose to wear, and the songs he listened to.
It was all her.
The girl that once occupied his heart before you did.
He never once uttered her name, not even during the worst of your fights. He never once held her over your head.
But he didn't need to.
He kept her around – his favorite jacket he wore during the cold winter months were from her. The chain that dangled above your face during the nights he made you his, she purchased.
He doesn't think you know, but he underestimated a your power to sleuth – finding all information about her down to what high school she graduated.
But it wasn't just him.
His friends kept in contact with her - her name slipping from their lips every now and then when we were in group settings. You knew they didn't intend to utter it, you can see the regret in their eyes as they pause in the middle of their sentences.
And every single time, you pretended not to hear it.
You pretend to not be fazed by the sinking feeling in my stomach; the voice in your head screaming at you.
"You'll never measure up to her."
Everyone had their own demons. Yours just so happened to be your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend.
"Angel," Minghao's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, turning to face him. "You okay? You're out in space over there."
You pulled your lips into a tight smile, giving him a soft nod. "Just– thinking."
"About?"
Her.
"Nothing." You shook your head, scooting into his open arms – allowing him to pull you against his chest.
"Is it about what Jun said?"
What Jun said.
The reason why you allowed your thoughts to consume you.
During dinner, your boyfriend's best friend had accidentally mentioned her as he gushed over the meal in front of them. He spoke of how Kaia was the one that showed them the Italian restaurant – the one that Minghao had claimed to be his favorite when he had first brought you around.
You thought it was the one final place that she didn't haunt.
Boy, were you oh so wrong.
For the remainder of the night, you couldn't help but think of the first time Minghao had ordered for you when he had taken you to the establishment – not bothering to glance at the menu.
He knew the meals by heart.
Was the pasta that you liked so much once hers?
"It's nothing, Hao." You shook your head, not wanting to further dig deep into the large wound.
"He didn't mean it."
"They never do."
"What's that supposed to mean?" His body shifted from under you, causing you to sit up and face him again.
"I– She'll always be around, it's okay." You shook your head. It was far too late in the night to start an argument, and you weren't in the mood to sleep without the warmth of his arms.
"We– you know she and I ended in good terms. I– I can't really tell them to not hang out with her."
He was right and that's what hurt the most.
Minghao did his part, he steered clear from her. Not once did he join his friends when they hung out with her, nor did he stay in contact with her.
Out of respect of you.
But despite all his efforts, and his reassurances – she still remained. Almost as if she had never left.
"I know." You nodded. "I– it's just my head."
"It's you that I chose to be with. It's you that I come home to."
Minghao was right yet again, but why did it still feel like it wasn't so.
Because if he did let go of her, pieces of her wouldn't remain in your shared apartment. He wouldn't smell like the scent she had picked out for him all those years ago.
He wouldn't take you to the places they once claimed to be theirs.
He would have started a brand new slate.
"Angel, I need you to know that I love you." Minghao spoke slowly, taking your hands in his.
You looked down at the cold metal that made contact with your skin – the Chrome Hearts ring she had gifted him their first year together.
Yet another reminder of her as he professed his so called love for you.
You had him, but never all of him. You were his angel, but never his god.
PERMANENT TAGLIST
@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
#sooooo uhhh how's everyone's day#let me know in the comments below dont forget to like and subscribe and see you guys in next weeks video!!!#pls dont kill me#minghao x reader#minghao angst#minghao x oc#minghao x you#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fic#seventeen imagines#seventeen minghao#xu minghao#xu minghao x reader#the8 x reader
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