𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You never thought love would happen for you. But then he changed your mind/𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!Minghao x reader/𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: kissing?/𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 597
𝐀𝐍: Happy birthday Alta @haologram!! Today is your special day and you deserve to know how amazing you are. I will not get mushy on main, but just know you are my little sister and I love you or whatever. Bye.
Love.
It’s a simple four-letter word that evokes deep feelings that profoundly impact people in significant ways—the love for family, friends, pets, and significant others. It makes you smile, gives you pride, and something to look forward to every day. For a long time, however, you didn’t think romantic love would happen for you. You’ve witnessed it with other people, thought it was nice, but it never resonated with you. You were okay with that, never being the one loved and not knowing what it’s like to be in it. You were content.
But then Minghao came along and changed your mind.
When you look at your boyfriend, you feel love. You feel what it’s like to love someone so much that it feels like your chest is about to cave. Being around him makes your soul smile, your heart sing, and you want to shout to the heavens about how happy he makes you. He understands your inquisitiveness, your dedication to your family, your tenacity for life, and how deeply you care for everyone around you. There is no second-guessing, insecurities, or dark clouds when you’re with him. He is the calm to your storm, and you couldn’t have asked for a better person to crack open your world and become your sun, moon, and stars.
You lie here on a blanket outside, your head on his lap as he plays with your hair. The air is just right, the leaves of fall carried in the wind while the birds chirp a melody that feels familiar and puts you in a good mood. Minghao planned a picnic for you with all your favorite foods, knowing you enjoy being outside and breathing in the fresh air. You’ve been working hard and you’ve been tired, and he knew a change of scenery was what you needed on your special day.
“You’re quiet.” He says, caressing your face with his delicate fingers. “Are you okay?”
You gaze at him, your eyes locked in with his beautiful brown eyes. “Yeah, I’m more than okay.”
He nods, his lips curving into that smile that you can never get enough of. You had a lot to say; you always have something to say. But today, you just wanted to sit in silence. He is your favorite person in the world, the one person you trust more than anyone, and there isn’t anyone who has loved as much as you love him.
If there were a heaven on Earth, it’s wherever he is.
“Thank you… For this,” you say, sitting up to face him. “I wanted some peace today, and you brought it.”
Minghao chuckles and pulls you into his arms, his familiar cologne putting you further at ease. “It’s the least I can do for you, baby. I have more things planned later.”
He leans in and kisses you, his soft lips melting you to the touch, igniting a fire inside of you that spreads warmth throughout your body. The kiss deepens, and for a while, everything disappears. The birds, the park you’re in, everything. It’s just you and him, wrapped in this perfect bubble that you’ve created.
When you finally pull away, breathless and smiling, you can’t help but feel grateful for having him in your life and for introducing you to this euphoric feeling of being in love.
“I love you, Hao.”
He smiles, pulling you close and kissing you on your forehead. He wasn’t a man of many words, but one thing you knew for certain was that he loved you, too.
thinking about f1 minghao crashing out on radio…. idk why… its burned in my mind…
crash and burn 📟 minghao x reader.
★ mercedes driver!minghao x reader ┆ word count: 1.8k ┆ includes: profanity, slight Trivia 承: Love reference. ┆ footnotes: oh, you are CRUEL for preying on my hyperfixation like this. how i ended up writing this much is anybody's guess.
For a moment, the entirety of Mercedes falls quiet.
You could hear a pin drop. The pit wall, the operations room, the garage. Deathly silent.
Xu Minghao never swore on the radio.
He could have. He’s certainly had his fair share of instances where a cuss or two would have been acceptable. The time he crashed into Williams’ Vernon on the final lap of the Australian Grand Prix, for example. Or the Singapore race where he ended up in the barriers after battling his teammate, Wonwoo, for podium position.
Minghao hadn’t cussed then. Everybody liked to joke that his face often did the talking for him— his expressions post-race landing him on the front page of every sports media outlet.
The Chinese racer was calm, cool, and collected under pressure. Critical without being cruel. Demanding without being demeaning.
And yet, today, in Monaco—
“Why do I have the penalty?” Minghao screeches, his voice crackling over the radio. “Hello?”
“You’re kidding!” Minghao downshifts aggressively as he rounds the next corner. The tires wail, the car jolts, and the telemetry lights up with data that makes the pit wall wince. “I stayed within the white line! You saw it, everyone saw it!”
The pit wall scrambles. Engineers replay the footage frame by frame, dissecting every pixel of the contentious corner. The commentators speculate wildly, cameras cutting to Minghao’s onboard view. Sky Sports plays the radio message on repeat, the words for fuck’s sake! echoing through living rooms worldwide.
But Minghao doesn't care about the broadcast. Doesn't care about the headlines already being written. His pulse hammers, hands locked around the steering wheel like a vice.
“Box this lap, Hao. Serve the penalty,” the team calls. “Then push. We can still fight for points.”
Minghao murmurs something incoherent, though it doesn’t take a genius to guess that it’s probably another curse. He lifts off the throttle, coasts through the last sector, and dives into the pit lane. The Mercedes crew swarms the car, stoic and efficient, every second ticking down with excruciating slowness.
The lollipop stays down.
Ten seconds feel like an eternity.
Minghao slams the throttle as soon as he’s released, launching back onto the track with a cloud of tire smoke.
“Gap to P10?” he demands, his tone unusually biting.
“7.3 seconds to Boo. But DRS is enabled—”
“I can catch him,” Minghao decides on his engineer’s behalf.
Nobody doubts it, really.
Minghao takes the next lap like a man possessed. Nailing apexes, brushing curbs, deploying battery in the perfect spots. Purple sector times flash on the screen; the crowd roars as he slices through the field like a scalpel.
Clean. Precise. Ruthless.
Minghao pushes right past Alpine’s Seungkwan, who screeches into his own radio about this reckless man, trying to kill him with the way he faked to the outside. It doesn’t matter to Minghao. Not when he’s through.
“P10, Hao,” his engineer says, relief bleeding into his voice. “Keep it up.”
“Don’t—” Minghao cuts himself off. Everybody can more or less guess what he was about to say. Don’t tell me what to do, he had planned to snap, and it only drives the team into a deeper state of confusion.
It’s even worse in the press room.
Minghao sits in the middle, flanked by Aston Martin’s Seokmin and Red Bull’s Jihoon. Minghao’s Mercedes suit is still speckled with sweat, and his jaw is tight, hands clasped in front of him on the table.
The moderator introduces them. “We’ll start with questions for the drivers. First, to Mercedes’ Xu Minghao. P9 after serving a 10-second penalty. Can you walk us through your race?”
A muscle in Minghao’s jaw ticks. Not a good sign.
Minghao leans into the microphone and very simply states, “It was bullshit.”
Again, that stunned silence. Seokmin balks like he had been physically struck. Jihoon fights back a grin.
The moderator blinks. “Uh,” she stammers. “Could you elaborate on that?”
“The penalty,” Minghao says plainly. “It was bullshit. I’ve seen the footage. I stayed within track limits. And even if I hadn’t, we both know there were other drivers exceeding limits all race who didn’t get penalized.”
A reporter from BBC Radio pipes up. “You’ve been known for keeping a cool head in difficult situations, but we heard your radio messages. Do you regret your reaction?”
The question draws a humorless laugh from Minghao. Today, his wit is razor-like in its sharpness. The claws are out, so to speak, as Minghao answers the query.
“Regret? No. I regret not pushing harder after the penalty. I lost ten seconds and still clawed my way back to points.” He pauses, letting the fact sink in. “What does that tell you?”
Somebody from Fox Sports pushes the envelope. “Are you implying bias in the stewarding?” the journalist calls out.
Minghao’s eyes flash, making even the most fearless of the media personnel shrink back a bit.
“I’m saying there needs to be consistency,” he hisses. “That’s all.”
Mercedes’ PR manager shifts uncomfortably in the background; one can assume they’re already drafting damage control statements in their head. The list of people to apologize to only grows when a ballsy ESPN journo dares to ask, “Do you think this will affect your relationship with the FIA?”
There’s no reason for the FIA— the Formula One’s governing body— to be dragged into this. Or maybe there is, with the way Minghao is crashing out in public.
The racer smiles coldly. “Maybe,” he answers, “but I’m not here to make friends.”
“Okay,” the moderator interjects. “I think it’s time for us to move on—”
Minghao concedes, leaning back into his chair and pushing the microphone over to Jihoon. There’s the slightest of miscalculations, though, when Minghao grumbles something to the Red Bull driver.
The microphone catches Minghao’s snide side comment, supposedly meant solely for Jihoon’s ears. “You should ask the FIA why they’re so scared of drivers who fight back,” the Chinese driver huffs.
The room explodes. Minghao doesn’t flinch.
Mercedes’ PR manager accepts that it’s going to be a long, long night.
Even Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for his co-driver’s uncharacteristic behavior. The driver frowns when the team principal brings it up.
Wonwoo runs a hand through his dark, sweat-slicked hair, as if reviewing what he witnessed pre- and post-race. “Hao was already a bit… off when he came in this morning,” Wonwoo admits. “Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something.”
“Drivers like Minghao don’t just wake up one morning and decide they’re going to be the devil reincarnated,” the team principal says tentatively.
Wonwoo takes a moment to contemplate. “Trouble in paradise, maybe?”
“Drivers like Minghao—”
“Don’t let their personal lives affect their racing,” Wonwoo finishes before waving his hand dismissively. “Well, I don’t know, then.”
Except— for once— Wonwoo is right.
The team doesn't press Minghao to celebrate, not when he’s a walking PR disaster in a foul mood. He heads straight back to his apartment, shedding all his rage on the way home.
It’s the only reason he manages to gently open the front door. He toes off his shoes at the doorway and shrugs off his hoodie, each action deliberate in its intent and slowness.
He finds you in the kitchen.
You’re seated at one of the bar stools, forearms leaning against the island. Minghao doesn’t come close. Not at first. He lingers a couple of steps away, stock still as the two of you lock gazes.
You open your mouth. Minghao beats you to the punch line.
“I know,” he says, his voice the most gentle it’s been the entire day. “Trust me, I know.”
“I wasn’t going to tell you off.”
Minghao lets out a derisive snort of laughter, though he’s quick to look chastised when he catches the shift in your expression. “Alright,” he says tiredly. “What were you going to say, then?”
You hop off the stool. Minghao holds his breath.
He still feels like he isn’t breathing by the time you’re standing right in front of him. Where others might hesitate, you don’t.
Your hand reaches up to cup Minghao’s face. Your palm is warm against his cheek, but your words are much warmer.
“I was going to apologize,” you say slowly, enunciating each word, “for breaking rule number three.”
Rule number three. To have it brought up now is comedic. Minghao thinks of the restaurant tissue framed in the living room, the one bearing the silly list the two of you had jotted down when you first started dating.
The very rule you’re referring to right now had been in Minghao’s loopy handwriting, underlined twice to emphasize its importance.
#3: No fights on race weekends.
It had come with an asterisk, a couple of caveats. Still, it was one of those ‘rules’ the two of you tried to see through the most. For not only Minghao’s sanity, but Mercedes’ as well.
Minghao sighs, the tension in his shoulders easing with the heavy exhale. He can’t help it; his cheek nuzzles into your palm, seeking the familiarity of your touch after being without it last night.
(That was his choice, admittedly, after he opted to sleep in the guest room instead of your shared bedroom. He left in the morning without all of his usual routines— his 30-minute guided meditation, his good luck kiss from you.)
The fight— God, what was the fight even about? Minghao is embarrassed to admit he can barely remember.
By the way you’re looking at him, though, it looks like you’re also ready to put it past the two of you.
“Did you watch?” he asks.
The corners of your lips twitch upward. “What’s the right answer?” you shoot back, half-teasing as Minghao’s arms gingerly wrap around your waist.
“I think I’d prefer that you say ‘no’,” he says wryly. “I was a monster out there. I’ve got so many people to apologize to.”
You give a low hum of approval. Minghao tugs you into his space until he can bury his face in the top of your head.
For a moment, the two of you bask in the aftermath. The bittersweet race, the shaky reconciliation. Minghao breaks the silence.
“I said fuck,” he mumbles, horrified, “on the radio.”
“You did,” you confirm. “Twice, actually.”
Minghao groans. “And at the press conference—”
“You told the FIA they could take it up their a—”
“I did not,” your boyfriend says shrilly, “say that!”
You break out into giggles. Minghao can’t help it; his arms tighten around you, and he holds you like he’s trying to erase the past 24 hours through touch alone.
Tomorrow, Minghao will be back to his usual self. He’ll play the PR game— waxing poetics about mental pressure, apologizing to the FIA for his conduct. He’ll pay the fines and promise to do better, be better.
Tonight, Minghao softens all his edges and loves you.
pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: (some) angst, fluff, comfort, drabble, idol!minghao, established relationship warning(s): mentions of eating, fainting word count: 0.8k
summary: minghao sends you some alarming texts in the middle of the night, and you’re left to speculate the abundance of reasons why he would have sent them.
a/n: inspired by 21:20 of this video with minghao and park myungsoo! the ‘mala story’ segment really fueled my delusions omg
xu baobei ♡ [21:23]: We need to talk.
xu baobei ♡ [21:24]: Call me when you see this.
Those two text messages glare at you every time you pick up your phone, waves of dread coursing through your body as you start speculating the reason as to why your boyfriend had sent the texts so out of the blue.
Is he angry at you? For what reason? Is he going to break up with you? For what reason? You don’t think you’ve done anything to upset him lately, so what could be the issue?
Countless thoughts are flooding your mind as you pace around the living room of your apartment, debating whether to call him or not. If he really wanted to break up with you, wouldn’t you be sending yourself to death’s door by calling him?
Sighing, you bite your lip and decide to text him instead.
you [22:12]: talk about what?
Almost immediately, your ringtone blares through the speakers of your phone, and you nearly drop the phone in shock. Sure enough, the caller ID reads your boyfriend’s contact name, and you sigh in dread, taking a seat on the couch and mentally preparing yourself for what’s about to come.
“Hello?” you say as soon as you pick up, your heart rate picking up.
“y/n,” Minghao replies, his voice stern yet soft, like he can’t bring himself to be fully angry at you.
There’s silence for a short while, and you feel like you’re going to explode any second.
“Are you…” you break the silence, nearly trembling, “are you breaking up with me?”
On the other end of the line, you hear something drop. “What? No, y/n, I’m not breaking up with you. What made you think that way?”
“You- you sounded really scary in your texts,” you mumble, internally relieved that your boyfriend isn’t planning on breaking up with you.
“Text messages don’t carry tone in them, silly,” Minghao chuckles.
“I heard you went to the hospital. From Mingyu,” Minghao pipes up after a moment of silence, and everything clicks in your head.
You had indeed been to the hospital the day before upon suddenly passing out while hanging out with Mingyu’s sister, who’d sent you to the emergency room immediately out of fear that something serious had happened to you. Thankfully, the reason why you’d passed out had been due to fatigue, and you subsequently begged her not to tell anyone about it, despite her objections.
You’re guessing that she had told Mingyu about it, which you don’t blame her for, and that’s how you’ve ended up in this situation now.
“I did,” you reply simply, looking down at your feet.
“Are you feeling better now? What happened?” Minghao asks immediately after your reply.
“I’m okay now, it wasn’t serious,” you assure your boyfriend, “The doctor said it was due to fatigue.”
“Are you not eating and sleeping well?” Minghao replies with yet another question, worry laced in his voice. “Should I move back in?”
You start to panic a little at the idea of Minghao coming back to live in your shared home, seeing as to how he had moved to the dorm temporarily to prepare for their upcoming comeback, quickly refuting, “It’s okay, Hao, I’m okay! I think I just skipped a few meals because of work, I’ll make sure to have my meals regularly!”
Minghao pauses, then hums in response, seemingly not satisfied with your answer.
“Why… didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there,” Minghao’s voice becomes softer, and you sense a bit of hurt in his tone, breaking your heart a little.
“I— I didn’t want to worry you, Hao,” you began, eyes downturned, “You have a concert and a comeback coming up that’s more important.”
“Nothing’s more important than you, y/n.” Minghao replies without missing a beat, catching you by surprise. “I’m your boyfriend, y/n, you can talk to me if anything happens. What if- what if something serious had happened, and I wasn’t there?”
Minghao’s vulnerable tone breaks your heart, and you frown at his words. Throughout your relationship, such a situation had never happened before, and thinking in his perspective, you completely understand why he’s upset, making you all the more upset at your actions.
“I know, Hao, I- I would want you to let me know if anything happened to you, too. I’m really sorry.” you apologise, wishing he were physically beside you so you could hug him.
Minghao sighs, clearly not wanting to escalate the issue for no reason. “It’s okay, darling, just let me know in the future, hm? I love you.”
“I will, Hao. I love you too,” you reply like it’s second nature, because it is.
A comfortable silence ensues for a while, the two of you at ease knowing that your hearts beat for each other despite the physical distance.
“Also, I’m moving back in. Comeback preparations are more or less done, anyway, and I believe making sure a certain someone eats regularly is much more important,” Minghao jests, and you hear some rustling in the background. “I’m on the way.”
You chuckle. You really don’t know what you did to deserve this man, but you know you won’t be letting him go anytime soon.
a/n 2: i’ve come to a realisation that i’m an absolute horror at writing endings LOL
taglist (send an ask to be tagged!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee
do you think you could write some bratty sub minghao? I feel like he’s totally a brat when he feels like it hehehe
bratty sub!minghao
WARNINGS: smut, sub!minghao x dom!reader, tit slap, orgasm denial, teasing, face riding oral [ f. receiving ], hair pulling.
in a dom side, he would be a hard dom. in contrast, if he were the opposite, he would be a hard sub bratty sub.
minghao’s the brattiest sub you’ve ever had to deal with, hands down. like, he’s not even trying to hide it—rolling his eyes, crossing his arms, letting out that annoying little huff every time you tell him to do something. you’d think he’s allergic to behaving. “yah... why do you always have to be so bossy?” he whines, dragging out the word as he looks at you like you’ve just personally ruined his life. his pouty lips are so damn pretty it’s hard not to kiss him.
“bossy?” you echo, quirking a brow. “hao, baby, you’re about five seconds away from finding out exactly what bossy looks like.”
his response? an eyeroll so dramatic it could rival a reality tv contestant’s. “whatever,” he mutters, flipping his hair. “like you’re gonna do anything about it~~”
oh. oh. challenge accepted.
next thing he knows, your hand’s in his hair, pulling hard enough to make his mouth drop open in a shocked little gasp. his eyes go wide, his bratty mask cracking just a little as you tug him closer.
“what was that?” you ask, your voice calm, but your grip firm. his breathing’s already shaky, and you can feel the tension in his body as he tries —and fails—not to react.
“n-nothing,” he stammers, the slightest tremble in his voice. but he’s still got that glint in his eye, that little spark of disobedience that drives you crazy.
“nothing, huh?” you hum, tilting your head as you study him. “then why are you squirming so much, baby? can’t handle a little discipline?”
he scoffs, but it’s weak, barely holding up under your gaze. “i’m not squirming,” he mutters embarassed.
“oh, really?” you let go of his hair, only to deliver a sharp slap to his nipple. the sound echoes through the room, and he yelps, his body jerking instinctively.
“what the hell—” he starts, but you cut him off with another slap, this time to the other nipple, making him hiccup silently.
“what was that, hao? you were saying something?”
he’s blushing now, his cheeks a furious pink as he glares at you. but he doesn’t say a word, just bites his lip and looks away, his bratty confidence shaken.
“thought so,” you say, smirking as you trail your fingers over his heated skin. “maybe this’ll teach you some manners.”
but, of course, minghao being minghao, he can’t let it go. “you’re so mean.”
“mean?” you laugh, leaning down until your face is inches from his. “oh, baby, i haven’t even started being mean yet.”
and then comes the real punishment—your hand sliding down between his legs, teasing him by playing with the shiny pre cum on his cock head, just enough to make him whimper, but not giving him anything more.
“please,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he looks up at you with wide, pleading eyes.
“please, what?” you ask, feigning innocence as you pull back just enough to leave him on the edge.
“please, i... i need—” he cuts himself off, his face turning even redder.
“you need what, hao?” you press, your smirk widening as he squirms beneath you. “use your words.”
he groans, his head falling back as he tugs at the restraints holding his wrists now. “i need to cum,” he finally admits.
“aw, that’s too bad,” you say, your tone almost pitying as you pull your hand away completely. “because brats don’t get to come.” you’re already shedding your clothes when minghao, with his clever little smirk, pipes up from his spot on the bed. “so… are you gonna let me eat you out?”
he’s always watching you with those sharp, scheming eyes, already trying to figure out your next move. always too smart for his own good. you don’t answer, just slide your top over your head and toss it aside. his gaze drops to your bare skin, and you can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows hard.
“oh, come on,” he presses. “don’t leave me hanging here. you’re just gonna ignore me?”
you bite back a smirk, taking your sweet time with the rest of your clothes. minghao shifts on the bed, his fingers twitching like he’s dying to touch you but knows better than to try.
“you’re so quiet all of a sudden,” he says, trying to look cool, butedning up sound more desperate than ever.
you step out of the last piece of clothing, completely bare now, and climb onto the bed. minghao’s breath hitches, his lips parting as he watches you crawl over him. you roll your eyes, settling yourself over him, your knees bracketing his head. his smirk fades instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unfiltered need.
“oh, you’re… you’re gonna—”
you lower yourself onto his face, cutting him off, and his reaction is immediate—his tongue darts out to meet you as he closes his eyes.
“that’s right,” you murmur, grinding lightly against him, your breath hitching as his nose bumps against your clit.
his response is muffled, but you can feel the way his tongue works, desperate and eager, trying to please you. “you’re lucky,” you coo. “i treat you so well, give you everything you need… and how do you repay me?”
minghao groans against you, his tongue faltering for a second before redoubling its efforts. you can feel the frustration radiating off him, but he doesn’t stop—not for a second.
“you don’t respect me,” you continue. “you’re such a little brat, hao. always testing me, always pushing.”
his tongue moves faster now, llike he’s trying to prove you wrong. you can feel him shaking beneath you, putting everything he has into pleasing you.
“there you go,” you murmur, tilting your head back as you feel yourself dripping more and more with every lick. “put in some effort for once.”
you’re close, so close, and minghao knows it—his tongue working overtime, his moans vibrating against you.
but just as you’re about to cum in his mouth, you lift yourself off him. his mouth follows instinctively, his tongue flicking out into empty air as he lets out a pitiful whine.
“no, no, no,” he pleads, his voice cracking as he tries to pull you back down by rubbing his chin on your inner thigh. “please, i was—i was doing good—”
you laugh cruel, watching as he squirms beneath you. “oh, baby,” you say, brushing your fingers through his damp hair. “you really thought i was gonna let you have it?”
For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. It’s a little chilly–autumn finally has the early October nights in its clutches–but you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.
Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. “You’re quite cozy out here,” he notes, settling down into the space beside you. “I brought you some tea.”
You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. “You lasted far longer in there than I expected.”
“They’re so loud,” he whines, a pained look crossing his face.
“You love them.”
Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwan’s voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say ‘see?’
You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.
Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.
“We should get one of these for the balcony.” Hao’s voice is soft, and when you look up, he’s staring into the fire.
“Add it to the list.”
And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. It’s not the right time for either of you–he’s busy and your lease is nowhere near up–but the promise of more keeps you going.
The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoung’s voice punches out into the night. “Minghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.”
Hao shoots you a pointed look. “Loud,” he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear.
You giggle. “Go in and spend time with your friends.” You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.”
“Minghao!” Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell he’s taken a step outside toward the two of you.
Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. “I will give you 5 million won to forget my name,” he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler.
The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know he’s not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but you’re always happy to be here when it gets too much. You’ll never tire of being his refuge.
minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?
on the twelfth day of christmas, my true love gave to me—
—minghao is exasperated with your choice in sundaes.
—established relationship, fluff
—wc: 0.7k (haha)
a/n: i was visited by a ghost one night and the next morning i sent out a google form to do maximum fanservice. this is for the friends i have made on caratblr, the place that has given the most joy in this past year (annus horribilis but we do not talk about it) and this is my way of giving back to the community that has made me feel so safe and loved. this is part 1/13, and who better to write the first one for than alta @haologram, who has become one of my closest friends on the desolate landscape of caratblr. thank you alta, for listening to me always, for being there when i needed you, for being the one who inspires the muse, and for showing me a different perspective, always. i hope we are friends for a long time <3
check out the masterlist!
“Is this the right order?”
Minghao stares at you, setting down the large ice cream sundae on the table, looking dubiously at it. He's gotten the order correct, strawberry sundae with too many sprinkles to count. He’s staring at it like he’s trying to figure out the secret of the universe through the sundae.
You snicker, “trying to figure something out, Hao?”
He narrows his eyes, “I’m trying to see why anyone would order that. It would spike my sugar levels.”
“Because it makes people happy,” you say, grinning at him, “seriously, Minghao, you’ve never had a chocolate sundae before?”
“No, it’s not that,” he looks at it dubiously, “I’m just considering how it’s going to taste. All those textures and flavors, they cannot be good for my digestive system. I’m going to have to work out for an extra hour just to burn off the calories.”
You shake your head, “come on, Hao, you need to live a little. You won’t get sick or lose your entire exercise routine just because you ate a small sundae.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed, “small.”
You smile, “tiny, in fact. This is the smallest ice cream sundae ever made in the history of ice cream sundaes.”
He laughs, snickering loud enough for the people seated at another table to notice the two of you, “I think it weighed half a kilogram. I’m pretty sure the barista was looking at me and thinking ‘who the hell is this man’, until he saw it was for two people.”
“Pretty sure the barista did not give a shit,” you reply, still smiling, “they are not paid enough to care.”
Minghao says nothing, just looks straight ahead, "Christmas is coming soon, huh?”
“It is,” you look around, eyes running over the multitude of lights and Christmas-themed decorations that have been hung up all around the store, “it looks like the three wise men threw up in here.”
“Maybe they did,” Minhao snorts, “do you ever think about how Christmas has been endlessly commercialised, or is it just me?”
“Maybe it has been,” you counter, “but when else would I get this wonderful strawberry sundae or half-off, if not during Christmas?”
“It’s half-off?” he looks properly horrified now, “this sundae is half-off? And still it costs this much?”
“The wonders of capitalism, my love,” you reply, before tucking into it, “let’s enjoy this before it melts into a sad puddle. Then I would have to consume strawberry soup, and I can assure you, it would not taste very nice.”
The sundae is fine; it’s nothing revolutionary, but still tastes good enough that you have no complaints regarding the price you’ve paid for it. Before long, the sundae is consumed, and the two of you stand up to walk out of the shop and into the biting cold.
Minghao sidles up closer to you when the door to the shop closes behind the two of you, slipping his hand into yours and gripping it tightly. You smile to yourself. He’s always been clingy, even if he refused to show it openly, which made these rare displays of affection all the more worth it. Minghao senses your amusement, but doesn’t comment on it.
It’s shaping up to be a white Christmas, you think, looking at the snowflakes that drift lazily around the two of you, a white christmas indeed.
“You look mighty pleased with yourself,” Minghao comments dryly, even as you grin cheekily, “what’s on your mind?”
“I keep thinking about something,” you reply, holding his hand tighter, “just that, nothing else.”
Minghao pauses for a moment, “is it about Christmas? Are you thinking about what we’re going to do on Christmas?”
“Maybe,” you say, “but what’s more interesting is that you’ve been holding my hand in public for the last ten minutes without stopping.”
Minghao stares at your joined hands, “this is what’s got you grinning like a cat that got the cream?”
“Yes,” you nod, “I feel very accomplished, really. Getting my usually reticent boyfriend to hold my hand in public when he’s too shy to even look at me—well, that’s something to write home about.”
Minghao sighs. “You’re really very annoying, you know.”
“You love me.”
He sighs, but smiles, “yes, that’s true, I love you.”
Minghao’s looking at you like you’re the best thing to happen to him, and when he leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, you can’t help but feel that the prospect of a white christmas pales in comparison to the idea of spending the rest of your christmases with Minghao.
♡ pairing: minghao x fem!reader
♡ w.c.: 1.5k
♡ genre: fluff + smut
♡ warnings: alcohol consumption, reader and hao get a little tipsy, car sex, blowjob
♡ summary: You + minghao + wine tasting = chaos and perhaps a surprise proposal, that has you craving him more than ever.
♡ a/n: hoho surprise i've come out of my writing trenches to produce this! happy (very) belated valentines @hoeforhao, it was so fun being your secret valentine! i had so many issues with reception and not being able to post this so i really hope you like it! this fic is part of @svthub valentine collaboration!
“So, where is this winery?”
“It’s somewhere about 50 minutes away from here…I haven't been to this one before, so I’m excited to see what they have in store, especially since they’ve got a cute little setup for Valentine's Day right now,” Minghao said. His eyes sparkled as he entered the address in the GPS and buckled his seatbelt. You smile at his excitement, buckling your seatbelt and preparing for the drive.
You make small talk with your boyfriend as he drives the long roads, watching as the city lights fade into the distance and are instead replaced with farm animals, houses on big blocks of land and the occasional roadside stall selling flowers, fruits and vegetables.
As you approach the winery, you sit up in your seat excitedly and let your gaze wander over the large fields of grape vines, the large ranch-style home that definitely could've passed as a mansion, and the small crowds of people gathered around wine barrels, sipping on various wines.
Minghao shares your excitement and jumps out of the car quickly after parking in a secluded area of the car park, hidden by trees, and running around to open your door like the gentleman he is. His face gleams with excitement, and he grips your hand tightly as he walks you both up to the iron-clad bars of the winery.
It didn’t take long for you and Minghao to be seated, and you quickly began testing the various wines they offered you both, as well as snacking on a small charcuterie board with cheeses and processed meats. The sweet and tangy notes danced on your tongue, and within only an hour or two, your head was beginning to feel light and your body feeling like jelly.
With the timing seeming perfect, he decides now to pull out the small, black velvet box from his jeans pocket and get off his chair onto one knee beside you. It takes you a moment to notice his appearance at your side, and that’s when the tears start flowing. He hadn't even opened his mouth to say anything yet, but you were already bending down to kiss him.
“I know you already know what I’m going to say, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Also, I know it’s cheesy to propose on Valentine's Day, but will you marry me?”
You nod and wipe your tears away, not trusting your voice to break or sound like a pre-pubescent teenager. A huge grin erupts on his face, and he quickly stands up to place the ring on your finger before kissing you on the forehead. With the proposal now completed, a waiter brings out another bottle of wine, which seems much more expensive than any of the other wines brought out for you to taste.
But what the hell, you just got engaged. Who cares how expensive it is
Minghao notices how the alcohol is beginning to affect you and opts to take you home to avoid any embarrassing stories that may be told later. He is feeling a slight buzz himself but definitely is better off than you currently are, so he chucks a couple of crisp bills on the table to cover the bill and slings an arm around your waist to get you outside.
“Y-you’re so pretty, Hao,” you stutter, your fingers tracing his features despite him attempting to walk you back to the car. He can't help but lean into your touch, your warm fingertips sending goosebumps erupting all over his skin, almost making him lose focus.
He manages to get you into the car and get your seatbelt on; all the while, you’re drunkenly slurring about how handsome he is. It makes his heart swell at the words and sight of you, eyes sparkling and cheeks flush from the alcohol, but he knows that he probably is in a similar state. He knows he’s in no condition to drive just yet, so instead, he hops into the driver's seat and blasts the air conditioner to sober himself up a little, hopefully.
What Minghao isn't expecting, however, is a hand to begin sliding up his thigh, squeezing gently in the process. He turns to look at you, confusion slipping onto his features. Your eyes are glazed over, and there’s a slight smirk presenting on your features, which in turn makes his breath catch in his throat, his heart begins to race and his cock twitches.
“Sweetheart, you’re not in your right mind now; what are you doing?” His voice quivers as you slide your hand up further on his thigh, your fingertips ghosting over his quickly hardening erection. Your smirk only grows as you feel his erection twitch and continue to harden with your subtle touches and hear his breathing get increasingly heavy.
“You know what I’m doing, just having some fun! Don’t you want this too?” There’s a slight slur in your voice from the alcohol you’ve consumed, but even with the alcohol in your body making you feel warm, you can feel your panties beginning to stick to you, and the lust overwhelms your body.
“Of course I do-”
“Then let me suck you off, Hao, please?” He groans and lets himself give in to your sultry request, his hands blindly fumbling with the zip on his jeans and hastily pulling them off his hips and halfway down his thighs, his boxers following quickly after, and his cock springing up and slapping against his shirt.
You waste no time bending over the centre console, wrapping a hand around his base, and letting your lips envelop the tip. While it’s not the most straightforward position to suck your boyfriend off in, the noises he’s making make up for all of that, and you focus solely on him. With each bob of your head, his noises get louder and louder until he’s pulling you off him and staring at you adoringly.
“I don’t want to cum in your mouth, baby; I want to cum inside of you…” his voice trails off as he pats his pockets, seemingly looking for something. His brows furrow in frustration as he continues to search but sighs when he gives up a few moments later.
“I thought I had some condoms, but I must've left them at home,” he mutters, his hand stroking your thigh soothingly. Your eyes brighten at his words before you rummage through your bag and pull out some foiled packets. Minghao laughs loudly at the realisation that you’ve brought some condoms for him, picking one up between two fingers to inspect it.
“What about strawberry or chocolate-flavoured condoms instead?” You suggest, a hint of playfulness sparkling in your eyes as Minghao picks up one of the condoms from your outstretched palm. He hurriedly slides the condom down his cock, before proceeding to shuffle awkwardly into the backseat of the car, beckoning you to follow him with a crook of his finger.
“Come sit on my cock, baby; no one's gonna see,” he smirks as you shuffle into the backseat, lifting your skirt so that he has full access to you. He licks his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt hovering above his aching cock, twitching at how warm and wet you’re going to feel around him.
You waste no time sinking onto him, his length stretching you out perfectly. A soft whine escapes you as you let yourself relax onto him, a guttural moan leaving Minghao’s lips at your warm cunt surrounding him. It takes a few moments to adjust to his size, and he grips your hips soothingly until you’re ready.
As soon as you feel comfortable, you begin raising your hips slowly and then rhythmically lowering them. The pace continues for a while, your moans mingling with Minghao’s until he finally reaches up and messily plants his lips onto yours, his tongue intertwining with your own.
“F-fuck…feels so good,” you whine out, desperately trying to catch your breath and feeling the burn between your thighs from the repetitive bouncing. Minghao grins and places a thumb on your clit, and the way you writhe in his lap and whine even louder with the added stimulation has his cock twitching again, and the pit in his stomach begins to grow warmer and warmer, as does yours.
“Gonna cum, fuck, cum with me, baby,” Minghao rasps out, the grip on your hips tightening significantly, and his hips are starting to have a mind of their own. In an attempt to get him over the line quicker, you grind your hips down and let them do most of the work to bring him over the edge with a loud groan.
Just as soon as he’s cum and is in the state of post-orgasmic bliss, you fall head first into it as well, body seizing as your body gets sent through the orgasmic waves. All you can hear is both yours and Minghao’s heavy breathing intertwining, and you can feel his fingers drawing soothing pictures onto the flesh of your back.
“Should we go back home and get cleaned up?”
“That sounds great; the car is beginning to smell like sex and sweat anyway.”
“You’re not even gonna have a conversation with me? Do you dislike me that much?”
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