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efingart · 2 months

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Just What I Needed - Chapter 25

Word Count: 5043

Frank Woods x CoD Bell

Frank and Mila go on something that looks a lot like a date, but it isn't a date.

The plastic groaned in protest as Mila pressed the speaker closer to her ear. The record store fell away as the synth beat took hold of her. It was unlike any music she had ever heard. She could become lost in it. She was used to holding in her feelings, not giving away much that was on her mind. But the sound inexplicably made her want to move.

But how would anyone dance to this?

Mila’s eyes flicked up to the woman behind the counter. She was the one who had set up the tape player for her to listen. The counter was much higher than the floor, likely so she could quickly spot if anyone was pocketing one of the tiny cassette tapes. But for the most part, the woman looked bored. She flipped through some kind of booklet. Like a magazine, but there was a homemade quality to it—splotched black ink across its neon paper cover. The title hand written in black permanent marker. The woman tossed her head to get her pink-streaked bangs out of her eyes before ducking her head back down to read. The pink-streaked bangs fell back into her face.

Mila felt tension on one side of the headphones, drawing her gaze away from the woman. Frank tugged on one of the speakers, pulling it away and leaning into her, turning the speaker towards his own ear to listen.

“You like this?” He asked. His voice was loud as he tried to talk over the music thrumming in his ear. He listened for another moment before turning the speaker back around.

She pulled the headphones off and let them dangle from her neck.

“Yeah. You said I should pick something happier. Can’t get happier than that.”

Frank’s eyes traveled over her face, then he shrugged and turned to the woman behind the counter.

“This one, too,” He said. She didn’t respond, not even a nod. Still, she popped the tape out of the player, putting it back in its jewel case and adding it to the stack of music Mila had already accumulated.

“Anything else?” Frank asked Mila.

She shook her head and neatly placed the headphones on top of the tape player, then pushed the player towards the woman.

He dug into his back pocket for his wallet. Then, he shifted his attention to something behind the woman.

“One of those, too,” He said, pointing to a box on the wall behind her. In her bored way, she turned to the wall, picked up the box, and held it up to verify that it was what he wanted. He gave her a nod, and she began to ring up the items.

“Come with batteries?” He asked her as he studied the box. She shook her head. He sighed. “Course not.”

Mila watched this exchange with some curiosity. She couldn’t quite read the box, and the product name wasn’t giving anything away—something to do with walking. Frank counted out the bills and change, and the woman bagged their purchases.

“All right, come on,” He said, throwing an arm over her shoulder as he guided her out of the store. “Gotta make another stop.”

He pointed to a camera store across the street. In the wide front window, there was a large cardboard display. As they approached, Mila realized it resembled a camera. But not like one she had ever seen. There was a lens and a viewfinder, but the camera's base was long and flat. The design of it was so clunky she couldn’t understand why anyone would want to carry it around. Someone had cut a large slit across the base, and a flat sheet of cardboard with a photograph on it repeatedly slid in and out of the base.

Maybe it was advertising a new kind of development process?

But as she scanned the display she saw that the large camera was surrounded by boxes of the real thing.

She turned to ask Frank about them when she heard a click and a whirring sound. A man was standing in the shop doorway, one of the strange cameras in his hand.

“Just got the brand new model in today. Come in and take a look.”

Having a business owner so invested in speaking to them was odd. But the camera shop likely got its fair share of tourists, which may have motivated him to be friendlier. He handed her the paper that had come out of the camera.

She stared at it and turned it over—blank white on one side and black on the other. However, something was happening on the front of the paper. A splotch of brownish yellow was slowly developing.

“You’ve never seen an instant film camera before?”

She shook her head and tried to hand the paper back to the man, but he waved her off. “It’s yours, keep it.”

Frank interrupted their exchange and asked the man, “You got any batteries?”

The man led him into the small store. Mila stayed outside, watching the display continue its methodical movements.

After a moment, Frank stepped out again and dropped a pack of batteries into the paper bag.

“How’d it turn out?” He asked her, nodding towards the paper in her hand.

She looked down, and to her surprise, she was now holding a photo of her and Frank looking at the display.

“What-”

“Instant film, don’t ask me how it works. Em’s got one of those. She’s constantly taking pictures,” He said, shaking his head. “I’ve gotta have about a hundred of me holding David for the first time. I’ll show you.”

“Instant film,” She repeated and looked longingly at the display. She’d love to have a camera like that. She had enjoyed taking and developing pictures for the various missions the CIA had sent her on. And with her memory, it would be nice to have some kind of physical evidence of her life besides that old photo Frank had found. Feeling Frank’s eyes on her, she blinked and turned away from the display. The nice thing about Frank is that he never asked too many questions. He seemed to know that if she wanted to talk, she’d talk. He plucked the picture from her hands and tucked it into his front shirt pocket, giving the pocket a little pat.

“For safekeeping,” He said. Then he threw his arm back in a wave, gesturing her to keep it moving. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

“Burger Town?” She joked.

“You know I’ll never say no to that. One of these days, we gotta take you somewhere nice, I guess.”

“Not today,” She said.

He chuckled, “Not today.”

They sat at one of the outdoor tables in the sun. She couldn’t remember the last time she spent so much time in the sun. The bag of food was between them, and she watched him reach into it to pull out a burger. His knuckles were turning red, and a smattering of freckles had appeared on his hands. She hadn’t realized he freckled in the sun, but it made sense with his complexion. It gave her a warm feeling just to know something more about him. Something that wasn’t related to his job or military life.

Frank Woods freckles in the sun.

She cataloged the information away in her mind.

Mila reached into the bag for her burger and placed it on the table before her. Then she carefully peeled the wrapper away, smoothing it out on the table and creating a placemat for herself. She thought she heard Frank let out a soft chuckle, but when she glanced up, his soft gaze was focused behind her as he chewed his burger. Mila picked up her burger and was about to eat when a thought occurred to her.

“What’s that thing you bought? That needed batteries?” She asked, nodding towards the paper bag set next to him on the bench.

He held up a finger and reached for his drink as he chewed. Grasping the drink by the lid, two fingers on either side of the straw, he took a long sip. Then, he set his burger and the drink down and wiped his hands off in his jeans before he opened the bag.

“I figured if you’re gonna have your own music, maybe you don’t want to be tied to the stereo in the living room,” He said. Then, while looking at her pointedly, he added, “You can use the stereo in the living room anytime you want, though.”

When he said that, her eyes moved from the bag next to him to his face. Frank seemed to notice everything. Or maybe he had recognized one of his own habits in her. He knew she was trying to leave the smallest footprint in their apartment. A strategy she employed in the hopes that if he never felt like she was in the way, then her place there was safe. She shifted in her seat, somewhat uncomfortable with the feeling of being so seen by someone else. There was something else, too: comfort.

She ignored it and instead turned her focus back to Frank, who was moving his burger aside so he could place the box in front of him. He pulled out a pocket knife to break open the thick tape, holding the box shut. Then he opened the flap and grabbed hold of what was inside while tipping the box so that gravity would help him ease its contents out.

Inside was a smaller black box surrounded by styrofoam packaging and a small pair of black over-ear headphones. Frank flipped the styrofoam over onto his hand. He tossed the packaging back in the paper bag and dusted off the smaller black box. She could see it was made of heavy plastic. There were buttons on the top. Frank reached back into the paper bag, feeling around momentarily, before producing the pack of batteries. He popped off a panel in the back and put in four batteries. Then he took out one of the cassette tapes, popped its case open, and slipped it into a slot in the front of the box.

He plugged the headphones into the box and handed them to her.

“You can listen anywhere now.”

She put the headphones on. The sound wasn’t as good as in the record store or at the apartment, but it was nice to be able to listen anywhere. She noted he had put in the tape he recommended, Pat Benatar.

You’ll like this one, he had said at the store.

And he was right. She took a bite of her hamburger as she listened. She knew she could definitely enjoy listening while in her room at night. And maybe even between sessions.

“Like it?”

She nodded.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He waved his hand, dismissing her comment.

“You might as well have some music wherever you want it.”

He stopped the tape.

“Thing drains batteries, though, I’ve got more for you, but just know that.”

She nodded again and removed the headphones. Frank gathered everything up and placed it in the bag.

“So what’s next?”

“I have an idea or two.”

Mila tilted her head curiously at him, but he didn’t elaborate.

Frank seemed to have his destination in mind, but occasionally, he would take them one way and have to backtrack. Then, he’d check the street name and head in the opposite direction. The place he was looking for must have been tucked away. Mila didn’t mind so much. It was good to be out and walking in the city. It had been some time since she had just walked around without purpose or hurry. She glanced around at the other people around them. This is what they did. She had yet to conjure up something more mundane from her adult or teenage years. Always running and fighting. Not being able to show her face in her home country meant long strolls in the park were risky. She had vague memories of spending time in what looked like East Berlin. But had the sense she was still traveling by night, working.

“There,” Frank said in a low voice.

He led her down a narrow side street. On the corner was a small building. Garage-style doors had been installed on either side and now, on this pretty day, they were flung up. She could clearly see the entire establishment from front to back.

She stopped.

“It looks like-”

“Yeah,” Frank said. Then he shrugged. “I kinda got the feeling you wanted to look around that place. And I know you like computers.”

He scratched the back of his head, suddenly seeming uncomfortable.

“Well, these are kind of like computers,” He added.

She nodded, and they walked into the arcade. Inside, the sounds, which were tinny and muted on the street, completely filled the space. The room itself was kept dim, lit by the sunlight outside and the glow of the screen on each machine. Every cabinet was painted with brightly colored characters. As she looked at the displays, she realized that these were what the players were supposed to imagine the tiny pixelated characters to be. Again, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Being in the arcade brought back memories of the fake American town, and she wondered if small towns in America really did look like that. Many small towns in the movies she watched looked similar as well. The cinema, Burger Town, and arcade all together around a tiny town square. She knew it would be unlikely she’d ever get to see a place like that. Unlikely, she’d ever leave West Berlin, unless they were shipping her off to some prison to lock her away forever.

Mila pushed the thoughts from her mind and approached a free cabinet. She watched the looping demo of what must have been a car racing along a track that never seemed to end. Several cars whizzed by the player's car until one crashed into it. A computerized grinding sound filled her ears. The screen went black.

“You ever play one of these?” Mila asked Frank.

He shook his head.

“Heard it rots your brain or something,” He joked. “Come on, let’s go get some tokens.”

As they waited in line, he pointed to a game that involved a sloped wooden track with numbered holes at the top.

“Now that’s more my speed. Skee-ball.” When he was met with her blank stare, he clarified, “It’s like bowling. You do know bowling, right?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll show ya.”

Then he turned his attention to the man behind the counter. Frank handed over a few bills to exchange for tokens.

He was spending so much money on her today. She felt uncomfortable unable to contribute. Of course, no one would give her money, nothing that she could potentially use to escape.

Not that she had anywhere to go. Beyond the walled city was a dangerous place for her. Outside the city was Soviet-controlled Germany. Even if she attempted to leave through the subway tunnels as she and Adler once had, she was an enemy of the state. Sure, they had thought she was dead, but likely that had been proven wrong when her face showed up all over the KGB cameras as soon as someone had reviewed the footage. And hey, why is a dead woman working with Russell Adler anyway?

If caught, the KGB would make sure she was dead this time, but not after grilling her for all the information she had about the CIA. Or if Perseus got hold of her again. The blonde- Ivanova went to great lengths to ensure she could hold her and torture her freely. She was sure the entire organization wanted her head for what she did in Solovestky.

“Hey,” Frank nudged her. The collection of dull coins jingled as he moved them from one hand to the other. “So, what do you want to play?”

She walked around studying each machine. The arcade wasn’t busy, so she could get a good look at the games.

One in particular caught her eye. It was one she recognized from the fake America town.

She approached the cabinet and watched the preview play before her of a small character dressed in green jumping over black blocks on the ground. She realized that the blocks were meant to be open spaces through which the player could fall. After watching the demo play, Frank handed her a coin, and she started up the game. He tucked his hand in his jeans pocket and deposited the remaining tokens.

“Got plenty of ‘em, so you can try all of the machines if you want,” He said, patting his pocket, causing the coins to jingle again.

She smiled at him and then directed her focus back to the machine. She bent down to deposit the token, and the music on the cabinet changed.

Frank leaned an arm over the cabinet and watched her play. It took her a moment to learn the controls. Her character died a few times, but it was easy to identify the gameplay patterns after that.

“Hey, you’re not bad at this,” Frank said.

She shrugged.

Then she made a silly mistake, and the timer ran out on the game. She managed to convince Frank to play a round himself. They spent much of the afternoon at the arcade. Occasionally, they’d find a game they could play together. Boxing was entertaining because Frank would tell her about his brief experience as an amateur boxer as a teenager. Though with some of the stories, he’d end up distracting himself enough in the retelling that she could get several punches in at once.

After losing another round of boxing, Frank yawned and checked his watch.

“Getting late, we should head out. I wanted to get some things at the grocery store anyway,” Frank said. Then added, “Someone keeps complaining we don’t have any good food.”

“We don’t!” She said, following him out the door. He stopped short at a cabinet where a group of kids were gathered and rooted through his pockets for the remaining tokens. Then he dumped them into the hands of a girl standing on the outskirts of the group.

It was dark when they returned to the apartment, each holding one grocery bag.

She placed her bag on the counter and unpacked it, putting pantry items away as Frank stocked the fridge.

“Should I make us something?” She asked.

“Nah, I got an idea for us,” He said but didn’t elaborate. Mila wasn’t sure what to make of the smile that slowly crept across his face either.

“You, cooking?” She teased him.

“Hey, I can cook some things,” He said, feigning offense.

Mila chuckled. She wasn’t about to insult him if he was willing to make dinner for them. And she was a bit curious about what Frank would cook up. She leaned against the counter to watch him work.

“Let me know if you need me to do anything.”

“I got it. You gotta be tired after today anyway.”

He was right; she was exhausted, and she yawned as if on cue. She stretched her arms over her head and let out another long yawn. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the message indicator on the answering machine was lit.

“Oh hey, Frank, you’ve got a message,” She said.

“Hit play for me, will ya?”

She depressed the button, and the tape on the machine whirred to life.

“Woods-”

Mila recognized the voice immediately.

“Is that Sims?”

“Shh-” Frank hushed her.

“- in town, and I’ve got some ideas for you. Well, for Bell. Come by tomorrow.”

The tape stopped, and the machine beeped. Frank continued his work without explanation. He had pulled out a fat tomato and was in the process of cutting it into slices. Mila watched him, waiting to see if he would elaborate.

When he didn’t, she asked him, “What was that about?”

Frank’s back straightened, and he cleared his throat before answering.

“Sims-” He paused, “He’s gonna help us.”

She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from interrupting. She could tell Frank had more to say, but why was he taking so long to say it? He placed the knife on the cutting board but kept his other hand around the tomato as he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m not letting them drug you anymore, Mila,” He said firmly.

She hadn’t been expecting that. In fact, she wasn’t sure she understood him clearly.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I told them. All of them. They need to figure something else out.”

Frank turned back to the tomato and finished slicing. He moved the slices to a plate.

“All of them,” She repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Park, Hudson, and Adler. All of them,” He said as he opened the fridge and pulled out a pack of bacon wrapped in butcher paper. He placed it on the counter. Frank then sprinkled some water on the pan, and it sizzled.

“Nice and hot,” He said quietly.

It was surreal watching him work. The conversation and the actions were incongruent. Frank was just making her dinner and casually telling her her entire life was about to change. That he- Frank Woods- of all people had made a decision about her life without talking to her about it.

This couldn’t be happening. Frank couldn’t do this to her.

Mila rubbed her forehead.

“Is that why you-” She stopped. She didn’t want to think that Frank took her out today to soften the blow of what would happen tomorrow. Mila ripped her hand away from her forehead and slammed her fist on the countertop.

Frank had just been about to place a slice of bacon in the pan, but he stopped and stared at her.

“Frank, if they’re not drugging me-” Mila started. She shook her head. The kitchen was a blur. She couldn’t make eye contact with him. She didn’t want to face the reality of it.

“If I’m not useful to them-” She tried again.

No, no, don’t say it.

“We almost lost you-” Frank said, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Frank!” She interrupted, “This is my life. And you’re what, just making decisions for me?”

“What do you want me to do?” He said. He tossed the bacon back on the butcher paper. It made a wet slapping sound when it hit the paper.

“You were gone. You didn’t see you. Lost in your head. It’s the fucking drugs, Mila. You want me just to step aside and let them do that to you?”

“I told you that’s what I was good for,” She said.

“So you think you deserve this?”

She said nothing to him then. The answer was obvious to both of them. He stepped towards the sink and washed his hands. As he dried them, he turned back toward her.

“Sometimes I think you’d rather lose your mind,” Frank said sadly. He tossed the towel on the counter before reaching out for her, but she slapped his hand away.

“Mila-”

“Controlling my life. Just like Adler.”

“Hey!” He raised his voice then.

It wasn’t fair. She knew she wasn’t being fair. Frank wasn’t Adler. But the roaring in her head wouldn’t stop. She stepped away from him and swung around, heading to her room.

She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to hear his reasoning. He was probably right, but the prospect of it not working, of her being imprisoned forever. She’d rather be dead. Because it would be forever. Held in solitary confinement with no hope of ever leaving.

She changed into her t-shirt, leaving her day clothes on the floor.

On her bed was the bag from the music store. Frank must have put it in here for her. She placed her headphones over her ears and popped a tape in. Somber music did its best to drown out the sounds of Frank cooking in the kitchen.

And eventually, she fell asleep.

She had a dream of meeting a man in a bar. He was a stranger to her, but they sat and talked as if they were old friends. After exchanging pleasantries, she leaned closer to him.

“Please. Frank Woods. It must be him.”

“Why?”

“Because I believe he is a good man. I believe he will understand.”

Mila woke up hungry. She was no stranger to the feeling, but somehow, paradoxically, it was harder to ignore now that she was getting food regularly. Easier to let the feeling fade into the background and have sleep for dinner when there was never any dinner or breakfast to look forward to.

The bedside clock told her it was the middle of the night, and she wondered if Frank would still be awake. Her anger had died almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She felt guilty for blowing up on him and knew she needed to apologize. And that he’d probably chew her out for it. Frank wasn’t manipulative. He wasn’t trying to control her. He’d likely be more angry that she’d even suggest that than anything else. But first, she needed to eat something.

Swinging her feet around, she carefully got up from the bed. She avoided a particularly creaky floorboard and made her way to the door. She placed her ear against it and listened, but with the exception of the usual sounds of the building, it was quiet.

Even still, she opened the door as quietly as she could. If Frank was in his room snoring away, he would never hear her, but she couldn’t be too careful. Mila made her way to the kitchen. She could assemble a sandwich quickly and bring it back to her room. Though she hated eating in her room. It made her feel like she was in a prison cell. She opened the fridge, and there on the top shelf was a plate with a sandwich wrapped in waxed paper.

Frank had made dinner for her after all. Of course, he had. She picked up the chilled plate and turned to bring it to her room. But that’s when Frank emerged from the bathroom. A fleck of toothpaste dotted his beard. They caught each other’s gaze before he walked past her and through the kitchen. He was just on the threshold of the living room when he stopped. He raised his arm and leaned against the doorframe.

“Should have talked to you about it, but I wanted you to have a couple of good days before we had to figure things out,” He said. His hand formed into a fist, which he tapped against the frame before turning around.

The guilt crept in again. He had just been thinking about her again. His insistence on her rehabilitation had changed his living situation, his job, and his life. How much time did he spend thinking about her?

Mila set the sandwich down on the counter and stepped toward him.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” She said. It felt weak. After everything.

To her surprise, he nodded. He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his bare chest.

“Yeah, me too,” He said.

She waited, she didn’t have much to say, everything that came to mind just sounded like an excuse to her.

“I’m not like him,” Frank said.

“I know, Frank,” She said.

“I’m not trying to control your life. Not interested in that,” He said.

He took in a deep breath. She shifted her weight on her feet. It seemed like he had more to say.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” She said when he said nothing.

He gave her a sidelong glance, and then a characteristic smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. He threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him.

“I’ve had worse,” He said with a chuckle. Frank reached over with his other arm and grabbed her plate. For a brief moment, she found herself enveloped in his arms. Face pressed against his chest. The scent of his cologne and the toothpaste filled the air around her. And he was warm, as always.

“Come on,” He said and guided her towards the couch. “No reason to eat alone. Unless you want to?”

She shook her head. They both took a seat on the couch.

“Thanks for the sandwich,” She said as she did. She sat down somewhat close to him, bending her legs and letting her feet dangle off the couch. She balanced the plate on her thigh and unwrapped the sandwich. Then she took a bite.

“Want some?” She offered to him. He shook his head. She covered her mouth with her hand and nodded, “It’s really good.”

“I thought so. Better warm, though.”

She wolfed down half the sandwich. In part because she was very hungry, but also to avoid conversation. However, when she finished, instead of picking up the second half, she said, “I’m sorry, Frank.”

“You said that already.”

He reached out and put his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her into him. He had to grab the sandwich plate before it slipped onto the couch, and he set it next to him on the armrest.

From behind her, he pulled down a blanket and draped it over her. She felt a strong desire to tell him everything that was going on in her head. Her worries, her fears, and even her hopes, however small, for her future. Mila looked up at Frank. Her eyes traveled over his face, the way the hairs of his beard curved to the contour of his jawline. The deep wrinkles that lead up to his eyes, his eyes, bright blue, so much hidden behind them.

Frank thought about her enough. She didn’t need to dump her feelings on him.

He must have sensed her watching him because he glanced down. He made a soft questioning noise to match the look on his face.

Mila rose up, allowing the blanket to fall from her shoulders, and pressed a hand to Frank’s chest before kissing him.

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heartkyeom · 2 years

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now or never pt. 4

xu minghao x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (finale)

word count: 10.4k

synopsis: when you make a chance encounter with your ex, you end up saying that you’re engaged to your estranged neighbor xu minghao. when you find out your ex is coming to your friend’s wedding, you’ve only got a month to become a convincing couple.

warnings: chronic illness talk, so much fluff, filthy oral sex lmao, descriptions of female anatomy blowjobs, long car rides, etc.

notes: part 4 is here! finally! longest chapter yet!!! took me exactly a month but I needed to make sure it was perfect. this chapter is building out minghao's character a bit more with some more relationship progress! this covers the last week before the wedding, so there's only one more chapter left !!! thank you for all the love on this series, it feels like it's getting bigger and bigger with every part which is so incredible! please enjoy as always 💓

tag list: @lavenderautumnx @mangogyu @idyllic-ghost @thetigeragenda @sleeplessdawn @bfwonu @soffrine @kwonranghae @butterfliesinthenightsky @sugarrimajins @hitorijanaikara-blog-blog @cosmicwintr @lztespring @justasoftstan @lilactangerine @jeongiegram @hoohoohope @itzelise06 @bonsaijoons @trashygigi @playboygeniusphilanthropist @thedeeppoet @mo-onlar @kyoko-22 @thesunsfullmoon

You wish that the rest of the day could’ve gone well, but Joshua’s confession just floats in your brain, leaving you unable to do much else with yourself.

Minghao drops you off back at your front door after your outing, revenge dress still not revealed. You wanted to see it, but he can sense you’re too tired to deal with it all.

“No, I’m ready, I can look at it,” You reply half heartedly. You try to muster up your enthusiasm, but he can see right through it.

“No, I’m making you go back to sleep. We can just wait on it. I need you to be excited, and I don’t think your mood is anywhere near there,” He pulls your hand to his mouth, leaving a kiss on your palm. You close your eyes and take a breath before glaring at him again.

“Fine,” you pout.

“Let me know if you wanna see me again today, ok?” He pulls you into a hug and you seem to melt into his arms.

“Okay,” You whisper into his ear. You linger in the hug a bit longer than you expected, it feels like a silent plea for him to stay. Yet, you pull away, exchange goodbyes, and tuck yourself into your apartment before you can cry in front of him. You don’t even get to wallow in your sadness for very long before that familiar pain seizes your body without much warning.

Flare ups never give you much time to prepare for impact, you just have to hope you’re lucky enough to catch them in a place where you can sit for an extended period of time.

The rest of the day is a blur, you don’t even remember trying to change clothes or freshen up. You ignore your phone to focus on your comfort show playing on your laptop screen, moving only to charge your computer when prompted.

You knew it was bad to push everyone away for something you couldn’t control, but you still felt the need to process things like this alone.

You forget that the front door was unlocked, so you don’t hear anyone come in until you hear his voice. “Brat, where are you?” You hear the door lock behind him.

The pet name makes you pause the show and close your laptop. You push yourself further into your blanket, tucking your face away into the soft fabric.

“Hello?” You hear him call out again, but you still don’t move. It felt so childish to hide from him, but you couldn’t make yourself stand up to meet him even if you wanted to.

You hear him walk through the living room into your bedroom. His footsteps stop at the sight of you. Before he sits, he goes to turn on the lamp near your side of the bed before making his way to you. You see the pitch black room illuminate with that recognizable soft warmth and you start to feel even worse.

You feel the other side of the bed dip as he settles onto the comforter.

“What’s going on?” His voice is low.

He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne and you realize it’s the most comforting scent in your life. There were traces of him around your apartment, but nothing beat the real thing.

“I can’t move at all,” You push the blanket off your face, but you can’t look at him. You just focus your eyes on the creases in your sheets. He seems to understand exactly what you mean by the way he shifts his weight towards you.

“Shit,” His voice turns frantic, and he grabs your face without a second thought. You finally make eye contact with him and his eyes are nervous. It unnerves you to see him so scared of you, you feel like you have to comfort him instead.

“I’m fine, Hao,” You whisper. He’s not convinced at all, if anything he looks more scared.

“Please, darling, don’t think about your pride, I need to know how I can help you,” His voice shakes and you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. How could you try to deny how much pain you’re in around him when he’s done nothing but try to understand you? His pleading ultimately convinces you to let your guard down.

“I haven’t taken any of my medicine. It feels much worse when I don’t,” Your face twists into discomfort.

“Okay, where is it?” His voice is now stable, he seems resolute in his quest to be strong for you.

“Top shelf of my cabinet in the bathroom, there are two big bottles with red labels on them. They should be right next to each other,” Your eyes are closed by the time you finish giving him instructions, and you assume Minghao is anxiously searching by the way the bed lets up.

He only rummages in the bathroom for a minute or so before returning. He puts everything down on the nightstand before grabbing your attention, holding your face in his hands.

“Hey, can you sit up at all? Is that too hard right now?”

“I can try,” You barely move an inch before his arms are anchored to your side, slowly helping you sit up before you could do anything yourself.

You’re surprisingly comfortable now, and he takes the initiative to remove the blanket from your face. “You seemed overheated,” His brows are knitted in concern as he strokes your cheek with his fingers. You’re definitely sweating, so you’re glad he did something.

“Is there an order you’re supposed to take these in?” He holds one of the bottles up and you nod.

“The bigger one first or else I could die,” You reply nonchalantly, but his eyes read as very concerned. He’s staring at you with that same frantic look from before, but you relieve his worries almost immediately.

“Kidding,” you offer a small smile and he scoffs.

“Don’t joke right now, I’m worried sick about you,” He points an accusing finger, but his face melts into a nervous smile. His worried energy makes you feel much worse the second time around.

“But I do take that one first,” You confirm and he’s nodding his head. He grabs your water bottle from the nightstand, setting it between his legs. As he sits with crossed legs, reading your pill bottles with attentive eyes while his hair hangs in front of his face, you want to cry.

You realize the man in front of you deserves to be let in.

He doesn’t deserve to be ghosted for 12 hours while you’re in excruciating pain, only wanting to help you in your time of need. Even though you’re used to a concerning level of hyper-independence and self-sufficiency, his actions start to convince you that it shouldn’t be that way.

Why do you need to suffer when someone is waiting to help you?

Wouldn’t he have dropped everything to come take care of you hours ago?

The thought of pushing him away without considering his feelings eats at you on the inside.

He gets the first bottle open and feeds you the first two pills one by one, holding your water bottle up for you so you can sip without moving a finger.

“Your bedside manner is really good,” You nod at him once you’ve finished drinking your water and he runs his fingers through his hair with a gentle smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you treat me better than some of the nurses I’ve had.”

You’re not lying either which makes the hint of concern on his face hurt even more.

“Okay, one more,” You didn’t notice that he already opened the second bottle, but you accepted the pill from his fingers once again. He holds up the water for you one last time, waiting for you to swallow before his eyes ease up on you.

“All done,” He runs his hand across your cheek again. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything, right?” It’s not an intruding question when he asks it, there’s no judgment behind his eyes.

You shake your head no and the embarrassment washes over you. “I’m sorry,” You start sobbing and he scrambles to move everything in his lap to get closer to you.

“Why?”

“You just wanted to know how I was feeling and you didn’t even ask for any of this,” You wipe your eyes with your sleeves, your words start to get lost between hiccups. He gently moves your hands out of the way to wipe your tears. The moment he puts his hands down, you pull him in close and he lets you cry into his chest. He whispers comforting words into your ear, cradling your head with his arm. He waits for you to stop sniffling before he speaks up again.

“I don’t like you because I pity you. You have to know that,” He whispers in your ear before pulling back to face you. “You’re so determined and kind, there’s so many things I admire about you when you’re not worrying me half to death,” He makes a jokingly frustrated glance that makes you blush.

“But seriously, I’m happy to help you. You don’t bother me, taking care of you is not a chore. I want to take care of you as long as you want me here. Okay?” He’s got that soft adoring tone in his voice, the one that’s reserved for pulling you out of your overthinking. It works like a charm every time.

“Okay, I believe you,” You nod, letting his words sink into your subconscious slowly. Compassion is still so foreign to you, but you can tell he is determined to change that.

“Let’s have some food and get washed up. I’m gonna make you some tea as well,” The look on his face shows that he’s already got everything laid out in his mind.

“I don’t know what you did, but my muscles already feel better.” It would always take far too long for your medicine to kick in, but Minghao seemed to be gentle enough to make a significant difference. It seemed your body seemed to know the difference when you were being treated gently as well.

“I have magic powers,” He winks and you let him go to start his dinner prep.

He ended up doing everything for you, to say he pampered you is definitely an understatement. He doesn’t let you lift a single finger for the rest of the night, only letting you go when you demand to brush your teeth on your own. You didn’t expect him to be so attentive, but you think he’s just trying to make up for not being able to take care of you before.

When you’re finished eating dinner and your tea is gone, he’s practically attached to you in bed. He can’t stop himself from burying his face into the side of your neck, only moving to nestle himself closer to you. Minghao always starts off sleeping on his own side whenever you’re in bed together, so to start off very close to you is a nice dynamic shift. You’re slowly discovering how important physical contact is for him, it makes you feel even more connected to him.

He somehow convinced you to change into new pajamas, but you do feel more like a human being now. You should’ve spoken up before you were both attempting to sleep, but your brain makes it impossible to settle without bringing your thoughts up.

“Hao?”

“Yeah?” He rasps out, blinking his eyes open at you. You immediately felt bad knowing he needed the rest, but you didn’t want to ignore the chance to speak your mind now that he was awake.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” You pressed a kiss to his hair for the trouble.

“I wasn’t really asleep yet,” You hear him take a deep breath and he pulls himself closer to you. “What’s up?”

“I don’t want to stop seeing you after the wedding. I’ve been trying to find a good way to tell you officially, but I don’t think the agreement holds up much anymore,” You finish ranting and he’s surprisingly quiet. You feel him let go of your hold and your first instinct thinks you might have fucked up.

He didn’t want to be serious with you.

The lamp suddenly flashes on, forcing you to blink to adjust to the new light. He seems lost in thought until he meets your eyes.

“I don’t wanna stop seeing you either,” He smiles so brightly that it spreads to his eyes, “I think you’ve got a little too much of my heart for me to say no.”

You could’ve cried from relief. You had a suspicion that someone who took a dress commission from you for free didn’t want to be just friends.

“Thank god,” You put your head in your hands and sigh to yourself. Was it too soon to think you could be in love with him? Absolutely.

Yet, did those feelings grow when you saw how giddy he got at the thought of you? Yes.

“So you were nervous to ask me?” He reaches out for your hold and you do your best to crawl over to him. He closes the distance when he notices a hint of struggle on your face and wraps his arms around you tightly.

“A little bit,” You mumble into his chest. You feel his giggles vibrate across your body and he runs his hands down your back.

“You make me nervous too, for the record. I figured if I fucked up the dress, that was it,” He sighed loudly. It was nice to know the feeling was mutual though, that you were both feeling so excited yet nervous about the connection that it stopped you both in your tracks.

“You couldn’t possibly fuck up the dress, though,” You knew he was far too talented for that, especially after seeing his vision for other projects in his studio.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” He admitted, making you both burst into laughter. It was nice to see him hype himself up for a second despite the humble attitude he adopted most times when complimented on his work.

You both talked about fashion related things until you felt pulled toward sleep once again. Your head is nestled on his chest and you’re almost certain that his idle touches to your skin knock you out quickly.

You almost think you’re dreaming things when you hear him whisper to you.

“Don’t scare me like that again, I can’t lose you,” It’s so faint but it’s enough to push you into sleep completely.

You don’t want to scare him like that either, especially since he’s proven how much he can be there for you.

You figure it’s time to show him how much you care for him too.

“I don’t want to be there when you try it on,” Minghao remains insistent at your front door.

You’re not exactly convinced with the garment bag hanging over your shoulder. Minghao had finally given you permission to see the dress, but with one stipulation that you couldn’t exactly wrap your head around.

“Why not?” You try to stop your face from twisting into a discontent expression.

“I imagine it’ll be kinda emotional, I don’t want to get in the way of that. I know, it sounds stupid, but I’ve done it for so long with my commissions. Just trust me,” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You give him an anxious glance and he smiles at you. “You can come over once you’ve tried it on. You can tell me all your reactions and everything, I promise!” He exclaims.

“Okay, I trust you,” You nod through the response. You exchange quick goodbyes and you shut the door behind you.

You give yourself a few seconds before you’re practically running into your bedroom.

You lay the bag down gently onto your bed and unzip down the front until the dress is partially exposed. From first glance, you can tell it’s dramatic. The sight of a strapless gown takes your breath away.

Before you can even take it out of the bag, you notice a note attached to the front of the plastic. You read it to yourself:

To my muse-

I hope I made you the perfect revenge dress. If you don’t like it, then feel free to drag me through the mall to find you something better. It’ll only hurt my feelings a little bit.

Hao

The end of the note left you laughing, but a few things make your heart clench.

First, muse. You don’t know why it pulls so much at your heart to hear him call you that. It’s probably the weight of the situation, how quickly you’ve grown together, it all feels so precious to you.

Second, the idea that whatever he made you could be worse than a department store dress didn’t make sense at all. You’re sure whatever he made would be nestled in your heart forever, the intimacy of making you something this personal was not lost on you.

You don’t want to mull on the note for too long, so you place it on your dresser before coming back to look at the dress again.

You carefully unwrap it out of the plastic and hold it up to get a better look at it.

It’s breathtaking, even just on a hanger. The black sheen fabric feels so lush in your fingers, you can’t describe how it makes you feel.

You expected it to be a bit revealing, but the combination of the strapless neckline and the high slit are almost lethal.

It takes you a few minutes to actually get dressed, but once it’s on, you feel like a new person. The moment you see yourself in the mirror, you’re speechless.

First of all, the dress fits perfectly. It hugs your hips and compliments your figure so well that you don’t think you’ve ever seen your body look so at ease in a garment.

The strapless neckline compliments your chest, slightly bolstered by the structured corset bodice. The slit is almost dangerously high, you’re staring at just how exposed your leg is.

It feels dangerous to even wear it in the comfort of your bedroom. You can only imagine what power it would give you in public.

You don’t think any of the jewelry you have in your closet would be good enough to match it, but something would have to do.

Minghao was right that wearing the dress brings something out of you. It wasn’t about feeling desirable by Joshua anymore, it was a rebirth of your identity without him. It was cathartic to see yourself wear something that would force you to grab attention instead of hiding away.

This dress reminds you that weren’t going to minimize yourself for anyone anymore.

After a few more glances at yourself, you’re itching to get back in your sweatpants so you can run to Minghao’s door.

Once you get out of the dress, you get dressed in your other clothes in record speed. You barely remember to put on your slides before you’re out the front door.

You’re nearly breathless when you arrive at his door. You end up knocking on the door so loudly that he’s almost shocked to see you on the other side.

You push yourself past him, and he’s watching you with a mischievous eye while closing the door behind him.

You kiss him before he can say anything, capturing his lips so quickly that he nearly stumbles into the hallway closet.

“It’s so perfect,” you say between kisses, “I just wanna kiss you because I can’t pay you for it.” You’re moaning into the kisses at this point, so much so that Minghao pulls away with a dazed expression.

“You love it that much?” He bites his lip at how eager you are.

“Yes, I’m fucking obsessed with it. Thank you so much,” You rest your head in the crook of his neck for a second before looking at him again.

“You’re welcome, darling. I’m really glad you like it.”

He admires your face for a bit too long that you start to feel pulled in by his glance. The longer you look at him, desire overtakes any of the rationality you have left.

“I don’t think I’ve said thank you enough,” Your hands land on his chest, you can barely stop yourself from wandering down to his nipples.

“Show me then,” He can’t help himself when he teases you, taking your hands and snaking them underneath his shirt.

His skin still feels like a surprise to you despite your previous encounters. Suddenly, everything in you wants to take things much slower than your hasty entrance.

You’ll have so much time to go hard and fast with him, but capturing your unspoken showing of gratitude feels much more paramount.

Although having time to figure out your career was nice, the threat of not having money for rent was much bigger. You thought carefully about Minghao’s words, how the idea of wanting to start over with fashion was enough at the moment, but you were tired of sitting and waiting.

You needed to take action.

You didn’t want to rely on Minghao to get your foot in the door, despite him probably wanting to help you out.

Your portfolios from college didn’t exactly reflect your current vision as a designer, but they had enough material for you to present to any potential employers. You didn’t have much to lose, so you spent hours trying to scour through resources online for any possible leads on apprenticeships or openings for residencies.

You sent far too many emails to fashion houses around the city within one day, including Minghao’s employer Semicolon. You get so wrapped up in typing that Minghao has to pry your laptop away from you in the middle of you drafting an email, much to your dismay. He reassures you that whoever responds back will be lucky to have you, which is true, but you still try not to get your hopes up about anything.

Thus, when you receive an email the next day from the head of Minghao’s department, to say you’re shocked is an understatement.

You wouldn’t be working directly with runway clients, but in the print department instead. You had more experience with magazine work anyways, back when you used to get involved with a few different student magazines on campus as an underclassmen.

It’s a lower level designer job, but a job nonetheless. You weren’t exactly in a position to turn down the interview, especially when you knew how well they paid at all levels.

Your interview happened to be on the big day of Minghao’s consideration for a promotion as well.

He mentioned it in his sleepy ramblings a few nights ago, how he was up for a promotion to head designer. He would be the lead designer on any national and international runway collections that the company created, positioning him as one of the most established in-house designers at Semicolon.

It was a major deal, especially since he would be the youngest person to be head designer in Semicolon’s history. All eyes were on him, and you were certain that the pressure was getting to him.

You both stood outside the company building on the day of, 15 minutes before your meetings, hands intertwined with similar levels of nerves accompanying you. You turn to face him with a nervous look in your eyes.

“We’ll be fine, right?” You ask quietly.

“We have to be,” He nods at you, absentmindedly biting his lip. You look at the building again with scattered eyes, your brain doesn’t even feel remotely prepared for this.

“The worst we can get is a no,” It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself as you say it, but you need to hear it out loud.

“Exactly,” He affirms you with a gentle squeeze to your hand. “We’ll walk in together, take the same elevator and no matter what happens, it’ll be okay.”

You nod and take one last deep breath before he starts leading you both inside the building. Your senses are too focused on the task at hand to look around the lobby this time, you don’t seem to relax until you both step inside the elevator.

You’re going to floor 8 while he goes to floor 19. He presses both buttons and faces you again. “You’re gonna do perfect, darling. You have everything you need,” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and pulls you into a short yet tight hug.

“You too. You’re gonna make the best head designer this company has ever seen,” You kiss his cheek the moment you’re out of the hug. He nods with a silent certainty that things will go well. The 8th floor chime comes sooner than you want, but you step out, clutching your portfolio for dear life. You look at him one last time before the elevator closes and he blows you a kiss with a short wave.

You can barely smile back before the elevator doors close and you’re alone again. You figure that you’ll never be 100% ready for whatever happens, so you look for the designated office before you can question yourself any longer.

45 minutes later, you’re left a bit unnerved as you close the office door behind you. The elevator ride back down to the lobby has your mind completely swimming, but you know that you can’t process any of it until Minghao is out of his meeting.

You both agreed to wait outside for each other once the interviews were over. You figured that you’d be out before him, and your suspicions were correct when you didn’t notice anyone sitting outside on the benches near the entrance.

It feels like you’re waiting a lifetime until you finally see his figure walk out of the revolving doors. His face is unreadable when he approaches you with a small wave.

“Okay, we’re gonna say yes or no if we got the job on the count of 3,” You brace yourself for whatever he says and he agrees to your proposition immediately.

“1, 2, 3,” He counts slowly.

“Yes,” You both speak in unison.

His eyes go wide and you nearly drop your bag.

“Oh my fucking god,” You scream into his ear, wrapping your arms around him until you can barely feel your fingertips. He reciprocates the hug immediately and nearly tackles you in the process. You’re both just waddling around in this hug for a few minutes, drinking in each other’s success until you can barely breathe.

“You deserve this so fucking much,” He comes up for air and almost knocks you over with a kiss. Your mouth melts into his instantly, you can’t stop your tongue from pushing into his mouth. You can feel just how excited he is by the way he holds your face with his hands.

He’s quite good at the push and pull, he still knows how to make you flustered after each kiss. He pulls away with a giggle, leaving you completely breathless.

“You do too, head designer,” You push his shoulder playfully and you can see the tips of his ears turn red.

“Come on, let’s go home so we can get wasted,” He pouts and you can’t exactly say no to that face.

“Can we drink the cheap wine I have in my fridge? I think I have too much to drink on my own,” You ask him as you both walk back to his car arm in arm.

“Absolutely, we can do anything you want. We deserve to celebrate,” He can’t help himself as he leaves a kiss on your cheek.

You want to bottle up this feeling so badly. Yet, you’re sure that you’ll always remember the way the light summer breeze hitting your face, holding hands with your lover, smiling until your cheeks hurt because you both got lucky on the exact same day in the same building.

It feels like nothing else really matters in the moment besides the way Minghao kisses you, as if he’ll never be able to taste your lips again.

You hold him to the promise of drinking and making out, the former coming first. You arrange a few bottles of wine on your living room floor, slowly making your way through them together until you’re too giggly to keep going.

You give up on drinking out of wine glasses and you decide to periodically switch bottles instead, taking a few sips of one bottle before switching flavors.

Soon enough, he was pushing your hand away from the bottle with a small giggle.

“Stop it,” He swats your hand lightly and quickly captures it between his hands. The swift movement makes you scream and he’s shushing you, but you both fall right back into laughter.

“You’re drinking just as much as me!” You exclaim. He pushes his lips out to deflect your statement, but it’s true. His cheeks are flushed and he’s laughing at everything you’re saying, a classic tell that he’s drunk.

“Maybe I just wanted to look at you, how about that darling?” He tilts his head and your playful frustration comes out.

“Where did this darling thing come from? You started doing it out of nowhere,” You scrunch your face at him and he’s slightly embarrassed.

“Didn’t want to call you brat forever. Do you not like it?” He gets slightly quiet and you hit his shoulder. There’s absolutely no way you could ever hate his nicknames, they feel too comfortable for him to ever stop.

“I love it! I just like brat too,” You shrug your shoulders and he smirks at you. “No, not like that, you’re so gross,” You push him again and he puts his arms around you before you can touch him again.

“I didn’t mean it in that way, brat,” He presses lots of kisses to your cheek, enough that you want to squirm away out of fake discomfort.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Your words start slurring to the point where Minghao is stumbling to get you both some water.

“Where are you going?” You shut your eyes but reach out for him, making grabby hands that he can’t help but coo at.

“You’re so fucking cute, but you need water. We both do,” You hear him come back and sit next to you again. He taps your face to get you to open your eyes and he’s handing you the cup of water carefully. He can’t even let you hold it completely, he’s cupping your hands and helping you drink the entire cup. You don’t want to admit that it’s easier to have him help, so you keep it to yourself.

He gulps down his own cup of water and moves them out of the way so that you don’t knock them over.

“Let me take care of you,” You sigh, your shoulders visibly lowering with the release of air. Your eyes are not shy about wandering to his crotch and he laughs a bit too loudly.

“You don’t have to do anything, it’s okay,” He insists.

“I want to,” You fight back immediately, the desire taking over when you lay your hands flat on his thighs. There’s a beat of silence before you ask him for permission.

“Can I?” It’s a whisper that you’re not even sure he heard, you can’t even look in his eyes. He lifts your chin to meet your gaze. His eyes are so forgiving that you know he wants it before he can even speak out loud.

“Go ahead, baby,” He nods and your hands are already unzipping his pants, you don’t have to give him time before he’s taking off both his pants and boxers at once.

The sight of his cock still leaves you speechless, no matter if he’s giving you one quick round before he’s going to work or if he gets to take his time with you. Precum is already leaking from his tip, you wish you had the patience to tease him like you wanted to, but you just want the taste of him too badly.

He’s visibly hard, so much so that the moment you touch him he flinches.

“It’s okay, love, just relax,” You reassure him. You lick the underside of his cock and he lets out a shaky breath, he clearly didn’t expect it which makes it even better.

You settle yourself between his legs, your nails draw light scratches down his thighs and his eyes are already fluttering shut.

You don’t give him a warning before you take his length in your mouth. You hear him moan and it spurs you on to take him completely, he hits the back of your throat and the sting you feel doesn’t matter when his reactions are so pretty. It makes him hiss and he grabs your shoulder out of desperation. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum if you keep going this hard,” He whispers, his grip tightening slightly.

You pull off briefly to give him an innocent smile and he returns it quickly. “Okay,” You take him into your mouth again after your reply, slowly moving your head back and forth until he’s completely comfortable. His desperate groans are your kryptonite, so you subconsciously speed up and let him adjust to it. The taste of his precum mixed with your saliva is intoxicating, it definitely helps to hear him whining.

You feel him clutch your hair, guiding you slightly further onto him. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” His voice is laced with so much pleasure that it drives you crazy. This is definitely the messiest blowjob you’ve ever given, but he doesn’t seem to mind how sloppy it is.

You experimentally push his cock to the back of your throat again and he lets out a strangled groan, nearly letting go of your hair. His noises are the only thing filling the room, a mix of whines and moans filling your ears.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” His reply is barely coherent, but it’s enough to know he’s coming towards the edge. You suck him a bit more before you move your mouth off of him again and he complains.

“I’m so close,” He whispers. He watches you stand up and straddle yourself onto his lap. The new friction makes him throw his head back in pleasure, screwing his eyes shut. He’s willing himself to not cum on the spot, focusing instead on your face.

You want to be rational, you should still be between his legs sucking him off so that he can just cum in your mouth. Yet, your core feels so neglected that selfishness takes over.

“I want you to cum in me,” You put on your best innocent voice to try and convince him. His eyebrows raise in suspicion.

“Are you on birth control?” He questions and you nod immediately, leaning down to place kisses in the crook of his neck. You hadn’t had a proper conversation about experimenting during sex, but your drunk subconscious mind decided to speedrun it with him tonight.

“I’m clean, I promise. I’m gonna feel so tight on you, Hao, please,” You put on the charm when you whisper in his ear. When he doesn’t respond immediately, you roll your hips down onto him. He tightens his arms around you with a loud moan that surprises you.

“You’re such a little shit,” He slips his hands underneath your shirt to unhook your bra, throwing it across the room. He squeezes your breasts, kneading them roughly. You let out a breathless moan, the feeling of him finally touching your skin feels more satisfying than you thought it would.

He watches you get undressed before forcing you back onto his lap.

You let him lower you down onto his cock and you both let out filthy moans at the sensation of being inside each other without any barriers. You can feel how sensitive he is inside you, every movement feels far more intense than all the other times you’ve fucked.

“Gonna let you cum first,” You sigh, slowly moving yourself on his cock. He lets out a bitter sounding laugh that you can’t tell if it’s a joke or not.

“So nice of you,” He scratches his nails down your back with a bit of a mean streak. It doesn’t take long before his moans are picking up again, and you think you’d like to return that mean energy of his.

You kiss down his neck, hips still moving rapidly. You pick a random visible spot to suck a mark on his neck, not taking the pain into consideration at all. He stutters out in agony, whining so loudly that it makes you smile against his skin.

“Fucking hell,” He sighs out loud enough for you to contemplate doing it again. You don’t have time to make a decision before he clutches your hips, you feel him clench around you and his cum fills you up quickly. You both still your movements and his mouth is fully agape, his chest heaving from how hard his orgasm hit.

“Don’t move,” He grits out, he’s still panting but he knows he has to act quickly. You know he’s slightly annoyed, but his fingers move to your clit, rubbing you so quickly that your brain can barely catch up.

You can already feel yourself clenching around his cock, he knows how to work you up so intensely that a proper orgasm can hit you out of nowhere.

“Please Hao, please let me,” Your words trail off and you can barely look at him, much less keep still around him.

“Let you do what? You need to tell me,” That teasingly sweet voice of his is anything but helpful at the moment. You’re nearly crying from the pressure on your core, his fingers just won’t stop moving and it makes it so hard not to disobey him.

“Fuck, please let me cum, I can’t hold it,” You’re panting, you think you can feel his cum seeping out of you onto the floor. You look down and it’s true, his cum ended up near your feet. It shouldn’t feel that satisfying, but it is, the overstimulation of fluids makes it hard to deny yourself any more pleasure.

“Then cum,” He makes it sound like it’s nothing, but his nonchalance works so easily on you. You let yourself cum almost immediately, clamping your hand over your mouth to restrain the wildly unpredictable moans coming out of you. The clenching feels so intense that you have to move, you have to do something to combat the pain radiating throughout your body.

After a few moments, he helps you get off of his lap and your legs are shaking, you’ve definitely sobered up a bit from all the action. He finally kisses you, letting his mouth linger on your lips for a few moments so you can savor him. “You did well, darling,” He kisses your cheek before getting up to start your joint aftercare routine.

You watch him with heavy eyelids, and the aftercare seems to happen without much effort on your part. He always dotes on you to a point where you stop trying to fight it, especially now when you’re not exactly drunk or sober to do anything at all.

You’re just lucky to eventually be put in bed with fresh pajamas on. He definitely had to coax you to take your medicine, but things went relatively easily.

It’s only when you’re both falling towards sleep that you feel the urge to hold a conversation again. “Sorry for not finishing you off,” you mumble. You hear him laugh under his breath.

“It’s okay, you’re really keeping me on my toes,” You feel him curl tighter into your side. You hum in response, and you let another minute go by.

“Are you scared things might not work out between us?” You ask suddenly. Your voice comes out much smaller than you wanted it to.

“Sometimes. The month went by pretty quickly,” His response makes you feel less alone in your anxiety. It felt like such a whirlwind romance that you didn’t have much time to enjoy the little intricacies of getting to know each other.

You learned about each other out of desperation, surprised that something fruitful came out of that need to look acceptable as a couple to others.

“I think so too. But whatever happens, it’s still worth it that I got to know you,” You offer, you wish you could see his face so that he saw just how much you meant it.

You didn’t want to picture the past month without him, you can’t imagine a reality where Minghao isn’t there by your side to take care of you.

“Do you think I’m worth all the effort? Do you regret meeting me?” His questions leave a pang of guilt in your heart. He’s usually quite self-sufficient with his worries, typically isolating for a while before coming back to silently ask for kisses and cuddles. Thus, you don’t get many chances to verbalize how much you like him when he’s feeling upset.

“You’re completely worth it, Hao. I don’t regret any of this. You’re so special to me,” You soothe his worries with such sweet words. He takes a moment to process them, until you hear a sniffle.

You grow concerned, so you turn on your lamp. A teary eyed Minghao looks at you with a slight pout. His eyes are slightly puffy and you try not to let any surprise cross your face.

“My baby,” You instinctively pull him into your chest like he’s done it for you so many times. His cries are so quiet, but you can still feel his body shake in your arms.

“You mean a lot to me. I hate hiding my feelings from you,” His tone is somewhat even, most of the emotion doesn’t spill through.

“Whenever you want to tell me anything, I’m here. I like hearing whatever is on your mind,” You leave soft touches on his shoulder. He’s always been quite practical and objective, letting you know exactly how he feels about things, so to see him with his guard down means he trusts you so deeply.

“Okay, I promise I will,” He pulls his face back from your hold to wipe his tears. He grabs your hands and holds them to his chest instead.

“Y/N?” He calls out to you again.

“Yes?”

“I don’t like sleeping without you,” He blinks at you with a small smile. His voice nearly breaks your heart from how cute he sounds.

“I don’t either, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Your response makes him close his eyes, nodding softly. You wipe the stray tears still left on his cheeks.

He takes the chance to leave a few pecks on your lips, but you know you need more.

You press your lips to his for a few moments and you can almost feel him melt into your touch. He lets out a quiet satisfied hum the moment you pull away from him.

You turn away to turn off the lamp and he’s already whining, pulling at your arm to stop your movements. “I’m right here, love,” You giggle into his chest, you quickly lie down again to face him in the darkness.

You fall asleep with a few more kisses pressed to your lips, your mutual affection seems to radiate off each other so easily.

You figure this feeling is enough to keep you happy for the rest of your life.

The next day, packing your own clothes for the wedding wasn’t hard, but getting Minghao to pack was a bit more difficult.

He insisted that he already put some clothes aside for his suitcase a few days ago, but you don’t notice anything when you enter his closet.

Instead, you’re drawn to his impressive array of clothing. You’re definitely overwhelmed by how cool his pieces are. You figure it’s a mix of clothes he’s made for himself, pieces he’s made for collections that he stole for his own closet, archival designer clothes, and a medley of thrifted clothes sprinkled in.

It was completely foreign to your own closet, it felt like its own little world that you could spend forever in.

When you retreat out of the closet, you notice Minghao is at his desk, hands and body completely still.

He has lots of sketches organized across his desk, but he seems to be staring at one in particular.

“Hao, are you ok, love?” You try. You place your hand on his shoulder and he still doesn’t move.

“My hands aren’t doing what I need them to do,” He hums, blinking at the papers before him.

“Let’s take a break, yeah?” You grab his hands and massage them gently. His eyes flutter shut and he takes a deep breath, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Yeah,” He opens his eyes and slowly stands up from his desk. The promotion is already giving him far more work than before. Despite his position not officially starting until after the wedding, you can sense it’s taking a toll on him already.

You know he’s told you about being a workaholic, but watching him work from home today has made that personality trait even more real in your brain. He gets so focused that it’s hard to break him out of that trance, especially when you try to make him take breaks.

You discover it’s best not to bother him since he has his own internal productivity clock, but you figured it had been a few hours too long since the last break.

You came over to his apartment with the intention of not doing much together anyways, but you didn’t expect him to work the entire time.

“How about we pick out clothes instead?” You suggest, rubbing your hands up and down his arms in a feeble effort to ground him.

“We’re only there for a few days, there’s not much for me to pick out,” He giggles to himself as he looks back at the closet.

Mingyu’s wedding had a formal dress code, but you and Minghao had decided to take an extra day to stay in the vicinity of the small beach town to relax before coming back into town to start the new phases of your professional lives.

“Well, show me these outfits you allegedly picked out, idiot,” You playfully shove him toward the closet and he puts his hands up in defense.

“Fine, fine,” He backs into the closet and turns his attention to the clothes slightly above his eyeline. He grabs a sleek black suit to prop up in his arms.

“Wedding outfit with a nice tie,” He looks at his picks before looking at you for feedback.

The suit was nice, muted enough so that your dress could be the real showstopper. Yet, his tie was still decorated with an intricate pattern that caught your attention.

“Very nice,” You nod and he nods as well before placing it back in the closet. He stays in the closet for a few moments before emerging again with a pastel blue set, a solid button up with matching linen shorts. It was the perfect lazy weekend beach attire.

“And my beach day outfit,” He looks up at you with a proud smile.

“That’s gonna look so pretty on you, especially that color,” You coo at him, your tone gets high at the possibility of seeing him in bright colors. He bites back a smile, but ultimately gives into the compliment with a smirk.

“Thank you,” His voice is a bit smaller now, you notice the tips of his ears are red, but you don’t point it out.

He goes to put the clothes back before your gaze can linger on him for too long, but it’s too late.

You’re already concocting more ways that you can catch him off guard with a compliment.

He pulls out a small black industrial type suitcase out onto the floor of the bedroom, and it suits him completely.

You decide to sit on his bed and watch him pack the suitcase carefully. You’re sure he’s done it countless times that it feels like second nature. You wonder what the inside of his passport looks like, what he’s like on an international flight, the first thing he does in a new country, so many questions about his travel habits plagued you.

His hands treat his clothes so delicately, you can only admire the way he folds his clothes, smoothing his palm across the top to rid any lingering wrinkles before placing them gingerly into the suitcase.

You watch him wander back and forth from the bathroom, casually collecting items to place into side pockets and pouches.

You think you’ve unlocked a new kind of domesticity with him, a silent one where you can adore him from afar without constantly needing to fill the silence. The way his eyes scan the case is enough to keep you captivated.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He brushes his hair back from his forehead, looking up at you suddenly.

“Definitely,” You smile at him with a particular fondness, he senses it with a closed mouth smile.

He closes the top of the suitcase, he’s definitely not done packing for sure, but it’s enough for now when he gets up and sits next to you on the bed.

“Are you nervous about the trip?” His hand finds the nape of your neck easily, slowly rubbing his fingers against your skin.

“Slightly,” You close your eyes for a moment before blinking back at him. He hums in understanding.

“Besides him being there, do you like weddings?” He continues his soft movements, but tries to engage with you further.

“I do,” You can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face, it’s hard to contain yourself.

“Tell me more,” He giggles at your sudden excitement, he shifts his weight to account for your now perky mood, now absentmindedly playing with your hands.

“Everything about them just makes me happy, I like seeing people in love,” Your tone of voice is so far up in the clouds that he can tell you’re daydreaming.

“Do you think you’ll ever be in love?” His question grounds your dreams instantly.

It shouldn’t unnerve you this much.

You want to tell him that you’re already in love with him, but the words are lodged in your throat so tightly that you can’t do much about it. You can only take a breath and hope he doesn’t notice how much that question affects you.

Yet, you know how he is. He notices something happening with you before you do.

“I’m sure I will,” You nod in affirmation in hopes that he leaves it alone, that he won’t press you any further about the topic.

He doesn’t ask you verbally, but his eyes search yours with a hope that you mean you’ll fall in love with him.

“I know you will. You’re perfect,” His words are laced with so much affection that it almost hurts to hear, so sickly sweet that your heart practically feels weighed down from the kindness of it.

It’s enough to pull him in for a kiss, to help him achieve that feeling in your chest. His lips slot into yours so naturally at this point, you don’t have to try too hard at it before he senses your needs.

He deepens the kiss ever so slightly, but it still leaves your heart fluttering. The tension recreates itself the moment he looks into your eyes. He leaves you breathless and you can feel the slight puffiness of your lips now that you’re away from his mouth.

No matter what he just did, you can’t make each other say what you truly mean.

It’s too much when you’re both packing for a trip where you’re meant to play up a lie that no longer feels like a lie. The relationship is so fragile that it has to keep unfolding in its own time, it’s not meant to handle a rushed confession.

You both deserve better than that.

“You think I’m perfect?” You finally respond to his statement. He sighs with a particularly sweet smile on his face.

“Absolutely,” He examines your face long enough for you to feel safe under his gaze. After a while, you watch him get up to finish organizing his suitcase and you’re not sure what makes you upset.

You wrestle with your feelings as he zips up his suitcase, pushing it to a corner in his room. He convinces you to get ready for bed with him, and it helps you push away the thoughts for now.

No matter what happens this weekend, he’ll be with you. You can only hope that’s enough for you to feel safe.

—

Road trips were a rare occasion for Minghao. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy them, but he never had a good reason to spontaneously travel or the time to take them very often.

Thus, the trip up to the wedding would be momentous. Minghao has read that the strength of relationships are tested when you travel with your partner, and it’s the first time he’s properly done it with anyone he’s dating.

He wants to do it right, so he hopes to make the weekend perfect, starting with getting off work early to mentally prepare himself for the journey.

He would be driving, not that he didn’t trust you, but he was slightly protective of his car. He would’ve insisted on driving you both regardless if you tried to fight him on it, not wanting you to overexert yourself a few days after such a big flare up.

He makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible in the passenger seat, confirming that you have snacks and your comfort items to keep you interested. He triple checks that you have your engagement ring on and you’re nearly cackling at him for being so worried. When he estimated the trip to be a few hours, he didn’t expect it to be 3.5 hours instead.

Yet, the hotel reservations were booked and there’s no viable way to fly to the small town, so he comes to terms with the parameters of the trip.

He’s grateful that you’re actively engaging him in conversation, he needs the mental stimulation to keep himself awake. He already let you pick the playlist to soundtrack the trip which kept you even more energetic.

“So when are we hypothetically getting married?” You ask without warning. “Just in case somebody asks, which I know they will,” He can tell your voice has that little self assured tone to it which makes him smile.

“This time next year, in the summer,” He takes a quick look at you before focusing on the road again.

“Ooh, a summer wedding would be pretty,” You affirm his thoughts. “Where would it be though?”

“Where would you like it to be?” He counters and it catches you off guard. He listens to you ponder your answer with a quiet hum before speaking up.

“I love the idea of it in a garden, like either outside in a garden or in those beautiful indoor greenhouse rooms with the garden outside of it,” The hypothetical details start to build a mental image that makes him excited.

“That sounds beautiful. So it sounds like it won’t be a destination wedding?”

“Absolutely not. It’s nice in theory, but logistically it might be hard for people to get there,” Your tone is resolute, making Minghao giggle as he clutches the steering wheel.

“You’re thinking of our future guests’ well-being already, you’re so sweet,” He coos at you with a pinch to your cheek, his gaze still focused on the road ahead. You were always thinking of other people, never yourself. Even if you wanted an international wedding, you should be able to put your foot down about what you want instead of centering others.

“It’s just a nice thing to do! Besides, there are plenty of nice gardens here,” You reply softly. He wonders if you’ve mentally picked out a venue yet, if you know the ins and outs of the best gardens around the country. He wants to know more, but he decides to keep moving.

“Ok, how many people would be coming to the wedding then?” He raises his eyebrows.

“No more than 300,” The reply comes almost immediately, “I don’t think I even know 100 people,” Your voice turns slightly concerned at the thought, but he’s quick to reassure you.

“That makes sense, bigger weddings kind of become more of a spectacle than focusing on the marriage itself. It’s weird,” He shakes his head at the idea of it. To him, weddings should feel somewhat intimate, and having over 1,000 people watch you get married makes him feel a bit unsettled.

“Exactly! We’re not celebrities, just people. Please keep the fashion industry invites to a minimum,” You joke and it makes him laugh.

“Trust me, most of them would not be coming,” He rolls his eyes and repositions his hands on the wheel. As much as he likes his work, it had to be separate from his personal life as much as possible now that you worked there too. There had to be some distance, even if this wedding wouldn’t be a problem in the immediate future.

“Sounds like you'd like to be involved in wedding planning then.”

“Yes, for sure. You shouldn’t have to do that alone, it’s my wedding too,” He whines lightly at the end of the sentence and now it’s your turn to fawn over him.

“Of course, love. I can’t imagine doing it alone,” You card your fingers through his hair and he sighs gently at your touch. This kind of daydreaming makes Minghao want to propose all over again just to give you that perfect garden wedding.

He can already picture you both on your not so hypothetical wedding day, it all aligns in his brain so perfectly that it feels too good to be true. He knows he’s jumping too far into the future, but he can’t help it when you give him so much to work with. He knows the timeline in between matters as well, everything about you matters to him.

The wedding banter goes on for a bit longer until you fall asleep. That makes up the bulk of the trip, him driving with your music playing softly in the background while you’re cuddled up against the window. He prefers driving in relative silence, it gives him the space to think about everything coming within the next day.

He honestly doesn’t know how you’ll fare when you see Joshua again, considering how difficult the entire situation has been for you. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he’ll act around Joshua either knowing just how much he’s hurt you. He can only hope you choose yourself and your own feelings first.

He knows you’re a heavy sleeper, but he discovers it even more now. When someone tries to cut him off on the highway, he’s forced to honk his horn but he looks over to discover you’re still dead asleep.

The slight dips in the road and any slight swerves he makes to avoid potholes don’t disturb you much at all besides the occasional stirring in your sleep.

He eventually stops about 2 and a half hours into the journey to get gas and stretch his legs, but he’s still in good spirits overall. Somehow, the stopped car doesn’t wake you up, something he uses to his advantage.

He grabs his phone to take photos of you, angling himself in as many different ways possible to capture you. He smiles to himself as he quickly scrolls through the photos to choose a new one for his lockscreen. He still hadn’t changed it, he felt like none of his pictures captured that unspeakable feeling you give him until now.

He thinks you’re absolutely adorable, your arms are tightly crossed across your chest with your hands hidden by your hoodie sleeves. At some point before you fell asleep, you pulled the strings tight enough that your head was almost swallowed up by the fabric, to him you looked like a little egg. It was definitely picture worthy in his mind, and he was lucky enough that he got the pictures before you woke up.

“Hao? Are we there yet?” You ask him sleepily, eyes blinking open slowly.

“Not yet, darling. We’ve got another hour or so,” He rubs your thigh gently. You only nod and settle back into a comfortable position, facing your body away from Minghao towards the window.

He realizes something as he starts the car again, pulling back onto the roads to finish the last leg of the drive.

It sets in more as the sun sets on the horizon, even further when he parks the car and takes a deep breath to himself. He helps you wake up completely so you can both get your luggage out of the car. The check in process goes easily, but it’s not until you’re both in the elevator that it hits him.

He loves you.

He loves the way you always lean into his touch, how you give him the space to be himself, the subtle ways you look after him that he can’t always verbalize.

He loves that despite everything, you still love so fiercely.

He grew into his love for you, the pieces of it came together without him even realizing it. He didn’t want to admit it when Soonyoung and Chan kept telling him how head over heels he was for you, especially when he found a way to come over to your apartment almost every day just so he could see you.

He didn’t want to admit how many times he restarted the sketching process for the dress, how he held a meticulous eye over his sewing machine so that every stitch held a bit of his love for you. He wanted to make sure that all of the extra time he spent on small details would show even a fraction of his adoration for you.

He loves you and he wonders if he’ll be able to say it out loud before you go back home.

#oh bitch. now THIS was a doozy to write #but it's worth it #minghao smut #minghao fluff #minghao imagines #minghao fanfic #minghao scenarios #minghao x reader #minghao x y/n #minghao x you #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt scenarios #heartkyeom #now or never

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