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𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER TWO

pairing: model! minghao x stripper! reader
word count: 1.5k
general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, hao’s sorta kinda a regular customer, soft dom! minghao, steamy/intense makeout session, super/mullet minghao inspired, partial nudity, vip room sex, slight use of pet names (doll, masterpiece, baby), aaand i think that’s it
playlist songs: adorn - miguel, mushroom chocolate - quin & 6lack, anime girls - melli
notes: thank y’all for the love on pd so far! i’m getting notifs nonstop and that makes me really happy :’) hope you enjoy this week’s chapter!
taglist: @im-gemmy , @enhacolor, @hooniewnderland , @svtup , @kawaiikels @weeevrse @diorsfxck @kyexvly @woozarts @ifuckcheol (let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist)

you apply the finishing touches to your makeup, admiring how you looked in your silver sequined two-piece set and matching seven inch heels. to your surprise, you could already hear the loud atmosphere from the dressing room - and it wasn’t even 11 o’clock yet.
“it’s gonna be a good night,” you think to yourself, smiling to yourself at the thought of you covered in hundred dollar bills.
before you head out, you scroll through your phone one last time, looking at your social media feeds. double tapping on a friend’s post, you see a notification appear at the top of your screen.
minghao: hey, are you working tonight? i’m back in town for a show, but i need to relax and see you 😩
you bite down on your lip, your eyes rereading the message and your brain taking in every word. minghao is a famous model, somewhere in the world he was always in a show, walking the runway for all of the luxury brands. his handsome looks and his insanely gorgeous figure made him the it-boy every designer and photographer dreamed of.
you first met minghao at the club a few months ago, when he came for a magazine shoot and his friends decided to take him out. the second you laid eyes on each other as you were walking around the main floor, he took you by the hand and soon you were dancing for him in front of everyone. it didn’t take long to convince minghao about getting a room, your body clenching around nothing as you think about how big and hard he was in those jeans when you started to grind on him, thanking the heavens that your outfit made it possible to feel everything.
😈: hao! yeah, i’m gonna be working tonight. pay for a room as soon as you get here and i’ll be waiting 😏
minghao: i’ll try and get there within the hour. see you soon babe ❤️
you quickly toss your phone to the side when you hear your name being called, realizing that you would just have to kill some time before you got your main event.
——
as soon as they get through the doors (an hour later like he said), minghao walks in with his entourage, his dress shirt buttons deliciously exposing some of his toned chest, and his black distressed jeans accenting his legs. met with some screams, he greets his crowd as his people make sure he’s given enough space.
the music has switched a bit, and more sultry, intimate tunes fill the building. your hips rotating in rhythm as mushroom chocolate’s chorus comes on, playing with the straps of your top as you flirt with the customer in front of you.
so immersed in your own world, you don’t even realize that minghao has finally spotted you and approaches your space, sitting down a few inches away from your audience. your eyes for a split second reveal your shock and surprise, and minghao can’t help the smirk that crawls on his face.
“did you think i wouldn’t show up? i’m hurt, my pretty little doll. you know i’m a man of my word.” you stop dancing and walk towards him, gingerly sitting his lap, both your legs on opposite sides of his.
“mmm, trust me, i know you are, you know it’s just been a minute since i’ve seen you hao.. you look different,” you trail off, eyes wandering all over his body. did his muscles get bigger or something?
“good different or bad different?” he asks.
but before you can respond, someone clears their throat. the person sitting across from you and minghao stares in disbelief. right… you still had someone to “take care” of. you sigh, kind of wishing that you had gone straight to a room so your time with minghao would’ve been interruption-free.
“give me a sec, hao,” you say crawling off his lap, missing the contact and approaching the other customer. “i’m sorry, but it looks like i have to cut this short,” you say feigning a fake disappointment. “but, if you decide to wait for me, i can guarantee it’ll be worth the wait,” you say taking the cash on the floor, bending over in front of the two, teasing them. obviously you don’t notice, but minghao bites his lip at the sight, hoping that he would get to see that again in the next few minutes.
when you’re done, you take him by the hand and the lead the way up the stairs to the vip rooms. you stop at the first empty one you see, brushing the curtains away as he lets go of your hand to face you.
“you never answered my question, y’know,” he says staring directly into your eyes. you stare back at him a little confused, already forgetting what he had said earlier.
he laughs, “wow, you forgot already? what’s going on doll?”
“nothing,” you say chuckling back at him, “i just, have a lot on my mind now.. and it’s mostly you..”
“oh? care to tell me more?” he says, putting his hand on your waist, bringing you closer to him.
“i guess to answer your question, it’s a good different… you’re always hot, but tonight, hao? you’re fucking irresistible,” you swipe your tongue across your lips, biting down on your skin.
“really now?” he smiles, his lips inches away from yours. but before you can say anything else, his mouth crashes on your soft, pillowy lips, trying to take in as much as he could of you.
you put your arms around his neck, trying to bring him in closer as you match his energy and enthusiasm. minghao’s hands begin to roam your body, especially your breasts. he couldn’t help but admire how temptingly delicious they looked in your bra piece. you moan into his touch at every little trace and brush, craving for more.
“mm, minghao!” you whimper when he get adventurous and delicately touches your crotch, and you clench yet again around nothing. you continue to moan out his name in bliss and neediness, but after a minute, an idea pops in your head.
“m-minghao, you wanna take this to the couch?” you say trying to snap him out of his daze for a second.
without another word, he sweeps you off your feet and carries you to the couch, your mouths still on each others. when he finally feels his legs against the edge of the furniture, he sits down, placing you on his lap.
not wanting to wait any longer, minghao takes off your bra, slowly revealing the top half of your body. he hisses at the sight, nearly groaning out at how the colorful lights in the room added to the glow that covered your body.
“you’re such a masterpiece,” he says as he once again guides his hands toward your body, this time paying extra attention to you chest.
while he was focused on that, you took to the opportunity to unbutton his jeans and pull his zipper down. he realizes where you wanted to go, and helps you get them, as well as his boxers off. once they both pool at his ankles, you smile when you can finally get to what you want after all the foreplay.
as you sink down on him, you both let out a loud moan feeling of being inside each other. “g-god, fuck,” you whisper into his ears clawing down his back, pressing into his chest. even though the music has long been forgotten to you, somehow your hips naturally grind to the rhythm. minghao notices and takes hold of your waist, guiding them in the right places. “god, you feel so good, baby,” he groans.
slowly but surely, you begin to feel a good pressure build in your core, your whimpering getting more frantic. “ahhh shit, shit, minghao, m-minghao,” you begin to move faster wanting to release all over him. and when he hits the right spot in you, you can no longer hold back, and you nearly scream, coming all over the lower half of his body.
you try and catch your breath, not wanting to come down from your high, but remembering you still had a job to do. “fuck, i needa go back downstairs soon,” you say getting up to find your bra top.
“do you have to go back now?” he asks, pulling his boxers and pants back up.
“well, not right this second,” you respond fastening your straps. “did you wanna stay a little longer?” you smile sweetly.
“yeah,” he says leaning back on the couch, returning your sultry gaze. “haven’t seen you dance for me in awhile,” he plams himself over his pants, already getting worked up at the memory.
you walk towards the pole, your arm holding onto the pole. “then minghao, be prepared for a dance you’ll never ever want to forget,” you say hooking your legs to spin on the pole.
❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, minghao










More of the boyfriend pictures series
HE AIN'T HITTING IT LIKE HE SUPPOSED TO HIT IT
pairings. xu minghao x female reader genre(s). smut
summary. at a party you find unexpected intimacy with minghao making you question your current relationship and discover what you truly need.
warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kissing, fingering, oral sex, protected penetrative sex, breakup, cheating?, emotional conflict -- if i missed anything lmk!




the hum of the party surrounds you as you step through the doorway, the bass from the speakers pulsing in time with your heartbeat. colorful lights dance across the crowded living room, where bodies move in sync with the music, laughter, and conversation blending into a cacophony of sound. you scan the room, spotting your boyfriend in the far corner, engaged in a heated debate with his friends. you sigh, the tension between you two hanging heavy over your head.
you refuse to have sex with him, a boundary he hasn’t been too understanding about. he thinks you’re not comfortable yet, which is partly true, but there’s more to it that you can’t quite put into words. it’s not just about being uncomfortable; there’s a fear that grips you every time you think about taking that step with him.
in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, you spot minghao. his aloof demeanor and intense gaze make him stand out even in the dim lighting. he’s always been a bit of an enigma, quiet and reserved, which only fuels your irritation towards him. tonight, you decide to approach him, a mix of curiosity and annoyance driving your steps.
you weave through the crowd, the heat from the bodies around you making the room feel warmer than it is. as you approach the kitchen, the chatter and laughter seem to fade into the background, leaving just the steady thrum of the music and your own heartbeat in your ears.
minghao stands there, seemingly lost in thought as he sips his drink. he doesn't notice you at first, and for a moment, you observe him. his expression is neutral, his eyes scanning the room with a certain detachment. he's always been like this, you think. aloof, almost distant. it irks you, this air of mystery he carries.
“hey, loner,” you tease, leaning against the counter beside him. the corners of your mouth twitch into a smirk as you try to catch his attention. “why so serious?”
minghao finally looks at you, his gaze cool and detached. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence between you stretching out. he takes another sip of his drink before responding. “just enjoying my drink,” he replies, his tone as blunt as ever.
you roll your eyes, taking a moment to study him. he’s dressed simply, yet there’s something about the way he carries himself that commands attention. you’ve never understood why he intrigues you so much, especially given how different he is from your usual type.
“always so mysterious,” you comment, your voice light, though there’s an underlying edge to your words. “what’s it like being the brooding artist of the group?”
he raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “what’s it like always needing to be the center of attention?”
you can’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprises even you. “touché,” you say, raising your own drink in a mock toast. “i guess we both have our roles to play.”
the banter feels comfortable, almost familiar. it’s strange, given how little you actually interact with minghao. your interactions are usually brief, marked by sarcastic remarks and quick retorts. tonight, though, there’s something different in the air.
“so,” you say, leaning in slightly, “why are you really here all alone? don’t tell me you’re avoiding everyone.”
he shrugs, his gaze drifting over the crowd. “sometimes it’s better to watch than to participate. you see more that way.”
you follow his gaze, the throng of partygoers a blur of movement and color. “and what do you see?”
his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—interest, perhaps?—before his expression smooths over again. “people pretending to be something they’re not. it’s entertaining.”
you scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “and you’re above all that?”
“i didn’t say that,” he replies, his tone neutral. “just that it’s easier to see when you’re not in the middle of it.”
there’s a brief silence as you process his words. you’ve always thought of minghao as...detached, maybe even a bit pretentious, but tonight he seems more… grounded. it’s disarming, and you find yourself wanting to know more.
“you know,” you say, your voice softer now, “i always thought you were kind of a jerk. but maybe i was wrong.”
he chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “maybe you were. or maybe i am, and you’re just starting to see it.”
you laugh, shaking your head. “well, if you are, you hide it well.”
there’s another pause, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. you’re not sure what it is, but it makes your pulse quicken.
“so, what about you?” he asks suddenly, his gaze piercing. “why are you really here? with a boyfriend who doesn’t seem to pay you much attention?”
the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. you glance over at your boyfriend, still engrossed in his conversation, oblivious to your absence.
“i don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i’m just trying to figure things out.”
minghao’s expression softens, and he leans in closer. “figure what out?”
you take a deep breath, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. “why i’m with someone who doesn’t understand me. why i can’t bring myself to be… intimate with him.”
he studies you for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. “your boyfriend probably doesn’t even know the way you taste.”
your breath hitches, the bluntness of his statement hitting you harder than you’d like to admit. you laugh it off, though the sound is hollow. “yeah, true,” you sigh, surprising even yourself with your honesty.
minghao's eyes narrow slightly, curiosity evident in his gaze. "what, really? why?"
you feel a mix of irritation and vulnerability. his directness is unnerving, and you can't decide whether you appreciate it or hate it. "scared," you mutter, turning your eyes away from him, focusing instead on the rim of your drink. the conversation suddenly feels too real, too raw.
he frowns, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "scared of what?"
your fingers tighten around your glass, the condensation making your skin slick. "too many questions," you reply, your voice strained. you take a large sip of your drink, the alcohol burning down your throat. "i'm going to go dance."
you push away from the counter, your heart pounding in your chest as you head towards the makeshift dance floor. the music engulfs you, the bass vibrating through your body. you lose yourself in the rhythm, the world narrowing down to the beat and the movement of your limbs. for a moment, you manage to forget the piercing gaze of minghao, the weight of his questions lingering in the back of your mind.
you spot mingyu in the crowd, his tall frame and easy smile drawing you in like a magnet. he's talking with a group of friends, but his eyes light up when he sees you approaching. you feel a surge of confidence, the alcohol making you bolder, more uninhibited.
"hey, mingyu," you say, your voice a little louder than necessary to be heard over the music.
he turns to you, his smile widening. "hey, y/n! having fun?"
"trying to," you reply with a grin. "dance with me?"
he doesn't need to be asked twice. mingyu wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you start to move to the beat. his movements are smooth and effortless, and you find yourself matching his rhythm easily. the music is loud, the bass pulsing through your veins as you lose yourself in the dance.
you throw your arms around his neck, leaning in closer as the song shifts to a slower, more sensual beat. the room seems to blur around you, your focus narrowing down to the feel of mingyu's hands on your waist, the warmth of his body against yours.
for a moment, it feels like nothing else matters. you can forget about your boyfriend, about minghao's piercing questions. all that exists is the music and the movement, the way your body responds to mingyu's touch.
but then, through the haze of the dance floor, you catch sight of minghao again. he's standing at the edge of the room, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. there's something unreadable in his expression—concern, perhaps, or maybe something deeper. you can't tell, and it frustrates you.
you try to shake off the feeling, focusing instead on mingyu. "you're a good dancer," you say, your voice breathy.
he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "thanks. you're not so bad yourself."
you laugh, the sound mingling with the music. but even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. it's as if minghao's gaze is a physical presence, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.
the sensation intensifies, becoming almost unbearable. you open your eyes to see minghao still standing there, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. there's a moment of silent communication between you, something passing between you that you can't quite identify.
before you can react, minghao is beside you, his presence commanding. he gently but firmly places a hand on your arm, pulling you away from mingyu with a surprising amount of strength. "come on," he says, his voice steady but leaving no room for argument. "you need to sober up."
"hey!" you protest, trying to pull away. "i'm fine!"
minghao doesn't relent, his grip firm but not painful as he leads you through the crowd and up the stairs. each step feels like a small battle, the alcohol in your system making your movements sluggish and your thoughts hazy. you barely notice the curious looks from other partygoers as minghao guides you to the second floor.
he opens a door at the end of the hallway, revealing a guest bedroom, and gently but insistently guides you inside. the room is dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaos downstairs. the silence is almost deafening, broken only by the distant thrum of the music.
minghao closes the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding strangely final. you sway slightly on your feet, the room spinning around you as you try to get your bearings. he places a steadying hand on your arm, his touch grounding you.
“sit down,” he instructs, guiding you to the edge of the bed. you sink down onto the mattress, the soft surface a welcome relief.
he crouches in front of you, his eyes level with yours. there’s a seriousness in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. he reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “drink this,” he says firmly. “you need to sober up.”
you take the bottle from him, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. you bring it to your lips, taking a small sip at first, then a larger one as the refreshing liquid slides down your throat. it feels like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.
“what?” you ask, catching the intense look in his eyes.
“nothing,” he mutters, flopping back on the bed and pulling out his phone, the blue light illuminating his features.
you frown, turning to look at him. “you’re just going to lay on some random guy’s bed?”
“can’t really give a shit, but i think this is the guest room,” he replies, still focused on his phone.
you nod, a small “oh” escaping your lips. the silence stretches out between you, filled only by the muffled sounds of the party downstairs. you take another sip of water, feeling the fog in your mind slowly start to lift.
you lean back on your hands, your gaze drifting to the ceiling. “why did you bring me here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
minghao glances at you, his expression unreadable. “because you were about to make a mistake,” he says simply.
you furrow your brow, confusion and frustration warring within you. “what mistake?”
he sits up, his phone forgotten as he turns to face you fully. “you were drunk and about to do something you’d regret. i didn’t want to see you get hurt.”
his words hit you harder than you expected, a mixture of relief and irritation flooding your system. “i can take care of myself,” you snap, though the conviction in your voice wavers.
“i know you can,” he replies calmly. “but sometimes it’s okay to let someone else look out for you.”
you stare at him, the weight of his words settling over you. there’s an honesty in his gaze that’s disarming, and for the first time tonight, you feel a flicker of gratitude towards him.
“thank you,” you say softly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.
he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “anytime.”
the silence that follows is different—less charged, more comfortable. you take another sip of water, the clarity returning to your thoughts as the alcohol’s grip begins to loosen.
after a minute, a sudden surge of boldness washes over you. the silence stretches, filled with unspoken tension. you glance at minghao, his focus seemingly back on his phone, but you can feel the subtle shifts in his attention, the way his eyes flicker toward you when he thinks you aren't looking.
you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. the alcohol has dulled your inhibitions, but the clarity from the water has given you a strange sense of purpose. with a determined exhale, you shift your position, moving to straddle his waist. the motion is deliberate, and it catches him off guard.
minghao's phone slips from his hand, forgotten, as he leans up immediately. one hand instinctively goes to your waist, his grip firm and grounding. his eyes search yours, curiosity and amusement mingling in their depths.
“what’re you doing?” he asks, his voice low and tinged with genuine curiosity.
your heart races, the intensity of the moment making you acutely aware of every sensation—the warmth of his hand on your waist, the rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the way his breath mingles with yours. you hold onto his shoulders, the contact grounding you as you lean down, bringing your face inches from his.
“if i’m being honest… you look really good tonight—and i’m horny,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of desire and nerves.
minghao's laugh is rich and warm, a sound that reverberates through your body. his grip on your waist tightens slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the charged atmosphere between you. “what happened to you being scared?” he teases, his eyes darkening with interest.
you swallow hard, your gaze dropping to his lips before meeting his eyes again. the closeness is intoxicating, the tension palpable. “well… it’s you,” you whisper, the words hanging in the air between you. “you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”
for a moment, time seems to stand still. the room around you fades away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this electrifying moment. then, as if pulled by an irresistible force, your lips finally meet.
the kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. it starts tentatively, both of you testing the waters, but quickly escalates. it’s hungry, desperate, and filled with a passion that takes you both by surprise. minghao’s hand slides from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might disappear.
the world outside this room ceases to exist. there’s only the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, the way his breath hitches when you press closer. the kiss is messy, your lips and tongues clashing in a dance that feels both frenzied and perfectly synchronized.
minghao shifts beneath you, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, angling you for better access. you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you and spurring you both on. he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting heavily.
“y/n,” he murmurs, your name a soft plea on his lips.
you don’t respond with words. instead, you kiss him again, your lips moving with more urgency, more need. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared desire—the rustle of clothing, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic beat of your heart pounding in your ears.
minghao’s hands are everywhere, mapping out the curves of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, the contact of his skin against yours sending a shiver down your spine. you arch into his touch, craving more, needing more.
he flips you onto your back, his movements fluid and purposeful. his lips trail down your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive skin, each touch making you gasp and writhe beneath him. his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until you lift your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head and discard it.
“beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes raking over your exposed skin with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.
you reach for him, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. he helps you, shrugging out of the fabric and tossing it aside. your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. it’s overwhelming, the intensity of your desire for him, the way every nerve in your body seems to be alight with need.
the kiss deepens, becoming sloppy and filled with need. minghao's lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. his tongue teases your lower lip before delving deeper, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. each kiss feels like it's pulling you further into a vortex of passion, leaving you craving more.
his hand slides up your thigh, the touch light and teasing at first, sending shivers down your spine. the heat of his palm against your skin ignites a fire within you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. he pauses for a moment, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt, making you gasp.
minghao's eyes meet yours, a silent question lingering in their depths. you nod, giving him the permission he seeks. with a swift but gentle motion, he flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against yours, is both grounding and electrifying.
his lips leave a trail of fire down your neck, each kiss deliberate and sensual. you arch your back, giving him better access as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. he nips at the skin, eliciting a soft moan from you, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
minghao's hand continues its journey, slipping under your skirt and trailing up the inside of your thigh. his touch is firm but gentle, his fingers exploring the soft skin with a reverence that makes you tremble. he pauses again, his eyes locking with yours as his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your underwear.
“you’re so responsive,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “it’s driving me crazy.”
you bite your lip, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues to tease you. “minghao, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.
his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “patience,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your collarbone. “i want to savor this.”
his fingers slide under the fabric, finding your wetness. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand as he expertly teases you, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. his thumb circles your clit, the pressure light and teasing, driving you to the edge but never quite letting you tip over.
“minghao,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might pull away. “i need you.”
he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reactions. “i’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
he slips a finger inside you, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. you gasp, your body arching into his touch, every nerve ending on fire. he moves slowly at first, his finger exploring your depths with a gentleness that makes you ache for more. he adds another finger, stretching you, filling you, each movement deliberate and controlled.
his lips find yours again, the kiss a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. you lose yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him, every touch and every kiss pushing you closer to the edge. he moves his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your clit, the dual sensations driving you wild.
“please,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper, the need for release consuming you. “i need to come.”
minghao’s eyes meet yours, a flicker of something soft and caring in their depths. “not yet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a barely-there kiss. “i want to watch you fall apart.”
he increases the pace of his fingers, each thrust hitting just the right spot, his thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit. you feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.
“please,” you beg again, your voice a desperate plea.
with a final, skillful flick of his fingers, he pushes you over the edge. you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing over you in an intense, all-consuming rush. minghao doesn’t stop, his fingers and thumb continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your pleasure, making you see stars.
he watches you the entire time, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. “you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
when you finally come down from the high, your body trembling and spent, he gently withdraws his fingers, his touch soothing as he caresses your thigh. you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and hazy with satisfaction.
“minghao,” you whisper, reaching out to him, needing the connection, the closeness.
he leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “i’m here,” he whispers against your lips. “i’m not going anywhere.”
you pull him closer, your fingers trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. he inhales sharply as you undo the button and slide the zipper down, your touch sending a shiver through him.
he stands up briefly, the absence of his warmth leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. his movements are hurried, but there’s a grace to them that you can’t help but admire. the way his muscles flex under his skin as he discards his clothes is mesmerizing, each motion deliberate and efficient. you watch him, your heart pounding in anticipation, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him.
minghao’s shirt falls to the floor first, followed by his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. the dim light casts shadows across his body, highlighting the defined lines of his muscles. he glances at you, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slides them down. you can’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drinking in every inch of him.
when he’s finally free of his clothes, he stands there for a moment, the weight of the moment hanging between you. the raw vulnerability of being completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, is almost overwhelming. you reach out to him, your fingers trailing lightly over his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch.
he shivers slightly, his breath hitching as your fingers brush against him. he reaches for a condom from his discarded pants, tearing the packet open with his teeth. the sound is loud in the quiet room, a sharp contrast to the softness of the moment. he rolls it on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours.
minghao lowers himself over you, his body a comforting weight, his skin warm against yours. he pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle and filled with concern.
you nod, your heart swelling with affection and desire. “i’m sure,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions coursing through you.
he positions himself at your entrance, the tip of him pressing against your wetness. he pushes in slowly, the sensation both familiar and entirely new. you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely, the stretch a delicious burn. the world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly.
minghao moves slowly at first, his thrusts measured and controlled. he’s giving you time to adjust, to savor the sensation of being connected in such an intimate way. each movement is deliberate, his eyes locked on yours, watching for your reactions. the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s so attuned to your needs, makes your heart swell with emotion.
as you grow accustomed to the feel of him, you begin to move with him, matching his rhythm. the pace quickens, each thrust deeper and more urgent. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure—the slap of skin against skin, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic pounding of your heart.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more, craving more. he responds with a thrust that hits just the right spot, making you cry out his name. “minghao,” you moan, your nails dragging down his back, leaving faint red trails.
he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “come for me, y/n,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough with need.
with a final thrust, you shatter, the orgasm washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent. minghao follows soon after, his release spilling into the condom, his body tensing and then relaxing against yours. the feeling of him filling you, even with the barrier between you, is overwhelmingly intimate, a physical manifestation of the connection you feel.
the room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the party downstairs and the sound of your breathing as you both come down from the high of your shared experience. minghao's weight shifts beside you, his warmth a comforting presence in the cool room.
he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender. his fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before he speaks. “you okay?” he asks, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern.
you take a moment to gather your thoughts, the reality of what just happened beginning to sink in. “yeah,” you breathe, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m okay.”
relief washes over his features, and he nods, his eyes never leaving yours. he pulls away slightly, his movements slow and careful as he disposes of the condom, his actions methodical and precise. you watch him, feeling a strange sense of intimacy in the mundane act.
when he returns to the bed, he lays beside you, his presence a comforting weight. he props himself up on one elbow, his gaze soft as he looks at you. there’s a moment of silence, filled with the unspoken emotions and thoughts swirling between you.
minghao breaks the silence, his voice serious but gentle. “we can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” his words are a request and a plea, the gravity of the situation clear in his eyes.
you take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “whatever,” you mutter, feeling a mix of emotions. the reality of what just happened is complex, a blend of relief, confusion, and something else you can’t quite identify. “thanks for the first time,” you add, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.
a soft laugh escapes his lips, the sound soothing in the quiet room. “anytime,” he replies, his eyes softening as he looks at you. there’s a warmth in his gaze, a depth of emotion that makes your heart ache in a way you can’t quite explain.
you both lay there in silence for a while, the quiet moments stretching out, filled with the unspoken understanding between you. the reality of what just happened is starting to settle, the magnitude of the shift in your relationship becoming clear.
minghao’s fingers find yours, his touch light and reassuring. he squeezes your hand gently, a silent promise that he’s here for you, that this moment meant something to him too. you squeeze back, the simple gesture conveying more than words ever could.
you turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “this changes things, doesn’t it?” you whisper, the question hanging in the air between you.
he nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, it does,” he admits, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and hope. “but maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
you ponder his words, the truth of them resonating deep within you. the dynamic between you has shifted, the lines between enemies and something more becoming blurred. it’s a lot to take in, but there’s a part of you that feels a strange sense of contentment, a sense of rightness in what just happened.
as the minutes tick by, the silence becomes more comfortable, the tension easing into a shared understanding. you both know that things won’t be the same after tonight, but there’s a sense of anticipation, of curiosity about what the future holds.
minghao’s eyes grow heavy, and you can see the fatigue setting in. “we should probably get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice soft and drowsy.
you nod, feeling the exhaustion creeping into your own limbs. “yeah, you’re right,” you agree, snuggling closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence.
he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his embrace. the feeling of his body against yours is reassuring, a silent promise that he’s here with you, that you’re not alone. you close your eyes, the events of the night replaying in your mind as you drift off to sleep.
the night passes slowly, filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the warmth of minghao’s embrace. when you wake in the morning, the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains, you feel a sense of calm, of clarity.
you glance over at minghao, his face peaceful in sleep, and you wonder how this will change things between you. there's a part of you that’s excited, that’s hopeful for what the future holds. but there’s also a realization that you can’t ignore: your current relationship with your boyfriend isn’t right for you.
the thought of breaking up with him has crossed your mind before, but it’s never been as clear as it is now. last night made you realize that you deserve to be with someone who understands you, someone who makes you feel safe and cherished. someone like minghao.
quietly, you slip out of minghao’s embrace, careful not to wake him. you sit up in bed, watching him for a moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing your anxious thoughts. leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent thank you for everything he’s shown you, for the clarity he’s brought to your life.
minghao stirs slightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips, but he doesn’t wake. you smile softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face before you slip out of bed. the room is cool, and you shiver as you gather your clothes, dressing quickly and quietly.
before you leave, you take one last look at minghao, a sense of determination settling over you. you know what you have to do, and you’re ready to face it. you’re ready to make a change, to pursue something real and meaningful.
as you step out of the room and close the door softly behind you, the reality of what you need to do sinks in. you pull out your phone, staring at the screen for a moment at the spam messages he sent last night.
boyfriend: baby? boyfriend: yo where you at? boyfriend: people are telling me they saw you leave with that guy you claim to hate wtf??? boyfriend: IM WORRIED. IM GOING HOME. YOU BETTER CALL ME!
you sighed, before typing out a message to your boyfriend. it’s not an easy message to send, but it’s necessary.
you: we need to talk. you: i think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.

© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

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₊ ⊹☼ Pairing: The8/Xu Minghao x reader ₊ ⊹☼ Synopsis: Multiple chance encounters across lives, with a soul somehow fated to yours throughout ₊ ⊹☼ Genre: Reincarnation au, slight fantasy/historic au ₊ ⊹☼ Word count: 1.67k ₊ ⊹☼ Warnings: Mentions of death, loss and grief. Minor character death mentions ₊ ⊹☼ A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while as I didn't feel that the story was done yet. However, it's at a good point right now to post. Maybe I'll return to add to it further at one point though.
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Loss is an emptiness that eats away at the soul, a metaphorical knife carving it’s design on the surface but leaving behind wounds deep enough to bleed. And the strange thing about loss is you let it. In a sense it’s a sickly beautiful thing to experience as the blood pours out staining over the pure memories and taints them to be forever red. A crimson red that’s the same as the heart that somehow still beats inside your chest, because while it feels like everything should be still, time moves on. Time still encourages hearts to beat and wounds to bleed.
And bleed they do…
Your first loss shouldn’t be considered that actually. There are so many factors that completely contradict it as “the first loss you experienced”. For a start, you had lost people before. A woman who never had the chance to be a mother, your mother, passing away before she got even a second with her child. A young boy, who once you considered a brother, starved under the night sky with his eyes locked onto the moon. After all, Grief was no stranger to your soul. He visited often and settled in your bones like a heavy sick reminder of life.
No, none of these was your first loss. A kind of deep grief, yes, but they felt inevitable somehow.
Your first loss came in a form you never expected. A loss of opportunity and the questions of what could have been. Leaving the first scar of many dotted over your skin.
You didn’t know his name the first time, you barely got to know him at all actually. It was a fleeting moment that stopped the world if just for a second. Even if it was just for you.
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The makeshift grave you created when Chan died was positioned out in a forest glade on the edge of town, giving him the privacy and peace he deserved. An ideal place for him to continue watching the night sky like he did when he was tangible, and now as a star, a place for him to look down on from above. It seems childish now thinking that was how the world worked, that he would stick around for you.
You know better now.
You had been spending the afternoon visiting him, after collecting flowers for your little stall, coming to rest up in the willow tree sheltering the glade from the outside view. The branches allowing you a raised position to look down below, which is how you spotted him initially. This dark haired beauty dressed in clothes that didn’t seem typical for that of normal adventurers. You assumed that’s what he must be, no one else tends to come out that far. Somehow, he had stumbled onto Chan’s clearing though, only the fates may know how, and came to a pause in front of the poorly carved headstone you placed on the first death anniversary. It didn’t matter that there was no body to bury, his memory would live on.
Something about that resonated in this figure’s mind. It wasn’t obvious at first but moments later when you got the first glimpse at his soul-bearing eyes and the way they scanned the words told you all you needed. He was memorising the words, breathing out his very essence into the world and immortalising this time. The phrase you had heard many times before bringing tears to your eyes as it was spoken out loud after a year again.
“The moon sure is lonely tonight”. He was just reading out loud that time, but maybe that’s why it left such an impact. There were no deeper connotations or commitments that suffocated the moment. It was raw and real.
If given the chance of every lifetime, you would chose to return to this moment eternally.
He left not long after that with a new print on his soul in the name of Lee Chan and the fleeting thoughts of a phrase once whispered. It wasn’t until afterwards that you saw the carefully placed bundle of forget-me-nots. Flowers that symbolise memorises and the concept of thinking of loved one ones while one is away. You don’t remember ever have crying as hard as you did that night as you allowed yourself to break down after having repressed everything for a long time. The hope that someone else would continue to think of the young boy and maybe one day return providing a sort of comfort you never realised you needed.
You continued with your routines and visits but never once saw the stranger again. Your first loss came unexpectedly and you couldn’t help but think of what could have happened if things were different. Had Chan been alive to greet him? Had you spoken out to him? Had you got to know him? But you didn’t and so the opportunity passed by and life continued until death came to claim you too.
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What you didn’t expect was the life that came after and the memories that flickered back to you slowly. You could remember it all clearly at first but the more time progressed and lives were lived, the hazier things became. So you wrote to remember. Diary entries inked across pages depicting and detailing each moment and connection you continued to share.
It took you a total of three lives to realise you and your stranger were somehow connected. You seemed destined to spot him under the moonlight over and over again, each time bringing something new for you to note.
However, it was your fourth life that something truly changed, with an opportunity for the two of you to introduce yourselves. A night-time balcony overlooking the palace gardens providing a shared relief from the noise of the party inside. You had yet to see your stranger that lifetime and you certainly weren’t expecting to find him approaching you from behind on his own escape from the ballroom.
Your eyes had found comfort in the solitude of the starlit sky, with a faint recollection of a young voice discussing constellations in great enthusiasm. Your body curled up onto the stone edge with the coldness contrasting to the heat radiating from the party inside. There had been no mention of the balcony being off limits but it seemed abandoned in that moment similar to how you felt. Maybe that is why when you heard the small thuds of footsteps approaching you assumed it was a guard coming to bring you inside. However, as you turned around to face them, your breath stalled inside your throat.
There he was…
Face to face, the moments that followed allowed you both to subtly scan each other’s figures, sharing a second of joint solitude. His clothes reflecting his obviously high social status, yet you naturally found yourself focusing on his deep, knowledgeable eyes. The ones that both equally haunted and comforted your thoughts. Then he spoke and his light voice rung out in a whisper like he was afraid to break the silence.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I needed some time away from the chaos and couldn’t help but notice you out here alone with only the moon for company. You both seemed rather lonely tonight. Would you mind me joining you?”
The paraphrasing of the familiar line rang in your ears as you couldn’t help but tear up and turn back to the full moon in an attempt for comfort.
“Not at all, feel free to join us.”
His figure stepping closer as he approached the balcony edge himself and admired the view before the two of you. It was a comfortable silence that followed, neither of you feeling the need to fill it with meaningless chatter at first. However, as you turned to gain another glance at him, wanting to capture every detail for your writing later on, your gaze fell onto the baby blue flowers that lay in his pocket.
“Forget-me-nots?”
As he turned to meet your eyes, he saw the way they lingered onto his flowers and then noticed the similar ones decorated into your own outfit.
“Hmm, there is something special about the resilience of these little blossoms which bloom in clusters throughout marshy harsh terrain. In a sense I admire the way they manage to preserve and grow with those tough conditions. It’s something I often see reflected in humanity, although, unlike the flowers, not often do people manage to make it full bloom I find.”
The philosophical answer was not one you had expected from him, but certainly wasn’t unwelcome. You had your own greater meanings to the flowers that you shared back with careful consideration, still unsure of if your stranger retained his memories like you. It was something you noted in a previous life where you tried to speak to a different Chan and was left alone once more, that not everyone had the privilege, or was it a curse, to remember like you do.
“For me, they symbolise remembering those who once were but no longer are. A promise to keep the memories of them alive for as long as you live. The stories you experienced and the thoughts you shared allowing a part of them to stay.”
Silence settled back down between the two of you, which is why you could hear the song that started to play out by the band. A slow dance of sorts. In some twist of destiny, he reached his hand out and asked for your hand before the two of you spent time twirling across the balcony. This moment shared only by you two and the sky.
As you came to a close and the clocks chimed to signal an hour passing, with you settled in your stranger’s arms, two names were breathed out into the universe before you parted ways and he disappeared back into the ball.
“Xu Minghao.”
A name meaning brightness and vastness, one that seemed to fit the person you came to spend time with perfectly.
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