Winter Walk🦆

a/n HEYYY GUYS IM TRYING TO UPLOAD BUT I CANT DO IT AS FREQUENT ANYMORE IM SORRY

・❥・✎ intro → masterlist → taglist ✎ ・❥・

Moving in together in their new apartment.

"Slice" of life ;)

(Xu Minghao x FemReader)

*a story full of tenderness, quiet affection, and that gentle warmth that is known for. It keeps things heartfelt, romantic, and wholesome.*

It had been two years since you and Minghao got married. Life wasn’t always smooth your schedules clashed, the world kept demanding too much, and sometimes, you both got tired. But one thing never changed: Minghao’s soft spot for you.

It was the little things.

Like how he made your tea just the way you liked it, even if he had a hundred things to do. Like how he’d silently pull you into his arms when you seemed on the verge of shutting down from stress, not saying a word just letting his presence be enough. Like how he’d whisper, “You’ve done enough for today. Let me take care of the rest.”

That morning, you were curled on the couch in one of his oversized shirts, sleep still clinging to your eyes. You didn’t hear him come in he had gone out to buy your favorite pastries from the shop across town. Minghao didn’t tell you, didn’t make a big deal about it. He just walked over, placed the warm bag in front of you, and smiled.

“You didn’t eat well yesterday,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “You remembered?”

His smile turned fond. “I always remember the things that matter.”

It wasn’t grand gestures. Minghao’s love showed up in quiet ways a hand on your lower back in crowds, subtle glances across the room when you were overwhelmed, the way he always made sure to hold your hand in public because “if I don’t, I miss you more than I can explain.”

Sometimes, at night, you’d be curled up in bed together, your head on his chest, his fingers gently stroking your back.

“I don’t know how I got this lucky,” you whispered once.

He laughed softly. “You think you’re the lucky one? I wake up next to the love of my life every day.”

You shifted, snuggling into him deeper. “You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he teased.

He always let you rest in him emotionally, physically, completely. And in return, you became his peace too. A shared sanctuary.

Even when he was busy with his art or practice, he’d always check in. A quick text. A voice note. A flower placed on your desk. A sticky note on the mirror: “Have you smiled today? I love you.”

No matter how chaotic the world was, Minghao made it his mission to be the calm in yours.

One night, when you were both dancing in the living room to a slow ballad playing from your speaker, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, “If I had to live a hundred lives, I’d find you in every one of them.”

It had been a quiet few weeks. Minghao had been busy with overseas schedules, and you had been working nonstop yourself. Even when you two were in the same room, your moments together felt like passing trains full of love, but constantly on the move.

So when Minghao walked into the room holding a small envelope, eyes lit with mischief, you already knew something was up.

“Pack a bag,” he said with a grin. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

You blinked. “Wait, what? Where?”

He simply shrugged. “Somewhere peaceful. Just us.”

You wanted to argue you had emails to respond to, things to finish but the way he looked at you with that soft, patient smile stopped you.

So you packed.

The drive was long but comforting. Minghao had made a playlist of songs that made you both smile from indie ballads to silly tracks you’d danced to at 2 a.m. in the kitchen. The destination turned out to be a cozy villa by the coast quiet, tucked away from everything, with large windows that opened up to the sound of waves.

That night, after you two had eaten, you lay on the deck together watching the stars. Minghao had his head on your shoulder, arm wrapped protectively around your waist. The moonlight danced in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” you whispered.

He turned to you gently. “Mm?”

You sat up slowly and reached into your hoodie pocket, heart racing. You handed him a small, carefully folded card on it was a sketch of two adult penguins holding flippers… and a tiny one between them.

His eyes widened slightly as he opened it. Inside, in your handwriting:

“Coming soon — the littlest Xu.”

Minghao didn’t speak at first. He just stared at the card, eyes glistening in disbelief.

“Wait,” he said, voice shaking. “You’re—?”

You nodded, tears slipping quietly down your cheeks. “Seven weeks.”

He set the card down, reached for your face with both hands, and kissed you deeply not urgently, but with so much emotion that your heart swelled.

When he finally pulled away, his hands were still trembling.

“I’ve never loved you more than I do right now,” he whispered. “I didn’t even know it was possible.”

You both sat in silence for a while, overwhelmed but full of joy. He rested his forehead against yours again, and you could feel his smile even in the dark.

“You’re going to be the best dad,” you whispered.

“And you,” he said softly, “you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. And more.”

For the rest of the night, he didn’t let go of you once. He kept one hand over your belly protectively, gently rubbing circles as if he were already calming your baby from the outside.

“I’ll protect this family with everything I am,” he said.

And you believed him. Because Minghao’s love didn’t need grand declarations. It lived in the quiet in every soft word, every gentle hand, every look that told you: You are where I rest. And I will always come home to you.

part2?