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wonustars · 6 months ago

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𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader 𖥔 wordcount: 19.0k 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: nonidol!au, ex-mafia!mingyu, househusband!mingyu, afab!reader, catmom!reader, neighbour!verkwan, marshall officer!junhui and jihoon, ex-fiancè! seungcheol, fake marriage, mingyu loves to garden, mingyu has a large dragon tattoo on his back that is barely mentioned, mentions of the show Bluey and the movie Twilight, lots of domesticity and house work talk.

𖥔 note: i got this fic done earlier than expected but i have LOTS of people to thank because they are a huge part of why i was even able to get it done. firstly to my beta-readers, thank you, you were all so helpful and i really wouldn't have it done without you all @gyuswhore , @highvern , and @onlyhuis ♡. thank you to @wooahaeproductions , @hannieween , and june (again) for allowing me to put a cameo of you all in the fic! a big thank you to all the people who sent asks that helped me write some of the scenes in the story. thank you to a lot of the @svthub members who helped sm with this fic, esp @ourdawnishotterthanourday, @bitchlessdino, @seokgyuu, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil !! i couldn't have done it without you all and i'm so grateful ♡. i worked really hard on this fic and i've been talking about it for so long, so thank you to all of you who interacted with my posts and waited so patiently. i appreciate every single one of you and i hope you enjoy this story because i really love it too :). see you soonest - anna ♡.

𖥔 some songs i listened to while writing: lagi - bini, i wish - seventeen, sunny day - beabadoobee, chocolate - seventeen vocal unit. 𖥔 masterlist

-> smut tags/ warnings under the cut (18+ mdni!)

𖥔 smut tags: dom!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected penetrative p in v sex (don't do it!), breeding kink, multiple rounds, multiple positons, creampie, spanking, choking (barely), oral (f.receiving), spitting, pet names (reader: baby, wife) (mingyu: baby). 𖥔 warnings: mentions of weapon and drug trafficking, violence, reader is paranoid and anxious from time to time, a lot of inaccurate talk about legal stuff and witness protection, everything listed is talked about with as very little detail as possible.

The tension in the air is thick, not one word was uttered the whole car ride.

Everything still felt surreal, especially because the person you’re forced to live with for the next year is someone you aren’t particularly fond of.

When you were told that you’d be put into witness protection due to your ex-fiance’s mafia bust, you didn’t expect that it would be spent with his right-hand man. The same man who you watched execute heinous acts under the volition of your ex. It wasn’t his fault that he had to carry out orders, but witnessing him unleash his wrath onto others was enough for you to steer clear of him.

You aren’t one to judge, especially because you were to be wed to the mafia boss himself. You knew he was partaking in shady business, but you didn’t know that innocent people’s lives were included in his scheme to make more money.

“I think we’re here,” Mingyu breaks the silence for the first time since you entered the car.

Your attention is brought to the large sign that is displayed in front of the gated community. The words “Bridgewater Heights” are plastered to the high cement wall that surrounds the area. A part of you is glad that it at least looks like a secure place to live and bougie too; the gated entrance requiring a passcode with guards sitting at the doors screamed wealth.

Never in your life did you think you were going to be living in such an expensive-looking place. Even when you were still dating Seungcheol, who had money raining down on him constantly, you never desired this lifestyle. Maybe it was because you never understood the want to live in the suburbs, the city suited you better anyway.

Those initial thoughts are offset as you stare out the car window. children happily playing in the streets, the sun shining down on them, their laughter seeping through the cracks of the car door as they skip around. Everything here seems so cheerful. you wonder if you could begin to find that type of joy if you stay here long enough too.

As you approach the house you are forced to stay in, you realize that it looks like every other one in the neighbourhood. Large, modern, and painfully identical to your neighbours. A white picket fence lining the yard, with a front-facing garage that perfectly fits two cars. Large windows and a wrap-around porch tie it all together. You couldn’t help but be amazed at how grand everything looks, the difference is drastic from your cozy apartment back in the city.

An audible gulp goes down your throat. It didn’t start feeling real till now, especially because you spent the hour-long car ride daydreaming about your old home. Reading a book on the couch while stroking your cat, Norbert’s fur. His purring in the back seat calms you down, but not enough that you can accept your fate of living with Mingyu for the next year.

Your now “husband” parks in the driveway before popping the trunk open to unload the suitcases that carried half of your life. All your clothes, books, and trinkets are all sized down to sixty kilograms. It upset you to take only your most important things, but if it meant you’d be safe from your ex, you knew you had no choice but to agree.

As you opened the door to your new home, your heart began to pound in your chest.

You watched as Mingyu continued to haul everything from the car into the house; his large biceps bulging through his white tee as he carried the box that caged your now whining cat. Norbert’s meowing becomes more agitated with every passing second he spends in his carrier case, the guilty feeling pools in your stomach as his meows turn into cries. You hated keeping him in one place for long, especially for long car rides.

Norbert has always been an active cat, running around, and exploring your old neighbourhood, and at the end of the day, he always came back. At night you two spent hours cuddling while you read your books; sometimes reading the words aloud as if your cat could understand what you were saying.

Mingyu finishes up with the last of the boxes, taking a step back to look at the new house in all its glory. His hands on his hips as he sighs, admiring the work that had gone into building the house. You didn’t understand why he found the craftsmanship so interesting, but you decided not to think too hard about it.

He turns to you with an apprehensive smile, his eyes glinting in the sun, “Home sweet home, I guess.”

two.

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward, to say the least. Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homey" as possible.

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye candy, even though he wore his pink Shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn.

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in.

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal.

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully.

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of forty-plus-year-old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratched the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him goodbye, curious as to what the group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers, isn’t it?

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raise a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it.

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand.

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him.

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check-up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house.

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyway, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden.

From across the yard, neither you nor Mingyu notices Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awkward for newlyweds, he thinks to himself.

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book.

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “Huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?”

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.

three.

“So, how’s the house? Do you guys have everything you need?” Jihoon asks over the phone.

Being the marshall officer assigned to your case, he would take time out of his hectic workday to check up on you and Mingyu. You still remember the first time he had contacted you, informing you about your ex escaping a planned police raid. The rhythmic beating of your heart stopped the moment those words left Jihoon’s lips, and the fear of Seungcheol showing up at your home unannounced at any moment doubled within a second.

You didn’t want to leave everything behind, especially because of how hard it was for you to build a life for yourself in your old city. But the other half of you was scared at the possibility of Seungcheol finding out about your new apartment and your new job; it was all too risky.

Now that you’re here, a part of you wonders what you would have said if Jihoon told you that Mingyu was the man they were going to put into witness protection alongside yourself. Maybe if you knew from the beginning you would’ve refused, or at least asked to be placed somewhere that allowed you to be alone.

“It’s fine Jihoon, we’ve unpacked everything, but our neighbours are quite noisy if I’m being honest,” you sigh, petting Norbert in your lap as you answer all of his questions.

The first day you and Mingyu moved in, your neighbour Seungkwan took it upon himself to introduce you to Bridgwater. Not only did he give you the rundown of every family that lived on your block, but he also became very curious about you and Mingyu. Seungkwan’s questions hit you back to back as if you were being interviewed, and you don’t even remember how you answered any of them.

“Who’s the handsome one carrying all your things?”

“Oh, that’s your husband? How long have you been married? How did you two meet?”

“Do you two have any kids? No? Oh what a shame, this neighbourhood is filled with them. Does your husband have a twin brother? Don’t tell Vernon I said that — just joking!”

“Oh, who’s Vernon? He’s my boyfriend, he’s in the house somewhere, anyways why did you two decide to move to Bridgwater?”

The questions went on for what felt like forever and before you knew it Mingyu had finished unpacking the first floor of the house. The place came fully furnished so you didn’t have much to do. But Seungkwan made you nervous to say the least, especially because you didn’t prepare to be quizzed on your first day in the neighbourhood. The only good thing to come out of that interaction was the brownies he baked, which tasted amazing, surprisingly enough.

“Why? Should I look into it?” Jihoon suggests, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You shake your head as if he can see you through the phone call.

“No, it’s okay, one of them just likes to gossip I think,” you laugh. “Other than that we’re fine.”

You hear Jihoon sigh out of relief, his day is already long enough. If he had to spend time looking into your neighbours to see if they had a criminal record, he would miss his dinner date.

“Okay, good to know. I’ll call you again next week,” Jihoon says with a monotonous tone.

A giggle leaves your lips, the exhaustion clear in his voice. You felt a little bad knowing he had to spend a lot of time on you and Mingyu’s case, but you were also thankful for the fact that you had someone to talk to from time to time.

It's only been about a week since you arrived in your little suburbia ‘haven’, and you still haven’t made any friends in the neighbourhood. You don’t count Seungkwan… he was more like a pain in the ass than a friend if anything. Although his boyfriend Vernon wasn’t as bad; quiet and a little expressionless, at least he kept to himself.

You hear the front door unlock with a beep, you already know who it is.

Whipping your head to see Mingyu stepping through the front door, hands filled with grocery bags. His appearance is laughable, his tall stature and large muscles contrasting the pink Shiba Inu apron that he wears over his clothes. You weren’t sure where he had got it from or why he chose to wear it in public, but you don’t feel like it’s your place to question him.

In the few days that you two have been living together, you begin to realize how different he is compared to his former mafia brothers. Mingyu had a knack for knowing his way around the kitchen, the whole house. He spent a lot of his free time cleaning, gardening, or making meals for the two of you.

The two of you didn’t talk much, and there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air. Meals were eaten with minimal conversation, and during the nights you would read your books in the living room, Mingyu would sit on the opposite side attempting to get Norbert to warm up to him.

“Norbert, please! Anytime but now, I have a shit ton of groceries that need to be put away!” You can hear Mingyu exasperate at the front of the house.

Norbert’s meowing rings throughout the house and you already know that his claws are probably scratching away at Mingyu’s pants. From what you have gathered, Norbert isn’t very fond of Mingyu. You assume that he’s just not used to having another person around the house, but at the same time, you thought your cat would have started to get used to his presence by now.

“Norbert, baby! Come and sit with me, I’ve got a new book for us to read,” you call out for him, saving Mingyu from your cat’s wrath.

The pitter-patter of his claws grows louder as he makes his way towards you, Mingyu’s large sigh of relief following shortly after. You laugh to yourself at how much he likes to torment Mingyu, even though Norbert only weighs about twenty pounds and is a cat.

The night goes on without another hitch. Mingyu prepares dinner for the two of you while you and Norbert dive into the first installment of Twilight. Reading aloud so your baby (cat) can follow along with the story about teenage vampires and werewolves.

four.

Mingyu was a man who thought he would never be able to escape his mafia, let alone be able to restart in a place that didn’t tie him to any of his illicit work. He never wanted to work for Seungcheol, nor did he want to live every day wondering if it was going to be his last.

He sees himself as a simple man, and all his daydreams are centered around living a simple life. A home that’s fit for a family, a golden retriever to throw frisbees with, and neighbourhood barbecues. He thought it was all some far-fetched fantasy.

It wasn’t until Jihoon got in contact with him, that’s when he realized that he finally had a chance at living the life he always dreamed of. What he didn’t know was that you would be the one he was going to be living with. But the moment Jihoon mentioned you, he knew that his wishes were more out of reach than he hoped.

He didn’t have anything against you, but he still remembers the day you left Seungcheol. It's heavily ingrained in his memory, not only because your escape created an uproar, but it was also the day he realized he too needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

…

“Boss? Wonwoo told me you wanted to talk,” Mingyu enters Seungcheol’s office, face painted with worry.

The office faces the west side of the city, skyscrapers and clouds surrounding the large floor-to-ceiling windows. There sat Seungcheol, his hair tousled every which way due to his habit of constantly running his fingers through it. The most obvious indicator of Seungcheol’s stress is if his hair is a complete mess, and that is how Mingyu knew that there must be something wrong.

“Y/n left,” Seungcheol’s voice breaks, head in his hands.

His eyes are bloodshot, shoulders shaking as he cries to himself quietly. Seungcheol wasn’t prepared for you to leave, let alone disappear without a single goodbye. He knew it was his fault too, and he knew why you left. The world flipped upside from that day onwards. Seungcheol hasn’t been the same since.

The air becomes thick, and Mingyu finds it hard to swallow. He knew how much Seungcheol adored you, and he knew that he would do anything for you.

“What? Why? Did she say anything to you?” Mingyu panics, unsure what to say or how to comfort his leader.

“No note, nothing,” Cheol sighs, picking at the chipped piece of wood on his desk. “All she left was her ring on the dresser.”

“I’m sorry Cheol, I didn’t know.” Mingyu becomes meek, his voice softer than feathers falling onto the pavement.

His stomach plummets to the ground. He had a feeling you found out what truly lies under Seungcheol’s business, but he didn’t know you would leave so hastily. He felt the guilt swirl throughout his body, but a part of him was relieved. Mingyu knew you weren’t meant for this lifestyle, and if you stayed any longer there would be no chance for you to escape.

Wonwoo informed him that he told you about what Seungcheol does to bring money in. He told Mingyu that it wouldn’t be right to continue to let you live so carelessly without knowing what type of person your fiance is.

It wasn’t long after that conversation that Mingyu found his way out of Seungcheol’s grasp too. He knows he should’ve felt bad, and that he should’ve at least found an excuse to leave Seungcheol. But he just couldn’t go through with it, he knew if he even spent a moment explaining himself, he would’ve never been able to leave.

Mingyu was Seungcheol’s right-hand man, his confidant, and most importantly his best friend. Mingyu has seen Cheol grow into the person he is today, and it only makes him feel even more remorse. He knows he should’ve stopped him from becoming blinded by wealth, by power. But he didn’t and it caused him not only to lose his fiancée, but also his brother.

Since that day, Mingyu has constantly pondered what could’ve been if Seungcheol hadn’t turned to mafia life. Would they have been happy? Would they have lived long lives with families of their own? There are so many unanswered what-ifs. He knows he can’t change his past anymore, but he knows that wants a better future. Even if it meant spending a year faking a marriage with his former best friend’s ex-fiancée.

five.

“Oh Y/n-ie! It’s good to see you, I swear I haven’t seen you leave the house since you’ve moved in,” Seungkwan snips, giving you a tooth-achingly sweet smile.

You try to suppress your eye-roll as much as possible as he walks over to your side of the comically green grassed yard. Seungkwan’s hand is on his hip as he watches you make your way to your car.

“Good afternoon to you too, Seungkwan. Just needed to pick up a few things for dinner. Mingyu spent the afternoon at the country club,” you return his fake smile, trying to keep up the facade of a doting wife.

“Oh! Is that so? I swear I thought your husband did the housework in your home. He’s always wearing that pink apron around the neighbourhood.” Seungkwan pretends to act invested in your “married life”, but he’s trying to get whatever gossip he can out of you. His real goal is purely to entertain the neighbourhood aunties with any information on the newlyweds.

Stopping in your tracks, his words catch you by surprise. You should’ve known that Seungkwan is an observant person, especially because he somehow knows everything about everyone in Bridgewater.

“Oh we split the chores evenly,” you let out a forced laugh, he offers to do the housework, and you think to yourself before continuing, “And he likes the apron, so who am I to deny his happiness?”

Not wanting to be grilled by Seungkwan any longer, you hastily slip into your car before he can get another word in.

…

“Norbert, please calm down honey, I’m trying to cook! And if I don’t end up eating neither will you,” you warn your cat to stop pawing at your leg.

Norbert was extra clingy today, and knowing you weren’t the best cook in the world, you couldn’t afford to ruin the recipe for a second time. Yes, a second time.

The first attempt at making alfredo for both you and Mingyu ended miserably, and thankfully you were smart enough to buy double the ingredients just in case any mistakes were to occur when you were cooking. The recipe online looked simple, and you even watched a few TikTok videos in an attempt to expand your knowledge.

You thought that making a cream sauce and boiling some noodles would be pretty straightforward, but somehow, you burnt the boiling noodles. Seeing all the noodles stick to the bottom of the pan you decided to just leave the searing pot in the sink and worry about it later, which turned out to be another grave mistake.

Mistake number two started when you thought the pot was cool enough to touch, earning you a sizzling burn on your soft skin. This explains Norbert’s clingy behaviour, witnessing all your fuck ups through his kitten eyes. You try not to swear in front of the baby but you couldn’t help but let out a few curses while you attempted to bandage up your burn.

To say the least, you shouldn’t be let into the kitchen from now on. But you felt bad that Mingyu made food for the both of you instead of letting you fend for yourself, so you thought you could at least return the gesture.

Norbert’s meows come to an abrupt stop as he hears the front door beep, making his way to greet Mingyu at the door. Except Norbert never greets Mingyu in a friendly way. Not more than ten seconds pass before you begin to hear Norbert’s hissing and clawing into the man's thighs.

“Norbert! Please! Where’s your mom? Can’t you just sit with her so I can at least take my shoes off?” Mingyu begs, causing you to snort.

Norbert doesn't listen to anyone but you, and even that is a rare occurrence for your sassy cat.

“Honey, come to the kitchen!” you yell at your cat to return to his rightful side beside you.

Mingyu comes speeding down the hallway, Norbert following him, his curious eyes peeking at your frame. He watches as you concentrate on making the alfredo sauce, tongue stuck out and a layer of sweat lining your forehead.

The sun is setting behind you, the golden rays hitting your face, highlighting your features beautifully. Mingyu is entranced, his prior feelings of hunger are nothing but a memory of the past.

You can feel his eyes on you, his stare boring holes into the side of your face and it causes your shoulders to stiffen slightly. Turning to face him, you quirk an inquisitive brow, not sure as to why he’s so trained on you. The gears begin to turn, and finally, the imaginary lightbulb begins to ding.

“I was calling for Norbert,” you clarified.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine if you’re here too. I tried to make us dinner, I know you’re the cook but I felt bad that you’re always the one preparing food for us,” you shrug, trying not to focus on how handsome Mingyu looks in his golfing attire.

His large biceps stretch the material of his shirt beyond belief, while the pants define his slim waist. The strands of hair are somehow perfectly placed, and his eyes are so kind, it would be stupid to deny his beauty. You can admit that Mingyu is extremely attractive, and you know you don’t owe Seungcheol anything, but the thought of being involved with Mingyu more than you already are could fuck things up for your future, especially knowing this arrangement isn’t permanent.

“I don’t mind though.”

“I know you don’t but I do,” you sigh, finishing up the dish by adding the sauce to the pasta.

Turning towards the island, you begin to plate the rest of the sides for dinner, trying your best to make sure that this batch is more edible than the first attempt. Mingyu continues to watch you, his arms crossed as he leans against the fridge.

This is everything Mingyu wished for himself, the view of you plating the food you’re about to eat together, even if you’re his ‘best friend’s’ ex. Playing golf at the country club, even if it’s with Jihoon, who wanted to be able to meet without being inconspicuous. Coming home to a fluffy fur baby, even though Norbert hates his guts. It may not be perfect, or how Mingyu imagined it exactly, but it’s better than before. Better than when he was living every day like it was his last, working a job that brought him no happiness.

“Did you burn yourself earlier?” he asks you, noticing the bandage you wrapped around your left hand.

“Yeah, I’m not the best cook so, if the food doesn't taste right, sorry,” you apologize in advance, not wanting Mingyu to get his hopes up.

He laughs at how apologetic you look, and you turn to give him a glare, his canines poking out of his smile like fangs. This is probably one of the first times you two held a full conversation. The only other time was when you were deciding on how the house was going to be run, and picking out your separate bedrooms.

Mingyu was kind enough to let you stay in the master bedroom while he slept in the room across the hall from yours. If you took away the history you had with Mignyu and Seungcheol, you could imagine that the two of you are just like roommates. Living together, acquainted, but not exactly friendly or close.

It isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, and you may have misjudged Mingyu at first. He’s a lot different than he was all those years ago, or maybe you find him to be different now because you didn't know him all that well when you were still with Seungcheol.

You find Mingyu to be kind, soft-hearted, and a man who somehow knows a lot about taking care of the house. Even knowledgeable on how to clean Norbert’s litter box, and give him the occasional bath.

“What did you and Jihoon talk about at the country club?” you ask him, wanting to know if there’s any important news that should be brought to your attention.

“Well he said that the FBI is still on the hunt for Seungcheol, but the rest of the guys have already been put into custody,” he sighs.

“And Wonwoo?”

“He’s fine, they pardoned him for giving up information,” Mingyu mutters, walking up to the space beside you.

He takes the bowl of lettuce from your hands, adding in all the ingredients you prepped for the salad to have alongside your pasta. The brush of your hands makes you blush like some teenage girl, but you allow him to help you nonetheless. You didn’t realize how tiring cooking was because you’ve never had to cook for more than one person before.

“That’s good to hear. If it weren’t for Wonwoo, I wouldn’t have been able to leave that damn place,” you laugh bitterly, folding the sauce into your noodles, making sure they were fully coated.

“I was there, that day,” Mingyu mentions, his eyes trained on preparing the food in front of him, “Seungcheol was a wreck.”

“I know, and I know it hurt him, but I couldn’t stand being there anymore. Especially after Wonwoo told me the truth.”

“It’s okay, he’s not the same guy I knew from when we were kids either.”

“I hope he’s moved on at least.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu shrugs, his eyes glassy, “I left a few days after you did.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, for the same reasons you did, and also for myself,” he sighs, moving away to grab plates from the cupboards.

Standing there, you’re stunned. Mingyu was someone Seungcheol saw as his brother, and you thought they would live their mafia life together till the end. As cheesy as it sounds, there were times you felt that your ex cared more for Mingyu than any other person who worked for him.

Mingyu begins to set the table, Norbert following closely as he peers at the counter to see all the food that you’ve made. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought that even your cat was aware of the stiff atmosphere that blankets you and Mingyu.

You don’t know if you should pry, so you just nod and help him with putting dinner on the table. And for the rest of the night, it was quiet. Eating in silence while Norbert watches Bluey in the living room, something that you’ve always put on for him just to keep him occupied while you and Mingyu eat dinner.

After dinner was finished, Mingyu offered to wash the dishes, allowing you to relax and enjoy some episodes of Bluey with Norbert purring peacefully by your side.

“Mind if I join?” Mingyu enters the living room, wearing sweats and a white tank top.

You give him a shy smile gesturing for him to sit on your right side while Norbert lays on the cushion to your left. His taunt muscles distract you for a second, but you do your best to shake the attraction from your coursing veins. The couch dips and Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. Probably because he was tired from the day he spent trying to pretend he was out golfing with Jihoon.

“So what’s the show about?” Mingyu asks you, his eyes trained on your side profile.

“A show about a dog family,” you chuckle, “Originally it was meant for Norbert to watch when I’m working or when we’re eating, but it’s pretty good.”

“Really? Isn’t it for kids?” Mingyu snorts but continues to sit next to you, watching the said kids' show.

“Yeah it is, but Norbert is a kid to me,” you laugh, giving Norbert extra pats.

“He’s a little menace that one,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Norbert just needs to get used to you,” you shrug, “I’ve had him since I left Seungcheol, so he’s seen me at my worst, he might just be overprotective of me.”

Mingyu nods, taking in everything you’re telling him. He understands how leaving your ex-fiance is traumatic and heartbreaking. He knows it wasn’t easy for you, but at least you had Norbert to help you heal.

“It wasn’t an easy decision, and Norbert helped me stay strong. It was lonely without Seungcheol for a long time, and a part of me will always love who he used to be.”

Heat overwhelms Mingyu’s body, and his heart breaks for you. He can’t imagine what it's like to love someone and find out they’re not the person you thought they were. He knew you tried to tolerate his work, but at some point, you were led to your breaking point.

“I hope you know you did the right thing. Seungcheol was going down a dark path and you were able to get out,” Mingyu smiles at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.

“Thank you Mingyu, I appreciate that,” you return his smile.

The two of you spend the rest of the night watching episodes of Bluey with Norbert, talking a little in between about the characters. Laughing at the scenes with Bluey and her younger sister, falling into a comfortable silence with each passing second.

…

You feel warm, no, hot even. The sunlight hitting your face makes your eyes scrunch in discomfort. There's an ache in your shoulders as you begin to wake up from a very uncomfortable sleep. An arm pinning you down to the couch, a leg over yours. It takes you a while to begin to comprehend where you are and who is lying next to you.

Mingyu’s snores fill your ears, heavy breaths tickling the back of your neck. You almost fall onto the carpet as you realize who exactly is holding you. Last night ended so peacefully, so much so that you don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with.

Yet here you are, enveloped in his grasp, panicking and wondering how you’re going to escape without waking him up. And if matters couldn’t get any worse, you feel a hard bump brush against your lower back. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, he can’t be, you think to yourself. But you know what exactly is poking you as if this situation could get any more awkward.

It's normal, right? Men get morning wood all the time, you thought to yourself.

“Shit…” you whisper to yourself, slowly prying Mingyu’s arm from off your waist.

He stirs in his sleep as you move off the couch but not enough to wake him up. As you stand up to walk away, you take one last peek at him, wondering how you two ended up falling asleep while watching Bluey of all shows.

The usually sharp features are softened by his slumber, giving him a youthful look. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look so peaceful, and it suits him. This neighbourhood suits him as if he’s been living here all his life. It makes you feel a little envious knowing how easy it is for him to assimilate. He remembers all the neighbours' names and says hello to everyone who passes him while he's working in the yard, he just made it all look so easy to forget his life in the bustling city. Although you can’t blame him, you can tell he loves it here because of how much care he puts into the house. You can’t help but wonder why he’s trying so hard knowing both of you will part ways by next year.

six.

While you spent the majority of the day holed up in your office trying to finish off the rest of your projects, Mingyu decided that it was a lovely day to try and bond more with Norbert. He wasn’t sure how to make the stubborn kitten fall for him, but he thought that a nice walk around the neighbourhood couldn’t hurt.

The day had barely started and Norbert was already making a fuss. Mingyu isn’t well-versed when it comes to cats; he’s more of a dog person himself. So to his surprise, Norbert was very adamant about staying indoors today.

“Don’t you wanna explore the neighbourhood, Norbert?” Mingyu tries to persuade the cat, which makes him feel like a fool.

Norbert gives him a blank stare obviously, and Mingyu wonders why he’s even trying knowing that the cat probably can’t understand him anyway. Trying his best to compromise with the ever-so-stubborn Norbert, a light bulb goes off in his head.

It surely wasn’t easy, and there were a few scratches here and there, but Mingyu finally was able to put Norbert into the basket of his bicycle. The cat meowed like crazy until he was hit with the fresh air and warm sunlight. His meows died down and he sat in the basket peacefully, watching the kids play on the street and the cars pass by.

“See? Not so bad now is it?” Mingyu chuckles, noticing the shift in Norbert’s mood. He meows back while nuzzling into the safety of his blanket.

“It’ll be a boys’ day today, your mom’s busy working,” Mingyu continues, even though the animal can’t understand what he’s saying.

Feeling the wind brush through his hair, Mingyu takes a deep breath of fresh air. A content smile made its way onto his face, he could get used to this. The neighbours of Bridgewater waved to him as he biked along the streets. It's so peaceful, everyone is happy, and Mingyu is happy. He loved to explore even if it was just by himself, even if it meant he was alone with his thoughts.

“Mingyu darling, what are you doing out and about today?” one of the older women he sees daily calls out for him.

“Good afternoon! Me and Norbert just wanted to explore today,” he smiles with a toothy grin.

The woman blushes at his handsome visuals, trying not to get caught up in his charms. She looks behind his large frame, spotting the cat sleeping peacefully in the basket attached to his bike. Letting out a giggle, finding it quite funny that Norbert is a cat and not a dog, usually, you don’t take cats out for these types of things.

“Where’s that wife of yours? I’ve only seen her a few times, but oh my, isn’t she so pretty? You got lucky you know,” she chuckles, patting Mingyu’s arm playfully.

Mingyu’s eyes shine at the mention of you, he agrees that you’re pretty but it feels a little weird that you're referred to as his wife, knowing that it’s all a facade.

“Thank you miss, I’ll have to let her know that you said that,” he replies kindly while Norbert stirs a little in his spot before returning to his sleep.

“Please don’t call me Miss, it's so formal! Just call me Auntie, okay?” she returns his kind smile. “You know what, I’ve got some leftover kimchi, why don’t you take it home, for you and your wife.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened, his heart warmed by her act of kindness. “Is that ok? You don’t have to feel obligated to do that.”

“Oh please, you young people, always so polite. I want to! So please share it with your wife, make some kimchi stew for dinner,” she reassures him, leaving him at her front yard to fetch a container of said kimchi.

She comes back with a huge tub, enough to feed them for a whole month maybe. Handing him over the large container, she reminds him to come back when they run out. Bidding her goodbye, Mingyu returns home from his bike ride successfully with a sleepy cat and a comically large tub of fermented cabbage in tow.

…

The smell of kimchi stew wafts from the kitchen into your office causing your stomach to growl with hunger. Focused on your pending tasks, you didn’t realize how fast the time flew by while you were working. Glancing over at the clock you’re surprised that it's already a quarter to five.

Stepping out to see what Mingyu’s doing in the kitchen, you find his back turned to you, nursing a large pot of stew on the burner. His large frame is accentuated by a white tank top, the pink string of his apron strewn along his waist. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were drooling over the smell of the food or the sight of your muscular fake husband.

“What are you cooking?” you call out, leaning against the door frame that leads to your workspace.

Mingyu jumps at the sound of your voice, surprised that you’ve come out so early. He knows you tend to work for long periods, only coming out when you’ve fully completed your assigned projects.

“Kimchi stew, the lady down the street gave us a huge tub,” he replies, still stirring the pot without looking back at you. “I took Norbert out for a bike ride and she offered so.”

“You took Norbert for a bike ride?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

Norbert is the type of cat who doesn’t like getting picked up and knowing that information makes it hard to believe Mingyu was able to successfully put him into the basket attached to his bike. Imagining him fighting to get your very grumpy cat into the bike made you giggle, especially because you know how much Norbert doesn’t like Mingyu.

“Yeah, after a few scratches, he got in and I think he liked it. He fell asleep for most of it though,” Mingyu snorted, recalling how much that furball of fury put up a fight till his body hit the basket.

“It’s nice that you’re trying to bond with him, it just takes him a while to warm up to you.”

“Yeah, I figured we just needed a boy's day while you were working.”

“Hmm, anyways the kimchi stew, is it ready?” you inquire while your stomach’s impatience continues to grow with each passing second.

“It should be good, do you mind setting the table for me?” he requests while taking the pot off the burner.

You don’t say anything else, moving to the living room to turn on more episodes for Norbert before grabbing plates from the cabinets to place them on the small dinner table.

The serving dish needed for the stew sat at the very top shelf of the cupboard and your arms were simply too short to grab it. Your movements come to an abrupt halt the moment you feel Mingyu stand close behind you, one hand on your waist while the other hovers over you to grab the bowl.

“Let me get it for you,” he grunts, taking the dish in his hand to ladle in the stew.

Heart pounding in your chest, his breath tickles the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine. Mingyu’s body encases yours as his arm comes back down to place the dish on the counter.

Cursing yourself, you're thankful your back is turned to him or else he would be able to see the blush that’s starting to bloom on your cheeks. You mumble a small thanks before going to the table to resume setting the plates down for dinner.

As you two eat in silence you think about all the moments you’ve had with Mingyu today. The time you slept on the couch until just now when he held you close. It didn’t even mean anything, it shouldn’t mean anything, yet it replays in your mind like clockwork.

seven.

The ringing of the doorbell brings you out of your thoughts, placing your book down, you head over to answer the door. It’s none other than your gossip of a neighbour Seungkwan.

“Lovely evening Y/n-ie!” He smiles brightly, inviting himself into the foyer of your house before you could even protest.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes yet again, stepping aside to allow Seungkwan to go on with whatever it is that brought him barging into your home.

“Good evening,” you respond curtly, suspicious as to what he could need at this hour.

“Vernon and I have some friends over for a little nightcap and dessert, do you and Mingyu want to join?” he asks, eyes never leaving yours.

To a normal and maybe less paranoid person, one would assume that Seungkwan is just being a kind neighbour, but you’re not so easily fooled. The glint in his eyes makes you realize there’s probably an ulterior motive to his ‘act of kindness’.

“Oh no it’s okay, it would be rude to impose,” you try to play it off politely, but the fucker wouldn’t budge.

“Nonsense! I’m inviting you and Mingyu because I want you two there,” he explains, waving his hand at you.

Before you can refuse him even more, you hear Mingyu coming out of his room to check up on why you’re taking so long at the front door.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” he calls out for you as he walks towards the foyer.

“Everything’s all fine and dandy Mingyu, I just came over to invite you and Y/n over for some drinks and dessert!” Seungkwan informs him before you can get another word out.

“That sounds like fun actually, why don’t we go baby?” Mingyu turns over to you, his eyebrows raised, his smile tight as he tries to silently tell you that he’s putting an act up for Seungkwan.

Still flustered by the pet name, you cough out a yes. Turning over to Seungkwan to give him a fake smile. He returns your smile, eyes squinted, you can see how hard the gears are working in that brain of his. You know that he probably finds you two odd because of how awkward you and Mingyu are with each other, but you attempt to play it off as normal as possible.

“It’s settled then! Let's go, can’t keep everyone else waiting,” he exclaims as he opens the door, gesturing for the two of you to walk out first before closing the door.

Crossing over to Seungkwan’s side of the yard, he opens the door for the two of you like the perfect host that you figured he would be. You cannot deny that his extroverted persona allows him to be so persuasive, but you can’t get over the fact that he’s a little too curious.

“The newlyweds are here!” he calls out and five heads whip over to stare at you and Mingyu standing awkwardly in the foyer of their home.

Mingyu grasps your hand in his, his palms rough, probably from all the work he does in the yard. Making your way over to the couch, a man with long hair gets up to pour you two drinks. This is the most that you two have come into contact with each other consciously if you don’t count the time on the couch.

A part of you wonders if Mingyu realizes what happened this morning, but you’re too embarrassed to bring it up. So you’ll leave it and hope he doesn’t remember you two squeezed so intimately on the living room sofa.

“Everyone, this is Y/n and Mingyu, they moved into the house beside ours a couple of weeks ago,” he introduces the two of you.

As the two of you say your hello’s Mingyu pulls over to sit beside him on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. The blush on your cheeks stays permanently as you’re practically sitting on his lap. You try not to blow your cover but it’s hard with so many people's eyes on you.

“You both already know Vernon-ie, the one grabbing your drinks is Jeonghan and that’s his wife, Valerie,” Seungkwan gets you two acquainted with the couple before moving on. “That’s Joshua and Maren, his wife.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Valerie but you can just call me Val,” the woman with brownish black hair smiles at you, and you can only nod, still overwhelmed with the amount of people you just met, “So why did you guys choose to live in Bridgewater?”

“We thought it would be a nice place to live, I work from home and Mingyu is currently taking a break. The first time we saw the listing, we knew it was going to be our forever home,” you lie straight through your teeth.

There's a twinge of guilt that stirs at the pit of your stomach, you feel bad for lying to these people because of how kind they all looked. You even felt bad for lying to Seungkwan, albeit he can be a nosy little shit but at least he’s nice enough to introduce you to his friends.

“If you don’t mind me asking where did you and Mingyu meet?” Maren, the woman sitting beside Joshua asks with a curious sparkle in her eyes.

You almost choke on your drink, eyes wide because you were not prepared for all these questions thrown at you. Thankfully Mingyu took the lead this time, his thumb rubbing soothing circles where he had his hand placed on your waist.

“We met through a mutual friend, we were in university at the time,” he smiles warmly and Maren listens intently, hanging onto Mingyu’s every word. “The moment I saw her I knew I was going to marry her.”

Mingyu turns to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and your cheeks heat up for what feels like the millionth time today. Even though his acting this way with you is all a facade your heart can’t help but skip a beat.

“What! That’s so cute,” Maren gushes before glaring at her husband before hitting his arm jokingly. “Why can’t you say cheesy stuff like that?”

Joshua’s eyes go wide and he can’t help but stutter. “Bro you’re making the rest of us look really bad right now.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh and just shrugs nonchalantly knowing that no one is immune to his charms. Even if all of this is a lie, he can’t help but play into the sappy newly-wed trope with you, and it doesn't help that he finds you so caring and beautiful too. There’s something about the way you lean into him on the couch and the soft smile you give him while talking about your “forever home”, you make it easy for him to imagine fake scenarios of how you two met.

“What university did you two go to?” Jeonghan pipes up from his seat, his arm wrapping around Val as he sips on his glass of bourbon.

“I went to Yonsei, I majored in statistics. Mingyu and I met at a club with our mutual friends,” you try not to sound too nervous while you piggyback off of Mingyu’s lie.

The back of your neck feels hot from having everyone inquire about your history with Mingyu, and it doesn’t help that your ‘husband’’s sitting so close to you, his body heat transferring over to you. At least it wasn’t a complete lie, you did go to Yonsei and you majored in stats; just way before you met both Seungcheol and Mingyu.

“What about you Mingyu?” Jeonghan moves on to him, and he perks up in his seat, mouth full of the cheesecake that Seungkwan made. The food fills his cheeks slightly and you giggle at how much he resembles a chipmunk.

“I went to SNU, and majored in business,” he states after swallowing his dessert and clearing his throat.

“Okay, enough with the interrogation. Can we talk about something else?” Vernon interrupts, obviously feeling bad for the fact that the rest of them have been asking you two questions for the majority of the night.

The rest of the group laughs, probably because they know that Vernon doesn’t talk unless he’s prompted to. Although you don’t know him very well you could tell that he was more of a listening type. It makes sense that he and Seungkwan are together, he does enough talking for the both of them.

You were more surprised by Mingyu’s answer though, you didn’t know that he went to SNU, if that was even the truth. Although he does look like the business type. There was something about him that exudes the energy of a CEO or a man who’s just good at making connections. He’s able to catch people's attention, his words carry the weight of someone who isn’t afraid to speak out loud.

With the way he talked to Seungkwan’s friends tonight, you realized how well-articulated he is, and the fact that he’s able to get people to listen to what he has to say. Although he’s a little goofy, if you didn’t know him you would’ve assumed he’s someone important just by how he carries himself outside of the house. There’s a swell of pride within you when you watch him talk about your ‘past’, and for some reason, you don’t mind it. If anything, you’re looking forward to more moments like this.

…

The rest of the evening went along smoothly after that, and by the time everyone was ready to leave it was nearing one in the morning. You helped Seungkwan clean up in the kitchen, putting away the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The two of you were quiet for a bit, only talking when you asked him about what goes where.

A part of you felt bad for being so curt with Seungkwan in the beginning. Maybe you were wrong about him and he just likes to be a nosy nieghbour, maybe it’s his way of making friends. You can’t help but be guarded due to your past and you misjudged him too quickly.

Maybe it was the glasses of wine you had or the fact that you saw a different version of him. But there’s a lovable side to him, and also a side that doesn’t mind embarrassing himself a little to get a laugh out of his friends.

“I want to thank you for inviting me and Mingyu tonight, all of our friends are in the city so we don’t get to see them often,” you confessed. “It’s nice to have someone else to talk to other than Mingyu or Norbert.”

He turns to you with a genuine smile, and you notice that maybe that glint in his eyes is permanent, a glint that shows his happy demeanor and not the type that’s meant to show his mischievousness.

“I’m glad you had fun because you’ll be invited to things like these from now on,” he expresses, his smile reaching his eyes now.

“I appreciate it, Mingyu needs more friends in the neighbourhood, ones that are his age and don’t constantly drool over him,” you roll your eyes, recalling all the aunties who stroll past your front yard daily.

“I can be his friend but I can’t promise I won’t drool over him,” he giggles, causing you to slap his arm playfully.

“Hey! Leave my husband alone, you have your own. Don't get greedy now,” you feign anger at him, glaring at him before bursting out laughing.

Mingyu walks into the kitchen, handing over the rest of the dishes that were left in the living room. His eyes dart back and forth between you as he realizes how much closer you two have gotten tonight.

“Thank you, Gyu, if you ever get tired of being bossed around by Y/n you can always live with me and Nonie,” Seungkwan giggles as he calls him by his nickname, giving his large bicep a squeeze.

You gasp at how forward Seungkwan is, your hand placed over your chest as you pretend to be offended by his words. He only glances back at you to stick his tongue out.

“You’re so childish, he’s my husband,” you attested, pulling Mingyu by his arm so he could stand closer to you. “And I’m not bossy, Mingyu just enjoys doing housework!”

Mingyu is even more confused now, but he cracks a smile when he sees how playful you’ve become. He concludes that maybe you just had a little more to drink than normal and goes along with you and Seungkwan’s teasing.

“Woah that’s enough you two, there’s enough Mingyu for everyone,” he laughs and you give him a sour look. He was obviously feeling himself too much in that moment, but you can’t help but chuckle at how cocky he sounds.

“Let’s go home Gyu, before Seungkwan decides to hold you hostage.” you huff emphasizing his nickname before you drag him over to the front door. “Bye Seungkwan, I already know I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Waving goodbye to Kwan, you pass Vernon on your way as he sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while the two other couples mingle amongst themselves.

“Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you, but it’s way past her bedtime,” Mingyu muses, motioning over to you. Your eyes feel droopy and you were practically hanging off of Mingyu’s body as he held you by the waist.

They all say their goodbyes to the two of you with promises to meet soon again. Mingyu guides you through the front door and across the green grassed lawn back to your place.

The time you spent with everyone tonight allowed you to recognize that maybe it isn’t so bad living here. Especially if you’ll be able to talk to them more often. No one but Mingyu knows about your past, and that reassures you to start new friendships, even though they’re temporary.

eight.

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing incessantly, to the point you almost threw it across your room. It wasn’t until you read the name “Jihoon” flashing across the screen, causing you to fully wake up from what feels like a hundred years' worth of sleep. You silently promised yourself to remind Mingyu to not let you drink so much wine at Seungkwan’s house again.

“Jihoon? Is everything alright? You usually check up on us in the evening,” you stammered, sleep still evident in your voice.

“Y/n, hey sorry to call so early but…they’ve located Seungcheol,” he sighs, the news of his whereabouts hanging in the air.

Gulping nervously, your palms sweat. The way Jihoon sounded a little apprehensive made you feel uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“Go on.”

“He used a burner to call a friend of his I’m guessing, but we were able to ping it and he’s in the town next to yours.”

“What?!” Now you’re fully freaking out, pushing your comforter to go and find Mingyu.

“I’m really sorry Y/n,” Jihoon sounds just as stressed as you are.

Searching around the house you see him sitting on the sofa with Norbert beside him, they’re watching more episodes of Bluey, but he pauses the show after noticing the panicked look on your face. You go to sit beside him putting your phone on speaker so the both of you can hear what Jihoon has to say.

“You’re on speaker, Mingyu’s right beside me,” you mention before allowing him to continue.

His sigh is audible through the speakers of your phone, and your blood pressure rises. If Jihoon is this worried then you should probably just be as worried.

“They found his location to be at a motel in the next town over, we don’t know how he found out but he might be looking for you two,” he explains carefully. “I’m sending over another Marshall officer to watch over you two while we continue to track Seungcheol. You two should be safe with him but try not to leave the neighbourhood for now, it could get dangerous if he ends up seeing either of you.”

“Okay got it, thank you Jihoon,” Mingyu replies, his hand subconsciously placed over yours as you two bear the news of your very dangerous ex potentially on the hunt for you two.

Jihoon gives you two his regards before he hangs up, probably too busy to linger on the phone for any longer.

Giving Mingyu a nervous look, he can tell how hard this information is for you to handle. After a month of being here in what felt like a sanctuary from the dangers of the outside world, you’re pulled back into reality. You’re reminded of why you’re really here, more scared than ever.

The tears start to fall before you even realize and Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, instead, he pulls you into your arms and tries to comfort you as much as possible. Even though he’s just as scared as you are, he’s determined to protect you, to protect his home, even Norbert.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he whispers into your ear as you cry into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt.

“You did nothing wrong, Mingyu,” you blabber as his hand rubs your back, trying to console your sobs. “I’m just so scared, what if he hurts us? What if you get hurt? I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Hey hey, it’s okay, I got you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Don’t forget where I came from before all this,” he reassures you, pulling you back to look you in your eyes with a solemn stare. “He’s not going to touch even a single hair on you, or Nobert.”

You giggle a little at the fact that he’s always so inclusive to the cat who’s a bitch to him but you’re happy to know that he’s willing to protect all of you. He laughs with you, wiping away the tears that have fallen from your eyes, his touch as gentle as a mouse despite how large his hands are.

“You’re the best fake husband, I hope you know that,” you mumble as you go back into his embrace. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

“Thank you Y/n, you’re the best fake wife too,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head just like he did last night.

Except this time there’s no one to fool, there’s no one to lie to. It’s just the two of you, and the subtle meaning behind his affection makes you wish that it was Mingyu you fell for all those years ago instead.

…

Jihoon: I have an officer who’ll be patrolling the area, his name is Jun Wen. Here’s his badge number: ###### and picture. Just in case someone tries to come and impersonate him, also don’t mind if he’s a little weird, that's just how he is; and yes, he knows what he’s doing so don’t worry. You’re in safe hands.

An eyebrow quirks up as you read the last part of his text wondering what he meant about “weird”. As if on cue, the sound of the doorbell reverberates throughout your house. That must be him, you thought to yourself.

Mingyu leaves his spot on the couch and goes to get the door. He's become extra protective of you since the call you had with Jihoon this morning. It allows you to relax a little knowing he’ll be the one to answer the door from now on.

“Uh, Y/n? Why’s there some guy meowing at Norbert on our front porch?” Mingyu asks you with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Huh?” you’re just as confused as he is, but you walk over to Mingyu with your phone in hand regardless.

Looking down at the picture Jihoon sent and back at the man squatted beside Norbet, you realize this is what Jihoon meant about him being weird. From the picture that was sent, he looks like a perfectly normal guy, maybe he just really likes cats? You wondered to yourself.

“Oh that’s Jun, the guy Jihoon sent over,” you mumble, showing Mingyu the picture on your phone.

“Huh,” Mingyu says, dumbfounded.

Opening the door you don’t say anything, just watching the man named Jun make noises at your cat, who looks disgruntled and very annoyed at the random human disturbing his sleep. He’s dressed in normal clothing instead of a uniform, probably so that the neighbours don’t ask any questions.

“Mah-ow, mahhh-owww,” Jun keeps on making weird noises, blissfully unaware of the two of you staring at him from the now-opened front door.

“Uh excuse me, sir, what are you doing?” you call out to him, the confusion still very clear on your face.

Norbert hears your voice, ears perking up before he slips past Mingyu’s legs to go back into the house. His little claws clack against the hardwood as he makes his way onto the couch to continue with his afternoon nap.

“Aw man, you guys scared the cat away,” he sighs animatedly before standing up to greet the two of you with his hand out to shake. “Hi, my name’s Jun, I’ll make sure bad guys won’t come and attack.”

You and Mingyu exchange looks before looking back at Jun, then back at each other again. This is definitely not the type of guy you were expecting, but Jihoon trusts him, and you trust Jihoon’s judgment.

“We didn’t-uh, never mind, anyways I’m Y/n, this is Mingyu,” you start to explain that you're not the one to scare Norbet away, but you quickly change your mind. Instead, you return his handshake with a curt smile.

“Well, I'll just be patrolling around the neighbourhood, you’ll see me parked a few houses down once in a while. If you need anything, here’s my number.” He hands you his card which is filled with doodles of cats.

He really does like cats, you confirm.

He walks away with a wave before going back into his car and driving off. Mingyu bursts out laughing, hands clutching his stomach before he sighs, wiping off fake tears from his eyes.

“That’s the guy that’s going to be helping us? Really?” he chuckles, looking at you like you’d know the answer to Jun’s odd behaviour.

“Hey, don’t ask me, ask Jihoon,” you slap his arm playfully before laughing with him.

“Well, hopefully, nothing bad happens from now on, I honestly think we could manage without a bodyguard of sorts, or whatever he is,” Mingyu snorts, off put by Jun’s personality.

“Jihoon appointed him, so I’m sure he’s well trained. He wouldn’t have sent him over otherwise,” you rationalize, not wanting to doubt the person who’s meant to be protecting you from Seungcheol.

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go inside, I’ll make us kimchi pancakes,” Mingyu beckons, and you close the door behind you before following him to the kitchen.

Jun being there just gives you an extra layer of reassurance, and you know Mingyu is just as capable, but it doesn’t hurt to have backup. Seungcheol is a smart man, and you’re not sure what tricks he has up his sleeve, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.

…

“Okay so now we just have to mix the pajeon mix with the kimchi,” Mingyu instructs, once again wearing his pink ruffled apron, but this time you’re wearing a matching one.

With your hair tied up, and hands messy with kimchi pancake mix, you follow every instruction that Mingyu gives you. It was his idea to teach you to cook, especially because he knows you’re not well-versed in the kitchen.

“Now what?” you ask, looking up at him for guidance, but before you can instruct him you spot the flour splattered on his nose. “Hey, you’ve got a little bit of… lemme just—”

Not realizing your hands were covered in the wet batter you end up getting the mixture all over his face too. Gasping at what you’ve just done, Mingyu looks at you with wide eyes before taking some of the batter in the bowl and smearing it on your face.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to, why’d you do that?” you let out a boisterous laugh, running away from him before he could catch you again.

“I know you did that on purpose!” he yells out, chasing you around the kitchen island in circles.

“No, I didn’t! Stop chasing me!” you squeal as he starts to close the distance between you two.

“Liar, I’m getting my revenge!” he laughs along with you, hot on your trail.

The two of you run in circles for a while till you have to catch your breath, causing you to slow down. Mingyu takes this opportunity to finally be able to get a hold of you, wrapping his hands around your waist with little effort before placing you on the counter.

“Say your final words now,” he fakes a serious tone, his crinkled as he tries to hold back his laughter.

Before you can get another word in he tickles your sides causing you to squirm against him as your back hits the counter. The bowl filled with kimchi pancake mix is long forgotten, half empty because of how much of it got onto both your clothes.

“Ok stop! I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I promise,” your words getting cut off by your laughter, Mingyu not relinquishing his hold on you.

He stops for a moment, his finger pointed at you, “You promise?”

You nod innocently, his upper body flushed against yours, legs intertwined at his waist as he pins you down to the counter with his other hand.

“Not!” you bite the finger pointed at you, but Mingyu’s reflexes are too fast, his large hands pinning your wrists to the counter once more.

The two of you have calmed down considerably since then, both tired from running around the kitchen. Your laboured breaths are the only thing that can be heard within the confines of your home. Mingyu’s face is dangerously close to yours, and if you leaned forward your lips would touch.

The pounding in your chest doesn’t subside and Mingyu’s eyes don’t leave yours. His strong arms are perfectly within your line of sight, and at this moment you feel like you and Mingyu are the only people in the whole world. There are no fears or doubts, no scary ex hunting you down. Just you and Mingyu.

Without even thinking, you both lean forward and capture each other’s lips in a soft kiss. You can tell he’s unsure at first, his hands loosening around your wrists, being as careful with you as he was this morning when he wiped away your tears. But you want more.

Pressing your lips against his with more vigour, your legs wrap around his waist to pull his pelvis closer to yours. A grunt leaves Mingyu’s lips, he takes this action as a signal to kiss you more passionately. His tongue laps against yours, his hands lifting you so you’re both upright.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, feeling the wet open-mouthed kisses he begins to press against your neck.

Before you can get any further, a cat meows beneath the two of you, his head turned in confusion. You pull away from him first, staring at your menacing cat, Fucking Norbert, you curse him out in your head before hopping off the counter and dusting yourself off.

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can go back to making the pancakes,” you smile awkwardly up at Mingyu.

“Oh okay, me too, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head.

Before you head to the washroom in your room you turn around once more and give Mingyu a quick peck on the lips. His arms wrap around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss once more. But you stop him before he can go any further, laughing at how needy he has gotten.

“Let’s do that more often,” you giggle before running off to the washroom.

Mingyu sighs with content, his cheeks rosy from your flirting. With you gone, he sticks his tongue at Norbert in frustration. What a cockblock, he says to himself in his head. Norbert meows in response before walking back to his spot on the couch.

No one’s ever made Mingyu feel the way you just did. At that moment he realized how fucked he is, you’re only here with him for the next eleven months, then what? Do you two go on with your lives separately? And you two are supposed to just forget everything? The more he thinks about it, the more determined he is to stay. The more determined he becomes to make you his and to give you the life you deserve.

The love you deserve.

nine.

“Afternoon, Jun!” you wave from the porch as you see his car approaching your driveway, his windows down, hair flowing through the wind.

He looks so carefree despite how important his job is, and it makes you a little envious of his lighthearted personality. He must have a happy life out of work because you swear no one is this lax with a job like his.

“Good afternoon to you too, Y/n,” he gives you a big smile, his little satchel wrapped around him as he makes his way over to you.

It’s been about a week since Jun has been patrolling the nieghbourhood, and Seungkwan’s asked a few questions about the cute but odd guy frequenting your house. The quickest lie that you could come up with was that he’s your best friend visiting from the city. You told him that he works at the home office and that he comes over from time to time to work on another project with you.

After that day, Seungkwan stopped asking so many questions, leaving you alone to sit and read with Vernon on their porch.

“Do you want to have lunch with me and Mingyu?” you ask him. “He made enough that I know we would have leftovers otherwise.”

“My wife packs my lunch actually and she doesn’t like it when I come home with a full container.” He shrugs, taking out the cutely wrapped rilakkuma bento box from his satchel.

“What! That’s so cute, I bet you love her lunch boxes,” you giggle, marveling at how much care his wife had gone into packing him food for the day.

He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a bashful laugh, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his wife.

“Well she’s the only one whose food tastes exactly like my mom’s, maybe I’ll bring her around so you can meet her!” Jun’s eyes shine as he talks about his wife, obviously, head over heels for her.

You find it endearing how much his demeanor changes from silly Jun to an in-love Jun. The tight feeling in your chest doesn’t subside as you watch how he goes on about her, and their cats Open, Close, and Lock. It makes you wonder if anyone would talk about you that way, even when you’re not there, or when it’s not some lie to tell to your neighbours and their friends.

“That’s so sweet Jun, what’s her name?” you ask, wondering if you could make a new friend out of her too.

“June!” he replies, his smile as bright as the afternoon sun.

“Her name is also June?” you try to get more clarification on her name.

As if Jun himself couldn’t get any weirder, he has three cats named Open, Close, and Lock, as well as a wife with the same name as him. You try to process all this information but you feel like it’s too early in the day to be thinking so hard.

“Yeah! I’m Jun without an E and she’s June with an E,” he answers proudly.

You leave the Jun lore for another time, instead asking him about other things going on in his life. He’s not as bad as you thought he would be, and you find that he’s actually very fun to talk to. Jun’s actions are always so animated, using his hands a lot while he’s talking. It seems like you’ve made another friend yet again.

As you two make your way to the kitchen, Mingyu can hear your laughter ring through his ears. Two sets of footsteps make their way over to him, he knows Jun is just here because it’s his job but can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

“Hey Jun,” Mingyu greets him flatly, not really into the fact that he’s the reason his wife is laughing so hard right now.

He has no right to feel jealous but he can’t help it, especially after the kiss you two shared the other day. The two of you haven’t gotten that intimate since that kiss in the kitchen and even though he wants it to happen again, it has to be on your terms. Even though he craves you with each waking hour, he wants to make sure he isn’t overstepping any boundaries.

“Jun is going to eat with us for lunch, is that okay?” You go up to him, placing a hand on his bicep before giving it a squeeze.

Mingyu’s cheeks flush at your small gesture of affection, his eyes moving from where your hand is placed to your eyes. Looking up at him with doe eyes, you smile at him. Even though he doesn’t like the idea of you and Jun laughing together, he could never say no to you.

“Yeah, of course,” he returns your smile and you whisper a small thank you before placing a kiss on his cheek, walking away to watch T.V. with Jun on the couch.

He stands at the stove, a pan of grilled chicken to pair with your salads. A hand comes up to touch the cheek that you kissed, he smiles to himself as he continues to cook lunch for you two.

It seems as though every day he spends with you, the harder he’s falling. He can’t help it, especially when you’re much more affectionate with him now.

He fantasizes about the day you decide to no longer sleep in separate rooms across the hall from each other, and getting to wake up to you and your beautiful face every morning. He watches you laugh with Jun in the living room and silently wishes that you’ll fall as hard as he has.

ten.

With every passing day, the more you worry about Seungcheol’s whereabouts. You’re safe here, and people are looking over you but you can’t help but be paranoid. You wonder if you’re going to have to live every day in fear. But thankfully, with Mingyu beside you, it becomes a little more bearable.

It wasn’t until today that you realized that you could finally breathe right. You awoke to another call from Jihoon, who seems to only call about important matters early in the morning. He suggests that you get Mingyu, wanting both of you to be on the call.

Your mind is spiraling. The last time Jihoon called he had given you bad news.

“What’s wrong Jihoon?” you ask him apprehensively, not sure if you’re mentally prepared to hear what he has to say.

Both you and Mingyu sat on the couch with bated breaths, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Mingyu has an arm around you, your legs on top of his as he holds you close. He didn’t even have to say anything, his silence was enough to indicate how nervous he was.

“Guys, don’t be so nervous, now I’m getting nervous!” he sighs.

“I can’t take this, just say it already, you’re killing me over here Ji,” Mingyu whines, squeezing you a little tighter to soothe his nerves.

“Well, we found him. Jun was able to put him in custody and he’s been at the station for a couple of hours now,” he finally reveals, hearing the two of you squeal like a bunch of school girls over the speakers. “I know you don’t want to see him Y/n, but if you want you can come down and talk to him. Closure and shit.”

Mingyu looks over at you the moment Jihoon mentions you visiting your ex, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head. To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready to face him, but a part of you is curious about what he’s like now.

“Okay, I’ll visit him, but only if Mingyu comes with me,” you mutter, playing with the hem of Mingyu’s shirt absentmindedly.

You think of all the scenarios that could play out the moment you meet with Seungcheol again, but you know that if you want to shed the rest of your old self. You need to finally face him and gain the closure you deserve.

And the closure that Seungcheol deserves too.

��

For the rest of the day, you and Mingyu have a little self-care night before your confrontation with Seungcheol. Your nerves are at an all-time high, even Norbert could tell you were anxious; constantly staying by your side, even when you were showering, working, or eating.

You weren’t sure what you were going to say to Seungcheol when you see him, or how you’re going to even feel. It’s been years since you’ve faced him, you just know that if Mingyu is there everything will be alright.

For some reason, Mingyu’s presence always calms you down. His comforting words and strong demeanor help you stay afloat in your deep sea of worries. Just like Norbert, you don’t think he realizes these past few months with him have helped you overcome a lot of your paranoia. The more you got to know him, the more you recognized how soft and loving he really is, despite his past.

“You have to stay still, okay?” you mumble as you continue to slather the face mask all over Mingyu’s skin.

Sat on top of the bathroom counter, Mingyu stood between your legs as you concentrated on the task at hand. His own hands placed on the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to finish.

When he proposed a self-care night, you didn’t think he’d agree to go as far as doing skin care with you. Obviously, you were very wrong, and it kind of warms your heart that he’s willing to do even something as silly as this and then watch Bluey with you on the couch.

“Y/n, it tickles,” he whines, hands gripping harder on your thighs as he fights the urge to laugh.

“Do not laugh! You’ll ruin it,” you try not to giggle, your own face mask starting to crack.

“Okay, sorry but you look so silly right now,” he chuckles, his eyes trained on you.

Even with your hair tied up and a fluffy bunny-ear face wash headband, he still finds you beautiful. It doesn't matter to him what you look like, just the fact that you’re here, with him, it’s all he needs to be happy.

“Done!” you flash a proud smile before hopping off the counter.

Before you can leave the bathroom, Mingyu grabs your wrist and turns you around till you're flush with his chest. You raise an eyebrow at him, unsure of what he’s plotting right now. Instead of saying anything more he just places a peck on your lips before whispering a small “thank you”, letting you two carry on with your night.

You just laugh and shake your head at him before heading over to the couch to watch more episodes of Bluey. Norbert claims his rightful spot beside you while Mingyu sits on your other side.

Tomorrow may be scary and you have a lot of thoughts running through your head, but spending the night peacefully with Mingyu and Norbert silences your worries enough to relax in the meantime. What you don’t expect is the constant thought of wondering if this is what your life would be like every day if you decide to stay in Bridgewater after the year is over.

eleven.

The car ride to the police station is quiet. Mingyu’s hand is in yours as he tries to console your overthinking. There isn’t much he can say to help you at this moment, but the least he can do is show you that he’s here. He doesn’t want to say anything that could potentially overwhelm you, he just wants to show you how much he cares.

By the time the car reaches the station, your palms are drenched in sweat, but you want to stay strong. You want Seungcheol to know how happy you are now, without him. You want him to see how different you are now after all these years, how you’re better off without his tainted love.

“Y/n, Mingyu,” Jihoon greets you at the door, nodding to you.

The ever so stoic Jihoon. He’s a man of very few words but you could tell that he was rooting for you.

The walk over to where Seungcheol was being interrogated felt longer than normal, but in reality, it only took a few seconds to reach the door. Jihoon gives you a look before opening the door, one that’s silently asking you if you’re sure. You only nod with a determined gleam in your eyes, allowing him to unlock the door and letting you see your ex after so many years.

His black hair looks the same it did all that time ago, except it was longer now and a little messy from him running his fingers through it. You could tell he was exhausted, and it broke your heart a little.

There are feelings of anger resurfacing the moment your eyes lock with his, but also feelings of sorrow and pity. You’re reminded of all the memories you made with him, the happiness, the sadness, and the solace in between. But you grieved the loss of your love with him a long time ago, and even though there are fragments of those feelings now, it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“Y/n,” Seungcheol’s voice cracks upon seeing you.

Your chest burns and it feels like all the air in your lungs has dissipated. There’s a dullness to his gaze, almost like he’s a mere shell of the person he used to be. You should’ve known that Seungcheol lost his soul all those years ago when he decided to sell it for never-ending wealth. But here he is, in front of you: defeated, tired, heartbroken. There’s a small part of you that will always care for him, yet you know that you’ll never love him the way you used to.

“Cheol,” you whisper, your back against the door, your body not wanting to get any closer to him than you have to.

“Y/n, please I never wanted us to end up this way, please. Please,” he tries to beg, to stand up, but his hands are handcuffed to the table. His wrists have turned red from trying to escape from his chains. It’s no use, he won’t ever be able to get as close as he is now.

A single tear falls from your eyes watching his desperate attempts to reach you. But the room feels far too big now like the two of you are miles apart. So you stay put and tell him what you’ve been wanting to say after so many years.

“You dug your own grave, Seungcheol. I tried, I did. But how could you keep all that information from me? Selling illegal weapons may be one thing, but involving all those innocent people? Did you lose your damn mind? I couldn’t live with myself knowing how many people you hurt. Then you turned to drug trafficking? Did you really think I could marry someone like that?” you raise your voice at the end.

Your chest is heaving from not taking a single breath to stop, to think, just saying whatever your heart is telling you to say.

“Y/n, please! Hear me out, I want to make it work-” he begs and begs, but you cut him off.

“There’s nothing to work out.”

“I just wanted to have a secure future with you, I was going to quit after our wedding, please you have to believe me,” he keeps going, but you don’t want to hear it anymore.

You scoff at his attempt to justify his actions, but you know better. The man in front of you will say anything to get you back into his life, but you don’t buy his bullshit. The more money he earned, the greedier he got, and the higher his ambitions got, he wasn't the man he was when you first met him. The constant reminder of him leading a dark path keeps you grounded.

“You lost me the moment you decided to hurt people who don’t deserve it.” Your voice is stern, you don’t want to continue to drag this out knowing all he’s going to do is plead for you to come back to him.

“Y/n please, I can’t live without you, even after all these years, I can’t sleep, nothing. I need you.” The tears begin to leave his eyes, but you do your best to stay strong.

All you can do is shake your head at him, his words going through one ear and out the other. His sobs and pleading shake you to your core, but it doesn’t hurt to hear after knowing all the evil things he’s done.

“But I don’t need you, I’m happy, I’m in love again. I have friends that care about me,” you countered.

You're breathing heavily, trying to stay as calm as possible. You had no more tears left to shed for him.

“It’s Mingyu isn’t it?” he asks, but you don’t give him any indication that his prediction is correct.

Your heartbeat picks up at the mention of Mingyu’s name, and you’re not sure how Seungcheol found out about the two of you. At this point you don’t even care, because the happiness you deserve is waiting for you outside the very door you stand against. No one will get in the way of the reason why you’re able to breathe right again, especially not Seungcheol.

“That doesn't matter,” you defended, not wanting to speak to him for any longer.

“But it does. Just tell me it’s not Mingyu, anyone but him please,” he continues to cry, the rattling of his handcuffs burning your eardrums.

You’ve gotten your closure, the figurative shackles that Seungcheol had you in are finally broken. There’s a sense of relief to being able to face him without completely breaking down. Your heart no longer belongs to him, and neither do your fearful thoughts.

“I don’t owe you anything anymore Seungcheol. Goodbye.” You end the conversation, turning around to close the door without looking back.

His pleading can be heard through the metal, but you don’t dare turn back, you don’t dare to let him have his hold on you anymore. Closing the door of the interrogation room felt like closing the door to a chapter of life. And finally, after everything that has happened, you feel free.

“You’re in love with me?” Mingyu’s voice is heard through all the commotion.

He stands there with a hopeful look in his eyes, a small smile dancing along his lips. You roll your eyes at him as if it wasn’t already obvious how much you care for your fake husband.

Walking up to him, you engulf him in a tight hug, your head buried in his chest as tears of relief leave your eyes.

“Of course I’m in love with you, you big idiot,” you laugh, holding him tighter, so tight that you’re sure that he’ll never leave your side, even if he wanted to.

twelve.

The drive back to the house felt like a breath of fresh air. Wind blowing through your hair with the windows rolled down, Mingyu’s hand on your thigh, music blasting through the speakers. It felt like freedom.

“Can I hear you say it again?” Mingyu turns to you while he’s stopped at a red light, his puppy-dog eyes are too cute to resist.

“I love you,” you smile at him, placing your hand on top of his.

The glistening in his eyes looked like it came straight out of a movie, they glittered in the sunlight, a reflection of his very being.

“I love you too, did you know that?” he blushes, giving you a sweet kiss before returning his attention to the road.

The two of you stay quiet for the rest of that way back, savouring the sweet moment. You still can’t wrap your head around everything that has happened during your stay at Bridgewater, especially because you’ve somehow found love again. A love that’s sweet, one that doesn’t feel as worrisome.

“Home sweet home!” Mingyu announces the moment the car rolls into the driveway.

You’re brought out of your thoughts and Mingyu gets out to open the door for you. The second the door closes he cages you between him and the side of the car. His lips softly hit yours and you moan out of surprise. The kiss is slow and sweet, and butterflies erupt in your stomach immediately.

You haven’t kissed him properly since that day in the kitchen but you don’t mind the wait. If anything it causes you to feel hungry for more. Mingyu’s hands on your waist are pulling you tighter with each passing second, but making out in the middle of your driveway, where everyone in the neighbourhood can see, pulls you out of your lustful thoughts.

“Let’s go inside?” You detach your lips from his, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards the front door.

Once you two are inside, without any potential prying eyes you pull him back into a kiss. It’s sloppy and filled with more passion than the previous times you two were this close. You don’t want to stop feeling him against you. The firm grip he has on your waist travels under your shirt, his hands against your bare skin leaving a burning sensation in the best way.

There’s a silent agreement between the two of you. You both know where this is heading but no one stops to take a break, to tell the other that it is time to let go. You continue to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue glide against his, your fingers running through his hair. It's addicting, Mingyu’s lips are intoxicating and all you want is to get lost in the arousal.

“I wanna make you feel good, so good till all you can remember is me, no one else,” Mingyu mumbles against your neck, his lips trailing lower as you whimper in approval. “Tell me, is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you feel him lick and suck the skin on your collarbone.

Backing away, you can see how the love and adoration in his eyes are tainted with hunger. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, there’s a darkness to his gaze and you gulp silently. Waiting for him to show you how badly he wants to fuck you, how badly he needs to see you whimper and moan for him.

Without another word you bring him to your room, closing the door behind you so Norbert can’t interrupt like he did last time.

The door is against your back once again and Mingyu towers over you, caging you with his body. His scent fills your senses, your knees going weak as he continues to stare at you with those hooded lids, his attention on you and you only.

His hand trails against your jaw till he stops at your chin, tilting your face up so that your eyes are leveled with his. He licks his lips as he watches you, wanting nothing but to take you then and there. But he has so much planned, he can’t get too hasty, especially because the thought of you cumming for him over and over continues to plague his mind.

“I want you to sit on the bed, and to be a good girl and take what I give you,” Mingyu mutters, his hand moving closer to your lips till his thumb pulls your bottom lip down.

You don’t argue, moving away once again to do what he says. This is the Mingyu you used to know. The one who spent half his life in the mafia, the one who could command a whole room with a single word.

Following behind you, he waits till you get comfortable on the bed before sitting down between your already spread legs. He captures you into a kiss once more, letting himself savour the taste of you. Your hands move across the expanse of his back, slowly lifting his shirt along the way and feeling his large muscles tense under your gentle fingers.

“Fuck me, please,” you beg him, and your voice is strained, the words leaving your mouth in whimpers.

Mingyu chuckles at your desperation as he removes the rest of his clothing, but your mind is buzzing like crazy. It’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone that you forgot how good it feels to be held, to be kissed.

“Be patient baby, we’ll get to that eventually,” he grunts, lifting your shirt and removing the remainder of your clothes till you're bare.

Marveling at your naked figure, Mingyu forces himself to stop drooling over how sexy you look in front of him. You’re so small compared to him, his large hands opening up your thighs to reveal your awaiting arousal.

“You’re already fucking soaking,” he mutters as he prods with your folds. His fingers move gingerly as he teases you.

His arms push your thighs till they’re flush with your stomach, giving him clear access to where you need him most. Trailing kisses along your inner thighs, your head hits the pillow as you moan out for him. You’re over-sensitive from not being touched by another person in so long, his lips leaving burning sensations on your skin.

Your pussy is dripping on the sheets the moment he presses a kiss to your clit. Clenching around nothing, you continue to moan out his name, and it makes him smile against you. Hearing you call out for him is like music to his ears, your voice sweet like honey.

“Keep doing that, please Mingyu,” you whine, your hands coiling around the strands of his hair, nails raking his scalp.

Groaning against your mound, he continues to play with your clit. Licking and sucking it while his fingers enter your weeping hole. The sounds of his long digits moving in and out of you fill the room, and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm.

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you praise him, and it strokes his ego, his movements picking up in pace.

The squelching noises only increase in volume, his fingers hitting that soft spot inside you that makes your legs shake and your vision goes white. Practically screaming his name, the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum against his mouth. His tongue moved against your slit to drink up your juices, wanting to feel you fill his mouth with your sweet nectar.

His eyes remain trained on yours while he’s lying between your legs, you run your hands through his hair as you come down from your high. The words can’t seem to leave your lips and your mind is filled with euphoria. If he can do all that with just his mouth and fingers you wonder what will happen when he’s finally inside you.

“God, you’re so needy. Probably haven’t been fucked properly in so long, huh baby?” he coos as he moves up your body, lips against your ear as he continues to mutter dirty words.

“Need someone to take care of you? Is that what you need? Need your husband to fuck a baby into you,” he keeps going and your eyes roll back and he fondles your tits.

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles, twisting at your hardened nipples as your pussy clenches at the thought of being filled with his cum.

“You like it when I talk about fucking you till that tight little cunt of yours is stuffed full of my cum?” Mingyu’s mouth continues to spew words of breeding you, and his growing erection is harder to ignore.

“I want it so bad, want you to fuck a baby in me, Gyu,” you sigh, your salacious moans bouncing off the walls as he flips you around.

Ass in the air, he gives the supple skin a sharp slap and you shriek. But it feels so good, the sting of his large palm hitting you hard. He can see how much you’re enjoying it, kneading your full mounds as his head fills with thoughts of fucking you in this position.

“Please just fuck me already, I wanna feel you inside me.” You’re weeping now, face smushed into the pillow.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks you, pulling you by your hips till your back is arched.

The neediness inside you is at its highest point, and you can’t seem to form any words as you feel his fingers glide against your soaked hole. Moans can’t stop leaving your lips and you’re already sensitive from your first orgasm.

Placing a pillow under your stomach, he continues to manhandle you into the position he wants you in. Face down, ass up, your legs are spread, and your wet entrance is all ready for him. Mingyu grabs his hard cock, stroking it a few times before spitting on your cunt, and you jolt at the hot liquid hitting your folds.

“Fuck, you’re tight, I should’ve prepped you more,” Mingyu groans, his length slowly forcing its way past your entrance.

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel him starting to fill you. The stretch is agonizing but the burn sends tingles of pleasure up your spine. It felt so fucking good having him inside you like this, your mind full of nothing but the shape of his cock.

“I want it hard, fuck me hard,” you tell him, your voice shaking as he continues to enter you.

“Okay baby, but just know I won’t be gentle anymore,” he warns you and maybe you shouldn’t have been so eager, but that primal part in you just wanted him so bad.

Once he has himself fully sheathed in your heat, he pulls back until only the tip is left. You gasp at the sudden empty feeling, but you're quickly silenced when he dives back in. His hips slapping against your ass, his balls hitting your clit. Mingyu’s stamina is insanely high as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so big, I-I can’t!” you cry out, your screams picking up in pitch till you're moaning like a porn star.

“So fucking tight, baby you’re driving me crazy,” Mingyu continues to grunt, his movements not slowing down for even a second.

His hands move to grip your hips tightly, he stops for a split second to stop his thrusts. You thought you were going to be able to catch your breath. But he just keeps surprising you. The hands that he placed on your hips tighten and he moves you up and down on his cock while he stays still. Using you like his personal sex doll, but fuck, it felt amazing. You love that he’s using you, placing your body in whatever position he wants to chase his own pleasure.

“You’re so perfect, I could fuck this pussy till I’m empty,” he mutters, watching his dick disappear inside you.

There's a white ring of arousal around the base of his length, and his mind goes blank. All he can do is continue to bounce you up and down his member till he can feel himself start to twitch inside you.

“I’m gonna cum, baby you feel so good inside me,” you scream for him, loving the way the ridges of your walls continue to suck him up, your orgasm hitting you once again,

There's something so nasty about him using your body, and you’re enjoying all of it. You love how he’s just taking what he wants, yet he still knows how to make you cum. Your pussy is swollen from the beating it’s taking, but you want more. You want him to keep going till he has nothing left to give you.

The feeling of Mingyu twitching inside your walls indicates that he’s close, and you continue to clench around him. Wanting to milk him of his seed, wanting to feel his cum hit your cervix and breed you.

“Gonna cum inside you, okay baby?” he warns you before stilling his movements.

His cock twitches again till you feel his hot white cum spurt inside your walls, flooding your cunt with his seed. Mingyu groans, watching the liquid fill you and breach past your tight hole till it gushes out. The sight is so unholy, so sinful but he can’t just stop there. No, he won’t stop till you’re stuffed properly.

“M-mingyu, baby,” you whine, your body flopping onto the mattress as he lets you go.

Your legs turn to jelly as you shake from how hard you came, your breathing labored. He turns you around so you're splayed out for him, prying your legs open to watch his cum fall out of your pussy in thick globs. It’s so mesmerizing, hypnotizing, he wants to see more of it. To fill you with more of his seed.

“We’re not done,” he smiles as you cheekily and you laugh.

“You want more after all of that?” you question him, your breathing still harsh from the previous round.

“Baby, after all of that, I don’t think I can stop,” he mutters against your lips, and you nod, agreeing with his statement.

He switches your positions, his back against the headboard while you sit on his lap. The refractory period doesn't seem to exist with Mingyu because his erection is standing proudly in front of you.

“You wanna go again?” he asks you, one hand on your hip as the other rubs his cock as it glistens with a mixture of both of your arousals.

“I want you to use me till you can’t anymore,” you lean over, whispering in his ear.

“Careful, you might regret that later,” he mutters, a hand around your neck as he halts your movements.

Pulling him into a heated kiss, you position his length against your entrance, lifting your body till you can fully sink down on him. Even after the first round, your pussy still can’t get used to the stretch that his cock gives you. It's a delicious feeling, his length is so long and thick you can feel it in your stomach.

“Ah!” you cry out, your head thrown back as you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders.

Mingyu moans back, mesmerized by the view of your tits bouncing up and down in front of his face. His cock disappeared inside you once more, the sight making him feral, hungry to see you filled to the brim with his semen.

Your orgasm comes around faster this time and your walls convulse around him once more. The heat, the wetness, the silky feeling of your cunt makes Mingyu go delirious, thoughts only filled with you and you only. Stilling your hips, his own high follows yours shortly after, his cum hitting your insides till it covers his softening member all over again.

You let out a puff of breath, leaning into his chest as your face rested in the crook of his neck. Mingyu rubs your back soothingly, his dick going soft and falling out of your entrance. Whimpering at the loss of him being inside you, you hold him tighter. The feelings of exhaustion are finally catching up to you, but you know you’ll have to clean up soon enough.

“You know I love you, right?” he reminds you as he lifts you up and off the bed to head to the shower. You can only nod, your mind and body too tired to respond.

Setting you on the counter, his back turns away from you while he prepares your bath, getting the water warm for you. You notice the large dragon tattoo that coils along his skin. It surprises you that you haven’t noticed it before, but the black ink on him is undeniably sexy.

Once the water is warm enough, he carries you to the shower before cleaning you up properly. You love that he’s back to his soft and kind self, and it makes you fall for him even harder. The hard sex was so good but what’s important to you is the fact that he’s so keen on taking care of you after.

Mingyu’s hand snakes around your waist as your head lays against his shoulder, pressing lazy kisses while you whisper words of gratitude.

“Thank you, I love you too,” you mumble, adorning him with pecks along his warm tan skin.

epilogue.

“This whole fucking time,” Seungkwan stares at you with wide eyes, “I fucking KNEW it.”

You scoff at him, he just had to be right about everything and it annoys you, but here you are again, in his home for drinks and dessert.

“Sure you did, Kwannie,” you sigh, patting his shoulder.

“I swear I did! Right, babe? They were suspicious from the start,” he continues to argue, roping in Vernon who gives him a shrug of his shoulders before returning his attention to his phone.

It was time for you and Mingyu to break the news about your fake relationship with everyone. You felt bad for deceiving people, and now that you two were actually in love, it just felt right to put the fake marriage thing in the past.

“Please, we weren’t that obvious,” you defend, not wanting to give Seungkwan the bragging rights to actually be right this whole time.

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes at you before taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anymore, he’s just happy that his suspicions have been correct this whole time.

“Does this mean you’re going to leave soon?” He looks at you with desperate eyes, taking your hands in his.

“Well, we’ve talked about it, and Mingyu and I have decided to stay,” you smile at him from where he sits across the room, talking about something unimportant with Jeonghan and Val. “So don’t worry, I’ll still be your neighbour. Bridgewater actually seems like the perfect place for us right now.”

“Oh thank god! I don’t think I could live happily ever again if you moved away, Y/nie.” He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but laugh at his dramatics.

Seungkwan may have started as a pestering neighbour, but you can’t help but feel grateful towards him. If it weren’t for his annoying attitude, you and Mingyu probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to pretend to be in love. You could say that Seungkwan was one the biggest reasons why you and Mingyu fell so hard for each other in the first place.

…

A few days after solidifying your relationship with Mingyu, you two decided that it wouldn’t be too bad to stay here after all. Seungcheol was sentenced guilty during trial and Jihoon informed you that there's no more reason for you to be put into witness protection. Everything just seemed like it was all falling into place, and you’re happier than you have been in so long.

Even Norbert has finally warmed up to Mingyu. Sometimes when your work day is over, you’ll spot them cuddling on the couch and watching Bluey together. He always talks to Norbert, asking him questions even though the cat can’t answer. It warms your heart knowing that the two beings that healed you from a world’s worth of hurt can get along. They both came into your life when you needed it most, and every day you're thankful that you’re surrounded by so much love.

“Watching Bluey without me?” you ask out loud, your arms crossed as you pretend to be mad.

“Baby! You’re done!” Mingyu practically flies off the couch to capture you in a bone-crushing hug.

“You know you can come into my office when I’m working,” you laugh as you rub his back, savouring the feeling of his large and muscular arms holding you.

“I know but I don’t want to distract you, even Norbert doesn't go in,” he mumbles, inhaling your scent as if he didn’t wake up beside you that very morning.

“You’re silly, Mingyu,” you laugh, kissing his cheek.

He blushes like a schoolgirl before giving you the biggest grin known to man. His eyes sparkling against the living room lighting, you can tell he’s head over heels for you. Mingyu isn’t afraid to show affection or to be vulnerable, he just wants to be with you, no matter how good or bad things get.

“Can’t I just be happy my wife is off work?” He sighs lovingly, brushing your hair through his fingers, refusing to let you go.

You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is, but he knows that you secretly love it. Especially since you act the same way with him whenever he goes out to run errands or when he tends to the garden.

“Your wife is hungry and tired, can we make more kimchi pancakes please?” you ask with puppy dog eyes.

Mingyu laughs at you before kissing your forehead, “Anything for the love of my life.”

Blushing at his words, you follow him into the kitchen to make the kimchi pancakes you had asked for. Putting on his pink ruffle apron, he gets down to business, always wanting to cook the best food for you.

Mingyu is satisfied knowing that he’s able to give you the life that you deserve. To love you on sunny days and even on rainy days. He’s never felt a love that was this secure, and he’s grateful that you feel the same way.

As you watch Mingyu cook, you think back to the first day you moved to Bridgewater. You misjudged him that first day and you’re so glad that he proved you wrong. He has been nothing but amazing since then. He’s patient, and kind, and he loves you even when you’re irritated or in a bad mood. For someone who used to be a part of the mafia, you would expect him to be rough around the edges, and intimidating, but he’s the complete opposite. He’s the perfect house husband.

end.

𖥔 a/n: you've reached the end of my hubbygyu fic! thank you for reading and please leave an ask or comment if you've enjoyed this story :)! but wait... there's more! this story will become a series that takes inspiration from the anime ( the way of the house husband) so please look forward to seeing more of wifey y/n and hubby gyu! thank you again ♡.

#mingyu #kim mingyu #svthub #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt fic #svt smut #svt x reader #wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}

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cleo-fox · 8 months ago

Text

Conquer

Part 1 of 5

Series Masterlist

Summary: The king intends to take a bride.

You just never thought it would be you.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: I’m kind of fascinated by the concept of a soulmate AU where Loki wins and this is just another take on that thought. If you've read my fic Surrender, this one is a different universe (an AU of an AU? Is that a thing?)

I am indebted to @infinitystoner, who was kind enough to talk me through some of my doubts about this fic. This one is for you, K. (Also, everyone should go read her work, it's fabulous).

The king intends to take a bride.

At first you think it’s just a stupid rumor, but with time, it becomes clear that it’s not merely a stupid rumor, but a true rumor about a stupid plan. He hasn’t found his soulmate; the speculation is that this is about producing an heir or something similar. Which is also stupid because he’s the one who took over your fucking planet. He can make new rules for succession if he wants to. He doesn’t have to make other people suffer.

You, like most people, still harbor a lot of anger and resentment toward Loki.

You don’t know who he’s going to rope into this plan, but you feel bad for her already. Imagine not only having to be married to that monster, but being in this weird second place to whoever is unfortunate enough to be his soulmate. Imagine having to fuck him, to try and have his kid, all the while knowing you’ll be discarded once he finds his soulmate. Imagine having to go along with all of this and never being able to say what you really think.

The only person you feel sorrier for is whoever turns out to be his soulmate.

Later, all of this will strike you as absurdly ironic.

But you don’t know any of that yet.

You took a job at the hotel because you needed a change of pace after Loki took over. It was just a front desk job—you checked people in and out, answered questions, and said “let me get my manager” whenever there was a serious problem with a guest. It wasn’t glamorous or fun, but it was straightforward and you never had to bring work home with you.

The one thing that you never really considered was whether you were inadvertently choosing a job that would bring you into closer proximity to the man you were trying so desperately hard to not think about at all.

You probably should have considered it—you knew when you took the job that he did a fair amount of travel. You never really understood why—he conquered the entire fucking planet, you think he’d be content to just chill in his palace or whatever. But no. He was constantly on the move, constantly showing up and demanding to be accommodated, and people put up with it because what else are they supposed to do? You can’t exactly persona non grata the guy that successfully took over your planet and made himself king. If that worked, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.

You kind of assumed that he wouldn’t show up to your hotel—it wasn’t conveniently located to anything useful and while it technically had a five star rating, you didn’t think it offered the same caliber of accommodations as the places he was known to stay.

As it turns out, you were wrong on all counts. Hilariously wrong. Because now his steward is here in your hotel lobby. Or his…emissary? You’re not sure what this guy’s official title is. You recognize him from the news—he can often be spotted in the entourage of guards and staff that accompany Loki everywhere, but you don’t know his name. He is rattling off a monologue of sorts—the king requires accommodations, only the finest rooms, and so on. You feel as though you are having an out of body experience as you click through the booking software and confirm that the penthouse is available. You breathe an inner sigh of relief—it would have been manageable to evict whichever rich person had booked it, but it would have fucked up the cleaning crew’s scheduling for at least the next week and you know that corporate is already up Marisol’s ass about your location’s overtime.

You don’t really expect him to show up during this transaction. If you had, you would have said “let me get my manager” and washed your hands of it—you don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with self-proclaimed kings. But as you are booking the room (who the fuck are you supposed to list as the guarantor on the invoice? This wasn’t covered in your training), Loki storms in, followed by a cadre of guards.

You’re not really prepared to see him in person—that’s partly why you freeze. He’s so tall and well…real. It sounds stupid, but it’s jarring seeing him in front of you instead of on a screen or in a picture. He’s not exactly more frightening, but looking at him makes your pulse quicken.

He’s scolding the steward (emissary?) about something—you’re so distracted that you miss exactly what it is that has him so annoyed.

And then you realize that the mark on your left wrist is burning.

You swallow hard. No. Not him.

Loki looks up and his eyes lock with yours.

Fucking hell.

The wedding is a spectacle, to say the least.

Your dress is fucking ridiculous. Instead of the traditional white, you are draped in yards of green fabric covered in thousands of emeralds and diamonds and painstakingly embroidered with thread made of real gold and silver. It is very much a statement about who you are and who you belong to. You don’t care for it, but you don’t really have a choice—the details of the ceremony have been largely left to other people to decide. Part of you thinks they must have been planning for this for years, based on the number of things that are already prepared. Or maybe having access to magic negates the need for planning ahead.

You are much too angry to actually ask Loki about any of this. Not that you see much of him before the ceremony anyway.

You go through the motions of the ceremony, trying to keep your cool. It’s only been a week since he found you at the hotel, so the fact that you haven’t consummated your soulbond is more akin to an annoying itch than anything more disruptive, but when he kisses you at the conclusion of the ceremony, it's…intense, to say the least. The mild ache that settled itself between your thighs last week seems to swell, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. When he slides his tongue past your lips, all you want to do is release a wanton moan directly into his mouth and rub yourself shamelessly against him. The fact that you’re standing on a platform while the entire world looks on is really the only thing that stops you.

The fact that this is your immediate reaction scares you a bit. You know it’s biology—soulbonds are meant to be consummated isn’t just a saying—but there’s part of you that feels like you should have a stronger handle on that impulse. You are mad at him, you remind yourself. He took over your entire planet, installed himself as king, and then had the audacity to be your soulmate. Focus. Be angry.

You wonder if your family and friends are watching. Your phone ran out of battery the night after he found you and you haven’t had the heart to charge it. You’re barely managing your own emotional reaction—you’re not ready to invite anyone else into it just yet.

The rest of your wedding day is a blur. You meet a bunch of important people and retain exactly none of their names or roles. There is an elaborate multi-course feast and you manage to eat without spilling food on your dress, which feels like a small miracle. You meet more important people and somehow retain even less information. You dance—a few dances with important people whose names you’ve forgotten, but mostly with Loki. The sun sets. They bring out an elaborate dessert course. You dance again. Loki’s hand on your waist fans the flames of desire that you’re trying so hard to ignore.

Finally, you’re whisked away to prepare for bed. It took three people to get you into your dress, and it takes just as many to get you out. They help you into a nightgown that you also didn’t get to pick out—and in fact, it’s the first time you’re seeing it at all. It’s almost too pretty to sleep in, though you suppose that’s the point—you’re supposed to fall asleep naked and sated in the arms of your new husband (god, it’s so weird that you have a husband). You’re not so sure that this is the specific fate that’s in your cards, but you anticipate the nightgown will be coming off at some point this evening. In the interim, you look stereotypically virginal in white lace and chiffon, a glittering emerald pendant resting in your cleavage.

You’ve been staying in a guest suite since he found you, but tonight, they bring you to his rooms. Your rooms, you suppose. Somehow, you doubt he’s the sort who believes that husbands and wives should sleep separately.

The lights are on, but it’s quiet. You wonder if he’s even here.

You approach the couch that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. You can see fireworks and twinkling lights of different celebrations and your stomach clenches like a fist. It’s supposed to be in honor of you. Earth’s new queen. A title that shouldn’t even exist, let alone belong to you.

You turn away from the window and sit down on the couch. You stare at the wall, hands twisting the delicate fabric of your nightgown in your lap.

You hear a sound in the other room—his study, you think—and your heart leaps to your throat, practically buzzing with an emotion that feels like the strange cousin of anxiety and anticipation.

You keep your eyes locked on the wall as you listen to his footsteps draw closer.

“It’s customary to announce yourself when you enter someone’s quarters, you know.”

You pause for a moment before letting your gaze trail to him. It’s a conscious, obnoxious power play on your part—you are trying to show him that you still have agency, that he has not yet won your respect or admiration.

You’re not even sure that it registers, which only serves to irritate you further.

He is still wearing most of his wedding clothes, though he’s taken off the fine surcoat from the ceremony, exposing the soft tunic he was wearing underneath. He is smirking—that seems to be his expression of choice, you’ve noticed.

“Aren’t these my rooms too?” you ask. “Is it customary to announce myself in my own space?”

You are trying to be rude, but it doesn’t seem to matter: he simply laughs.

“You are spirited,” he says, looking you over appreciatively, stirring a wild and burning need in your hips, slickness collecting in the lacy white underwear that had been chosen for you.

“And you intend to break me, is that it?” you snap with more venom than is perhaps wise.

“Of course not.” His answer surprises you, though you are determined to not let that show in your face. “Your will is part of your appeal. I’d no sooner crush a rose beneath my boot.”

You are skeptical of this claim given the amount of damage he did to New York City, but your traitorous cunt throbs at his words nonetheless.

“I’m not happy about any of this, you know,” you say, hoping that your anger will act like roiling floodwaters on the firestorm of lust that’s continuing to build in your hips.

It doesn’t, of course. What’s worse: he laughs. Again.

“I’d gathered,” he says. “You are wonderfully unsubtle when you’re angry.”

“I mean, are you surprised?” you say irritably. “I didn’t even get to pick out my own wedding dress, for fuck’s sake.”

“This is the burden of the office, I’m afraid,” he says. “Your wants and desires are often secondary to the needs of the crown.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from screaming at him. “I think you’re missing the point.”

“I think you’ll find I’m not.”

You let out one long breath. “Are you trying to irritate me?”

Another smirk. “I’m afraid I simply have a gift for it.”

You finally give in and scowl. “Great. This is going about as well as I had expected.”

His eyes drift down the column of your throat to the emerald pendant resting in your cleavage and then to the bodice of your nightgown. “Perhaps it’s time we concern ourselves with activities that require less talking.” He licks his lips and brings his gaze back up to yours.

“I’m not entirely convinced anything would stop you from talking,” you say.

“I suspect letting me bury my tongue in your cunt might do the trick.”

For the first time today, you are entirely speechless. The fire burning low in your hips roars into an inferno, like someone has poured accelerant along your nerves and Loki has struck a match. You take in one shaky breath, your heart thrumming in your throat.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a dark sort of smugness. “To bed, wife.”

You steadfastly ignore the way your stomach jumps when he calls you ‘wife.’ Why is that hot? It shouldn’t be hot.

You’re tempted to argue with him some more—you don’t like giving him even the vaguest impression that you’re following his orders or anything like that—but one smoldering look from him has your heart pounding and another wave of fresh arousal flooding between your legs. You follow him to the bed, trying to keep your expression neutral and indifferent.

He pulls you firmly against him and you wonder if he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no space between you—you can feel his stomach muscles expand and contract with every slow intake of breath, the press of his slowly hardening cock against your stomach.

He tilts your face up to his and claims your mouth in a devouring kiss, and this time, the moan that you’d held back during the ceremony slips from your lips almost immediately. He makes a low growling noise in return, his hands sliding to the row of small pearl buttons that hold up the back of your nightgown.

You suspect that beyond aesthetic and functional value, the purpose of these buttons is to facilitate a slow, sexy reveal; Loki undoes exactly two and a half buttons before roughly pulling the edges of the fabric apart, the remaining buttons snapping from their threads and pinging against the floor.

You pull away from him, immediately annoyed. “Do you make a habit of ruining other people’s things? What if I wanted to wear that again?”

He laughs, tugging the fabric off your shoulders. “Perhaps you forget the extraordinary powers I have at my command,” he says, staring greedily at your breasts as he tugs the nightgown down your waist, pulling it off your hips so it falls to the floor. “I could tear this gown off you every night and remake it every morning with no more than a click of my fingers.”

Fucking magic powers undercutting your goddamn fucking point.

“Yeah, well, you’re still a jackass,” you say sourly, unwilling to concede the point any further.

His smile is sharp in a way that makes you shiver and he slips his hand into your underwear, his smile growing as he feels how slick you are. “It doesn’t seem to bother you all that much, does it?”

You try to keep your expression stern, but his fingers find your clit and you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

“Your sweet cunt is so ready to come.” He slides a finger into you and you whimper. “It’s obscene how wet you are for me.”

You bite back a plea and kiss him instead. His mouth is rough on yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue plundering your mouth. He slides a second finger into you and you keen.

“Yes,” he groans against your mouth. “Take it like a good girl.”

You clench around his fingers and your hands seek purchase in his hair. You tug on it lightly and he growls with pleasure before he pulls away, his hands moving to the waistband of your underwear and tugging it off your hips.

“Get on the bed.” His tone brooks no arguments. “Now.”

It’s tempting to talk back, tempting to resist. You are still angry about every aspect of this relationship and this stupid fucking wedding. But you know you need this—the dull ache in your hips is only growing more pronounced with every passing moment and the brief feeling of his fingers on your clit was nothing short of heaven. Soulbonds are meant to be consummated and your body seems to be doing everything it can to propel you toward that end.

You kick your underwear the rest of the way off before sitting down on the bed and lying back on the pillows.

He pauses for a moment to look you over, his gaze trailing lazily over your bare skin, his hand absently moving to palm his cock through his trousers. “Spread your legs,” he says. You do and you catch a breath of a groan from him as he stares at you. Your cunt throbs in response and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

He allows himself one moment before he crawls on the bed to join you. He kneels between your legs, staring greedily at your exposed cunt, running a thumb along the edge of your folds. Your hips rock upward involuntarily, chasing his hand, seeking friction.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he murmurs. “So soaking wet, so desperately needy for my touch.” He pauses again, licking his lips. “I think I might need a taste.”

Your breath stutters in your chest and he kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly licking and sucking his way upward in a tantalizing preview of what’s to come. You’re already soaking and you can feel yourself growing wetter as his sinful mouth draws closer and closer to your aching need.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a moan or a whine that passes your lips when he finally licks that first long, lazy stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit. He groans low and wanting against your cunt, his tongue rolling over your clit once more before he catches it between his lips and slowly begins to suck.

There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.

It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.

He is—predictably—infuriatingly smug about all of this.

Your first orgasm arrives so quickly that it seems to take you both by surprise. And indeed, he lifts his head moments later, already smirking.

“That was awfully quick, wife,” he says. The glint in his eye tells you that he absolutely noticed how you reacted to that name earlier and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from scowling.

“Maybe you’re out of practice,” you say. Even as you say it, it doesn’t sound convincing (it doesn’t even make sense when you think about it later) and Loki laughs outright.

“I think not,” he says, carefully sliding one long index finger inside of you. “I think your poor cunt has been sorely neglected, either by you or some subpar lover you took to ease the ache of missing me.” He adds a second finger and you bite your lip to keep in a moan. “I think you’ll be begging for me before the night is out.” His fingertips press teasingly against that spot inside you and you take in a sharp breath.

He starts lazily moving his fingers in and out of you and while it feels good, you know it’s not going to be enough to get you there. You suspect, from the way that he’s smirking, that he knows this, too.

“Do you want my mouth again? I don’t think you’re done.”

“You’re trying to be a jerk and I don’t like it,” you say.

He laughs and draws his thumb briefly over your clit. “Darling, I only want you to tell me what you want.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why?”

“I think you can understand the appeal of hearing a beautiful woman beg for your touch.”

His compliment immediately clashes with the suggestion that you begging for him is a possibility.

He smiles, catlike, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“You need my mouth again,” he says, fingers curling inside you. “You need more. I can feel how wet you are, sweet thing.” His thumb presses against your clit and retreats as soon as your breath hitches.

“I could keep you like this for hours. Days, even,” he says, lazily stroking his fingers inside you. “I could keep you right on the edge, begging for your release. But I don’t think you want that. Even I don’t want that. I think you want to come again right now and I think you want my mouth.”

“I’m not begging you for it,” you say.

“I’ve only asked you to tell me what you want,” he says. “I’ve merely expressed that I find the idea of you begging very appealing.”

You want to smack him. With your luck, though, that would turn out to be one of his kinks and then you’ll really be in for it. Your fingers flex against the sheets.

“Do you want to come, darling? Do you want my mouth again?” he asks with a feigned innocence that suggests it’s not a loaded question, even as the glint in his eyes tells you it is.

You’re silent for a beat and then his thumb returns to your clit, pressing and stroking as his fingers curl inside of you. Your hips rock with his hand and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning aloud when he stops a few seconds later, his eyebrows raised like he’s expecting your answer.

This exchange repeats four more times. On the fifth, you finally break.

“Please,” you whimper. You sound more desperate than you would prefer, but your overwhelming need to come has quickly superseded whatever shreds of decency you have left.

“Please what?” he asks, radiating smugness.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl, which he only laughs at.

“I’m waiting…” he says, his fingers curling in a teasing way.

You know there’s no getting around this. “I need to come.”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, like he’s expecting more.

You resist the urge to sigh. “I need your mouth. Please.”

He barely spares a second for a wicked grin and a growl of praise that only elevates your need before he’s lowering his mouth again to your clit.

Your second orgasm is somehow even quicker than the first, only this time, you’re already whimpering for the next one as soon as you catch your breath.

Mercifully, he doesn’t lift his mouth from your cunt this time, though he does give you a wicked look that more or less says the same thing.

His fingers are wonderful, but you know they’re no substitute for his cock. And while he has made you come so many times already, the need to have him inside of you continues to grow, settling into a dull ache in your hips.

“I need you to fuck me,” you finally breathe as the aftershocks of your latest orgasm fade back to that ache.

He lifts his head for a minute. “I intend to, but I don’t think you’re done yet.”

Your eyes widen as he seals his lips back around your clit.

“I mean, I’ve just—fuck—I’ve just had more…c-consecutive orgasms than I’ve ever had before in my life, you’re—oh my god, yes—you’re not exactly leaving me wanting—oh fuck.”

He stays silent, but it’s because his tongue is working over your clit. You, on the other hand, are in the process of undercutting your own point. A few more strokes of his tongue and you are coming again, your hips jerking hard against his mouth.

He doesn’t stop after that, either—he draws more orgasms from you, groaning into your cunt when you pull on his hair.

Your pleas for him to fuck you become increasingly desperate with every orgasm, until he finally lifts his head.

“What was it that you wanted?” he asks with a smirk that tells you he needs absolutely no clarification whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please. I need to be fucked, I need your cock,” you say. You feel restless and desperate, the ache inside you growing with every passing second.

“Oh, darling, all you needed to do was ask,” he says, his tone overly cloying.

You’re not quite so far gone that you can’t manage a scowl. “I have been asking. Repeatedly.”

He laughs and begins to undress. You suspect he’s doing this to torture you—you know he could remove his clothes in one go if he wanted to.

He peels his shirt off first and your lips part involuntarily as you take in the firm expanse of muscle of his chest and abdomen, your fingertips itching with the need to touch him. You grip the sheets instead in the vain hope that it might make a difference (it doesn’t).

But even the enticing expanse of his chest is no match for what’s to come.

He removes his trousers with achingly precise slowness. You expect him to be hard; what you’re not expecting is the primal response that it invokes in you. His cock is long, thick, and hard, the head already slick with pre-come. It’s not just for you—it’s because of you.

You swallow hard as he turns to face you fully. You’re so distracted by his cock that you almost miss the smug smirk, which he makes no attempt to hide. He knows he’s hot, he knows he has a beautiful cock, and he knows that you are absolutely aching for him. It is profoundly irritating.

He wraps his hand around his cock, wetting his lips as he casually strokes himself once. “Do you want me?” he asks with the sort of tone and expression that tells you he absolutely knows the answer.

You could yell at him. The prospect is certainly tempting. But you’re not sure that it’s worth it, not with the way your cunt is throbbing with the need to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock.

“Loki, please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you’d like, but you decide that you can live with it.

You are treated to a particularly wolfish grin before he starts stalking towards you.

There’s a large part of you that expects him to flip you over and take you from behind, rough and fast and impersonal. But instead, he climbs on top of you and draws you into a kiss. It’s deep and slow and heightened by the heavy weight of his bare cock pressing against your belly, drops of pre-come smearing against your skin.

Your back arches and your right leg snakes around his waist, trying to pull him closer, urging him to finally ease the ache inside of you. But he takes his time, kissing you slowly, running his hands over your breasts and hips, rocking his cock against you, but not inside of you.

You don’t like begging—it feels too much like offering up a vulnerability—but it becomes increasingly difficult not to give into the urge the longer he stays on top of you like this.

“Loki,” you finally say when he starts peppering sharp, sucking kisses against your throat.

“What is it, my love?” he asks with a faux confusion that you can see through right away.

“You know what I want,” you say as evenly as you can manage.

“Mmm, let me hear you say it just once more,” he says.

“Please fuck me.”

You’re expecting another negotiation, another battle of wits, but instead, he gives you a rather sharp grin and adjusts his hips so he can rub the tip of his cock up and down the length of your cunt. And then, to your surprise, he lines his cock up at your entrance and slowly begins to ease inside of you.

There’s a part of you—a large part of you—that’s surprised by how careful he is. He’s gentle, slowly pressing into you, giving you time to adjust, his movements careful. He does this all in such a way that you might not notice if you didn’t think to look—he wants you to think that he’s not doing any of what he’s doing. He wants you to think he’s not thinking of you when he is, that the care and precision of his movements are merely a pleasant coincidence. You’re not sure how you know this, but you feel certain.

He waits to kiss you until he’s pressed fully inside you, and you realize this is another illusion, another cover so you don’t realize that he’s giving you another moment to adjust to him.

It’s oddly considerate—irritatingly so. The coals of your anger still burn bright in your heart, but they flicker for just a moment.

But then he begins to move and coherent thoughts flee your mind entirely.

He feels so good. You’re not sure if it’s the soulbond itself, the dopamine and serotonin, or if he just knows the perfect way to move, but the first thrust has your toes curling and that warm heat stirring in your belly. You’ve already come so many times tonight that it feels impossible that your body should be capable of more, but you know immediately that he’s going to bring you right back over the edge if he keeps moving the way he is.

And he’s showing no signs of stopping, either.

“Norns,” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your neck, “you feel perfect. So warm and tight.”

You shiver, your cunt clenching reflexively around his slowly stroking cock. He grins and presses his lips up against your ear.

“Do you like hearing how your snug little cunt fits me like a glove?”

You would prefer to be able to lie in this particular moment—instead, your body immediately betrays you and your legs tighten around his waist as your cunt shudders around him.

You can practically feel his sharp, hungry smile as he nips at your earlobe. “I can feel how much you do,” he murmurs. A devastating swivel of his hips has you uttering a gasping whine that you are not at all proud of.

“That’s it.” He’s swiveling his hips on every other thrust now and you know the moment he switches to that exclusively, it’s all over. “You’re so close,” he purrs with confidence that annoys you just a little, even in your pre-orgasmic stupor.

But then he swivels his hips again and you shudder before you can hide it and he notices…and does it again.

And again.

Fuck.

Your orgasm starts barreling toward you at an impossibly fast pace and his eyes glitter because he knows.

“You’re going to come for me.” It’s not even a command—it’s just a statement as he rolls his hips in those devastating thrusts.

You whimper, your back arching.

“Give into it. Let me feel you.”

One more push of his cock against that sweet spot inside you and you can’t fight it any more. Your muscles tense one last time and you cry out as you come hard on his cock.

“Oh, beautiful,” he groans, his eyes closing as he fucks you through it.

It seems to last a long time, drawn out every time the head of his cock drags against that sensitive spot that sent you over the edge in the first place. He pauses briefly to bring your legs up over his shoulders, which makes his cock hit a spot even deeper inside you that feels so good it pulls a strangled sob from your throat.

Loki groans, his pace increasing, one hand falling between your legs to rub at your clit. It’s so much, but it feels better than anything. You feel another orgasm rising in your hips and you whimper.

“Good girl, fucking take it,” he slurs. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his thrusting is becoming more frantic, how he tips his head back and grips your hips even harder.

“Come for me,” he growls. “I’m going to fill your lovely cunt with my seed. Come for me.”

Your vision whites out and your back arches as you come. If you were capable of rational thought, you would be angry that your body simply obeyed this simple directive; as it is, it’s hard for you to process anything other than how good he feels inside of you.

You can tell he’s approaching his end and he’s utterly captivating to watch. His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed and lips parted as he lets out a low groan that makes your toes curl.

His eyes open in the final throes and he surges forward to kiss you. He moans softly into your mouth as he comes, his whole body shuddering.

You feel dreamy and sated as he slows to a halt, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. The restless ache inside you is finally quiet—at least for now.

You expect him to roll off you and fall asleep—the portrait of a cliche. Instead, he stays with you, the warm heat of his breath ghosting over your shoulder. You can feel his cock still throbbing inside of you.

You should push him away, reclaim the distance between you. You’re angry at him, after all.

But also…it feels nice.

It’s just the endorphins, you tell yourself. It’s hormones. It doesn’t mean anything.

You can feel the lie prickling at the edges of the thought, sharp and needling, like ground glass pressing against bare skin. It means a lot of things; you just wish it didn’t.

Be angry.

His lips brush against your shoulder. More of your muscles relax. It’s nice.

Be angry.

You’re tired though. It’s been a really long day and the bed is soft and the weight of Loki on top of you is oddly reassuring.

Maybe just for tonight. Maybe just this once you’ll allow yourself to fall asleep in his bed.

“I’m still mad at you,” you say. It feels too sharp, too strident. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. He doesn’t know you, though, not really, and so you can only hope that he misses the subtle catch in your voice, that little note of uncertainty.

“I’d expect nothing less.” His voice is slightly muffled against your shoulder.

Goddammit, why does this have to be so comfortable?

He shifts slightly, easing out of you. You feel the resulting mess vanish before it even hits your thigh. At least he’s considerate.

You scowl at the thought.

“Sleep,” he says after a moment. “You’ll need your strength to rage at me in the morning.”

“I can rage at you in my sleep,” you say as your eyes slide shut.

“I’m sure you can,” he says. “Sleep.”

And despite all your complicated feelings—your anger, the inherent feeling of ease you get from his embrace, your unease with your new title, your homesickness—you find that the pull of sleep is too tempting to resist and the world slowly fades away.

Next chapter

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson smut

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purple-plum-petals · 5 months ago

Text

⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail) Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending. Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~2500 words Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

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You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

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