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eff4freddie · 2 days

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Things You Knew

Javi Gutierrez x Reader Rating: M Words: 8k AN: This is my submission for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge and @auteurdelabre trope-off. Apologies for doubling up on challenges but it's been a pretty insane month at work. Anyway. I chose Javi G as I've never written for him before, and my trope was Soulmates. This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Your ankles crinkled in their sockets when you stretched them, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant, so you didn’t. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the way the tendons strained under the weight of keeping your head up. It wasn’t even that working for Javi was that hard – he was a kind boss, generous with his time and respectful of yours – it was just that his relentless quest had started to take its toll on all your other tasks. Tasks that were mounting up without his attention.

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you started, your arms full of binders and your iPad balanced precariously on top, ‘you have a meeting with the executive producers this afternoon…’

‘Cancel it, and it is Javi, please. You know this, Cariño.’

He was good looking enough that you didn’t mind the pet name, or that he’d bestowed it upon you the moment he saw you on your first day in the job, seven and a half months ago. Now, though, it grated on you as he strode past you standing patiently at his office door.

‘They’ve said that if you don’t show up this time the deal is off, Mr Gutierrez,’ you tried again, following behind him as he made his way down the hall to the front door. Your heels clacked on the marble in a way that announced your arrival well before you had any intention of making it, and you hated that you were unable to move silently through his house.

‘They can say whatever they want to. They do not understand I’m on a quest,’ he said, talking to you over his shoulder as his longer legs carried him. You sighed, the sorrowful little sound of it stopping him in his tracks. You took a step back as he rounded on you.

‘Como, Cariño?’ he asked, his brows saddled in concern. ‘Do you work too late? Do you carry too many things? Look at all these…’ he tutted at you as he took the binders from your arms, all labelled neatly in your script; the names of his various projects, ledgers, budgets, a contract he still hadn’t read let alone signed. ‘Who makes you carry these, hmm?’ he said, grinning at you slightly as you secured your face in a disapproving glare.

‘My boss,’ you said, but fighting a grin.

‘What a monster he must be,’ Javi said, winking at you. You felt the heat crawling up your cheeks, and hated yourself for it. You had noticed long ago that his voice, when it was just the two of you, was softer, quieter, that he almost whispered to you such that sometimes you found yourself leaning closer into his orbit just to pick up the words. You felt the fizzle up your spine and ignored it, every time, his cologne and his shampoo and just his skin enough to send a riot of butterflies into your throat and suffocate you.

‘Enough of this, it does not matter to me,’ he said, dismissing your months of work.

‘Mr Gutierrez, when you find her, you’ll need…don’t you think you’ll…’ you tried to think of a reason. He didn’t need the money, you knew that. He didn’t need the social status, he had that in spades thanks to his wealth and his association with Nicholas Cage. He had everything a man could want except for the thing that kept him up at night, and when he found it…

‘Don’t you think Nic will want to know what happened to your next movie?’ you tried your Hail Mary, invoking the name of Jesus himself. Javi paused. Your arms now empty you tugged nervously on your sleeve.

‘I will find her,’ he said, determined, and you nodded at him. ‘But when I do, you are right, I will need to juggle all my other responsibilities…Oh, Cariño will you help me, still? You will not leave me to rot?’

‘You won’t rot,’ you said, rolling your eyes at him. ‘You’ll be too happy with her.’

He grinned, his dimples popping out. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to take them between your teeth, but you resisted, you always resisted.

‘I will be, Cariño, won’t I?’ he said, but he wasn’t asking for an answer, and you could see the way his eyes had drifted away from yours that he was imagining her again, conjuring her in his mind as if he could transport her in front of him just by sheer will.

‘Yes, Prince Charming,’ you said, and he smiled at you, again.

‘If only I had a glass slipper to try on these women,’ he said.

‘You have better,’ you said, nodding to his wrist. Absent minded, he ran his fingers over the mark, the pattern you had seen enough times to know by heart.

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists.

‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

‘You’re not the first I’ve witnessed find their match,’ you said, the words bitter on the back of your throat. ‘I’m happy that you will be happy, Mr Gutierrez. And that you apparently won’t fire me the moment you find her.’

‘I would never,’ he said, jostling the binders in his arms so that he could extend a hand to your shoulder. You felt the warmth seep into your skin through the loose cotton of your shirt. He wore a look of consolation on his face, and somehow that burned more than anything else.

A moment passed between the two of you, Javi’s thumb caressing your skin without his fully realising. You could see again his eyes were unfocussed, could see the spread of goosebumps up his forearm. You pushed him away, taking a step back and out of his grasp.

‘I do hope it’s soon, though,’ you said, plastering a smile on your face. ‘Not sure I can hold off the execs much longer.’

‘Tell them a family emergency came up,’ Javi said, ‘tell them I am sorry, but I must attend to my loved ones.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, we said that last time,’ you reminded him. He dropped your binders, one by one, on the hall table by the door. Through the glass you could see his driver idling his sports car. You held in a sigh. Taking a pen from his front pocket he at least signed the contract, sight unseen.

‘Tell them again…it is not untrue,’ he said. ‘When I find her, she will be family.’

Before you could try and get him to see sense he was gone, the door opened and closed for him as he strode over the threshold. You forced yourself to look away, to turn your shoulder and stare instead at the binders beside you. You could never look when he left you.

You had meant to go home, you really had, but you found yourself unaccountably engrossed in Javi’s bookkeeping and before you knew it the sun was setting over the ocean. Your phone rang, the vibrations jolting you out of your work.

‘-lo?’ you said, without checking, and when you heard a scoff you knew it was your roommate, Karla.

‘Girl, what are you doing?’ she asked, and you sighed.

‘I got…stuck with work.’

‘I’ve been texting. This time you didn’t even leave me on read.’

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb the moment Javi had cleared the driveway. If he found Her, finally, you didn’t want to know about it.

‘Oh, I…needed to concentrate,’ you said. You realised your eyes were stinging and you blinked them a few times. How long had you been bent over your laptop? Too long, judging by the squawk of protest from your shoulders when you moved.

‘You’re breaking your back for this guy again?’ Karla asked. She knew, or at least she suspected with the benefit of very good evidence, that you didn’t work so hard for Javi because you cared about his next big movie production. Balancing the books for a multi-billion-dollar company wasn’t your job, either. But you knew that Javi had been taken advantage of before, by his own family no less, and you just liked to keep an eye on things to make sure he could trust his accountants.

‘I have a business degree, I gotta use it somehow,’ you said, and you heard Karla laugh. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.’

‘Mmm,’ you agreed. You felt your stomach protest, remembering that you had forgotten to eat lunch. Javi had a way of making your tummy flip that made it difficult to want to add food to the equation.

‘He’s out again, on the hunt?’ Karla asked, gently, because she could read your mind even through the phone and that was why you loved her.

‘Mmm,’ you said, again, this time trying to sound blasé.

‘And you’re not waiting around for him to come home to see if he’s hit the jackpot?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you said, shaking your head for the benefit of absolutely no one.

‘Course not,’ Karla replied. ‘Will you at least go eat something?’

‘How did you…’

‘Could hear your stomach grumbling from here,’ she cut you off, and you grinned. You paused, feeling the smile slide off your face.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

‘Honestly?’ Karla said, and you held your breath, waiting for her to answer. ‘No, that man is determined and he gets what he wants.'

‘He put the ad in the paper,’ you said, ‘and he went on Late Night and showed his mark on TV.’

‘And how many fakers did that bring out of the woodwork? The cheap tattoos? That one lady who Sharpied hers on and didn’t think he’d try wiping it?’

You scoffed at that. She had lasted all of three minutes, and it was three minutes too long in your opinion. His security teams had received a talking to after that.

‘I don’t like seeing him… like this,’ you said, and you meant distracted and not able to attend important meetings, making you grovel for reschedules. Of course that’s what you meant. ‘He was so disheartened when all that publicity didn’t work.’

‘Kind of makes me grateful I don’t have one, to be honest,’ Karla said. You made your way to Javi’s kitchen, untouched by anyone except for his chef, and scrounged around for something with which to make yourself a sandwich. ‘I think he’ll do all this dating, and he won’t find Her, but he’ll find a girl nice enough, or gorgeous enough, and he’ll make do.’

‘Some stunning influencer.’

‘6 foot tall, waist tiny enough to wrap one hand around,’ Karla agreed.

‘Rich lady hair. Tits up to her chin,’ you added, after a thought.

‘She’ll have a PhD in neuroscience, and something in Law’ Karla giggled, ‘and she’ll volunteer for the UNHCR.’

‘And she won’t know how beautiful she is, she just will be.’

‘She’ll pop out twins and be…wait are we just describing Amal Clooney?’

‘We…we might be,’ you conceded.

‘I met her once, she was lovely.’

‘Of course she fucking was,’ you said, an ache blooming at your temples you were worried would turn into a full-on migraine. Karla was right. That was absolutely the kind of woman Javi would end up with, should end up with, if there was any justice in the universe. You knew this. Of course you knew this.

‘I’m gonna go meet my Not The One But Good Enough,’ Karla decided.

‘Put the sock on the doorknob,’ you reminded her, and she remained on the line long enough to scoff at you before she was gone. She was your best friend.

You turned back to the cupboards, considering your options. The kitchen was well stocked, but it was an ingredient kitchen. You just wanted a box of mac and cheese, not to have to roll the pasta yourself. You sighed.

‘That was dramatic,’ you heard a voice behind you, and you swivelled fast enough to make yourself dizzy.

‘Mr Gutierrez!’ you said, his voice honeyed but his eyes sad in the light from above the stove. ‘You’re back early.’

You watched as he sighed, plonking himself down at the table. Behind him a storm threatened to blow in over the ocean. You felt your stomach sink for him.

‘She was not the One,’ he said, and you nodded.

‘Not even the Not the One But Good Enough?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

You knew Javi. Despite Karla’s predictions, you knew he was uncompromising in getting what he wanted, that he had enough money in the world to engineer any career, any dream for himself but this one thing, this one missing piece, that was nevertheless evading him. He wasn’t the type to settle, even if it would make him reasonably happy. You knew this, too.

‘I do not know how to describe it, just that I knew she was not Her.’

You stayed by the cupboard, not wanting to interrupt his reverie, not sure if you should intrude. It almost seemed as though he forgot you were there, until he snapped his eyes to you. ‘What are you doing hiding in the kitchen?’

‘I didn’t have dinner…’ you said, and he slapped his forehead.

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed, standing and running out of the room. You followed, because it seemed urgent, and because of course you did. You watched as he ran to the garage, disappearing into the darkness before you heard a car door slam.

‘Sorry, Cariño, I was just so upset about the girl, but it should still be warm. I will heat it for you.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, no, I can…’ you said, not wanting to remind him of the last time he tried to heat up leftovers, including his Great Grandmother’s silver serving spoon.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him.

‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

So caught up in chasing him down, as per usual, you didn’t even look at what was in his hands until he produced a plate and served it. You had been expecting a half-eaten chocolate cake, maybe some bread and an unwanted appetiser, but what greeted you was an intricate dish, seafood and delicate squares of polenta, a garnish of radish and dill. You looked, as subtly as possible, for any bite marks and found none.

‘The chef recommended it as his favourite,’ he explained, his eyebrows saddling as he watched your reaction. ‘You eat fish, yes?’

You nodded, dumbly. ‘How did you know that I would…’

‘You’re always working late, Cariño. You think I do not notice but I do.’

You felt heat in your chest, your belly flipping again. This time, though, the smell of the food wafting gently over your nostrils was enough to overcome it. You were embarrassed to find your mouth watering.

‘Thank you, Mr Gutierrez,’ you said, warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. He smiled, pleased.

‘She did not like the food at all,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he put the plate down in front of you and went to find forks. ‘She did not like to eat.’

‘Well, she’s crazy,’ you said, too impatient to wait for the cutlery and instead diving in with your hands, picking up a polenta square and popping it into your mouth. An explosion of flavour danced across your tongue and you moaned, your eyes closing of their own volition. When you opened them again you saw Javi gazing at you, pink blooming across his cheeks.

‘It is not cold?’ he asked you, his voice oddly strained.

‘No, it’s good, do you want some?’ you asked, reaching down and holding a square out for him. He came forward, tentative, as you placed the food gently on his tongue. You felt an ember of something lighting between your thighs as he savoured it, groaning slightly.

‘Oh, it is heaven,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. You thought for a deranged moment of slipping from your chair and getting down onto your knees for him, wondering if you could make him make him groan like that with his cock in your mouth. You blinked, swallowing harshly. His eyes opened, gently, to gaze down at you.

‘I regret so much about tonight, and now I must also regret that I did not choose this for my own,’ he said, and you smiled at him. He reached for more and you batted his hand away.

‘Mine,’ you growled at him, and he grinned.

‘My hungry little Cariño,’ he said, and the little ember started to catch flame.

He sat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair, as you tucked in. So engrossed in the food you didn’t notice he had lapsed into silence until your plate was almost entirely cleared. When you finally remembered he was in the room you took him in.

He was quiet, his chin resting in his other hand as he considered the darkening sky over the ocean. You could see he was deep in thought, a kind of maudlin contemplativeness he was prone to sink into when things didn’t go his way. You wanted to pull him into your arms and wrap your fingers in his curls, soothe whatever troubled him with your lips on his skin.

‘What else do you regret about tonight?’ you asked, bold for someone who was technically talking to her boss. You pulled him from his reverie, but the room remained heavy with the weight of his sadness.

‘Have I gone about this all wrong?’ he asked. You wanted to reach out and smooth the indent where his brows crashed together, wipe the hopelessness off his face once and for all.

‘I don’t know how else you could have gone about it,’ you said, honestly. ‘You’ve gone about it basically every way there is.’

‘The talk show, that was not such a good idea.’

‘It seemed OK at the time, you just forgot people are generally terrible.’

‘A Sharpie, of all things. And it was black.’

You snorted a little. ‘I mean, no marks for execution but you gotta respect the hustle?’

Javi lapsed back into consternation for a while, and you let him. Being with him set your nerves ablaze but also, paradoxically, calmed you in a way that no-one else did. He was your boss, and he was annoying and this quest of his was ruining your standing with quite a few important contacts, but he was also kind, and he was loving, and you imagined that if you were to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat it would sound like home.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

You wanted to reach out and put your hand on his forearm, rub it with your thumb as you cooed into his ear. You needed to get yourself together. You were tired and he was wearing down your resistance by being so sad and so fucking gorgeous at the same time. You cleared your throat.

‘I should head home, it’s late,’ you said, and he nodded.

‘Cariño…’ he suddenly started, grabbing your arm as you went to move away. You pulled it from him, the heat of his touch even through your sleeves scorching. He sat beneath you as you stood over him at the table, his expression changing from sadness to hope to something else, something not quite settled comfortably on his features. ‘You can come in late, if you like. Since you worked late tonight.’

You couldn’t have said how. Maybe just that the look on his face, his hesitation, just by the way he had paused as he gazed up at you, but you just knew he had been going to say something else, had been thinking something else entirely. You wouldn’t ever be able to articulate it. You just knew this, too.

You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what you wanted, after all. So, you could only smile, a little tightly, when Javi bounded into his office one afternoon, uncharacteristically late, and beamed down at you sitting at your desk.

‘You found her,’ you said, ignoring the stone shifting in your belly.

‘No,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, a look of almost remorse crossing his fucking beautiful features. ‘But she is just as good.’

You nodded at him. Fucking Karla had willed this into existence.

‘So, your quest is over?’ you asked, but he was already bouncing on his heels, looking at you with bright eyes and his dimples so sharp he could poke himself. You recalibrated. ‘Tell me the story,’ you said.

‘Oh, Cariño it was like nothing I had expected but somehow it was better.’ He was looking over your head, as if watching the movie of this perfect moment playing back behind his eyes.

‘We do not have the same marks. Hers is different, it is close but a little off on the left side? Anyway, I was at the bar talking to Marco, you remember Marco he financed my last project? So, I was talking to Marco about locations for filming in the Spring, and suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder and a woman…a vision of a woman…tells me if we need a vineyard she has one on the south coast!’

‘She…has a vineyard,’ you repeated, an image of Amal Clooney in a sundress holding a bottle of wine while giving you the finger appearing in your mind.

‘Well, it is her fathers, but I can not exactly complain about that,’ Javi said.

Ah. There it is.

‘And where did she get her law degree?’ you asked, not able to stamp out all the bitterness in your tone before the words escaped your mouth.

‘Eh?’ he asked, and you waved him away.

‘No, nothing, it’s…that’s great. When do I get to meet her?’

‘Cariño, you want to meet her?’ he asked, and he seemed genuinely surprised this, and because of that it was difficult for you to quantify the hurt it caused.

You’d forgotten, you supposed. All the late-night chats, the bringing you dinner, the times you had stood beside him while he worked his way through half of Europe trying to find his one, then most of Hollywood to boot, you thought that there had been a friendship there, something more than a boss and an overworked, underpaid employee. Of course there wasn’t. He was a billionaire and looked like a model and talked with passion about almost everything he encountered. You were…you. You knew this.

‘Well, I need to vet her, Mr Gutierrez,’ you recovered, quickly. ‘Have you done the necessary background checks?’

‘Oh, I do not need those, this is love,’ he said, and you tasted sour over the back of your throat. Your mouth was turning down all on its own, the muscles of your jaw twanging under the strain. You were horrified to realise you were going to cry in front of him if you didn’t get out of there.

‘Mr Gutierrez, I strongly urge you to do the background checks,’ you said, your voice reedy, but he wasn’t listening. You wondered if he ever would again.

‘We are to holiday in St Tropez,’ he announced. ‘I have just decided. Will you organise the helicopter?’

This time, you didn’t follow him as he strode out the door. You worried, instead, that you had condemned him, and by extension yourself, to a life of disappointment. It had to be this way, you were sure of it, and maybe you were worrying over nothing. Maybe this vineyard-inheriting goddess could make him happy, in the end.

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

‘He’s going to fucking marry her,’ you predicted, genuine misery in your chest nearly as heavy as the four pints of ice-cream you’d put in your belly. The Ben and Jerry’s had been Karla’s idea, and only now were you slightly regretting it.

‘Oh, fuck her, and fuck him too,’ Karla said, waving melting Triple Caramel Chunk in the air. ‘She’s probably got a stick so far up her arse she can’t bend over without getting a splinter.’

You snickered at this, the cruelty of it appealing to your whispering dark corners.

‘Daddy’s got a vineyarrrrrd,’ you intoned, affecting a truly awful sort-of-British accent.

‘DADDY! GET ME MORE VIIIIIIINES!’ Karla yelled, and now you were laughing so hard you were in real danger of asphyxiation.

‘DADDY! I’M TIRED OF THIS MANSION BUY ME ANOTHER ONE!’ you joined in, through hiccups of laughter and an errant burp.

You both paused for a moment, catching your breath. In the quiet the sadness seeped back in.

‘I still don’t understand why you don’t show him,’ Karla said, after a while. You sighed.

‘It’s not meant to be,’ you repeated for the hundredth time.

‘How can it not meant to be? You’re marked.’

‘Because he’s just…his life is completely different. I don’t fit into it, in any capacity.’

‘You do in one capacity,’ Karla said, nodding her head to your wrist.

‘He would be disappointed,’ you said, eventually, and Karla sighed.

‘You said when you saw him it was like lightning bolts?’ she asked, and you nodded. ‘You don’t think he felt that, too?’

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’

‘Karla, I love you, but you need to listen to me on this one. There were no turtle doves, no petals falling from the sky. He saw me and he shook my hand, and he said, “welcome to my staff, it is lovely to have you” and then he was gone. The whole soulmates thing, they don’t mention that crushing, ridiculous privilege will override it. He didn’t feel anything for me because there was too much money and status in the way.’

You were dangerously close to tears again, the helplessness and the grief washing back over your bones. To your relief Karla just nodded at you, extending a cold hand to rest on your knee. You immediately shucked her off. ‘Ice-cream hands,’ you muttered, and she smiled.

‘I just…I just feel like, shouldn’t he have the choice? To decide for himself?’ she asked, and you shrugged.

‘It’s better this way. He’s found Little Miss Vineyard. He says it’s…he thinks it’s good enough, clearly. That’s good for him.’

‘What about you, bub?’ Karla asked, and you were going to protest, going to tell her that it didn’t matter, that you were happy he was happy, that maybe the one act of love you could do for your soulmate was to just stay out of his way, but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

‘I’ll be OK,’ you said, and you knew the more times you said it, the more likely you would, one day, believe.

Javi and Vineyard were gone for the next ten days, which was enough time for you to harden your heart again and get back down to business. You decided, in the spirit of change and new beginnings, to finally bust out the black Amex card Javi insisted you keep in your drawer ‘for emergencies’ and renovated his office, deciding the mid-century brothel vibe didn’t suit a seaside setting. You were going to do modern coastal, you decided, using company time to browse furniture websites and considering the merit of rattan in a professional setting. You were going to do coastal, and you were going to do a fresh start and you were going to do healing. One decorative seashell at a time.

What you didn’t anticipate, though, so insistent on a new office kit out and by extension a new personality, was that everything would arrive flat-packed. The groundsmen faked bad backs, and the security team were pretty adamant their jobs didn’t extend to Allen keys, and so you found yourself down on your knees, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead, trying to beg the lug nut to sit flush on the dowel, whatever the fuck that was. It was this moment, of course, because the Universe was clearly punishing you for an egregious wrong doing in a past life that Javi, of fucking course, wafted back in.

‘Cariño?’ he said, uncertainly, to the lower half of your body.

‘Mmph,’ you responded, a screw held tight between your lips. ‘-ust a sc-nd Mr Git-er-ez,’ you muttered.

‘What are you doing? Where are my things?’ he asked, and you felt your shoulders drop. You took the screw from your mouth, deciding that four equal table legs that all touched the ground was so last year, and got up on your knees.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ you said, and you looked around at the detritus of your efforts; the bubble wrap, the ripped-open boxes, the two successfully constructed armchairs that took you the better part of the morning to assemble. ‘I thought, a fresh new look for your new love,’ you lied, and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

‘This was all my father’s,’ he said, gesturing to where the old furniture was stacked up against the back wall. You swallowed. You probably should have known that.

‘I…’ you started to apologise, but he cut you off.

‘It was never my style. But I never knew what my style was until…this…’ he said. ‘This is perfect, Cariño. How did you know?’

Your mark tingled and you pulled your sleeve down tight over your wrist.

‘I thought about what I would like and did the opposite,’ you lied again, and he laughed, clapping his hands in delight.

‘My brilliant Cariño,’ he said, and it would have been kinder if he’d just shot you on the spot. You felt the burn and ache in your chest. You wondered what cute little pet names he called Vineyard. But he was coming towards you, getting down on his knees in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

‘I will assist,’ he announced, in that way he had where there was just no arguing with him.

‘Why do I feel like you have never, in your life, put together flat-pack furniture?’ you asked, and he grinned at you.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, and you really fucking did.

It took an hour and a half, but by the end of your toiling you and Javi had the legs on the desk, all four and all the same length. It turned out if the dowel didn’t sit properly you could just whack it really hard with a paperweight. The things you learned working for Javi.

You stood together, appraising the upturned desk.

‘So, I guess we just each get on the other end and…flip it?’ you suggested.

‘It looks heavy,’ he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

‘It is, I got the really expensive one,’ you said, and smiled at him when he looked at you, questioningly.

‘You spoiled me?’ he said, and you scoffed.

‘One way to think of it,’ you said, not wanting to tell him you’d paid with glee thinking somehow this might put a little dent in his amour somewhere, knowing that of course it wouldn’t, but feeling the vindication anyway.

‘Ok, Cariño, you get on that end and then I think we…put it on its side?’ he asked, and you nodded at him.

‘Yeah, roll it that way,’ you said, gesturing to your left as you leant down.

‘That way?’ Javi asked, gesturing with his head to his left, not yours, but you weren’t watching him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you hummed, bracing yourself to lift. Was it lift with your knees to protect your back? Squat? That seemed like it would strain more…

‘1…2…3…’ you counted, hefting the desk to the left while Javi hoisted to the right. It immediately corkscrewed, rolling out of your hand and twisting your wrist as it thudded to the ground. You screamed in surprise and then blooming pain, holding your wrist in your hand as if you could repair it with just your grip.

‘Cariño!’ Javi called, vaulting over the desk and at your side in an instant, reaching out to grasp your wrist. He moved so quickly, so agile over to you that you didn’t have time to react. He pulled up your sleeve to get a better look, turning your wrist towards him to inspect it.

‘Wait, wait…’ you said, as your mark gently rotated into his view.

He froze. You closed your eyes for a moment, terrified to look at him, before you heard his sharp intake of breath. You opened your eyes again to see him examining it, lifting your wrist closer to him to properly inspect it.

‘Cariño…’ he whispered, and you swallowed acid over your raw throat.

‘I can explain,’ you said, but you couldn’t really. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, as if remembering for the first time the mark was attached to a person, and you watched as the confusion on his face crumbled away to a sorrow deep enough you thought he might stop your heart.

‘You knew,’ he said, his voice soft and dripping in betrayal. ‘All this time, you stood and watched…and you never said a thing.’

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you whispered, not knowing where to even start. He was right, of course he was right, but you had never intended to tell him, had never allowed yourself to imagine the conversation unfolding around you in this moment. The hurt bloomed on his face, and you felt tears start to well at your waterline. You blinked them back.

‘The whole time. You knew,’ he said.

You did, you had known. So many things you had known.

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

This was beyond even Ben and Jerry’s. Karla mostly left you to it, the unique weight of the pain at having hurt your soulmate indescribable. You had read that it was possible, when you finally made the connection, that you could feel their feelings as richly and as closely as your own. The combined weight of your sadness crushed you, pulverised you, such that you could barely think straight. Karla brought you easy food; toast and bananas and chicken soup, and you ate it all without tasting, only feeding your meat suit purely for maintenance, and didn’t allow yourself to remember the taste of the fish Javi brought back to you; his soulmate and his traitor.

You resigned, immediately. In writing, in an email that was never replied to. Each day you scrolled Instagram for news of the inevitable engagement to Vineyard. You held your phone in one hand while you rubbed at your aching mark with the other.

You knew, there were stories, of divorcing soulmates. It was rare but sometimes circumstances overcame even destiny, even biology. Sometimes people died, leaving their soulmates behind. You spent time on message boards reading the stories of people who had lost their connections, of people who had woken up one day and felt the mark cold to the touch, had known in their hearts then and there that their mate was gone. Some had felt it before they had found their matches. They struggled the most; the what ifs, the could-have-beens.

You considered that maybe it was a blessing that you at least knew it was Javi. It would stop you looking for the rest of your life, stop you having to check the wrist of every man you met, second guess any minimal attraction you might have felt to another.

Karla sat on the end of the couch as you stared out the window, the TV on but unwatched in front of you.

‘You love him,’ she said, simply, and you nodded. Heartsick, you didn’t have the words.

‘From the first moment,’ you agreed.

‘No, but it’s deepened, the more time you’ve spent with him,’ she observed. You nodded again before lifting your knees to your chest and resting your cheek there. If you closed your eyes and really tried you could conjure the memory of his cologne, could imagine you rested your head on his chest.

A couple of weeks passed. You couldn’t be sure how many. You got off the couch, the thrumming hurt of your heart and your mark lessening somewhat as the days went on. You checked it every morning for its warmth, relieved not to find it cold, and you wondered if your lessening sadness was really just that Javi was moving on with Vineyard. That now you were starting to lose his connection you could be left to your own miserable devices. You considered that this was inevitable, that the ending you had been expecting probably ran pretty close to this. You hated that you had hurt him, though. You had only ever intended to fade into the background before he noticed you were gone.

You applied for another job, this one far less glamorous but less likely to utterly gut you. On the mainland, doing some general bookkeeping and executive assistance for a CEO of a small manufacturing firm. It would be simple work, and you were a shoo-in, subject to a satisfactory referee check. You hovered over the form naming Javi as your previous employer. In the end you named his business manager, leaving the details for him to fill in.

Your reference check came back within the hour. Glowing. You were offered the job.

Your first week was good, then your first fortnight. You received your first pay-check with gratitude, even though it was almost half what Javi had been paying you. You felt good to be productive again, to be able to put some of your skills to good use. You didn’t have to trail behind your boss as he blew off any and all obligations for some flight of fancy. You spent considerably less time discussing Face/Off.

It was fine, you were fine. It was going to be fine. You were aware, distantly, that you were probably heaving in denial and numbness, and it suited you, so you let it.

Except when you woke on what you thought would be a normal Thursday, your mark burning so hot you gasped awake, reaching for it to check it hadn’t been seared into your skin. Holding it up to the light it looked the same. Karla checked it and confirmed it seemed to the same temperature as the rest of you. Just your nerves were screaming, perceiving a flame not visible to the eye.

You googled, checking message boards, searched ‘burning marks’. There was nothing, which you weren’t sure was a good or a bad thing, worried for a moment you would pull up results from those who had lost their spouses, the burning mark serving as a premonition of the horrors to come. You slathered burn cream on it, which did nothing, took an anti-inflammatory or two and considered calling in sick. In the end you decided against it, because you weren’t sick sick, you were heartsick, and somehow that just didn’t feel anywhere near as real.

On the ferry over to the mainland you considered lowering your arm into the ocean water, the cool of the water maybe able to provide some relief. You would have to get down on your knees in your work skirt, on the wet and not particularly clean ferry floor. You considered it longer than you cared to admit.

In your office the heat from your mark started travelling up your arm and you started googling ‘infections of the blood and skin’ and ‘septicaemia’. You wondered if it was an allergic reaction, if perhaps you had run your arm through some kind of heinous plant, and you wondered if the office had an epi-pen in the first aid kit. You googled if it was bad to use one if you weren’t actually in anaphylactic shock. The internet was pretty damning of the idea.

You wondered if you needed to go the local emergency care clinic, was just debating asking your boss for the afternoon off, when a shadow darkened the door.

‘Cariño?’ it said, a perfect Javi-shaped silhouette as the sun streamed in from behind.

‘Mr Gutierrez?’ you asked, gasping immediately as your mark pulsed, the heat shooting down your arm and into your chest. Was it a stroke? How were you supposed to know if it was a stroke?

‘My Cariño,’ he said, stepping forward into your little office and somehow crowding all the space. His cologne wafted over to you, and you felt the warmth of it spread over your nostrils and down into your blood. You wavered a little on your feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you said, stepping back from him as he advanced, feeling the sudden urge to keep space between you, not to let him to get too close, knowing that if got within arms reach you would pull him into you, wrap his arms around your back and your legs over his hips, never detach yourself from him, sink your lips over his neck and taste his pulse through his skin.

‘Cariño…’ he said, but you interrupted him, the searing heat of your mark now making its way to your racing heart.

‘I thought you would be happier with someone more like you… I thought it was a kindness, that you would feel something for someone that would be enough to make you happy. And I only ever wanted you to be happy, you have to understand that I did it so that you could be happy…’ you trailed off, the words spilling out of you now, distracted by the flames in your chest. ‘Karla said I should tell you, let you choose, and I know now that she was right, I think I always knew she was right, but the idea that you wouldn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure I could survive it, so I didn’t let you. It was selfish and it wasn’t very brave and I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to…’ you felt tears on your cheeks, marvelled at them, at how they could appear unbidden. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t fully convinced you were alive.

‘Cariño…’ he tried again, taking another step towards you but you held your hand up, your aching mark now uncovered.

‘Please, please…I don’t think I can…’ you started, but you didn’t know how to finish. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d come here to just finally end things. To tell you he was going to marry Vineyard but wanted a clear conscience first. Wanted to let you down easy, in person. Was your mark burning because he was furious with you? He mostly just seemed nervous.

‘Let me speak, Cariño, oh my god,’ he muttered, his patience rapidly running out. You stopped short. ‘I know. I mean, not at first. At first, I did not understand, but I thought about what you must have been feeling, how you must have thought of me.’

‘No, I…’

‘The silly man who runs around causing you problems.’

‘No…’ you started, but he kept talking, despite you.

‘But then I thought harder, and I felt more.’ He gestured to his mark, the perfect match for yours. ‘I was not angry, Cariño, I could never be angry at you. I was sad, I think, that I had failed you.’

You shook your head, the words failing you.

‘I felt more into the mark…I do not think I am making any sense. But I thought of you, my Cariño, I think I heard you in my head a little bit, and I thought of your beautiful heart, and I knew why you did it.’

‘You did?’

At this he shrugged, honest and raw. ‘Of course I did, you are my One.’

‘Why did I do it?’ you asked him, genuinely still trying to settle it for yourself.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’

You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

‘Usually?’ he asked. You noticed for the first time that, since he had started talking, he had also been moving towards you. That if you reached out to him, and he reached out to you, skin would meet skin.

‘Always,’ you said, grinning.

He nodded. ‘It is true, I will not lie,’ he said. ‘I get what I want.’

He took another step, and this time you stayed put.

‘You don’t hate me? You’re not mad? All those dates…’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘I knew,’ he said, devastating you in two words.

‘You did?’ you asked, with the little breath you still had.

‘Some part of me knew, yes,’ he nodded. His brows were crashing together now, his face so earnest, so open, as he inched towards you like he was trying not to spook a bear. Later you would realise the closer he was to you the less your mark burned. You could smell him this close, more than his cologne but the clean, crisp scent that was just his skin, just Javi.

‘All of those women, Cariño. In all of those women I looked for you.’

You didn’t think. Nothing about it was conscious. You just felt the firework explode in your chest and moved to him, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you, his lips searching and little muffled whimpers matching your own. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a melding, a coming together. It was something right and essential slotting into place, a line item checked off on the Universe’s ledger. You gasped into his mouth, your knees weak, your pulse heavy at your throat. His skin on yours. He reached up a hand to cup your jaw, pulling you closer into him.

‘Javi…’ you whispered, and he groaned a little.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and you did.

#rollatropechallenge #pedro pascal fanfiction #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tuwomt #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #tropeoff2024

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 3 days

Note

Hiya! It's me! I've been sending you so many asks that I wouldn't be surprised if you gave me a restraining order!

I made an account so I can actually participate in some of your rp things- if that's okay with you of course.

I sent you the ideas for the succubus, deadpool x wolverine and bimbo!au's, I sent others but I'd need to go through my memory, which would take all night.

Anyway- I have a new au idea for you! I think you'll like this. It's basically a gothic vampire!au.

I'm going to attach screen shots because I've already written it out and for some reason Tumblr doesn't let you copy and paste (it's already 1am where I am and I don't want to have to write this out all again, so I'm really sorry if this'll be annoying for you 😭).

Continuation--

Adam: it's rude to stare, you know. How did a kid get in here?

Lucifer jumped at his voice: I-I'm not a kid!- I'm 30 years old!

Adam: really dude? What are you? 5"3?... you didn't get the long straw when it came to genes, huh? See what I did there?

Lucifer sighs as the man chuckles to himself.

Lucifer: uh... that's... not important- a-are you the owner?

Adam stares at Lucifer for a few seconds before taking a sip from his glass. Lucifer watches his every move, he feels like prey- are those fangs??

Adam: I guess you can say that.. my names Adam. Even though I think the asshole who broke into my house should introduce themselves first- but I'm in a good mood today!

Adam stands and pulls a chair infront of him.

Adam: Here man, have a seat, might as well make yourself comfortable.

The way Adam smiled and watched his every move made Luicfer shiver. He walked as calmy as he could to the chair infront of Adam. He sits, eyes never leaving Adams deep red ones.

Lucifer: I'm Lucifer- and I apologize for the breaking and entering. It's uh, not the best first impression.

Adam: wait- Lucifer? Like the Devil? That's sick. And I'm not one for first impressions, but you've certainly made an entrance, buddy.

Lucifer: Yeah, like the Devil, blame my father for that one-

Adam: I ain't judging man! I think it's cool, everyone has such boring names these days, it's nice to be surprised, nothing surprises me much anymore.

Adam runs his clawed hand through his hair, eyes never leaving Lucifers face. He notices as his eyes travel down to his chest, where his shirt has opened a bit more. Adam smirks, leaning forward, giving Lucifer a better view.

Adam: I would offer you a drink, but I think you want something else~

----

That's all I have! I hope this seems interesting to you 😭

Feel free to continue it, I'll try and participate to! It would be my first time doing these rp type things, so I'm sorry if I'm a bit all over the place lol

Okay- bye!

Ahhh!! Thank you for all your amazing ideas friendo! This too is amazing 🤩

And yes of course you can participate in the rp blogs! What account is it?

Lucifer felt a little called out, this man was so good looking he felt like he was trapped in a trance.

Lucifer: I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-

Adam: Pfft it's fine, I get it. I know I'm hot shit and I don't mind you looking. In fact.

Adam leaned in closer until his hot breath ghosted over Lucifer's face.

Adam: I wouldn't mind you doing more than just looking.

He grinned at the way the blonde man's face turned bright red at the implication. Humans were always so easy to work up. And man this one was easy on the eyes as well.

It's been a while since Adam had a visitor. Even longer since he had a rendezvous.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

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victimeyez · 2 days

Note

For the drabbles thing, has there ever been a moment when Caius has worried that Tommy is dead, either because he or one of their clients took things too far? Im curious to know what his reaction would be, and if he would care at all about losing him.

AHHH thank you so much for the ask! This was fun to write. Nearly losing Tommy made Caius realize for the first time just how much he cared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay

Part of Professional//Victim

See tags for content warnings

____________________________________________________________

Things had been going good.Over a year in, and Tommy was a hit. They had enough requests for him to book out the next year, at least.

So Caius did what he promised himself he would never do: he got sloppy.

He managed to get Tommy in the car, sprawling him across the back.

“Give me your arm, come on.”

Tommy was breathing shallowly, and his face was ghostly pale in the dim light of the streetlamp nearby.

Caius frantically checked his pockets for his phone, finding it tucked in the last one he checked. He unlocked it with shaking hands and got into his speed dial with a few quick presses, sandwiching it between his ear and shoulder as he fumbled with his first aid kit. The one time he leaves it in the car, goddamnit.

Sam answered just before it went to voicemail, his voice drowsy.

“Caius? What time is it?”

“Two AM, rise and shine.” He tried to keep the panic from his voice. He found Tommy’s wrist and turned out his arm. His blood looked black in the light, spewing shockingly fast from the gash parting his ivory skin.

“Sam, Tommy’s hurt bad, they definitely got an artery. I’m working on a tourniquet – what do I do?”

“Fuck,” Sam responded, his voice slightly clearer.

“-Where is the bleed? How big? How deep?”

“Arm, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Caius rushed, pulling the roll of gauze out and struggling to find where it started for a second before he started to wrap it around Tommy’s arm.

“Give me something to work with here, what’s going on?”

Tommy moaned in pain when Caius bound it tightly, startling slightly out of his stupor.

“Tommy? Stay with me buddy, stay with me. Sam, you’re going to have to meet me.”

“Jeez, okay, where are you right now?”

The bandage was darkening fast while he prepared the tourniquet. Which step was first again? He couldn’t remember anything, his head was reeling in a blind panic.

He paused long enough to send his location to Sam before pinching the phone back against his shoulder.

“I’m here, pick the best halfway point and send it back to me right now, go NOW.”

He could hear rustling on the phone, hopefully the sound of Sam heading his way.

“Give me thirty seconds and I’ll send it and head out. But hey, if you lose this one, don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens. I knew a guy who-”

“NO,” Caius snarled, and he realized he was scared. There were a few beats of silence, and his phone pinged. He tied off the tourniquet and dropped his phone into his hand, rounding the car to rip the driver’s door open and jump inside.

ASSHOLE DOCTOR (SAM) HAS PINGED YOU A LOCATION.

It couldn’t load fast enough. He was pulling out of the driveway before he knew where he was heading.

“It’s forty minutes out,” Sam told him gently, his voice distant as the call transferred to his own car’s system. At least he was on the way.

“Be there in twenty.”

Caius hung up the phone, his wheels skidding in the street as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Tommy, baby, talk to me, you’ve gotta stay awake.”

From the back seat, Tommy groaned weakly.

Caius flipped the heaters on, only slowing briefly at a red light before peeling out. He was already sweating, but Tommy had felt so cold.

“Keep talking, I gotta know you’re okay. What’s your favorite movie?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath.

“I don’t feel so good…”

His voice was so small, Caiuscould barely hear him over the blast of the heaters.

“What uh, what do you want for dinner? Once I get you fixed up. Anything you want.”

Tommy coughed raspily, dry heaving before he fell still again.

“TOMMY.”

“Coney. From home.”

“Home?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath.

“Motor city, baby,” Tommy mumbled sleepily. Caius laughed, too loud, too jarring.

“Tell me, tell me about Detroit.”

There was no response. Caius turned music on, whatever was playing, and turned it up loud.

“YOU GOTTA STAY AWAKE,” he shouted over the music, and saw Tommy stir uncomfortably.

His phone told him they’d be going straight down the highway for the next 24 miles. He worked the gas pedal slowly to the ground, grateful for the clear roads.

He skidded to a halt in the empty parking lot of Wheeler’s Dealers Emporium. His heart was beating out of his chest like he had run the whole way. He threw open Tommy’s door and pulled his legs, drawing him closer to get a look at him.

“Stay with me. Tommy? Come on, little longer.”

Tommy made no response.

He could hear a car pulling into the lot behind him, fast.

He held his face, shining his cell phone light at his eyes. Tugging one lid open, his eyes were rolled back. In the light, his lips were so blue.

Caius kissed him.

He didn’t know why, he hadn’t kissed him before. CPR didn’t work for blood loss, did it? He looked down and saw where that inky blackness had seeped into the jacket he’d wrapped around him.

He grabbed his arm right over the cut and squeezed.

The pain brought Tommy back to life, gasping for breath. Caius kissed him like warming his lips would save him, but honestly, he was just so relieved he wasn’t gone.

Tommy went limp in his arms.

Then Sam was there too, putting a hand on his shoulder. Caius moved out of the way, and Sam snagged the scissors from the first aid, cutting away the clothing obscuring the wound.

“Tommy buddy, talk to me, you hanging in there?”

Caius sat in the back seat, holding Tommy up in his lap. “Please, Tommy. Stay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slighlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

Thank you all so much for reading, I cannot tell you what it means to me.

#captive whump #blood loss #cutting #intimate whumper but more just affectionate?#tourniquets #unsafe....driving...#first aid medical whump

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vickyvicarious · 2 days

Text

Today's entry is full of Lucy/Jonathan parallels. It's so many throughout... I can't possibly quote every single one, but here are a few big things.

I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. (5 May)

These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready. (30 July)

Lucy is writing with the specific intent of keeping anyone else from getting into trouble through her - in other words, so none of the maids or her doctors or whoever will be blamed for her murder if she dies before the night is through. The first quote from Jonathan is not really a direct match to this sentiment, of course. But while I couldn't remember a perfect quote to compare, we see hints throughout his journal that Jonathan is writing in the hopes that someone else might someday see it. Perhaps Mina, perhaps some other guest to the castle... he hopes that the explanation of what happened to him, and detailing of what Dracula is, will prove useful. Perhaps it will help someone else protect themself - just like Lucy hopes here. (This is of course not his only reason for writing. Another major reason why is how it helps to keep him sane and helps him plan escapes. Still, it is one of his reasons.) And certainly, the sentiment that the record is important to keep even at risk to oneself, is a shared link between them. Both of them also show a determination to face their death directly.

This line is also an echo of the various times Jonathan (and, more recently, Jack) experienced something seemingly impossibly horrific, and made a big point that they were writing things down exactly as they happened.

The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling; the dogs all round the neighbourhood were howling; and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing.

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! (24 June)

Lucy awakens after the first attack of the night to the sound of dogs howling (amongst other things). Jonathan too has been saved from a trance by this noise, though in his case it was a close call. Dracula certainly seems to have successfully hypnotized her and most likely did drink from her between his arrival in the room (the dust swirling in) and the maids'.

What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.

I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. (8 May)

What shall I do? what can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful thing of night and gloom and fear? (24 June)

Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:— "Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. (29 June)

These are only a few of the lines that Lucy's quote reminds me of. This is the big one, there's so much to connect in it.

Like Jonathan, Lucy is alone with the dead. Dracula has sabotaged her only chance of reaching out to other people for aid (drugged maids = workers in the yard, people who saw Dracula dressed as Jonathan). She also feels duty-bound to stay by her mother's side, in a way which reminds me of Jonathan's feeling of obligation towards Mr. Hawkins (all the more as Mina's letter today emphasizes how familial their relationship has become). Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot see any options to escape from the living nightmare she is experiencing.

Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot leave because if she does, she fears a wolf will get her. (Much like Jonathan, she is earlier in her memorandum able to distinguish a wolf howl from a dog's, despite never hearing one before.) Even though she does not really expect to live through the night, she cannot make the choice to go out and face almost certain death. She's even recently seen the wolf kill a mother, to really drive the comparison with Jonathan's experiences home. (A contrast between the two is, of course, the mother he saw die was trying to rescue/avenge her dead child, but was too late. Mrs. Westenra seeks comfort from her daughter tonight, and as she dies unwittingly steals away Lucy's protection (garlic), thus holding true to her role of accidentally endangering her further.)

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

Then I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. (24 June)

God help me in my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend and second father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina! (25 June)

(I've run out of new colors and am recycling. These aren't meant to match to the above instances of these colors.)

Like Jonathan described his experience being hypnotized by the vampire ladies, Lucy too sees Dracula's form as circling specks (twice, in fact, the other quote being above). The lights going blue and dim are also reminiscent of the various times Jonathan describes moonlight at the Castle. I especially think of just before he meets the vampire women, when he muses about the powers that modernity cannot defeat, and his modern lighting is contrasted to the moonlit room. Here, Lucy's modern lighting is going out as the supernatural invades her bedroom.

Lucy bids her final farewells to her mother and her fiance. In the quote I gave, Jonathan does the same for his father figure and his fiancee. Both of them invoke God for help. Both of them end their entries with this thinking of the one they love most. Jonathan of course does this multiple times, but I'm only quoting this one instance as it feels like the closest match overall.

And once again, we also see multiple comparisons beyond what I directly quoted. Lucy reiterates her expectation of death as in the quote at the top, and even chooses to hide her memorandum in her clothes, much as Jonathan hid his diary on his person at all times. (The difference being, he wanted to hide it from Dracula; she wants to ensure hers is seen by someone.)

#dracula daily #lucy westenra #jonathan harker #lucy/jonathan parallels #dracula parallels #dracula meta #i feel like i may have talked about some of these before but i'm not sure #so here have it again

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cheeeeseburger · 2 days

Text

Dream girl Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Sidney Crosby x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Oh wow! I had absolutely no plans to write multiple parts, let alone turn it into a serie but here we are, thanks to the lovely comments i have received! Your kindness is very much appreciated. Anyway, English isn't my first language, enjoy!

In the past, Sidney Crosby always felt like there were too many team events, to the point where he was getting annoyed by them. Now, he wished there was one every week, every day even.

There weren’t enough opportunities for him to see you. Scrolling through your social media was fun for the first few hundred times, but it wasn’t enough.

He needed to see you in person to smell your perfume, to admire the way your hair frames your face, to soak up the smiles that you were slowly starting to get every time his eyes met yours. He wished there was a baby shower every weekend so he would get to see you all dolled up in baby blue or pale pink. He wished it was the team’s charity event every night so he would get to see you all dolled up again. He wished he had the privilege to see you everyday.

You were the Daisy to Sidney’s Gatsby. The next team party was a few weeks away, but Sid couldn’t wait that long. Just like in the classic American novel, Sidney decided to throw a party. He decided to lure you in with the snacks he remembered you mentioning to him instead of a green light. He just hoped his love story would turn out better than Gatsby's.

There was an important football game coming up and Sid decided that it was the perfect excuse for him to throw a party. Everyone was pretty surprised because he had never hosted before. However, the players and their families soon learned that when Sidney Crosby hosts, he goes all out.

Honestly, he didn’t give a damn about the game. It hurt a bit to see all these people entering his house, since he liked privacy so much, but when he opened the door and got blinded by your smile, it was all worth it. He didn’t even give a look to your boyfriend, his teammate, standing behind you.

“Here, for our generous host,” you said, gifting him a beautiful bouquet of flowers. It was so thoughtful; his heart melted a little. Sidney had never received flowers before. He wished he was the one greeting you with a bouquet of flowers on your porch on your way to date night but for now, it would have to do.

“I also made Nanaimo bars, because you mentioned you liked them, right?” you added, eyes full of hope.

His heart ran a marathon in his body. Was it fair to ask you to marry him in front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, you’re right. I love them. Thank you so much. Come on in!” Love them was an understatement. He would now crave them every time he thought of you, so at all time, basically.

It was surreal to see you in this environment, so intimate. In his mind, he was picturing everywhere he would have you, how far away from the bedroom it was, how much your moans would echo throughout the house. That little table in his entrance would be perfect for when you two wouldn’t be able to wait, after he had his hand on your thighs all night long at dinner and you made a show of licking your spoon at dessert. He just knew you would look good bent over his kitchen counter or with your hands tied to his bedframe.

Anyway. This entire evening felt like his own personal heaven or hell, he couldn’t decide. It was heaven to see you all cozied up in HIS couch, but it was hell to see you in your boyfriend’s lap on HIS couch. It was getting too much, so he hid in the kitchen.

God, he wanted you. You were his dream girl, the one made for him. He just knew your bodies would fit just right. Your bed chem would be insane. He would talk you through it and when it would get too much for you, he would tuck you in his arms and whisper how much he adores you until you fell asleep. When you would wake up, he would make you sit on the counter wearing nothing but his dress shirt and he would get on his knees for you while the pancakes turned golden brown.

And then, someday, preferably very soon, he would marry you and then he would put a baby in you.

“Need some help cleaning up?” Oh God. His Angel was talking to him. You walked in the kitchen with a glowing halo around your silhouette and suddenly, all the commotion from the other guests in the living room disappeared.

“That’s okay, I’ll do it in the morning. I was just getting another beer.” For good measure, he finished the rest of his beer, which definitely wasn’t nearly empty.

What a sight to see. For once, Sid wasn’t the one who couldn’t help but stare in awe. He felt your eyes on him as he tilted his head back and brought the bottles to his lips, condensation dripping on his neck. He wanted you to lick it off him. With your slightly parted lips and the sudden flush on your face, he gathered you wanted to do the same.

Your eyes widened but you managed to hide your desire quite well. Or at least you thought so. It was the cutest thing Sid had ever seen.

“Here, let me help you. I’ll do the dishes, then you can dry them and store them away.” You threw him a drying towel, looking away to hide your cheeks turning bright red.

“Thanks a lot, but you really don’t need to help me, although that’s very kind.” His love was beautiful, sweet, and also generous. You really were his dream girl.

“I want to, Sidney. I want to be a good guest, so you invite me again.” Once again, your eyes widened. “I mean, invite us! Us being me and my boyfriend, my boyfriend and I, you know?” Here you again with the rambling. Adorable, but frustrating since it seemed like you couldn’t get past the guilt. Still, that was a pretty flirty comment, and Sid felt like he just scored a hat trick.

Sidney threw the dish towel on his shoulder. “Alright then, if you insist, beautiful. But you should know that you’re always welcome here, even if you don't do the dishes. I mean it.” You blushed because his gaze was so intense. He was so serious about this. He needed you to know that it was the truth.

“Thank you. If I ever need you, I’ll reach out to you. Same goes for you, though. If you ever want the recipe for my Nanaimo bars, just ask.” Oh, your train of thoughts was so innocent. His was not.

“Oh, I think I’ll reach out to you for more than that, beautiful. In fact, why don’t you give me your cellphone number?” Was this high school all over again? Asking for a cute girl’s phone number?

Honestly, he thought he had gone too far. You were so loyal to the rookie; he never thought you actually give it to him.

But you reached out for your phone in your back pocket and gave it to him. “Here. Give me yours, and I’ll give you mine.”

When he got it back, you had put your name alongside a red heart. His phone was burning in his pocket.

He shouldn’t have found it so endearing, but he did. Sidney was feeling butterflies in his tummy, actual butterflies, just like in the movies and books. He had never felt that way before.

It was comparable to being on the top of a rollercoaster, knowing that the drop was coming. Sidney knew you two would have a love story for the ages, he just needed yo to get you on the same rollercoaster.

After that, you two did the dishes, chatting casually, sharing shy smiles into the reflection of the window behind the sink, the background noise of the guests cheering keeping you company. Sidney loved the domesticity of it all, he thrived on it even. His dream future looked exactly like that.

Soon, the last glass was dried, the cutlery all stored away. You faced each other and no one spoke. This wasn’t an awkward silence, it was the kind you share with someone you can understand without pronouncing a single word.

Right now, his mind was screaming “I want to kiss you and never let you go. I want you to redo the house and move in with me. I want to marry you and love you forever. I’ll give you anything you want, but I just want you to realize I’m your dream man, just like I know you’re my dream girl”, but yours only said “I want to kiss you”. So he did just that.

You both leaned forward oh so carefully, unsure of what would come next. Softly, Sidney pushed a strand of hair away from your face and his hand landed under your jawline. You stopped breathing, and he tilted his head and suddenly, your lips were on his. Barely there, but still there.

He had time to savour them for a few short seconds before a loud noise erupted from the living room. The team everyone was rooting for scored. You gasped and pulled away immediately.

“I got to go; I think my boyfriend’s calling my name. I’m sorry, Sidney.” You ran away and Sidney refused to turn around. It would be too painful to see you getting curled up in another’s man lap, especially since your boyfriend never actually called out for you.

Just like in his dreams, you slipped away. But those weren’t dreams. They were nightmares. And they were becoming true.

#sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby #nhl imagine #nhl

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 2 days

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Can you write fuego with a pregnant wife?

Hi!

I thought that I had done quite a few of them, but... apparently not ^^' Admittedly I took some inspo from my own long fic (aka Embers -series) for this, and basically used a scene as a basis. Anyways, hopefully you like it ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Romance/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: pregnant reader, marriage mention, Fue gets kicked by the baby in the face, a lot of fluffy feels

Fuegoleon had always deemed himself to be a family man. Granted that he has other aspirations as well, and hadn’t had a partner for such a long time, which was why such a status and aspect of his life had been placed on the backburner for the time being.

Not that it had particularly stopped thinking about the future, and the family he might like to have. A wife. Kids. Maybe a few. One was too few for his liking, but he wouldn’t push for more if his partner so wished.

It was a personal preference if nothing else.

But. It had existed in a daydream for a time longer than he could tell.

Until he had met you.

Not that the images had flashed through his mind clear as day from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon you, but rather… it was like a gentle, comforting sensation. The knowledge that this… this would be it. With you he could go on to build something.

What he had felt, was a kind of familiarity. Like this was how it was supposed to be, and nothing less would suffice.

A part of him wanted to rush. To just move together. Get married. And have the titles of husband and wife. But another part of him held back. Because that seemed more courteous. Something that one does. Bids their time and takes slow, tentative steps to the ever after. Not marry the woman he met less than a year ago.

Though people did do that.

But people, aside of royalty, were more free to make such actions. And he didn’t wish to place such scrutiny onto the two of you. Because it would just be unwanted attention. Rumours of a bastard child possibly.

Senseless gossip.

Attempts to tarnish a reputation.

No matter how displeased even the mere idea of it made him, he chose to abide the customs. Little steps. One by one. And yet with each day he tried to show his devotion, even if with words, scattered here and there, a passing touch, lingering gaze. Some if which came without a thought, because it, too, was easy; as natural as breathing.

And now…

As you sat there, in the arm chair with rings in your ring finger, and a baby bump on your tummy, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because it was his whole world that existed in that chair. And he made a point to cherish the moments where he could know, with absolute certainty, where the two of you were; away from harm and trouble. In the sanctity of your shared living quarters.

“Come here,” you told him with a whisper while stroking your stomach.

He perked up, eyes opening just a little wider, as he made his way across the room and crouched by your chair.

“The baby is kicking,” your tone was hushed, delicate and tender, as if you were speaking out a secret that was only for the two of you to know.

His eyes shifted between your expression, gorgeous and loving like the first rays of dawn, to the little bump in which your precious child resided.

He placed his hand onto your stomach, and waited.

Waited for a moment longer, eyes attentive and curious.

“Come on,” you cooed. “No need to be shy, kick some for dad too.”

‘Dad’… he thought as the corners of his lips tugged further up.

One of the most esteemed titles he could be granted.

“Come on,” you encouraged again, as if your child could hear. But… somehow it didn’t seem to make a difference, if they could, or could not. After all, they didn’t have the language to comprehend for a good while still. So, you were speaking because… speaking to your own child was one of the most natural things to do.

Your precious miracle.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled and pressed his cheek against your tummy. “You are far better acquainted with your mother,” he mused while closing his eyes. “But I can’t wait to meet you to-“

*Bump*

A kick right to his nose.

He jolted back.

You raised your hand to cover your mouth.

“Feisty,” he said while holding onto his nose. “And packs a punch already.”

There was a laugh that flowed from your lungs; equally amused and concerned.

“Are you okay?” You asked while placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“I am,” he chuckled before placing his cheek against your stomach again. “It seems we’re having a true Vermillion here,” he mused to himself with a wide smile again. “But no kicking or punching your mother,” he told, sternly, to your bump and the child. “Understood?” He quirked an eyebrow.

And… almost as if to reply, there was another kick, but this time against his hand. A much softer one this time.

“Good,” he smiled while closing his eyes.

You placed your hand onto his head, and let your fingers stroke through his silken hair, as your eyelids closed half way at the tender sight before you.

Because this… this really was him, at his happiest. While holding you, and being held by you; when he was with his family.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #fuegoleon x reader

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pepi1989 · 2 days

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Please write more Ben Shelton fluff? Smth like you being a pro tennis player, maybe even ranked a bit higher in women’s tennis and teaming up for a mixed doubles and it’s super cute and flirty and accidental physical touches like hand holding or brushing hands etc or after winning sets he hugs you tight or pecks your cheek etc stuff like that??? Thank youu

omg first request?? loved writing this

Courtside Chemistry - Ben Shelton

The stadium lights shone bright as the mixed doubles match was about to begin. You glanced over at Ben Shelton, already grinning as he bounced on the balls of his feet, adjusting his racket. Ranked 13th in the world, he had that natural confidence that made everything look effortless, but it was the unspoken chemistry between you two that made this match interesting.

“Ready to carry me?” Ben asked, flashing you a playful smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Carry you? Pretty sure I’m ranked higher, remember?”

His grin widened. “Touché.”

The banter eased the tension, but as the match kicked off, it was game on. The two of you moved in perfect sync, rallying back and forth with your opponents, but every now and then, there’d be a soft brush of skin, an accidental touch that left you hyperaware of his presence.

At one point, you both lunged for the same ball, and your fingers tangled. His hand wrapped briefly around yours, sending a spark up your arm.

“Didn’t mean to steal your shot,” he teased, though his fingers lingered just a little too long.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You can leave the shots to me, Shelton.”

The match was neck-and-neck, but you both held your ground, with Ben hyping you up between points. “You’re unreal out here,” he murmured after a particularly tough volley.

His voice was soft, and for a second, you almost forgot you were in the middle of a match. “Focus, Shelton,” you reminded him, though your own heart was racing faster than usual.

When the two of you won the first set, Ben turned to you immediately, arms wide open. Before you could react, he pulled you into a tight hug, the warmth of his body catching you off guard. “We’re on fire!” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. And just like that, he pressed a quick peck to your cheek, so fast you weren’t sure it even happened. But judging by the smug look on his face, it definitely did.

“Was that necessary?” you asked, trying to keep your cool, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“Absolutely,” he winked.

In the second set, things heated up even more. You could feel the eyes of the crowd, but all your attention was on Ben. His constant encouragement, his little laughs when you made a great shot, and the way he’d nudge your shoulder every time you passed each other.

And then, during one particularly intense point, you both dashed towards the net at the same time. You barely managed to return the ball when you collided with him, chest-to-chest. The ball went out of bounds, but neither of you moved, standing frozen in place, faces inches apart.

“Guess we make a good team, huh?” Ben said, voice low, his eyes locked on yours.

You swallowed, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours. “Yeah,” you breathed out, barely able to focus.

When you won the second set and the match, Ben wasted no time. Before the crowd even started cheering, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close again. “Guess I’m lucky to have the world’s best partner,” he said softly, his voice a little more serious now, as he pressed another kiss to your cheek, this one lingering longer than the first.

The crowd roared, but all you could think about was the way Ben’s hand felt on your waist and how he seemed a little reluctant to let go.

#ben shelton #ben shelton imagine #ben shelton x reader #tennis x reader

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softdreamlesssleep · 1 month

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God, "I missed you" sex is the best

#eep.txt #as soon as we were alone he kissed me hard and just couldn't get close enough #we went to his room and he immediately attacked my neck i don't think i've ever had so many hickeys at once #he kept grinding for so long against me on his lap 😵‍💫 i was very desperate for more but he just wanted so feel my skin against his #he was sososo cute with his messy hair and the way he kept saying i love you!#i could see myself in the mirror in front of his bed i didn't think i was this fucked out lmao #maybe the first time i moaned this loud and talked this much too #usually i have to keep quiet even though it's hard cuz there's other people but it was so nice having him aaalll to myself #when he finally put his fingers in it felt like heaven i'd been so long #and same he just kept going so deep and so fast my god he said he liked hearing me again #i had to stop him cause i was getting really overstimulated but it was so good #i'm pretty sure it's the first time i've actually like moaned his name without meaning to do it #apparently i didn't realise i was babbling and scratching his back so hard #god i love being a power bottom and calling him cute or my sweet boy and getting him desperate but...#when he goes feral like that after not seeing me for a while? it's the best. i'm so lucky to have such a service top #so happy to be with him again #after we cuddled and we showered and we cooked and then watched videos and then talked and laughed #i'm so happy right now to even see him sleeping next to me :]#sorry i meant to do a sexy post but i guess this is more positive venting i'll make a proper one later #still new to this writing thing i'm probably very bad at it but it's nice to have a place to write down my memories and experiences

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rosicheeks · 6 months

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i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

#uhhhhhm no you HAVE NOT SENT THIS TO ME BEFORE?!?!#I literally am speechless #I’m not super talky right now #but even if I was I feel like I’d still be fucking speechless #like I already said I love your writing 🩷#and it fucking BLOWS ME AWAY when people write about me or use me as an inspiration #like????????? what??????? me???????????!#I’m going to keep this close to my heart and look at it whenever I’m feeling down #I don’t remember if I said that already but it’s true #I need to get a journal or a cute box to put things like this in so I can just grab it and look through them when I’m feeling shitty #one thing I needed to say is the fact that you shared this with me now of all times??? is kinda crazy to me #idk if it’s a coincidence or if the universe/God/whoever/whatever is trying to tell me to go back into music and singing #not going to go into it too much but I’ve been looking at my life a lot lately #and I’m realizing I’m not getting any younger…. I know I’m still young but if I don’t do something soon -#my life is going to completely pass before my eyes and I really really don’t want that #I’m *finally* going to get mental help soon (long story but I have to wait a few weeks)#and once I’m actually mentally stable I can focus on what I want to do with my life #so I’ve been thinking a lot about my performing arts background and then randomly a get an email from a choir director I know #asking if I could please join the choir for their Easter performance cause they could really use my high notes #and she just kept complimenting me and it felt really nice ☺️#then when I went to the first rehearsal I sat next to this girl and we were singing a part and the first sopranos go up to a high A #and I can hit it easily but most of them couldn’t so it felt like I was going this mini solo lol #but she asks me what my range is and I told her that back when I trained I could sing queen of the night which I think goes up to an F6 #and she was talking about how impressive that is #and it made me think about if I actually trained and got back into it how good I actually could get #I don’t mean this to be like ‘look at me look at me I’m so good’#it just feels nice to have a little bit of a direction again #who knows if I’ll actually go down the music path again but it does sound damn exciting #I miss it with all my heart - I miss singing and performing and acting… I even miss music theory #anyway rant over and i ran out of space but thank you so much I seriously can’t thank you enough 😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

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florenceisfalling · 2 years

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like idk. i miss seeing content from s.igne (though i respect gab wholeheartedly). i miss fanart from my favorite artists. i miss older eras of j.se at times (and yes, there were older eras, the way people pretended he Never Changed is just weird). i miss old anti designs. i miss the old fic trends. i miss having a very active fandom (though i am so happy to see the new arrivals) and i miss seeing him interact with fans the way he did on tumblr back in the day. i miss the way i used to interact with some of the blogs here before i decided to fuckin,,, wage holy war and make enemies out of them (joking, but i have seen sides to some of these people that i wish i could tear out of my memory). i miss feeling confident that i could trust the good intentions of people here and even the big man himself (not god. that makes sean sound like god. you know what i mean). i miss when some of you weren't so fucking bitter which is funny because i'm the bitterest bitch alive. idk. i don't think it's bad to miss any of these things because i'm not going to be an ass and act like it's anybody's fault. i'm not going to be bothered by gab for being happy because i'm glad she is happy, and i'm not going to get bothered by sean taking a reasonable step back from this hellsite when people were cruel to him, and i'm not going to get mad at trends for changing because that is how time works. but i do miss things and i know its cringe and parasocial and perhaps even problematic but i hate having to pretend like i never have Any feelings about the past lest i break a hypothetical rule of what is the Normal level of attachment to an online community. okay. i think i'm done now.

#one of my favorite writers left because they couldn't deal anymore and one of my favorite writers turned out to have shit views and one of #my favorite writers left because of something that was partly my fault and one of my favorite writers stopped writing because of two of the #others and one of my favorite writers hurt someone i love over and over and over and one of my favorite writers left because they were the #someone i love. two of the big names hate queer folk that don't align with their ideals and half the artists left for twitter or for dead.#the man himself left because criticism always becomes cruelty and people lie to make themselves feel good.#the editors all turned their accounts private and my favorite told me on livestream that i was good and starting somewhere but then forgot #my name. and i thought maybe i was the bitter one but then i look at some of the other people who have been here so long and wonder why #they even bother anymore because they care more about complaining with everything j.ack does than anyone who actually enjoys his stuff.#and you know i poked fun at *** for a lot of things. some deserved some not. and one of them was the fact that she compared fandom #to warfare. and yes that's still silly i don't think it's a fair comparison but i do know that she wasn't fully wrong.#when you've been here for a long time and ive Been here for a long time you start to get really used to names and faces #and the change can be like waking up to a new wallpaper in your room. not a bad one just a new one.#i don't want to pretend that this fandom is just a silly little hobby for me when lets be honest i know some of yalls personal lives a #little too dearly for that. ive loved people here ive lost people here the first person who showed me this place fucking DIED and i still #lose it sometimes over the fact that he would have loved jameson so much and we couldve been closer friends had he stayed alive a few more #years. so yeah. sorry for being fucking cringy or whatever but there have been times where i've felt like im on a sinking ship watching #everybody else row away and i refuse to go. so like. cool. cool. im glad things are good again but i never really got to process the bad #things.

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cesium-sheep · 5 months

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I've always bounced back so quickly as soon as I get even the slightest bit of breathing room. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it seems to be happening again.

I was talking to matt earlier and like. I'd be happy at 50%, that's an entirely acceptable long-term quality of life for me. (I've been below 5% all year.) but I suppose I don't have to limit myself to only 50% if I'm responding so well that it seems I might get further without significant additional cost (personal or financial).

#plus again I do need enough wiggle room that it's safe to (very slowly) take away the prednisone #like that's kinda the more immediate goal #and I don't actually have to reach 50% for that.#did I write down that the immunologist was appalled at the dose tampering from last year when I mentioned it?#anyway idk I just kinda. made peace with being debilitatingly ill for the rest of my life yknow?#and like. a week ago 50% felt soooo distant and aspirational #possibly too much to hope for #a very long-term goal #but I'd say I'm probably back in the 20s already? just eyeballing it?#at least if the past couple days become the norm #(honestly hanging out in the 40s is honestly pretty fine long term)#(but 50% is a good straightforward concept)#(I was in the 40s zone from the time I put my foot down about mcas until I got covid with the exception of a bad med and the vaccine)#(that's over a year with the exception of 2 2-month periods.)#(the first resolved on its own after stopping the offending med)#(the other we had to medicate out of)

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imaginedisish · 21 days

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Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif

You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself.

Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time.

So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night.

Or so you thought.

“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.

He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you.

“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?”

He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”

He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”

You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”

But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?”

You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth.

“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”

You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”

“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.”

You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.

“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”

You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.

“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”

Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head.

You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him.

He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game.

You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy.

Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks.

You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest.

Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you.

“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask.

“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”

You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer.

“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”

You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”

He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again.

You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”

He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.”

Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”

He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”

“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop.

He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why.

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”

Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone.

“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask.

“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.

You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?”

“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes.

You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”

“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.”

You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people.

“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks.

“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”

The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks.

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.

“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”

Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly.

“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”

You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”

“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”

You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”

Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”

Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”

His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”

“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.

He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”

“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say.

Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.

He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”

He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below.

His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on.

“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”

His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”

Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”

He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts.

You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.”

He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts.

He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties.

“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you.

His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”

You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips.

“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”

“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.

He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit.

“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly.

You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”

He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing.

“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”

But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles.

“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst.

“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”

Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish.

“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.

It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming.

Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop.

“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp.

He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release.

You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice.

Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”

“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit.

He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist.

He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”

“W-what do you—”

And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

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wonustars · 4 months

Text

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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