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 ♡.
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down bad
bucky barnes x reader
author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.
warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only
word count: 3.9k
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”
“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.
“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.
“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.
“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”
“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”
“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.
“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”
“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”
Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.
Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.
“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”
“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.
“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.
Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.
“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.
“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.
“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.
“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.
“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.
“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”
“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”
— — — — —
One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.
What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?
You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–
“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.
You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…
Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.
“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”
“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.
“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”
“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.
There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.
“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.
To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.
“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.
Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.
“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”
If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.
“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.
“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.
“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”
“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.
You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.
Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.
You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.
You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.
The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.
You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.
“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.
“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”
“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.
Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.
“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.
“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.
“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”
He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.
“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.
“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”
Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.
He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.
At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.
“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”
“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.
“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.
You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.
“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”
“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.
He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.
His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.
His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.
If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.
“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”
“I say show me the way.”
He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.
Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.
He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.
The very last door opens without a hitch.
Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.
Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.
You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.
He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.
You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.
He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.
You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.
He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.
You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.
“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.
You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.
You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -
“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”
His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.
He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.
“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.
You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.
You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.
He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.
He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.
God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…
Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.
You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.
His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.
“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.
It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.
You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.
When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.
“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”
“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.
He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.
It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.
“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”
You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.
You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”
You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.
Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.
♡♡♡♡♡
i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭
as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!
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iv. dolly
see all chapters here
tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder
the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago
˚୨୧₊♱
"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.
With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"
"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"
Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"
A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.
"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"
Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.
"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."
"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"
Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"
"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.
As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"
Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"
Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."
˚୨୧₊♱
The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.
Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.
Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.
Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.
"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."
"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."
"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"
Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."
A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"
“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"
With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.
Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."
"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"
"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.
"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.
"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."
"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.
Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.
As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.
"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"
With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"
As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.
On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.
Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.
Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.
"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.
The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.
"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."
"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.
It was a look he knew all too well.
"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"
Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.
Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.
The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.
"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."
"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.
"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."
"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"
Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."
Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.
The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.
"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.
"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"
"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.
"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"
Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"
"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."
"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"
Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."
Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"
"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."
Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"
The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.
"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.
"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."
"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.
"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.
Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.
˚୨୧₊♱
You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.
You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.
"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."
Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.
A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.
You missed your husband.
With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.
"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸
A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.
Alastor.
Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.
With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.
"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.
Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.
"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."
Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.
From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.
Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.
The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.
You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.
In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.
Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.
The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"
"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"
"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."
Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.
To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract
"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"
"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"
As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.
"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.
"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.
"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.
"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.
"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."
"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.
"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."
A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."
Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.
"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.
"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.
Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.
“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”
"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."
“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”
Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.
"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"
Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.
A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "
Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.
"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"
"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."
Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.
The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.
The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.
Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.
"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.
"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."
˚୨୧₊♱
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