#requested fanfic
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The Gentle Giant (Bane x Reader) Part I
Requested by Anonymous- Hi could I request for Bane 😀. Something Angsty and smutty as you can. We're reader is a quiet meek person and stuck in the chaos of banes gothem. Bane sees her getting attacked and helps her, to her surprise. Bane is still mean and scary though and when he has to protect her a 2nd time he decides to keep her with him she is terrified but even though he is rough and mean he starts showing is soft spot for her and things get hot from there.♥️♥️ What ever you can come up with I'm sure will be great no pressure if your not feeling it.
A/N-First off, I like to say I’M SO SORRY to the person who requested this over a year ago. I got around to writing this and using most of my time off to get this done. Originally, I was going to post this as a preview of the story, but instead post part 1 of this fanfic. I also went absolutely overboard when got towards the middle part of it. So, for right now I’m going to post this as two-part fanfics and later on when I finish the whole thing, I’m going to post the whole entire fanfic in post as I originally intended for.
Part two may take much longer to write since I need to catch up on other requested fanfic, so that I don’t fall behind much further that I’m already am.
So, please enjoy reading part 1 of this and I’m so sorry again for taking this long for this to written.
Warnings: Choking, hair pulling, lots of language, and violence
Citrus Scale: 🍑
W.C+: 11.2K
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Gotham City. A place you called home. Or it was until a mysterious figure by the name of Bane took over. You weren’t born in Gotham, but moved to the city for your job and a fresh start in your life.
When growing up, you were very quiet and only spoke at appropriate times. Your parents weren’t bothered by how you kept to yourself and never pressured you about it either. This became very useful when the city went to shit.
Winter came after a month when Batman went missing. You’ve never caught a glimpse of who this Bane was or what he looked like. All you have to do was survive this fucking chaos. But this was very difficult with all of Gotham’s criminals running around the entire city. The only time you went out for supplies was at night. Sure it was dangerous doing it, but during the daytime hours, it was even more dangerous. So nighttime it was.
As the winter sun began to set, white flurries of snow started to fall upon Gotham. The snow never seemed to stop day or night. Covering the empty and silent streets. It felt completely dead and desolate once Bane’s reign began over the city.
All the rumors you’ve heard of this mysterious man prosecuting and judging those who’ve done wrong to the city and then showing no mercy towards them. It’s true that the justice system of Gotham was fucked up and a miscarriage to society of the people of Gotham. You don’t give a shit towards the justice system at all, since this whole thing began and Batman being out of the picture.
Besides that, you didn’t know who to trust during this time and never will if you can’t survive with another person going against your throat. However, you’ve managed to get a message to your parents, telling them that you’re alright making it out on your own and doing what you need to survive. That was the last time you spoke to them, before communication to the outside world was cut off from the city.
Now you were on your own. It’s been two and a half weeks since your last supply run and your stash is getting really low. Due to winter coming in, you’ve been going through your food and drink rations faster so that they don’t go to waste. You were well stocked on other supplies for another two to three more months, but food and drinks (mainly water) were the most important things to get.
Once the sun finally set for the night, you began to gather your belongings before going out. You always wear your heavy winter coat, long knitted scarf, gloves, and boots during the winter time to keep warm and safe during your nightly supply runs. Before you swung your backpack onto your shoulders, you double checked to make sure that you’ve got everything for tonight.
Flashlight (with extra batteries of course), three bottles of water, two boxes of granola bars, some extra pairs of clothes, and a fully stocked first aid kit. You then double checked yourself to make sure that you’re all bundled up before going out into the cold, snowing weather. The last two things you needed to take with you were your can of pepper spray and baseball bat.
Those were the only weapons you’ve carried around with you since who didn’t know how to use a gun and never will.
You don’t usually use your pepper spray when you go out, but kept it on hand just in case. Your baseball bat was of more use for you, because it was aluminum metal instead of wood. Does all lot more damage than with the pepper spray can on full blast.
Now that you’ve got everything ready for tonight, you checked one last time before heading over towards the door. As you reached the door, you couldn’t help but look at yourself in the mirror. You were all bundled up in your winter coat that went down to your knees, all zipped up with the faux trimmed hood resting behind your head. The neon striped black knitted scarf neatly wrapped around your neck to protect from the cold weather. Black winter gloves protecting your hands from getting frostbite from the snow. Finally, heavy black leather snow boots tied safely around your feet and ankles.
Normally, you would go out like this during the winter time either to your workplace or when you go out into Gotham City itself. But now, things have changed for everybody including yourself.
Now you have to carry at least two objects with you, in order to defend yourself from the fucked up criminals that are walking freely on the city streets and underbelly of Gotham. Still looking through the reflection, you saw yourself holding an aluminum metal baseball bat in your hands and a XL can of pepper spray peeking out from the right side of your coat pocket.
Everything is completely different now. It affected you the most when it all started. All you have to do is survive and fight for yourself. That’s all that matters now.
After several seconds of looking at yourself in the mirror, you turned back towards the door. Your apartment’s door was heavily locked up. Three deadbolt chains rested tightly in between the wooden door frame and the wall.
Originally you had one deadbolt chain when you moved in, but after a couple of break ins you asked your landlord to add two more so no more break ins would happen again. Two deadbolt locks and one standard locking door knob. The two deadbolt locks were already there when you moved into the apartment.
Lifting your hand up to the top chain, you felt your heart begin to pound inside of your chest. It always does this whenever you have to go out for supplies at night. Then you started to calm yourself down, as you finally placed your hand upon the top chain. Slowly you began to undo the chain from the sliding lock and then let go after it was out of the sliding lock. It swung back and forth for a moment until it stopped. Then you went down to the next deadbolt chain and undid it. After that you went to the last one. You were hesitant at first at removing it, letting your thoughts run wild. Shaking them away, you placed your hand onto the final deadbolt chain and slowly pulled it away from the door.
Once it was removed, you then went to the two deadbolt locks and twisted them open to the side. Finally, you slowly unlocked the door knob. Placing your hand onto the knob, your heart began to race again, but it calmed straight down.
It’s just a supply run. Nothing else. Just get what you need and you won't get hurt or killed tonight, you told yourself in thought. You then slowly turned the door knob and began to open the door at a slow place. The hinges creaked open against the wooden door frame. Thankfully it wasn’t loud enough to be heard from down the hallway.
Poking your head out of the doorway, you looked down both hallways twice to make sure that the coast is clear. All clear, you told yourself. Slowly, you pulled your head back in and then stepped out quietly, placing one foot in front of the other. After you were finally out of the doorway, you turned around to close the door slowly and steadily. It quietly creaked against the door frame and gave a silent locking noise after it was fully closed.
Once you removed your hand from the doorknob, you tucked your hand into your coat pocket for a moment, until you found the keys for the door. Grabbing a hold of them tightly with the palm of your hand, you made sure that they didn’t make any noise. One by one, you picked out the keys for the two deadbolts and the door knob and twisted the keys into each lock. After locking the door knob, you placed the keys back into your coat pocket and padded it down. The keys made a muffled jingle sound inside of the pocket.
Placing your hand back onto the door knob, you tugged on it hard and pushed it a little at the door. It was all locked up tightly now. Nobody was going to break into your place at all. Looking down the hallways one more time, you head down the right side of your floor towards where both the elevators and stairwell are located.
Ever since this whole chaotic justice system started over a month ago, about half of your apartment complex and most of the other residents on your floor became very skittish and violent with one another, even towards you. You did your very best to avoid them at all costs. The only person you still trusted was your landlord. Mr. Asher helped you out when you moved in on your first day in Gotham City. He was always there for you whenever you had a problem inside or outside of the complex. You completely trusted him with every fiber of your being, when this whole fucking chaos started, with everybody on your floor going after you and trying yo break in to kill you. He warned if anybody either on the floor or the entire building comes after you or goes near, he’ll kick their sorry asses out into the cold.
And after that, nobody else on your floor and the entire building ever threatened you again. It was dead silent as you walked down the hallway, except for some muffled talking either from the people inside or from their TV sets. You couldn’t really tell if it was one or the other. The muffled talking got more quiet as you walked away, the elevators came into view.
Not many of them weren’t working anymore after several fires broke out from the floors below and inside the shafts themselves. They were tapped off and had scorch marks melted into the steel work. The only one left working on your floor was the middle left.
You made your way over to the only working elevator and pushed the down button arrow on the panel. From behind the steel doors, you heard the mechanism start up. Since it was the only elevator left working in the building, you and the other residents have to be careful using it.
The elevator finally stopped as it reached up to your floor. The small ding sounded and the sliding doors opened up in front of you. Before stepping in, you looked over your shoulder one more time to make sure that you were all alone and nobody was following you out. Looks like it was clear to go now.
As you’ve entered onto it, it slightly moved but stayed in place. Once you were inside, you quickly turned around, reaching out with your hand, and pressing the Lobby button on the control panel. The button lit up as the elevator dinged again and the doors closed. Then after a few seconds, it began to move downward in the elevator shaft.
Why did this ever happen, you kept asking yourself over and over a thousand times by now after a month that everything went to shit. Bane or whoever he was, taking over the whole city in just one night. Prosecuting those who go up against the new justice system of Gotham. You always knew that the whole justice system was totally fucked up once you moved here.
Without any word or sightings of Batman, who was going to take down this Bane guy anyway? Not you of course. You’ve only heard rumors and talk, but never really seen him up close in person. You are quite small, but average height for yourself.
However you taught yourself self defense. It was the only thing to do since Batman wasn’t here anymore to save everybody in Gotham.
You snapped back to reality when you noticed that the elevator stopped. The light screen above the button panel for the floors said L on it. It meant that you finally arrived at the ground floor or the lobby area of your apartment building. The doors opened for you.
Taking another deep breath, you stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby area. After you got off, the doors closed right behind you.
The whole lobby was completely trashed. Every piece of furniture was either destroyed or turned over onto their sides. Trash cans turned over and bags were scattered everywhere in each corner. There was also graffiti sprayed on every wall and window. Several of the lobby windows were blown out. Thousands of shattered pieces of glass were littered all over the lobby. Half of the lobby lights that were still working, lit up the shattered glass pieces on the floor. Making them look like dozens of tiny fallen stars.
Looking outside through the broken windows, the snow started to come down harder and the wind began to pick up. Feeling a shiver go down your spine, you moved yourself forward so that you don’t waste time tonight. You could hear the shattered glass crunch underneath your winter boots.
Rather than going through the front doors, you instead go out one of the blown out windows. Once you’ve stepped outside onto the lightly snow covered sidewalk, the cold night wind blew through again.
Another shiver went down your spine, as you felt the cold night air touch your half covered face. You felt the snowflakes land upon your half covered face. Melting one by one as they touch your cold skin.
Instead of just standing around, you had to continue on with your task to get more supplies. Looking around the empty streets and roadway, you headed down the left side of the street you were on. Usually you went the other way to get your supplies for the next week or so when this whole thing started, but after a whole month went by you had to result in other measures given the situation.
Originally you had gone down to the supermarket around the corner several dozen blocks on the other side of your apartment building complex. The manager and several of the store employees started to hand out needed supplies such as buckets of food, cases of either bottled water or gallon jugs, and other such needed things.
That’s until looters and the freed criminals took advantage of it and started to take/loot everything from the store shelves. All of them completely cleared out every single item from the whole store and other places around that area.
There was nothing left in that store or anywhere else in the other stores in that area. You never went down there again after they took everything out. You yourself were doing fine with the supplies that you had already. Unfortunately you went through your food and drink stash faster than originally anticipated.
It was supposed to last for another week or two, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Word had gotten out from a few people that live on the same floor you’re on, that there was another supermarket down the other way that hadn't been looted at all. Fully stocked up.
Hoping it was still untouched by looters, you decided to go there anyway to get what you needed to last the next two to three weeks if possible. Looking around while walking, you couldn’t help but feel displaced by everything here.
You were at work the day it happened. Just sitting there at your desk in your shared office space at the computer when the building began to shake violently. The only thing to do was to take shelter underneath your desk, until everything stopped shaking.
Later, you and everyone else found out there was an explosion at the Gotham City football stadium. The whole field was gone in a matter of seconds. That’s how it started. There was a live TV broadcast coming in from the stadium on every single channel. An announcement came through loud and clear when the silence finally broke.
It was about true justice being served at last and prosecuting those who don’t follow along with the justice system. You didn’t know what the fuck was going on and who was talking during the speech. He announced himself as Bane. All that you can remember from that day forth was that deep raspy voice. The very first time you heard that voice sent chills all over your body. Then it all went to shit.
Bane’s soldiers raided almost every single building in the city. Looking for those who didn’t serve the justice system the right way and got away with it. Most of the buildings including your apartment complex were spared from the ordered raid.
After that, you took matters in order to survive this new world of justice, but you have to be careful in doing so. As you continued to walk down with the snow still falling, there were distance gunshots going off followed by a car engine roaring. Echoing off of the buildings and dying off seconds later.
The wind picked up and a cold blast came at you. The cold air made you stop in your tracks and lowered your head down. Feeling it blow past your half covered face and making your skin turn ice cold. Once it died down again, you continued walking on the half snow covered sidewalk.
It was rather tricky walking upon an ice covered surface and you walked at a slow and steady pace. You hated the winter time, even in the city now. All you had to do was bundle up, keep yourself warm, and not stay out too long in the fucking cold. Always trying to be very careful during the winter season, even now with everything going on.
After finally stopping at the last curb, you looked all around the area and at last landed your eyes upon what you were looking for. The safehaven you needed your supplies from: the supermarket that one person talked about.
It looked untouched from looters and criminals. No broken windows, no missing shopping carts, no graffiti sprayed on every single piece of the building, and of course nobody else around to stop you.
You couldn’t help but smile a bit that you made it here by yourself and nobody else got in your way. This is your one chance to get in, take what you can carry out, and get the fuck out of there before something bad happens or something much worse: Death.
You became afraid of dying either in your apartment from an intruder or on the city streets when this whole thing began. You didn’t want your parents to grieve over your body and make them suffer for the rest of their lives.
Since it was still dark out and the snow was still falling down, you had to act fast and get what you came here for. Looking around to make sure that nobody else was there hiding in the dark shadows or going to be attacked, you dashed off the curb and ran across the street as fast as you could
Your heart began to race, as you ran straight towards the glass sliding doors of the market building. Your backpack bouncing against your back. As you were getting closer and closer to the store doors, you began to slow down to a speed walk.
You were out of breath by the time you got to the closed doors and had to stand there for a few seconds before you could do anything else. Your heart went back to a normal pace, as you were catching your breath.
Placing your one gloved hand onto the freezing glass, you squinted and looked through the door into the store. Completely pitch black darkness. Not very visible from either side of the glass, because you were fogging up half of the glass with your covered mouth, temporarily blocking your vision from your hot breath.
Time to act now and fast. You quickly shrugged off your backpack with ease. You still held onto the bat just in case. With a quiet, crunchy thump onto the half snow covered sidewalk, you quickly opened the zipper, dove your free hand into it, and felt around the bottom to find the heavy duty flashlight.
After a few seconds of feeling around, you’ve finally found it and pulled it out. Closing it up now, you lifted the backpack up and slung your arms back through the shoulder straps. Now it was time to go inside.
The only way to go in was through the front, since you don’t have time to check other places to get into the store through such as back or side doors or even windows you can get through. So front doors it is.
You crouched down to where the lock was located on the metal door frame. With some help of the still working light above you, it illuminated the crack for you to see a bit better.
From the looks of it, the security deadbolt lock wasn’t engaged into the slot. This made it much better for you since you didn’t want to break in through the doors.
You quickly and quietly placed both the bat and flashlight onto the ground, placed each of your fingers into the door crack, and began to pull it open. You yourself didn’t have much strength when it comes to pulling or moving heavy items around. With doors it was more work to do, even with just yourself doing it.
As you keep on pulling and pulling, you feel the door start to slide open. It was a huge struggle at first to pull the doors open with your small, meek frame. It felt like they were stuck into place because of the cold weather coming in.
Until you felt a small jolt as you continued on pulling the doors and they started to glide open more easily. A sigh of relief washed over you and the heavy pressure from pulling open the metal framing lifted off of your shoulders.
The doors settled into place for right now. You then picked both the bat and flashlight as quickly as possible and headed inside through the now opened entrance. Making your way inside, you walked very slowly and softly so as to not create any echoing footprints on the floor.
You couldn’t believe your own eyes as you held the flashlight out in front of you. Aisles upon aisles of everything you can find in a store. Each of the shelves you saw in front of you were completely left untouched.
Nothing was out of place and nothing wasn’t missing either. You felt your heart flutter like a bird locked in a cage, by looking at all this unlimited supplies. But you have to act quickly now and take as much as you need with you back.
Looking around with your flashlight beaming brightly in the nearly darkened space, you spotted a row of stacked shopping carts near one of the emergency exit doors in the far corner of the building. You quickly walked over to where they are and grabbed one that was closest to you. Moving it back and forth for a few moments to check to see if it was in good working condition.
None of the four wheels were squeaking or going in another direction. Grabbing a hold of the handle, you began to push it towards the aisle where the bottles of water were kept. You placed the bat inside so that you can one hand free, while your other one held onto the flashlight.
You then turned a sharp right down the aisle and found where the water was. There were single served regular to XL bottles all across the top to middle shelves in the aisle. The only ones that you really needed the most were the 2.5 gallon jugs. You only used them for cooking, washing the dishes, and drinking as much as you needed to. About half of the residents in your complex have a tendency to overuse the water heaters, they have a tendency to shut off on their own if they hit their breaking point. The only time you need to use the water in your apartment is for the shower only. Saves you a lot of trouble so that you don’t have to overuse the water all the time.
On the bottom shelf towards the floor, you spotted the water jugs that you needed the most. The bright side is that they came in a pack of four instead of two. Halting the cart to a full stop, you got down onto your knees and grabbed the pack towards the front of the bottom shelf. The two handles on the pack made it a lot easier to grab ahold of and lift it up.
But it wasn’t quite easy when you were lifting it up from the floor. With the weight of the water including the four 2.5 gallon jugs made it feel like you were hoisting up a fucking boulder from a mountain side of all things. At least your small frame of a body could handle this sort of thing for only a few moments.
You had to place your foot on top of the under rack of the cart to keep it from moving as you were loading the four pack onto it. The pack slightly shifted the weight of the cart now, but you’ll manage to push it as long as you can.
After it was loaded into the cart, you bent down again to grab another four pack of water from the bottom shelf and then placed that one on top of the other pack. Now you were all set for water for the next several weeks to another month or two. There was other supplies you needed to get and you had to act fast.
Grabbing a hold of the cart again, you pushed with all your strength you had and turned a sharp left at the end of the aisle. The remaining supplies that you needed to get were batteries, toothpaste, sanitary pads, canned food, candles, matches, a couple of flashlights, pain meds, snacks, and a new radio.
Your heart was at a steady beat as you wheeled around the empty aisles of the store, grabbing what you needed. The more you filled up the cart, the more it became difficult to push around. Besides, you were going to take it with you anyway since you needed a way to get the supplies back to your apartment. There was a service elevator towards the back of the lobby where the parking garage is located, because it had more room to fit into than the regular elevators themselves.
The only thing left to get was a new radio. The one that your parents had given you when you were moving out, shorted out on you when you were trying to tune into any of the radio stations that were still on the air. It was very unexpected the way it had happened when it sparked and started to smoke. Besides it was old anyway and there was now way of replacing any of the parts now since they’ve melted together in one pile.
Electronics were located towards the back of the store and you made your way over as quickly as you could. The sooner you grab one, the sooner you can get out of here. Once you’ve turned the corner of the electronics aisle, you went straight down until you’ve found the boxes of radios. Halting the bugging into place, you shifted the flashlight forward to look at what radios they’ve got on the shelves.
Towards the top of the shelves, you’ve found one that looked useful enough for you. Reaching up on the tips of your boots, you managed to grab one of the boxes that was closest to the edge of the shelf. As you wrapped your fingers onto the top of the box, a sudden noise caught you off guard.
Without warning, the box slipped from your grasp and fell on the floor with a soft thud. Oh fuck. Somebody or something was coming. No time to act in self defense. You needed to find a place to hide in the store, until what or who leaves. You grabbed the bat from the cart and within seconds your flashlight was shut off.
Quickly and quietly, you made your way through the aisle and straight towards the back of the store. The only place that you could hide in was behind the pharmacy counter. It was tall enough to hide you until it was safe to come back out.
You pushed through the doubled hinged swinging door and then ducked behind the counter. Tucking your knees against your body and resting your head upon them, you hold onto your breath so that you don’t give away your hiding place. Both your flashlight and bat rested at each of your sides.
Then the sound of footsteps came into view, followed by the sound of voices. “Man, look at this fucking place. It’s jammed packed with all these goodies. Just for us.”
The first voice sounded male that was almost older than you. You listened carefully to what was happening right now. You thought that nobody else knew about this store other than the few residents on your floor talking about it.
“Once we take everything on this side of the city, we’re going to own this place and everything in it.” The sound of laughter soon came after, echoing off of the ceiling everywhere. “Fuck yeah. The boss’s going to be over the moon about this. No more scrounging around for rations.”
A second male voice, but sounded a bit younger. There were only two of them. No chance of sneaking out. Just to sit tight and wait until they both leave so that you can get out of here with your much needed supplies.
“Hey, let’s check around and make sure that EVERYTHING is here and report back to the boss about our search,” the older one chuckled a bit. This is not good. You left your supply cart out in the open, with the radio box still on the floor. They’re going to notice that you were going to take those supplies with you.
No way you were going to sneak past them. You’ll get caught within a second if they ever spot you. All you have to do right now is just to sit tight and wait for both of them to leave. It wasn’t going to be easy though since you have to hold your breath, not to make any noise that’ll alert them.
You heard their footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling of the store, making you feel like you were trapped between a rock and a hard place. It sounded like they were going through each of the aisles, checking to see what was still there on the shelves. Sooner or later, they’re going to notice several items missing from their spots and inside of the cart you were using just now. Hopefully they don’t see it and the stuff inside.
“Hey, come over here quickly. Found something” Too late. The running of footsteps soon came after. “What is it? What did you find,” the second male voice sounded out of breath. “Looks like somebody came in and tried to take this stuff with them,” you heard the shuffle of the items you were taking being moved around in the cart.
“Oh yeah. Then why’s this shit still doing here in the store if it never made it far enough to the front doors,” the second male sounded agitated now. “If they wanted these so badly, why didn’t they take it all with them.” His voice is getting more aggressive with his tone. “I mean come on man. All this fucking shit in this place is all ours for the taking and nobody elses’ for them to take.”
The first male sort of laughed at him and his laugh echoed. “Because you fucking idiot. They didn’t make a run for it at all. Instead they’re hiding out somewhere in here” You heard the rattling of the box that the radio you dropped is in and being tossed to the other male. The second male scoffed at the first.
“Whoever they are, they can’t hide any longer. Not even from us.” You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and a lump form in your throat. You didn’t know what to do now. Your whole body began to shake badly. The last thing on your mind was being caught red handed.
“Come on. They couldn’t have gotten far,” their footsteps resumed and both started to walk back around the aisles. Now instead of leaving, they were looking for you. Why did it have to happen tonight? You started to blame yourself for leaving the comfort of your completely safe and warm place. But you can’t blame yourself right now. You’ve made it all this way out here just to get supplies and you weren’t going to take any chances. Giving up is not an option for you now. It’s time to get out of here.
After coming out of your thoughts, the sound of their footsteps suddenly stopped. Complete silence, but something didn’t feel right about it. You took a deep and quiet breath in. Exhaling through your nose a couple of times, you lowered your knees back to the floor. They felt sore from the way you sat on the floor.
Rather than standing back up to look, you instead decided to crawl. Lowering yourself onto your side, you made sure that you didn’t bump anything that was behind you. Grabbing both your bat and flashlight once again, you started to crawl very slowly towards the swinging door. You held a steady breath as you crawled along the carpet floor. Your heart was at a steady beat, but felt like it was beating faster.
As you neared the corner of the swinging door, you made sure to tuck both the bat and flashlight beside you just in case something goes down. With a slow and steady breath, you looked through the large opening underneath the swinging door. Nothing much to see, except the streetlights outside the store faintly bleeding through the front windows.
Looks like the coast is clear now for you to come out of your hiding place. Quickly, you scooted back a bit to lift yourself back up from the floor. As you were grabbing your flashlight, something felt very off. Like the whole atmosphere in the entire room changed. Holding onto your breath yet again, another lump formed in your throat. You began to crawl much slowly now, not making any sort of startling noise. As you neared the corner of the swinging door again, you felt a mysterious dark shadow looming over your crawling form.
“Well looky looky here Charlie. It looks like we have a mouse in our house.” All of a sudden, you’ve felt a large hand grab ahold of your hood with a fucking strong grip and pulling you out of your hiding hiding spot. The only thing that escaped from your throat was a high pitched scream. It echoed off of the high ceiling as you were being dragged out of your hiding place.
It felt like you were being tossed like a rag doll across the store floor as you were being pulled out. You slammed into a shelf that was near and got the wind knocked out of you. Crouching over with your arms hugging your padded sides, you knew that you were totally fucked now. You were grabbed again, but this time your hood was pulled back from hiding your pale face.
You had no other choice, but to look up at who caught you. The one that was holding you by your hood had a medium build, that almost reminded you of an MMA fighter. He had on military type gear such as the vest, camo pants, and combat boots. Underneath the vest was an olive green pullover hoodie. On his hands were a pair of black winter gloves where the fingers on the gloves were cut off.
The other one stood across from you, leaning up against the front of the pharmacy counter. He had the same gear on, except he had on a black pullover hoodie that looked bigger than him. He had a smaller build than the other one. Both his arms were crossed and had one leg crossed over the other.
Both had dark hair with undercuts. You couldn’t really see either of their faces since they were halfway covered with some face coverings they use to keep cool out in the deserts. Their skin looks pale, but it was hard to tell from the faint light coming in from outside. The most disturbing part was their dark eyes. So dark they almost looked possessed.
Your whole body froze as you looked into their eyes. Fear began to fill you with awful dread creeping its way into your heart. There’s no escaping now.
“So. What do you think you’re doing?” The one that was holding onto you by your hood sounded agitated when he asked you. You had no other choice but to answer his question. “I was,” those were the first two words that popped out of your mouth. Your voice was low, almost like a whisper.
“I was getting supplies,” you spoke up more so that both of them heard you loud and clear. It felt like holes were being bored into you from their stares. “For who then,” he asked again, but it sounded like he was gritting his teeth together.
“Are you stealing our shit to give to other people or taking it all for yourself,” he spat, lowering his face to yours. You could almost feel his hot breath on your cold skin through his face covering.
You swallowed hard. The fact he’s much closer to you, it was making you more afraid of him. More and more fear began to flood your entire body. Still, you have to answer him or else you’ll be killed.
“The supplies are for me. I was running low and needed to replenish my stash.” His hot breath ghosting your cold skin. You could feel that he was getting more angry with every second. With a sudden jolt, he grabbed you by your hair that was held up in a ponytail in a tight grip. You let out a painful gasp, with your mouth gaping open. You can feel his thick fingers digging into your scalp.
“Then why are you fucking stealing from us then,” he hiss straight into your ear as he got much closer now, “this is our territory you little bitch.Why did you ever come here? There are other places in the whole fucking city you can raid.” You felt him dig his finger nails deeper into your scalp.
The pain started to increase more and more when he was digging in. “Most of the other places were emptied out,” you gasped, as you tried not to move much while he held your ponytail in a tightass grip, “this was the only place that had the supplies that I really needed. That’s all I’m here for.”
“Please,” you started to beg now, which was the only thing to do, “just let leave with my stuff and I’ll never come back here ever. I’ll leave you two alone and I won’t ever talk about this at all either. Please just let me go.” You said with a shaky breath.
With a sharp, deep breath, he pulled your head back with a sharp jolt and dug much deeper into the roots of your (H/C) hair. You let out a painful cry as you could feel him pull your hair out almost.
“I don’t think so, little princess. You’re coming back with us,” he said as he got much closer to your face. His hot breath fanned more of your skin, making it feel like it is about to melt. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes. Fear began to fill your whole body.
“Terry,” the younger one spoke up at last, clearing his throat out, “do you think that’s a good idea man? What if she’s lying about what she said and probably in a group with other people? They’ll know if she doesn’t come back and they’ll come looking at the last place she was at. Eventually they’ll come looking for us if anything happens to her.”
Terry? That’s the name of the fucking brute that’s holding onto you by your hair in a tight grip. Then Charlie must be the younger one when his name was called out earlier. They could be related to each other or just comrades in their group. Either way you have to get out of here now and fast.
You could feel his breath getting hotter and hotter as his breathing increased rapidly. “She’s not with anybody else,” he hissed as he turned his head towards Charlie and away from you. His hot breath left your skin quickly and it grew cold once again.
With quick thinking, you had to move your hands slowly into your coat pockets to find the XL can of pepper spray. You remembered that it was in the pocket on the right side of your coat.
Without making any sudden movements, you very slowly reached into the pocket with your one hand, while the other one held it open a bit. Your fingers touched the tip of the can at last and then your palm snaked its way down onto the canister itself. Grabbing a hold of it now, you slowly pulled it out of the pocket and moved it to the other hand.
It took only a second or two to find the spray trigger on the cap and place two fingers on top of it. Now all you have to do is wait to push it.
“If she was with somebody else, we would’ve known when we got here. Either way, she’s coming back with us and the Commander would know what to do with her.” He sounded very serious. Whoever this Commander person is, they’ll kill you for stealing their stuff from their now claimed territory.
“She needs to know not to fuck around with us at all and get away with our goodies. We just can’t let her go. She needs to be taught a very big lesson.” That was your que to get ready to run as soon as you push the trigger on the pepper spray can. You ready yourself.
“Okay sweetheart, you’re-” as he turned his head back towards you, you quickly lifted the canister up, pressed the trigger, and sprayed it directly into his eyes.
He let out a long yell once it hit him straight in the face, lifting his tight grip from your ponytail, and went to cover his face with both hands. The spray would temporarily blind him, making your escape much easier to get out of this fucking place.
Quickly, you shrugged off your backpack, sprang up from the floor, and ran like a bat out of hell as fast as you could. You could hear the asshole that grabbed you crying out very loudly in pain from the pepper spray that was making his eyes burn. “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, IT BURNS. I CAN’T FUCKING SEE. MY EYES WON’T OPEN,” his voice echoing off of the ceiling, making it bounce everywhere.
“GO AND GET THAT FUCKING BITCH, BEFORE SHE ESCAPES!” Shit. You have to get out of here faster before you get caught and won’t be able to get away from them again.
Thinking very fast, you decided to run in a zigzag line through the aisles, in order to confuse the other one. Your heart started to race again in your chest, as you made your way through the aisles. Both of your feet picked up more speed as you made sharp turns towards the end of each aisle, making your way back to the front entrance of the store.
Passing the last aisle, you’ve found your way back to the front. You felt relieved now, knowing that you were going to get out of here alive. Knowing that you had to leave behind both your backpack and supplies behind, but the only thing you care for the most is your own life.
As you drew closer to the front doors and were about to run through them, something grabbed ahold of your scarf from behind and tugged on it with a very powerful grip. You were once again thrown across the floor and collided with one of the shelves that was near the front.
When your back slammed straight into them, you felt a sharp pain build up like a raging fire and it spread across your body, making you cry out in pain. Then you felt your throat grabbed ahold of, as your scarf was pulled away to expose your pale neck. Slender fingers wrapped around your throat and began to put pressure upon it.
“Do you think that we’re going to let you escape from us? Guess again little bitch, you’re coming back with us either way,” as the pressure on your throat began to increase more, you looked up to see it was the younger one, Charlie, holding you by the throat this time. The street lights casting upon him made him more menacing looking in the darkness of the store. His dark eyes looked like two black coals searing in complete anger.
You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach, knowing that you’re totally fucked now. “Besides, I’m going to have so much fun with you after what you did to my older brother and making you pay for it.” He said, with the utmost glee in his voice.
Older brother? Shit, you’re doubled fucked now. Nothing comes out good when messing with either older or younger siblings, especially the asshole types. Besides you can still take him on, since you still had the pepper spray can in your hand and it was still full too.
Slowly you lifted your arm up, with your fingers ready at the trigger. Before you could press the trigger and spray him straight into his eyes, he grabbed ahold of your wrist with his other hand. He tightly squeezed his fingers around it with painful pressure. He narrowed his eyes at you, looking more menacing.
“You think you can do that to me, like you did to my brother? Guess again princess. You don’t get away with shit like that and think you could forget all about it.” His grasp around your neck started to get tighter and tighter, making it more difficult to breathe. You felt your airway starting to close up and began to gasp for air like a fish out of water.
Your chest heaving up and down at a rapid pace, making your heart beat faster and faster like a rabbit. You began to wheeze as the air disappeared from your lungs.
“It’s time for you to fucking pay up princess,” he loosened his grip around your wrist and grabbed the pepper spray from your hand.
“Eye for an eye,” he said as he pointed the cap towards your eyes, ready to pull the trigger. Tears began to flood your eyes again and fell down your cheeks. You tried gasping for more air, but your airway was completely blocked off.
Your vision was blurring away as it got difficult to breathe anymore. This is how you were going to die.
“Well well, what do we have here,” asked a heavy, raspy voice. You felt your heart skip a beat or two when you heard it. The voice sounded menacing, but in a calm way. So calm in fact it was more gentle than rough when it spoke.
Your captor’s eyes went from aggressive to complete fear when he heard the voice too. He widened his eyes, almost to the point of bugging out of his skull. It was almost like he knew who that voice belonged to. Quickly, he spun around to face the hulking figure that stood there in the shadows.
“BANE,” he said with a shriek once he turned around. In the process, the canister slipped out of his hand and dropped to the floor with a metallic thud. His other hand left your throat in a hurry, relieving the pressure from it at last.
You bent over, hacking and coughing air into your lungs. Even when his hand left you, you could still feel its harsh warmth on your bare skin. Almost choking a couple of times, you started to breathe normally again.
Looking up with tears still streaming down your face, you see your capture dropping to his knees and starting to crawl over towards this ‘Bane’ figure. “B-b-b-b Bane, wh-wh-what are y-y-y-you doing i-i-i-in this district,” he stuttered out. You could tell that fear filled every inch of his body.
The figure let out a long, raspy sigh as he looked down upon your capture crawling towards his feet. It looked like he was going to beg for forgiveness from this hulking being.
“I was taking a nice stroll through the snowy weather. Patrolling through the streets of my new domain, until I heard a great commotion coming from here,” he cocked his head to the side. From the sound in his voice, it sounded like he was somewhat agitated. “So do pray tell. Why are you doing here?”
There was great silence for a moment, until you could hear stammering coming from the person that held you by your throat. “W-w-w-we were ch-ch-checking out th-th-the place,” he swallowed hard, while trying to make eye contact.
“We?” He asked in a calm tone. “M-m-m-my older brother an-an-and I,” he continued on stammering, “our leading commander told both of us to go check out our new piece of territory. We came in here to check on the goods, to see that everything was still in place before taking over.”
Then your captor looked over his shoulder towards where you still were, “then the both of us caught this little bitch hiding out in here and tried to take what’s actually ours.” Afterwards he turned back towards the figure.
The figure sighed another raspy breath, almost sounding like he was disappointed. “Caught her? Then why did she escape from you,” he asked another question, but getting more agitated with his words.
You could tell now that your captor is shaking like a leaf in the wind. Becoming more afraid of this Bane figure. “We did have her. My brother was holding onto her by her hair and talking about the consequences of trespassing into our territory and not to steal our shit. Apparently, she had a can of pepper spray hidden somewhere on her and sprayed my brother with it in his eyes. He couldn’t see anything and was defenseless. He told me to go and get her. That’s what I did. I caught her before she could escape through the doors. I was going to teach her a valuable lesson about what she did to my brother.”
It sounded like he was making himself and his older brother sound like victims rather than criminals and making you look like the bad guy from his perspective. No. Only you were the victim here and both of them were the actual criminals.
A sudden loud noise caught you off guard, making your heart jump a bit. You turned to look over your shoulder to see what was happening, until you saw an arm coming around the corner of the shelf, with the fingers wrapping underneath it. Coming into view, it was the older brother/your other captor. It looked like he got some of the spray out of his eyes, but not all of it. Pepper spray is very powerful shit for self defense.
“Fuck Charlie, what’s taking you so fucking long? We have to-” He stopped dead center in his tracks as he noticed the hulking figure too. The figure moved his head upward and turned towards where your other captor was standing. He inhaled a very sharp breath when the figure looked over to him now.
“Ah, you must be this gentleman’s older brother then.” He said, as he shifted in his place a bit. “Bane,” he said as he stepped an inch or two to get a closer look, “what are you doing here in our territory?” He asked with a hint of fear in his voice.
“Territory?” He asked in a more curious tone this time. Your other captor nodded his head. “Yes. Since everybody who stayed in this part of Gotham City abandoned it, our whole crew decided to take it all for themselves, including my little brother and me.”
You could feel there was tension in the air now, as the hulking figure standing in front of all three of you shifted his shoulders and crossed his arms. “What makes you think that this is yours,” he doesn’t sound amused now.
“There’s nobody else here anymore. This is all ours now for the taking. We deserve all of this.” He said with much glee in his voice. He wasn’t wrong about any of that. Ever since the city was taken over, most of the residents of Gotham have either fled the city or gone someplace else to take shelter, because of the criminals that Batman have put away are loose once again.
“Deserve this?” Bane asked as he tilted his head to the other side. He was getting more agitated with his raspy breathing and starting to lose some of his patience little by little. “No. You don’t deserve any of this. You’re nothing but rats infesting wherever you go and where you shouldn’t be.”
“We are not rats,” he said through his gritted teeth. “We belong up here, not in the fucking sewers hiding out like there’s no tomorrow for us. I am done hiding in the fucking shadows and so is my little brother. Both of us don’t want any more of this.” At this point, you could almost feel his blood boil through his skin.
“Done hiding?” Bane asked as he began to move forward with heavy footsteps, “I have hidden in the darkness for the longest time myself. I was born into it and molded by it. The darkness may be a cruel, twisted, and unforgiving place. But for myself, I find it very peaceful,” he said as he gave out a raspy chuckle.
As Bane got closer and closer with his heavy footsteps, you could feel your back to tense up, just by looking at him. You could barely see what he looked like since there wasn’t enough light coming in through the outside.
He stopped in front of your captor, overtowering him with his tall build. You could hear his breathing increasing rapidly, as Bane stood inches in front of him. Craning his head upward just to look at him. Even after being sprayed in the eyes, fear filled them as tears fell down his face. His whole body trembling were he stood.
As you kept on breathing in more air into your lungs, Bane turned his head over slowly and looked down where you were on the floor. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes through the half lit entryway, they looked more calm than menacing.
“Dear one, did these two hurt you in an ungrateful manner,” he rasped, asking you in a very polite voice. You felt tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes again and a wincing sob escaping through your lips, as you took a deep, painful gasp of air into your lungs.
“Yes,” you squeaked out like a little mouse and felt your heart drop a bit in your stomach. Bane gave out another raspy sigh, but this time sounded more angry and disappointed. He then turned his head back towards your captor and gave him an angry glare. Your captor swallowed very hard and could hear his breath shaking through his lips.
“I’m very disappointed with you,” Bane said, as he placed a large hand upon his throat. Your captor shuddered when Bane placed his hand upon his throat, as more fear filled his entire body. It was trembling completely at this point.
A slow crunching noise began as Bane started to squeeze his hand upon your captor’s throat and within seconds it started to increase more and more with each squeeze.
Your captor began to gasp as pain started to shoot through his whole body. Both of his hands shot up to where Bane’s is and tried to pry it off of him, but with no such luck. He gasped more and more in pain as the sound of bones crunching got louder.
The sound almost made your stomach turn, wanting to vomit just hearing it. The younger brother started to scramble at the distressed sound of his older sibling being hurt.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY BROTHER,” he shouted at the tops of his lungs as he charged towards the hulking being chocking the life the out of his own flesh and blood. He leapt onto Bane’s back and wrapped his arms around his neck.
Not wanting to watch any of this unfold before you, you mustered the courage and what’s left of your strength to run back to the other side of the store. At first you had difficulty getting up off of your own feet, but eventually made the effort from going to a crawl and into a full on sprint. The blood flow rushed back into your legs, giving you back into feeling them once again.
Instead of zigzagging through the aisles like you did the last time, you ran in a straight line all the way back towards the pharmacy where you hid before being found and caught earlier.
The rush made your heart beat faster again as you reached the back of the store. You dov back behind the counter of the pharmacy and found your flashlight still laying on the ground where you left it. After you quickly grabbed it off the floor, you crouched back down into a sitting position with you hugging your knees again with flashlight in hand. It felt like your lungs were on fire, as it was still painful to breathe in air after being nearly choked to death and were about to be sprayed in the eyes with your own self defense weapon.
Farther away, you could hear the comotian of the two brothers and this Bane person. It was very hard to tell if this person is the real Bane or an imposter of him since you don’t know what he really looks like in person. Then the sound of crashing made you break from your thoughts, as you could hear shouting.
“LET GO OF MY BROTHER YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” the younger one screamed at the top of his lungs. Another crashing sound made your racing heart jump against your ribcage. It was louder than the last one. You decided to cover your ears, to muffle out the noise of the fighting.
With your hands over your ears, you could hear your rapid heartbeat rushing to them. You could also hear a slight ringing inside them. Properly from being thrown around a couple of times in the last fifteen minutes.
More shouting and crashing sounds, making you more jumpy than normal. You closed your eyes tightly and tried to block everything out of your mind. Your breathing became more rapid as the fighting increased more and more between the two brothers and the hulking figure Bane.
Another crashing noise came, followed by some more shouting. The shouting was too muffled to hear, with your hands still covering your ears. Besides, you didn’t want to know or find out. Then you heard the sound of running footsteps, disappearing into the distance. Complete silence now.
After a couple of seconds, you slowly opened your eyes back up and then removed both your hands from your ears with a shaky breath. Mustering what’s left of your strength, you lowered your legs back to the floors and slowly lifted yourself back up.
At first you were a bit wobbly, but managed to stand up straight. Your breathing was turning back to normal, but your lungs still hurt a bit.
With your flashlight in hand once again, you slowly walked back to the entrance of the pharmacy and peeked around the corner. Nothing. Looks like you’re all clear.
Quickly, you dashed through the double hinged swinging door and went straight for your backpack you left behind before getting caught again.
As you were about to grab the handle of your backpack, the sound of heavy footsteps made you stop in your tracks as they made their way towards where you were. You scrambled backwards, accidentally tripping over your own feet and fell backwards towards the floor. A white, hot sharp pain surged through you again after landing onto your backside.
Lifting your head up, your eyes widen in prue terror to see the hulking figure coming straight towards you.
You started to crawl backwards at a fast pace and slid across the smooth floor without slipping. You felt your back arch up when you backed into the counter, pressing up against the smooth surface.
At last, the figure’s heavy footsteps stopped several feet in front of you. A lump formed inside of your throat, as your eyes laid upon this large being standing in the darkness.
“Ah, there you are, little mouse.” He said with a small, raspy laugh, “you are in no danger anymore. Those two ungrateful gentlemen are now gone”
It was quite difficult to see what he actually looks like through the shadows. With your flashlight still in hand, you decided to flip the switch on to illuminate the figure in front of you. Pressing your thumb against the switch, you flicked it up and the flashlight came on once again. As the bright light illuminated the darkness at last, your jaw dropped as your eyes widened more at the sight of the hulking figure.
He was tall. Quite tall in fact that he practically overtowers your own height. You were roughly in-between 5’4” to 5’5” in height. From his stature he looks almost six feet tall. He wore what to be military or military type gear such as the vest, but no weapons were on him. A long, winter coat covered his broad shoulders down to his knees. His pale skin glowed within the light, giving off a warm feeling. The one thing that caught you off guard, was his mask.
The mask covered most of his face, wrapping around his clean shaven head. A long leather strap tied around his bald scalp, pressing against the skin tightly. It almost looks like those muzzles for dogs, but this one is designed very differently.Whatever the situation was, it looks like it was especially designed for him.
The one and only thing that made him look so normal looking were his eyes. Bright and beautiful blue eyes. They looked so calm and collected, as they shined very brightly in the light. It was like there was no darkness inside of them, making you feel almost safe.
You felt your heart flutter like a bird inside of your chest, as you continued to look at him. His large chest raised and fell slowly as he looked down upon you.
“It’s quite all right now. You have nothing to fear little mouse,” as he began to move slowly towards you, you felt your body tense up again as your back arched up against the smooth, wooden counter.
He stopped dead in his tracks just several feet in front of you. Still looking down, he lifted his hands, wrapped them around the shoulder straps of his vest, and tilted his head to the side.
“You still don’t trust me, little mouse?” He asked in a calm manner. You shook your head. Trust him? After what you’ve been through tonight, he wants you to trust him. Though he did save your life, but still, you don’t completely trust him after what he did to the two assholes.
He sighed heavily and slowly closed his eyes. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes back up, removed his hands from the shoulder straps of the vest, and then lowered his hulking body down into a crouching position.
You backed up a little more, with the back of your head nearly pressing up against the counter. Though he was just several feet away from you, it felt like he was much closer. Even with the light still trained upon him, you got a more detailed look of his face.
“Then you better listen, little mouse. Don’t go wandering about this place all by yourself. Many unknown dangers lurk everywhere, even in the darkest corners of the world. Best not to do it again. You may never know who or what may find you.”
The way he said that was somewhat true. Walking by yourself around Gotham city was dangerous enough even before the city got overtaken during the purge. You were always very careful when you were all alone, while walking the streets at night. Still, you could almost feel yourself trembling before this massive human being, even when holding up a flashlight just to look at him.
“Well then, it’s time to be off,” he said as he began to stand back up. He dusted himself off, turned his back towards you, and started to walk away. “Oh and one more thing,” he stopped to look over his shoulder back at you, “it’s best not to meet like this again, because what I’ll do will be very unpleasant. Is that understood, little mouse?”
“Yes,” you said in a quiet voice and nodded your head. “Good. Best to get out of here while you still can and take what you need. Safe travels home” He turned his head back and continued on walking. The sound of his heavy footsteps faded as he walked away from you. Soon after, the footsteps were gone and so was he.
At last you breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed yourself. You sat there for a moment, thinking about what just happened this night. You were afraid at first that you were going to be killed and never see your parents’ faces again.
But if it weren’t for Bane, you wouldn't be alive right now. You thought more of what he just said to you before disappearing, about him doing something very unpleasant if the two of you ever met like this again. You may never know. Not until the next time the two of you crossed paths.
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To be continued in part 2
#bane#the dark knigth rises#bane x reader#Character x Reader#x reader fanfiction#x reader fanfic#fanfiction blog#fanfic blog#requested fanfiction#Requested Fanfic#fanfiction part 1#fanfic part 1#part 1 fanfiction#part 1 fanfic
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❝ envy ❞
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° synopsis
you never knew he could be so envious of his own bandmates.
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° genre & tags
fluff / idol!au / jealous shua / sort of insecure josh if you look hard at the end / its sweet overall tho
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° pairing
joshua x afab!reader
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° w.c
1.9k words
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° author’s note
requested by anon, ily2<3
˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ now loading… enjoy! ꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄
Y/n l/n, a growing rookie solo artist under Pledis Entertainment but if anyone knew you well enough, they’d also know you as Joshua Hong of Seventeen’s partner. Joshua had long debuted by the time that you’d become a trainee under Pledis’ strict ways but he and Seventeen often visited you while you were practising. They remembered their trainee days well and they offered an array of support to you during the harsh times when they hit you. Pledis had already made it clear they had no intentions of debuting you in a group - they didn’t exactly have the trainees to debut a group and they also weren’t exactly scouting for any. You didn’t mind, perhaps being a solo artist would make your talents thrive even more.
After your debut with a catchy, summery girl crush song in the month of June, you were quick to gain popularity as Pledis’ latest rookie. But it came as even a shock to Seventeen’s millions of fans when it was hinted in an interview with Seventeen that they’d be having a comeback soon - and even more of a shock when they let it slip that it was a collaboration with you. In the time leading up to it, you’d never spent more time with Seventeen’s members without Joshua around. Yet you had to work with both Soonyoung and Jihoon almost daily.
“What if we add this part to the pre-chorus?” You mumbled from where you sat beside Jihoon in his studio. Jihoon made a soft noise, watching your finger trace the screen of his laptop where you were both working on the instrumental of the song. The track would be on their newest album they were preparing for and in all honestly, Jihoon had admitted to you that it was nice to have someone to share the work of writing music with for once.
“I mean we can test it, definitely.” Jihoon nodded, dragging the part you were focusing on and letting you test where you were thinking of putting it. The two of you sat quiet as you listened to it play, tapping your feet quietly.
“Opinion?” Your gaze glanced over to Jihoon’s furrowed brows. He nodded, running his hand through his hair just as the door to his studio opened and Joshua and Mingyu shuffled into the dark room. A smile crept upon your face, leaning your head back as Joshua leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
“How’s it going in here?” Mingyu hummed, throwing himself onto the couch by the wall as Joshua continued to stay behind you, his hands on your shoulders. Jihoon sloped back in his chair, looking at his laptop screen.
“Well y/n might have just made a turning point in this, we moved a part from a verse to the pre-chorus and it’s not too shabby,” Jihoon chuckled, glancing over at you. You beamed with pride but you couldn’t help but falter under it, your cheeks turning red as Joshua’s hands squeezed your shoulders slightly and you thought it was out of reassurance, “I mean we can always get your opinions on it too?”
“Sure,” Joshua mused, looking over at Mingyu who nodded, “would love to see what my girlfriend’s brilliant mind is up to in here.”
You wasn’t stupid, you caught onto how Joshua emphasised the ‘my’ in his sentence and you slowly glanced up at him, trying to hide the fact your heart did mini backflips when he smiled his little bunny teeth down at you as Jihoon began to play the sample of the song. Pursing your lips, you looked away from him embarrassedly. Maybe he was just being proud of you and you were overthinking it.
-
For a week straight, you had to spend time with Soonyoung and his handy choreographers in the dance studio trying to figure out how you could be incorporated into a Seventeen choreography. You’d figured that would be difficult enough, you were definitely not as skilled when it came to dance as Seventeen were and your dances as a solo artist were simple enough thanks to only having two back-up dances.
Hence, you spent more time with Soonyoung trying to learn this dance he was setting up for all of you than you had spent in Jihoon’s studio writing a whole song with him. Of course, this left you aching and constantly exhausted.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” the warm voice of your boyfriend hummed as he entered the living room, a towel around his neck since he’d not long emerged from the shower, “let me guess, Soonyoung?”
You whined, nodding gently as your whole body hurt to move while you shuffled on the couch to make room for Joshua to sit himself down.
“How the hell do you deal with his choreographies?” You mumbled, curling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. He chuckled a little.
“I’m used to it by now,” Joshua sighed, tilting his head back. You traced his jawline with your eyes and the way his eyelashes fluttered shut, “it’s almost like my girlfriend spends more time with my band than me.”
You snorted, sitting up to look at him as he turned his head, smirking a little.
“You rascal- I can’t believe you,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder as his grip tightened on your hip, “there’s no way you, Joshua Hong, are jealous right now?”
“I mean, why shouldn’t I be?” He whined, pulling you closer so you were borderline on his lap, “Jihoon and Soonyoung have seen you consecutively for two weeks now, every day.”
“Because they’re the most important two when it comes to releasing a comeback,” you huffed, shaking your head, “and now that we’ve done all the hard work, you get me all to yourself again - except for promotions... and the music video...”
“I get it, I get it.” Joshua scoffed, finally pulling you onto his lap as you rested against his chest. You could feel the heat of his body through his shirt and you just knew he’d cooked himself alive in his shower.
“I still can’t believe it,” you continued and Joshua groaned loudly, recognising you were never going to drop it, “you are so..”
Joshua cut you off, pressing his lips to yours.
“Handsome?” He poked when you pulled apart. You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“Stupid.” You taunted, flicking his forehead.
-
The time came where the fourteen of you crowded into Seventeen’s dance studio, vigorously learning the dance Soonyoung and yourself had concocted with the help of a few choreographers. The air was thick with tense energy as the lot of you focused heavily on not messing this up, the others learning intently from Soonyoung and yourself.
“You made it too difficult this time.” Seungcheol scoffed as they all fell to the dance studio floor in breathless pants and covered in sweat. Soonyoung chuckled as Seungcheol chugged his water from his bottle, the plastic crinkling even though you thought the water was probably lukewarm by now.
“It was all down to y/n here, she’s a much better idol than us by far.” He gloated, his hand patting your shoulder and lingering as he flushed you in compliments. Heat rose to your ears, making you laugh nervously as you shook your head and waved your hands to brush off the compliment. Across the room, you’d noticed Joshua’s narrowed eyes on Soonyoung’s lingering hand.
“No no no,” you laughed, a little awkward as you took a step away from Soonyoung so his hand fell, “this was all on you guys - the song especially, Jihoon.”
The group chorused in soft compliments to you, some mimicking your debut song or doing some of the dance to it at least as you sauntered to the tense aura of your boyfriend by the wall.
“Shua?” You whispered to try get his attention as you sat down and he didn’t raise his gaze from his food, “Josh? Joshu-”
“Yes?” He mumbled, finally raising his eyes to look at you. You pouted, puffing your cheeks as your arms folded across your chest and you threw yourself back against the wall. Joshua leaned back against the wall, much more calmer than you.
“Can you stop acting like a toddler in a sulk just because one of them touched me?” You huffed under your breath, not turning to acknowledge your boyfriend as he turned to look at you. He sighed, looking away.
“It’s not that, baby,” Joshua cleared his throat gently, his long fingers fiddling with his empty plastic water bottle, “but maybe it’d be best to discuss it at home.”
Your tongue poked your cheek and Joshua knew you wasn’t happy with delaying this conversation until later that night but you settled for it when he hooked an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he pressed a kiss to your head. You could perhaps forgive him for moments like these.
-
Joshua was reluctant to cook dinner and your whole body thrashed in pain whenever you moved, so you were more than reluctant to cook - especially if you’d be doing it alone. That meant that Joshua ordered takeaway again, running you a hot bath as he sat on the toilet seat lid and kept you company in the dim bathroom kept light by a few candles Joshua had lit.
“Are you going to talk now on why it was so criminal for Soonyoung to touch me earlier?” You mumbled, your eyes closed as you tilted your head back and took in the way the bubbles tickled at your skin and the heat hugged you in comfort.
“When you were still a trainee - before we got together - we spent a lot of time with you, right?” Joshua started, waiting for you to nod in confirmation as you finally opened your eyes to look over at him, “well the guys would always talk about you, like constantly. Soonyoung especially, man he was head over heels for you.”
“So you’re worried Soonyoung still likes me?” your voice was quiet after hours of yelling over the song you’d written with Jihoon to help teach the choreography with Soonyoung, “baby you know it doesn’t matter if he does - right? Who am I dating?”
“Me?” Joshua replied, almost uncertainly since he was quite confused why you’d asked it in the first place - of course you were dating him.
“Then why the fuck would I care about Soonyoung? I couldn’t give a shit if he came to me with hundreds of roses and a new car, Josh,” you laughed, shaking your head as you leaned onto the side of the bath, looking up at Joshua’s clear skin, “don’t be so silly, baby. You’re mine.”
A soft smile crept across Joshua’s face as he admired the way you folded your arms on the side on the bath, resting your chin on them as your eyes looked up at him ever so innocently. He had to laugh mentally over how the bubbles consumed your form in the bathtub and the way the ends of your hair was wet from soaking in the water but the top of your hair was dry. Joshua could stare at every blemish on your face and body and he’d still happily gloat that you were his.
With that thought in mind, he leaned down to meet your face and pressed his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss, reciprocating.
“It’s funny that you were jealous though.” You whispered against his lips and he scoffed, pulling away. Your hand reached up, covered in bubbles as you blew them into his face.
“You’re so mean,” he sighed, wiping some bubbles on his face, “but you’re mine so I’ll cope.”
#cafeshuaaa#joshua hong#seventeen fluff#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen joshua#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt#svt joshua#idol!au#requested fanfic
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Funny title. Let's just ignore it
fanfic requested by @hopeveon
it's literally just Daniel taking that rat back to the college with him.
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Not sure you do requests or not, but could you by chance whip up a small fanfic of some sort based of this picture I found?
(Yep, an Adopted!Amity fic but with Moxxie and Millie as here parents. Also for this you could make her human in the story if you want.)
Yes I do do requests from time to time and this an interesting premise so heck yeah!
(I put a bit more detailed explanation of this AU at the bottom if you want to read it btw)
AboM&Mable Prep
(Amity get's ready for a date with Luz with her Imp Mom and Dad)
“How about this? It’s fancy.”Millie said grabbing a purple plaid dress from the closet before Amity grabbed it out of her hands “Uhh yeah Plaid is not fancy, sorry Mom.”Amity said putting it back, making her mom cross her arms as the witch looked through her closet for the upteenth time
“Well I’m just surprised your having any trouble with this, all your clothes are so pretty”Millie said gesturing to her daughter’s grand wardrobe, most of them gifts from Amity’s father or uncles.
“I know, but I don’t want to intimidate her by dressing too formal, but I also don’t want to dress too casual and make her think I’m not taking it seriously. Ugh…”Amity vented out her frustrations before sitting down on a chair against the wall of her bedroom
“Ammy she did fight a paper dragon for ya, I don’t think something as silly as an outfit will scare her off”Millie assured warmly putting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder“I know… I just want it to be perfect.”Amity said nervously before Millie pulled her into a hug
“There’s nothing more perfect than being yourself. Especially on these things.”Millie said comfortingly, before using her tail to reach back into the closet and grab the plaid dress again “And use the plaid, it’s still nice”Millie said in a teasing tone, making Amity laugh as she accepted the suggestion, Millie going back to look for something else to add to the outfit, settling on a black leather jacket that had a magenta pattern on the bottom reminiscent of abomination goo
“Oh and… this, to reminisce on how you met.〜”Millie said making Amity blush at the memory “Mom! Don’t remind me, I still cringe.” Amity said slipping the dress on over her black tank top and leggings, before taking the jacket “I know.”The Impess giggled certainly not helping her daughter’s red face as she threw on the jacket, quickly heading to her vanity to see how it looked “This look needs Makeup, Dad!”Amity called quickly getting a response
“Working on it!”They heard, and before long Moxxie walked into the room holding a medium sized box of supplies “Okay, I’ve got lipstick, lip gloss, eye shadow, eye liner, blush, and more My whole show biz kit” The bard imp explained, Amity seeming to think over what to choose“Hun, Ammy all that’s too much, we’re doing lip stick and some eyeliner and that should be good for her, and if it’s not I’m getting my old ax out.”Millie interjected
“M-Mom, not your ingredient chopping ax!”Amity stammered, making Millie laugh “I’m kidding of course, but still just that should be good for her.”Millie said with a dismissive wave of her hand as Moxxie walked over to start with the make up “Dark, as you like it dear.”He said using some bluish black lipstick and eye liner, applying it wth a skilled hand to his daughter’s face, before finishing it and asking “How’s that?”
“Great. It is right?”Amity asked nervously “Of course it is, I’d kiss you all over if it wouldn’t ruin it”Millie said pulling Amity into another hug “Oh Mom!”A flustered Amity faux complained as Moxxie joined the hug, wrapping his arms and tail around his family, both eventually letting her breathe
“I’m so happy for you Ammy, I’ll know you’ll knock her dead, not literally but you get the idea.”Millie said caressing her Daughter’s cheek “And be back by nine, or else we’re calling your uncles to track you down.”Moxxie noted ever the cautious one out of the couple “Okay I get it, I… think I’ve got this.”Amity with the most confident tone she could come up with
And then it vanished the moment the doorbell rang, as a characteristic huge blush appeared on her face
“I don’t got this.”She said nervously
“Yes. you do, now don’t make us push you out the door. Go meet your girlfriend.”Millie assured a little smugly, Amity calmed down a little at the statement, beginning to walk to the door.
“Okay, just breathe…”Amity said using the technique Willow taught her, before she felt calm enough and grasped the door knob, and twisted it “You got thi-”She began to say to herself before she opened the door and any ords died in her mouth.
Luz stood there almost dressed as well as for Grom, black pants and vest over an orange plaid shirt, and brown boots though might just be the same boots she wore then.
“Luz! You look great, and surprisingly formal. Even in plaid”Amity said almost side eying her mother behind her who was howling in laughter at the coincidence
“Yeah this was kinda scrambled together from stuff Eda had scattered around the house, most of it had apple blood stains so that’s why it smells so fresh, after a hundred cycles…”Luz explained mumbling the last part before blushing as well “You look great too! Love the jacket, kinda reminds me when you spilled abomination goo all over me”Luz said awkwardly
“That was the intention.”Millie said in a half whisper still barely stopping herself from laughing
“Okay, what did you have in mind?”Amity asked as composed as possible “Stargazing actually, Eda told me about a spot she went to when she was younger that’s not too far from here, that sound good?”Luz said offering her hand awkwardly
“Yeah of course, that sounds great, let’s go.”Amity said quickly accepting the offer with a blush on her face as she waved goodbye to her parents
“Have fun!”Millie said quickly followed by “But not too much fun! Stay Safe!”Moxxie interjected, receiving responses such as “I know” from their daughter and “I promise” from hopefully their future daughter in law as the young pair walked off into the starry night
“Oh Hun, our daughter is so precious…”Millie said with a smile, hands over her heart “She certainly is.” Moxie agreed, pulling his wife close as their tails intertwined
(Okay a little bit of explanation of this AU, essentially the I.M.P crew and the Goetias are just biped demons on the isles, Moxxie is a bard and Millie is an Abomination Witch who worked at Blight industries and that kind of ties into how her and Moxxie ended up adopting Amity.
As for the Blight family, essentially Alador put his foot down when Odalia tried to get rid of Willow and divorced her but didn’t want his kids to be around that so he let them be adopted by one of his friends from work, AKA Millie while he got the divorce settled and just decided to let the situation stay after seeing how they bonded with his kids. This is why Amity knows the Park breathing thing since she never had to stop hanging out with Willow, and was also always nice to Luz.
Alador is still in his kid’s lives, him and M&M are just co-parenting. And just so you know Amity’s uncles are Blitzo and Stolas in this AU. Also sorry i didn’t really plan anything for the twins so think whatever you want here.)
#ask reply#the owl house#helluva boss#amity blight#helluva millie#helluva moxxie#luz noceda#lumity#requested fanfic#fanfic
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HESITATING // t. nott
RATING: R / 3.9K WORDS
Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a trip to Hogsmeade, you realize that Theo seems to get an awful lot of attention from girls. To avoid getting hurt, you start to distance yourself from him to rid yourself of your crush. But Theo is not having it. (Smut)
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! No protection - piv, praise kink, slight body worship, biting (one time), fem reader, language, one time skip, dom!Theo (lmk if I missed any)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
more than friends - Isabel LaRosa
---
Your eyes found the clock on your bedside table. You were supposed to meet Theo in the Great Hall in ten minutes, yet you stood completely still in your dorm, switching back and forth between two outfits. It was a Saturday, and you didn’t have the usual crutch of your school uniform, hence the inability to decide.
As the year progressed, the temperature dropped outside as well as within the castle. When chills were scattered across your arms in class, your teeth were almost clacking together. At the thought, a small shiver went through you.
You decided on a heavier sweater and jeans, noting that if you were cold in the warmth of your dorm, you’d likely be cold in the stone Great Hall.
You slipped the outfit on, selecting a thick pair of socks and a ratty pair of shoes you’d had since fourth year. It wasn’t the most stunning style, but it was efficient and comfortable. Five minutes to go.
You slipped your wand into your back pocket and headed toward the hallway, slipping the dorm door closed behind you. Theo was likely already there with his group of friends, ones you liked to call friends, as well. The sons of big names around Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, though they were just boys to you.
As you arrived at the grand doors of the Great Hall, the boys in question caught your eye and shot excited waves at you. While some of them had a bit more pride than others, they always seemed happy to see you. A smile broke across your face as you walked over to the Slytherin table, claiming the space between Theo and Mattheo.
“Hello there, darling,” Theo purred in your ear when the group went back to their conversation. A twinge of heat flared in your chest. You hid a smile.
“Miss me?” You asked, voice low. He smiled.
“Of course I did.” He threw a playful arm over your shoulder. Though it seemed to be a friendly gesture, it felt like a claim to you. A claim by him placed onto you, alerting all who you belonged to. It made you embarrassingly happy.
“Any plans today, boys?” You asked. The group turned to you.
“Actually, we were thinking of heading down to Hogsmeade for the day,” Mattheo said. “We were going to ask if you wanted to go with us?”
“I’d love to, as long as I’m not forcing myself on the group,” you said, only half-joking.
“Of course not,” said Enzo, a sweet smile on his face. “We love hanging out with you.”
“Yeah?” You teased. Mattheo rolled his eyes.
“You know we like you,” he joked, running a mean hand over your head, tousling your hair. You exclaimed and pushed his hand away, laughing along with the dark boy.
“We definitely do,” Theo laughed, pulling you tighter against him for a moment.
“Well, alright,” You laughed. “Heading there now?”
“Yes!” Enzo clapped his hands together and stood, already headed toward the door. The rest of you laughed and made to follow him.
“What about jackets? It’s cold out there!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands over your arms.
“Ah, I’ve prepared for that,” Theo said, picking up two jackets that had been placed beside where he’d once sat. You hadn’t noticed them originally.
He selected the smaller brown one and slipped it over your shoulder while he pushed his arms through the black one.
“Theo!” You exclaimed, running your hands over the nice corduroy material. “Where on earth did you get this? Whose is this?”
“Yours, of course,” he laughed as the four of you exited the castle and headed down the cobblestone path to Hogsmeade.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“Call it an early Christmas gift,” he said, smiling smugly.
“You can’t be serious!”
“Of course I am,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in one of the shops last weekend and thought of you.”
If you weren’t the wiser, you’d have thought your heart had melted and poured down through your rib cage. A blush filled your cheeks and your stomach at the thought of Theo thinking of you and then buying something.
“Thank you, Theo,” you sighed. He laughed and shrugged it off as if he hadn’t just made your whole week, if not your whole decade.
The whole way down to Hogsmeade, your heart refused to let go of your brain. The pink filter that had been placed before your eyes glowed brightly. This little crush of yours seemed to have elevated a bit, but you’d never admit that, of course.
The group stopped before the Three Broomsticks, eager to slip into the cozy building’s warmth and order several rounds of Butterbeer.
The four of you pushed through the door and selected a round booth near one of the back windows. Enzo and Mattheo headed to the front counter to order for the group.
“Have you got any plans for the rest of the day?” Theo asked, naturally sliding his arm around the back of the booth behind you.
“Well, if you’ll have me, I’d love to stick with the three of you,” you suggested.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled, playfully tugging on a piece of your hair. He was hoping you’d say that?
“Here we are!” Enzo cheered, placing two pints of Butterbeer on the table before the two of you. Mattheo was close behind him, carrying two for the both of them. They slid into the booth beside Theo, with you and Mattheo on the ends and Theo and Enzo between you. It felt comfortable.
Between each of your smiles, all with different personalities, you’d found a very safe space to stay. Every moment with these people made up a memory you knew you’d remember until you could no longer. Nothing could have ruined this evening.
“Oh, my God!” A loud voice said, drawing the syllables out. The four of you turned to look at the unfamiliar face standing before your table. “Teddy? Is that you?”
“Teddy?” You asked, wrinkling your nose at the nickname.
“Holy shit. Laverna!” Theo laughed. “How long has it been?”
“A while! I’ve just been visiting recently and thought I’d stop by Hogsmeade after not having seen it for so long.”
The girl standing before your table was incredibly gorgeous, with flowing platinum hair that reached the bottom of her spine and shocking blue eyes. Her skin appeared flawless and luminescent beneath the comforting lights within the restaurant. A fire of jealousy broiled in your chest.
“Guys, this is Laverna,” Theo introduced her. “We were pretty close before her family moved to France, and she transferred to Beauxbatons.”
“That’s me!” she giggled. It sounded like she even had a hint of a French accent. You struggled not to roll your eyes.
“I was just going to get a drink. Do you want to catch up a bit?” she asked.
Theo ushered Mattheo and Enzo out of the booth. A bit confused, they got to their feet and allowed the boy next to them to slide out and give a hug to the beautiful woman. You sipped your Butterbeer.
The other two boys sat back down and glanced up at you in scattered patterns. You ignored their eyes. You were pretty sure they knew about your little crush. Scratch that. They definitely knew.
Over your shoulder, you could hear the two of them laughing and carrying on. You attempted to ignore the burning in your cheeks. Mattheo and Enzo nursed their drinks, fidgeting randomly.
A few moments of randomized chatting passed before Theo finally came back, a poignant smile still painted over his lips. You looked away from him.
“Sorry about that,” he laughed, scooting in next to Mattheo. You tried not to think about the fact that he didn’t sit next to you. You were being dramatic.
“Alright, where to next?” He asked. The four of you discussed what to do with the rest of your day with random store names circling about. The final agreement was to head over to Honeydukes to enjoy some of their Christmas sales, and so Enzo could stock the small jar that sat beneath his bed. He tended to snack throughout the night as he was tending to assignments, refusing sleep.
You gathered together and made your way through the small town, window-shopping here and there. Every time you pouted over Theo’s seemingly obvious interest in the gorgeous girl, you remembered the jacket currently around you. Theo cared about you. Was it the way you wanted him to? You weren’t sure.
Once inside the colorful store, the four of you split and wandered your separate ways, each looking for different sweets. You always headed right toward the chocolate frogs, eager to extend your vast collection of cards. Perhaps it was a bit childish, but who cared? It was a fun hobby.
You stopped before the rack piled high with the blue boxes and stared. You tried to guess which one would have a card you’d never gotten before, conjuring up every ounce of intuition you had.
With another second of thought, you chose the one sitting on the shelf directly in front of your face. You were excited to open it with Theo; he always loved to see you add to your collection.
You turned the box over in your hands, examining the packaging. Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red caught your attention. You turn to the left and notice Theo laughing aloud, talking with that same girl, Laverna, and another girl. A dark-haired goddess with blushed cheeks and a perfect figure. Fuck’s sake.
The urge to crush the chocolate box in your hand flashed through your mind. You rolled your eyes and headed further into the store, trying to put distance between the two of you.
Mattheo was standing against a wall, browsing a rack of magazines, occasionally picking one to flip through. You stopped before him, leaning up against the same wall.
“Pouting, are you?” He asks, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. You scoff.
“No, I’m not…I’m just…,” you sigh and close your eyes.
“Just in love?” He asked, glancing up at you with a smirk.
“Fuck off,” you groaned. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was. You didn’t know. An exhausted sigh left your lips.
Uproarious laughter sounded from the corner. You recognized one of the laughs as Theo’s. The others belonged to women. That was it.
“Okay, I’m heading back to the castle,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Tell Theo I wasn’t feeling well or something.”
“What? Are you sure?” Mattheo asked, finally dropping the magazine. “We still want you here with us.”
“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” you said. “I think I’ll just head back for a nap until dinner.” And with that, you paid for your candy and headed back to the castle.
xxx
Over the next week, you made an unintentional decision to skip meals with the group. You weren’t trying to avoid them—or maybe you were—but you found yourself wanting to be alone more and more the past few days.
The thought of having to see Theo after Saturday, when he had the attention of half the girls in Hogsmeade, made you want to vomit. Perhaps it was jealousy pushing you away, but it was your anxiety keeping you there. Every time you thought of heading back to eat with the group, you reminded yourself that Theo hadn’t tried to reach out since you’d stopped seeing them. If he wanted to, he would, right?
With your decision to keep away from the boys for a while, you’d taken to eating in your dorm over your lunch break. Nobody else was ever in there, and it was kind of comfortable, to be honest. You would nibble on your meal and read, or draw, or whatever came to mind, and it was nice and quiet.
You set your book on your bed and gathered the little meal you’d prepared for yourself. Pulling the covers back, you settled in and grabbed your novel. This was absolutely lovely after a busy morning.
Just as you’d begun to settle yourself into the routine you’d started the previous week, two shouts of your name shot through the air. Before the disappointment and onset of anxiety came shock. Was that Theo?
Rapid steps grew closer and closer until the dormitory door echoed a gentle knock as if the person behind it had slowed down just as they’d arrived.
“Um…who is it?” You asked awkwardly.
“Baby, it’s Theo,” a breathless voice came from behind the door. “Please open the door. Please. I need to talk to you.”
Baby? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? The shocked mantra rushed through your head as you shakily ripped your comforter away, ignoring your food and book.
You slowly pulled the door open, seeing a nervous Theo. His eyes were shot with blushed red, and his lips were swollen. Had he been crying?
“Theo, what—?”
“Please, can I come in?” he asked. His breath exited his body in short, rough pants. You nodded wide-eyed and moved out of the way. He pushed into the room, walking to the center of the room. His hands pushed through his hair repeatedly.
You pushed the door closed and pushed the lock. When you turned, he did the same, eyes on yours. His eyebrows were furrowed together, desperation painted on his face. His lips were parted, his eyes wanting.
“What is it—?”
“You have to tell me what I’ve done,” he begged. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean! Where have you been? You’ve been gone for days; the boys say you’re mad at me, that you might not come back—what the fuck are they talking about?” he demands, his eyes wide.
Your lips parted stupidly. No words came, no matter how hard you searched for them. The only thought that could process within your brain was how you were gonna kill Enzo and Mattheo for saying such stupid things to him. If anything, they were likely trying to get him to come and talk to you—which, it seems, has worked.
“Theo,” you cave, “it’s not that I wasn’t returning or mad at you…I was…” You could barely get the words out. He watched you with intent and pressure. It felt as though you were about to suffocate.
“What? Please tell me. What’s wrong?” He begged, his voice cracking. He moved toward you, his hands raising to touch you, then hesitating and dropping. A line of shimmering tears pool within his eyes, and the pure shock of seeing Theo about to cry had your lips parting again.
“I was…,” you groan, “…jealous.” You practically whispered the last part.
“Wait, what?” He gasped, his eyes widening even further.
“Theo, please don’t make me repeat it,” you sighed, pressing your hands to your face. “I’m embarrassed as is, I was jealous of those girls from last Saturday. I felt like every time I saw you, you were making another girl laugh, and they were all fucking perfect, of course, and I-I like you so much, Theo—”
His hands pressed to either side of your face, his fingers tight and warm. His eyes were widened, his breaths heavy.
“No more,” he breathed, “please, tell me to stop, and I will, but I have to…”
His lips pressed roughly to yours, his breath more like pants. He kissed you like you were air, his lips desperate and biting. The sound he pressed against your mouth was like one of relief. You gasped against him, finally realizing where you truly were and what was happening. Your fingers tightened in his hair, begging him closer to you.
“I n-need you,” he shivered against your lips, breath shuddering. You nodded fervently, barely having time to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands placed themselves around your thighs. He yanked you into the air and placed himself on your bed, settling you over his lap. The way he’d forced you to straddle him pressed his firming core against yours, sending a shock of excitement through your body.
His fingers began to quickly work the buttons of your shirt apart. When the fabric was finally split down the middle, he pressed his mouth to the top of your breasts, mouthing hot kisses against the soft flesh there. You sighed softly, letting your head fall back to allow him all the necessary room.
“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbles against you. Your fingers brush through his curled hair, gently scraping against his scalp every so often. The feeling of his lips against you made your heart race to the point of beating against his tongue.
Much to your dismay, he pulled away and shoved you back. You fell against the foot of the bed, completely helpless as he climbed over you. The domineering air he carried with him spread over your body, rendering it pliant beneath his searing touch.
His fingers gently cradled your hips as he worked his mouth over your stomach, dipping his tongue across every curve and dip, savoring the taste of sweat that slid down your skin. As his lips heated your skin, the shaking breaths he blew through his nose cooled it down and had you reeling. The ceiling above you was all but spinning.
He followed the curve of your body all the way up to your mouth, allowing his tongue to learn every inch of your abdomen. When his lips found yours again, the both of you were panting. The only thing standing between the two of you was your uniforms.
With a burst of confidence thanks to his session of worship, you gently cradled him in your hands, applying slight pressure against his most sensitive area. At the touch, he choked against you, sucking in a rough breath.
“Please,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you. I'll do anything.” He whispered your name. Over and over and over. Begging and begging.
“Anything?” You smirked, watching as his eyes seemed to well up with the same liquid. He nodded quickly.
“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whispered. And if it wasn’t like giving someone a million bucks.
“Thank you,” he whispered, a wave of relief washing across his face. The obvious desire written across his face and actions had you feeling wanted and gorgeous. The confidence built by the second.
His fingers quickly found the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your thighs. At the sight of the thin bottoms you had on, a slow moan pushed itself between his lips. “Fuck,” he whispered.
His thumb came down to slowly swipe down the center of your core through your bottoms. You jolted at the soft action, not prepared for it. A smile spread over his face.
He gently pushed the fabric to the side, reveling in the feeling of the white lace against his fingertips. Once he’d revealed you, an even louder moan escaped from him. Only a moment passed before he pressed two fingers to his lips, coating them with a thick layer of saliva. He pulled them from his lips and began to lather you in himself.
Your lips parted in a breathy whine at the feeling. His fingers were gentle but direct, only brushing the most sensitive spots before slowly filling you up to the hilt of his fingers.
“Fuck, you just opened right up for me,” he groaned. His words sent shocks of lightning through your stomach. His skilled fingers stretched you out perfectly, preparing you for what was to come. The want in his eyes was growing darker and darker, imagining the next few minutes. It was all too much; you couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please, Theo, just fuck me,” you whined, “no more.”
“Yeah, baby? I’m gonna fuck you, don’t worry about that,” he whispered. “‘ve been dreaming about this cunt for months.” He makes quick work of his trousers, roughly ripping the clinking belt from its loops. He separates the button and pushes them down, revealing the dark briefs that framed every muscular curve.
He separated your legs and placed himself neatly between them. His hands reached down to agonizingly trace himself up and down your core. You moaned at the feeling, bucking your hips against his warmth. You attempted to salvage any of his warmth, begging for the feeling of him within you.
When he finally pushed himself into you, there was no resistance. The sounds that left your mouth chorused each other, echoing across the dorm room. He gave only a few seconds for you to adjust before building his pace rapidly. The pure length of him hit everything within you with ease. This time, there were tears welling up in your eyes as he abused every inch of you.
Sweet nothings left his mouth as he pushed roughly into you. His strong hips showed no weakness, and the hands that gripped you branded bruises against your flesh. Every second of this moment would visit you for years to come, promising you’d never find someone like Theo. He was the body made to fit perfectly against yours, with the intent to love and please and hold. And, fuck, if he wasn’t doing exactly that.
As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he reached down and pulled you quickly against his chest. Out of habit, your arms wrapped around his neck. Despite the change in position, he never let up on his speed or brutality. The only thing you could feel was his strong hands bouncing you up and down him. His teeth pressed into your neck, piercing the soft flesh there. And that was what did it for you.
You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak. As you came down from your high, you could barely keep your hold around him. His arms tightened around you, holding you up as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too. The feeling of his release pouring within you and every thrust he performed to push it back within you pulled you out for the final moment.
Stars danced around your head as he finally set you back down against the bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he had done prior. The contrast of his touch against you as he pushed the wet hair clinging to your forehead was blinding. You sighed contently as he lay next to you, eyes watching you closely.
“I’m sorry I was so emotional,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to lose you forever…before I’d even had the chance to tell you what kind of feelings I was harboring.”
“What kind of feelings?” you whispered back, turning over to face him.
“That I’m completely in love with you and have been for a long time.” Your heart swelled at the confession. Quiet giggles spilled from your mouths at the realization of what he was saying.
“I’m in love with you too, Theo,” you laughed. “That’s why I was so jealous.”
“Because I’m so sexy?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and placed a playful smack on his arm.
The moments that followed were filled with quiet laughs and sweet kisses. And before either of you had noticed, you’d both drifted off against each other. Afternoon classes were a lost cause, as was the hope of meeting back up with Mattheo and Enzo for dinner, but neither of you minded.
*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please send me a dm or message in my inbox, thanks!)*
#fanfiction#creative writing#fanfic#writing#reader insert#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#oneshot#slytherin#harry potter smut#request#requests are open#mattheo riddle#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#fem reader#female reader#smut
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trust exercises with Ghost but its him fucking you in the full nelson. Holding you in front of a mirror and bouncing you up and down like a fleshlight because you hadn’t let him carry you out of a building when you had tripped.
It had nothing to do with distrust in him. You just didn’t want to be a burden on him. But he had whispered in your ear that he wanted to work on your trust in him and then you had found yourself here.
He had a solid grip on you too, one hand perfectly snug around your throat with both arms hooked under your knees. Your face was smushed into the mirror at this point, drool stringing from your mouth.
Fucks you through more than one orgasm, leaves you an incoherent babbling mess and groans in your ear the whole time. Only takes mercy on you when you promise that you trust him.
:( i wanna do trust exercises with ghost
#requests open#fanfic#send asks#cod smut#cod x reader#cod fanfic#ghost smut#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley
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Lost in Translation
Copyright Ⓒ 2023 by Moonjxsung
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner. Doing so will result in a legal takedown per the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and is subject to legal action.
Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader
W/c: 26.5k
Warnings: accidental nudity, hospital visit, mention of masturbation, use of pet names, breast/nipple play, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex, bulge kink, sexual asphyxiation, breeding kink, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), brief mention of pregnancy
Synopsis: The older brother of the boy you babysit is an enigma, in every sense of the word- and you’re determined to figure him out.
[this work was based off a request by @antoniorhinothethird - thank you for requesting!]
18+. Mdni!
•
The idea of babysitting isn’t some brilliant proposal you conjured up in a day- but it’s not exactly a choice, either. The idea isn’t even yours, in fact, the advertisements you published on the colorful inquiry site at your mother’s behest. But “college courses are virtual these days” and “you’ll be a mother at some point in your life,” according to her. So two months into the semester, you’ll now spend the majority of your time in a new place you’ll call home, just 30 minutes out at the Lee Household.
The Lee household is considerably larger than you’d originally anticipated it to be, spanning a sizable amount of grassland and standing nobly tall at 2 stories high. The exterior of the flashy home is surrounded by paved gravel driveways, lining the neat rows of bushels and vines that surround the off-white architectural build. Giant glass windows reflect sunlight in nearly every room of the house, with the exception of the dimly-lit library on the second floor, which flaunts colossal cherry wooden bookshelves that line the walls and cover most of the smaller windows.
“Joon is usually very mellow in the daytime,” Mrs. Lee tells you as she walks you through a tour of the garden. “You’ll only have to worry about his feeding schedules, which I’ve already written and posted on the refrigerator.”
She pivots in front of you, stopping for a moment and gesturing to the stone fountain by the rose bushes. “Do you like it? It was a gift from my husband. When he’s not running the furniture business, he works in restoration a lot. This was his first project.”
“Wow,” you say, your lips parted at the sight of the koi fish and the cascading waterfall from its lips. “It’s very beautiful.”
Mrs. Lee smiles at you in response, turning on her heel and continuing to the iron gates in the front.
“Do you have any other questions?” She asks, clasping her hands together and shooting you a saccharine smile. She’s intimating, not because of her personality, which you quickly clock as rather warm and inviting. But rather, because she’s so elegant, her navy silk dress perfectly complementing the chunky pearl earrings she wears, making her look like a character from an old film. You’re not sure you’ve ever crossed paths with such an interesting woman before.
“I think that covers everything,” you say finally, giving her a small bow. “I’ll be sure to provide updates throughout the day.”
“Oh, no need,” she says quickly. “Unless it’s an emergency, l know you’ll have your hands full doing your work while watching Joon. Feel free to just give us a little summary when we’re home for the evening.”
She shoots you a little wink when she finishes speaking, clasping her hands together again and smiling down at you.
“We’ll see you tomorrow for your first day!” She exclaims warmly, opening gate doors as you make your exit out of the garden. When you begin down the paved road, Mrs. Lee suddenly gasps, calling out to you again in a frantic manner.
“Oh! Y/n, wait please!” She calls, pulling the skirt of her dress up to her ankles to jog over to where you’re standing.
“My other son will be home from school in the afternoon tomorrow. Don’t be alarmed if you hear him moving about the house. He’ll just keep to himself.”
You ponder the words for a moment, a little frustrated when you realize there will be two kids in the household instead of one, like she’d previously mentioned. But you just nod and smile at her, seeing yourself out of the driveway once again and beginning the journey back home to prepare for your first day here tomorrow.
*
This castle-at-end-of-the-road is eerily quiet when no one’s home, a once lively sight of rose bushes and marble statues appearing like something out of a horror movie when you’re by yourself. At every corner you turn, your brain runs rampant with paranoia, placing shadowy figures and silhouettes of people where there are none- except for when you’re in the presence of Joon.
At just a year old, Joon is considered one of the cutest ages, only being able to babble incoherent noises and flail his little hands around when he wants something. His closet is full of matching neutral tones, per his mother’s styling, and his sparse black hair is combed neatly to one side.
Mrs. Lee is right about him- he doesn’t cry. Nor does he ever make a fuss, really. He simply sits quietly, in the comfort of his crib, or his high chair, and he curiously peers at the world around him. You’re certain he’s taken a liking to you already, judging at how he smiles when you spoon-feed him mashed carrots and mimic airplane noises. And he only cries briefly once in the day, stopping almost immediately when you put him down for his nap.
This may be an easier gig than you thought.
While Joon naps, you take the opportunity to get some work done in the library, settling comfortably on the velvet armchair in the corner and running through a few of your online class assignments for the week.
Although you’ll be babysitting here for the next few weeks, you’re also completing your final year at university this year, your last semester being completely remote. Which gives you time to take on the babysitting task as a side hustle, and hopefully save enough money to travel a bit after university like you’ve always dreamt of.
At half past noon, Joon is still peacefully asleep in his crib where you’ve left him, the ambient sound of waves echoing softly from his baby monitor as little snores emit from his curled lips. He looks like an angel when he sleeps, and you can’t help but feel your heart swell to twice its size at the sight of him.
The gentle breeze of the October wind travels through the open windows of the library, sending chills up your spine when you sit down to work again. You get up from where you’re sitting on the armchair to latch the windows shut, making sure to lock them, before turning around to take your seat again- quickly startled by the figure standing in the doorway.
“Jesus,” you yelp, one hand clutching your chest in fear as you nearly drop your laptop.
The figure- or man, rather, says nothing, scanning the room like he’s searching for something, before turning on his heel and exiting the room once again.
He’s tall, with a slim yet muscular build, honey tanned skin complementing his chocolate brown tresses. He’s also dressed rather casually in a pair of light-wash jeans and a black top, a black leather jacket thrown over his broad shoulders and left unzipped.
“Sorry, did you need something?” You call out, perplexed by his demeanor. You can’t remember if the Lees warned you of potential visitors, but you’re suddenly panicked for Joon, remembering you left his door open.
“Nope,” the man calls out over his shoulder, not turning around to face you. And then you see it- a black backpack, slung over one shoulder and seemingly filled to the brim with textbooks.
Their other son.
This must be the son Mrs. Lee warned you would be making appearances in the afternoon. But you had assumed him to be much younger, especially considering he’s definitely old enough to be watching over his own brother.
Before you can gather your thoughts to introduce yourself, he’s gone again, disappearing down the hall the same way he so mysteriously appeared. And you wonder, briefly, how he can be so much colder than his own mother.
*
The first day of your new job is a success. When Mrs. Lee returns home for the evening, she pays you in cash, true to her traditional style, and sends you home with a tin of shortbread cookies as another ‘thank you’, though she’s already voiced it a million times. But the second day is rougher than the first, reminding you of why babysitting isn’t always an easy task despite what it may seem.
Joon is particularly antsy today, flailing his arms around when you try to spoon feed him and whining relentlessly when you pick him up. He needs several diaper changes in just your first few hours of working, and when you finally do get him clean, he’s a crying, screaming mess.
Fortunately, he still goes down for his nap at noon, which means you have a narrow window of time to complete your work for the day and get freshened up. The windows in the library are propped wide open again, a cold breeze coming through as you settle in your new favorite spot and open your laptop.
There are a myriad of assignments to complete today, and you’re briefly panicked that you won’t be able to complete the necessary few pieces if Joon suddenly wakes again. But still, you try, skimming through textbooks and typing away as much as you can to make steady progress. And at the hour mark, Joon begins to cry. Rather he wails, loudly, from the other room, startling you when you’re already in deep concentration working through a practice quiz.
You make your way down the hallway and to the right, where Joon’s room is, approaching the crib and catching a glimpse of his anguished state. His face is a robust shade of red as he wails loudly, bubbles of saliva forming at his nostrils and his eyes squeezed shut. You guide him out of the crib and into the safety of your arms, shushing him gently and rocking him back and forth the way Mrs. Lee taught you. And Joon calms instantly, hiccuping through tears as he locks his gaze on yours and fists at strands of your hair.
“That’s okay,” you coo at him, grazing your finger along his chin and cleaning some of the drool that dribbles from the corners of his lips. “I’m here. Look at you! You’re okay,” you continue, giggling at him when his quivering lips pull into a small smile. He softens in your arms, smiling and babbling with hushed sounds, clutching tightly on strands of your hair as you balance him in your arms.
“You want to come do some work?” You ask, nodding your head as if to coax an answer out of him. “That’s a good baby, huh? Let’s go do some work.”
And you travel back to the library with Joon in your arms, giving him gentle pats on his back as you hoist him tighter into your embrace and balance your laptop with one arm.
When you’re starting on your last task of the evening, you’re interrupted again today by Mrs. Lee’s eldest son, who pokes his head in the doorway and observes as you coo down at Joon’s sleeping figure while working on your computer with one hand.
“Do you want me to take him?” You hear from the doorway, and you crane your neck to look where he’s standing, his hands shoved in his pockets and his backpack slung lazily over one arm.
“I’m okay,” you respond, typing out a word with one hand. He furrows his eyebrows at your failed attempt, approaching you and reaching out his arms to take Joon from your embrace.
“You can’t work like this,” he says, as he peacefully transfers Joon to his own arms. “He won’t wake up if I put him back, I promise.”
“Thanks,” you reply, taking note of his features now that he’s at a closer proximity to you for the first time. He has large round eyes, and long eyelashes that make even you jealous. His nose bridge is sharp and straight, and when he chuckles softly at Joon, you notice his skewed front teeth, ones that make his smile seem sweeter- softer.
As he begins out the doorway, you try to think of what to say to him, not wanting to have another awkward run-in with him like your last one. But nothing comes to mind that won’t be just as awkward as the encounter itself, and you settle on painful silence once again.
As you unlock your laptop, continuing on to your last assignment, you hear the faint noise of Mrs. Lee’s elder son putting Joon back to sleep.
Except he sounds different than he has during your two previous encounters. He’s laughing, babbling, even cooing at Joon as he puts him back to sleep. And though you really shouldn’t intrude, you make your way to the doorway again, where you peer down the hall to listen in on the endearing noises he makes.
“Are you sleepy?” He asks, his voice two octaves higher than usual. “Let’s sleep now, okay? No, you can’t have my shirt. That’s mine, remember? Let’s have good dreams now. I love you!”
You hear Joon giggling from the end of the corridor and you smile to yourself, wholly moved by the tender little moment he shares with his baby brother. He might not be his full-time caregiver, but he certainly knows what he’s doing. As you stay pondering his behavior for a moment, you don’t even notice when he exits the room again, turning to watch you standing around the doorway. Your ear is still leaned into the corridor, clearly having listened in on the private moment.
“Sorry,” you say quickly, straightening your posture, a wave of embarrassment quickly washing over you. “I was making sure Joon got to bed okay.”
He just nods once, looking you over briefly before meeting your gaze again.
“Minho,” he then practically mutters, averting your gaze as he waits for you to speak.
It’s his name, you realize, barely even having registered what he said to you. He’s telling you his name.
“Y/n,” you respond quickly, giving him a small bow and smiling nervously.
And Minho says nothing, pivoting on his heel to exit the corridor and disappear all over again.
*
For two weeks, your job runs smoothly, no glaring problems or hangups. Joon remains fond of you, obedient at mealtimes and when he’s put to bed. And the system of completing your college coursework goes smoothly, being able to get through several assignments a day while Joon takes his afternoon nap. If anything, you might be more productive than you were before this job, despite balancing it between university.
It’s an overcast Tuesday afternoon, and you’ve spent most of your day working in Joon’s nursery on the rocking chair next to his crib. He’s been a little fussy today, but you find that he calms down a little at the repetitive clicking noises of your laptop keyboard. Once you’ve confirmed he’s asleep, little snores emitting from his lips, you gather your belongings and sneak away to the library again. Only this time, it’s not vacant.
Minho sits in your usual spot today, his legs propped up on the footrest in front of him and a book in his lap. He doesn’t even notice you in the doorway, strands of hair hanging loosely in front of his face as he scans the page of his book. He also looks significantly more casual than other days you’ve seen him around, wearing a plain black t-shirt and gray sweats, a pair of round wireframe glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.
He feels your gaze on him, shuffling about suddenly and closing his book.
“Sorry,” Minho says. “I was just… reading.”
He realizes how awkward he sounds, verbally conveying his actions to you like this, but he’s too caught off guard to form a more coherent string of words.
“It’s okay,” you say politely, setting your bag down on the floor and occupying the chair across from him.
“What book?” You ask, cocking your head at the small red novel he clutches in his lap.
“Hm? Oh, uh… it’s Love and Limerence. By Dorothy Tennov.”
You nod in response, studying the cherub painted on the cover, wielding a bow and arrow.
“Big romance fan?”
“No,” Minho says, chuckling at your words. “It’s a required read for my class.”
“How neat,” you reply. “What class requires romance novels these days?”
“My philosophy course,” Minho says, running the pads of his fingers over the raised text on the cover. “The psychology of emotion.”
“PHIL 105,” you say, knowing very well the course he speaks of.
“Yeah- you’ve taken it?”
“No, but I had a friend who did in freshman year. I’m in my last semester now- my remaining classes are virtual, though.”
“It’s my last semester, too,” Minho says with a little smile, fiddling with the lobe of his ear as he talks.
“Well best of luck to you in the final stretch,” you reply, shooting him a small smile back. “I hope it all goes smoothly.”
Minho gives a half nod, and then furrows his eyebrows together, like he’s just remembered something.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” he says suddenly, sitting up and gathering his belongings.
“Oh, I really don’t mind-”
“Catch you later,” He interrupts with a nervous tone, almost jogging out of the library and back down the corridor.
And just like the first day you met him, you maintain the same idea of him- he’s such an enigma. Appearing in and out of the household, not one to voice his thoughts or his opinions, no eagerness to know the stranger sitting in his house watching over his baby brother. But somehow, like the rest of the household, you can’t help but have a lingering curiosity for Minho, too.
*
“My husband and I might be late getting back today,” Mrs. Lee says one morning as you feed Joon his breakfast. His tongue dodges the plastic spoon, dribbling mashed food out from the corners of his lips and laughing when you go to dab his face clean with a napkin.
“That’s alright,” you reply, loading up the spoon with more food. “I can wait until you’ve arrived.”
“You will?” Mrs. Lee asks, a kind of sparkle in her eyes as she speaks. “That would mean the world to us. It’s just that my husband has an auction to attend today. And sometimes these events run longer than they’re meant to.”
“No problem at all,” you say, smiling at her as you turn your attention back to Joon. “Joon and I will just hang out a little longer today. Isn’t that right?”
He babbles something in response, a string of saliva trailing from his lips, and Mrs. Lee laughs at the sight.
“He’s really taken a liking to you!”
As she fixes Joon’s hair, Minho enters the kitchen, dressed for the day with his backpack already slung over his shoulder.
“Minho,” his mother says in a scolding tone. “No gum for breakfast. Have a fruit.”
“Can’t,” he replies curtly. “My philosophy exam is today.”
“What does that have to do with depriving yourself of food?”
“It’s bad luck to eat before an exam,” Minho retorts, coming around the granite island to kiss her on the cheek. “Besides,” Minho continues. “I’m ditching my second class, so I’ll be home a little earlier.”
When he turns around, his gaze meets yours, and he instantly stiffens.
His gaze turns cold again, his hands shoving in his jacket pockets as he says nothing to you. He just bows, once, and then turns to exit like he’s suddenly in some rush.
“Bye,” he calls out, and you’re not even sure who he’s addressing it to at this point.
“I should get going, too,” Mrs. Lee says to you. “I’ll call you when we leave the event tonight. And please, feel free to make yourself comfortable after Joon gets put to bed. There’s cash on the table if you want to order something for dinner, and extra blankets are in the upstairs closet if you get sleepy.”
“Thank you,” you say to Mrs. Lee as she gathers her car keys and handbag. And the house is quiet again when you’re all alone, with the exception of Joon’s heavy breathing as he stares at you curiously.
“It’s like a mansion here,” you say to your best friend as you balance Joon in your arms and crane your neck on your shoulder to hold the phone against your ear. “Mrs. Lee is so nice. I thought she’d be stuck up or something, but she’s like a second mother.”
“You hit the jackpot,” your friend voices on the other end of the line. “Any idea how long they need you around?”
“Not sure,” you reply, wiping the granite counter with a rag as you finish up the dishes. “Probably until their son is done with the semester.”
“Son?” She says excitedly. “Is he cute?”
“Please,” you echo, rolling your eyes. “His looks mean nothing considering he doesn’t say a word.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. He just doesn’t talk. We go to the same university and it’s like pulling teeth trying to figure out something as simple as what his major is. I think he despises having me around.”
“I mean, to be fair, I wouldn’t love someone in my space 24/7. It’s probably a territorial thing.”
“He’s not a cat,” you respond, laughing lightly. “He’s a grown man. I just get the feeling he doesn’t like me.”
“Well I highly doubt that,” she says, and you can hear her shuffling about on her end of the line.
“Hey, I have to go,” she chimes in. “But I’ll talk to you later. Good luck with baby Joon and the cat man.”
“Thanks,” you reply, chuckling to yourself.
As you hang up the phone, you turn around to gather the last of the dishes, stopping in your tracks when you’re met with Minho himself.
He’s standing in the kitchen, popping a bubble of gum with his teeth, his gaze locked coldly on yours as he observes the place.
That’s right- he did say he would be home a bit earlier after his exam today. Was he standing there for the entirety of your conversation? You can’t recall how long the phone call lasted, or even the specifics of what you said. But you do know it certainly wasn’t good.
“Hi,” you say nervously, scanning his expression for a hint of what he’s thinking. But he provides you none, kicking off his boots and making his way up the stairs again.
The guilt is still eating away at you two hours later- Minho hasn’t descended the staircase once since the incident, and you can hardly focus on your school work at the thought of what he’s thinking of you.
Here you are, complaining about him seeming “cold” or “off”- the whole time you’re the one talking about him behind his back and stirring up drama. If he hated you before, he definitely despises you now. And if he's as close with his mother as he seemed this morning, you could be out of a job by tomorrow.
In reluctant steps, you ascend the wooden staircase, clutching a small mug of coffee and a stack of buttered toast. You remember Minho saying he’d have breakfast after his exam, a task he wasn’t able to complete due to your impolite conversation earlier. And while you’re not even sure he’s going to give you the time of day anymore, it’s worth a shot to try.
At the top of the staircase, you realize you’re unsure of which room even belongs to Minho. There are rows of doors down the corridor, which you peer into, looking for any sign of him.
A closet, another closet, the laundry room… it feels like a futile task at this point- not to mention, the sinking feeling that you’re intruding, poking into every room in the house like this.
But at the end of the hallway, just across the staircase from Joon’s room, lies one more closed door you haven’t tried yet, and you’re sure this one has to be his.
With a deep breath, you balance the mug of coffee on the plate you’re carrying, bringing your free hand up to knock, just once.
No answer.
You pause for a moment, debating whether to just leave and drop the idea of an apology altogether. But you don’t, instead forcing yourself to knock once more this time, a little harder than the first.
And after muffled sounds of shuffling about, the door finally opens again, Minho standing with a confused expression on his face. He has a pair of earphones in, one side pulled out to hear you, his glasses sat on his face and a number of textbooks on the bed behind him.
“Is Joon okay?” He asks, looking down the hall in panic as you meet his gaze.
“What? Oh! Yes, he’s fine. He’s sleeping.”
“Oh. What are you…”
“I… made you some breakfast. I know you didn’t have any before your exam this morning. And no, gum isn’t a breakfast food.” You chuckle lightly as you hold the items out to him, and Minho looks down at them, blinking a few times before speaking.
“Oh. Uh, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem. Should I leave them with you?”
“Oh, you can put them on the desk over there,” Minho replies, and it’s then that you notice his hands are full with papers. He steps aside to let you in, gesturing to the desk with a piece of paper, and you oblige, clearing the space of a few scattered items and setting down his breakfast.
When you turn around to look at the place, your lips part in awe at the sight of the grandiosity of it. Minho’s room has bigger windows than any of the others you’ve seen, concave around a crescent-shaped seating area that boasts tall ceilings and large glass windows. There are books lining the floors, the desk space and even the window sills, many of them left bookmarked or lying open where they sit.
His giant wooden bed frame is almost hidden behind a hanging curtain, and his desk is nearly inhabitable at the amount of university paraphernalia that lives on its surface.
“Wow,” you say, craning your neck to look around the room. “It’s really nice in here.”
“Thanks,” Minho says awkwardly, toying with a loose hem on his pants.
“You really like reading,” you comment, taking note of the books he has lying around. When you say this, Minho seems to stiffen a bit, shutting some of the books and lining them on their spines along his shelves.
“Yeah,” he mutters, dropping a few books and kicking them away from him.
You nod at him, pursing your lips, well aware that you’re in the midst of yet another awkward interaction with him, but wanting to fulfill the reason you came up here all the same.
“Listen,” you begin. “I wanted to apologize. I don’t know how much you heard of that, but I assume it was enough to be hurt by it. And you’re justified in being hurt. It was totally uncalled for of me to say those things- and sure, you might be a quiet person. But that doesn’t make it okay for me to go around airing it out like it’s my business. In fact I shouldn’t even be on my phone on the job. I’m here to watch your brother, and I get paid for that service, and it’s completely unprofessional-”
“It’s cool,” Minho says, an unchanging expression on his face.
“Oh, um… I mean, if you want to fire me I totally understand.”
Minho chuckles softly, and then shakes his head. “I’m not going to fire you. I am quiet. It’s cool. Really.”
“I mean, I totally get that-”
“Unless you want to be fired?” He inquires with a half-smile, and you chuckle softly in response.
“I really don’t. I love watching your brother.”
“Good,” he replies. “Then we’re all good.”
And although you want to say something else to him, you don’t, feeling as though you should be satisfied with the state of the conversation. You apologized, he forgave you, and you haven’t lost your job. And he’s still quiet, but that’s just who he is.
When Joon wakes from his afternoon nap, it’s nearly 3pm. He’s a crying mess when he’s up again, flailing his arms around to beg for a bottle, which you promptly prepare for him after a diaper change.
With Joon in your arms, you get some chores around the house finished, including vacuuming the rugs, dusting off the furniture and tidying Joon’s toys that are usually scattered about his nursery.
Doing chores wasn’t an agreement between you and Mrs. Lee- in fact, she usually urges you to focus on your schoolwork and take breaks when you’re not caring for Joon. But you want to, feeling compelled to take care of the space as much as you care for Joon. Although tensions are still somewhat present between you and Minho, the Lee household feels comfortable to you by this point, almost like a second home now.
After chores, the library calls out to you again, evening beginning to fall over the neighborhood and painting the sky with vibrant hues of an autumnal sunset.
The windows are still rolled open from earlier, and your velvet couch looks particularly inviting at this hour, beams of sunset setting it aglow and luring you to choose a book from the cherry wood shelves around you.
So you do, selecting a children’s book about animals, comfortably sprawling out on the chair with Joon in your arms. He eyes the book curiously, spreading his short, chubby fingers over the cover and tapping repeatedly, as if asking you to read to him.
And you do, setting the book on your knee to angle the pages toward him, as you begin to vocalize the choppy sentences to him.
“A is for apple, hanging from a tree,” you say, caressing his stubby fingers as he pouts in focus. “B is for buzzing bumblebee.”
Joon’s lips curl into a smile, making his best attempt to clap as you point out the colorful images to him.
“C is for crab, walking in the sand… D is for dolphin, swimming toward the land!”
Joon laughs hysterically now, clapping his little hands and rocking back and forth in your lap. You laugh, too, at his darling reaction, and give him a little kiss on the head as he fiddles with the cover of the book.
It’s moments like this that reaffirm the notion for you that this job was the right idea, after all. You’re inexplicably happy alongside him like this, seeing the world through his eyes and rediscovering things you would otherwise take for granted, like silly picture books or doing chores with him in your arms. You feel so protective of him, eager to make his mom proud and provide a safe, nurturing environment for him as his babysitter- not because you’re paid to do it, but because he now holds a special place in your heart.
The sound of someone clearing their throat startles you from the doorway, and you look up to find Minho standing there, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.
“Did you… want something to eat? I was going to order takeout, unless you wanted something else.”
“Sure,” you reply, propping Joon up a little closer to your chest. “Anything’s fine with me.”
“I’ll get Chinese, then,” Minho says nodding. He averts your gaze a little, but you can tell he’s just a little awkward when he’s face-to-face with you like this. And perhaps your best friend is right- perhaps it’s not unusual of him to feel territorial over his household. After all, you are here almost every hour of the day, making yourself comfortable in almost every room, tending to the chores here and eating food from their kitchen. You suppose you would be irritated at the thought of it, too.
As Minho leaves to place an order, you take Joon back to the nursery, where you gently put him to sleep for the evening and program his baby monitor to play calm ocean noises again. It’s like clockwork- he’s out like a light, and the minute he leaves your arms, you’re exhausted, too. The stress of watching over him while balancing your school work might finally be getting to you now- you’re undoubtedly tired, your limbs aching from sauntering about this big house all day with Joon in your arms. And although you’re on a good track, you can hardly remember which assignment pertains to each of your classes these days.
When Minho returns almost an hour later, he holds a thin plastic bag in hand, his other one clutching a fistful of cutlery and two plates. He gives you a small nod when he enters the library, and you put away your laptop to join him on the floor in front of the coffee table.
For a moment, he says nothing as he prepares a plate for you, sliding a cup of wonton soup toward you and dividing portions of chow mein and tofu with wooden chopsticks.
You watch as he breaks a spring roll in half, holding both sides up and comparing to make sure they’re even.
“You’re very precise,” you say with a soft laugh, and a breathy chuckle emits from his lips, too.
“I’m trying to make sure it’s even.”
“However you cut it is fine,” you respond, pleasantly surprised at how polite he is.
When he’s finished dividing your portions, he slides a plate to you, setting a plastic fork down on the napkin beside you and ushering to the food.
“Enjoy,” he says, shooting you a small smile.
And the two of you eat in silence, the room quiet, aside from the sounds of slurping soup present between you two. Although it’s quiet, it feels comfortable, having him keep you company like this. It’s a change of pace from your usual days babysitting in the Lee household.
“How is your school work?” Minho interrupts your thoughts, and you’re momentarily taken aback by him initiating the conversation first.
“It’s good,” you respond, poking at the vegetables on your plate with a chopstick. “It’s on my own time, so I mostly just have to make sure I’m staying on track. But I’m finding it easy to get through despite watching Joon in the daytime.”
Minho nods in response, keeping his gaze set on the bowl of soup in front of him.
“How did your exam go?” you ask, and Minho cocks his head a little. “I got full marks,” he responds after a moment of silence.
“That’s great! I guess you were right about skipping breakfast having something to do with your academic success, then.”
And Minho laughs for the first time- not a chuckle or a giggle, but a laugh, holding one hand up to his mouth as he does. His laugh is gentle and melodic, filling the room around him with its sound, and you can’t help but laugh, too.
“I suppose,” he responds. “I also go nowhere without those philosophy books, so I have them memorized like the back of my hand.”
“Philosophy major?” you voice back, and Minho nods.
“So Love and Limerence is like second nature to you at this point.”
Minho gets a little awkward at this, his smile fading a little as he pokes around his chow mein. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “You could say that.”
And fearing you’ve somehow offended him, you change the subject again.
“Well I’m a business major,” you chime in. “So we don’t get interesting reads at all. And I’m not lugging around a six-pound textbook about returns on investments in my backpack.”
He laughs again, and you feel satisfied at the motion. Making him laugh feels like an exciting feat, like you’ve succeeded at something after trying so hard to. And considering how hard you’ve been trying to break down his walls these days, maybe it is an exciting feat, getting to know the stranger you’ve been sharing a home with for one month now.
“Business is a great field,” Minho says, slurping down the remainder of his soup. “Your parents must be really proud of the direction you’re headed.”
You shrug in response. “They’re indifferent. I don’t have a great relationship with them. They mostly just want me out of their hair once I graduate.”
“You have any post-college plans?” Minho inquires.
“I finished an internship before this whole babysitting gig, actually. I want to travel a bit after graduation, and then I’ll really settle down for the whole 9-5 working life.”
“Where are you hoping to travel to?”
There’s a glint in Minho’s eyes as he presses you for answers, like he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. It makes you feel all warm inside- not many people usually care what you’re up to these days, your family trying their hardest to send you away to work another job and your most of your friends having drifted apart when you began university. Even the friends you do have are more distant these days, considering their classes are still in person, and you don’t have a need to be back on campus anymore. It’s a bit of a lonely life you lead, so being here beside Minho feels different, but pleasant.
“I’m not sure,” you say with a smile. “I’m not really sure where I belong yet.”
“Hey, I don’t know where I belong, either,” Minho echoes. “So that makes two of us.”
When the two of you are finished with dinner, Minho takes your plates downstairs, despite you offering, and you’re briefly left alone in the library. It’s much later than usual now, nearing 9:00, when you’re usually home by 7. The house also has a different vibe to it this hour, many of the rooms feeling much dimmer despite the same lamps being on, and the corridors feeling much quieter and more haunting. You feel a wave of sleepiness wash over you, and though you don’t want to be asleep when Mrs. Lee arrives, you can’t help but shut your eyes for a few minutes. You can still make out the shape of the bookshelves behind your heavy eyelashes, trying your best not to close your eyes completely, but your mind has already wandered off to slumber, and inevitably, your body follows shortly after.
You’re somewhere between sleep and consciousness when you feel Minho enter the room once again, looming over you like he wants to ask you something. But he says nothing- instead, he unfolds a knit blanket above you, sprawling it out over your legs and pulling it up to your torso. And you hadn’t realized how cold you were before he did, because you’re almost instantly with a wave of warmth and comfort over your listless body.
It feels almost uncharacteristic or Minho to carry out an action this polite- but as he takes his seat across from you, watching as you doze off peacefully, you think he may finally be coming around to you.
*
“I’m ditching my second class again today,” Minho announces the next morning at breakfast. He doesn’t eat much, you notice, as he bites into a single apple and hoists his backpack further up his shoulders.
“I’ll be home a bit earlier,” he then continues, eyeing you a little, and you give him a little nod.
“Then help with lunch,” Mrs. Lee says, gathering her own briefcase for work. “Y/n shouldn’t do it all by herself when you’re here.”
“Oh, it’s no worry at all,” you quickly chime in, not wanting to be the reason Minho refutes his mother’s words. “It’s what I’m here to do, after all.”
“No worries,” Minho says back to you. “I’ll be home around noon and we can prepare something together.”
For some reason, your heart flutters a little at the implication of doing something alongside Minho- something so planned and seemingly intimate. You normally just take the days as they come, so having a commitment hanging over your head like this is a little nerve-racking. And in all your worrying, you don’t respond to Minho, realizing only as he’s exiting the house with his apple in hand.
“I might be late again today,” Mrs. Lee turns to you, snapping you out of your trance. “But Minho can stay for the remainder of the time. I’ll still pay you the full amount like I did yesterday-”
“I’m happy to stay again,” you reply to her. “Like I said, it’s what I’m here to do.”
She smiles in return, clasping her hands and gesturing to the food on the table.
“I can’t get Minho to eat for the life of me, but help yourself to whatever you’d like. And thank you again, for staying.”
You’re reading to Joon in the living room when Minho arrives home from school. He kicks off his shoes dramatically, tossing his bag on the floor and breathing out a heavy sigh while you thumb through the pages of a new picture book.
“Hi,” Minho says first, his expression remaining stoic and unchanging.
“Hey,” you reply, hoisting Joon a little further up in your arms. “How was school?”
“Terrible,” he responds, making his way around the granite island to collect another apple.
“Why’s that?”
“Professor Kim,” he says curtly, polishing the apple on his button down shirt before taking a generous bite. “A three hour lecture on a Friday really wasn’t a smart choice. ”
You chuckle a little to yourself, adjusting your position on the floor and trying to balance Joon in your embrace. Minho takes notice of your struggle, abandoning his apple on the counter to come take Joon from your arms.
“Thanks,” you say, dusting off your legs as you stand again. “I’m going to get started on something for Joon to eat if you want to wait around. Unless you’re sticking to this exclusively-apple diet.”
Minho chuckles to himself and shakes his head. “I’ll help. We don’t have much prepared right now and I really need to go grocery shopping.” He secures Joon in his high chair, cocking his head toward the fridge.
“Could you just grab his orange juice? It should be the blue bottle on the right.”
And you comply with his request, promptly locating the blue sippy cup and handing it to Minho.
“Thank you,” he says, setting it down on the white tray in front of Joon and twisting it open. “This should be enough to hold him off until we can whip something up with the few ingredients we have. I want to do something with those sweet potatoes, they’re reaching the end of their time.”
Joon is a little fussy as he reaches for his sippy cup, flailing his arms around and sliding the cup across the tray to the edge. The cap seems to loosen as he does, tilting dangerously to one side.
“I got it,” you say to Minho, as you approach Joon. You retrieve the cup from the edge of the tray, twisting off the cap again to secure it properly. And as you do, Joon lets out a particularly loud yelp, knocking his hand toward you and letting the bottle fall off the tray entirely.
As you realize what’s happening, you bring two hands up to push it away from you, but you’re too late- the entirety of the bottle’s contents are spilt onto your shirt, completely soaking you and dripping onto the floor with loud, wet noises.
Minho doesn’t see what happened, but he turns around at the sound of your loud gasp, his eyes widening at the sight of you. Even your hair’s gotten wet, stringy pieces falling into your face, damp with the tangy scent of orange juice and dripping down your shirt. His mind races with guilty thoughts, feeling as though he should have stayed watching Joon, being the one to have been caught in the crossfire of his tantrum instead. Joon’s always fussy before meals- he knows this very well. As his mind races with the urgency to grab a towel, a rag- something, his eyes graze to your t-shirt, and he practically freezes.
Your thin white t-shirt is soaked like the rest of you, painting a clear outline of your black bra as the cold contents drip down your chest and torso. The see-through fabric sticks to your body like a cellophane wrapping, outlining every inch of you, every curve and every raised goosebump as you shudder at the sensation. Minho’s eyes remain locked on your dampened breasts for an embarrassing amount of time, taking careful note of the way your hardened nipples practically protrude through the thin white fabric, almost appearing increasingly noticeable with every passing second. The delicate curves of your stomach are accentuated with your skin-tight shirt, even your navel now visible.
A shake of your hands finally snaps him out of his trance, and you wrap your arms around yourself in a futile effort to cover yourself.
“I’m sorry,” you utter to him, at a loss for words at the notion of being so exposed to him. And Minho is quick to shake his head, now scrambling for a towel.
“Don’t apologize,” he says, pulling a towel off the oven handle and sliding it to you. “Here, use this and I’ll go get a larger towel from upstairs and a change of clothes.”
You want to deny the offer, feeling shameful for having already intruded this much on the Lee household and still needing more from them. But as you look down at your t-shirt, you know you don’t have a choice, the fabric now feeling cold and uncomfortable as it sticks to your flesh.
“Thanks,” you say to him, giving a small nod and not moving your hands from your chest.
And Minho retreats upstairs quickly, trying his best to avert his gaze as you remain in the kitchen.
As Joon babbles incoherently next to you, you can’t help but feel stupid, a sense of shame and embarrassment replacing the excitement you had to be preparing lunch alongside Minho for the afternoon. You’re in disbelief he’s practically seen you half naked like this, and you feel inadequate at not being able to stop Joon from committing the incident in the first place. As you run your hands up and down the raised goosebumps on your arms, you do your best to hold back tears, hoping Minho won’t think less of you for being caught in such a humiliating accident.
Minho is gone for a little while, and you blot at the wet patches on your shirt as you wait, Joon now laughing at your messy state. You can’t help but laugh a little, too, admittedly amused at what a disaster the afternoon has been- and you haven’t even begun the cooking part of it yet.
When he returns, he tosses you a large white bath towel and a gray t-shirt, still keeping his gaze on the floor instead of on yours.
“Here,” he says simply, his veiny arm scratching the back of his head. “I can also get a sweater if you’re cold.”
As you observe the t-shirt, you realize it’s one of his, not one of Mrs. Lee’s. For some reason, you’d assumed Minho would opt for a woman’s clothes as your change, but the t-shirt has clearly been pulled from his closet, and you blush a little at the idea of wearing his clothes.
“This is fine,” you reply, wrapping the bath towel around your body and excusing yourself to the bathroom.
You peel the sticky clothes off your body, crumpling them into a pile and changing into Minho’s t-shirt. It’s a bit large on you, but it’s much more comfortable, hanging loosely off your body and covering every bit of you that was previously exposed. His shirt smells like him, too, a pleasant scent of laundry detergent and his musky cologne.
When you exit the bathroom, you gesture to the change of clothes, your wet crumpled clothes balled in your hand. “I kinda look like you now,” you say, and Minho chuckles.
“You can keep it,” he responds, giving you another once-over and nodding shyly. “It looks better on you, anyway.”
He holds his hand out to you for the wet clothes, which he kindly takes from you to put in the wash. As he does, you go to the fridge to retrieve more orange juice for Joon- except there is none. You desperately search for milk, orange juice- any form of a snack that will keep him busy until his mealtime. But the kitchen is void of anything he can consume, and you begin to panic a little, knowing Joon hasn’t eaten in a good while now.
“That was the last of his orange juice,” you say to Minho when he returns. “And there’s not much else for him to snack on.”
Minho searches the kitchen too, digging through cabinets and moving around jars in the fridge to check for expiration dates. But he quickly realizes you’re right- the fridge is even more sparse than he’d assumed it to be.
“I guess we’ll have to make a trip to the store, then. How do you feel about strapping him into a car seat?”
“I’ve never done it,” you reply nervously.
“I can show you,” Minho says, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter and spinning them around his index finger. “We can do it together.”
*
The nearest grocery store is just 20 minutes out from the Lee household. Minho drives a fancy black SUV, and he guides you through how to strap Joon into his car seat, which you carry out with no issues. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on the center console as you chat with him about your university courses. For the first time, you notice how Minho seems much more comfortable around you now, cracking jokes occasionally and smiling at your stories about your afternoons alone with Joon. When Joon chimes in from the back seat with his excited babbling, you and Minho babble equally in response, sharing laughter at the ridiculous exchanges among the three of you.
You opt to carry Joon inside the grocery store while Minho walks alongside you, checking off a list he routinely uses to stock up on all of Joon’s favorite foods. And the atmosphere around you is homely, instilling the same sense of comfort in you as your afternoons alone with Joon. One that reminds you why you’re doing this job in the first place- you feel respected here, like your efforts don’t go unnoticed, and like you belong. It fills the lonely void inside of you with the sounds of Joon’s laughter, Minho’s tales of his classes and the trivial tasks of grocery store runs and learning to maneuver a baby car seat.
“I think that’s it,” Minho says as he checks the list one last time. “Milk, juice, bread…” he reads the items one by one again, and then nods affirmatively when he’s ensured they’re in the basket.
“That’s it,” he repeats, shooting you a small smile. “Let’s go pay.”
An older cashier gestures you to her lane at the registers, beginning to scan your items as Minho places them down on the conveyor belt. And then she gives a little wave to Joon, who curiously stares back at her.
“What a beautiful baby,” she says, pausing from scanning with a jar of mashed carrots in her hand.
Joon smiles in response, a trickle of drool escaping his lips.
“And what a beautiful family,” she continues, looking back and forth between you and Minho. “It’s not easy being young parents, but I can tell the two of you are doing a fine job at it.”
“Oh,” you say, chuckling lightly. “We’re not-”
“Thank you,” Minho interrupts, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you a little closer to him.
“We don’t get told that very often.”
You almost freeze at the contact, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he keeps his hand on the small of your back. This woman thinks the two of you are a couple- and worse, Minho is playing along with it. You can’t figure out why he’d entertain such a blatant lie, but you don’t interrupt him either, curious to see where he’s taking this little bit.
“People can be so unfair,” the cashier replies, shaking her head. “As long as the child is cared for, your status shouldn’t matter.”
“Exactly,” Minho replies, throwing his hand in the air like she’s making a point that pertains to him. “You know, when we got married, everyone told us it would never work. And now look at us- our child just turned 1 and we’re already making plans for a second honeymoon.”
“That’s amazing!” The woman says, clasping her hand over her heart like she’s touched by the bogus story.
“It is, isn’t it honey?” Minho says, turning to you.
Thoughts swirl your mind about this performance he’s putting on, but you’re undoubtedly entertained by the whole thing, stifling laughter as you nod in response.
“It is amazing,” you say finally. “We eloped and had a shotgun wedding- booked it to Italy right after and now we’re thinking of taking the little one to Paris for a real ceremony.”
The older woman removes her glasses now, wiping her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief. You can’t help but feel bad for her, seeing how easily she’s falling for your blatant lies, but Minho shows no remorse, grinning ear to ear and keeping his hand on the small of your back.
“Well I’ll tell you what,” the woman says, putting her glasses back on and shifting her eyes around the store.
“Since you guys just made my day, I’m going to provide you with our senior discount. It’s not everyday I see a young couple so beautiful raising such a darling little child.”
“Oh, you really don’t-” you start to say, and Minho interrupts you before you can finish.
“That would mean the world to us,” he says in an exaggerated voice, giving the cashier a little bow. “It would help us out a ton.”
You want to protest, to slap Minho in his pretty little face and ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing lying for a discount like this, but you’re afraid the cashier will see right through your whole stunt and reprimand both of you. So you just nod and let Minho take the lead again.
“Thank you,” you echo back to her,” holding Joon’s stubby little fingers as the woman types a lengthy code into the computer.
And Minho smiles at you, shooting you a little wink as he gathers boxes of cereal and jars of food in his arms.
“What was that?” You practically yell as you exit the store, balancing Joon in one arm and a bag of groceries in another. “You totally lied to her.”
“I didn’t lie,” Minho says. “I told her a different reality.”
“That is literally what a lie is,” you echo back to him, securing Joon in his car seat and lining grocery bags on the floor. Minho slides into the driver's seat again, putting his keys in the ignition but not yet starting the car as he waits for you to get in, too.
“I mean, that was like a 10% discount,” you continue, huffing frustratedly as you wait for him to speak. “How is that worth telling someone a whole list of lies?”
“You know, there’s this really cool theory called the anthropic principle,” Minho begins, looking straight ahead through the windshield. “Suggests the existence of a multitude of universes.”
“What?”
“So,” he continues. “Philosophically speaking, maybe in one of those we're married, and we have a child, and our honeymoon was in Italy.”
You stay quiet for a moment, pondering his words, completely unsure of if he’s flirting with you or teasing you right now.
“And maybe,” he chimes in again. “In one of them, we robbed the store and killed the cashier. And in another, we don’t even know each other.”
“What are you getting at?” You say, narrowing your eyes in confusion.
“It’s not lying,” Minho says with a smile as he finally starts up the car. “We just told her about a different reality.”
“So it’s lying,” you say with a smile, unable to hold back the giggle that escapes your lips.
“A little,” he finally says. “But it was fun, right?”
And you start to say no, but you can’t get the words out, aware you’ll be lying twice today if you do.
Minho takes your silence as confirmation, a grin plastered on his face as he rests one arm behind your headrest to pull out of the parking lot. And you can’t help but smile, too, the spontaneous thrill of lying to the cashier admittedly being some of the most fun you’ve had all week. And the conclusion stands- Minho’s a little odd. But he’s great company.
*
Mrs. Lee is late again tonight, the second hand on the clock ticking in slow intervals as it nears 10pm. You yawn for the umpteenth time tonight, exhausted from having done so much today, wanting nothing more than to sleep in the comfort of your own bed at home and mentally recharge for another day of this tomorrow. But you’ve promised to wait for her, always eager to wait it out until the last second, because Mrs. Lee always expresses her sincerest gratitude when you wait for her.
“Sorry, she’s really late today,” Minho says as he lowers the volume on the television. You completed a few more chores around the house after dinner while Minho powered through his schoolwork, putting Joon to bed before settling on the sofa and watching old cartoon reruns. Now you’ve been in and out of sleep for the better part of an hour, Minho remaining close by watching infomercials again, peering at your tired figure and feeling guilty that you’ve been here so long.
“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, letting out another yawn. You cross your arms over yourself, still dressed comfortably in Minho’s t-shirt, and do your best to keep your gaze on the television.
Tonight Minho is stuck on an infomercial for artificial plants, the dull narration lulling you to sleep even further as he checks the time on his watch and glances nervously at the front door.
Minho cranes his neck at your figure again, not missing the way gray bags hang heavy below your eyes, your lashes half-lidded as you feign sleep and force your gaze onto the infomercial.
“Don’t you have an early exam tomorrow?” You say to Minho, another yawn escaping your lips as you speak. “Don’t wait up on my account. You should get some sleep.”
Minho shuts off the television, standing up from where he’s sitting and dusting off his pants.
“I’ll take you home,” he announces, fishing around on the table for his car keys.
“It’s okay,” you reply, not wanting to inconvenience him anymore than you already have today. “I can walk to the bus stop.”
“You’re not walking,” Minho retorts, scoffing as you sit up and rub your tired eyes with the back of your hand. “It’s pitch black outside.”
“It’s fine,” you say, gathering your book bag and rushing to put your shoes on. It’s a race between the two of you now, Minho scrambling to locate his car keys while you get ready to leave for the evening.
“It’s really not a problem- where are my keys?” Minho mutters to himself, patting the pockets on his jacket and rearranging stacks of papers on the coffee table.
“I’m fine, really.”
“No, I’ll drive you,” Minho says, still tossing aside the mess he’s made to locate his keys.
“I’ll walk,” you reiterate again, and Minho finally exhales frustratedly.
“Then I’ll walk with you,” he finally announces, ditching the car keys altogether and stopping to look at you. He looks tired, too, evident bags under his eyes and his hair tousled from running his hands through it frustratedly.
“Minho, I really don’t want to burden you-”
“It’s not a burden.”
As he speaks, you hear Joon’s baby monitor alerting you that he’s awake for the evening, wailing loudly when he realizes that he’s alone. It’s perfect timing, too, Minho already having planned to wake him up so he can walk you back.
“Wait here,” Minho says to you as he begins toward the stairs. “I’ll get his harness.”
The dim street lights illuminate the dark paved roads, a crisp chill in the air as you walk alongside Minho with your hands in your pockets.
Joon sits comfortably in his harness against Minho’s chest, curiously taking in the atmosphere around him as you walk in silence to your bus stop. It’s not a long walk, only 20 minutes from Minho’s, but you feel admittedly much safer with Minho by your side, his and Joon’s presence feeling homely even at this hour. For nearly the entirety of the walk, the two of you say nothing, too tired to engage in conversation, but still comfortable in the presence of each other, and not needing to say anything. Joon babbles saliva every now and then, Minho bringing a finger up to wipe his chin, and the only other sounds are that of crickets and the gentle sway of the trees.
“This is me,” you say to Minho when you reach the familiar blue bench of your stop.
You sit on one side of the bench, slinging your book bag over beside you and crossing your legs. And to your surprise, Minho occupies the other side, one hand resting gently on the back of Joon’s head while the other pats his back gently.
“You don’t have to wait,” you tell Minho quickly, and he just shakes his head silently in response.
The silence between you remains, Joon toying with the collar of Minho’s shirt as you wait for the bus. There’s so much you want to ask Minho, so much you still want to find out from him. You’re well aware that you haven’t quite figured him out yet, but you’re undoubtedly sure that he is a nice guy, after all. From lending you his t-shirt, waiting up for you on late nights, even walking you to your bus stop and waiting for the bus with you. You think briefly back to his little joke at the grocery store, smiling to yourself when you remember he’d chosen to pretend you were a married couple for no other reason than to make you laugh after having had such a rough day. And his innate fascination with looking at everything through a philosophical lens, the passion for his favorite subject so robustly present wherever he goes.
“What’s that theory again?” You ask Minho as your thoughts verbalize amidst the silence.
“Hm?”
“The one about the universe.”
“The anthropic principle?” He questions, and you hum in response.
“Yeah, that one. Do you think there are like, a million versions of us right now, just…sitting here?”
“Sure,” Minho replies. “But the conditions would have to be just right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the theory states that conditions have to be just right for us to coexist in the universe we’re in right now. It’s sort of like a coincidence that this one evolved so that we could thrive in it. So there might be other versions of us, just not as definitive. We might be rocks, or bugs. Or maybe there’s a more advanced version, where we’re still on our honeymoon in Italy.”
“Or the one where we killed that cashier,” you chime in.
“Exactly,” Minho replies, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You ponder his words for a moment.
“Do they all follow the same timeline?” You ask him.
“What do you mean?”
“Do they all last forever? What if we got divorced? Would we part ways in every universe?”
Minho stays quiet for a moment, thinking back to the philosophical theories tucked in the back of his mind.
“I don’t know,” he finally replies. “I’d like to think some versions have a happy ending, but maybe some of them don’t.”
As silence falls over you again, your bus finally turns the corner, making its way down the street toward your stop.
“That’s me,” you say, getting up and gathering your belongings again.
Minho stands up, too, saying nothing as the bus finally halts in front of you, the brakes screeching to a stop with the loud exhaust of the doors as they open.
“Thanks,” you say to Minho before getting on. “For walking me.”
“It’s no problem,” he replies, shooting you a tired smile.
Minho watches as you board the bus, taking your seat toward the back. He scans the aisles momentarily, making sure you’re sat somewhere safe, away from anyone he might deem sketchy at this hour. And when he feels confident you’ll make it home okay, he brings Joon’s hand up in front of him, giving you a little wave as he watches you smile back through the tinted windows, sending him off with a wave back.
*
From then on, things shift between the two of you. Minho is a constant, always offering to walk you home on late nights to engage in discussions about your university work or his favorite theories. When he’s home early from his classes, the two of you enjoy cooking for Joon together, making trips to the grocery store where the cashiers are now fully convinced you’re a married couple. On late nights, the two of you often engage in lighthearted philosophical debates while you wait for Mrs. Lee to get home for the evening. When he’s walking you home for the night, doing homework alongside you or just passing by, Minho indulges you in all his favorite philosophical questions, and you entertain them, using the opportunity to get a better glimpse into his mind and how he thinks.
It’s exactly this that tears down Minho’s walls, you find- he, in all his philosophically-educated glory, sharing his perspective while you poke holes in his arguments and reach a conclusion together. Sometimes you’ll reach a stalemate, the argument fizzling out with no clear answer. And sometimes he can change your mind almost instantly, the arguments leaving his lips like second nature, always quick to persuade you in the opposite direction and provide clear reasoning. He’s very skilled at his work, and you quickly realize why he’s so passionate about philosophy in the first place.
It’s not something Minho’s used to yet- having a companion like this, one who actually cares about anything he has to say. Someone to come home to, somebody to bask in the simplicities of life with and affirm that he’s not completely incapable of making real human connections. And admittedly, maybe he loves playing house with you, coming home to your home-cooked meals and caring for the baby together.
Maybe this version of the universe deems you a babysitter, and he, just an outcast. But sometimes Minho swears he can see different versions where you’re so much more than that to each other.
In late November, you take your first week off, leaving on a small family trip to a city just a few hours out to go see extended family.
You tell Minho of your little excursion the week prior, and he pretends to be disheartened, but you know deep down he must be relieved to have some space to himself again. Of course you’re not able to watch Joon, and Mrs. Lee has a friend watch him in your absence, but you’re surprised at how much you miss the Lee household when you’re not there. The trip to the city is filled with repetitive questions from family about your major, your internship, your potential salary in an entry-level position and general university questions. And yet all you catch yourself thinking about is Joon, and Mrs. Lee and especially Minho.
You wonder what he’s doing in the comfort of his grand room all by himself, surrounded by books and tall windows. Minho once told you that he can go a whole day without talking when he’s not having philosophical debates with you over coffee. You wonder if he’s talked today, or if he attended his classes or how his exam on Tuesday went. Thoughts of him plague your mind every waking second- whether Minho would like a certain food, if Minho would agree with this statement, even what the people around you would think if you dragged him along and played house with him like you do back home. In this version of the universe, maybe he’s reading a book or watching a movie, but in another, he could be right here, telling his string of lies to your extended family.
On the last day of your family vacation, you find yourself in an old bookstore, and all you can think about is Minho. He’d love it here, you think, grazing your fingertips along the old cracked spines and yellowing pages. And as you scan through the philosophy section, several of the books already piquing your interest, you spot it.
The small familiar crimson book, just barely larger than your hand, delicate to the touch and painted with the same Cupid depiction as the one you know so well. A first edition copy of Dorothy Tennov’s Love and Limerence. You can’t help but smile to yourself, scanning the book’s contents briefly before closing it again and bringing it up to the counter. It’s not like you’re trying to worsen this little developing crush you have on Minho, but he seems to be everywhere you go- and candidly, you just want to have him figured out.
*
When you return to the Lee household from your vacation, the atmosphere is calm, sunbeams shining through the large glass windows and illuminating the house with a romantic glow. Joon eats his breakfast well, downing his orange juice and causing you little trouble throughout the day. And Minho arrives just after 3, his backpack slung over his shoulder and a book in hand.
Your heart beats erratically to see him again, trying your best to avert his gaze as he enters through the front door and kicks off his shoes. When he makes his way through the kitchen, you attempt to look busy, wiping down the counters with a kitchen rag and balancing Joon in your arms.
“Hi,” Minho says, a little shyly as you keep your eyesight on the granite counter below you.
“Hey,” you respond, pretending like you hadn’t noticed him enter the room, when in reality, you’ve been well aware of his arrival since he parked his car out front.
“How was your trip?” Minho asks, setting down his backpack and loosening the collar of his sweater.
He’s dressed for the chilly weather outside, a simple black knit sweater paired with blue jeans.
“It was good,” you reply, folding the rag with one hand and setting it aside. “I kinda missed it here.”
Minho smiles at you nervously, toying with the hem of his sweater as he hears you speak.
“It was pretty quiet without you here. I think Joon missed you.”
“Did he?” You question excitedly, poking at Joon with your finger and cooing at him. “Is that right? You missed me?” And Joon giggles excitedly, smiling between the two of you.
When the room falls quiet again, Minho clears his throat like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, instead keeping his gaze fixed on yours. The room is teeming with awkward tension between the two of you, two hearts clouded in desire to act on this conflicting emotion of fleeting lust and a mutual understanding of each other, but neither one of you say anything, letting it die with your silence and circle your minds aimlessly again.
“I got you something,” you say suddenly, and Minho’s heart quickens a little.
“Me?” He questions, pointing to himself as if you need clarity of who he speaks of.
“Yes, you. It’s in my bag upstairs.”
And you begin your ascent to the staircase, motioning for Minho to follow you as you bring Joon with you.
“Close your eyes,” you tell Minho when you‘ve entered the library again.
“Should I be scared?” He asks, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.
“Close them!” You exclaim, and he finally puts his hands out in front of him, shutting his eyes, a big grin plastered on his face. You place the book in Minho’s palms gently, making sure to position it so that the cover is facing him properly.
“Now open.”
When Minho opens his eyes again, he doesn’t even need to read the words before knowing what it is. He’s immediately familiar with the first edition of Dorothy Tennov’s Love and Limerence he holds in his hands, uniquely characterized by the contrasting art style to his, and the much older, yellowing pages.
“My book,” Minho says, biting his lip as he holds back a bigger smile, one that will most definitely point to the incriminating fact that he’s smitten.
“Your book,” you echo, leaning on the wall across from him. “It’s a first edition. The bookkeeper said they’re pretty rare to come by.”
“You didn’t have to-”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, fixing Joon’s hair and averting Minho’s gaze. You’re afraid if you make eye contact with him, this whole nonchalant front will crumble down in front of you, because you’re embarrassingly smitten with him, too.
“Thank you,” Minho says, thumbing the raised gold-foiled cover outline of Cupid. “I’ll go put it with the rest of them.”
And he disappears down the corridor, his book tucked in the endeared clutch of his hands.
While Minho adds his book to the rest of his collection, you put Joon down for his nap, gently placing him on the soft blanket in his crib and adjusting the baby monitor. He blinks up at you a few times, his lips pulling into a shaky smile as his lashes finally flutter shut and a wave of sleepiness washes over him. You exit the room quietly, closing the door just halfway like you always do, and then make your way down the corridor to Minho’s room. The door is left ajar, but you hear him shuffling about, and you enter after giving a gentle knock.
Minho seems startled at this, jumping up from where he’s standing, in front of his bookshelf with Love and Limerence held open in the palms of his hands. He shuts it quickly, shoving it on the top with another stack of books, and then almost shields his bookshelf as he turns to face you.
“I didn't hear you come in,” he says, nervously shifting his eyes to more stacks of books on his window sill and nightstand.
“I put Joon down for his nap,” you reply, cocking an eyebrow as he stands there awkwardly. “Is… everything okay?”
“Yes,” he says quickly, blinking nervously when he sees you peer over his torso at the bookshelf.
“Where’d you put it?”
“Can’t remember,” Minho says, a breathy chuckle emitting from his lips as he tries his best to avoid talking about it. But you catch on- and you’re certainly not going to let him evade the subject.
“What are you hiding?” You finally ask, eyeing him with a small smile. Minho’s face drops a little, sighing once as he steps aside and grants you full visibility of his bookshelf. There’s nothing out of the ordinary- books of all colors and sizes lined neatly on the shelves, some of them left open or bookmarked. A good amount of them appear to be philosophy books, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you.
“It’s just your books,” you say flatly, and Minho scratches the back of his head before he speaks again.
“Love and Limerence isn’t a required read for university.” He says in a low voice.
“Oh,” you reply, unsure of why it should really matter to you.
“None of them are,” he continues. “It’s just my personal… collection. Of romance novels.”
And then you finally understand.
Minho- the stoic, otherwise quiet being, in all his philosophical studiousness and awkwardness, is a sucker for romance. Once the cogs begin turning in your head, they don’t stop, everything about him now making a little more sense to you. Why he stays locked up in his little tower all day reading book after book, why he’s so hopeful when he speaks of the human condition and of love, why he loves taking care of people so much. He’s just a big softie underneath it all.
“There’s nothing weird about that,” you chime in. “In fact, it’s really cool.”
“Yeah right,” he retorts.
“I’m dead serious. I’ve never met someone with so many copies of Thorns and Roses before.”
Minho shakes his head, moving to sit on his bed with his palms tucked under his legs. His gaze remains locked on the floor, an expression of shame still visible on his face. And when you see him exhale deeply, like he’s been nervously holding his breath all this time, you feel bad for him. If there’s anything you’ve learned about him since meeting him, it’s that he’s really a bit of a dork. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him look so vulnerable before.
“Which one’s your favorite?” You ask, skimming your finger along the neat row of spines.
He shrugs. “Pride and Prejudice, maybe. But these days it’s Love and Limerence.”
Minho’s voice is trembling, just above a whisper as he reads off his list of favorite novels to you. And you chuckle softly in reply, pulling the little red book out of its respective home on the shelf and tossing it to him.
“Read me your favorite passage.”
He furrows his brows a little, like he thinks you might be making fun of him. But when you take a seat next to him on the bed, wide-eyed and gesturing to the book in his hands, he realizes you’re genuinely asking him to.
“Go on,” you say, gesturing to the book once more.
Minho opens the book to the middle, flipping through yellowing pages with small font. Most of the pages are littered generously with blue sticky notes, Minho’s messy handwriting annotating all his favorite passages. When he finds the page he’s searching for, he eyes you cautiously, as if waiting for permission to begin reading. And with a deep breath, he begins, his voice shaking a little as he finds his footing.
“Now by these presents let me assure you that you are not only in my heart, but my veins, this morning. I turn from you half abashed--yet you haunt me, and some look, word or touch thrills through my whole frame--yes, at the very moment when I am labouring to think of something, if not somebody else.”
At the last words, his gaze meets yours again, eyelashes trembling as he waits for your reaction. He waits for you to laugh, or to dismiss the words, or leave altogether. But you just stare back at him, your heart beating erratically at the poetry he utters, completely in awe with him.
He feels otherworldly at this distance, this intricate fascination with love and human connection. The way his brown tresses fall loosely in front of his big eyes as he speaks, his plump lips pulling into a nervous smile to reveal the row of skewed teeth you find a home in every time. He’s like the passage reads- thrilling your whole frame, consuming you whole and filling your mind with thoughts of him, and his poetry and his kind demeanor. You find yourself a little closer to him, your eyes darting to his lips and then back to his curious eyes, fantasies of him running rampant in your mind.
And Minho keeps his gaze locked on yours, too, leaning in a little closer to you, the book closing on its own as his hand slips away from holding it open and onto the bed beside you. The implications are there, the atmosphere around you heavy with desire and uncertainty, and just as you wield the courage to bring your lips a little closer to his, you’re promptly interrupted.
“Minho-ah!” A voice calls from downstairs. You quickly clock it as Mrs. Lee’s, who must be home early from work.
“I’m home early!” She calls again, confirming your theory, her footsteps getting louder as she makes her way up the stairs.
You sit up promptly, smoothing down your shirt and standing to bow when Mrs. Lee pokes her head in the doorway. Minho stands up too, making the whole situation look unbearably obvious, and you pray she can’t tell what’s going on between the two of you.
“Y/n,” she says with a warm smile. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you I would be home a little earlier today. Joon has a doctor’s appointment.”
“No worries at all!” You voice back, bowing again as she smiles. “I was actually going to leave early today. I have a bit of a headache.”
“Oh, do you want a cup of tea?” She asks, heavy concern present in her voice.
“No thanks, I think I just need some sleep.”
You turn to Minho, who’s standing with his hands in his pockets, looking a little disappointed as you give him a small bow.
“Take care,” you say to him, pivoting to head back to the library and gather your things.
Minho hears his mom see you out of the front door, chatting briefly with you about your trip and sending you off with a little wave.
He shuts his bedroom door and locks it, sprawling out on the duvet of his bed and running his hands over the book still beside him.
He’s not sure what happened- whether you were about to kiss him, or whether it was just wishful thinking. But every way he interprets the encounter, Minho swears he can feel your yearning for him, too. Is he crazy to think you might feel the same? Maybe he, too, finds it laboring to think of something- if not, someone else, besides you.
*
Joon is a particularly picky eater in afternoons, making a big fuss of foods he usually devours in the mornings and evenings. He skillfully dodges every spoon, every bite and feigns his interest in even his favorite snacks and desserts. And while you’re usually patient with him, today you’re frustrated, having mentally scolded yourself several times since yesterday’s events.
A part of you wants to ditch all of this, reminding yourself that you’re here to work a job, not lust after the son of the person who hired you. But the other part of you can’t help but imagine how things would be different if you just let yourself fall gracefully into him- he’s so much more than a fleeting thought to you. You want to understand him, having challenged yourself to figuring him out from the moment you came across him. But maybe you want him to understand you, too. You want him to understand that you feel at home whenever he’s around, his philosophical discussions and this game of house you play making you feel like you belong here. You want him to understand that although you know he feels like an outcast, none of his odd quirks matter to you when he’s reading his favorite love stories across from you in the library, catching glimpses of you when he thinks you’re not looking. And that maybe this universe conditioned itself just right so that you took up this job and crossed paths- and that has to mean something bigger.
There’s nothing different about the afternoon following yesterday’s, except for you spending a considerable amount of time on your hair and makeup, the anticipation bubbling inside you at the idea of seeing Minho again. You have no definitive plan, no script of how it’s going to go when he arrives from school. But you also know there’s something in your throat that wants so desperately to get out, and you won’t let it. As Joon toys with the cereal in his bowl, he looks up at you with big, curious eyes, and you wonder what he’s thinking, if anything. He doesn't know anything beyond the simple tasks of eating and sleeping, living with the comfortable knowledge that he’s being cared for. And although it seems much easier, you can’t help but sympathize. What a gift it is to feel- what a gift it is to carry emotions so deeply they eat away at you like this.
You’re infatuated with Minho- that fact stands true. And whether or not it benefits you to do anything about it, you’re determined to do something with all of this feeling, lest it slips through your fingers like he almost did.
You don’t hear Minho come home when he does, busy in the garden tending to Mrs. Lee’s plants when the usual alert of his car pulling into the driveway passes you by. So when he wanders the corridors searching everywhere for you, you don’t take notice.
Minho’s desperate, hoping to ask you to stay just a little bit longer tonight, having also had the epiphany that he’s completely fallen for you, too. And what he hopes to do with it, he’s unsure- but he does know that every romance novel on his shelf would refute the idea of letting this feeling dissipate. Kiss her, tell her, do something. Anything.
He strides down the halls with purpose and vigor, a nervous smile pulling at his face at the thought of seeing you again. It’s all he’s thought about today, having had just two hours of sleep as he sorted out what to say to you. And while he’s not well-versed in the practice of confessing his love, he feels his whole life has been devoted to the very purpose of being here and finding you. The debates you share, midnight walks to the bus stop, the book- he’d be a fool not to reciprocate what you yearn for. And when he doesn’t find you, Minho feels the familiar pit of worry form in his stomach. He’s not accounted for a change of plans, or even what might happen if you reject his admission. He wants to believe so badly that the answer is yes, risking everything just to say something.
20 minutes after he’s been home, Minho receives a phone call, answering in a rush while he checks the upstairs rooms for you.
“Hello?”
“It’s Sujin from class,” the phone at the other end says plainly. “I’m here for our project.”
And Minho freezes, remembering very well that he has a project due very soon, and his partner is here tonight to work on it with him. He sighs heavily into the line at the change in plans, knowing he’ll have to bottle his emotions another day and act on them tomorrow when he can get you alone.
“Oh, right,” Minho responds, making his way to the stairs and jogging down them. “The door should be unlocked.”
He stuffs his phone in his back pocket, making his way to the door to meet Sujin, and as he passes the sliding door to the backyard, he finally sees you. Knelt on the ground in a white sundress, your hands tainted with soil as you tend to the tomato plants and hum to yourself. Minho smiles at the sight of you, the urge to tell you right now stronger than ever. But before he can call out to you, Sujin’s already made her way inside, peering curiously around the place and clutching her purse in hand.
“Wow,” she says, chuckling lightly. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”
Minho scratches the back of his head awkwardly as she grazes a marble sculpture with her fingers. His eyes remain on you through the glass door, transfixed by the way you tuck your hair behind your ears and pat your dress as you stand up again. Sujin takes note of Minho’s evident distraction, briefly glancing out the window and back to him.
“Where are we working?” She asks, pursing her lips together.
“We can work upstairs,” Minho explains, as you finally make your way inside.
At first you’re confused at the sight, Minho looming over a girl much prettier than you, her long hair styled neatly over one shoulder and a matching formal two-piece hugging her curves beautifully. And then as you see her begin up the stairs in the direction of Minho’s room, you finally understand.
Of course there’s another woman.
Of course there was a catch to all of this, because why else would things condition themselves so perfectly that you’d win him over?
And suddenly everything feels pointless- confessing to him, feeling any ounce of emotion regarding all of this, even working this job. He has a girlfriend, and she’s much prettier than you are. And he's trailing behind her after giving you a shy nod, likely embarrassed at the fact that you’ll be here tending to his household while he fucks her in his upstairs bedroom.
You can’t help but think that perhaps something got lost in translation, because Minho evidently never liked you, and unless this version of the universe magically conditions to work in your favor just once, it’s going to remain that way.
*
When the tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, they don’t stop. You can’t feed Joon without hiccuping through a hot rush of tears that fall from your cheeks onto his tray below him. Joon seems to sense something is wrong, pausing the task of dodging his food to observe the way your face contorts as you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. And when you do stop to look at him, all you can see is Minho, his eyes and lips resembling exactly that of his elder brother’s.
The chores feel like a futile task now, and you let them sit there for the remainder of the evening you’re working for. In fact, the only thing you do complete is the task of getting Joon to bed when the sun begins to set, marching carefully upstairs to not interrupt Minho’s time with his girlfriend. And the word makes you sick, to think that he’s been stringing you along all while having a girlfriend- a fact he so conveniently left out.
Joon goes down without a fuss, and when he’s finally asleep, you escape the confines of the second story to lock yourself in the downstairs living room and complete your school work. How much of that is spent crying instead, you can’t quite remember.
It’s just after 9 when Sujin leaves for the evening, but you’re not awake to take notice when she does. You wake to the familiar sound of infomercials playing quietly on the television in front of you, Minho sitting on the floor in front of the sofa you occupy. His head hangs as he holds a book in his lap, probably some cheesy romance he projects onto him and his girlfriend, and his thin wireframe glasses rest on the bridge of his nose.
The dull narration on the television advertises jewelry tonight, and you let out a sigh as you feel your swollen eyes adjust to the bright screen in front of you. At this, Minho turns around, giving you a sheepish smile as you try to shut your eyes again. But it’s too late- he’s already seen you awake for the evening.
“Hi,” Minho says for the first time today, bookmarking his page and lowering the volume on the television. “She’s late again today, but I saved you some takeout.”
“I’m not hungry,” you reply quickly, sitting up and reaching for your bag. “In fact, I need to go home.”
“Oh, sure,” Minho replies, a little hurt at your rushed tone. “I can walk you-”
“No need,” you say to him, pulling on your sneakers and doing everything in your power to avert his gaze. He furrows his brows a little, knowing you never reject his offers to walk you home.
“Is everything-”
“Fine. I just need to get home,” you reiterate, finally sitting down and smoothing down your wrinkled dress.
Every part of him is annoying you right now, your mind teeming with the reminder that you’ve been wasting your time trying to know him better while he’s been entertaining a whole girlfriend these past few months.
“Y/n, wait,” Minho calls, still intent on telling you tonight, while the feelings remain stronger than ever. But you’ve already crossed the room to the front door, where you avert his gaze so he won’t see you begin to cry again.
“Bye,” you call to him, not even looking back before you’re turning the knob and seeing yourself out. “Tell Mrs. Lee it was an emergency.”
And he wants to ask if it was, but he can’t, staring at your rushed figure jogging down the street as you distance yourself from him before he can string you along any further.
*
Thus begins the game of avoidance.
It starts through keeping your conversations with Minho as short as possible, not engaging him when he tells you about theories he’s studied this week or what his days on campus were like. When he asks about your day, you give him one-word responses, muttering a simple “fine” before turning your attention to Joon again.
When Minho asks to go to the grocery store, you pretend you have a headache- for three days straight. So he makes the trips solo, balancing bags on one arm and telling you about how the cashiers have begun to ask where his pretend wife’s been. You give him no reaction, nodding as you feed Joon his dinner and glance at the clock for the umpteeth time, desperate to get away from him.
And the mystery woman remains, marching into the Lee household in afternoons like she owns the place, already having memorized the path to Minho’s room as she makes her way up the stairs and doesn’t acknowledge you. She’s beautiful everyday that she’s here, short skirts and long ponytails you can’t seem to look away from. And she’s even more hypnotic when she’s in the presence of Minho, the two of them as a couple certainly a sight for sore eyes. If they were a married couple, you’d reckon they'd be much more distinguished than you and Minho would.
“Do you want a coffee?” Minho peers into the library one night to ask you. You keep your gaze locked on the computer in front of you, trying your best to keep your guard up as he waits for a response.
“No, thank you,” you say coldly, continuing to work on your essay.
When he realizes you’re not going to say anything else, Minho enters the room reluctantly, his hands shoved in his pockets as he leans against the doorframe and gives you a once-over. You say nothing, still, holding back your emotions so as not to cause a scene. And Minho can tell something’s wrong in the way that you shift your eyes to him briefly and shake your head as if scolding yourself for doing so.
“Did I do something?” Minho finally asks, his voice a little shaky.
“No,” you say quickly, skimming the same sentence on your laptop screen over and over again.
“Are you… sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He fiddles with a loose thread in the pocket of his pants, keeping his gaze on the floor and thinking about your differing behavior toward him the past week.
“We just haven’t talked much. And you never really leave here anymore. I wanted to make sure I didn’t overstep any boundaries-”
“Overstep?” You interrupt, scanning your eyes over the screen of your computer. “There’s nothing to overstep. I get paid to watch your brother, not hang out with you.”
You feel guilty the minute the words leave your mouth, but you feel even worse knowing he’s just been stringing you along with a girlfriend this whole time. The atmosphere feels akin to when you first met him, awkward and cold, and with tensions high like this, you don’t feel at home in the Lee household anymore.
“Sorry,” Minho says, nodding. “You’re right. I guess I’m overstepping by asking.”
You only look up at him when he leaves, his shoulders sagging as he leaves you alone once again- only this time, you have a feeling he’s going to stop making an attempt to rekindle things anymore.
And you’re right- Minho stops trying entirely. There are no more offers to walk you home, no philosophical debates over coffee or grocery store trips where you act as a married couple. You’re still covered in knit blankets when you fall asleep accidentally on the couch, but Minho doesn’t stick around watching his infomercials to wait up for you anymore. And he still saves you his takeout when he orders, but he leaves it neatly packaged for you in the fridge instead of bringing it up to you like he used to.
You’ve gone from a mutual infatuation for each other to complete strangers once again. The house feels lonely and cold like it once did, your only real human interaction occurring in the few minutes you have with Mrs. Lee at the start and end of the day.
Minho doesn’t talk to you at all, locking himself away in his room like he did when you first started caring for Joon. And when you see him in passing at late hours of the night, he looks indifferent, sagging his shoulders as he averts your gaze with a book in hand and disappears down the corridors again. At some point, you begin to see his girlfriend less- in fact, his stoic composure makes you wonder if something’s happened between them. But as time goes on, you start to realize this is less about his girlfriend- and more about you.
What a gift it is to feel- but also what a curse. To let something consume you so entirely you can barely breathe without it. It’s laboring to think of anything else, of anyone else besides Minho and what he means to you. And as you replay your last interaction in your head for the nth time this evening, you think back to the day you started here. You knew the fundamentals of caring for a baby, having trained just enough to land a job doing it. All you wanted was to be liked by Mrs. Lee, and by baby Joon- and by extension, Minho. This household quickly became someplace you felt like you actually belonged in. But your purpose here has completely diverted from its original path, having prioritized Minho’s complexities and his feelings toward you above what you were hired here to do. You’ve experienced a roller coaster of emotions trying to understand him, and just when you thought you’d cracked him, you realized his heart belongs to someone else. So with the comfortable knowledge in mind that perhaps the universe isn’t, in fact, conditioned for you to mean anything more to him than just a babysitter, you understand it’s time to stop forcing any other version of it.
*
There’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary two weeks into your avoidance of Minho.
You still haven’t talked, he still keeps his distance and you get paid to perform the job you’re here to do. But one afternoon before Minho’s even home from school, Joon refuses to eat. It starts with a tantrum he throws at breakfast time, which you consider typical as he knocks his cereal onto the floor and waves his hands around restlessly. You can only spoon feed him a couple spoons of yogurt before he’s put down for his afternoon nap. And when you wake him for his post-nap meal, he’s just as fussy. He seems to be bothered by something, crying loudly as you offer him different snacks and try your best to calm him down. But nothing seems to work, and when he begins refusing his bottles late into the afternoon, you start to panic.
Mrs. Lee isn’t home for a few hours, you’re unsure of when Minho gets home and you don’t have any way of getting to a hospital right now. The guilt and the fear eat away at you as Joon cries loudly, his face turning a bright shade of red as snot dribbles from his nose onto his shirt. He must be hungry, and clearly uncomfortable by something, only you’re entirely unsure what. His pacifier doesn’t calm him, nor does his favorite stuffed animal or his favorite television program. When his crying reaches the 10-minute mark, you feel hopeless, well prepared to drag him onto the bus to the nearest hospital yourself, fully convinced you’re going to lose your job. And as you begin to cry, too, the front door opens, Minho walking in with his backpack clutched casually in one hand and his car keys in the other. His girlfriend is with him this time, her head hanging as she uses her phone, completely oblivious to the atmosphere around her.
“Minho,” you call helplessly from the kitchen, and his head snaps instantly to look at you. Your eyes are nearly bloodshot from crying, your sleeves drenched in tears from wiping your eyes and your voice shaky as you speak. It’s the first time you’ve said his name in weeks, you realize, feeling your heart race as you call for him.
“What happened?” Minho asks when he turns the corner, throwing off his backpack and approaching a very fussy Joon.
“He won’t eat,” you reply through hiccups, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater again. “I’ve tried everything. He won’t stop crying.”
Minho takes Joon in his arms, rocking him gently back and forth, to no avail; Joon starts crying even harder now, dribbling snot onto Minho’s sweatshirt and hitting his chest repeatedly.
“I’ll have to take him to the clinic,” Minho says in a rushed tone, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and making his way toward the door.
His girlfriend finally turns the corner into the kitchen, putting down her cellphone and huffing frustratedly.
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry,” Minho replies, shoving past her with Joon in his arms. “I have to go. We can work on our project another time.”
Your heart drops at the words- project. Project, as in a project for his university. With a classmate.
You want to cry more now, for being so stupidly angry with him over nothing, but you still have to help Minho take Joon to the clinic. Sujin doesn’t protest, quick to exit without so much as a goodbye as Minho scrambles to fetch Joon’s car seat.
“I’ll get him in the car seat,” you say, pulling your sneakers on as he balances Joon in his arms.
“You’re coming?”
“Of course I’m coming,” you scoff, already taking Joon from his arms and ushering him outside. “Go start the car.”
*
“Lee?” A nurse calls, holding a clipboard close to her chest as she scans the waiting room.
You and Minho both stand up, Minho balancing Joon in his arms as the nurse gestures you to the door.
“Please, follow me.”
Both of you walk side-by-side down the corridor as she double-checks papers on her clipboard, making a sharp right and leading you into a private room.
Minho sets Joon down on the examination table, holding his arms to steady him, and you stand beside him as you wait for the doctor.
“She’s just reviewing the results,” the nurse says, referring to the x-rays Joon took earlier. “She’ll be in shortly to discuss them.”
Minho nods silently as the nurse leaves the room, leaving the two of you alone once again. You say nothing, unsure of how to break the awkward silence as Minho wipes a string of drool from Joon’s mouth and avoids eye contact with you.
You feel awkward, embarrassed and so, so stupid, for having treated Minho like absolute scum because you assumed the worst of him. It breaks you to see him avert your gaze like this, treating you the same way he did when you first crossed paths. He has his guard completely up again, and you’re not sure he’s ever going to let it down around you. As you lose yourself in doubtful thoughts, the door opens, Joon’s doctor sauntering inside and wiping her hands with the strong scent of hand sanitizer.
“Hi there,” she says cheerfully, giving you both a warm smile. “Are we here for baby Joon today?”
“Yes,” you both say in unison, and she laughs a little.
“You two are very synced. They say it happens in the first year of marriage.”
“We’re not married,” Minho chimes in quickly, and you turn to look at him, feeling a pit in your stomach all over again.
“No?” She questions. “My apologies. Is mom here today?”
“I’m just his babysitter,” you say quietly. “This is his brother.”
“I see,” the doctor says, eyeing you both. “Well you may notice I’m fairly calm, and that’s because there’s no terrible news I have to share. Baby Joon is just suffering from a little mucus buildup. He’s probably feeling the impaction, and the discomfort has caused a loss of appetite.”
You feel a weight off your shoulders instantly, relieved that this isn’t a more serious matter. He’s going to be fine, you think to yourself. He’s going to be his normal self as soon as this is over.
“… Just be sure to use a syringe to drain the mucus a couple times per day, and make sure he gets plenty of sleep.”
As the doctor writes Joon a prescription for his saline syringe, you catch Minho’s gaze briefly, shooting him a relieved look. He gives you a small nod in response, as if to say he’s glad you came along. And he is, he just can’t say it out loud.
*
“I think he’s finally sleeping,” Minho says, patting Joon’s back gently as he stands up from his chair. The two of you have been sat in the library for nearly two hours since getting back home, in complete silence as you read your books and wait for Joon to fall asleep. You take breaks every now and then to drain Joon’s mucus, alternating roles between holding his face still and using the syringe on him. And when he’s finally comfortable again, he dozes back off to sleep, little snores escaping his lips.
Minho leaves the room to put Joon to bed, and while he’s gone, you take the opportunity to pack your stuff and prepare to leave for the night. You feel guilty, not having said much to Minho this evening, especially with the newfound knowledge that this mystery woman was just a partner for his project. But you’re not sure what to say, well aware that he’s probably already decided you hate him, and there’s not much else you can do to fix things.
“He’s down,” Minho says as he re-enters the library.
“That’s good,” you reply with a solemn smile, packing your laptop in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
“I should get going.”
“Do you… need me to walk you?” Minho asks a little shyly, and although the offer is tempting, you shake your head no.
“I’ll be fine. It’s really not as unsafe as you’d think.”
Minho just nods, understanding that you still don’t want to be close to him. And he gives you a little bow, before he exits the room and makes his way up the stairs to his own.
As you begin to leave, an object left on the chair across from you catches your eye.
It’s Minho’s book- the first edition copy of Love and Limerence you gifted him. You take the small book in your hands, scanning its contents briefly and examining the pages. He’s already annotated several of them, despite having read the book numerous times now, and you can’t help but smile at his scribbled notes circling all his favorite quotes and underlining them twice. You know it’s valuable to him, despite coming from somebody he probably despises right now, but you decide to take it up to him anyway, not wanting him to lose it.
When you’re outside his door, you give a small knock as it’s left ajar, and Minho hums in response.
You enter quietly, holding the book out to him and shooting him a small smile.
“You left this downstairs,” you say, and Minho reaches for it quickly, embarrassed you might’ve seen some of his annotations.
“Thanks,” he replies, setting it back on his bookshelf of romance novels.
He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him, and you join him at a comfortable distance as he keeps his gaze on the hardwood floor.
For a moment, no one says anything. And then he sighs deeply, before finally speaking.
“I’m sorry. If I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t,” you’re quick to reply.
“I clearly did,” Minho retorts. “And I know I’m quiet, and I kind of shut myself off from the rest of the world. But I never meant for it to affect you.”
“It didn’t affect me,” you reiterate.
He scoffs lightly in response.
“Why won’t you just say it? You haven’t talked to me in weeks. You don’t even look at me. I clearly did something to push you away.”
You don’t reply immediately, pondering what to say. And ultimately, you let your emotions speak for themselves.
“I was jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Of the girl. The one who’s been here almost every night.”
“Sujin?”
“Look, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know who she is or what she is to you-”
“My project partner,” Minho interrupts. “One who hates my guts.”
“Project partner,” you continue. “It doesn’t matter who she is- I like you, Minho,” you finally emphasize, turning to meet his gaze. His lips are parted in shock, his eyebrows furrowed as he hears you speak.
“I’m fucking infatuated with you, and it drives me crazy. I can’t go on vacation without seeing you in the books at the stores, I can’t sleep at night without your stupid theories replaying in my head. And I jump to the worst possible conclusions when you’re even near another girl. I’m going crazy trying to be liked by you- trying to look at everything through the lens of your romance theories or your book quotes, or whatever. But it’s so scary to like someone this much.”
Minho says nothing for a minute, collecting his thoughts as you let go of the breath you’ve been holding. He’s not used to people liking him- let alone being this intrigued by him. And especially when it’s in the form of reciprocation, from the one person he’s infatuated with, too.
“Why is it scary?” Minho questions, facing you now, his eyes darting briefly over your lips and then back up to your worried gaze.
“Because I’m here for a job. I’m not supposed to be feeling all this. You’re not supposed to be part of this.”
“How do you know that?” Minho retorts, leaning in a little closer to you now.
“I just…”
“You’re allowed to feel, y/n. You’re allowed to want this.”
And before you can protest his words, his lips are on yours, kissing you passionately like he’s pacifying the arguments before they can come to fruition. Your heart beats erratically in your chest, your mind racing with a million thoughts about what you’re doing, and what this whole thing even implies, but you shut them out with the rest of your concerns, pressing your thighs together as he brings two hands to your face and cups your chin gently. His lips work against yours so beautifully, so effortlessly, like the two of you have done this several times before. And maybe you have, in all his alternate universe theories- on your honeymoon, on the run from the police- right here in the comfort of his grand bedroom, his hands snaking up to pull off your cardigan as you tug desperately at the fabric of his t-shirt. Minho says nothing between passionate kisses, afraid if he talks you might realize what’s happening and leave. But you won’t leave, especially not when you’ve been dreaming of this, too.
When your cardigan is off, Minho moves a little closer to you on the bed, letting one hand guide itself onto your waist and trace the gentle curve of your body there. He’s delicate with his movements, careful not to startle you with his touches, but he’s also admittedly thought about this for weeks. The thought of you confessing was never something that crossed his mind- he was so sure he’d driven you away after that night. Never in his wildest fantasies had Minho considered the possibility that you were this smitten with him, too. But he did have thoughts of your lips on his, thoughts of your hands intertwined with his and ungodly visions of you under him, right here in his bed. Visions of his mouth on your breasts after you’d accidentally exposed yourself to him in the kitchen and he was forced to give attention to the massive erection that grew in his pants. And after you’d gifted him his favorite book, attentive to the details he’d indulged you in which he never otherwise shared with people, visions of making love to you ran rampant in his mind, filling you up over and over again with remnants of him as a form of saying I’m infatuated with you, too.
Minho’s kisses become needier as your words replay in his head, darting his tongue out to dance against yours with the sounds of exchanging saliva present between your plump, eager lips. He pushes you back gently so that you’re now lying on his pillow, the angle so intimate, the view of his room from here like something you’re not supposed to see. The ceilings appear even larger when you’re flat against his bed, the curtains that drape over his bedpost seemingly miles high.
Minho’s kisses trail down to your neck now, eagerly peppering your flesh in wet kisses as your hands reach up to tangle in his hair, holding him closer to you and letting him graze his lips wherever he desires. You can’t help but feel guilty having him all over you like this when you remember how you’ve treated him these past couple months- criticizing his tendencies to be quiet, intruding on his space and pushing him away because of a girl you’d assumed to be his girlfriend. But you also know most of it has been because you want him to mean more to you- perhaps you’ve just been trying to change things so that in this version of the universe, he’s not just an enigma to you. You want all of this- his lips on yours, his body pressed into you and to give yourself completely to him.
“Just so we’re clear,” Minho says suddenly, pulling away from you to hold eye contact with you. “I’m crazy about you, too. I really like you.”
And you can’t help but smile back in response, pulling him in again to press his lips on yours. He smiles into the kiss, too, satisfied you’re both on the same page. And although your now eager movements imply something more is about to happen, you don’t have to verbalize anything, his fingers snaking up your shirt serving as answer enough.
“Is this okay?” Minho asks, grazing your flesh with his big hands as he toys with the hem of your shirt.
You nod in response, sitting up a little and completing the task of pulling it off over your head and discarding it beside you. You waste no time on your bra, either, reaching around to unclasp it and rid yourself of the fabric without him having to ask. His eyes widen again at the sight, having remembered every curve of your body since that incident in the kitchen. But now in front of him again, he feels his cock swell in his pants, desperate to act on the urge. In nimble movements, his hand cups the mound of your breast, kneading it gently and sighing at the sensation of your soft skin against his. His mouth finds yours again, indulging you in a slow, passionate kiss, and then he trails down until he meets his hand at the mound of your breast, pressing a chaste kiss to your flesh before finally latching his lips around your nipple.
He starts with gentle kisses while your nipple rests between his lips, a string of saliva dribbling down to coat your hardened bud. And then he takes it between his lips with more force, beginning a gentle sucking motion as he gives your other nipple attention with his free hand, circling the tip with his thumb in tender movements.
You sigh beneath him, the sensation sending a shiver up your core, your nipples hardening even more in his touch, now eager for him to give your soaking core some attention. But he takes his time stimulating you, moving to your other breast to take your nipple in his mouth and leave a trail of saliva. Your body shivers when the cool air grazes your wet nipples as he pulls away, and he meets your lips again to kiss you passionately.
While he kisses you, your hands now toy with the hem of his shirt too, signifying for him to take it off. And Minho reciprocates with a little nod, finally pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his bare chest to you. It’s a marvelous sight to see more of his honey-tanned skin, his toned muscles and his broad pectorals practically begging for you to touch them. And just above his stomach, a horizontal pale pink scar, one that he eyes momentarily and then gives you a shy shrug.
You run your fingers along the scar briefly, tracing it in its entirety and bringing your hand up to caress his face.
“I didn’t think I could be any more attracted to you,” you say to him sheepishly, tracing the scar again. “You look like the poetry you’re so obsessed with.”
Minho feels an involuntary smile pulling at his face as he leans in to kiss you again, this time intent on giving himself fully to you the way you deserve.
Your kisses both grow hungrier, needier, as your bodies tangle into each other, and Minho loops a finger into the hem of your panties, tugging them down so that he has access to your sopping cunt. As your hands tangle further into his soft brown hair, his finger traces down the length of your stomach, dipping into every curve and over every inch of flesh he only got a brief sight of. And when he finds your mound, you arch up into him, parting your legs slightly to give him access. Minho doesn’t waste another second, attaching the pads of his fingers to your clit and working you in circular motions as he kisses you. Little gasps escape your mouth as he does, breathing heavily into his kisses and grinding your core closer to him as he quickens his pace, smearing your arousal around your aching clit and circling two fingers around to massage you gently. His cock is now fully erect against his abdomen, prodding into your upper thigh as he trails his kisses down your neck again, but he’s patient, forgiving with his movements, eager to pleasure you first.
As his kisses graze your neck, you tug his boxers over his cock, pulling them down so you’re equal parts undressed. Minho winces a little at the sensation, a bead of precum already dripping down the head of his cock, and you feel yourself clench around nothing at just the sight of him hard for you.
When he takes note of your anticipation, he glances down at his own erection, locking his gaze with yours again as if to confirm again that this is okay. You nod in response, reaching your hands around to loop them behind his neck and pull him a little closer. And then your gaze falls to his cock again, waiting for him to make the next move.
The two of you say nothing as Minho’s hand finds the base of his cock, pumping himself gently before leaning in to kiss you. He lets himself hover closer over you, until his cock is kissing your entrance in the same gentle, wet movements as your lips. You lift your leg up slightly to grant him access, and then in gentle movements as your eyes remain shut, you feel him push his tip inside of you, stretching you out around his girth and causing you to gasp. He’s bigger than you anticipated, even the dripping arousal of your cunt having trouble taking him wholly. But he brings his fingers down to your clit again, massaging you slowly to ease the pain. And it works, your body relaxing around him as he pulls back a little and thrusts in again, this time pushing further until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you. You let out a fervent moan at the sensation, his cock pulsating inside of you as he holds it there, feeling every inch of you clench around him and take him so well now. And then with a gentle kiss to your lips, he begins to move, his hips pulling back slowly to thrust back inside of you.
You feel so full of him, having him exactly as you’d always imagined him- circling your thoughts, hovering over you and finally inside of you, his cock brushing against your cervix so delicately with every thrust. Your labored breaths become one as you pant into each other’s mouths with overwhelming pleasure. Minho steadies himself with one hand on the mattress beside you, quickening his pace a little as he feels his cock twitch inside of you in response to a particularly pornographic moan of yours.
“Fuck,” he breathes, shutting his eyes as he continues to slip in and out of your soaking cunt. “You’re so full of me, aren’t you?”
He brings his lips to your neck again, nibbling the flesh between his teeth and letting it bruise as you moan beneath him.
“I’ve thought about you everyday,” you respond, angling his lips to yours again as he fucks you. “I’ve thought about this so many times.”
“Yeah?” Minho says with a satisfied smile, working circles back onto your clit.
“Yes,” you breathe back, toying with his hair as your arms wrap around his neck. “I wanted you to fuck me like the characters in your romance novels.”
Minho feels his cock twitch again, wincing and slowing his pace so as not to finish just yet.
“I can’t help it,” you whimper underneath him. “I think about you all the time. I think about you fucking me all the time.”
Minho intertwines his hand with yours, pressing it down on your abdomen and letting yourself feel when his bulge fills you up at every thrust, the motion visible beneath your palms.
“Feel that, baby?” He asks between kisses to your drooly lips. “Feel how good I fuck you? Is this what you imagined?”
You gasp at the sensation once you feel it, the bulge of his cock protruding against your palm with every pump inside of you. You nod breathlessly, almost unable to reply to his words now.
“I imagined it, too,” he says, picking up his pace now. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to bend you over the couch and fuck you right there the moment I met you.”
He groans a little as you clench around him and moan in response.
“Minho,” you say breathlessly, not missing the way his cock twitches inside of you once again. “Will you finish inside of me?”
He pauses for a moment, scanning your expression for a sign of whether or not you’re being serious.
“Please,” you beg, as if reading his thoughts. “I’m on birth control. Just want to feel your seed inside of me.”
He shuts his eyes briefly as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in a little closer.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” Minho asks, locking his gaze on yours again. “I want to, but I want you to be sure about it.”
“I’m sure,” you say quickly, the last syllable hitching in the back of your throat as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “Please, just wanna feel you fill me up.”
He thrusts harder into you now, the room teeming with the squelching noises of your pussy taking him so effortlessly.
“You like it when we play house like this, huh?” He says, wrapping a hand gently around your throat. “You like imagining me as your husband, don’t you? Fucking you like we’re married?”
And it doesn’t take you more than a second to think before you’re nodding desperately at his words. You do love it, this sense of belonging when you’re in the Lee household. But you also get aroused at this second life you lead alongside him, caring for the baby like it’s one of yours and being fucked by Minho when no one else is around to hear your lewd moans.
“Yes,” you reply, your response muffled by his grasp on your throat. “You make such a good dad.”
“We’d make such good parents,” he emphasizes, kissing you breathlessly. “What do you say I fuck a baby into you and we find out for real?”
You feel yourself contract around his girth at the words, not having considered it seriously, but turned on at the idea of carrying a child just for him.
“Is that what you want?” Minho asks, nearing his orgasm as he thrusts even faster into you now, panting into your mouth above you.
“Yes,” you reply with a whimper. “Want you to fill me up so bad.”
“Yeah?” He cuts you off, pressing your abdomen harder with his hand. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Want you to feel it.”
Your senses hone in on the feeling of your palm over his bulge, pulsating rhythmically as he nears his orgasm.
“I’m cumming, fuck, I’m gonna finish,” Minho says, shutting his eyes in pleasure as he moves at his fastest pace now, his grip around your throat holding you steady as you lose yourself underneath him. He’s never finished inside someone before, but he has no intention of pulling out now, the conversation of impregnating you sending him over the edge as he reaches the cusp of his release.
You contract around his breathlessly now, eager to take his load, never having taken someone’s either, but desperate for Minho to be your first.
And with a few more harsh thrusts, Minho’s cock twitches once inside of you, finally letting out a generous load of his cum inside of you, the gush of his release filling you up so fully, the warm sensation of his milky white release thrusting deep inside of your pussy as he fucks the rest into you.
He feels his head spin, his eyes shutting instinctively at the sensation as he lets go fully inside of you, no urgency to pull out or stave off his release like he usually has to. And it takes a while before he’s begun to soften again, the knowledge of giving you his cum almost rousing him again and lengthening the period of his release inside of you. Minho already knows he’s going to be addicted to finishing inside of you from here on out- and he doesn’t want it any other way.
The warm feeling is all it takes for you to finish in mere seconds, contracting around him as he fucks you through his orgasm, your release mixing with his and dribbling down the side of your thighs as he begins to slow down. Minho doesn’t pull out immediately, instead caressing your face to gauge your reaction as he softens inside of you.
“Was it okay?” Minho queries, tucking sweaty strands of hair behind your ears and loosening his grasp on your throat.
“It was more than okay,” you say breathlessly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he smiles down at you. “I feel so full of you.”
Minho kisses you sweetly, rubbing his thumb along your hand soothingly as he pulls out of you, a string of his cum connecting to you still and dribbling onto the sheets as he rolls over to lay on his side.
For a moment, the two of you say nothing, your chests rising and falling as you catch your breath and ponder the day’s events. It’s not what you expected was going to happen when you saw yourself up to his room again, but it is what you’d hoped would happen eventually. And the atmosphere feels much lighter around you now, completely void of the lingering sexual and emotional tension that’s plagued you for so long.
“Minho?” you say quietly.
“Yeah?”
“Philosophically speaking, how many versions of us do you think are lying next to each other like this, right now?”
Minho thinks over your words for a moment, and then he chuckles lightly.
“Well if the universe was conditioned right, I’d hope for an infinite amount. But considering how long it took us to get here in this version, I’d say just one.”
And he sits up, leaning in for another kiss as two fingers tuck his arousal further into you, holding his release inside of your still-sensitive body.
*
“Have some bacon, honey,” Mrs. Lee says to you as she scrambles to get her things together for the day. “I made a lot, so help yourself.”
“Thanks,” you reply, strapping Joon into his high chair and smoothing down your skirt.
Ever since that evening, you and Minho have been inseparable. The two of you wait until Mrs. Lee is gone for the morning, desperately grabbing at each other and giggling between kisses until Minho has to leave for his classes. And when he returns, it’s much of the same, the two of you helping put Joon down for his afternoon nap before escaping up to his bedroom and making love until Joon wakes again.
Minho is completely and utterly obsessed with you, the same way you are with him, but you both know this game of house you play can’t go on forever. Mostly because you feel the guilt eating away at you day by day, every waking minute you’re tending to your duties as a babysitter or conversing with Mrs. Lee. It’s hard to be in the same room as Minho when she’s around, the urge to just confess even more present when she attempts to facilitate conversation between the two of you and you’re forced to act like he’s still a mystery.
But you have him more figured out than you ever have before, memorizing the freckles on his body like the back of your hand, reciting his favorite quotes like prayers and replaying the melodic giggles that escape his lips. You don’t want to be apart from him, but the point still stands- it’s scary to like someone this much. He consumes you more than he ever has before, filling every waking second of your life with remnants of him. You love when he reads romantic philosophical theories to you, or when he cooks you and Joon dinner after a long day. But you feel guilty when you’re alone with Joon again, hoping he can’t somehow tell that you’re only thinking of his brother when you’re preparing his bottles or feeding him. You hope Mrs. Lee doesn’t notice when your hair is a little too tousled to have just been from a nap, or the time you had to cross your legs to keep Minho’s release inside of you when the two of you had finished just in time for her to make it home. It’s selfish, and it’s unfair. And with no sign of this fling stopping anytime soon, you don’t see any other option to be fit.
“I’m leaving,” Mrs. Lee finally says, grabbing her car keys off the kitchen table and pulling her heels on. “Make sure to get Joon his medicine!”
The two of you watch as she shuts the front door behind her, and then you wait until her car starts, holding your breath as she pulls out of the driveway and begins down the street in what feels like an agonizing amount of time.
The minute she’s gone, Minho turns to you again, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you lean back against the counter.
“Morning,” he says with a shy smile. He wastes no time leaning in for a romantic kiss, which you reciprocate, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling into him.
When he pulls away, the two of you say nothing, holding each other in a comfortable embrace as he rubs little circles into the small of your back.
“I guess it’s just mom and dad home right now,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck. “I’ll ditch class right now if you want me to fill you up again.”
And his offer is tempting as he presses his erection into you, working more kisses down the nape of your neck and trailing his hands up your skirt.
“No,” you finally say, pushing him away and collecting your thoughts. “You need to get to class. I have a lot of stuff to do. I’m working, in case you forgot.”
“Okay, okay,” Minho says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I digress.”
He pulls back to caress your face with a visible smirk as your eyes graze his thighs, so beautifully sculpted under the fabric of his jeans. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so sinfully tempted by somebody before, like Eve to the apple, like a moth to a flame- he’s intoxicating, but you know you shouldn’t be indulging this while you’re here to fulfill your role as a babysitter.
“You should go,” you say to him, swallowing nervously as his hands trace the outline of your lips.
“Yeah,” Minho replies, a hint of disappointment present in his voice.
And without another word, he gathers his car keys off the table, sending you off with a little wave as he disappears for the day.
You may have Minho mostly figured out now- his fascination with romance and philosophy, his soft interior under the stoic exterior he presents everyone else with, his astounding levels of emotional intelligence and unwavering kindness for the people he loves. But now that things have become a little more complicated between the two of you, you fear all of this will come to an end as fortuitously as it all began.
The reality is, this isn’t one of Minho’s romance novels- you’re both real people, with emotions and convictions and reservations. And though you want this fleeting thing to last forever, you’re well aware that things don’t work that way, especially when you’re just a babysitter at the end of it all. Sure, Minho sees you as much more than that- but you were hired to be here in the Lee household, paid to fulfill your role here, and once this comes to an end, your relationship with Minho likely will, too.
… and thus, the decision to quit your job isn’t one you take lightly. It succeeds hours of thinking, weighing your options and planning out exactly what you’re going to tell Mrs. Lee when she asks why you’re leaving so suddenly. You want to do another internship, you decide on telling her, hoping she doesn’t poke enough holes to get the truth out of you- “I think far too much about your eldest son and it’s eating me alive.”
*
All day long, you try your best to shut Minho out of your thoughts, focusing on your online courses and caring for Joon like you used to. But it feels futile, this task of pretending things are the way they used to be. They’re not- you’re sneaking behind Mrs. Lee’s back and hooking up with her eldest son. When all’s said and done, you’ll be right back in your own home, with your parents desperate to send you elsewhere once again, and your own life to tend to. This double life you romanticize isn’t real, nor is it attainable anymore.
Your phone call with Mrs. Lee to announce your decision doesn’t set anything in stone yet, her words urging you to speak with her later this week when she has some free time. But you know once you do speak with her, you’ll only have a few evenings left with Minho until this is all over. And you don’t have the heart to tell him just yet, but if things go anything the way they did when you first brought it up to him, you know he’s going to be heartbroken.
When Minho arrives home that evening, he can already sense something is wrong. You’re sat in the garden, where you typically don’t go, your legs crossed neatly over one of the sunlounger chairs as you let your thoughts consume you. Mrs. Lee’s koi fish fountain stands nobly in front of you, a robust stream of water trickling from its lips and into the concrete bowl below. You’re mesmerized by it as you always are, the steady sound of water coupled with the birds chirping in the sunny greenery around you as peaceful as ever.
“Hey,” Minho says, sliding open the screen door and stepping outside to meet you.
“Hi,” you reply, holding a hand up over you to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten how divine he looked today, his white button up now folded up at the sleeves and exposing his veiny forearms to you.
“How was your day?” Minho asks, pressing a small kiss to your temple as he occupies the spot beside you and stares at the fountain.
“Okay,” you respond, though you’re lying through your teeth. “Joon went down about an hour ago.”
Minho nods, and then he furrows his brows together as he speaks again.
“Why are you out here?”
You shrug in response, keeping short with your words as he pushes you for answers. And you want to tell him it’s because you made the most painful decision to call Mrs. Lee and forfeit all of this, but you know it’ll only hurt more, so you divert from the truth.
“It was stuffy inside,” you voice back, shooting him a small smile.
Minho seems to relax beside you, his shoulders sagging a little as he takes notice of your calm demeanor. He doesn’t have reason to believe anything’s wrong, judging by the way you converse so casually.
“You want me to cook you something?” Minho asks, placing his palm up next to you, and you let your hand intertwine with his.
“Will you read to me?” You ask, eager to indulge in your favorite activity alongside him.
“I can read to you,” Minho echoes back, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. “Which book?”
You’re both in the cozy atmosphere of the library later that evening, Minho sat on his favorite velvet armchair as you occupy a spot in his lap with his arms wrapped around you. The book is positioned in front of him so you can both see, his fingers holding open the thin pages as the poetry leaves his lips, pausing in between lines to press kisses to the crook of your neck when he’s reminded of you in his favorite characters.
And you hold back tears in the moment, wanting so badly to tell Minho that you’ll be letting go of all of this, running back to the monotony of your old life, one where Minho doesn’t exist and you don’t have to balance the complicated feelings of liking someone to this degree. But you bite back your words, careful not to ruin the intimate moment you share while he loves you in an ignorant state of bliss.
“The pleasures of love are always in proportion to the fear,” Minho begins a new chapter, grazing your neck with his lips.
He trails a bit lower to graze your shoulder now, pressing a small trail of kisses as he pauses his reading. You giggle softly in response, feeling his fingers find the strap of your tank top to pull it down your shoulder so he can pepper kisses there, too.
“Minho,” you say softly, writhing in his embrace as he tickles every inch of your skin with his kisses, now shutting the book and setting it on the arm of the chair.
“Can’t help it,” Minho responds, shutting his eyes as he snakes his hands up the back of your tank top. “You look so beautiful right now.”
As you adjust in his lap, you can feel he’s now rock-hard in his jeans below you, his thighs flexing underneath you as he wraps two hands around your waist and runs them up and down your sides. You take the hint, turning around in his lap to face him, and let your arms wrap around his neck to steady yourself.
“What are you thinking about?” Minho asks, bringing his lips to yours as he feels his hardened cock graze against the fabric of his jeans, eager to pleasure you.
You want to express your fears, your doubts, to tell him the truth about what you spoke about on the phone with Mrs. Lee earlier today. But you can’t, not when he looks so tantalizing in front of you like this, his bulge perfectly outlined in his tight jeans and his veiny arms flexing below the fabric of his collared button-up. You’ve been roused for him since he left in the morning, his offer swirling your mind coupled with his appearance, like something out of a wet dream.
“You,” you voice back, whimpering pathetically into another kiss and rocking your hips gently over him so that he’s practically whimpering for you, too.
Neither of you have to say much, knowing already where the evening is headed, as you unzip his pants and palm his erection through the fabric of his boxers. Minho watches as you slide off his lap, dropping to your knees in front of him and tugging the fabric of his jeans. He complies with your urges, pulling them down to his knees and freeing his erection from his boxers, exhaling deeply as the cool breeze of the room grazes his leaking tip.
Without a second to waste, you take him in your mouth, letting your saliva coat his shaft as you kiss his tip tenderly and then guide him down your throat, the base of his cock just barely meeting your lips as you struggle to take him fully. Minho groans at the contact, bucking his hips off the chair to guide himself further into you, feeling his cock twitch when you gag a little at the contact. You stay like that for a good while, bobbing your head in rhythmic motions up and down his hardened length, your saliva allowing you to graze his shaft with ease.
Minho’s thighs contract desperately below him, trying his best to stave off the orgasm he’s been longing for since the moment he saw you this morning. His hands find your hair, pulling your locks into a makeshift ponytail and gasping as you take him a bit deeper now, pulling back again to pepper the tip of his wettened cock in drooly kisses.
“Fuck,” Minho breathes out, clutching the arm of the chair so desperately. “Baby, stop, I don’t want to finish yet,”
And you release him with a gentle pop, knowing exactly what it is he wants so badly. You never deny it, sitting back up again to position yourself over his cock you intertwine his hands with yours. He uses one hand to tug your panties to the side, and then in one swift motion, you guide his cock inside of you, sliding down the slick of his length and bottoming out with ease. You take him so well now, always able to adjust to his girth instantly as your cunt is always dripping in anticipation when he’s near.
Minho’s hand moves to push your tank top up, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking harshly as you begin to bounce on him with gentle movements. The room fills with sounds of panting, sucking and desperate moans as his cock fills you fully with every thrust, brushing against your cervix as he moves to your other nipple and kneads your breast desperately.
“What was that quote again?” You ask in labored breaths as he comes back up to kiss your lips.
“The pleasures of love,” he begins, breathlessly working his lips against yours as you clench around his length. “Are always in proportion to the fear.”
Minho feels his cock twitch inside of you, always nearing his finish much faster when you make him recite all his favorite quotes and book excerpts to you.
Except this one speaks much louder to you, directly aligning with your present-day emotions, circling your mind relentlessly as he fills you. Maybe this is what his book speaks of- the pleasures of love, being filled so fully and lovingly by Minho, two pieces of one whole like you’re both made for this, to make love into the late hours of the night while he recites poetry to you.
And all of this in proportion to the fear- this constant fear that he’s just a fleeting entity, that you’re both naive to play house like this and pretend it’s anything more. The fear present while you’re sneaking behind Mrs. Lee’s back, letting him fuck you like he’s married to you and indulge you in all of his deepest secrets, as though you’re the only one allowed to know him this intimately.
The love and fear and indeed in proportion to one another- you love him as much as you’re afraid of loving him.
“I love you,” you say suddenly, bringing him in for another kiss before he can respond. But the way his kisses work against yours, hungry and passionate, there’s not a hint of reluctance in his response when he pulls away to speak again.
“I love you,” Minho breathes back, working his kisses against yours as his cock pulsates inside of you, desperate for release. “And I hope every version of the universe is conditioned for us to be right here.”
You smile into him, slowing your movements as you feel him contract inside of you, and then his thighs flex as he finally finishes inside of you, shooting hot white ropes of his cum into your still-clenching cunt, his release already beginning to dribble back down his length as he feels you slow down over him.
You bring a hand between the two of you, gathering his cum on the pads of your fingers to circle your clit in gentle movements, stimulating yourself to your release, too, as you contract desperately around him and breathe labored kisses back into his mouth. Your juices mix with his as you catch your breath, keeping him inside of you as your chest rises and falls with gentle movements. But the two of you say nothing, pressing your lips together to indulge in more passionate kisses for the few minutes you have left before Mrs. Lee makes it home for the evening.
*
The garden is particularly beautiful the next afternoon, teeming with the sounds of birds chirping and trees swaying in the gentle autumn breeze. Mrs. Lee let you know she’d be home a little earlier to have a chat about your decision to leave, and when Joon is put down for his afternoon nap, you receive the call that she’s in the garden waiting for you. You enter hesitantly, worried Minho might catch you and question what you’re doing out here. But he’s not home from school yet, you remind yourself, glancing around the tall grass and neat rows of potted plants for Mrs. Lee.
“Y/n!” A voice calls from one of the patio chairs. “Come, sit!”
Mrs. Lee sits with her back facing you, a large white sun hat atop her neatly styled hair and complementing her matching white jumpsuit. Her gaze remains locked on the koi fountain you’re always transfixed by, too.
“Hi Mrs. Lee,” you say, giving her a small bow as you take the seat next to her. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
She nods with a smile. “So good to see you when we have a little more time. I’m sorry I’m always such a mess in the mornings.”
You shake your head quickly, brushing off her words. “Not at all! It’s always nice to greet the family before I start my day.”
She just smiles in response, turning to nod at you, and then she turns back to the fountain.
“I was a little surprised when you called the other day. I hope things are going okay.”
“They are,” you interrupt quickly. “They absolutely are. Joon is so pleasant, and the job is great. I really love it here.”
“I hope everything at home is okay,” she moves on to say, and you quickly reassure her.
“Yes, everything is fine! Everyone is doing great.”
“I understand,” Mrs. Lee says, eyeing the ground before turning to face you now. “You’ve done so much for us, I’d be lying if I said I’m not going to miss having you around here in the mornings.”
You shoot her a sympathetic look, feeling a pit form in your stomach, too. You feel the same, probably tenfold, at the idea of leaving behind the household you’ve called home for so many days.
“I’m going to miss it here, too.”
“And I know Joon is going to be heartbroken,” Mrs. Lee says with a chuckle.
You chuckle too, giving her an understanding nod.
She pauses briefly, furrowing her brows together, before continuing her speech.
“You’re such a bright young woman, and I know you’re destined to do amazing things. If there’s a way I can help in this transition, please don’t hesitate to let me know, okay?”
You nod at her words, and watch as she smooths down her top before standing up. She seems to wait for a moment, as if hoping for you to say something, and when you don’t, she begins to make her way back inside.
“Well, I’ll let you go for the evening. Thank you again, for everything. And you have my phone number if-”
“Mrs. Lee?” You call out suddenly, catching her before she can get much further. She turns around at the worry present in your voice, her face shifting into that of concern.
Without having to voice anything else, Mrs. Lee sits down again, waiting for you to continue. But you can’t, your heart beating wildly in your chest at the thought of even bringing up the topic of Minho. I’m in love with your son, you want to say to her. I’m so in love with Minho and I hope you understand I don’t have a choice but to leave this all behind me.
“You know,” Mrs. Lee interrupts your thoughts, breaking the silence that fills the air. “This koi fountain was my first gift from Mr. Lee.”
You nod at her, remembering when she introduced it to you on your first day here.
“We weren’t married yet. It was his first restoration project, and my dad hated him. So he had a lot of trouble getting it over to me.”
You chuckle lightly, amused at her story which seems to calm you down a little.
“Luckily his parents adored me,” she continues. “And they offered to house it in their backyard until we married. For the 15 years we dated, my koi fish lived in their garden. And when we did marry, they rented a big truck to help haul it over. It was such a project! But it’s my favorite part of the garden.”
You shoot her a saccharine smile, well endeared at the way she speaks of Mr. Lee. You can tell she’s in love with him, even this many years later.
“Sometimes I wondered why they would do something so nice for me. But as I grew closer to them, I learned not to question what was meant for me. They loved me, as did Mr. Lee. And I wasn’t going to run from any of that, no matter what I felt I deserved.”
Your head snaps in her direction at her last words, realizing how they apply to you. But she doesn’t know about Minho- at least not to your knowledge, or Minho’s. She gives you a sheepish smile as you furrow your brows, and then she takes your hand in hers, giving it a little squeeze.
“I hope you won't run from what you deserve, either.”
You nod a little bit at her words, finally understanding the weight of them, and then you look back at her with a confused expression.
“Mrs. Lee, are you talking about…”
“Minho?” She finally says, with a warm smile. She takes your other hand in hers, too, tilting her face to yours so that she’s making proper eye contact as she speaks.
“I had wondered why he was so happy these days. Minho’s always been a bit of an outcast. But I haven’t seen this spark in him since he started his obsession with all those romance novels and philosophy studies of his.”
You chuckle lightly, a weight off your shoulders as she finally speaks of what circles your mind so heavily.
“But how did you…”
“I knew it when I saw it,” she says. “I knew it, because he had the same look in his eyes as when I met his father.”
You feel your heart swell in your chest, your shoulders relaxing as she continues to speak.
“He speaks of you like poetry,” she tells you. “And for that alone, I’m thankful for you. Now what you choose to do is your decision- but I hope you know you will always have a home here with us. Not just as a babysitter, but as family.”
When Mrs. Lee finishes her speech, she gives your hands a little squeeze, smiling at you and back at the koi fish fountain. It feels much more sentimental to you even now, the beautiful waterfall that cascades serving as a reminder of its permanent restoration rooted in the infatuation Mr. Lee had for Mrs. Lee. And watching it stand so beautifully like it did all those years ago, you’re reminded that love can be a lasting thing, no matter the circumstances. The universe can condition itself to make things last, affirming the philosophical notions Minho’s always told you. And that perhaps you do deserve this, a sense of belonging here in the Lee household, right here alongside Mrs. Lee and Minho, and even baby Joon.
As you watch the fountain together, the sound of the sliding door makes itself known behind you, and you turn around to find Minho entering the garden, baby Joon sitting comfortably in his arms as he makes his way over.
“Hi,” Minho says, coming around to give Mrs. Lee a kiss on her cheek. “What’s going on here?”
He looks visibly worried, his eyes darting back and forth between you and Mrs. Lee, as if to silently ask you what she’s told you.
But Mrs. Lee just smiles at him, as she gets up from where she’s sitting and smooths down her jumpsuit.
“We were just having a girl chat. I’ll leave you two alone.”
And she disappears behind the screen door again, shooting you a little wink as she does, her anecdote circling your mind, still.
“What happened?” Minho asks, settling down next to you and balancing baby Joon on his knee. Joon fists at the fabric of his shirt, babbling incoherently as you smile down at him.
“Nothing,” you say, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. You refrain from saying anything about leaving, not wanting to interrupt the tender moment you share with Minho and Joon in the sunlight of the garden.
“You have a really cool mom,” you settle on saying, smiling at Minho as he chuckles softly in response.
*
The afternoon sun beams through the glass windows of the library as you lie comfortably in Minho’s lap, his book positioned in front of you as he presses a small kiss to the back of your hand before turning the page.
Outside, the birds chirp songs of early spring, the steady stream of Mrs. Lee’s koi fountain audible as you peer down at the garden.
Mr. and Mrs. Lee sit in the tall grass, fiddling with a box of tools as Mr. Lee repairs a new project for Mrs. Lee. This one’s a much larger fountain, one he’d told you would take several months, perhaps even years. But Mrs. Lee sits beside him, relishing in stories of his restoration process and laughing with him as he works. You can’t help but smile at the sight, her stories about him playing in your mind whenever you catch a glimpse of them together.
“Do you think they could be us in another universe?” You ask Minho, turning to face him as he peers out the window, too.
“I hope so,” he says with a smile.
You settle closer to him in his lap, pressing a small kiss to his hand as he continues reading.
“And think not that you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.”
At his words, you hear baby Joon cry out, having woken from his afternoon nap.
“I’ll get him,” Minho says, shutting the book and setting it aside to go tend to the baby.
And as you peer back out the window, the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Lee’s laughter filling your ears, baby Joon’s voice calling to you, Minho’s philosophy book perched on the chair beside you and the sun beams shining their light through the windows, you know that this is belonging, this is love.
#stray kids#skz smut#Lee Minho#Lee know#stray kids hard hours#Lee know smut#lee know scenarios#skz x reader#skz hard hours#stray kids x you#skz#fanfic#request#requests open#Spotify
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ghost would love having a housewife-
being able to love you is enough for him, and yet he still gets to come home to home cooked meals? and a cute decorated house? that man is folding.
he’d open the door and spot you in the kitchen, your hair falling perfectly around your face, aroma of the dish making the whole house smell good. he doesn’t say a word just rushes over to you and pulls you into a deep kiss.
it still takes you by surprise even though his reaction is a regular occurrence. you’ve just never met anyone as passionate as him.
ghost who is obsessed with calling you his wife, most of all in bed.
“yeah, love? that feel good? is my pretty little wife gonna cum?”
“what does my wife need, hm? need me to make you numb like last time? yeah, that’s what i thought.”
you try to respond, but you’re squeezed around him so tight, anything that leaves your mouth us incomprehensible.
#requests are open#simon riley#ghost simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#simon riley fanfic#simon riley fic#ghost smut#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you
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First Time (Arthur Harrow x Reader)
Requested by @sarasiadati-Hi can i ask for a fic harrow x reader (smut_romance_lemon) where its reader's first time and she is so afraid. But harrow take care of her and tickle her and her clit is her weakest spot . I love your writings😘 you are one out of ten😘😘
A/N-Finally another Arthur Harrow fanfic request all finished up. Sorry if I made you wait for this, but it was worth it trust me. As a heads up, I’m already in the process of making the next Character List so be on the lookout for an announcement/update. Also, I’m still playing catch up with other fanfic requests, so please be patient and give me time…
Other than that, please enjoy 🙂
Oh, and thank you for the compliment. It means so much to me that others, including you, enjoy my writings 😘💕
Warnings: FULL BLOWN SMUT, fluff, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, some fingering, slight orgasm, slight nudity, and some language
Citrus Scale: 🍋 (SMUT BELOW THE CUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!!!)
W.C+: 2.3K
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You’ve been with Arthur for two years now. Living happily together and doing everything together. Well, except for one thing. Neither of you had sex with one another. It was a topic that either of you have discussed about doing together as a couple. But there was one thing in the way of it. You were a virgin.
You’ve never had sex in your entire life. Never have you done it with anybody if you had been in a serious relationship. The only thing you’ve never thought of, until now.
It was nice and warm outside. The smell of Spring blew through the community living area, after it had got done raining. The Spring rain always had a lovely scent to it, even at night. You’ve opened the windows to your shared bedroom, as the rain slowed down a bit earlier. Little rain droplets plopping down onto the windowsill into little puddles of water.
The white window curtains blew swiftly in the night time breeze. Dancing along with the Spring air. You sat on the bed, across from the window reading one of your books. The bedroom was quite spacious for you and Arthur. You had your things and Arthur had his.
As you read, the breeze blew gently across your bare legs. You felt your skin prickle at the cool touch, making you shiver a bit. The only warmth you’ve had on was a baggy sweatshirt covering your entire upper body. The other piece of clothing you have on was a pair of pantties. You wore this to bed every night whenever it was nice out.
After you turned a page in your book, the sound of tapping cut through the silence. But you knew what that sound was. It was the sound of Arthur’s cane. The sound of it grew closer and closer towards the doorway.
The door to the bedroom creaked open as Arthur entered through the threshold. Closing your book now, you set it on the nightstand beside your side and turned to look over at Arthur.
Arthur looked graceful as ever. He turned to close and lock the door behind him, with his cane in the other hand. Looking over his shoulder, a smile spread across his lips and looked over you with his beautiful blue eyes. They glowed ever so brightly in the light.
“(Y/N),” he whispered, “you look so beautiful tonight.” He said, as he started to walk over to the bed. The tapping of the cane resumed on the stone tile floor.
“As ever,” you said back in a chipper tone. Arthur chuckled at the remark, “yes as ever.” He lowered himself and sat on the soft bed at last. Arthur hung his cane on the edge of the bedpost on the head board. Then he took off his sandals and placed them near his nightstand.
He turned himself over and laid on his side to face you. You could feel your heart fluttering, as Arthur looked upon you with his hungry eyes. “You look very stunning sitting like that next to me,” he breathed out. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment.
Then he slowly moved his hands over towards you, grabbing a hold of both of your sides, and pulled you over to him. You felt his fingers grip onto the cloth of your sweatshirt and feel the sheets beneath you glide against your bare skin.
You giggled and squealed a bit as he pulled you closer and closer to him. Finally within his grasp, Arthur started peppering your face and neck with a bunch of kisses. His lips ghosting your soft skin each time they left. It felt like he was devouring you with his love.
Squirming beneath his grasp, you couldn’t contain your playful and delighted giggles. Arthur lightly chuckled as continued to kiss you. After a few moments, he placed one final kiss on your soft and tender lips.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, “I couldn’t help but kiss you when I saw you just laying there. Always makes me smile, you know that,” he said as he ran his hand through your soft (H/C) hair. You loved it whenever Arthur played with your hair. Feeling his fingers run through the strands.
Your eyes fluttered, as his slender fingers entangled and wrapped themselves around the strands. “Oh (Y/N), you’re so beautiful. You and me, we belong together,” he said as he placed another kiss on your forehead. Arthur was right. The both of you belong to one another together.
“(Y/N),” he said, but with a normal tone, “I would like to try something new tonight with you.” You arched a brow at him and sat up against the headboard. Arthur removed his arms from you and returned them to his sides. “What would that be Arthur,” you asked with a curious tone.
It took him a few moments to think over what he was going to say to you. He was biting the edge of his lower lip and then licked them with his tongue. “We’ve been together for two years (Y/N). I think it’s time to try something new.”
“Like what exactly Arthur,” you asked, as you crossed your arms. Arthur continued to think for another moment. Whatever it was, he was being careful with what words to say to you. Arthur took several deep breaths at a time.
“(Y/N),” he said in a soft tone, “I want to have sexual intercourse with you.”
You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He finally said it. Arthur wants to have sexual intercourse with you now. You were fearing this would happen one day. You sat up quickly in surprise.
“Sexual intercourse,” you said in a surprised tone. You started fiddling with your fingers as your heart began racing inside your chest. “I-I-I don’t kn-kn-kn-know Arthur,” you began to stutter, “do you think it’s a good idea?” Asking him in a panicked calm manner.
He tilted his head to the side, looking a little confused by your answer. “What do you mean by that (Y/N),” he asked, pushing himself closer to you. Feeling very confused, you raced through your mind to find the right answer to that question, but nothing came out of your lips.
“It’s okay, you can tell me what it is.” He said in a softer tone. After several moments of thinking it over, you found what you were going to say. “Arthur,” you said slowly, “I’ve never had sex before.”
Arthur’s eyes widened with surprise from what you said. “You’ve never had sex before,” laughing a bit after asking you that question. You shook your head no. “Not once. Not with one person.”
Arthur still looked stunned at you. Flabbergasted more like it. He tried to laugh it off for a moment, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand. You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. “You don’t love me, do you Arthur,” you asked in a low voice, rolling over onto your side. Facing away from Arthur.
“No no no no no no no no, I didn’t say that,” Arthur defended his reaction, “I’m just shocked that’s all. I just didn’t know that about you.” He placed his hand on your shoulder. Reassuring you that he did nothing wrong to hurt your feelings.
You turned back over towards him, looking into his gentle blue eyes. “You mean it?” Asking him softly. He nodded his head, “Yes. I mean it.” Sitting back up against the headboard, you continued to gaze softly into his eyes.
“(Y/N). I’d like to try something with you.” You arched an eyebrow at him. “What is it Arthur?” Asking him in a much calmer manner than the first time. “Since you’ve never had sex before, I want to give you a headstart experience.” He began to motion you towards the middle of the bed.
“Arthur, what are you doing?” You asked in a curious voice. He began to softly shush you, “don’t worry my dear (Y/N), I’m going to be very gentle with you.”
You felt his hands rub up and down your bare legs, making you shiver beneath his delightful touch. Then you felt his hands go up to your hips, slipping his fingers beneath your pantties. Slowly, he began to pull them down your legs with his slender fingers.
The soft material glides across your skin, making your heart race a bit. Arthur was being careful with pulling down your pantties. Slipping them off over your feet carefully, Arthur held them by the edge and then tossed them over to the side of the bed.
His hands then began to trail back up over your legs, towards your thighs. Feeling his fingers moving around in circles against your cold skin. A sensation runs rampant through your veins, rushing towards your head.
You let a soft gasp as his hands and fingers moved around on your thighs. “You like that don’t you,” Arthur asked with a smile on his lips. You slowly nodded your head and whispered yes to him. He let out a light hearted chuckle.
Then he moved his hands towards your inner thighs. “Please hold still. This won’t hurt a bit,” he said as he started to move your legs apart slowly. Gently pushing them apart and spreading them out on the bed. The warmth of his hands sent another sensation across your body, pressing them against the soft flesh.
“My my. What a pretty thing we have here,” he said in amazement. Slowly, his right hand crawled towards your upper, inner thigh where your clit was. Once he stopped there, he started moving his two fingers around in small circles. Sorta tickling you in a way.
A small laugh escaped from your lips, making it tingle you almost. “You like that my dear,” Arthur asked in a curious manner, tilting his head to the side. “Yes. I do,” you said with a bright smile, “I’m very ticklish. Even down there.”
“Ticklish? I’ve had no idea,” he said with a devious smile. Still, he continued to move his fingers in circles on your clit. Making you laugh and gasp at the same time. “Let’s take this up a notch, shall we,” he said with a serious tone.
Moving his fingers away from your soft clit, he brushed them over your slick and wet folds. Another shiver went down your back, as you felt the tip of his fingers hovering above your opening. Making little circles around your soft area. Then, he started to slowly push his two fingers inside of you. Placing his other hand softly on your other thigh for a better grip.
A moan escaped from your lips, as his fingers began pumping in and out in a slow movement. You gripped onto the bedsheets with both hands, digging your fingers deep into the silk cloth.
“You’re loving this. I can see it,” he said in a playful tone. You nodded your head, as another moan came out. “Fuck.” You said in a low, soft tone. Arthur continued to push his two fingers deeper into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said repeataly under your breath.
What was this sensation you were feeling? You felt your face flush and eyes fluttering. Heart racing like a running rabbit. Hands continued to grip onto the sheets.
“Alright my dear. Let’s try something you’ll really enjoy,” he said as he pulled his two fingers out. An emptiness filled you once his fingers left your slick folds. Like a hole caving into your empty stomach. You were very breathless. Breathing in and out slow and fast at times.
Lifting your head up from the headboard, Arthur got onto his knees and began to pull his pants down. As he did, another gasp came out of your lips. Once they were pulled down, you saw something graceful. His cock.
It was a normal length, but looked a bit bigger and longer. His cock rested between his two legs and upon neatly trimmed hair.
Arthur’s pants dropped down to his knees and slowly slid out of them. He then threw them off to the side of the bed where your panties landed. Your heart began pounding much faster, as you looked upon his naked lower form.
Grabbing a hold of your legs again, he slowly pulled you down towards him. You felt the sheets slide against your bare skin. Your entire body going limp, as you laid beneath him now. “Now hold still my dear, I won’t hurt you.” Arthur said, as he lowered himself onto you.
First, you felt the tip of his cock brush up against your slick folds and then he thrust it into you. A loud and deep moan came out of you at last. Pushing deeper and deeper inside your opening. Arthur let out a soft groan from his thin lips, making another push into you.
Both your hands lost their grip on the bedsheets and became numb. Then lifting them up, you wrapped both arms around Arthur’s thick waist. Locking them with your still numb hands.
Another loud moan came out as Arthur thrusts into you again. “That’s right. Take it in slowly my dear (Y/N).” He whispered in your ear. A fiery sensation burned through your entire body. But what was it though? This made you breathless thinking about it. Your heart was racing faster than ever. It felt like a bird trying to escape from a cage that won’t unlock or open up.
Still, having this moment with your love Arthur, made it more special for you in every way. Having sexual intercourse for the first time with him made you dizzy and amazed at the same time. Everything felt great for you now. You weren’t afraid anymore.
Having this very special moment with Arthur made everything lighter for you to feel with your whole body. Every single nerve made you tired, but you’ve still got some energy left for the rest of the night.
You want to feel more from Arthur. Now you’ve had something special happen with you and it was with somebody you’ll love for eternity for teaching you this moment in life and in your everlasting relationship.
#Arthur Harrow#arthur harrow x reader#arthur harrow x y/n#arthur harrow x you#arthur harrow x female reader#arthur harrow x fem!reader#arthur harrow fanfiction#arthur harrow fanfic#Moon Knight#moon knight fanfiction#moon knight fanfic#Character x Reader#fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction blog#fanfic blog#fanfiction request#Requested Fanfic#requested fanfiction#x reader#x reader fanfiction#x reader fanfic#x female reader#x female y/n#x female you
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❝ the stylist chair ❞
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° synopsis
the job description didn’t mention meeting an angel in person.
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° genre & tags
fluff / idol!jeonghan / stylist!reader / mutual pining / hannie is a little flirty / perhaps light swearing as usual / does breaking out of your shell around someone count as character development? / feelings are difficult
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° pairing
jeonghan x afab!reader
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° w.c
4.9k words
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° author’s note
this was requested by anon! thank you for requesting (: // i’m not a make-up artist nor do i do make-up at all on myself so don’t come for me if stuff is wrong
˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ now loading… enjoy! ꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄
“You start your new job today, right?” Your mother chirped up on the other end of the phone, ignorant to the fact you were trying to multitask - and failing miserably. It wasn’t supposed to be difficult, not exactly anyway but for some reason you always found ways to make the simplest things harder for yourself. Gathering paperwork, your portfolio and also choosing an outfit for your first day? Perhaps you’d given yourself too many tasks.
“Uhh - yeah, some boy group...” you mumbled, sifting through your files case to find the right paperwork, not really paying attention to the conversation, “they recently had a stylist go on maternity leave... needed a filler.”
Your mother laughed softly through the phone speaker and you could picture her shaking her head as you swore quietly, completely in your own world.
“I’ll leave you be, call me later! Good luck sweetie, they’ll love you!” You weren’t sure how your mother was so cheerful this early in the morning as you barely had wiped the sleep from your eyes. You hummed, acknowledging her absence as the call ended. Throwing your phone onto your bed, freshly made, you took a deep breath.
It wasn’t a good idea to get so worked up before your first day at a new job, you couldn’t turn up in a foul mood - and what if things went wrong during the day? You didn’t need the added stress on top of that. This whole paperwork stuff wasn’t that important for your first day anyway, just some bank information that they could receive another day. Standing from your kneeling position next to your bed, your eyes turned towards the state of your wardrobe on the far side of the wall - there was more pressing matters to attend to.
-
Dressed in the comfiest clothes you could pick up without sifting through your dirty washing, you turned up to the Pledis building with minutes to spare. You were met by another young woman, dressed just as slack as you - a sigh of relief, if you say so yourself. You hadn’t underdressed nor overdressed for the occasion. You wasn’t too sure what was too little here, after all you were now a stylist for a multi-million dollar earning boy group, topping the charts worldwide. They could be specific about their stylists and how they look, you didn’t know otherwise. This was the first big job you’d landed.
Her name was Sooyeon, she gave you a big beaming smile when you walked into the reception, her hands clasped in front of her and a few tattoos sneaking out from under her sleeves. She had dyed her hair following the split hair trend, proudly wearing pink and black on her hair.
“You must be y/n?” She spoke softly as you approached, her eyes disappearing into creases with her smile, “it’s lovely to meet you.”
“You too.” You responded politely, not interested in making enemies on your first day. Yet as Sooyeon gestured her head for you to follow, you couldn’t dream of ever wanting to make enemies with her.
“Perfect timing, by the way,” Sooyeon hummed as you both stepped into the elevator, your eyes watching her press the buttons, “they have a schedule today so we’ll be leaving soon. You can help us finish packing our things while we wait for them all.”
-
You’d prepped everything well at the makeshift vanity the recording show had shoved into the dressing room. You’d lined up his make-up perfectly and you’d stared over the descriptive sheet of the desired look for today’s schedule over fifty times. Yet you still hadn’t met him, let alone seen his face. Sooyeon said his name was Jeonghan - apparently mischievous and you should be aware of his pranks. Cringing slightly, you wondered why he had to be the member who was filling in the stylist for.
A soft tap sounded on the open door behind you, causing you to whip around startled by the sudden sound in your silence. There was a gentle chuckle, almost angelic and you paused, staring the man in the face. Was that an angel? He gifted you a small smile, glimpsing his white teeth.
“You’re Hana’s temporary then?” He spoke up, respectful as he lingered by the open door, “my name is Jeonghan - what’s yours?”
The words made you freeze as you stuttered your words a little, unable to find the will to speak as you looked down at your feet.
“Y/n,” you uttered barely and Jeonghan still seemed to catch it, nodding, “I-uh, come in - I can’t do your make-up standing.”
Jeonghan chuckled once more, sauntering to the chair you’d been provided and sitting quietly. You admired the black shade of dye the staff had used on him and how well it complimented him and his skin tone before you turned to your things, humming to yourself as you got started on his make-up. He sat quietly, not battering an eyelid nor speaking to distract you. This was supposed to be the mischievous man? The one you was supposed to be careful of his pranks? You almost scoffed jokingly but you held it in, letting it crack a small smile onto your lips instead. Jeonghan didn’t miss it as you worked carefully on his eyeshadow.
“Thinking of anything interesting?” He mused, causing you to tense before you mentally shook the feeling from your body. You might as well small talk with him, you weren’t sure if you could manage if you made things awkward with him.
“Sooyeon told me to be careful of your pranks,” you admitted quietly as you paused his make-up to move your hair behind your ears, “but I can’t picture you being the type to prank people.”
He was quiet and you wondered if you’d said something wrong. With a beating heart, you chewed the inside of your cheek. How could you be so stupid this soon into the job? But moments later, he laughed once more - that sweet, angelic laugh.
“With my members, maybe,” Jeonghan hummed, closing his eyelid for you obediently when you gave the command with your hand, “they call me the mother of the group. I don’t think I could prank my stylists, you guys work too hard already.”
“Mother of the group?” You quirked a brow and Jeonghan’s laugh turned nervous, “are you the oldest?”
“No, second oldest,” his lips curved into a smile, “Seungcheol is our eldest.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You quickly stepped back, staring at him in panic as he stared up at you - perhaps just as shocked by your sudden raise of your voice, “I’ve been speaking informally this whole time!”
His shoulders relaxed from where he had tensed up, his head hanging momentarily as he let out a sigh of relief.
“Don’t ever do that to me again holy fuck...” He was quick to laugh again, shaking his head before looking back up at you. You furrowed your brows, glancing amongst his expression to try read his emotions.
“You’re not mad?” You asked quietly, blinking. It was Jeonghan’s turn to furrow his brows, shaking his head.
“Did you think I’d get you fired or something?” He taunted, a smile curving his lips again, “relax, Sooyeon got you tense with that huh.”
You pursed your lips, too stubborn to announce he was in fact correct. Jeonghan saw it in your face, especially with the way your eyes darted away from him and towards the make-up products you had littered in front of him. He was quick to notice your bad habit of chewing your lip, something you’d been trying to work on for years. Your mother advised you to chew ice but was what you supposed to do, carry a bag of ice around with you?
He looked down at his hands, an amused smile tugging his lips as he held back a chuckle, fiddling with the rings adorning his fingers instead.
-
You shoved some rice into your mouth, followed closely by some vegetables as you sat once more with Sooyeon at the small table. Seventeen were currently in the midst of their schedule, busy in front of the cameras. It felt wrong to be behind the scenes, watching them in person as you ate your lunch but you soon realised this was your reality - like a front row seat. No matter how much you tried to distract yourself, perhaps by thinking of what you’d be having for dinner that night or what time you should ring your mother later, you couldn’t get over your interaction with Jeonghan prior to this moment - your first interaction at that.
And no matter how hard you tried to hide the tingly butterfly feeling in your tummy you got whenever you looked in Jeonghan’s direction, Sooyeon could see right through you like a window - on your first day at the job nonetheless. Your eyes fell back to Jeonghan before they slowly made their way down to your lunch. Sooyeon ran her tongue over her teeth, a cheeky grin growing on her face.
“That bad, huh?” Sooyeon teased, her voice low to stop any involvement from other staff. You blinked, confused as you stared at her. If you did say so yourself, your act was brilliant. Sooyeon wished she could snap a photo of your face on the other hand.
“What do you mean?” You mumbled, turning your face back towards your food as gradual embarrassment loomed over your figure like a thundering black cloud. You could try shove your face with rice as much as you wanted but it wouldn’t hide the fact that you should have paid more attention in drama class and the thought made you squeeze your eyes shut.
“You won’t stop looking at him, y/n,” Sooyeon began again, basically whispering as she shuffled her things closer to you so your arms were touching. In your personal bubble, Sooyeon had all the control as her eyes glossed over the red hues in your cheeks, she knew it, “I know you don’t care about him ruining the make-up.”
Puffing your cheeks, you leaned back in your chair to try escape Sooyeon’s suffocating presence by your side but alas it was all for nothing. The wide grin on her face, the way she kept glancing between Jeonghan and yourself - it was all over. Raising your bottle of water to your lips, you figured the only way out of this was to play it cool.
“Script says they’ll be eating bibimbap in approximately ten minutes, not to mention the heat in here with no air conditioning? I can see his forehead shining from here,” you sighed, chopsticks back in your hand as you proceeded to ignore the way Sooyeon huffed and pouted, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating Sooyeon on my first day?”
Sooyeon grumbled under her breath, playing with her food before the room erupted into conversation and staff yelling commands - not to mention Seventeen’s own loud presence approaching their make-up artists. Jeonghan wore a smile as he approached, his aura radiating light-heartedness with a hint of tired. You stood from your seat within moments of noticing him, causing him to tut.
“Sit down, will you?” He laughed, shaking his head as he pulled out the empty chair beside you, his eyes glancing at how close Sooyeon was sitting next to you, “finish your lunch first, there’s no need to rush.”
Your tongue poked your cheek, hands a little shaky at the situation as you lowered yourself back into the chair. Your initial plan was to shuffle away from Sooyeon once you’d finished Jeonghan’s touch up but now you were stuck in the midst of either being too close to Jeonghan or being too close to Sooyeon - neither of which you fancied right now.
“Alright, okay.” You muttered, picking your chopsticks up once again as you quietly began to eat once more. Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, thumbing through his phone as he waited patiently for you to finish your lunch. Despite him saying there was no rush, you had in fact rushed what was left of your rice and vegetables, cleaning up your mess quickly so that you could get to work.
Jeonghan didn’t fail to notice, his eyes borderline rolling into the back of his head as you leaned to reapply his lip tint, your finger dabbing his lips ever so gently. You couldn’t deny you needed to look into this brand, the lip tint did an amazing job of somehow making his lips look so plump. You paused. What the hell was you thinking? Jeonghan watched as you blinked, a little frozen before moving away from him again, fetching a clean applicating cushion and gently tapping away at his skin, removing the drops of sticky sweat he’d gathered on his forehead.
“How are you feeling?” Jeonghan asked suddenly as you was cleaning up what you’d used, causing you to glance at him.
“Hm?” You hummed, raising a brow as you sat back in your chair. Heat rushed to your cheeks but it seemed to affect your whole body, suffocating you in a tight hug.
“We’re suffering in these loose outfits, how are you feeling in a hoodie?” Jeonghan reiterated, his eyes glancing you once over in your hoodie and jeans, “I can ask the staff to get you a fan.”
“It’s fine, I promise,” you laughed, shaking your head as you waved him off. Jeonghan scowled, “you guys haven’t got long left, I’ll live.”
-
Kicking off your sneakers that night, you’d never flopped onto your bed so quickly. Admittedly, you’d long shrugged off the hoodie you’d worn all day in a sweaty environment, leaving you in your sports bra as you laid beneath your air conditioning, soaking in the cool atmosphere in comparison to what you’d be in all day. Of course, it wouldn’t be long before you found yourself in the shower but for a moment, all your aching legs and sticky skin wanted to do was lay there and bask in what you’d been waiting for all day - the comfort of your own apartment.
In the midst of poor clothing choices, no air conditioning and stuffy rooms full of staff, you also had your tricky dilemma involving Sooyeon’s awful invasion of privacy and Jeonghan’s teasing nature. Swallowing the tough lump in your throat, you debated admitting your sins to Sooyeon - specifically the one about Jeonghan’s lips but you gathered you’d never hear the end of it, especially with the whole “first day on the job” shit.
-
The dilemma faded perhaps after two days. Sooyeon brought all the lies you’d tattled, which you thought was odd considering it was like she was looking through a window when she looked at you but you didn’t complain - at least she was no longer grinning like the Cheshire cat in your ear about looking at Jeonghan. It was peace of mind that you could go about your job without dating scandals, you figured his fans would pull that for you let alone without Sooyeon’s help.
“Something on your mind today?” Jeonghan perked up from where he sat with his eyes shut, your finger dusting a shimmery powder onto your eyelids. He hadn’t missed how quiet you’d been since you’d started his make-up for today’s photoshoot. Of course, you’d uttered your hellos and how are yous but nothing more extensive like you had on your first day. He’d never admit it but Jeonghan was slightly concerned he’d said something wrong or put you in an awkward position.
“Not really,” the lie slipped from your mouth instantly without a second thought, “I feel like I have no interesting conversation topics for you, is all.”
Jeonghan chuckled a little, opening his eyes the moment you mumbled to say you were done with his eye make-up. They followed you and your every movement as you packed away the make-up you’d just used and instead got out the lip tint you’d be using that day. Your hands were gentle, never roughly grabbing anything and always putting things away neatly like it was jenga. He hadn’t failed to miss the small things you did like the way you stuck your tongue out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrated or the way you’d twizzle the ring your mother gifted you as a graduation present while you were bored behind the scenes.
“What, have we spoke about everything in the world in two days?” Jeonghan scoffed lightly, amused nonetheless that you’d avoided speaking to him, “tell me about you.”
Your finger froze, hovering just above his lips as you once more found yourself in a predicament with this man. Clicking your tongue, you shook your head and continued applying the lip tint.
“What’s there to know? I work as a make-up artist and my name is y/n.” The words were a little sharp but you were getting defensive over Jeonghan’s need to know about you and Jeonghan was finding it ever so amusing as he watched the tiny little flame flicker in your eyes.
“Do you have any siblings? Where’s your mom and dad? Do you own any pets?” Jeonghan blurted out a series of questions, ones you should have known was coming but you couldn’t help but sigh as you turned away to put the lip tint in your case.
“Are you writing my biography?” You quirked a brow as you found yourself looking at him behind you in the mirror. Jeonghan stared back confidently, a sly smirk on his face.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, “the extravagant life of y/n l/n.” His hands acted as if he was reading it on a billboard in New York City, chuckling as you scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Extravagant? You mean boring.” You uttered, taking a baby wipe out of a packet to rub off the make-up on your hands. Jeonghan jutted out his lower lip that you wasn’t finding his biography act amusing.
“Well, I’m the one writing the biography and you never answered my questions,” he huffed in a slight tantrum, “so how am I supposed to know whether I can title it extravagant or not?”
“We don’t have the time for-” Jeonghan broke you off, grabbing your wrist as you attempted to walk past him. Your eyes met as he stared up at you, “we have ten minutes until I have to go.”
-
He was a pain in more than one location, you thought as you swallowed a painkiller to cope with your cramps. You were waiting for him to turn up but today you weren’t so sure if you wanted to cope with his personality whilst it felt like a knife was being turned in your stomach. Yet the door opened wide before it shut again, his lanky figure sauntering over to the chair you’d set out for him. Your hand reached to shove the packet of painkillers back into your bag but Jeonghan caught sight of them sooner than you thought.
“Is everything okay?” His brows furrowed as he stood before you, suddenly refusing to sit down as your knees almost buckled beneath you, “why didn’t you call in sick?”
“Because I’m not sick now sit down,” you mumbled, turning to gather your things as usual but Jeonghan hadn’t seated himself, “it’s just cramps - you know, that monthly stuff you guys hate.”
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan chuckled with a shake of his head, bringing over another chair, “I’d hardly call those types guys, take a seat.”
“I can’t sit down I have to do your make-up.” You argued and Jeonghan rolled his eyes, finally sitting in his seat.
“Duh that’s your job but not today,” he hummed, looking over the stuff you’d laid out as he tucked his chair closer to the mirror, “sit down and talk me through it, I’ll do it today.”
You opened your mouth to speak but suddenly you buckled, falling back into the chair Jeonghan had fetched as another sharp jabbing pain hit you in the abdomen. Jeonghan glanced at you in the mirror, “that’s why.”
Frowning, you watched his pale fingers drift among the products you used on him, clicking his tongue.
“There’s so many,” Jeonghan laughed a little at this and you couldn’t help but crack a smile, “you start with something on my face, right? Which one is it?”
“That bottle on the far left, it’s a little messy because it spills in my case,” your voice was meek as you grimaced at the pains kicking your ass, “why are you caring for me?”
“You forget that you’re Hana’s temporary because she’s on maternity leave - right? I’ve cared for a pregnant lady up until she was too far gone to keep working, I know what you guys’ bodies is like,” Jeonghan hummed, his eyes watching his hands as he carefully applied the liquid like you’d told him, “Hana always said these times of the month were your bodies being angry you didn’t give them a child - so I told her it must be happy now she’s pregnant.”
The realisation hit you once more than you were only with Jeonghan a temporary amount of time, like a sand timer as you watched his movements carefully.
“Do you miss Hana?” You asked quietly and Jeonghan glanced at you in the mirror, pausing your actions.
“What, think I don’t like you and I prefer Hana or something?” Jeonghan mused, not answering your question. You pouted and he rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his make-up.
-
Jeonghan had almost became a friend in the midst of you standing over him applying weird feeling liquids and powders to his face practically daily. Yet somehow you’d both managed to carry the most tense, awkward aura when you were together and it was always ten times worse when you had to be in his face and touching his lips - your mother called it sexual tension but you brushed her off saying there was nothing happening between the two of you. You could basically see her smiling through the phone when you said that.
Today was like every other day with you sat in your chair devouring your lunch while Jeonghan was hard at work across the room. Today was an interview, mainly for promoting Seventeen’s latest comeback but you didn’t miss how weird the questions were - specifically when the MC asked “where’s your favourite place?” but you shrugged it off as wanting to get a vibe of what each member was like off camera.
But as you scooped rice into your mouth - sort of like a vaccuum - it became Jeonghan’s turn and you listened carefully to the angelic laugh he let out from across the room before he admitted his ‘favourite place’ was in fact the stylist chair. The words caused you to freeze on the spot, like you had turned to stone in Medusa’s presence and Sooyeon caught it all with her eyes like a high definition camera.
“Y/n?” She whispered, her voice for once not teasing you as her eyes fell to the way you’d become a statue. She waved her hand in front of your face, watching as you blinked your now dry eyes and slowly turned to her.
“Did he say that?” You mumbled and Sooyeon slowly nod, her eyes glancing across the large warehouse-like room to where Jeonghan sat.
“Girl...” Sooyeon cracked a small smile, nudging you with her elbow, “and he’s looking this way right now.”
-
The next day you couldn’t even utter a word in his direction let alone look at him as he walked into the room, whistling a tune as if nothing had happened - to him maybe it hadn’t. He’d perhaps admitted he found the stylist chair comforting because you allowed him to be a human with no cameras for some time or because you shared jokes and acted like a friend. Definitely not for the reasons you’d been listing in your head ever since he said it.
Jeonghan glanced at you before glossing his eyes over your outfit choice - you were wearing the hoodie you’d worn weeks ago on your first day, the one that suffocated you with no air conditioning. His tongue reached out to wet his lips as he sat in the chair you stood beside, a smile growing on his face at your stubbornness when it regarded this hoodie.
“Any specific reason I’m getting silent treatment? Or is there a lack of content for the biography again?” He hadn’t let go of that stupid biography skit and he used it consistently when he was in the stylist chair to make you spew information about yourself. He loved it, he loved listening to you speak about yourself. Sometimes when you gossiped over little details, he would watch the sparkle in your eyes and he’d never miss how excited you got to discuss certain topics - one of these was your childhood pets.
“Are you ignoring what you said yesterday or was it a fever dream?” You finally spoke, your throat a little raspy because you’d spent the last night screaming into your pillow crying out of stress that you didn’t know what his intentions were with that interview. Jeonghan let out a small “aaaah..”
“Is that bothering you so much?” He taunted, turning to face your beet red face stood beside him, “is there a problem with me liking this chair so much? Sitting in your company and enjoying you as a person?”
“Stop saying that shit,” you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, “I’m your make-up artist for fucks sake.”
“So?” Jeonghan mumbled, mimicking your attitude by folding his arms across his chest - you narrowed your eyes at this, “maybe I don’t want you to just be my make-up artist, y/n but your stubborn ass is going to throw a fit about that, isn’t it?”
It didn’t go straight over your head but boy, you wanted it to. You stared at him, the muscles of your arms relaxing involuntarily as the room went silent between you. It was thick with a tense atmosphere that you could slice with a knife like cake. Jeonghan chewed at his tongue, already regretting his words when you took longer than a few seconds to respond. There’s no way he meant it like that, right? Maybe he just wanted to exchange instagram usernames so you could be friends outside of work - but that felt like a crime in itself.
“What?” You whispered, unsure how to feel but maybe that was because there was a million thoughts bouncing around in your head that you couldn’t even focus on the way Jeonghan had made his lower lip bleed under the pressure of his teeth. He rubbed his clammy hands onto his jeans, trying to dry them as if he wasn’t physically sweating from announcing a workplace crush.
“You know exactly what I was doing with the biography bullshit y/n,” Jeonghan sighed as if he was annoyed with himself that he’d been caught in the act, “I wanted to know so much about you because every time you spoke about yourself, I could admire your actions and the way you reacted. I got to watch you lick your lips when you’d made them dry from talking so much about your favourite vinyl record. All the tiny little things about you I learnt in this chair - because you wouldn’t open up to me without some jokey skit covering my curiosity and I fell in love with everything.”
There was that thick suffocating silence again, sending both Jeonghan and your own mind racing as you stared at each other again. Your eyes were going dry and the stinging pain caused you to sharply turn away, blinking furiously as your eyes began to water in response to your stupid actions.
“I think maybe we need to speak about this outside of work?”
-
The front door opened and you furrowed your brows from where you stood in the kitchen, slicing up celery and numerous other vegetables for the dinner you were preparing. There was only one person who had a key to your apartment and it certainly wasn’t your mother because you’d left your front door locked after you came home from work that morning. You’d been at work prior to do Jeonghan’s make-up as usual and then after shooting, you’d come home early - this was one of the much rarer days where you had such a freedom. Jeonghan had dance practise after the photoshoot and you knew damn well he didn’t need make-up for that.
Lanky arms wrapped around your waist and the grin grew on your face almost immediately at the sickening sweet smell of his cologne washing over you.
“I see you’ve taken to letting yourself into my apartment,” you mused teasingly, focusing on the vegetables, “how was practise?”
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against your back as he leaned down to press a kiss to your head.
“Well, you did give me a key,” Jeonghan taunted and you admit, you scowled despite the fact he was very correct, “Hana visited us to show us her little newborn, he was so cute!”
“I bet he was loud too.” You hummed, scooping the sliced vegetables into the saucepan on your right. Jeonghan made a soft noise as if he was thinking.
“I think Seungkwan and Soonyoung might have been louder...”
#berriesandjunnie#m: yoon jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#Seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#Seventeen Jeonghan#Svt#svt scenarios#svt fluff#svt jeonghan#Requested Fanfic#Idol!AU#afab!reader
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CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT MATT AND HIS GF, THEY HAVE SEX AT A RESTAURANT, SHES SITTING ON HIS LAP AND COCKWARMING AND THEN THEY HAVE CAR SEX AND CHRIS CATCHES THEM THEN WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE HOUSE CHRIS FUCKS MATTS GF VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SMUT FILLED
PURE ECSTASY (part one)
read part two here
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!soft dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a friend throws a birthday party at the club, but the night doesn’t end there. or with your boyfriend.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight spit kink, oral (female receiving), getting caught, fingering, finger sucking, cheating (please don’t!), degradation, spanking, choking, sex tape, hair pulling, daddy kink, dumbification, overstimulation, breeding, begging kink, stomach bulge, ROUGHHH ASF
THIS IS NOT A THREESOME!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,017
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS REQUEST😟 (i love it) my new favorite fic holy moly it’s also ovulation week and when that happens i become one with the smut.
hope it’s okay that it’s at a club except restaurant!
for @sturniololovers :)
chatter fills around the booth, and the group gets ready to sit. it’s your friend’s 21st birthday, and of course she chose a club. the volume of the music and drunk people around make it extremely loud that you have to scream to talk to somebody.
purple, blue, and pink lights illuminate throughout the place, and the dance floor is packed with people. most of your friend group already made it to the bar or by the DJ, including nick, madi, and nate. chris sets his jacket down by everybody else’s stuff.
“i’m going to get a pepsi and join the others on the floor. you guys staying here?” he talks over the music, pointing behind him.
“for now.” matt replies, for some reason shimmying in his seat slightly. you shake it off as he tries to get comfortable, waving at chris as he walks off.
the two of you talk, some friends coming and going from the booth to put drinks down or mingle with you guys.
you lean into matt’s side, smiling at what he’s saying. he places his hand on your thigh, making you nuzzle into him more. “sit on my lap.” he says abruptly.
you’re confused, but lift yourself off of the seat to slide yourself to hover over your boyfriend’s lap. he guides your hips down, and you gasp from the sudden stretch.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
his pants were just past his dick, the thing that your sitting on right now. you feel it growing inside you, cockwarming him in the middle of the club. “matt, we’re in public.” you whine.
he only shrugs. the dress you’re wearing is long enough to cover your sides, so if somebody looks over it seems that you’re innocently sitting on his lap.
“love the way you feel.” he groans in your ear, subtly squeezing your tit.
you glance around mortified, wondering if people can see you. the spot you guys chose is against the wall in the back, but it’s not like you’re invisible. “ride my cock, baby.”
this is crazy you think, but still grip onto the edge of the table anyway. you’ve learned your lesson multiple times before whenever you disobeyed matt, and if you did this time, he’ll likely spread you out on the table and fuck you so everybody can purposely see.
you start by grinding, gasping whenever his girth rubs against your walls. the way he feels already has you clenching. your arousal starts to coat his base, a sign for you to start bouncing.
not so hard, but softly. the grip you have on the table help you steady yourself. you can feel your face turning red, still looking around the club through your lashes. you like the thrill of somebody seeing you guys, but it’s also horrifying.
your head falls between your shoulders to hide your face of pleasure. moans lowly fall from your mouth, your eyes rolling back each time his tip brushes against your g-spot. “o-oh, matt, baby.” you moan in a high pitch, biting your lip when somebody walks by.
thank the lord people are too tipsy or distracted to look over here. you shake in his lap, another pitched moan flowing through the air. you exhale, lifting your head so it rests on the side of matt’s cheek.
he kisses your temple. “go ahead, baby. cum on my cock.”
whimpering, your orgasm washes through your body and onto his dick. you sigh of relief, catching your breath at the same time. “gonna cum in this beautiful cunt.” matt grunts when he twitches inside you.
you squirm, mumbling something along the lines of it spilling out of you. “don’t worry about that, honey. i’ll take care of it soon.”
the bottom of your dress is hoisted past your stomach, matt’s hold on your legs firm as you’re spread out in the backseat of the minivan.
by ‘taking care of it soon’, he meant cleaning it up for you.
the club’s music still bumps to the beat of the song it’s playing, even if you guys are in the parking lot.
you twitch beneath him, your eyes crossing and mouth agape. his tongue works wonders between your legs. you still feel sensitive from your previous orgasm from inside the club, the same orgasm that leaks around his lips as he digs into your needy hole.
soft moans and whimpers escape you, the windows fogging up from the heavy breathing and sweat.
he pulls away, bringing his face to hover over yours. he’s smiling foolishly at your trance. your arousal glistens around his mouth, his hair disheveled. “think you can take me again?”
you grip onto his biceps when he starts railing into you, your face scrunching up. you squeeze your eyes shut, but they open as soon as his hand grabs your jaw. “open your mouth.”
you obey, and he spits in it before kissing you open-mouthed. he consumes your sounds, the way your bodies are conjoined causes a slap noise every time his hips meet your pelvis.
bang bang bang.
the both of you jump at the fist hitting against the window, stopping in position. even though the windows are fogged, matt can tell who it is.
he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “what do you want, chris? we’re kind of in the middle of something, here.”
“stop fucking and open the goddamn door. i need my chapstick.” there’s silence. “and don’t be naked.”
matt pulls your dress down, zippering his pants. he crawls to the front seat to unlock the door.
the door immediately swings open, chris leaning on the passenger's side to grab his chapstick that’s in the cup holder.
you tap your fingers on your chest, patiently waiting for this weird encounter to be over. you see chris in your vision, looking at you. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes scan your body, but you’re not entirely sure.
“sorry to break this up but you guys need to head back in. everybody’s looking for you,” he says before leaving.
what a buzzkill.
lil skies music blasts throughout the house, scaring you awake from your sleep. it’s the early morning, around 3 AM.
you’re spending the night at the triplet’s house, your dress now substituted with one of matt’s shirts. you must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because once you adjust to the dark you realize you’re in the living room.
you check your phone, squinting at the sudden brightness.
my boy💙
went out on a long drive, i’ll pick up some mcdonald’s when i’m on my way back :)
2:47 AM
and you know nick’s staying over at madi’s tonight, so the culprit for the disruption is no other than chris sturniolo.
you groggily lift yourself off the couch, shuffling your way down the hall. you don’t bother knocking, and you make your way into chris’s room. his back is facing you, the tone in his muscles showing.
you clench your thighs without knowing.
he’s doing something on his phone when you mumble, but he clearly can’t hear you.
“can you turn that down? i’m trying to sleep,” you say louder, and he turns his head to you. he pauses the music, walking over.
“what?”
“please lower that. you woke me up,” you say lowly, staring at your feet.
he chuckles. “sorry.”
he takes his finger and lifts your chin so you look at him, his eyes set on your mouth as he takes his thumb and grazes it over your bottom lip. “you’re not as much of a prude as i thought.”
“e-excuse me?!” you stutter shockingly, another chuckle coming from the boy.
“you think i don’t know that you rode my brother in the middle of the club? then you guys went to the car to finish the job, no?”
your face goes pale. you understand how he knows about the car since he caught you guys, but not when you were at the club.
“h-how do you—”
“i observe.” he cuts you off. “i watched the way you bounced on his dick. can’t forget the pretty sounds i heard from the cracked window matt forgot to close.”
your cheeks become hot, your thighs yet again squeezing tight.
“thank you.” chris smiles at the bartender, spinning himself in the barstool to look around the club. this isn’t quite his scene, but he couldn’t miss out on a friend’s birthday.
he sips his pepsi, his elbow resting on the bar’s surface before landing his eyes on where your guy’s seats are.
you’re bouncing subtly on matt’s lap, face turning in different expressions.
chris grabs his crotch, his dick twitching in his pants as it threatens to grow at the sight. he’s not stupid and knows exactly what you’re doing.
his brother whispers something into your ear before placing you back next to him and taking your hand to walk out of the building.
he waits a few minutes before following you guys, leaving a tip for the bartender before doing so.
the van catches his eye instantly, the windows slowly becoming fogged and moans echoing in the air. your moans, the moans he wants to cause more than anything.
his plan to not get hard fails when his pants tighten, the sinful sounds becoming more intense when the car starts to rock.
before he knows it, he’s jogging over and banging on the window.
“you-you pervert!” you shout, wanting to remove chris’ stupid thumb from your lips; but you don’t. he hums, leaning to where his lips ghost yours.
“yet you’re turned on by it.” he whispers. “you’re telling me you’re not dripping between your legs right now?”
“i-i’m not.”
he takes his other hand and reaches under the shirt, his theory confirmed true.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
the same smirk matt had in the club when he realized you were bare underneath. your boyfriend matt. his fucking brother.
pull yourself together, y/n.
“you sure?” chris says, passionately connecting his lips with yours. he rubs two fingers on your slick slit, your breath hitching.
pull. yourself. together. y/n.
he rubs once more before inserting the fingers into you, making you break the kiss and moan pathetically.
the thumb that was on your lip now goes into your mouth, and you suck on it. your hands bunch on his chest.
he lifts one of your legs to make his fingers plunge deeper into you, curling to hit the right spot. the leg he’s holding quivers desperately. “is the needy bitch going to cum on my fingers?”
you hum approvingly on his thumb before he removes it, your eyes never leaving contact with his. you tense, smearing your white liquid on his fingers.
brain foggy, you grumble two syllables. he heard you right, but wants to hear it loud and clear. “what was that?”
“fuck me.”
because he certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, he picks you up and props your ass up on his mattress.
he unties his plaid pajama bottoms, grabs your neck, and shoves your face into the pillows. he smacks your ass. hard.
“such a bad girl.” he slaps again, aligning his tip with your entrance. “gonna let me fuck you, even though you’re dating my brother.”
he spanks you three more times, tears building up in your eyes from the pleasurable pain. you grip onto the pillows when he starts to slowly fill you.
you utterly hate to admit this, but he’s bigger than matt. you gasp loudly, your pussy morphing into the shape of his dick when he’s in.
he throws his head back, eyes closed as he smiles smugly. he’s been wanting to do this for months.
his hips start rutting into you harshly, squeals leaving your lips the deeper he gets.
it gets to the point where he pulls out to just the tip and slams back into you. he repeats this action over and over again.
you bite down on the pillow to suppress your loud moans, the headboard banging against the wall.
he squeezes your throat tighter. “you filthy fucking thing.”
his hand meets your asscheek once again, and your body shakes from a sob. “he-e’s coming— back— soon.” you manage to say between whines.
“good.” his tip reaches your spot, your toes curling at the bliss. “maybe he can walk in to see his girl creaming all over my cock instead of his.”
once he said that you smear your release around him. his jaw slacks, quickly grabbing his phone that he threw on the bed the moment you came in.
you came in just as he was about to pull up your instagram — like he always does — whenever he needs something to masturbate to.
this, however, is so much better.
“c-cumming inside you.” he moans lowly, shooting his load deep into you.
his thrusts become slow, panning the camera to the mess you guys just made. “christ.” he whispers, pulling out to watch you leak his cum. “look at that.”
you’re not able to catch your breath when he’s fucking into you again. this time, faster.
hoarsely whimpering, he removes the hand from your neck and instead grabs your hair. he pulls your head up from the pillows, your moans now echoing throughout the room.
chris brings the camera in front of your face so you can see yourself.
you’re completely wrecked, strands of hair that he’s not holding all up in your face. your mouth’s open wide, spit dangling from your bottom lip and onto the sheets below. eyes rolling back when that familiar spot gets hit, spilling tears.
“say hi to matt, ma.”
“mm— h-hi matt,” you say incoherently, chris letting go of your hair, your head falling face down back on the pillows.
he brings the phone to his face, still drilling into you like he’s never going to stop.
he grins at the camera, lips swollen and red. “this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”
he props his phone against the lamp on his nightstand, making sure to have a good angle. especially of the shirt you're wearing, specifically matt’s pink shirt with a teddy bear on it. the shirt that he loves on you.
“daddy!” you whimper, too late to take it back. “g-gonna cum, daddy.”
you let out a series of scream-like moans, chris hissing from the back.
“fuck, don’t do that to me.” he exhales, throbbing in your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight. all of this cum for me?”
“ah— mhm!” you choke out.
chris isn’t so far behind, but he wants to hold it for his own sake.
he turns your head on its side so you can look at the camera once again, his hand returning to your throat. “see that? this is exactly what the whore needs to look like.” he says into the phone as if he’s talking to someone. as if he’s talking to matt. “no thought in that brain except the feeling of a cock fucking the shit out of her; until she begs you to stop.”
he knew that the last part of that sentence was coming soon because your eyes were starting to close.
your pussy pulses, another orgasm threatening to escape. you try to crawl out of his grip, but he pushes you back onto him more. this brand new spot he’s hitting has you seeing stars.
“don’t run from me now, my dirty little cumslut.” he pants, looking at the dick imprint inside your abdomen. “holy shit. you’re fucking bulging.”
“please, daddy!” you mewl. “s-stop! it’s too much, chris—” he squeezes your ass, catching your mistake. “daddy! to-too much!”
in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure if you really want him to stop.
“i know, angel. just a few more minutes, okay? i know you have one more. what are we at, four now?”
“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it.” his hand makes contact with your ass, your eyes shooting open. it has to be bruised at this point. “this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”
“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”
your body weakens, becoming limp. you’re in an overwhelming amount of pleasure you can’t even moan anymore. instead, you pant like a dog and stick your tongue out because of the overstimulation. your body rocks at the inhuman pace he’s going. your vision starts to fade, like you’re going to pass out.
pure ecstasy, is what it is.
his thrusts become sloppy, slowing down before coming to a halt. he moans, the feeling of his sticky substance filling your womb. “thank you, daddy. thank you, thank you!” you chant, eyes closing.
he pulls out slowly, the squelching noise music to his ears. there’s a string of cum connecting from his tip to your cum-filled cunt.
he takes his phone, doing a shot of the way your abused hole swallows his ropes of white. “this pussy let me breed you real nice.”
spreading your folds to do one final show of his cum spewing out, you jolt from the sensitivity of his finger pushing it back inside you. poor thing, red and swollen. the flutter of it making it easier for his orgasm to spill out. he ends the video, whispering praises into your ear while kissing your face.
you hear a camera click behind you as he snaps a quick photo of the disgusting mess you two made. the smell of sex floods your nostrils.
chris isn’t that much of an asshole to where he’ll actually send the video to matt. he’s cocky, only having the sex tape to himself to jerk off to. it’ll boost his ego tremendously, that’s for sure.
what’s in the back of his mind is if matt pisses him off in the slightest, he’ll have no problem showing him what his girlfriend looks like clamping down on his brother’s dick.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @rootbeerworshiper @heartlessturniolos @chrisloyalgf @yoinkurnanuhoe @smoothies-are-cool @strtuniolo @1800chokedathoe @sturniolowhore @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!
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hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!
alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)
And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”
BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way
I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)
A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.
Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.
Word Count: 2,392
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.
Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.
For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.
The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.
When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.
The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.
Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.
"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."
He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.
"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.
"I know she did."
"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."
Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.
"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."
Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.
Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.
"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.
"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.
There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.
"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.
"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.
"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.
That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.
About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.
"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.
"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.
"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.
"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."
"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.
Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.
That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.
"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"
"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"
"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."
"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.
"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"
Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.
"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."
"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.
"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.
"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.
"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.
Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.
"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"
"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."
"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."
He trailed off.
"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.
Husk sighed.
"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."
"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.
Husk shrugged.
"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."
Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.
It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.
A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.
Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.
The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.
A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.
"Hey hun, I'm home."
In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.
"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."
"I know."
"Y/n-"
"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."
"Sweetheart-"
Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.
"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"
Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."
His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.
"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.
With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.
"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."
Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.
"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."
Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.
"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.
"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."
"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."
"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.
"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."
"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.
She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.
"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."
"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.
"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.
"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.
Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.
"Husker?" she asked with a smile.
The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Husker! I-"
"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."
Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise." he sighed.
"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.
"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.
"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."
"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."
"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.
"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.
#x reader#fic writer#x reader one shot#x reader fics#x reader writer#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#fanfic#fanfic writer#please request#requests open#requests#request#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hellaverse#hazbin spoilers#the radio demon#radio demon#x reader fanfic#x you#x reader fanfiction
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AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.
When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.
He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.
Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.
(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt headcanons#donnie keeps the comms going on in the background as he works#when he gets to the end he’s like what the hell…where’s the rest#donnie: leo where’s part nine#leo barely cognizant after not needing sleep for months: whuh-#donnie: you can’t leave it at a cliffhanger. leo. leo where’s the next part.#listen leo has a great memory for his special interests this is CANON plus he’s a great talker so he would totally be able to do this frfr#whenever he needs to be quiet he’s SILENT but otherwise he’s regaling the exploits of his idols to the captive audience that is The Photo#sometimes Krang sneaks up on him and just listens to him talk like ????#it starts both as leo trying to comfort himself with his favorite things PLUS comfort himself with thoughts of his father#as splinter makes his own crossover fanfiction when sick lol plus he’s Literally Lou Jitsu#and yes krang ALSO gets a bit invested#leo notices the reduction of Ouch but hey more time for rambling fanfic for him 👍#idk leo’s a damn good actor/liar/planner/schemer and I genuinely think that can pivot into storytelling so well#the literal second mikey’s hands heal donnie zooms to his side with hand stabilizers and a request to draw ‘scene 82 from recording 3’#mikey’s like what#so obvs now HE needs to listen as he works#he too gets invested#he comes across raph who mentions having trouble sleeping#mikey: have I got the podcast fanfic for you!#it only somewhat helps raph sleep#somewhat bc sometimes he forces himself to stay awake to hear the rest#yes these recordings go to the whole fam and leo is none the wiser#they don’t even mean to hide it it just never comes up lol#it’s only when donnie FINALLY makes it to the end of the recordings that he confronts leo to continue the story#leo: oH YOU HEARD ALL THAT HUH-
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thank you @alternativess for the inspo 🎀𓂃 ࣪˖
reqs are open!!
summary: bimbo!reader x abby. abby starts play fighting with you and discovers you enjoy being restrained.
warnings: nsfw under the cut, use of consensual physical restraint in a sexual situation, my first abby fic!!
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
“a-abs! stop-stop-stop!” the incessant tickling from your girlfriends sturdy, strong arms was taunting you. trying your best to fight back, you slap her arm sheepishly.
“oh, that’s how you wanna do this, huh?” she smirks playfully, throwing her braid off her shoulder and lunging into you, beginning to play wrestle.
you couldn’t lie, the wet spot in your frilly pink panties was growing increasingly hard to ignore, especially if her muscles kept flexing so tauntingly close to your doe-ish eyes….
regardless! you do your best to fight back just to please her, because you two both know you don’t stand a chance, and she thinks it’s adorable. when you playfully go to bite her bicep, her fighting instincts kick in….
and her beefy, swollen arm has you in an unyielding headlock.
fuck.
the pornographic whimper that erupted from you caused abby to loosen her grip, taking your jaw in her calloused fingers and guiding you up towards her sweat glistened face.
“got something you wanna tell me?”
you begin to shake your head no, but abby interrupts-
“if i take off those panties am i gonna find my girl wet?”
my girl.
well, if you weren’t wet already, she was definitely going to find you soaked now.
with one quick movement, she has you laid down on your back, your underwear in one hand, and another sliding into your folds. your mind goes completely blank, well, more than it already was, only craving abby’s vicious touch.
“oh…sweet girl….tell me. was it that headlock? don’t. lie.”
the desperate moans that are bubbling from your plump pink lips would be fucking embarrassing if you weren’t already so drunk on her touch, your hips hopelessly rutting into her resistant fingers.
“words, angel.”
“y-ye-y….yes!! yes abs!!”
the menacing chuckle she exhaled was enough to make you buckle, but you knew better. had to keep your eyes on abby.
“does my girl get off on being hurt? bein’ restrained?”
“m-mm-mhm!”
“remember our safe word?” she goes soft for a moment, and you nod in agreement. as soon as she gets confirmation, this girl just starts manhandling the fuck out of you. fingerprint shaped marks decorate your hips and ribs as she positions you in the headlock once again, her bicep throbbing against your ear.
“gonna make you cum, yeah baby? no tricks this time, swear. jus’cum fr’me angel….” she cooes, as her previously mocking fingers finally…finally….fill you up completely.
“abs!! a-abs!!!”
“does my girl love my muscles? hgnh- loves how my arms are bigger than her stupid slutty brain?”
“y-yes….ys’ abs! always!”
the pace she’s drilling into you at is relentless, slick drooling down her knuckles and your pillowy thighs. your cushiony walls are throbbing around her thick fingers, only persuading her to go harder, to tighten the death grip on your neck, little veins popping out.
“g-gna’-“ you moan nearly pathetically, abby immediately understanding before you even opened your mouth, because of course she does. this girl knows your body better than anyone, the patterned pulses of your pretty pussy swallowing up her fingers signaling your orgasm.
“go ahead, sweetheart. cum fr’ me.”
your vision nearly goes black as the grip around your neck tightens, and her fingers curl up into you. everything is fuzzy for a few moments, but abby’s comforting touch soothes your senses, effortlessly picking you up and tenderly placing you in her lap.
“come on, baby. gonna draw a bath for you, yeah?”
god, you love abby anderson.
#abby anderson au#abby anderson headcanons#abby anderson x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson smut#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson fanfiction#taking reqs#taking requests#requests open#reqs open
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HAVE ME // t. nott
RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS
Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When you are paired with Cormac McClaggen for a mid-semester project, he takes it as an opportunity to shoot his shot. However, despite your numerous rejections, he doesn't seem to want to let up. That is until Theo gets involved.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT, depictions of violence (a small fight, specifically), blood described very briefly, Cormac is hitting on reader and won't leave them alone, language, oral sex (perf. on reader), kissing, dom!Theo, fem reader, not proof-read
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Hotel - Montell Fish
---
The chatter around the classroom slowly dwindled as Professor Snape silently slipped through the door of his office. Everyone was waiting patiently for the results of his decision from yesterday. He mentioned that the mid-semester project would be partnered rather than solo. To you, that was bad news, but to others in the class, it was good. You worked best when you didn’t have to sort out the ideas getting bounced around aloud. But if you had to work with a partner, please let it be someone halfway decent.
“So,” Snape starts, “I have here the list of partners for the mid-semester project. As a reminder, you will be handling very toxic materials, so for the sake of all of our time, be careful with them.” His expression hinted at boredom, despite the unfortunate things he was referencing. Last year, someone nearly lost a hand with this project, and—to be quite honest—that was one of the reasons you were so excited about it. You liked the challenge and, even better, overcoming it. But you couldn’t do that with a shitty partner. Your fingers crossed beneath your open notebook.
“Malfoy with Weasley, Berkshire with Granger,” he began listing the names. Your hips shifted uncomfortably. He was pairing everyone with the opposite house. Surely he’d grant you some mercy with how well you’d been doing in this class?
“—Nott with Finnigan—” Your thoughts were briefly interrupted as Theodore’s name was called. That was an interesting pairing; however, you knew that Potions was one of Theo’s strong suits, and, granted they worked well together, the both of them would successfully keep their eyebrows intact.
Your eyes found the older boy, tracing over every line on his face. You were friends, pretty good friends. His whole group of Slytherins were friendly with you, really. But there was something about him that had shocked you to your core from the first night you’d met him and started chatting at the Sorting ceremony when the both of you were eleven. He was quite literally one of the most attractive people you’d ever seen, and it seemed like he knew it too. The way he held himself down to the way he communicated with people, he just knew he was alarmingly alluring.
He had a way of staring right into your eyes when you spoke to him, almost to the point it felt as if he was reading your mind. No matter what, he’d give you his full attention, even more so than his other friends, it seemed. Maybe you had always imagined it, but if you called his name, he was there. He would be waiting with his ear next to your lips, eager to hear what you had to say, no matter how you were feeling. Perhaps it was cliche, but you felt as though you could tell him anything, and you did.
His eyes found yours suddenly. His lips parted into a crooked smile, his dazzling white teeth peeking through slightly. You returned the action, raising your eyebrows in an amused fashion at his partner for the project. He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. He pointed at you and mouthed, ‘You’re coming up.’ You rolled your eyes and laughed silently as you brushed him off. You were laughing, but, in all seriousness, this wasn’t a comedic matter. Your Potions grade was potentially on the chopping block here, and you were getting nervous. Snape didn’t grade depending on who did what; he simply graded on the project's legitimacy. You could do this by yourself, but if whomever your partner ended up being fucks it up, you both were screwed. And, on top of it all, you would have to work with a Gryffindor, someone you likely barely knew. Perfect.
Your name perked your ears as Snape paused for a moment, trying to decipher his own handwriting. Merlin, was he trying to tease you? You glanced around, wondering who hadn’t been selected yet. You hadn’t been paying attention. “Ah! With McClaggen.”
Your heart sank. You turned to glance over your shoulder at the showy Gryffindor sitting in the back corner of the classroom. He sent a wink and a small smirk your way, to which you replied by quickly turning back around. Did the universe hate you? It must. That was the only answer. Shit.
“Get to work,” he instructed, returning to his office and firmly shutting the door behind him. You weighed out the options in your head on how angry Snape would be if you asked to switch partners. You were sure he picked them for a reason…or maybe he didn’t? Merlin, help. Should you even bother with this? Maybe you could convince McClaggen to let you do all the work. He could sit patiently by and be quiet.
The classroom bustled gently as students were standing and finding their partners. Small groans echoed as everyone paired up. Apparently, you weren’t the only one that disliked your partner. Usually, you wouldn’t have expected Professor Snape to have paired Gryffindors with Slytherins. Who knew? Maybe he was trying something new.
You hid a wince and got to your feet. You collected your notebook and school bag and made your way over to the smirking boy. His hands were placed cockily behind his head, and one leg rested, crossed over the other. He maximalized every bit of space he took up, like a peacock. You repressed a groan and sat down in the seat next to him, neatly spreading your things out.
“Well, hello,” he cooed. “I don’t think I’ve spoken with you before.”
“I don’t think so either,” you chuckled nervously, eyes finding the back of Theo’s head. He sat towards the front of the classroom, partnered with the clumsy Gryffindor. You wondered if he was having the same doubts you were. As if on beat, his head turned and made eye contact with you. He hid a smile at your current predicament and gave you a small wave with his fingers. You rolled your eyes and, with the hand farthest from McClaggen, pretended to choke yourself with it. Theo laughed aloud before turning back around when his partner tapped his shoulder.
“What’s so funny?” your partner asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” you smiled, “how about we get started?”
Most of the class period was spent discussing the potion the two of you wanted to brew. The assignment was to pick one of the most difficult potions to brew and to make and document the experience successfully. All of the potions you were to choose from were in the very last chapter of your textbook, and the two of you flipped through the pages, unsure.
Every so often, Cormac (you’d learned his first name was) would point at something on one of the pages and scoot ever so closer to you. He was so close now you could smell the peppermint candy he swished around his mouth. His arm rested alongside the back of your chair, and you were…immensely uncomfortable. Your back straightened so as not to come into contact with his arm.
Throughout this whole experience, you’d glance Theo looking back at the two of you every so often and wonder if you could signal him to distract the boy. It wasn’t that you felt threatened; you just wish he’d back the hell up. If you had a personal bubble, it had long since combusted. His face was so close to yours, and no matter how far you leaned away, he’d get closer. Finally, you’d had enough.
“Cormac,” you laughed nervously. You placed one hand on his chest and slowly pushed him back toward his own seat.
“What is it?” he asked. No matter what you did, that stupid smirk never failed.
“You are very close to me,” you explained, trying to remain as polite as possible. He shrugged and chuckled a bit, gaining on some of the space you’d placed between the two of you.
“Well, that’s because I want to get closer to you,” he said.
“Uh, no,” you tittered, “that’s okay. Let’s just do the project.” You tapped the textbook and pretended to immerse yourself back in the information, hoping he’d let it lie. He didn’t. His arm wrapped back around your chair, and your eyes slipped close in exasperation.
“Cormac, please—”
“What? Don’t you want to get to know each other before we do a project together?” he asked, scooting closer yet again.
“No, I really don’t. I just want to get this done.” His face resumed its previous proximity to yours. He smirked at the closeness and you sighed, turning your face away from his, begging Theo to glance back again.
“Oh, I see…is he your boyfriend?” Cormac asked. Your face shot back to his.
“What? No! He’s just a friend,” you said.
“That was a very quick, rushed answer,” he laughed, “but if you say so, that’s even better for me—”
“Please, let’s just do the assignment,” you pleaded, “I’m really not interested.”
“Not even for a trip to Hogsmeade?”
“No, not really, you’re not my type.” You glanced back at Theo. He was finally looking back. Only this time, his eyes were locked on the boy beside you, with his face so close to yours. His eyes gleamed blood red, and his jaw clenched tightly. Your eyebrows furrowed, begging him to intervene somehow. If Cormac wasn’t too embarrassed to shoot his shot in the middle of class, surrounded by his peers, you were almost positive he’d continue to harass you outside of the classroom. Maybe even when the two of you were alone, and he might not let up at that point.
“What is your type?” he asked. “Brooding assholes in Slytherin?” He said this part a bit louder, making direct eye contact with Theo. You could feel the tension building slightly, and did your best to diffuse the situation. You partially blocked their gaze of each other.
“Please don’t say that about him.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend. Why are you defending him?”
“He’s not my boyfriend, but he is my friend, and I’d like you not to call him names,” you spoke sternly, eyes hardening on the boy. He was plucking the last strings of your patience.
“Fine, I will—” you nodded at his promise “—if you let me take you to dinner.”
The bell signalling the end of class interrupted the conversation. Thank Merlin. You quickly gathered your things together and shoved them into your bag, praying he’d just drop the subject and let you move on with your day. You’d figure out a way to deal with him later. For right now, you just wanted to get your free period started as soon as possible. He stood right when you did. You ignored him and made for the exit, walking as quickly as looked natural.
You were the first out of the classroom and down the hall, trying your best to get away from him without completely abandoning Theo. A hand grabbed your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. It roughly spun you around, yanking a yelp from your throat. You stood before Cormac, who had a sinister look on his face.
“You never answered me,” he said. “Let me take you to dinner…”
“No, Cormac, I don’t want to go,” you said, attempting to wrestle yourself out of his iron grip. What about your thousand answers was he not grasping?
“Let go of me.” His hand did not release you, and it did not seem like he intended to, either. You slipped your hand between his and your shoulder, trying to edge it off. He made a sound of endearment before attempting to slide a hand around your hips. You squealed and squirmed away from him, trying to prevent him from wrapping his arms farther around you.
“Hey!” A voice shouted. The both of you began to turn, but before Cormac could get his head fully pivoted, a hand appeared on his shoulder and yanked him away from you. It was Theo, and he appeared to be fuming. His jaw was tightly clenched, and his eyes were wild.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, McClaggen?” he demanded. “She said no, you dick!”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business. She said you weren’t her boyfriend,” the younger laughed meanly, poking him roughly in the chest. You winced at the contact.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, pushing the boy back from him. Cormac stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing. It appeared he was as surprised as everyone else was at the sudden hostility. Cormac laughed cockily.
He raised a hand and swung his fist at Theo as hard as he could, getting a good hit in. Theo’s head jerked to the side from the force of the punch, and you gasped sharply, hands shooting to cover your mouth in shock. Natural instincts told you to jump back, but you rushed toward Theo, who pushed you back gently behind him, squeezing your arm firmly. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it meant to stay put.
“Come on, Slytherin!” Cormac shouted. “Show me what your reject house is made of!”
A crowd of other students had begun to gather around the two boys, curious to see what all of the commotion was. Adrenaline pumped through your veins like ice water as you watched Theo approach the other boy, cocking his arms and wringing any stiffness out of them.
Before you could feel the exhalation of breath leave your body, Theo swung his arm at the boy, cracking him hard across the jaw. As if in slow motion, Cormac fell back and hit the ground with a hard thud. You imagined his tailbone would be quite bruised tomorrow morning.
Theo fell down on top of the boy, legs resting on either side of his hips, and wailed on him. Fist after fist hit the boy’s face, pushing more and more blood out of him. You screamed in shock as you realized Theo had no intention of stopping. Around the same time you did, everyone else did too. They began throwing shouts of concern and pressing in on the two boys. Everybody loved a good fight now and then but nobody wanted to see someone get killed.
Yet, nobody put their hands on Theo for fear of being in the same predicament as Cormac currently was. That was, until Enzo and Mattheo ran up behind the crowd. You heard them ask if that was Theo.
“Enzo!” you shouted his name, waving over the crowd. His eyes quickly found yours and in seeing the distress on your face, began weaving through the crowd. Mattheo quickly followed suit.
When they breached the barrier of the crowd, their eyes widened, and they made for their friend. They grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the poor boy, his face a mangled mess. You looked away quickly, not wanting to see the damage that had been done in your favor.
Once pulled away, a gathering of students ran over to Cormac and covered him with a wall of their protection, trying to see if they could help him somehow. You turned to Theo, who was breathing heavily, a single dripping of blood pouring from his nose. You turned to the bottom of your uniform shirt, found the edge of the seam, and tore a small section of it. You could get a replacement sometime later.
You approached the boy with a murderous gaze and gently pressed the piece of shirt beneath his nose. He flinched slightly but never looked away from Cormac. Maybe that hadn’t been for you, and he’d just wanted to beat Cormac’s ass—which is understandable, but still. You weren’t totally sure why he did it.
“Theo?” you spoke gently. His glare didn’t waver. The fingers pressing the material against his bloodied nose tilted his face carefully to look at you. His eyes found yours, softening slightly.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his chest heaving. “I couldn’t stand him touching you like that.”
“It’s okay,” you reassured. He didn’t seem convinced. How he looked at you with such concern and worry made you wonder if he thought you were mad at him. You shook your head at the question running through your mind. Obviously, he didn’t know what you had been thinking, but you hoped he’d understand somehow.
You helped Enzo and Mattheo pull him to his feet and escort him away from the crowd before any of the professors showed up. Speaking of which, they likely should have been out here by now.
As you helped the boys guide Theo toward the Slytherin common room, you were careful to avoid any obvious eyes that raced past them to see what the aftermath of the commotion was. Hopefully, nobody would notice them and they could deal with the whole situation later. The group turned the corner and stopped before the entrance to the dorm room. Enzo announced the password, and the lot of you headed inside, pulling Theo up the stairs and into the boys’ dorm room. He pulled away from them suddenly and sat on his bed.
“Alright, alright, I’m okay!” he declared. “I just got a sock to the jaw; my legs weren’t broken.”
“They’re just trying to help, Teddy,” you whispered, trying to place the cloth back on his nose that had started up its intermittent spurting again. He sighed and gently grabbed your wrist, holding it away from his face. He was never rough with you, despite how angry he was.
“I’m fine, I’m just wound up, I don’t need any of you to—”
“Nonsense,” you interrupted him. “Mattheo, Enzo, would the two of you mind running down to the hospital wing and asking Madam Pomfrey if she has anything to stop the bleeding. It’s not excessive, but it’s messy.”
“Is there not a spell or something like that?” Mattheo asked, clearly concerned for his friend.
“Not one that I know off the top of my head. Would you just go ask her, please?” you repeated yourself. The two boys seemed to hesitate but eventually worked their way out of the room with their destination in mind. Once they were gone, your eyes turned back to Theo’s. An amused glint lay suspended in his eyes.
“‘Nothing that comes to mind?’” he smirks. “If a spell comes to my mind and not yours, the world must be upside down.” You conceal a laugh. You knew a spell. You knew multiple healing spells, but you wanted Mattheo and Enzo out of the room for a second. You just wanted to speak with Theo about what had happened.
“I’m sorry I lied to your friends,” you said. “But I really wanted to talk with you privately, and I didn’t want to wait.” His eyes keep a tight hold on yours. You swallow thickly.
“Okay, what is it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Anxiety pools in your stomach as you realize you hadn’t really planned anything to say. You wanted to know why Theo had done what he did and if it was for or because of you. Cormac had been bothering you, yes, but it could have just been that Theo really disliked him and wanted to intervene.
“Why did you do that?” you ask. Probably the worst way you could have asked that, but it was what came out. You might as well own it at this point.
“Do what?” he mused.
“Why did you stop Cormac?”
“That feels like a dumb question. He was laying his hands on you without your permission.”
“Would you have done that for anyone, though?” you stuttered through your interrogation.
“I suppose not….why do you ask?” he asked, the smirk never leaving his face. Your eyes fell down to his lips suddenly, noticing that there was a small amount of dried blood stained across them. A small gasp left your lips as you reached your hand out. You didn’t think through any of the following movements; you just allowed your body to do as it pleased. Your fingers gently cradled his jaw, and your thumb swiped slowly over his lips, collecting the bit of staining as it crossed. Your eyes found him again, and you realized he was intently watching you. His eyes were softened by hunger. The way they traveled down to your lips, his lips parting as he found yours, his hands clenching by his side. It sent a chill down your spine.
“Theo,” you breathed. You could not pull your eyes away from his swollen lips. You wanted so badly to learn their taste and memorize it for eternity. Just one kiss and you could be satisfied for the rest of your days.
“I kicked Cormac’s ass because he was laying his hands on you, and I have been desperate to do that for years…,” he whispered. “The difference between him and I, though? I ask permission.” A glimpse of a chuckle spreads over his lips, and you feel your stomach blush with heat. As if he could feel it happen to you, his nose bumped softly against yours, igniting the heat and transforming it into a flame.
“I want you so bad,” he whispered, the air skimming your lips. “Please let me have you.”
“Have me, Teddy.” Your response was final. His hands gripped each side of your face firmly and pressed your lips together. Heat and light and everything in between exploded into your stomach, sending shocks of love into your heart. You could have melted on the spot, and you nearly did, if it weren’t for Theo wrapping one arm tightly around your waist and holding you up.
His tongue slid over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You granted him access to every part of you with no push-back. All you wanted was to feel him everywhere and never to lose that feeling ever again.
The both of his hands pushed around the back of your thighs and pulled them to either side of his bent knees. He settled you neatly onto his lap, you straddling his thighs against the bed. The action sent a lightning bolt of pleasure directly to your core as the space between his thighs urged gently against you. You sighed against his mouth, entangling your fingers into his hair.
Everything about him was overwhelming. His smell, his taste, and his touch had you gasping for air. You had never realized how much you truly wanted him until this very moment. Without so much as a breath, he cradled your back with one hand and stood from his bed, lifting the two of you into the air. You squeaked from the sudden movement but relaxed instantly when he settled you against his bed.
His lips detached from yours and quickly made alliance with your jaw and then your neck. His head worked down the frame of your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to every sliver of skin he could find. When he reached the waistline of your uniform skirt, he tapped his finger twice against the spot where your shirt was tucked in. You nodded so quickly, it was almost pathetic. He smirked and slipped his hands between the materials. He tugged your shirt out and began laying the same types of kisses over your bare stomach. You groaned at the feeling, noticing the ardor he placed into each press of his lips. You felt worshipped and it was addicting.
His eyes flicked up to find yours as he slowly pushed himself farther down, placing himself just in front of your core. Without question, your legs began to spread for him, allowing him access to anything he wanted. You just needed to feel him; you didn’t care what he did.
Your eyes found his face once more and scanned over the entirety of it. A deep, sinister glance rested in his eyes, holstering a lust so dark, it almost frightened you. His lips were slightly parted in a teasing, smirking way, just waiting to place themselves against you once more. And his nose had…oh, it had begun to bleed again. You reached down and swiped your thumb beneath it, pushing the excess discharge away. A small twinge of guilt hit you again at the thought of Theo getting himself hurt for you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, frowning at the sight before you.
“You never have to apologize to me,” he breathed, “you are perfect.” And with that, he’d flipped the edge of your skirt over your legs and sunk his face between them. His tongue found your core before you could even get a word out. A breathless moan spilled from your lips as your spine arched off the bed. Your hands immediately pushed down to wrap themselves in his curls, savoring every single swipe of his tongue.
“So fucking good,” he moaned against you, the vibrations sending messages up to your very brain. You quaked beneath the feeling, your thighs shaking against the boy’s hold on them. It was nearly becoming too much. You weren’t going to last much longer. If he wanted to do something, he’d better get to it.
“Theo, I’m…c—”
“Not yet, baby,” he whispered, pressing two chaste kisses to the inside of your thighs. You could feel the wetness spread across his lips and chin smear against your flesh. You shuddered at the sensation. It definitely should not have turned you on as much as it just did. “I want it on my tongue.”
He separates himself from you and slides his hands beneath the crook of your knees. With a firm grip, he yanks you to the edge of the bed, where your hips are lying just over the curve. His hands find your hips and flip you over onto your stomach, careful to avoid hurting you in any way. Ever so gentle.
You could hear him kneel down again behind you. Your thighs shook in anticipation just before he pressed his lips back to you. His tongue swirled across you in the most delicate of motions, drawing every sound possible from your lips. Your fingers gripped the sheets as each of his movements drew you closer to the edge. You might finish any second.
“Hey-o!” Mattheo’s voice came from just outside the door. You jumped up and glanced back at Theo as the both of you separated as fast as possible. Theo came up to sit beside you on the bed and made quick work of wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. You pulled your skirt back over your legs and stood at attention, waiting for the two boys to enter. Damn it. You had been so close.
The two boys walked in, clutching a small vial of liquid. Mattheo raised it to show the two of them, both of whom quickly nodded, smiling innocently. Surely, they wouldn’t suspect anything of the two of you. You’d never really expressed any feelings toward the other before now. At least not publicly.
“Where do you want this?” Mattheo asked.
“If you would just take it to the bathroom, we’re headed in there so they can help me clean up the rest of the way.” Both of the other boys nodded and headed back out the way they came, moving toward the group bathroom.
Just as they left, Theo slipped his hand beneath your skirt and traced his fingers along you, allowing one to insert itself to its hilt. You gasped sharply, trying your best to mute the sound. His hand began to pump against you, slowly rising in speed as he hit that perfect spot each time with ease. The sounds spilling from your lips became less and less controlled as he pushed you towards the edge, keeping you standing tall and refusing to let you lay back down on the bed.
“Come like this, baby,” he whispered. “Quickly, before they get back.” His finger pressed deeply up into you one last time, bruising the soft spot and forcing a rushing finish down on you. Your lips parted in a shocked moan as the proof of your end slipped down around Theo’s fingers. He worked you through the entirety of it, never tiring and never halting. He could do this all day.
The sound of his friends heading back toward the dorm room pushed the two of you apart once again. Only this time, Theo had a telling, lustful expression imprinted on his face, and the remains of your ecstasy were still painted across his fingers. You swiped a hand between your thighs in an attempt to clean yourself off and brushed any concerns from Mattheo or Enzo off. The ‘Are you okay?’ and the ‘You guys look weird’ had nothing on the steel resolve the both of you kept planted on your faces. If Theo could fight someone for you, you could fight the urge to tell his friends he’d just let you fuck his face while they were out running an errand. Oh well, such is life. You laughed to yourself.
#fanfiction#creative writing#fanfic#writing#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#reader insert#oneshot#slytherin#harry potter smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#mattheo riddle#enzo berkshire#request#cormac mclaggen#fem reader
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jacob elordi and yn take a lie detector test | vanity fair
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | jacob insta blurb
"YN," the interviewer said, you and Jacob were sitting side by side with expectation shown in your faces, "Jacob."
"Hello," you said in unison, which made you look at each other and laugh.
"We're going to be taking a lie detector test today," the interviewer explained, "One of you will he hooked up to the machine while the other asks questions, and then you'll switch."
"Why are my palms sweating?" you said, making Jacob laugh and kiss the side of your head quickly.
"Who would you like to go first?" the interviewer asked again.
Jacob and you looked at each other for a few seconds before he winked at you and told the interviewer he would go first.
The video showed someone from the crew getting the machine ready and getting Jacob hooked to it.
"Do I look afraid?" Jacob asked, making you relax and laugh.
"You look fine, babe," you looked at the guy who was in charge of the machine, who give you the cue that you could start asking questions, "Okay, is your real name Jacob Elordi?"
"Yes," he answered.
"Were you born in Melborune, Australia?"
"No, I was born in Brisbane."
"Are you ready to take this lie detector test?" you asked, a smile playing on your face.
"I think so," he looked at you with a nervous smile and then looked at the camera.
"Okay, let's get started."
JACOB ELORDI TELLS THE TRUTH
"So, you were born in Australia. Do you like LA better?" you asked, reading the folder in front of you.
"Right now, yeah," Jacob answered, a small screen on the top left showing the lie detector machine working.
"Would you say you've adopted the LA lifestyle since moving here?"
"Yes,"
"Do you like going to yoga classes with me?" you raised your eyebrow, noticing a smile appearing on Jacob's face
"Absolutely." he answered confidently and you directed your raised eyebrow to the man behind the machine.
"He's telling the truth," the man said
"Were you doubting me?" Jacob said, an offended tone in his voice.
"Just confirming," you looked at the folder once again,"Do you consider yourself a heartthrob?"
"Yeah," he answered, but the look on his face said otherwise.
"A lie," the man said.
"I don't consider myself a heartthrob," he began, "but I mean I guess I kinda have to accept it."
"Yep, there you go," you said and a cheeky smile played on your face as you read the following question, "Have you ever felt jealous of any of my co stars?"
The room got quiet after the question, Jacob threw his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Just answer the question!" you said and he shook his head.
"I wouldn't say that I'm a jealous person, specially not of your co stars because I'm an actor myself and I know how it works," he began, "I'm just protective, okay?"
"No reading, that was too close," the man behind the machine spoke, "It was a gray area, we could ask it again or we could just move on."
"Let's move on, he doesn't want to admit that he was jealous of Andrew Garfield on camera," you joked and Jacob couldn't help but laugh along, "Did you feel nervous during our first date?"
"Yes," his eyes widened at the memory, "I was about to piss my pants, actually."
"Truth,"
"Oh I already knew that," you shrugged with a cocky smile, "If I asked you to move to New York with me, would you do it?"
"Yeah, definitely," he smiled, "New York is the shit."
"Alright, babe, let's keep this interesting," you said with a grin. The lie detector machine still monitoring his responses, "Have you ever borrowed my clothes without asking?"
"Of course, guilty as charged," Jacob chuckled, "Your oversized sweaters are just too comfy to resist, love, and don't get me started on your purses,"
"This shouldn't have been a question, everyone knows the purses you use to go out are mine," you rolled your eyes with affection,"Okay last one from me,"
"Bring it,"
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
You looked at Jacob curiously, and he took a moment before replying.
"Yeah, I do," he answered smoothly, "I mean when I met you, there was this instant connection, and I just knew there was something special about you."
"He's telling the truth," the lie detector confirmed, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Smooth answer, Elordi. Looks like we're on the same page about love at first sight," he smiled back at you, "Lord that was so cheesy, It's my turn! But, did at any point of this interview did you lie and we didn't catch you?"
"I mean, I don't know if you caught me," Jacob rested his chin on his hand.
"Did he lie?" you asked the man, both you and Jacob turning to look at him.
"He's not lying," He confirmed and Jacob gave you a smug smile
"I guess you passed the test."
YN TELLS THE TRUTH
You took your place in the hot seat while Jacob prepared to play the role of the interrogator, nerves kicking in as the crew hooked you up to the machine.
"Okay, YN," Jacob said, a smirk showing on his face, "Let's get started, shall we?"
You nodded and he sent you a wink.
"Is your favorite movie still 'The Notebook'?"
"Absolutely," you answered immediately and the machine confirmed your answer.
"Classic," he muttered, "Have you ever faked a compliment about my cooking?"
"Maybe once or twice, but it's only because I didn't want to hurt your feelings," you bit your lip, and Jacob gave you a surprised expression
"So, I've been living a lie?" he raised his eyebrow at you.
"No, no," you reassured him, "Your cooking skills have definitely improved over time."
"Truth," the man in charge of the lie detector said, and Jacob nodded in approval.
"Fair enough. Now, have you ever pretended to like a movie just because I wanted to watch it?"
"Guilty again," you covered your face in embarrassment,"But in my defense, no one wants to watch the Star Wars movies after a long day of filming."
"My feelings are definitely hurt," Jacob said and dramatically put a hand on his chest, "This test is making you look like a bad girlfriend, actually,"
"Come on now, give me more questions,"
"Alright, let's dig a little deeper," Jacob said with a smirk, "Have you ever considered stealing my phone to read my text messages?"
"Maybe once or twice," you said, "But only out of curiosity, not suspicion."
"Well, you know I'm wrapped around your finger so I would let you go through it anytime," he shrugged, "Do you think my Australian accent is sexier than your American one?"
"Oh, come on! That's not a fair question," you couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Just answer the question, love," Jacob teased.
"Fine, fine," you said, still laughing, "Yes, your Australian accent is undeniably sexy."
"Truth," the machine confirmed, and Jacob playfully raised an eyebrow looking satisfied.
"Do you regret any of the roles you've played?" he asked, and you took a deep breath before answering.
"No, all of the roles I've played have been very meaningful to me," you replied, and the man operating the machine machine looked at you with a raised eyebrow."
"She's lying," he simply said, and you shut your eyes hearing Jacob laugh.
"I guess you have some explaining to do," he chuckled, shooting a playful glare at you, "Come on, spill it."
"Okay, fine," you admitted, "There was this one project early in my career that I took for the paycheck, and looking back, I wish I had chosen something more aligned with my values. It's not a regret per se, but more of a lesson learned."
"Fair enough," Jacob nodded, moving to the next question, "Have you ever stalked fan accounts dedicated to me?"
"Maybe a casual scroll here and there," you admitted, trying to seem cool about it.
"Casual scroll, huh?" Jacob raised an eyebrow and peeked at the lie detector, "The machine doesn't seem convinced, right?" he asked the man.
"It's a lie," he confirmed ad Jacob burst into laughter.
"Caught red-handed, love. What's next? Have you ever used my toothbrush without telling me?" he teased, making you laugh
"No way! That's just gross," you protested
"You hesitated there. Are you sure?" Jacob raised an eyebrow again
The machine signaled the truth, and you sighed in relief.
"I was just grossed out by the thought. I promise I've never done that."
"It's not like we haven't kissed before," he teased and you rolled your eyes but smiled, "Okay last question.
"Hit me with it," you said, ready for whatever it would be.
"Have you ever thought about what our future holds? Like, where we'll be in 10 years?" he asked, his expression turning serious.
You took a moment to contemplate the question.
"Yes," you answered sincerely, "I think about it quite often. I imagine us still together, maybe with a family, still acting and pursuing our passions and of course supporting each other."
"Truth," the lie detector machine confirmed your words, and Jacob's serious expression softened into a warm smile.
"Well, looks like we're on the same page there once again," he said, "Did you lie at any time and we didn't catch you?"
"Nope, I was an open book, babe," you replied, sending a wink his way.
"Did she lie?" Jacob turned to the man behind the machine,
The man hesitated for a moment, building suspense, before finally saying, "She's telling the truth."
"Told you!"
The video ended with both of you laughing at each other, and it became one of Vanity Fair's most watched Lie Detector tests.
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