#wow look at all these beautiful roses

[moonjxsung]

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

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth42)

EARTH42!MILES who buys you whatever you want, whenever you want. you don’t even have to say anything, as soon as he notices your focus has gravitated towards a display in a mall’s window, he’s stopped in front of it and digging out his wallet.

“you want that?” “no, baby, it’s fine. it’s probably really expensive anyway.” “i don’t remember asking the price. do you want that, yes or no?”

EARTH42!MILES who shows up to your house to take you on you guys’ first date, two bouquets of roses cradled in the fold of his arm instead of one. he was raised by mama rio, after all, so he knows better than to show up to a girl’s house with only his words to impress her mother.

“wow, these are beautiful, miles… thank you. who’s the other one for?” “for your moms, to say thanks for letting me take you out.”

EARTH42!MILES who is so deeply regressed into the act of suppressing his love and affection for others, in fear that he’ll get too attached, only to lose you just like he did his dad. he doesn’t know if he can survive something like that happening again, so it takes a while for him to actually open himself up to you.

“i’m not going anywhere, miles. you can let me in, it’s okay.” “you promise?” “i promise, my love.”

EARTH42!MILES who gets so flustered when you kiss him or compliment him or hold his hand, though it doesn’t come off that way due to how good he is at hiding his true feelings. his stoic expression makes you think he just doesn’t like it, so you back off some. your fears are assuaged when you come over one day and skip your usual greeting of smothering him in kisses or confessions on how much you’ve missed him, and instead settle for giving him a brief, simple hug.

“¿qué pasa, mamí, what i do? ion get no love today?”

EARTH42!MILES who wasn’t the best at texting at first—often leaving you wondering where he was for most of the day or if he was even alive—but has since stepped his game up.

9:30 AM

[mi novio]: goodmorning mi vida, how you sleep?

11:30 am

[mi novio]: you eat anything yet?

2:34 PM

[mi novio]: i miss you

6:20 PM

[mi novio]: ima be busy at around 7, jus lyk so you don’t worry bout where i’m at. i’ll text you when i’m free, okay chiquita?

EARTH42!MILES who asks for a picture of you every time you get your hair done, because he’s too impatient to wait until the two of you hangout again.

[mi novio]: lemme see your hair and make sure your face in it too, i wanna see how pretty my baby look

[you]: attachment: 1 image [you]: you like it?

[mi novio]: lord have mercy it just keeps gettin’ better. [mi novio]: goddamn you look good [mi novio]: nah i gotta see this shit in person im omw

EARTH42!MILES who literally gets offended when he sees you wearing something he didn’t buy.

“where’d you get these from? i don’t remember buying them for you.” “yeah… i got them from the mall last week when i got paid.” “oh, what, so you sayin you don’t need me no more? it’s like that now, mamí?”

EARTH42!MILES who knows he can always run to you when things get rough; when it all becomes too much for him to handle on his own and he can feel his resolve withering. he knows that all he has to do is push open the window you leave cracked for him, climb through it and slip into bed next to you with his head nuzzled into your chest. you’re the only thing that helps him off the ledge nowadays.

“you wanna talk about it, papa?” “nah, not really. can- can you just hold me?” “i can do that.”

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works to other sites!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡ #42 miles morales #miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles #prowler miles fluff #prowler miles fanfic #miles morales x fem!reader #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales prowler #across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles fluff #miles g morales

[daycourtofficial]

Empty Bed Blues

Summary: based on this request - you and Azriel have a spat and he can’t sleep without you. So he takes things into his own hands.

Divider by cafekitsune

“Do we have to go to this stupid dinner?”

Azriel had nuzzled his face into your neck, attempting to keep you in his arms. You stood from the bath, reaching for a towel.

“Yes, we do.”

“But m’tired.”

You run your fingers through his wet hair, his sounds of contentment permeating the silence.

You two were staying in the House of Wind for the evening, anticipating debauchery. You were planning to drink to your heart’s content and you hated winnowing and flying when you were drunk. The last time you flew while extremely drunk, you made him stop so you could throw up in the bushes of a few Velaris storefronts. You sent copious gifts the next morning in apology, but you still felt incredibly bad about it.

“And whose fault is that?”

Azriel had been working like a dog all day, having left your home before the sun rose. His grip tightens on the tub, a pause before he says, “Rhys’s.”

You laugh, “you’re the one who left at the ass crack of dawn to go work when you knew we were going to see everyone tonight.”

He groans, tilting his head back against the porcelain. “Why can’t we stay here? We know exactly what’s going to happen. Cassian’s going to make a crude joke to you to get me riled up, Mor’s going to drink and talk about who she saw the past week, and Amren’s going to sit in the corner and make me uncomfortable.”

You move closer to him, looking at him incredulously, “Wow, do you even like your family?”

“No,” he replies, his lips in a pout. “But I like you.”

You laugh at his attempts to keep you here and his blatant lie about not liking his family. However, you’d been looking forward to this dinner all week and you wouldn’t let a pouty mate keep you from it.

“Baby, I love you, and I’d do anything for you,” his eyes light up at your praise of him, “except miss out on this dinner.”

He deflates, sighing. “I’ve been gone all week and you’d rather see my family?”

You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your agitation to a minimum. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing them all week - you’ve been off on a mission, and I’ve been in Summer all week for Rhys. I’m just excited to let my hair down.”

His jaw ticks, “I just wanted to rest tonight.”

You blow out a breath, “you’re the one who decided to work all day after being gone all week.”

You can feel his annoyance down the bond, and you push some of your own back at him. You two stare each other down, withering gazes trying to get the other to back down. You clutch your towel closer to yourself, walking away calling over your shoulder, “well then, you can get some rest up here, alone.”

-

You retreat down the stairs, having dinner with your family. You refused to see your mate after your argument this afternoon. You had been looking forward to seeing everyone all week, and yet it wasn’t the same with the seat next to you empty.

Nesta had walked past you as you had exited your room, so you’re sure she had heard your argument based on the look she gave you. You’re also sure she told Cassian, who spent the evening trying to keep you in good spirits.

You appreciated his efforts, and you loved your family, but it truly wasn’t the same without your mate next to you.

Upstairs Azriel huffed, turning once again in an attempt to get comfortable. Nothing felt right. The comforting weight of you was nowhere to be found, leaving him in a sleepless fit. He swears he can hear your laughter from downstairs where you’re talking with his family at a dinner he elected not to attend because he was being stubborn and just wanted his stubborn, beautiful mate to lay in bed with him.

He runs his hands down his face, remembering the years where he could sleep wherever necessary. His romanticized version of those years doesn’t last long, as he also remembers how little he slept, weeks where his time spent asleep tallied in the single digits.

Your presence has made it nearly impossible for him to sleep without you nearby, but it also makes him actually sleep. The once permanent purple and blue bags under his eyes have slowly disappeared thanks to you.

Your presence is a luxury he’s been afforded, and damn it all, he’s going to indulge. Azriel gets out of bed, not even bothering to put on a shirt. He moves with speed, determination moving his feet through the halls and down the stairs. He reaches the entrance to the living room, his family lounging across various sofas and couches. His eyes find yours immediately, your lips parting in surprise. You’re standing next to Cassian and Nesta, looking at something in Nesta’s hands.

He stalks over to you, not letting you get a word in before ducking down and lifting you over his shoulder.

“Hello?” You call out, hands gripping onto his hips to stabilize yourself. You can hear Cassian whistle while Nesta mumbles, “dumb brutish male,” after you. He carries you up the stairs, the sounds of your family’s snickering dying down the further you go.

He doesn’t speak as you wind down the hall, or as he opens the door, or as he sets you down on the bed. He’s silent as he lays back down, and you start to ask what this is all about when he reaches a hand out, wrapping around your bicep. He pulls you towards him, settling you on top of his chest.

He sighs contentedly, finally opening his eyes and looking at you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbles, and his eyes start drooping, his body finally able to relax.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile on your face as you ask, “and why’s that?”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. “Needed you,” he breathes into your neck, nuzzling you with his nose. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“You’re spoiled,” you tell him, hands grazing over his cheeks.

He pretends to bite one of your fingers without opening his eyes. “I’m a male who knows what he wants.”

“Can I at least change into a nightgown?”

“If you can do it without getting out of my arms, yes.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

[sinfulpanda16]

JJK Men x Foreign Reader

Gojo Saturo, Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto x gn reader

For the most part, you and your bf live everyday life through his culture. So how would he react if he sees a glimpse of yours?

You two were doing origami together, you were making a cute swan and he was making you a flower. It was such a cute moment the two of you laughing and him occasionally giving you a few quick pecks on your face and then you get a phone call.

You look at the number "Oh it's my mom." you say smiling at your phone.

Gojo smiles "Oh it's my future mother-in-law! Go ahead and answer I'll be patient." he says giving you a smirk.

You blush and answer the call. Gojo listens to you as you say hello in your native language. You two only speak to each other in Japanese so hearing you speak your first language is so rare.

He rests his chin in his palm still listening as you continue to speak. You sound so beautiful. You look beautiful. The way you talk with your mother in her first tongue makes him melt, your voice has a different ring to it due to the different pitches. And that Accent! OMG he's fanboying now.

After the phone call ends you turn to see him looking at you in awe. "What?" you ask giggling.

He smiles "You should speak in (n/l) more often. I think you sound hot as hell." he says enjoying your reaction to that.

Your face grows red. Really? No one has ever told you that and hearing that from him made you appreciate him more because it shows that he loves you for you.

You smile at him and he kisses your cheek again and gives you a paper rose. Then in your language he said "I love you".

You were laying on the couch just staring into space. It's officially been five years since you've moved to Japan. When you were younger you're dream has always been to move to Japan and you did it. You moved to Japan, grew to live comfortably, made some friends and even met your boyfriend.

However just like everyone else who moves away, you get homesick. You think back to when you were a kid and lived with your family back at home. It seemed so long ago and then you think about the yummy food you and your family would make. You smiled softly to yourself thinking about the nostalgia.

You get up from the couch and go to the kitchen. You checked to see if you had all the ingredients you needed for your favorite dish your grandmother made for as a kid. You do, so you hurried to get started on making (f/d).

As you cooked you realized something was missing. You think about how when your grandmother used to cook she would tell you to turn on her music. You laugh softly "Aww grandma. Even now you still manage to make me play your music." you say to yourself and start playing some, with memories flowing back.

Soon after a tiring day Nanami comes back home, he sighs and takes off his coat. He hears some music coming from the kitchen but then he freezes when he realizes he can't understand it. Then he smells something good, he doesn't know what it is but he'd like to see what it is.

He heads to the kitchen and finds you there. Thats what the smell is, its you're cooking. "Y/n." you turn around to see him. He looked a bit confused, and you smiled. "Hey lover, I'm making (f/d). It's a dish my family back at home eat. Do you want to help?"

Nanami stands there for a moment, he's never tried some of the traditional food from your country or ever heard of the music, buts it's all you. All of it is your blood and honestly, he's loving this side of you. He smiles softly at, "Sure love." he says and pulls his sleeves up so he can help you.

He's walking to meet up with you. He's not paying attention to much but then he sees you from his peripheral vision. He stops and turn to look at you and you look, wow.

You stand out from the rest, you really do. He's proof lol every time someone see's you they can't help but to admire you. Geto stood there looking at you smirking.

You're (h/t) (h/c) hair is beautiful and your (s/c) skin looks so soft and delicate. You were talking to two other women who were actually asking about you and where you're from. They seemed genuinely interested and curious about your culture. The way you spoke Japanese in the cutest accent made Geto let out a chuckle. It was just too cute.

It's funny because it's obvious that you're not from around here and yet you have such a way of making the people here adore you. They complement your eyes, your voice, or your hair. If he had to pick his favorite would be your eyes. Such a beautiful color and shape. Damn, you're gorgeous he thinks to himself.

You turn to see Geto is already here. With an excited smile you say your goodbyes to the two women and head to him. "Hi my love!" you yell as you run towards him.

He smiles "Hey gorgeous" he says with wide arms for you. Yes, that's right this beautiful foreigner is his partner. You jump into his arms, and he picks you up. And this is exactly how he thinks about you every day.

The first time Toji saw you he was infatuated with you. Even he had to admit you look so beautiful and from there he didn't care. He was gonna make you his.

And he did lol.

He was sitting on the couch on his phone. Endless scrolling of nothing interesting and he started to get bored. He was about to get up but then you enter the living room wearing something he was unfamiliar with.

With a blush on your face you ask, "What do you think love?". He honestly had no idea what you were wearing but it looked cute on you.

"What is it my love?" he asks leaning forward on the couch. You tell him the name and explain to him that it's what the people in your culture wear when there's a certain occasion.

Toji smirks "Do a turn for me beautiful." he orders. Shyly, you obey and do a spin for him. You can't help but giggle when you look at his face. You can tell he approves.

He chuckles "I think it looks beautiful on you" he states. He gets up "But you know..." he makes his way over to you. You start getting uptight, you love his dominance, but you have to admit it's kind of intimidating. Soon he's towering over you. He leans down to your ear "I think it'd look better on the ground by our bed." You shiver and let him pick you up and carry you to the bedroom.

So yeah, he loves you so much and loves learning about your home and its culture.

And bruh, how did they all already know what the word for Daddy was in your language?!

#gojo saturo x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #toji x reader #toji x you #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #toji jjk #nanami kento #geto x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! Would you be willing to write about someone who finds out that their roommate and childhood best friend is actually some kind of supernatural creature? Preferably m/m but its okay if you’d like to change the genders.

Have a nice day!!!

"You're...uh...wow."

Maybe Holden should be horrified, but all he could really do was stare, dumbly entranced. The staring wasn't that different to normal, if he was going to be really horribly honest with himself.

But Atlas also wasn't normally crouched near stark-bollocks naked in the middle of their dorm room. He didn’t normally have dark, gorgeous wings unfurling from his back. He didn’t normally stare at Holden with eyes that had gone from blue to literally black too. Hungry. Heated.

Holden hastily shut the door behind him before someone else on the floor saw.

"Are you, uh, okay, man?"

His best friend was, very clearly, not okay. His gaze tracked every small movement that Holden made.

"You," Atlas growled through his teeth. "Are not supposed to be here."

"Right. Yeah. Uh. My class was—" Holden lost his trail of thought as he continued to stare. "God,” he said, a little dizzy, “you look incredible."

Five-year old Atlas had been funny and brave. Nineteen-year old Atlas also had the absolute gall to be stunning on top of that. It was, frankly, terrible on a night out. On his own, Holden did okay. When he was standing next to Atlas though, more and more as the years passed by, he may as well have been a potato. He couldn't even hold it against anyone. He did enough trying not to stare himself.

But...he definitely hadn't noticed the wings before. He would have noticed wings, right? Even with that smile and those cheekbones to distract.

He realised, dazedly, that he'd drifted closer. One step, two step, three, until he was standing right over Atlas. Close enough to touch.

"Get out." Atlas sounded strained. "Now." His fingers – his claws – dug into the threadbare carpet.

Holden wanted to run his fingers through Atlas's blond hair. He wanted to kiss his parted lips, the line of his jaw, the beautiful curve of his throat. He wanted to touch every inch of Atlas that he could. He wanted Atlas's hands on him, sure and just as smitten as Holden had been for years, and he'd do anything, offer anything if—

"Holden."

The sharp snap of his name cleared Holden's mind a little. He shook his head and backed up. "Sorry. I—"

What the hell was he doing? Heat rose to his cheeks, mortified.

There were a lot of reactions one could have to seeing their best friend suddenly sprout wings, but Holden was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to just drool over his roommate like some kind of neanderthal. He'd done such a good job of not letting his stupid feelings impact their stupid friendship until stupid now too.

It wasn't like he'd never caught a glimpse of Atlas without his clothes before. It had never made him like – he would never have – but would it be so bad if he just—?

No. Something was definitely wrong.

Holden whirled around, heading back for the door. He'd opened it only a crack when Atlas's hand slammed down on it, shutting it again. The lock clicked as Atlas bracketed him with an arm on either side. They weren’t quite touching, but they were close enough that he could feel the heat of Atlas against his back.

He hadn't even heard Atlas move. His breath hitched.

Atlas groaned. He let his head thunk against the door, above Holden's left shoulder, as he drew in ragged gasps.

Holden heard him swearing and muttering under his breaths. He caught a few words that’s sounded suspiciously like ‘bloody scheming bastard vampires’ and a much more familiar ‘shitshitshit’.

Up close, Atlas’s new cologne was…was it cologne? Holden’s head felt cloudy again. He dug his nails into his palms, desperately shoving down the truly ridiculous urge to turn around and kiss Atlas immediately.

“What the hell is happening?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You have wings. You have – I feel –”

“You’re supposed to be in class for the next three hours!”

“My class was cancelled,” Holden said. “Some last minute—”

Atlas caught hold of his hips, spinning him as if it was absolutely nothing, pressing him back against the door.

The bit of Holden’s brain that wasn’t too busy with oh, yes please reminded him that Atlas was not that bloody strong. He should not be able to do that. He always skipped the gym when Holden went, despite looking like that.

“What are you?” The obvious question finally penetrated the fog.

Atlas’s attention lingered on his lips, seeming…distracted.

“Incubus,” he murmured. He’d always had a nice voice, but in that moment, that word, it was like caramel. Sweet on Holden’s senses. “God, you’re pretty. Sharing a room was a terrible idea.”

It took a second for the actual response to register, let alone the rest.

Incubus.

“What?” Holden yelped.

It was all some elaborate joke.

(Atlas didn’t do pranks.)

It was impossible.

(Those wings looked very real, no matter how impossible they were.)

How had it taken 14 years for him to notice his best friend was an incubus?

(Did that mean he didn’t really have a crush on his best friend? It was just – what he was?)

Atlas’s fingers grazed just slightly beneath Holden’s jumper, blazing hot against the skin above his hips.

Holden asked no coherent questions whatsoever. He didn’t even manage an incoherent word. Every reasonable thing he should have been considering vanished in a haze.

His best friend was an incubus? Sure! Whatever. Nothing mattered except the fact that there was really far too much distance between them. Atlas’s mouth was right there and – Holden couldn’t have said which of them initiated the kiss, but it was ravenous and he was putty against the door. Head empty. All need and greed and wanting. He finally got to tangle his fingers into Atlas’s always annoyingly perfect hair and –

The lock clicked.

Faster than Holden could fully comprehend, the door was open and Atlas had bodily shoved him into the corridor. He landed sprawling and ungraceful on his butt.

He had a second to peer up, bewildered, at the look of absolute raw desire on Atlas’s face before the door slammed shut. The lock clicked again.

The texts pinged on his phone a moment later.

Don’t come back until I say so.

Will explain later.

Sorry.

Well, crap.

Holden pressed a hand to his mouth, catching his breath and his sanity with Atlas out of view. Then he went to the uni library to research everything he could about incubi.

By the time Atlas texted him that evening, he was ready.

#incubus #incubi #m/m #m/m romance #writing #story #ficlet #supernatural creatures #writeblr #writing snippet

[shegatsby]

i'm aching for feyd rautha x fremen reader!!! perhaps soulmate situation where feyd has dreams about reader and is UTTERLY OBSESSED (please i yearn) ((im so normal about feyd rautha)) also pls drink water and its no rush :))

A/n; HIIIII! This is my first Feyd-Rautha fanfic so go easy on me. Thank you so much for this request, not me giggling and blushing as i was writing this. English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry for any typos.

Words; 5.315K (wow i out did myself lol)

Warnings; War, killing, abduction

He was running, he could feel the rain on his face but he kept running. Moist sand and wet mélange filled his nostrils, the damp sand stuck to his heavy boots, the sound they made was similar to walking on the fresh snow. He never thought he could smell things in his dreams, ‘’Find me.’’  A woman’s soft voice echoed in his ears, ‘’I dare you.’’ And there she was, standing in her stillsuit, hair long and wet, over the years her face was getting more and more clear. Before Feyd could reach and grab her he woke up. He was sweating and he wasn’t in Arrakis, he was in Giedi Prime, House Harkonnen. He could feel the cold satin of his sheets, ‘’Who are you?’’ he whispered into thin air, nothing moved or made a sound. His room was dark, as usual. He rose to his feet and walked to the large glass, his side of the castle over looked the volcanic wasteland that was Giedi Prime, heavly industrialized, low photosynthesis. Harkonnen’s kept the original forests but other than that everything was stone and building.

Feyd-Rautha was a rational man when it comes to these things, however, he kept having these dreams since he was a child. In his dreams he was either in his home planet or Arrakis, he wasn’t alone. The girl in his dreams had always been distant, over the years the girl kept coming closer and closer. Last few months he could see her face clearly. She was a beauty, none of his concubines could match it. Sometimes they would sit in silence or he would chase her… he was going to lose his mind. He needed answers to these dreams, with the arrival of Reverend Mother Helen Mohiam he hoped to get those answers he was looking for. He ordered his men to keep the Reverend Mother at greeting room, when he got ready he left his chambers in a hasty manner. He was a man of action and he didn’t like waiting or making his guest wait, he had a reputation to keep.

Reverend Mother was seated at one of the metal chairs, covered in black clothing, she fitted the room, the castle of Harkonnen was mostly black and grey, servants and soldiers had to wear the same colors as well.

At first Reverend Mother had to test him to see if he was human or not, he followed her instructions and put his hand in a box, he had to endure the pain which was something he got used to and he even enjoyed getting hurt but this was something else. He could feel his hand burn and freeze at the same time, visions ran at a fast speed in his mind’s eyes. He was eager to prove himself so he didn’t flinch, he could feel sweat running down his face, Reverend Mother didn’t not react at all.

‘’You have passed the test.’’ She announced in a flat tone but he knew she was impressed.

‘’My turn.’’  He said which confused the old woman, he was kneeling for this test so he bolted to his feet and took a step back. Hands clasped at his back, he seemed intimidating in his black tunic and pants. His boots made him look much taller than others and he was already a tall man.

‘’What do you know about dreams?’’

‘’Tell me yours and I shall reveal the truth.’’ His eyes searched her face, which was difficult to see through her thin scarf, ‘’I-‘’ he started, ‘’I see.. her.’’ He was hesitant. Reverend Mother noticed the way he said ‘’her’’ this woman must be of importance. ‘’Go on.’’ Old age made her curious for gossip and she thought she was about hear the juiciest one, she didn’t know she was going to discover something larger. Larger than anyone on this Universe.

‘’I’m usually in Arrakis, it rains, and I see her. She speaks to me. She wants me to find her in the desert. I believe she is a Fremen.’’ He shortly explains, Reverend Mother leaned in, ‘’What does he say exactly?’’ Feyd felt naked before this old witch. ‘’ ‘Find me.’ She says, I could hear her in my mind. She wants us to unite.’’ There was a silence, his patience running thin, was he going insaner than usual or these dreams meant something?

‘’Arrakis… rain.. a girl…’’ he heard Reverend Mother whisper to herself, ‘’How long have you been having these dreams?’’ she asked, she was the one who suppose to give answers to him and yet she was questioning him. ‘’Since my childhood.’’ And with that Reverend Mother quickly stood up, which was quicker than expected, considering her age. ‘’I must speak to your uncle Baron Vladimir. Wait us here.’’ He had no choice now, the Pandora’s box was opened. He would rather fight in the arena than waiting here. He was pacing in the large room that had black marble floors, his boots made distinctive sound son the cold floor, his head turned to the doors of the room when they were opened by the servants, his uncle came floating, next to him Reverend Mother followed, Baron was ear to ear smiling, ‘’Hearing these news on your name day is nothing but fate.’’ The old man announced, it was true. Today was Feyd-Rautha’s name day and a ceremony was waiting for him later. ‘’Congratulations, Reverend Mother here says you’ll be the one who raise Harkonnen to its glory.’’ He said with his raspy voice, he seemed joyful even, well, a joy that fit him, cold and calculating. Feyd’s snake like neck moved in questioning, ‘’What about Rabban?’’ his brother Rabban was in Arrakis, ruling in the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, mostly failing him and their family. ‘’He will be reassigned.’’ In their family this meant that it was his last chance, or he would be killed.

‘’Enjoy Arrakis.’’ A cunning smile made him look even more terrifying. He left them alone, Feyd was confused but also the idea of controlling spice made his body electric. ‘’To fulfill your destiny you have to find that Fremen and to secure your place you have to join your house with their kind. They shall be easier to control. I’m sure she is waiting for you to claim her.’’ Reverend Mother was testing the waters, she watched Feyd-Rautha’s expression change into predator mode after she spoke. Now it was a hunt for him and she knew that he won’t stop until he fulfilled his mission.

Feyd knew what Reverend Mother meant but to join with the barbarians?! His house’s reputation could be at stake. He was a psychotic killer but he had rules. He will not tolerate anything that might humiliate his family name. he didn’t want to think further about this so he found himself marching to the arena. After the games he was suppose to have his ceremony and be shipped to Arrakis, his new home.

His ‘’ascending’’ to the title of ‘’Na-Baron’’ was well organized. Rabban lost his rank so it was his time to shine, bring glory and fame to his name and his house. Among the loud cries and applauses Baron Vladimir held his nephew’s face in his sweaty palms and whispered into his ears, ‘’Do not fail me son.’’ It wasn’t coming from affection, it was a threat. He knew his missions;

‘’Control Rabban,

Take over the spice production and multiply the income,

Fulfill what Reverend Mother said.’’

First two were easy…

That night he was shipped to Arrakis with an army and his most loyaly men. As soon as he landed he had one thing in mind, ‘’make Rabban pay for his foolishness’’, ‘’My Na-Baron,’’ servants greeted him outside the castle of Arrakis, hot sun hit his face, he could smell the mélange. ‘’Lord Rabban is waiting for you.’’ As she walked to the Coordination Chambers he watched servants bow in fear and respect. He liked what he saw. Without waiting for servants to open the door for him he barged in. ‘’Rabban!’’ he yelled in animalistic anger. No one noticed the was Rabban flinched but him. ‘’You have humiliated our house,’’ he took a step towards him, ‘’you have humiliated me.’’ And another step. ‘’Kiss my foot.’’ He said cautiously, waiting for Rabban’s reaction and since none came Feyd pushed Rabban to the floor, ‘’Kiss or die.’’ Rabban  had no choice but to give in.

Following days were easy. Fremens didn’t know the change in command so first attack was successful. Spice production was slow but promising. Other houses started to send gifts and letters to him to gain his favor. ‘’He who controls the spice controls the entire galaxy.’’ his uncle used to say to him as a child and he was right.

Weeks passed and every time he launched an attack he was also at the front with his men. Main reason was his thirst for blood and gore, however a side of him was looking for something or rather someone. Ever since his arrival his dreams became more frequent and vivid.

The girl kept saying ‘’You’re close.’’

She must be near he could feel it, but among thousands of Fremen girls how was he suppose to find her?

Whenever they attacked he ordered his men to gather Fremen girls who were close to his age, after capturing them he would look at their faces and try to find her but his research was in vain, or so he thought.

Months passed, he was growing restless and Fremen knew how to fight. Disputes were bringing imbalance to the realm. He was refusing to sleep due to the fact that you were in his dreams and he was making plans, growing tactics to find you.  Also he didn’t have much time since the Padishah Emperor Shaddam sent him a letter;

‘’Find what you are looking for and bring stability.’’

It was a direct order otherwise he knew that Padishah Emperor would sent his soldiers, Sardaukars to take over what he had established so far.

After that letter his attacks grew more persistent.

‘’Na-Baron, Prisoners are here.’’ Without changing his blood dripping battle suit he marched to the room where the prisoners were kept. They were all on their knees, hands tied behind their backs. ‘’How many?’’ he asked to his general, removing his leather gloves, ‘’20 my Na-Baron.’’

Sleepless night had a toll on him, he was more on the edge than usual. It was going to be almost a year since he came to Arrakis. Fighting with Fremens put the spice production at risk and he couldn’t have that. ‘’I am looking for someone.’’ He began, Fremens knew by now that he was looking for a girl, old Fremens believed that it was a part of a prophecy long forgotten, most of the young ones thought it was a Benne Gesserit tactic to control them.

‘’Eyes up!’’ he yelled, and they looked up to meet his vicious gaze, at the corner one of the girls looked up and immediately lowered her gaze. ‘’You!’’ he pointed to the girl, ‘’Bring her to me.’’ He ordered and two of his men dragged her to him. His pale hand held her face to look deeply but it was false alarm, it wasn’t her. ‘’Why did she move her eyes though?’’ he thought. She seemed like she was holding something… information? Maybe.

‘’It seems like you know me.’’ He said quietly, ‘’I don’t know you.’’ He northerner accent filled his ears. Her voice was shaking and her fear gave it away, ‘’Ohh,’’ Feyd-Rautha loved to see fear in people’s eyes. ‘’You and I, we’re going to have a talk.’’ He moved his head slightly to the left and his men took the girl to a questioning room. Others moved in their places with an uneasy manner.

Feyd didn’t want to waste no time so he followed his men to the room. Inside the castle was kept at a mild temperature, outside was hell. He never thought he could get used to the heat but he adapted.

Feyd watched his men chain the girl to a metal chair and also watched the scared girl observe the room. Brown walls and floors were covered in blood, there were human parts here and there. ‘’What are you going to do to me?’’ she asked trying to stay calm. He wasn’t in the mood for torture since he just came from a battle, ‘’Nothing if you aid and abet. You might even have a luxurious life for your family in the city.’’ Rich Fremens lived in the city. He was actually being honest, she could tell. ‘’Tell me what do you know.’’ If one looked closer it could be seen that he was tired, after all he was human and human beings had their limits. ‘’Promise you won’t hurt her.’’

With the mention of you, his posture got straighter, ‘’I don’t intend to.’’

‘’And promise you let those women go to their homes.’’ Feyd felt generous today, ‘’Set them free.’’ He ordered which shocked his men, ‘’But my Na-Baron,’’ his solider’s sentence cut short since Feyd cut his throat. ‘’You heard me.’’ He warned his other soldiers. ‘’Now,’’ he looked at her, ‘’your turn.’’

The girl seemed cautious. ‘’I… I think I know who you’re looking for.’’ She started, ‘’I have a friend, since childhood. She keeps telling me her dreams of a man.. description fits you perfectly.’’ She finished as if an invisible burden lifted off of her shoulders. ‘’She is a respected soldier’s daughter, they live in a secluded cave, well guarded. It won’t be easy.’’ Feyd smiled in anticipation,

‘’I don’t want easy.’’

The girl gave the exact coordinates, as he was leaving he stopped in his tracks, ‘’What’s her name?’’

‘’Y/N.’’

He rested during the day, he wanted to attack to their Sietch when its late night. ‘’Y/N…’’ he whispered like praying to Gods. ‘’A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’’

The sietch was in deep desert but his men were perfectly prepared. He positioned his men at the exists and entrances of the sietch.

They blasted the stone walls which were doors, Fremen knew how to be one with the desert. Fremen were ambushed, they didn’t expect the attack but they were brave, sietch was big with multiple floors. Since Y/N was a well respected soldier’s daughter she must be upstairs with other higher ranks. He moved past everyone, climbing the stone stairs, screams were music to his ears. He pushed and kicked everyone who was on his way. Upstairs the rooms had thin green curtains that were see-through. He didn’t bother with crying children and their mothers, his one and only mission was to find Y/N and leave with her. As he was walking carefully on the long hall which had rooms on his left and right he felt a presence at his back. His blade crashed with another. The woman was in her stillsuit just like others, her face and hair covered with a dirty beige scarf, only eyes could be seen. ‘’Move out of my way girl and you will live.’’ When the girl heard his voice he noticed the hand she was holding the blade go soft for a split second but gained strength once again.

Feyd’s suit was specifically designed for him, head to toe he was dipped in jet black, a mask covering his face yet his eyes were there like dark diamonds. Shining with thirst. She didn’t say anything and made her move. She was passionate, it didn’t go unnoticed by him, maybe she had a thirst for blood just like him. Feyd stepped back and her crysknife licked the air. ‘’I gave you chance.’’ Feyd said before he launched at her, he was swift but the girl answered every stroke. ‘’You are good…’’ he was out of breath, her stance was weak, ‘’but not that good.’’ And they danced. Feyd made her trip, Fremen girl wasn’t even making a sound while attacking, she was like the desert, silent. Her moves made him think of swans, elegant yet bold. Feyd could feel that tonight he was going to satisfy his need for blood. 

Fremen girl threw sand to his face to get advantage because she was unstable, ‘’Unfair.’’ She heard him say. He rubbed his eyes and had to remove his mask. She saw him under the orange glowglobe, her knife dropped and ran to the opposite direction.

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t a stupid man. This action of hers gave her true identity. Like a predator he began the chase, it was thrilling. It wasn’t easy to spot her among Fremens who wear the same colored suits but it made the chase more fun. Something in him told him to go to the nearest exit and he did.

He had fewer men outside since most of the action was inside the sietch, the sand was covered in blood and his man laying stiff on the ground. One of his men lost his weapon, maybe she took it?

He closed his eyes to listen to the desert, he could hear swift motions, he followed where the sound coming from, there were large rocks to his left and he moved. Someone jumped at him behind the rocks, he fell to the ground, smell of spice made him a bit dizzy but he composed himself quickly. Two small hands grabbed his throat, sitting on top of him. She was screaming in ecstasy, maybe she never killed someone and she thought this was going to be her first. Feyd thought it was cute that she thinks she could kill him. With all of his strength he moved to his side dragging her along with him. Now she was laying on the ground, with one of his hand he pinned her hands above her head, he didn’t forget to give all of his weight to make her stay put, her legs wrapped around his waist. With his other hand he found his knife and cut her scarf. Her pure face revealed under Arrakis’s two glowing moons. His animalistic smile grew, ‘’Found you.’’ She was struggling to get away, like an animal trapped in a cage. ‘’Sleep tight.’’ And he injected a sedative, in seconds her shiny eyes closed.

Arrakis has woken up to a new day, a new era one might say. Na-Baron was energetic, he woke up to a letter from Reverend Mother; ‘’Now that you got what you came for it won’t be hard to continue.’’

It was a simple message for an ordinary man’s eyes yet Feyd-Rautha wasn’t an ordinary man. It meant that ‘’Bring stability by uniting his house with the Fremens.’’ Last night’s events showed that he needed much time to break her to his liking. He had so many questions to ask her…

After a really long time Feyd had a boyish excitement. He was having his breakfast eagerly in his bed chambers when his door knocked and his Mentat walked in. ‘’How is she?’’ he asked eating his beef. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is creating chaos. Unstable.’’ He chuckled, sucked the juice off of his thumb, ‘’Take me to her.’’

She was kept in a guest room, probably biggest room she had ever had the luxury of staying, his Mentat went in first and Na-Baron heard the immediate screams from her, he also heard some metal clinging and barged in. She was chained at the end of the room, her hands and neck. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ he yelled to his Mentat, ‘’Why is my bride chained to a wall?!’’ he could feel the rage in his veins. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is aggressive and killed a servant. We had no choice.’’

‘’Leave us.’’

When the door closed a thick silence occupied the room. She was standing in her stillsuit, hair a mess, and anger in her pretty eyes, eyes that were so familiar to him. He slowly approached, watched her move to the opposite direction, as he got close he could see the red marks on her wrists and neck. He came to a stop at a white line on the floor, his Mentat must have painted it.

‘’I’m not going to hurt you little dove.’’ His voice was calm which puzzled her, he was yelling at his Mentat seconds ago. His raspy tone which was inherited in his bloodline made her take a step back. ‘’Are you hungry?’’ she was shocked at his questioning. She only nodded, ‘’If you promise to not attack my servants they will bathe you and give you clean clothes, later you can have a fulfilling meal.’’ He tilted his head, his sharp jaw pointed like a blade, ‘’How does that sound?’’ Feyd could tell that she was tired and strangers made her uneasy, Fremens were a close-knit community, didn’t like strangers but they weren’t strangers, they haven’t been for a long time. Even though she didn’t let her guard down he could feel that she was less tense. ‘’I will be back.’’

After an hour or so Feyd was informed that she didn’t attack anyone, let the maids bathe her and dress her. Now she was eating, perfect timing.

Feyd-Rautha checked himself on the mirror, he had sleeveless black tunic and black pants, black boots. As usual. He left his chambers to visit her.

He opened the guest room door to see her eating, two maids waiting at her back. Y/N stopped eating when she saw her. She had a dark purple dress, showing her elegant shoulders, as he cautiously approached she smelled like a garden of roses, her hair brushed and braided. ‘’Leave us.’’ His eyes never leaving her. As the maids were leaving he didn’t forget to press the button on his chest, he had an invisible shield. Just in case.

‘’Please,’’ he said ‘’continue.’’ He sat next to her, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. In the menu there was red wine, cooked fish and fruit. ‘’I’ve chosen the menu for you, is it to your liking?’’ she took a sip from her wine to clean her throat, half of the fish was eaten already. ‘’What is this?’’ she pointed at the fish, this was the first time Feyd heard her in real life. He had a victorious smile which Y/N found it odd. ‘’Fish. Have you ever seen a live one before?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’They live in the sea, lakes, rivers…’’ he stood up to move close to the wall to wall window, ‘’Imagine this desert filled with water. In that water animals like fish lives.’’ He turned to see her reaction, her eyes shone interest, ‘’I’m going to take you to planets that have sea.’’ He was speaking more to himself.

‘’What do you want?’’ she asked harshly, ‘’I want you.’’

Fremens were up front about their thoughts and feelings but seeing an outsider being that way shocked her. ‘’We have the same dreams since childhood. Am I mistaken?’’ he had to be sure. She nodded, ‘’Don’t you think this is.. fate?’’ yes, she was having the same dreams of him, last night when she saw his face her body was in fight or flight and she choose flight. All she wanted to do right now get the knife from the table and jab it to his pale neck, she thought nothing was stopping her so slowly her left hand went to the table, Feyd’s back was turn but he had pointy ears. She jumped from her seat to his back, like a monkey but an invisible energy was pushing the knife from his neck. Feyd’s laughter echoed in the room and with one move he pulled her from his back and made her stand in front of him, holding her hands behind her back, now they were glued. This was the first time they were this close without war gear, he could feel her breasts pressing his chest, up close she noticed how smooth his arms were, and how masculine he was. ‘’I didn’t expect the least from you.’’ He said smiling, he was mad, that’s for sure. She lost her temper.

‘’You murdered my kin! You killed my family, my friends! I would rather die!’’ the fire in her eyes intrigued him. Her eyes were getting blurry, she was fighting to escape but his grip was strong.

‘’If they gave me the spice willingly none of this would happen.’’ He said with a serious tone, ‘’Let go of me!’’ she screamed, ‘’I would rather be eaten by Shai Hulud than be your bride!’’ she was crying now, her vision was blurry and Feyd let her go. Y/N’s tired arms which held bruises from last night hitting his chest, ‘’I have no one-‘’ she was having an attack, ‘’because of you-‘’ Feyd felt a lump in his throat, it was strange to him, he never thought he would feel sadness but here he was. He achieved everything he ever wanted but why did he have a bitter taste in his mouth?

She was shaking violently, Feyd held her, the reality of the situation hit her like a sand storm. People that she called family were gone by the hands of this man who was holding her so delicately…

These hands that were brushing her hair committed atrocities…

Months of hiding and fighting made her fall to her knees, she lost to the outsider.

‘’You have me now.’’ She heard the Na-Baron say, ‘’Shh,’’ she felt his plump lips on her hair, ‘’you have me little dove.’’ Her body gave in and she fainted.

‘’It was a seizure due to stress my Na-Baron.’’ Feyd-Rautha was by her side, she was sleeping, when Mentat left he found himself holding her hand and climbing to bed. ‘’What if this doesn’t work out?’’

The pressure of keeping his family name at its glory kicked in. Feyd lived his life to be the perfect Harkonnen, could he loose it all?

Reverend Mother was suppose to come to Arrakis in a few days to see Y/N and question her, they only had few days to get to know each other. What would happen if Reverend Mother didn’t see Y/N as a right match for their breeding program? But the dreams… element of fate.. it was too much for him. He let his body relax next to Y/N’s, still holding her hand he fell asleep.

Y/N felt a presence next to her and her eyes opened immediately. It was night, and a glowglobe lit the room dimly, the night was silent. To her left she saw him, sleeping peacefully, her hand in his, she wondered how could someone commit murder day and night and then sleep like this. No care in the world, she thought, how wrong she was.

At first she thought her dreams to be simple imagination of children, later in life the dreams grew frequent. In her dreams she kept seeing him holding her hand and leading her to new planets, the first person she told about these dreams was her father who took her to an old lady, after having a mélange session the old woman started to scream ‘’So it’s written!’’ there was an old prophecy long forgotten, a Fremen girl was going to marry an outsider which would bring stability. For years her people had fought, hid in the shadows, she never believed the prophecy and moved on but her father and her close friend and that old woman believed religiously. She turned to observe him. He looked so pure she didn’t want to believe that this man was the man she fought back at home. ‘’Like what you see?’’ his raspy voice had amusement. She didn’t move or said nothing. He opened her blue eyes, his hand gently went up to trace the outlines of her face, ‘’Give me a chance to introduce myself.’’ And he kissed her hand, together they fallen asleep again.

The next morning they had breakfast in silence, ‘’I want to show you something today.’’ He announced and he took her to the garden inside the castle. Years ago his ancestors built a garden inside that well kept and full of flowers from different planets. Y/N had never seen these before, she read about plants because she was interested in them but seeing them in real life was something else. She found herself smelling every flower, Feyd noticed the huge smile on her face, they sat among the flowers, neither of them dared to utter a word. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, she was in awe of this place and Feyd was in awe of her. She looked divine in her orange dress, she looked positively care free.

All day they didn’t speak a word to each other, Feyd gave some orders, other than that he intend to keep the silence. In silence there was no rejection, no fighting. They had dinner together, and he watched her take off her clothes wear her night gown and lay on the bed. They were in his bed chambers so he also changed and went to bed. There was a space between them which Feyd didn’t like. He was discovering new things about himself such as desire to have physical contact. Her back was turned to him, he came close and hugged her from behind, she didn’t move.

The days that followed were the same. Slowly Feyd started to give her information about his life here and there, she listened intently but her heart was with the desert. So many times Feyd caught her staring out the window, Y/N also made comments to things he said or shared memories of her past. She had to make a decision but she wasn’t in hurry since the Harkonnen’s and Fremens stopped fighting since she was captured. That night she felt the cold side of the bed and woke up, Feyd was gone, yes they slept in the same bed for days but nothing happened. She rose to her feet and fell on her knees, the castle was under attack. Sirens could be heard everywhere. Out the window she saw Fremens attack the castle, she found a knife from Feyd’s closet and left the room. The halls were packed with Harkonnen soldiers, marching outside to meet the attack and they had heavy machines, also their numbers higher than Fremens. She had to find him and put an end to this.

Bare foot she was running, they all seemed the same, pale skin and black suits. When Y/N saw his Mentat she ran to him, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she yelled, it was chaos, chaose everywhere. ‘’My lady you shouldn’t be outside.’’ She didn’t care, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she demanded. ‘’At the entrance, greeting the Fremens.’’ And she ran. Mentat was right he was fighting and killing her kin, he was a skilled killing machine.  ‘’FEYD!’’ she screamed at the top of her lungs. Fremens that knew her stopped in their tracks, shocked to see her in a luxurious night gown, they were here to collect her. ‘’FEYD!’’ the Fremen he was fighting stopped when he saw her and it made Feyd stop too, among dust and falling men he turned to face her. He was covered in blood, holding knives in both of his hands, he slashed open the Fremen’s throat and walked to her. She could feel her blood run cold.

‘’How could you?!’’ she attacked, Feyd immediately held her hand that was holding the knife, her knife dropped.

‘’Mary me!’’ he screamed, ‘’Mary me and I’ll stop the war.’’

Y/N looked around, watching her people fall to the sand and lose it was too much to bear, it was high time someone put an end to this and if it was her then she had to fulfill her destiny.

She said nothing but held his face and kissed his plump lips.

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #dune 2 #dune part 2 #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #austin butler #harkonnen #requests are open #request #requests open #reqs open #send requests #writing requests #feyd rautha harkonnen #house harkonnen #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Sampo, Blade, Dan Heng, Welt, and Argenti getting a massive bouquet of flowers and cake as a gift from their s/o?

Argenti: loves giving people flowers and such.

It doesn’t matter who the recipient is either:

Elderly people who are lonely, elderly couples who are still together and very much in love, Young couples, Single people, people in general; Hello! Even stray cats, stray dogs and birds alike get a flower or two and animal safe cakes to eat.

Argenti gives EVERYONE and everything flowers and never asks for anything in exchange.

So when you’re the one to finally give this man his long over due -but much deserved- flowers. You were having an hard time trying to hold up an entire bouquet of a hundred ruby red roses in one hand, and a box of red velvet daisy cakes in the other.

You loved this man dearly and believed that he deserved nothing but the absolute best of the best.

Needless to say this man was swooning at the beauty of your gifts and accepts them wholeheartedly, as he then hold them close to his chest and inhaled the sweet scent deeply, humming in content as a smile graced his lips. He looked so pretty when he smiled like that, then again he was always pretty to you but in that moment he was so ethereal it took your breath away.

‘Thank you my beloved.’ He said as he kisses your cheek. ‘I shall treasure these flowers until their petals loose colour and their stems can no longer support them, but they’ll still be beautiful regardless because you gave me them.’ You mentally cursed Argenti and his seemingly effortless way with words as you burrow yourself into his side.

‘You deserve those flowers and I’m just ashamed that you didn’t receive them earlier.’ You said and Argenti chuckled, falling more and more in love with your beautiful heart by the second.

‘I don’t need flowers when I have you my dear, now would you mind in helping me eat these lovely cakes?’ Argenti asks as he picks up two of the red velvet cakes, admiring the skill that went into them. ‘I don’t think I can eat them all by myself and I would much prefer being in the company of my little flower.’ He concludes as he puts one of the cakes in your hands with a smile.

How could you say no to that face.

Welt: this man probably has had flowers from the likes of March, Dan Heng, Himeko, Pom Pom and Caelus/Stelle but they were nowhere comparable to the bouquet of flowers that you’ve bought for him.

He’s a little flustered at the gesture because wow that’s a lot of flowers for an old man like him. However he will take them as a gesture of goodwill and respect for you.

‘What’s the occasion? I’m certain I’m not missing any important events for such a gift.’ He mutters to himself as he squints at the calendar on his phone. Even with glasses on Welt could feel his eyes strain against the bright light of the phone screen. (Grandpa core.)

You giggle at the sight, if never failed to make you smile whenever he did the whole squinting his eyes to look at the screen, it was unabashedly Welt and you loved him regardless. Respectful older men was your type and Welt covered all basis of this.

‘No, I just wanted to give you some gifts as to thank you for everything you’ve done, not just for me but everyone.’ You told him as he puts away his phone and smiles at you. ‘I appreciate the gifts but you didn’t have to feel obligated to get me anything.’ He says, feeling as though there were other people more deserving of such generous gifts than him.

‘There’s no obligation Welt.’ You defended. ‘I wanted to get you something because you’re worth a thousand bouquets and so much more!’ Welt was moved by your words and made his way towards you, holding your face in his hands as he kisses your forehead softly.

‘Thank you. I shall treasure them forever.’

Sampo: acts like he receives flowers all the time but he’s bluffing and you know it from the way he’d trip over his own words.

He’s deeply touched that you got an old fool like him flowers and sweet cakes.

‘All this for ol Sampo? Oh you shouldn’t have.’ He’d say as he’s wiping a tear from his eyes before he then practically salivating over the sweet treats that smelt rich in sweetness in every aspect of its creation.

‘Only the best for my favourite masked fool.’ You replied fondly as you watched Sampo act like a kid in a sweet shop with the way his eyes brightened and how his smile seems to widen more over time.

‘Your favourite masked fool?’ Sampo echoed, pouting as he puts his hands on his hips. ‘How many other masked fools do you know besides me?’ He asks, not liking the idea of sharing you with the likes of Giovanni or something , you were his buddy! He can go find his own buddy elsewhere!

You chuckled as you ran a thumb across his pouty lip, pressing a kiss there because you could along with the fact that Sampo was an absolute sucker for your kisses. ‘You’re the only one I ever need to know because everyone else fails in comparison to the great Sampo Koski.’ You praised him as Sampo buried his head into your neck and attached his arms to your waist, drawing you closer into him.

‘Thank you for the flowers and the cakes.’ He whispers. ‘I really like them…will you…do this again for me next time?’ You kissed the top of his head. ‘You’re very welcome Sampo and of course I will, I’ve got to keep you happy somehow.’ You told him and under his breath Sampo then said, ‘how can I be made even more happy when I’m happy enough as it is with you already here in my arms?’

Blade: skeptical.

Never, ever, ever has he ever been given flowers. Never.

So needless to say he’s a little on edge and side eye the harmless bouquet of flowers as though they just personally insulted him.

‘What’s this.’ He’d ask.

‘A bouquet of flowers and a couple of Black Forest Gateau cakes.’ You responded as your smile melted off of your face. ‘You don’t like them do you.’

‘No.’ Blade, feeling the hurt within your voice cut into him deeply, says immediately. ‘I’m just not accustomed to being given gifts because no one in their right mind would give someone like me flowers and cakes. I don’t deserve them.’ He adds as a somber silence befell you both.

‘Well I think you do.’ You said after a while and Blade could only raise a brow at you. ‘It’s true! I’ll buy you a thousand bouquet of flowers and boxes of cakes if it means proving to you that you’re worth such things.’ You doubled down on your promise and Blade couldn’t help but smile a little at your determination to prove him wrong. It was a trait that he loved about you but wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

‘Even if the trail I leave behind is one of blood, death and pain?’ He asks.

‘Even then.’ You reaffirmed and Blade felt a warmth flood through him then and there as he sighs and takes the bouquet into his arms. ‘I’m no florist,’ he starts as he was just about to take the flowers up to his room before stopping to look at you over his shoulder, ‘but I’ll try to keep them alive, for you.’ He adds and your smile came back in full force.

A sight he loves to see as often as he could.

‘Everything has to die at some point, even flowers.’ You told him but he wasn’t having it.

‘Not if the flowers are from you, then I’ll keep trying in getting them to live forever.’ Blade replied and it was honestly the most romantic thing he’s ever said in that moment.

Dan Heng: thinks they were for someone else at first.

He, like welt, receives flowers for the rest of the Astral express crew now and then, but they paled in comparison to your bouquet of flowers and cakes.

‘Am I really worth all this?’ He asks, not so certain that he was in fact worth all the effort you’ve put into getting him such a radiant bouquet and delicious treats.

‘You are and I won’t hear otherwise Dan Heng.’ You said as you held him from behind, kissing his cheek that burned red afterwards, making you smile knowing that you still had that effect on him after so long.

‘Is this want to expect now? Bouquet and cakes?’ He says as he takes in the fact that you remembered each of his favourite flowers, and managed to have the florist organise them in a way that emphasised the beauty of each and every individual flower as they seamlessly blended into one another, almost as though it were a painting.

‘Only if you want it to be.’ You replied softly and Dan Heng gently rubbed a soft baby blue petal between his finger before letting them go, the faint smell of flora bringing about a sense of calm and belonging to his room. Something that his room severely lacked, but he didn’t understand what was missing back then as he did now, his room was missing your warm touch and it was very much the same for himself.

Dan Heng needed you in his life. He was missing your presence before he even met you, almost as though you were fated to meet and become romantically intertwined to one another.

‘Only if it’s from you.’ He says softly as he moves to look at. you with a soft expression. ‘Then consider it done.’ You kissed his lips this time, smiling against him in response upon feeling him smile into the kiss.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade x you #hsr dan heng x reader #welt yang x reader #welt Yang imagine #welt Yang imagines #hsr argenti x reader #argenti x reader #Argenti imagine #Argenti imagines #honkai star rail #blade imagine #blade imagines #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #dan heng imagines #Dan heng imagine #sampo x reader #sampo x you #sampo imagine #sampo imagines

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card : Your Inner Goddess

"How would you behave if you knew you were a God or Goddess? How would you treat yourself, how would you treat others? What kind of consciousness would you hold about your smallest actions if you knew their effects influenced the rest of creation? If your awakenings could bring joy to the multitudes? What kind of mindfulness would that inspire?"

- Anodea Judith, Eastern Body, Western Mind: Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self

Within each woman there lies a Goddess. Within you there lies a force to be reckoned with.

She awaits the moment you find her and she awakes.

Take the messages with a grain of salt. First and foremost trust your intuition and your inner Goddess...

Within each pile you will find what your inner goddess craves, how you can service her and what's holding her back.

Pile 1

The Hierophant, The Sun, The Empress

Your inner Goddess is craving warmth and care. A daring little lady she is. She reminds me of P!nk in the music video of U+Ur Hand.

She is sitting pretty with her book and she is not easily impressed. Maybe because she can do EVERYTHING she puts her heart and soul into. Very wise and commanding, yet feminine and seductive.

Your inner Goddess wants you to realize that you deserve abundance and happiness. You need to work on your Solar Plexus. I get that I should also talk to you about your adrenals. You have been hustling for a long time and the Goddess wants you to sit your pretty booty down and take a moment to breathe and realize that you are right on time. Go get it panther!

Pile 2

The Fool, The Star

Wow. This is a very airy energy. Your inner Goddess is here to see and experience everything. She loves being vulnerable and wants to push you out of your comfort zone.

She dares to dream about a better future and she wants to tell you that if you don't dream it and belive it you mights as well not even try.

Just do it, she says, and dives straight out the cliff. She always manages to survive and those negative voices feel jealous that the "naive" Goddess makes the best decisions right on the spot. Trust your intuition and inner Wisdom.

Pile 3

3 Of Cups, The Star, 10 Of Swords, Queen Of Wands

I don't know why, but your inner Goddess gives me "black cat energy" or Scorpio energy. She is that seductive voice that whispers "do it now, analyze it later".

She is affectionate and loves a good foot rub. Your inner Goddess has been through it. She has been accompanying you for SEVERAL lifetimes and she could have been the black cat to your Cleopatra back in ancient Egypt.

I feel like we should not play around with this one cause she might whip us up. Lol. Your inner Goddess comes out during "playtime" if you know what I mean. Look at your Lilith cause she is a lot like that placement in your chart. Alien yet homely. She can be either a storm or a beautiful river. Beware, she scratches anyone that dares hurt you. Payback's a bitch, so is Mrs. Catwoman here.

P.S. Get that sexy leather bra and that rose tattoo. Tie up your man/woman and have fun ! xoxo.

Pile 4

4 Of Cups, The Chariot

Hello brat! No worries, we can all be brats sometimes *wink,wink*.

Little lady, your inner Goddess is FED UP. She is a go getter and she is done watching you be a pessimist. She wants you to get some fuel into this fire.

Your Venus sign can be indicative of what your inner Goddess is like. She is pretty private and this can indicate issues with how you express her energy. All in all, she comes up when you think of what makes you grateful ! Feed her!

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #level up journey #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #seduction #innergoddess #sacred feminine #divine feminine #female worship #feminine energy

[barbiiecams]

rafe asking u to be his girlfriend would surprisingly be adorable!

you guys would have been talking for a good 5 months now, because of course he’s the ‘i’m not ready for a relationship’ king. but one day, he’d text you “be ready at 6 i have a surprise.”

you’d think it’s just another cute date he’s taking you out on, but you were completely wrong. he brings you back to his empty house after he kicked everyone out (except sarah cus who else was gonna help a boy out with this) to do this lil special thing for you.

the house was gorgeous. dim lights, candles, and rose petals trailing to the back yard where a beautiful set up table had a vase, and two plates of delicious food on each side which was definitely catered, his ass can’t cook.

“wow rafe.. this is amazing.” you looked around in shock as you kept walking outside.

he doesn’t say anything but he smiles a little bit, proud that you’re already loving this.

he pulled your chair out for you when you had made it to the table, then as soon as you sat down you guys started eating. but, you could tell rafe’s focus wasn’t on the food, or the endless conversation you were having.

eventually the conversing stopped, and for the first time in his life he seemed, nervous?

“i really appreciate spending time with you, y’know that?” he starts.

internally, you get all smushy cus he’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be!!

“i really appreciate spending time with you too,” you smile.

“yea. and i know we’ve been doing this for a while and i don’t know, something’s just missing.” he says.

“what do you mean?” you were genuinely confused. although he was dumb as hell sometimes, you were satisfied for the most part cus you were constantly spoiled.

he doesn’t respond tho. he just lets out a breath of air, then looks at the sky.

“wow..” he says.

when you looked up, you notice how gorgeous the stars were. he wasn’t saying wow about the stars tho. it was a skywriting that was up there.

in big bold letters said: “will you be my girlfriend?”

something about this really shook you. it was just so perfect, almost like a fairytale theme. a minute had passed by and you finally looked down to see rafe’s hopeful face.

“so?” he asks while standing up.

“i’ve been waiting!” you got up as well and immediately embraces him. it sounded like he let out a sigh of relief, happy to know he wouldn’t be rejected after almost half a year of only talking.

his arms are wrapped around your waist, while yours wrapped around his neck. he pulls away from the hug just to give you a nice, deep kiss.

the whole time, you really couldn’t help but wonder how long this could’ve possible taken. duh, he has money. but this couldn’t have been an easy task for him whatsoever.

you pull away, “how long did this take?”

“don’t worry about it.” he mumbles then goes straight to kissing you again. maybe the 5 months might’ve been worth it.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #drew starkey #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey drabble #outer banks #barbiiecams

[axelsagewrites]

Felix Catton*Best Gift Ever

Pairing: felix x working class!reader

Word count: 1241

Warnings: money struggles, insecurity, rich people

Masterlist Here

You and Felix had been going out for around few months now and it had been amazing. You could tell his friends were defiantly shocked. You were from a different background to put it politely.  Aka he was absolutely filthy rich, and you were your average broke uni student.

This was your first Valentine’s day together and Felix had been going on for the past week about how much you were going to love what he had planned. All you knew was that it involved dinner and likely some kind of gift that was way nicer than anything else you owned.

Being surrounded by so many rich people though had a tendency to make you doubt yourself especially since one of Felix’s ex flings told you that she had bought him a gold necklace for valentines last year. Felix had assured you he’d gotten rid of it ages ago and thought it looked tacky as hell, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach.

You were essentially just waiting for your student loan to come in to get him something but by the time it came in and you paid for all your essentials, you were left with 100 quid for the month. Which considering Felix and his friends liked to go eat and drink out all the time and he always wanted you to come meant it wouldn’t last very long. it didn’t help that whenever Felix would buy you a drink you’d inevitably get comments from one of the jealous rich girls in the group about it.

After writing down your months budget you felt like you were going to cry. You only had a spare tenner to get him something. How the hell does money go away so fast? You tried looking around the local shops for something but there was another issue about going to oxford; everything nearby was designer or name brand.

Your options were essentially a sample size of cologne or one tenth of a bracelet. Eventually you decided to suck it up and just try make something.

There you were on valentines waiting for Felix to arrive at your dorm while you finished wrapping up his present. You had bought a blank CD and spend hours curating the perfect playlist and illegally burning it onto the disc. You’d also diy’d a bunch of kiss notes by writing a small note, kissing the back of it, cutting it out and sealing the whole note in sticky tape so it didn’t smudge.

It had actually turned out pretty cute however when you opened the door and saw Felix holding a huge bouquet of flowers and 2 wrapped presents you felt your heart sink but you tried not to show it, “Roses for my flower,” he grinned, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before pressing the bouquet into your hand, “Happy valentines baby,”

“Happy valentines,” you said, opening the door so he could come in without a care in the world while you internally freaked out.

Felix instantly went to sit on the bed, sitting one of the gifts down and holding the other one out to you, “Cmon open it. I cannot wait to see your reaction,” he said, bouncing up and down like a kid on Christmas.

“Okay okay,” you laughed, taking the gift and starting to carefully unwrap it. Felix reached a hand out, pulling you by your hip to sit on his leg while you opened it. “Wow Felix I can’t accept this,” you gasped as you opened the jewellery box revealing a gorgeous pink pearl necklace.

“Don’t be silly of course you can,” he said, taking the box from your hand, “You deserve it. can you?” he said, nodding at your hair. You moved it out the way while he clasped the necklace around your neck, “and done. Almost as beautiful as you,”

You found yourself melting into his smile. Before you could say anything else however his eyes landed on the gifts you’d just finished wrapping. “Oh, are these for me?” he asked, grinning even wider as you nodded and he reached for the gifts.

You bit your lip as he tore into the first present. The CD. Suddenly it looked so cheap, and you felt your heart break as he flipped it over. you closed your eyes, expecting him to get annoyed but instead you felt him wrap his arm around you as he read the back, “This is so wicked thanks babe,” he said as he laughed at some of the songs you had listed on the back, “We should listen to it tonight. I’ve never had someone make me a CD,”

“Theres the envelope too,” you mumbled, and he lit up all over again as he gently sit the CD down and picked up the envelope.

As he pulled out the kisses his eyebrows knitted in confusion but when he flipped them over, you’d never seen as big a smile on his face, “Did you make these? These are so fucking cute oh my god you’re amazing,” he said, sitting them down so he could wrap his arms so tightly around you, you wondered if you may snap.

“I didn’t expect you to like them so much,” you laughed as Felix finally let you go enough to breathe again, “Sorry it’s not much,” you said, smile dropping slightly when you saw your gifts laid side by side.

“Hey,” Felix said, reaching up a finger to your chin, turning your head to face him, “I love them. Why do you look so sad?” he said, his smile dropping.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m some cheap skate. I wanted to get you something good and- “

Felix practically picked you up and turned you to face him while straddling his lap, “No. don’t feel bad about any of this. I love them. You have no idea how much this means to me. I mean the time and effort you put into this,” he said, looking down at the gifts. “The money doesn’t matter to me. It never has. But you,” he said, moving to hold your hands, “you mean way more than any dumb bit of jewellery,”

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t you apologise,” he said, wrapping his arms around you for a tight hug which you quickly reciprocated. You stayed like that for a solid minute before Felix pulled away, “Now, you need to get ready or we’re going to be late,” he said with that dopey smile back on his face. He was never one to linger on the sadness after all, “Speaking of open it,” he said pulling the last gift over.

You laughed as you tore into the present, Felix getting a kick out how you didn’t try save the wrapping paper like last time. you gasped, yet again at the sight. “And don’t even think of trying to refuse it. seeing you in that is a gift for me too you know,” he joked making you slap his chest before you went to pull the gorgeous red dress out the box. “Now c’mon,” he said, pushing you out his lap before slapping your ass.

“Hey!”

“Cmon get dressed,” he said, leaning back in the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna leave?” you teased, holding the dress up to yourself.

“Nope,” he said, popping the p, “I think I’ll stay right where I am,”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,”

“No. I’m lucky I have you,”

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#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton fluff #felix catton imagine #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn fluff #saltburn imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi fluff

[decojellyfish]

New Friend!

Hi, this is my first post! So please be nice, and if you have any constructive criticism, please comment! I hope you like it :)

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Hybrid AU! TF141 Fancy Kitty! Reader x Rescue Dog! Ghost and Rescue Dog! Soap (Feat. a tiny bit of x Owner! Price) Reader acts fem but is only addressed with “you”

SFW ~ Fluff (Tiny bit of angst, if you squint) Warnings: Mentions of death (though, not directly)

───♡───────────── Beginning Your life was everything you could ask for. Always brushed, fed the finest cuisine a kitty could ask for, and wearing the finest items your owner got you. Your favorite was a collar that looked like a pearl necklace, similar to the one your owner wore daily. Your fur smelled like her too, vintage perfume (her favorite from when she was a teenager, though she always talked about how it was hard to come by now in the modern day), and those little strawberry bonbons she always kept in her purse. And you would always have a pretty pink bow tied around the base of your fluffy tail. Resting your head in her lap, her aged hands petting your white fluffy ears or brushing them with this one brush. A beautiful golden brush, with an ivory plaque on the back that had roses, tulips, and violets painted. It was her favorite from when she was a little girl. Life is good, life is paradise.

Until one day, she didn’t get out of bed. You were still curled up in your pink fluffy cat bed, waiting to hear her sweet voice call out your name whilst serving up your borderline gourmet breakfast. After about an hour, your confusion pushed you out of bed and made you go to your owner’s room. She was still sleeping? Maybe she had a rough time sleeping last night and just felt like sleeping in. Yeah, that was it! She was pretty old after all, why wouldn’t she want to sleep in once in a while? So you curled up atop the floral bedsheets, nice and close to your owner, and waited for her to wake up. You knew she would love to wake up to her pretty little kitty all snuggled up because you missed her so much! So you waited. And waited.

And waited.

A few days passed. Wow, this must’ve been the sleepiest old woman you’d have ever seen! She even had visitors and she didn’t even wake up. It was kind of strange though. They were crying as if they were watching one of those sad movies your owner would watch, with you curled up beside her. The day your world came crashing down would be the day these strange people came to your owner’s house. One of them guided you down to the kitchen, proceeding to feed you some random wet food they found on the counter. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were while you were waiting for your owner to wake up. You hadn’t even noticed the other people carrying your owner’s body out of the house while this one person was playing with you. Jingling your favorite bell toy, calling you a “precious little kitty, so beautiful, yes you are!” the whole time.

That’s when he came into the picture. He came in an hour after these people arrived, it was John Price. Your owner’s son. He had come to visit her a few times, you enjoyed his presence when he was visiting. Price approached you and began to pet your silky, fluffy white hair and fur. “Hey there, pretty thing. How’ve you been holding up?” You didn’t know what he meant by that, but your purrs were all he needed to hear to not fret over you. He figured you were okay and ready to go with him. When he began to guide you out to his car, that was when you realized that he was taking you somewhere! He reassured you that your owner wouldn’t mind having you go on a little trip. You didn’t know you were headed to Price’s own house, all of your belongings in his trunk unbeknownst to you. You, in the present, wouldn’t be mad at Price for taking you home with him and becoming your new owner. No, you wouldn’t mind that at all, John Price was a lovely person! Like his mother. What made you pissed at him was the fact that he never mentioned the two dog hybrids he also had ownership of. That also lived in the house.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had told Ghost and Soap, his two rescue dogs, about the new arrival of a new addition to the family. That of which is a cat. Ghost wasn’t excited about the thought of a cat being in the house all day, every day. It annoyed him, he never really liked cats. Soap, on the other hand, was very excited to meet the new kitty. He had been waiting, impatiently, by the door ever since Price had gone off to retrieve the cat hybrid. Once Price had finally returned, Soap was ecstatic. He pounced on the first being that entered the doorway, licking their face all over. That first being was you. You screeched and hissed at the seemingly rabid dog that was coating you in slobber. He was mucking up your hair, too! Once Soap realized that it wasn’t Price, but, the new kitty that Price had brought home, he grew even more elated. Before he could continue any further with his slobber, Price had pulled Soap away from you, giving you time to breathe. Your tail was beyond fluffy now, you were terrified. Your claws were out and almost gripping the welcome mat by the front door. Soap was confused, Ghost’s guard was up, and Price knew in the back of his head that something like this would happen.

It took you a while to settle in, you were still frightened by the dogs and would try to maintain a distance from them. Ghost would happily oblige, avoiding you whenever you were around. Soap, not so much. He ruined his first impression meeting you! He scared you, and that is not what a good dog does. So, he spent all day and night all over you. He would tell you about his day, and ask you about yours, only for you to stay quiet, and then he would continue talking to you. Soap LOVED being around you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re such a pretty kitty, you smelled good, and your fur was so soft and silky! He loved pawing at the little bell attached to your pink ribbon collar. It was so cute! You looked like royalty with it. Ghost, on the other hand, would mumble about how uppity you seemed. Spoiled, bratty. I mean, at some points you did act like that. Whenever Price didn’t get the right food for you, whenever the sun wasn’t shining in the right spot for you to bask in it, or how loud and annoying the boys’ squeaky toys were. You and Ghost would often avoid each other. Whenever you would accidentally brush up against each other in the halls, it would result in you hissing and him growling loudly, baring his teeth. Price would have to step in and separate you two, telling you both to quit it. But back to Soap, who is an absolute lovebug when it comes to you. He would come by and curl up right next to you whenever you were curled up and lying in the sunlight. At first, you would get up and leave to a new spot. But eventually, you gave up and let him curl up as close to you as he wanted to. Through Soap’s constant yapping, you find out that both he and Ghost were survivors of illegal underground dog fighting. They were from different parts of the UK, but they both ended up at the same shelter. That’s how they met Price. Soap would point out all of his scars, telling their backstories, and talking about all the other injuries he went through. He would also compliment you, as well as attempt to pamper you. You had to give him instructions on how your owner used to do it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It smelled of overwhelming masculinity in the house. It was such a drastic change from the old lady perfume and flowers that your old home smelled like. It took you a bit to get adjusted to the lack of floral prints that your new home had. One day, you were especially homesick. Even though you were in your new, permanent, home, you still missed your old home. It was foggy out that day, the weather not helping your mood at all. You were curled up on the couch as you looked out the window with sad eyes, your fluffy tail flicking around as you were deep in thought. You hadn’t even noticed Soap and Ghost staring at you, they could smell the sadness radiating off of you. It was a slightly pungent smell compared to your usual scent that smelled of fresh flowers. It made Soap whine and quickly approach you. He curled up close to you, trying to soothe you, bring you out of your sad thoughts, with his warmth. It did help, it brought you out of your deep thoughts. But you still smelled of sadness. You would curl up against him, letting out a tiny sigh.

Then Ghost curled up next to you.

That was a first. He had always avoided you, per your request. But you didn’t mind this sudden act of affection. It was nice, you got a better chance to identify the keynotes of his scent. With Soap being around you so much, you had no choice but the memorize what he smelled like. Musk, timber wood, vanilla, and tiny hints of coconut. Part of that was because of the shampoo that Price would wash him in during bath nights. You had always kind of known what Price smelled like, what with him visiting your old owner every so often. Dirt, but not in a dirty way, an earthy way, smokey, toffee, and sandalwood. Cozy. You eventually came around and stopped being so mad at him for not telling you about his dog hybrids. Especially since you started to like them now. Kind of. Ghost, he always kind of smelled smokey. But not like Price. Price smelled smokey in a round way. Ghost smelled smokey in a sharper way. Kind of a difference between cigars and pungent cigarettes. But now that he was sitting so close to you, to wipe that sad look off your face, you could get a more clear reading of his scent. Smokey, yet bitter, musk, cedar wood, and lavender. That also must have been because of the shampoo. But they must have two separate shampoos that they picked individually. You had your own that Price had brought from your old home. It smelled of cherry blossoms.

Fast forward a few minutes, now Soap is teaching Ghost how you like your hair brushed with your favorite brush. And you’re crying and venting about how much you miss your owner and your old home.

This caused Soap to have a lightbulb moment.

A few days later, you’re napping in your cat bed when you suddenly start to wake up to a familiar scent. Rose petals, peonies, orchids, and lotuses. Flowers. You wondered if you had suddenly returned back to her old home. You open your eyes. Nope, you’re still at Price’s. But the scent is coming from a little candle, in an ivory candle holder (a favorite of your old owner), sitting on the dining room table. Price noticed you as he finished serving breakfast for you and the boys. He explained that he “found it at the shop and thought you would like it.” Actually, Soap had begged him to find a way to cheer you up because it hurt him so badly to see you cry like that! Ghost was standing by Soap, not moving a single bit. But Price could see in his eyes that he was silently agreeing. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared for the little cat hybrid. So Price had gone out and looked for his mother’s favorite candle. He knew the one. Now, back to the present, you’re looking at the candle with wide eyes. You’re looking at Price, then the boys, then the candle, then Price again. You feel your eyes start to sting. Tears abruptly well up in your eyes. All of the men are now worried. Did they mess up? Did Price pick the wrong candle? But he was sure of it! Soap quickly got up and hugged you tightly, asking why you were crying. Ghost even got up and walked over to you, just as worried but he wouldn’t show it. You eventually explain to them through tears and hiccups, that you love all they’ve done to make this new place feel like your old home. It makes you so happy that they want to see you happy and comfortable. They’re all relieved, Price gently wiping away your tears with a handkerchief his mother gifted to him when he first went into the military, petting your fluffy ears and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

These men all love you, they would do anything to not see you in pain. And you love them just as much, knowing that they would do anything to protect you. :3

───♡───────────── End

Again, if you have any constructive criticism, please comment below!

Thank you for reading :)

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!reader #this is my first post so please be nice to me #I'm so nervous to see how people react to this #please enjoy #task force 141 #tf 141 #john price #price x reader

[dirtysvthoughts]

𝙗𝙖𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! [1𝗄 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇]

synopsis: you and your boyfriend have been working nonstop. performances on his end and endless meetings on yours. when you both finally get a break, he proposes you two get away for a few days. little do the both of you know that this “baecation” will provide physical, emotional, and sexual healing.

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! chan, non-idol! chan (professional dancer! chan), vacation/baecation getaway, lots of teasing, lots of dirty talk, lingerie on reader, hotel room sex, balcony sex, pool sex, basically chan and reader are just horny lovebirds

notes: WOW BESTIES 1 FREAKING THOUSAND OF YOU HERE AT DIRTYSVTHOUGHTS!! 🥹 never did i ever think this account would grow this much, but you all made it possible! thanks for reading, liking, reblogging, sending in asks, and everything in between! i hope you enjoy this *slight* self-indulgent work! oh to be fucked by boyfriend chan in a dimly-lit hotel room with rose petals..

———

this work will be released in three parts (w/ an epilogue) !

pt. 1 - the destination

pt. 2 - the arrival

pt. 3 - the heated night & the morning after

———

if you want to be added to this work’s taglist, please fill out this google form here!

———

teaser (547 words) - thank you to @wooahaeproductions for beta reading!:

you can’t help but stare in (happy) shock as your eyes take in the sight before you, after chan removes his hands from your eyes. there were rose petals scattered across the floor and your bed and champagne chilled in an ice bucket. the dim lights created a sexy ambiance with the last bits of sunlight dimming over the horizon - the large, wide glass windows casting the most beautiful view that you would never forget.

chan stands behind you, rubbing your hips as he hold you by your waist, his smile forming against the shell of your ear as he kisses it, and laughing as he gently sways you side to side. your body is engulfed in his, the warm, familiar sensation of his embrace pleasantly taking over your body.

“chan, what’s all this?” you asked amazed, especially at how much he put into this setup.

“this,” he whispers kissing your temple, “is for you. you’ve been working so hard baby, and now it’s time for you to be rewarded.” you look into his eyes as he holds your jaw, fingers delicately adorning your face. there was something in the air uniting your both - was it love? sincerity? adoration? whatever it was, nothing else mattered in the world right now except you two.

“i love you so much, baby,” he kisses your nose softly. “i know this isn’t a lot, but-”

you silence him with a deep kiss and you turn your body forward so your hands could hold the nape of his neck. your tongues dance together in passion as chan pulls you even closer, bodies and the room temperature heating up with your intensity.

you pause and separate momentarily, ragged breaths filling the space. “chan.. this is more than enough,” you sigh lovingly. “we could’ve stayed at home and i would’ve been more than happy - just being with you is all i need.” you can feel your eyes starting well with tears but you try your best to hold them back.

“i love you so much, chan.”

this time, he starts another passionate kiss. he reaffirms his hands on your waist as he places open mouth kisses on your lips. he walks both you towards the bed and unties the robe you had on, revealing the sheer black rose-decorated lingerie set and garter on your body.

chan whistles as he takes in the sight of you, stunning as ever. “shit,” he whispers, “all dressed up for me like the pretty girl you are..”

you smile as you bring his hand for your waist to your chest, letting chan feel you up as your bite your lip and whimper, his soft hands causing your nipples to perk up. you’re close enough now that the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed. he gently lays you down and climbs on top of you as he kisses your neck. his long fingers toy with your panty line, the motions sending shivers down your spine.

“mmmm, my channie,” you moan out blissfully as his fingers begin to enter your dripping core. “more, please give me more,” you whine out as he continues to press his lips against your body, wetness continuing to gush from inside you as his lips move down your body.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen imagine #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #dino fic #dino smut #dino seventeen smut #dino imagines #dino imagine #dino fanfic #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #lee chan imagines #lee chan smut #lee chan imagine #lee chan fanfic

[togrowoldinv]

Just Right

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You and Natasha have your first date. In an unexpected turn, she ends up bonding with your young daughter

Note: This is soft soft soft Nat. I’ve had this idea for a while. Enjoy it!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When you first met Natasha, you had no idea that she would ever fall for you. It didn’t make sense. She is a world class assassin turned superhero and you’re a business woman.

But you immediately felt drawn to each other from the moment you locked eyes. There was an issue with Nat’s paycheck, and you were the woman to see about it.

The redhead waltzed into your office and left with her problem resolved and a new crush. Natasha then kept making excuses to see you.

Most of the time there was no issue at all, but she’d still come to your office. She wanted to see you. And you weren’t going to complain.

Finally, Natasha asked you out. It was the easiest yes of your life. But now standing at your closet, having no idea what to wear, you wonder if it was the right decision.

Natasha will be here in 15 minutes and you’re still in your bathrobe. Your saving grace comes in the form of your young daughter. The one you haven’t told Natasha about.

“You should wear this, Mom,” the little girl says. She points to a black dress that does frame your body well.

“You think so, sweetie?” You ask.

“Yes. You look so pretty in it!” She remarks.

You kiss her cheeks as a way to say thank you and take the dress out of your closet. Slipping it on, you glance in the mirror. It feels good.

The next fifteen minutes fly by and there’s a knock at your door. You walk through the foyer to open the door.

When you do, Natasha is standing on the other side. She wears a black tshirt and jeans with her signature leather jacket. A comfortable but attractive look on her.

“Hey y/n,” Natasha says. Her eyes rake over your body. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a heat in your cheeks and neck. “So are you. I just need a moment if you want to come in.”

Natasha nods and enters your home. She loves the way it feels so cozy even just two steps inside. She’s waiting by the door when your daughter approaches her.

“Oh, hi there,” Natasha says, her brow raising in question. “What’s your name?”

“Hi, I’m Taylor,” the girls answers. “Are you here to see my mommy?”

“Yes I am. I’m Natasha.”

Nat holds out her hand for the girl to shake and she does so surprisingly well for a seven year old.

“I like your flowers,” Taylor says, pointing to the roses in Natasha’s hand.

She was going to give them to you when she walked in, but you disappeared too quickly.

“Here,” Nat says while handing Taylor the bouquet. “For you.”

“All of them?” Taylor gasps.

“Mhm,” Nat assures her.

“Wow! Thank you!” Taylor cheers. She takes off running towards your room where you meet her at the doorway. “Mommy look! Tasha gave me these!”

“Tasha did, hm?” You ask, glancing to Nat. She only shrugs and smiles at the nickname from the girl. “Did you say thank you?”

“I did,” Taylor says.

“Good job, baby,” you tell her. She preens at the compliment. “Be good tonight, okay?”

“Yes ma’am I will,” she replies.

The sitter arrives at the house right on time and Taylor pulls her inside quickly to show her the new toys she just got. Natasha leads you out to her car.

“So, you have a daughter,” she says.

“I do. Is that a deal breaker?” You ask.

“Absolutely not. She’s cute,” Natasha says. “Plus, I kind of gathered from the photos of the little girl in your office.”

“You knew?”

“I know most things,” Natasha says, grinning from the driver’s seat.

You shake your head and get lost in the feeling of being on a date again. She parks the car outside of the restaurant.

“I hope you came hungry,” she says. “This is one of my favorite places.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” you say. “But I’m excited to try it.”

You walk into the restaurant with Natasha. Her hand hovers over your back as she leads you inside and to a table. There’s a card that says reserved. You look to Natasha.

“I told them I was bringing a date,” she chuckles. “I guess they took it seriously.”

You smile and slide into one side of the booth while Nat sits in the other. She takes off her jacket to reveal her muscular arms. The black t-shirt hugs her biceps perfectly. You watch as she intently reads the menu and you try to think of something to say. But the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“What do you recommend, Natasha?” You ask her.

Her eyes look up from the menu to meet yours. She tells you about all the different foods she likes here. You find it all a bit funny that a superhero knows so much about a local restaurant’s burgers, but it makes you fall harder for Natasha.

The conversation flows easily from there. You tell her about your life and she tells you about hers. You’re sure she leaves out some of the less than happy details.

It’s about an hour into the date when your phone rings. It’s the sitter.

“I’m sorry. I need to answer this,” you excuse yourself as you walk outside while answering the phone.

While you’re gone, the waiter asks Natasha if it’s going well. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up.

You come back inside with a frown on your face. Nat stands up in reaction.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“The sitter has to leave, so I have to leave. I’m so sorry, Natasha.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” she says. She places a comforting hand on your arm before turning to the waiter. “Put this on my tab?”

“Can do! Have a good one!” They say.

“Thank you. Let’s go,” Nat says. She grabs her jacket and leads you back to her car.

When she gets in the driver’s seat, she holds the jacket in her lap kind of awkwardly as she drives.

“Do you want me to hold it?” You ask her.

“Oh, that’s okay. I was going to put in the back but then I just didn’t for the sake of time,” she says, with a cute look on her face.

“I’ll hold it,” you say this time. Not a question. She lets you take it from her lap while she continues to drive.

You hold it against your lap. And it’s oddly warm. A lot like just being around Natasha feels like.

She pulls into your driveway and comes to open your door for you. You notice she doesn’t ever miss a chance to do that. You don’t have time to linger at your door, so you turn the key and relieve the baby sitter.

She says her apologies before she leaves and tells you that Taylor is asleep in her bed. That won’t last, you think.

During all of this, Natasha stands just inside the door.

“Come further in, Natasha,” you say, gesturing towards the living room.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I- um- I was having a good time, so maybe we could keep this date going?” You ask, taking a chance.

“I’d love that,” Natasha replies. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch where she’s noted you set her jacket down while you go to the kitchen. You emerge a few minutes later.

“Well, it seems I have no wine, but I do have juice boxes,” you say. You hold them up and grin.

“I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking from a juice box,” Natasha says.

“Really? Oh Natasha, this is about to change your life,” you say dramatically.

You sit next to her and show her how to put the straw in the box. She does successfully and tastes the sweet, way too sugary drink for the first time.

“So, what do you think?” You ask.

“I like it,” she says. “It’s weirdly fun to drink out of the straw.”

You’re about to reply when you hear the sound of little feet.

“Taylor, baby?” You call into the hallway.

“Mommy?” She asks confusedly in her sleepy haze.

You open your arms and she walks to your embrace easily, planting herself on your lap. She buries her face in your chest.

“Did we wake you up?” You ask her. She shakes her head against you.

Natasha graciously takes the juice box from you so that you can hold Taylor with both hands.

“Okay. Let’s go back to bed,” you say, standing up with her in your arms.

“Wait,” Taylor mumbles. She reaches an arm out towards the couch. “With Tasha.”

“Baby, it’s Ms. Natasha or Ms. Tasha at the least,” you correct her manners. You let it slide earlier, but you want Natasha to stick around.

“Tasha is just fine,” Natasha joins in the conversation.

“Okay,” you agree. “Come on ladies.”

Natasha follows as you take Taylor back to her bedroom. The room is covered in fun, pink decorations. It makes Nat smile to see a little girl able to be so safe and happy.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” you say, kissing Taylor on the head.

“Goodnight mommy,” she says. “Tasha, can I talk to you?”

“Oh,” you remark. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Nat says. “If it’s okay with you?”

You nod and step back to the doorway. It’s far enough to give her space with the girl, but close enough to hear what they say.

“Are you going to come here a lot?” Taylor asks.

“Oh, I’m not sure. I would like to I think,” Natasha replies. She sits on the bed next to Taylor. “What do you think about that?”

“Will you bring me more flowers?” A hopeful smile rests on her face.

“Yes, I will. What’s your favorite flower?”

“I don’t know,” she says.

“That’s okay,” Nat assures her. “Is pink your favorite color?”

“Yes ma’am,” Taylor replies. “How did you know?”

“It was a wild guess,” Natasha jokes. It goes over the little girl’s head but you appreciate her awareness of her surroundings. “I just might bring you pink flowers next time I see you, okay?”

“Pink flowers! Yay!” Taylor cheers. Her eyes droop closed as she fights sleep.

“Goodnight, malyshka. It was nice to meet you,” Natasha says.

“Night Tasha,” she mumbles.

Nat stands up from the bed and you take her hand as you walk back to the living room.

“Was that okay? I don’t want to overstep but I definitely want to see you again and-“

You cut her off by hugging her tight. Your arms are around her neck and she places hers around your waist.

“Thank you,” you say. She holds you for as long as you need. And it’s definitely a long time. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time.”

“Even with the interruption?”

“Especially with the interruption. Who else is going to ask me to bring them flowers all the time?” Natasha jokes. “She’s great.”

“She’s the best,” you say, a laugh falling from your lips.

“I should probably go,” Natasha wonders aloud.

“Yeah,” you agree. “But before you do maybe you can finish your juice box?”

You’re reaching for ways to spend more time with her, but she doesn’t complain. She sits next to you on the couch again and drinks some more of her juice.

“You know I bet the guys would want to see proof of my first juice box drink,” Natasha says. “Would you want to take a picture?”

“Absolutely,” you agree.

You get your phone out and point it at her, but she takes it from your hands.

“I meant of us,” Natasha says. You were hoping that was the case.

You hold up the juice box and smile while Natasha does the same. You immediately text it to her. Admittedly, it’s a cute photo. You see her save it as your contact photo in her phone.

“It’s late,” you note.

“It is,” Natasha says. She stands from the couch as you stand with her. There’s a silence as she steps closer to you. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes please,” you say.

Natasha’s smile reaches up to her eyes as she takes your face in her hands and kisses your lips. It’s a soft, slow kiss. And it’s absolutely perfect.

“I’ll call you?” She asks.

“And text me too,” you reply.

She nods and you walk her to the door. She kisses your lips once more before she steps out onto the porch.

“Hey, you forgot your jacket,” you call after her.

“Keep it,” Nat says. “I’ll get it next time.”

You grin and watch as she gets in her car and drives off.

From that day on, Natasha never forgets to bring Taylor pink flowers. Even when she runs out of types she can get, she has Tony make her new variants.

And everything with Natasha is just right.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere red room idea

The Red rooms. It’s not something He really thought he’d find himself using but here he is, walking up the corridor with a key card in his pocket. It’s definitely a secret society type of deal, code words, secret hand gestures, one use keys, all the security one could imagine. The first time he even heard of such a place like this, he assumed it was dark internet fetish mumbo jumbo. 

But after he found you, well, the right people found him and led him to the right place. Not a room of pain, but one of pleasure, to show his darling all of his intense love and emotion and then some. 

He hasn’t even booked a room yet, he’s here as a sort of consultation visit. To see if he really has the balls to do this and show that yes, he adores you, and that his love outweighs anyone else’s. 

Sliding the card into the door brought him into an empty room besides a desk, a few chairs, and two large filing cabinets. He takes a look around, quickly surveying the area, before stepping inside fully and sitting in the chair facing the large office chair in front of him. Before he can let his shoulders relax, a man follows in behind him, followed by a woman as well, both dressed professionally and seeming very…happy. 

“Ah! It’s good to see you, Mr-” 

“Lee, you can just call me Lee. And you are?” He asks, gesturing to the woman standing beside the man in the suit as he begins to open a manilla envelope, spreading the papers out on the table. 

“Victoria. We can leave it at that. I can tell that you know secrecy and customer privacy are our top priority with this business” She says with a knowing smile, sliding the papers over to face them towards the doctor.

“Now, Lee, What we have here is a very basic outline of what we can do for you and that love bug you’ve found yourself. We celebrate rather than punish our loved ones here, and want them to understand that to their core! We find that the red room experience helps!” The man exclaims with excitement, but has yet to really introduce himself. 

Lee was told to expect that however. The leader behind this all was kind enough to reach out but he wasn’t to expect anything too personal. “All business” was his very aura, and Lee could respect that. He nods along as Victoria took the reigns, explaining some of their core beliefs before getting to what Lee really wanted to know. 

“We can make the room however you please, lease it for up to four days at a time with personnel who checks in every four hours with their own special keys, for the darlings sake. As much as we wish to fully trust our customers, we will not take the risk of them dying or being seriously injured in any way. As stated, this is a way to show love and we give you the tools to do so! “ Victoria then spreads apart the papers, pointing here and there as she explains a bit more, intriguing Lee with every bit. “We have romantic layouts like at a hotel, we have BDSM specialist rooms, we have very highly rated toys and devices that we inspect and clean before each room is ready, and we have a live stream option if you’re the type who thinks everyone should see the pleasure you’re darling is receiving! I personally recommend the tribbing machines with the black rose theme if you prefer the dom and sub type of vibe, but we can personalize however you like!” 

Huh. Wow. They’re very thorough aren’t they? 

The business man nods, sitting back in his seat as he adjusts his tie. “I started many companies in my life, all based on bringing smiles and joy, and it’s my personal belief that there needs to be a company looking out for your lover! Love, adventurous or more mellow, is a beautiful thing that our darlings need to be showered in as much as possible. If you’d like, this can also be set up in a way to just calmly express your love to your darling, but I will clarify that it isn’t guaranteed to go well…I advise getting our crews to pick them up and deliver them for you, with every person being given a  background check of course! Safety and security is what comes first for your darling” 

Lee was a bit flabbergasted to say the least. They talk so professionally, have such a strange ethic to them, and they act as if he’s about to buy a company or large house rather than finally get ahold of the love of his life. It’s…Odd but charming. He can’t say he’s turned away from this, in fact he has a few ideas for his own red room. 

“Are they CPR trained and do they have basic first aid knowledge?” Lee asks as he looks over some more of the photos, liking the array of toys they had up for use to add to the room, each one costing extra of course but for what he had planned…it wouldn’t be too bad. 

Victoria smirks, laughing lightly in amusement “I can see we’ve caught even more of your attention. We can make sure these personnel are trained for the pick up, but our permanent staff are already trained in first aid help and some, even small surgical emergencies. You know, always needing to be prepared and all”. 

They talk  a few more things out, Lee deciding that if these people were serious, then he could trust them. If they crossed him in any way, he’d easily rid at least a handful of them. He didn’t get that gut feeling he usually does when people are lying to him however. This felt thorough and legit and well…Professional. 

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you Mr Lee. We’ll be getting in touch with you shortly! You wont regret setting this up-” the business man says with a firm handshake, smiling in an almost uncanny way. “And remember, when you’re in a bind, one of our smiles will ease your mind"

-Mommabean (This was so silly but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!)

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #mommabean #yandere CEO #yandere red room #yandere male #Victoria my oc #CEO my oc #Dr lee my oc #Doctor lee my oc #lovely smiles corps

[jinnie-ret]

fallen angel

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end

content warnings: injury, hyunjin hiatus (but he still makes an appearance)

word count: 3k

If you enjoy feel free to send in requests as my asks are open! And let me know if you would like to join the taglist for when I upload more imagines :)

the stray kids members have two maknaes to comfort at the end of their 'I'll Be Your Man' cover. One upset because he thought he wasn't good enough, and the other an injured, fallen angel, left hurt because MNET hadn't done enough safety checks on their equipment.

pt 2

MAIN MASTERLIST

Practising the vocals for 'I'll Be Your Man' was difficult enough, trying to learn the choreography alongside it was hard too. But performing said choreography whilst being lifted in a harness too was even more difficult.

Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. No, it wasn't to do with the heights, she could cope with that, but it was more the precision of her dance, and the fact that she would be hitting a high note in the air at the same time, having her own solo moment to shine. Maybe it would be different if they had multiple takes to make sure they got the right one. But with Kingdom, they didn't. She only had so many practices to ensure it looked perfect in front of her sunbaenims and friends. Yeosang and Wooyoung from ATEEZ had kept reminding her they were excited to see her performance. In the normal way, this would be encouraging, this time round, it only felt more daunting.

So when it came to the day of the performance, Y/N was unable to hide her nerves shining through.

"Y/Nnie, you good?" Han appeared in front of her, big brown eyes shining in concern as he watched the younger member zoned out in her own world.

"Huh? Oh yeah..." Y/N said dismissively, not really entirely sure how she felt right now, but her emotions showed more on the outside than on the inside right now.

"You've practiced this a billion times, you've got this," Han encouraged her, his hand resting on her shoulder whilst stylists were around the two making last minute adjustments to their outfits before they went on stage.

"Okay okay, I can do this," Y/N nodded, trying to hype herself up for the performance, breathing away her worries.

"Hannie! Y/Nnie!" Changbin loudly called them over to their group huddle where the rest of the members were gathered.

Y/N gave Han a thankful smile before they joined the others in the circle, Y/N slotting herself between Felix and Seungmin.

"Right, let's do our best, stay safe, and deliver what Stray Kids do best! Let's go! Hwaiting!" Chan led the small talk before they all cheered each other on and got into position on stage.

Y/N didn't have a part until the first group choreography part of the performance, where Han and Lee Know sang the chorus and led them through the gates. Felix, Han and Changbin then had their rap parts in a more hellish scene, where a dance break ensued, Y/N running off halfway through it like she was meant to, to get into position.

She was quickly harnessed by their supporting dancers and got ready for her solo part. As soon as she heard Lee Know sing out 'baby I just pray', she was slowly lifted into the air. Instrumental music played as she rose upward, stretching out her arms and legs and creating beautiful moments with them. And when her arms swooped across her long black hair, the other groups who were watching backstage were shocked to see it was a wig that was knocked off, revealing long white hair instead. As she rose higher, some large wings appeared on the screen behind her.

"Oh my god her hair!"

"Wow she's an angel!"

"That's my best friend! Let's go Y/Nnie!"

"So pretty..."

Now risen at the highest point in the air, Y/N began singing too, beautiful vocal runs flowing along with the violin in the background. Her moves ranged from static to more elegant moves too, and she feigned an expression as part of the performance like her soul had been taken away from her, sacrificed for the young boy to align with the storyline of the performance. She was then lowered as her movements became more frantic and dramatic, showing the desperate need to have saved a soul. At the same time, her wings dissolved behind her, the screen turning darker behind her.

"She's a fallen angel! Wow!"

"Oh wow..."

She continued to be lowered, and Y/N was beginning to feel a bit nervous now because she swore she heard a slight ripping sound from the cord she was attached to, yet she continued performing. It was until she was still 6ft in the air, that the cord actually did snap, and Y/N was forced to act quickly despite her shock to try and land. Despite the impact going straight through her left ankle, Y/N continued dancing until the camera panned away again, panting before realising she'd have to dance some more at the end of their performance too. She tried her best to keep her tears at bay, moving across the stage the best she could as she limped over to the rest of the boys. None of them noticed however, as they were in performance mode and hadn't seen her part of the stage from getting ready themselves for the next. And even the groups backstage had seemed to think the drop from the harness was planned, like it was part of her fallen angel character.

Her left foot was in agony, yet she kept going, her body twisting and turning whilst Han and Seungmin sung their hearts out, and Changbin rapped incredibly fast. She was relieved once it came to the end, and they were able to collapse to the ground, because ever since she fell that was all she wanted to do.

Once the lights came up, she cried out, hands over her face. It was then that she noticed she was finding it hard to breathe too, and she didn't know if it was another injury or if she was in so much pain from her ankle.

"Y/N what's happened?" Lee Know crouched down next to Y/N, thinking she was upset and tried to help her up but then she cried out in pain again.

"What's happened? Are you hurt?" Felix panicked, seeing the tears coming from the younger member.

Staff members from MNET rushed over, catching the attention of the other members.

"What's going on?" Changbin asked confused and worried.

A higher up crew member approached the group and began to explain what happened.

"There was a fault with the harness, the cord snapped as she was being lowered and so she suffered a slight fall. Good news is she landed it well so it still looked good on camera," they hurriedly tried to reassure the rest of the group, but their words did anything but that.

"She fell?!" Seungmin looked across at Y/N who was being comforted by a now angry looking Lee Know and a more worried Felix. Jeongin, who wasn't feeling too good about his own performance, looked worried for his fellow maknae.

"The harness broke?!? Why didn't you check it was safe?!" Chan exploded in anger at the MNET staff, because now one of his members was injured.

Whilst he continued to rant angrily at the staff, Han trying to calm him down, the rest of the boys gathered around Y/N.

"Ah it hurts," she cried through stuttered breaths, top half leant against Changbin as he had lifted her slightly into his arms. He rubbed soothing circles into her hands which gripped onto his so tightly.

"Where, Y/N? Can you tell us where it hurts, love?" Felix rushed out his words concerned for her, seeing the tears roll down her face.

"Landed on my ankle," Y/N whimpered, her breaths coming out short.

"Y/N you need to calm down, okay?" Seungmin patted her arm, thinking that she was working herself up even more, and not wanting her to feel even worse.

"Get a doctor here then!" Chan was heard shouting, which only made Y/N more upset.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay, yeah?" Changbin reassured her gently, squeezing her hands tighter.

"W-what if I can't join the next performance?" Y/N shakily asked, eyes flitting back and forth between the boys who were her real comfort right now.

"We'll worry about that later. We're more concerned about you right now, Y/Nnie. Just breathe sweetheart, can you do that, hmm?" Lee Know spoke calmly, slowly taking off her shoe to reveal a swollen and bruised ankle.

"I'm trying to b-but it hurts to," Y/N says through stuttered breaths, tears still falling down her face.

"There's not a doctor here yet?" Jeongin questioned, wondering why someone on set hadn't arrived quicker.

"They should be coming over now," Chan informed them, before grabbing one of Y/N's hands, "we're going to get you some help, yeah? Just take some nice deep breaths, Y/Nnie."

Chan gave her the same advice as the others yet it wasn't working. Y/N knew it wasn't her panicking, but something worse.

"We keep trying to calm her down but she says it hurts when she breathes," Felix looks up Chan worriedly, and sees Han to the left of him with his clasped together nervously.

Some medical staff finally came over and lifted her onto a small bed to move her backstage and look at her properly. Y/N couldn't help but let out more whimpers of pain and the members tried to reassure her as they followed along.

"Only one person in here please," the standby doctor informed the boys, and that was when they decided Seungmin should go in with her. He was the most grounded at the moment, the other members either being too angry, worried or upset to remain calm like Y/N needed.

Seungmin gently held Y/N's hand as the doctors checked over her. With a slight press into her ribs, Y/N let out a loud yell of pain, Seungmin immediately whispering reassuring words to her and gently petting her hair.

"It's okay, it's okay, they're just making sure you're okay, Y/Nnie," he stumbled over his words, now wishing someone else was in his position instead because he feared he wasn't doing enough to comfort the younger girl and he hated seeing her like this.

"We fear you may have a bruised rib, Miss Y/N, you're going to have to seek medical help from a hospital," the doctor shook his head, regretfully informing them.

"No, no, I can't, what about the next performance, can't let the team down," Y/N cried, which was making her ribs hurt even more from the slight jolting of her body.

"Y/Nnie, it's okay, we'll figure out, but you need to calm down, jagi, because you'll hurt yourself more," Seungmin made sure she was looking at him as he said this, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, stroking her face gently.

"B-but-"

"Ssshh, please don't cry Y/Nnie, we'll get you to a hospital and then we worry about the future, okay, come on now, that's it, well done," Seungmin helped her to relax, an arm gently wrapped around her shoulders as he stroked her hair to calm her down.

Whilst Y/N's examination was happening, Chan had noticed Jeongin's upset.

"Hey Innie, it's okay, Y/N will be okay," he patted his younger member's back, thinking that's why he was crying to himself.

"It's not that, I mean, I'm worried about Y/N, but I messed up in the performance and then seeing her hurt too was just," Jeongin couldn't finish his words, crying into the shoulder of his leader.

"Ah, Innie, you did good, which part?" Chan patted his back gently.

"I just did a terrible job as a whole," Jeongin sniffled, his voice thick from trying to hold back his cries.

"Hey, it's okay man," Chan hugged him again.

Felix came and hugged Jeongin too.

"Ah what are we going to do with our maknaes?" Han sighed fondly, patting Jeongin on the head, and it was then they saw Y/N getting wheeled out of the medical room and heading down the corridor past their room.

"Hey, hey! What's going on?" Chan called after some staff of their own who were with Y/N.

"They're taking her to hospital, think she's got a bruised rib," the JYP staff shook their head angrily.

"A bruised rib?!" Changbin said with wide eyes, trying to peer round at Y/N who was sat up straight, trying to remain calm with Seungmin who was stood beside her, looking stressed himself.

"Lee Know and I will go with her, Seungmin, you go home with the others, yeah? We'll update you," Chan instructs everyone.

Seungmin nodded and was immediately embraced into a hug by Felix, feeling guilty for relaxing but he couldn't deal with seeing his member hurt.

And off they went. Changbin stayed behind with the 00 liners and Jeongin, making sure they weren't too shaken up by what happened. Chan and Lee Know stuck to Y/N like glue, one of them always holding her hand or stroking her hair, even when she had been given some drugs for the pain and was unconscious.

"I can't believe this happened..." Chan sighed, brushing back stray hairs from Y/N's face. They were sat beside her hospital bed.

"Typical MNET," Lee Know sighed angrily, looking at the boot now on Y/N's foot.

Y/N then started waking up.

"Hey, sweetheart, how you feeling?" Chan was quick to check in on her.

"Feel, funny," Y/N giggled trying to sit up but then wincing in pain.

"Oh gosh, she's gone loopy," Lee Know playfully sighed, but he couldn't hide his worry for her as he gently leaned her back.

"Wow I have such handsome members," Y/N suddenly said, the drugs she was given making her delirious and spouting whatever was on her mind.

"What? Y/N?" Chan laughed at the girl who staring at the two eldest members.

"Did so well today. Good performance. All 9 of us," Y/N carried on, seeming like she had forgotten about her injuries for now considering she thought all 9 of them was there, when really it was 8 because of the stupid hiatus Hyunjin had to be on.

"It was only 8 of us, Y/Nnie, remember?" Lee Know warily reminded her, and it was then she teared up.

"Call Hyunjin, I miss him. Want to talk to him," Y/N pouted sadly, and they couldn't deny their maknae.

"He might be busy though, Y/N," Chan said gently, calling his fellow member anyways.

Fortunately he answered.

"Hi Channie hyung!" Hyunjin said brightly upon seeing Chan's face, which soon changed to Y/N holding the phone closely to her face, making Hyunjin cackle.

"Woah, Y/N, all of a sudden?" he laughed over the phone.

"Hyunjin!" Y/N yelled into the phone, causing Chan and Lee Know to shush her due to being in a hospital.

"Y/Nnie!" Hyunjin joyfully said back.

"I miss you!" she said into the phone, holding the phone higher up where Hyunjin could see she was in a hospital gown and had an IV in.

"Miss you too- huh? Are you in hospital?" Hyunjin sounded very concerned, and Lee Know and Chan could hear it in his voice that he longed to be with them right now to comfort her and reassure himself.

"Yeah. Because MNET are all dickheads who can s-" Y/N spoke her mind, until Chan covered her mouth so she'd stop speaking and Lee Know took the phone.

"Hyung is Y/N okay?" Hyunjin frowned.

"We were filming and you know she had that harness part? MNET didn't do enough safety checks and so the cord snapped," Lee Know shook his head angrily

"What? That's ridiculous! How could they just let that happen?" Hyunjin rambled from the other side of the phone, but Y/N in her more delirious state thought he was talking about her.

"You angry at me Jinnie?" she asked sadly, bottom lip wobbling.

"No no no, not at you, jagi, at MNET, because they're all dickheads, remember?" Hyunjin quickly calmed Y/N, trying to make her laugh by using her words, and he was successful in doing so.

"Hyunjin!" Chan scolded, yet their was a smile as he spoke and Hyunjin could hear Lee Know's laughter in the background.

"Please update me if she's ok, yeah?" Hyunjin bit his lip worriedly, wishing he could be with his memners right now.

"Of course of course, that goes without question. Talk to you soon, yeah?" Chan promised Hyunjin.

"Bye hyungs! Bye Y/Nnie!" Hyunjin waved them goodbye as the phone hung up.

"Y/N you can't shout like that," Chan facepalms and laughs, scolding her for her shouting earlier on in the call.

"You sounded like a parrot," Lee Know said bluntly, causing Y/N to smirk.

"You sounded like a parrot."

"Y/N-"

"Y/N."

A sigh.

And another, Y/N copying Lee Know once again.

"Hyung make her stop," Lee Know whined, Y/N copying once again before he covered her mouth.

Chan managed to capture this on video and sent it to the groupchat to let them know how Y/N was doing.

Chan:

[vid. attachment]

Y/N is up and doing better

Han:

haha Lee Know hyung is annoyed

Chan:

well he did call her a parrot

Changbin:

ah Y/N is so clever like that haha

Seungmin:

she learnt it from me

Felix:

hahaha

what did the doctors say?

Lee Know:

she's got a bruised rib, broken ankle, don't know how we're going to let her down gently about if she can join the next performance or not

Jeongin:

I hope she can :(

Chan:

she spoke to Hyunjin and that made her feel better

Hyunjin:

what can I say? I'm a natural healer

Felix:

we miss you jinnie

Hyunjin:

I miss you guys too

but it's not long now, that makes me feel better

Y/N:

you know what is long?

Han:

which one of you let Y/N have her phone?

Y/N:

my d-dkfkfkfmfkfdkdkrkrkttt

Lee Know:

Chan did, but I've got it now. this one has gone crazy...

tagged: @oo-li

#skz #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids #straykids imagines #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth member #stray kids ninth #ninth member #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hurt/comfort #stray kids angst #skz reader

[hyperactively-me]

Hear me out…King Ghost is wearing a white shirt and he somehow falls into a pond/lake in front of his wife. When he gets out of the water his white shirt is completely transparent and (y/n) can see everything. And while Simon is trying to get out of the lake he just sees his wife looking at him like 👀.

(In reality, a king’s shirt shouldn’t be flimsy and thin enough to be that transparent but I think it is a funny thought if Simon specifically got thin white shirts so his wife would check him out bc he’s a little slut for his wife but she doesn’t know that yet shhhh.)

omg bestie please this is the scene from bridgerton we all know and dearly love!!!!! yes!!

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden, glow across the lake. The winter season had finally passed, the snow gone and melted. Spring had sprung. King Ghost guided a small rowboat through the gentle water, the oars of the boat skimming over the water languidly.

As the boat glided effortlessly across the water, you sat back, enjoying the gentle breeze and the soothing lull of the water. You peek your head over the side of the boat for a moment, staring at your wavy reflection in the water.

“The spring here is beautiful, Simon,” you say, running a hand in the cool water.

“I thought you would like it,” he says, continuing to row the boat, each stroke of the oars propelling you both towards the dock. “Kastron is known for its wildflower fields, super blooms occur here in the springtime, especially during the rainy season.” 

“Oh wow! That sounds amazing, you’ll have to take me to see them sometime,” you smile, looking back up at him from the water. 

As the boat drifts, you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh spring air. It's a welcome break from the formalities and duties in the palace, and a chance for the two of you to be together.

Spending time with him was all you wanted a few months ago, and since then, he’s made a continuous and honest effort to spend time with you, and you with him. Honestly, you’ve grown to truly have an affection for him, a real liking for him, a stark difference from the time you first met him.

The sunlight dances on the surface of the lake, casting a shimmering reflection. You find yourself lost in the beauty of the moment, the gentle ripples of the water, and the soothing sounds of nature all around you.

Simon's strong arms work in time with the boat, his gaze never leaving you. He shifts slightly, thinking of something to say. "I had hoped this outing would be a pleasant surprise," he says, his tone soft and earnest.

You lean closer to him, reaching out to caress his cheek with your hand. “It is more than pleasant, Simon. It's perfect.”

His brown eyes, once reserved and guarded, now shine with warmth. He briefly stops rowing, allowing the boat to drift for a moment as he leans in to kiss the palm of your hand. 

"I'm glad to hear that," he whispers, his lips grazing your skin. "I wanted to show you a different side of Kastron, just you and me.”

You can't help but blush, feeling a flutter in your chest. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, and it was moments like these that made you realize just how much you enjoyed his company. You've come to appreciate his dedication to his people, his sense of duty, and his unwavering support for you.

The boat drifted to a halt by the lakeside, and Simon gracefully rose to disembark. But, without warning, his foot caught on the edge of the boat's wooden plank, and he stumbled, pitching forward into the cool water. 

You gasped, your heart leaped in your chest as you watched him vanish beneath the surface with a splash. Your first instinct was to reach out, to help him, but you remained frozen, unable to take your eyes off the scene unfolding before you.

Simon resurfaced, water dripping from his tousled, sandy blonde hair, and that's when you noticed it. His once perfectly pressed white shirt now clung to him like a second skin, rendered completely transparent by the water. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw every curve and contour of his physique, the strong lines of his chest, and the ripple of his muscles beneath the wet fabric.

Your husband, the king, stood before you, basically exposed, yet somehow looks more alluring than ever. You didn’t have to know he tripped on purpose. Hell, he’s way too coordinated for a fall as simple as that. He only did it to impress you, to get into your subconscious. But you don’t have to know.

“Simon!” you cry out, springing up from your seat. The boat rocks as you push yourself up from your seat, leaning over the boat. You jump over your seat, extending a hand to Simon. 

He takes your hand with a sheepish grin, water dripping from his soaked clothes. “Well, that was—" he says, chuckling.

You can't help but stare, you really can’t. You help pull him back on the boat, watching his arms flex as he pulls himself up. His proximity sends a shiver down your spine, but you do your best to focus. “Are you okay?”

Simon nods, water droplets splattering around him. “I'm perfectly fine, just a bit wet,” he replies, slipping his shirt off. You are now staring unabashedly at his now bare chest, his muscles and abs rippling as he starts to wring out his shirt as best he can. 

“O– okay” you gulp, nodding. 

“What is it?” he asks, nonchalant.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, just…you falling startled me a bit,” your eyes darted around, your face growing extremely warm.

“Hm. Well, I am sorry for startling you—”

“No, don’t be sorry at all!” you laugh slightly, brushing hair from your face.

“Alright, I’m not sorry, then,” he says, now fully grinning at you. “I saw you staring.”

Your mouth goes agape for a split second, then you flounder, spluttering about how you weren’t staring. 

“I wasn’t staring!” you say incredulously, exaggerating your reaction. 

“You definitely were, darling.” 

“No I wasn’t!”

He just laughs, shaking his head. He turns, hiding his face from you for a moment. God, he’s obsessed with you.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#tee hee #so quirky of him #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme