Brat || F!Yandere X F!Reader

The Hot Babysitter

The rest of dinner went down without a hitch. Ha-Joon let you feed her pancakes without complaint. This was most likely due to the fact she knew whining would lead to you leaving, but oh well.

Once all the plates were clean, you deposited them in the sink for someone else to wash. You dampened a paper towel and put the tiniest dollop of hand soap on it before bringing it over to your charge. With it, you wiped down her mouth and hands.

"You've been so well-behaved tonight. I was going to put you right to bed, but I think you deserve a treat," you said, and then, when she nodded enthusiastically, "If you promise not to tell your father, I can let you stay up a bit past your bedtime. What do you think?"

She nodded again... But disappointment was written plain across her face. She was probably hoping for some more adult fun as a reward, but she'd either take what you gave her or not get anything at all.

"Do you want your pacifier back, or can I trust you to keep your mouth shut?" You asked.

That was Ha-Joon's second, smaller reward. You thought she'd jump on the opportunity to avoid the soother, but instead she paused --her expression turning oddly pensive-- before doing grabby hands in the direction of the counter where you left her binky.

You dutifully popped it back into her mouth. Maybe she didn't trust herself not to accidentally speak up. Maybe she was getting into it. Who knows? You weren't about to ask her, just content with the quiet.

The two of you moved from the kitchen to the living room. You swaddled her in the softest, fuzziest blankies you could find in the blanket chest. Then you sat her down on the sectional sofa before turning your attention to the massive television hanging above the fireplace.

The remote was easy to find, sitting on the mantle. It took you a few minutes to learn the controls, but it was smooth sailing once you navigated your way to Disney Plus.

You considered asking her who her favorite Disney princess was but ultimately decided against it, just putting on Mulan. As soon as the Walt Disney title showed up on screen, you sat next to her and pulled her into your lap, wrapping your arms around her and tucking her head under your chin.

The couch was wide and deep, but it was still a bit of a tight squeeze with the two of you sharing the same cushion. Ha-Joon seemed to be appreciative regardless, relaxing for the first time that evening.

You let her enjoy herself for a little while, at least until "A Girl Worth Fighting For" --the best song in the entire movie-- finished playing. Then you pulled out your phone, opened your sugaring website, and traversed to the available escorts page.

"Lookie here, baby," you said, holding it up so she could see the screen clearly. You filtered the results by MILFs and mommy doms. "See Nadia? She's a self-described Russian sex goddess who used to provide sadistic and domineering escorting to wealthy Europeans. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

She let out a little whimper, squirming in your lap. You took that as a no.

So you scrolled down. "Ooor maybe... Jessie! She's a porn star who's looking for other opportunities in the industry now that her age is starting to show and she doesn't get as many film offers."

She somehow managed to free one of her arms, reached out from the confines of her blanket to claw at the hand holding your phone. So not Jessie then.

You didn't give up. "How about Brooke? She's a wife, mother, and business-woman who seeks out attention from young men and women online because her boring husband leaves her drier than a desert. I'm sure she'd have a field day with you!"

Ha-Joon writhed until she'd turned herself by a hundred-eighty degrees, so she was facing you instead of the digital screens. Her cheeks were already tear-stained, her mouth wobbling like a plate of jello, her eyes big and beseeching...

"Listen, Ha-Joon," you told her, cradling her close so she could bury her face in your cleavage. "I'm not your mother. Hell, I'm not even your mommy fwiend. If anything, I'm your hot babysitter. And I won't be for long. We need to find you a new, hotter babysitter."

She started to shake and sob in your arms.

Good God, you were about to give her something to cry about. "Stop blubbering, you big baby. Crying may work on your daddy, but your crocodile tears won't sway me."

That was a mistake. She let out an ear-splitting wail, forcing you to spend the better half of the next hour shushing and rocking her like she really was an infant.

By the time the movie ended, she had cried herself to sleep. You just watched the credits roll, wondering how in God's name you were going to get out of this.