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Pretty sure there’s a raccoon in my roof. Trying to scare the thing before getting a professional involved. By the end of the day, they’ll either be gone or we’ll have a new Atiny…
Men should stay out of women’s business (building campfires)
sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (14/17)
CHAPTER DIRECTORY
TAGLIST AT BOTTOM! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ADDING YOU TO THE TAGLIST. A/N: I lied. About two things. The smut is the next chapter. Also this thing is also going to be 17 chapters instead of 15. And thank you for sticking with this story during my dry spell. I appreciate your messages and comments so much; they've definitely held me accountable.
CHAPTER 14: As you untangle Charlie's web of lies, you realise there's more to him than he's letting on. (5.6k words)
ORDINARY DAY
“Wake up, (Y/N),” wake up.” Charlie’s singing mellowed out the sharp tones of your alarm. “Your alarm’s been going off for almost ten minutes.”
“Yeah, hmm… shut it off, please,” you responded softly, pulling the covers back over your head and wrapping yourself back up in your dream: Charlie was going to oblige you, silence your alarm, take off his shirt, and slip under the covers with you. He’d litter kisses under your nightgown and you’d sleep in until the afternoon.
Yes, you liked that very much.
Your hand shot out blindly in an attempt to find the snooze button but instead of hitting the cold metal of the device, you hit soft, warm skin.
“Merlin!” you screamed, eyes now wide open. You pulled the covers up closer to your neck, dreams shattered—well, somewhat. Charlie was hovering above you, palms on the side of your bed. Sadly, he was also fully-clothed. “What are you doing here?”
“You agreed to me waking you up no matter the cost. I wasn’t going to politely ask you outside the door. You know I’m not that nice.” The mischievous glint in his eyes deepened as he brushed some of your hair away from your face. His knuckles dragged across your cheek, sparking warm streaks in its wake. “Must be all that hair impeding your hearing. I heard four alarms while I was getting ready. I couldn’t take the cacophony anymore.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. “Right. I didn’t know trains ran this early.”
His hands stopped where the back of your ear met your neck. “Oh, but they do, (Y/N). Best get up or you’ll regret it.”
“But it’s so warm under the covers, Charlie,” you whined.
“I can fix that,” he offered. You perked up immediately. Charlie was going to set a record for the earliest you’d been turned on.
Charlie then began removing his jumper, nearly decimating his undershirt in the process. Heavens. Your heart banged on your sternum at the sight of his exposed torso. You were truly awake now. Your eyes grazed his chiseled biceps as they flexed over his head. You reflexively wet your lips, reminded of a dream where those same arms pressed up against a headboard. But then again, Charlie stripping down to nothing in real life was better than any dream you could’ve had.
“Here.” He offered you his jumper. “Put it on, it’s warm.”
The delicate, navy, cashmere fabric felt like heaven in your hands. Your hormones convinced you it would smell even better.
“You’re hesitant,” Charlie remarked as he looked you up and down. “Are you worried it’ll ruin your outfit?”
“What?” you exclaimed. “No, navy goes with everything, it’s wonderfully complementary.”
“It would look complementary on you.”
You frowned. “Are you certain you won’t be cold? I have my own jumper I could wear.”
Charlie shook his head. “I have others, too.”
You would oblige him, but not that easily. “Alright, since you’re being awfully insistent.”
“I am, aren’t I? And you’ve got fifteen minutes before we head out, okay?” He patted your covers and left the room.
When he left, you giddily pulled Charlie’s jumper over you. As you’d suspected, his scent was wonderful and you planned to wear it like your favourite perfume. You caught a glimpse of yourself in a mirror and your mouth dropped. Charlie could dwarf anyone just by his broad shoulders alone, and it didn’t take a genius to realise that the jumper didn’t belong to you, but damn, did it ever look nice on you.
Not more than thirty minutes later, you stumbled onto the train carriage. Charlie, conversely, rolled in like it was the start of a balmy beach vacation. Despite this being the third go-around now, settling in the train felt normal and routine. An ordinary day. The only thing that didn’t feel quite so normal was Charlie choosing to sit beside you rather than in front of you. He plopped down in the aisle seat, crossed one leg over the other, and shot you an easy grin. Why had he decided to do this? You couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it, but you felt constricted, afraid to lean too much into him.
Charlie solved your predicament by leaning into you when the train began rolling out of King’s Cross Station. He pressed his fingers on the window, accentuating the fading view of the station. By doing so, he had found a reason to sling his arm around you. “Adieu, London.”
Charlie leaned in further, almost grazing your ear. “We made it by a hair.”
You were the only two on the train. The engine was faint. He would’ve been perfectly audible from the neighbouring compartment. There was no reason for him to press his body to yours, but he did.
You could only shake your head. “We were ten minutes early.”.
Charlie chuckled, his gaze resting softly on you. “To be perfectly honest, you seemed so warm and peaceful, I almost felt bad about waking you.”
You choked back a laugh. “There wasn’t an inkling of regret on your face, Charlie. You were positively enjoying it.”
“I’m just a master at disguising my emotions, aren’t I?”
Even though you fantasied about this—Charlie cuddled up to you—it was harder to act on it in real life. Your arm quivered from an invisible pull towards Charlie’s thigh. If you reciprocated a touch too much, would Charlie draw away?
Then realisation hit you harder than a miscast Bombarda. This could be your last train trip with Charlie forever. Why did it matter what he thought of you? Unless something astronomical shifted with Charlie’s mindset about long-term relationships and going back to Romania, destiny wasn’t going to cave. And if he didn’t want you? Good. You wouldn’t have to see him again. An indefinite absence would give you enough time to grieve what could’ve been.
You went for it, tilting your head right and leaned into him. “No, you’re perfectly see-through. Clear as the ice on the lake.”
“Did you get to bed late yesterday?” Charlie redirected, his voice caressing your ear so softly. He drummed his thigh with his fingers. “You were harder to rouse than usual.”
“I don’t know anyone who wakes at three in the morning. It’s an impossible standard that you’re holding me to.” You could feel your eyelids grow heavier with every second you lingered on the topic of time. Besides, Charlie’s shoulder made for a wonderful pillow; it was literally lulling you to sleep. “When do you sleep?”
“In Romania? Eight, even earlier if my schedule allows for it.”
“Consciountously? Or does your job demand it?”
“It’s a mix of both, I reckon,” Charlie admitted. He nuzzled his chin into your head a touch more. “Yourself?”
“By the time I come back from work, I feel like I don’t have enough hours in the day left,” you lamented with a frown, thinking about all the days you’d stepped out of the Ministry’s Floo system into total darkness. You’d glance at your pocket watch to ensure you weren’t going crazy—yes, it was only five. Then there were long days where sunlight just didn’t exist. “In a way, I just don’t want the day to end when I haven’t had the chance to start it.”
Charlie chuckled, the tiny aftershocks rumbling in your body . “Funny.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
He paused, biting his bottom lip. “Because I think of it in the complete opposite way.” You looked up just as he looked down and your eyes met. You tried to blink away any visible inkling of desire. “I just can’t wait for the next one to start.”
You never thought about it that way. “I like that. I’ll have to incorporate your teachings more in my life, Professor Weasley.”
Charlie scoffed, a faint smile on his mouth. He squeezed your arm. “You shouldn’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Can’t tell you. You wouldn’t like it.”
Cryptic.
A natural silence swallowed the last of your conversation. Your head bobbed into the crevice between Charlie’s neck and broad shoulders. He was a rock that absorbed every little bump on the train tracks, a muffler that dampened every whistle and bell. Slowly, your senses dulled until all you could hear was his pulse. And in that rhythm, your eyes finally lost the battle to somnolence.
In that private state of mind, someplace Charlie couldn’t penetrate, you mulled over his words. Some were funny: if you both slept on opposite ends of the day, would you ever have time for the other?
That thought jolted you. You were letting precious time with Charlie slip through your fingers. As you forced your eyes open, an empty seat in front of you came into view. Where did he—? Right, he was beside you. Your free arm shot up to massage a kink in your neck from all the leaning you’d done into Charlie.
“Charlie?” you called faintly.
Tangled in his own hypocrisy, Charlie was also asleep.
Your hand that was the closest to him rested on his lap. Curiously, and taking advantage of his vulnerable state, you pressed your palm on the back of his hand. Cold. As if trying to assuage his temperature, you cupped his digits, hoping to transfer some warmth to his extremities. What intrigued you was that his cheeks were so warm in contrast, a current of red underneath the field of freckles on his face. You squeezed his hand tightly and fell back into slumber.
When you opened your eyes again, the flat, waking farmlands had morphed into striking highlands. You turned slowly to see if Charlie had woken—he had. He remained motionless, leaning back into his headrest. He must’ve not realised that you had woken too, because his blue eyes, in all their deep inquisition, rested on the ceiling, lips pulled tightly and slightly downwards. Was he thinking about something? Not wanting to startle him (though, it was Charlie, he could never be caught off-guard), you opted to squeeze his hand instead.
“You’re awake?” he asked.
“I could ask the same. You fell asleep.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then why were your eyes closed?”
“I think better with my eyes closed.”
“You are such a liar!” you accused with a smile that nearly split your face. Cheekily, you implored. “What were you dreaming about?”
“Everything.”
“Elaborate?”
“Maybe later.”
“You’re being uncharacteristically coy today, Charlie.”
Amused, he asked: “Am I, now?”
You leaned against the window wistfully. “It’s beautiful. I always forget how beautiful it is. I regret not paying attention at all when I had to take train.”
“Maybe you should visit more often,” Charlie suggested. He squeezed your hands twice, and you didn’t dare try to interpret the meaning behind the numbers. He was so close to you again, his body practically melding into your side. You were one wrong turn from a kiss, one that would satiate the gnawing emptiness in stomach for him. You wanted it badly.
Through the rush of emotions, you couldn’t help but think something was odd about Charlie’s behaviour today. It was all too tender, too honest, and too reserved. Where was the electric, sexually-charged Charlie? The one spoke in insanity-inducing innuendos? The one that made you unsure of whether to laugh or cry?
Sooner than not, the last glimpse of green was quickly replaced by a swarm of students. You finally clued in that the train you were in was about to take the entire student population back to London. So that’s why it had departed Kings Cross so early.
“Well, this is us,” Charlie announced. He grabbed your bag without a word and slung it over his other shoulder.
You nodded as you buttoned up your topcoat, but stopped when your zipper caught in excess material.
“Would you like your jumper back, Charlie?” you offered.
He shook his head as he slipped his muscly arms into his own coat sleeves. “Nope.”
You gestured to his hands. “But you were so cold. I felt terrible.”
Charlie twisted his mouth from one side to another. “No, I’m not. And besides, you look much nicer in my jumper.”
”Do I now?” You laughed and struck a pose. “I must admit it’s quite comfortable and warm.”
“You know how you could make it look better?” Charlie suggested.
You rolled up the sleeves on your left wrist. “Perhaps I should fashion it another way? Take it in the waist?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Charlie teased cryptically, smiling and walking towards the train doors. There he was again, the Charlie you were afraid had disappeared.
How were you supposed to make it look better?
What awaited you beyond the train doors was a hoard of young, bright-eyed students wrapped in thick jackets and scarves around their pink necks. The wooden platform was now a lumpy bed of snow littered with footsteps. A sprinkle of fresh snow peppered your skin the moment you stepped outside.
As if he sensed your hesitation, Charlie offered his arm as an anchor which you gladly took. First your hand and now your arm—he was needy today.
“Just so I don’t lose you,” Charlie whispered. “Would be bad.”
You nodded in agreement. “Would be.”
“Now let’s see if we can get through this crowd unscathed.”
“The odds of peace are not in our favour.”
And you were to be proven right in about half a second.
“Professor Weasley!” a young boy with round glasses remarked excitedly. “You’re back! I didn’t think you’d be back.”
“Change of plans—”
The boy wagged his finger. “You lied to us!”
Before you could eavesdrop any further, you were teased from the crowd too.
“What are you doing here?” Lucy exclaimed, one of her hands gripping the tail of your coat and the other gripping who you now knew as Niamh.
You rehashed what Charlie said. “We had a change of plans.”
“Good,” Lucy said, satisfied. “You should visit more often.”
You laughed. “I don’t have a lot to offer here.”
“Yeah, but if you come back,” Lucy’s friend Niamh interrupted. “Then Professor Weasley will, too.”
Your heart clenched. The reality of Charlie’s short-lived stay in England was palpable in increments of days now. And you didn’t need another reminder of it. You glanced back at him, hounded by students and dissolving further into the crowd. “I’ll speak with him,” you promised, and it seemed to be enough to placate the girls.
As if he needed his ego stroked further, every following question Lucy and Niamh had was about Charlie. ‘So, how long will he be in Romania again? Does he plan to visit England soon? Is he a good roommate?’ You fended them off with vague answers until Niamh asked you a particularly odd question.
“Do you know his brothers?” Niamh asked excitedly.
“Of course she does,” Lucy retorted. She huffed at a snowflake that had tickled her nose. “He literally said she helped his brothers develop those Skivving Snackboxes. Were you even listening before the exam?”
“No,” Clarissa interjected with a snicker. She fanned herself dramatically. “She was too busy staring at the professor.”
“As if you weren’t!” Niamh shot back. “You know what, Clarissa? I’m almost happy he’s gone because for the first time in months, I won’t have to hear you drone on about every time he’s complimented you.”
Clarissa stuck her tongue out. “You’re just jealous.”
“Why would I be? He told me and everyone else the same thing,” Niamh retorted.
Lucy rolled her eyes and loudly exclaimed: “Am I the only one here not obsessed with Professor Weasley?”
You tallied the group and deduced that the answer was yes. Lucy was the only one not smitten with Charlie. But you weren’t going to answer her question because someone else already had.
“Probably.”
The four of you all turned around. For the first time, you weren’t the one caught red-handed.
“As a matter of fact, (Y/N) is obsessed with me,” Charlie explained.
You sputtered, about to defend yourself, but the excitement from the younger girls eclipsed anything that you could offer.
“Professor Weasley!” Clarissa exclaimed. “It’s so lovely to see you again.”
“Always a pleasure to see the three of you,” Charlie responded. “But you have a train to catch and (Y/N) and I have papers to grade.” He paused. “Then I’ll find out if you were paying attention in my class.”
The girls giggled as they waved goodbye.
You never appreciated silence more than you did the moment you entered your trusty quarters. Charlie must’ve sensed your loosening limbs inching towards the bed because he quickly reminded you: “Let’s get to grading, then we can have fun.”
He interrupted your free fall onto bed by scooping you up with his arms. Before you could blink, his fingers padded your scapula and your chest fell flush with his abdomen. There wasn’t a modicum of space between your bodies. “I’ll forcibly remove you from the bed if need be.”
You inwardly groaned, but then reminded yourself that your time with Charlie was ticking away. You should be grateful for any morsel of time he fed you. Mouth open, willing to take it… in all interpretations of the meaning.
“Alright, Professor Weasley,” you conceded. “Where shall we do it? Here, or in the library?”
Charlie smirked. “If you keep calling me professor, I’m going to have to say here.”
Blood shunted immediately to your cheeks. You bit down hard on your inside lip. You’d said too much, gone too far. “I vote for the library then,” you offered quickly.
You surmised that agreeing, removing your clothing, and beckoning Charlie to grade papers on the bed was not the appropriate response.
Charlie’s lips pulled down into a pout. “That’s no fun. Too much surveillance there for things we’ll be doing.”
“I thought we had to focus,” you reminded Charlie with a nudge. You gathered your ink and quills. “Your words, not mine.”
Charlie hurried after you. “I regret giving you an option.”
You quickened your steps, giggling as Charlie chased you down the desolate hall to the library. Somewhere in the murky depths of adulthood, you felt like a child again, or a rebellious student running away from the law. The tones of Charlie’s laugh, the patter of your steps… you would be remiss not to commit it to memory. So you did, blinking hard to imitate the lens of a camera, trying to capture Charlie in this light. Two more weeks and it would be gone.
After hours of grading papers and a quiet dinner in the Great Hall, you retreated back to your quarters at Charlie’s insistence that you had to head to bed sooner than not. He kept pestering you about an early morning.
You groaned and pressed your ears closer to the pillow. If you didn’t hear him, then you could feign ignorance, right?
“You can’t pretend you didn’t hear it.” Charlie shuffled over. You eyed him—well, specifically his body—unashamedly through a clandestine crease in the sheets. He was so damn fit that it was impossible to resist ogling him. Your eyes stuck to the outline of his frame like honey. Not your fault he had changed into a black tee that looked like second skin.
“Yeah, so let’s call it an early night.”
As he approached, his fingers curled under to lift the hem of his shirt. Slowly, the same black shirt you’d been admiring peeled off his body, revealing a very toned midsection. Two attempts to show his midriff off in one day? This was no accident. He was trying to kill you.
Charlie swam under the sheets, gliding into the bed.
You laid there, immobilized. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t predict his next step. So, when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, it took every muscle in your body to hold back a gasp. His arm was all muscle, so strong, and undoubtedly, could wrangle you in any way he wanted in bed.
“Do you reckon it’s a little chilly in here?” Charlie asked. The sleep in his voice was apparent, a far cry from his bouncy disposition a moment ago.
“No,” you uttered.
“Mhm, you are sure?” he asked, nuzzling his face into your head. He closed his eyes and sighed, relieving himself of the long day. “Because I am.”
Well, good for him, because you weren’t sleeping a damn wink.
You stirred to the chirping of birds outside the window. So you did eventually fall asleep. You weren’t sure when the fireplace burned out, but you’d succumbed much earlier than that. Rays of the early morning sun filtered through the slivers between the curtains. Through the gap, snowflakes pelted against the window. You must’ve gotten up early by yourself, an impossible feat according to Charlie. As if to prove it to him, you pushed yourself off the bed and was about to proclaim it in triumph when—
You couldn’t. There was something keeping you in place.
Your heart thudded lightly in your chest. Curious hands flew upwards to assess what was keeping you chained. It was warm. It was an arm slanting over your torso and cradling your waist. Charlie’s arm must’ve filtered under your shirt sometime during the night. His cheek lay against your head with such proximity that his breathing was audible. This was becoming all too familiar now.
Staying like this forever was tempting. You shuffled gently in hopes he would wake. It would be wrong to take advantage of what was clearly an accident. But perhaps he did want to hold you like this. Perhaps he wanted you to want it too.
“Mhm, (Y/N),” Charlie groaned in his sleep. “Stop moving, you’re—hn.” He pressed closer and his grip on your waist tightened like a vice.
You—what?
You arched your back to get a closer view of him. That was when you realised there was something pressed up against you.
Oh, Merlin.
Charlie was hard.
Maybe if you’d recognized this sooner, you would’ve stopped wriggling around him. Was this why he wanted you to stop moving?
His voice was thick with sleep as he hummed in your ear. He could conjure unholy images with that voice. You squeezed your legs together, trying to alleviate the building pressure in the area.
You gasped softly when Charlie pressed his erection harder against you. He felt so big and impossibly hard against your ass. You could feel the turmoil he was in through the jut of his hips and the faint pulsing behind his briefs. You’d seen it so many times in your head: the wet, red tip of his cock dripping against the strained fabric, flesh tones visible under the black cotton, his appendage precariously close to popping out from the elastic.
You turned back straight at him, trying to still your legs so as to not aggravate his condition. “Charlie,” you whispered. “Charlie, hey.”
One beautiful blue eye cracked open. Nothing about his gaze was lucid; it was glazed over in a dreamy paint.
“Good morning,” he mumbled before shutting his eye again.
Despite having spoken and given all the time in the world to realise what he was doing to you, he tightened his grip around you and maintained pressure on your ass.
“I woke up in time,” you desperately bragged, trying to get him to wake up and stop. Because your self-control was now a bomb with just under a minute to detonation.
“Weird,” was all he said. His head tilted downwards, his lips finding their way to your neck and his hands kneading the skin of your stomach. Your eyes fluttered closed and you swallowed a moan. Thirty seconds to detonation. Your limbs went limp when his fingers dotted the skin under your breasts. He was inches away from fondling a nipple, and you fought every terrible urge to shift your chest downwards so he could. “It’s now me who doesn’t want to get up.”
Was he awake or still asleep? Was this intentional or accidental? A whirlwind of questions was storming inside your head, and you couldn’t come to any conclusion because his erection was lined up so perfectly with your slit that you reckoned it had to be intentional. If only your shorts weren’t there, Merlin help you—
The side of Charlie’s finger accidentally grazed the side of a pert nipple.
“S-sure is—,” you choked out, neck craning backwards in pleasure.
Ten seconds to detonation. You might be safe from the explosion if you burned alive in his arms first.
“Mhm,” Charlie vocalized. He withdrew his arm from your waist and turned over to face his nightstand. “Shit. I didn’t realise it was this late. Let’s get a move on, (Y/N).”
He got out of bed and stretched, hips jutting to one side, arms extended over his head.
He was sleeping, you concluded. So he meant nothing of it.
Whatever heat Charlie sparked in you was completely put out by the elements outside. You found yourself on a broom, flying behind Charlie to Merlin knows where—the end of the world, maybe. Shards of hardened snow sliced your face as you picked up speed against the headwind.
“Are we there yet?” you called out through suppressed breaths, doubtful Charlie could hear. The blowback from the gusts was overwhelming. The window swallowed your voice. Every time you inhaled, snowflakes pierced your lungs instead of air. Charlie was only identifiable by his ginger hair that was being violently manhandled by wind. You were terrified to lose sight of him lest you lose yourself in this uncharted part of the highlands.
“Yes!” Charlie called back.
“Can you quantify that?” you almost screamed.
“Just a little longer!”
“Can you slow down a bit at least? Charlie?”
”Get closer to me.” He stopped mid-air affording you the opportunity to catch up to him. When you were by his side, he began to fly again, ensuring you were in tandem. “Come on.”
Were you going to die?
As if he could read your mind, he added: “You’re not going to die, you know.”
‘No, I know, I just—”
“Just a moment longer, okay?” Charlie asked earnestly, eyes focussed on the road ahead. You nodded, under the impression he wasn’t playing games.
A couple of treacherous minutes later, Charlie finally signalled his dismount. You followed suit, landing in the snow. You stood on the flat land atop a cliff. The gray skies pulled downwards on the perimeters of the area, entrapping you in a snowglobe. And as if you were inside one, the trees looked impossibly serene and the snow kissed your exposed skin gently.
It was quiet in the train, it was quiet at Hogwarts, but it couldn’t be as quiet as it was now. The winds had completely silenced themselves, somehow making it possible to hear the snow fall. The adrenaline from the journey settled into nothing. It was so tranquil that you’d lost sense of where you were for a moment.
Then, a voice called out.
“Charlie!”
Instinctively, you whipped around to the source of the sound, but the strong hands that had latched onto your shoulders turned you back the other way.
“Close your eyes,” Charlie urged, covering your eyes with his gloved hands.
“Why?”
You were going to die.
“You’re not going to die,” he promised.
“The fact that you’ve promised me this twice is reassuring.”
As if conceding, Charlie lifted his hands off your eyes. “Fine, look.”
The light reflecting off the snow was blinding. You blinked hard to recalibrate first, then to locate whatever Charlie was hiding from you. Your eyes flitted from the white sky, to the trees, then finally to the ground. Without warning, a stream of blue flames shredded the snow, leaving nothing but a bare, earthy patch in its wake.
“What was that?” you exclaimed, falling back into Charlie who cradled you in a protective embrace. Whatever it was, he wasn’t affected in the slightest.
“Who’s this, Charlie?” A man with dark, curly hair and chains wrapped around his arms slowly approached. “Morgana and I were promised a larger audience.”
“My protégé,” Charlie answered, his words tickling your ear.
“Hm,” the man voiced with an amused twist of his mouth. “Doesn’t look it.”
“(Y/N).” Charlie lifted you back on the soles of your feet, standing you straight. “This is Marcus. He works at the Department of International Transport at the Ministry. He’s stationed in Northern Europe.”
Something clicked then. Marcus’s tense black ringlets contrasted the bright sky. His smile reached his mossy green eyes. Marcus was Mallory’s brother. “It’s nice to meet you, Marcus.”
“All the same,” he responded.
“And that up there”—Charlie gestured up to the sky, fingers trailing a thick chain, an adoring glint in his eyes—“is Morgana.”
Morgana was a dragon. Your eyes widened—you’d never seen one of these with your own eyes. Morgana possessed brilliant blue scales. She looked absolutely magnificent and imposing. Her eyes were trained on you which was unnerving, but Charlie’s hold on you willed you not to be afraid.
Marcus unshackled Morgana. “You lovebirds let me know when you’re done, then I’ll transfer Lady Morgana back to Sweden.”
“Thanks, Marcus. We’ll catch up later.”
Charlie waited until Marcus disapparated to speak. “Morgana’s a Swedish Short Snout. She’s the gentlest of the lot, totally harmless. An oddity or the runt, but I figure oddity is a better descriptor, seeing as she prefers humans to other dragons. I figured it would be a good experience for my students, but we couldn’t get the permits for Morgana’s cross-border travel in time.” Charlie whistled lowly and Morgana heeled immediately, flying over.
“They would’ve loved it,” you assured, grappling with the fact that you were a foot away from a living, breathing dragon.
Charlie shuffled over to Morgana and placed a hand on her snout. Morgana reacted immediately, cradling her head into Charlie’s neck. He laughed and leaned into her.
“I’ve never heard of a dragon being so friendly,” you remarked, still uneasy about your proximity to the beast.
“That’s why she’s an oddity. She has to be kept in a special pen in Sweden because she wouldn’t last a day in the wild. I fear what would happen if she crossed paths with a Hungarian Horntail, or worse, a wizard with nefarious intentions.”
Charlie paused for a moment. “That’s why I’ll always speak against dragon domestication.”
“You don’t have to justify that. It’s wrong in all senses,” you agreed.
“Go on, say hello to her,” Charlie encouraged.
Timidly, you reached out to graze Morgana’s snout. She responded immediately with a happy huff and leaned into you like she did with Charlie. Charlie beamed. “She adores you. See, you’re a natural with beasts.”
You ran your hands over her shiny blue scales. Morgana rumbled contentedly. “I reckon it’s as you say, Charlie. She just likes everyone.”
Suddenly, Morgana stomped forwards. “Merlin!” you exclaimed, falling backwards into the snow and bracing for impact, fully expecting to be incinerated. Instead, Morgana kneeled down, her body flush against you, and her flattened wings splayed on the ground.
“What?” you asked through ragged breaths. “What does this mean, Charlie? I thought I was going to die.”
“It means she wants to take you on a flight,” Charlie explained, pride tinging his voice. “I’d encourage you to mount her, but I promised Marcus no funny business. I’m heavily indebted to him for this, so I can’t even fathom trying to get around him.”
“But,” Charlie grasped Morgana’s harness, “you can leave today knowing you tamed a dragon. And honestly, for that, they should fix up your old grade in Care of Magical Creatures.”
“You said she was an oddity that loved humans more than other dragons,” you rebutted.
Charlie ignored your counterargument. “I’m going to walk Morgana back to Marcus, alright? You stay put.”
“Bye, Morgana,” you said with a heavy frown. You’d met Morgana for all of ten minutes and you were going to miss her dearly. You caressed her face and smiled when she sank into your touch.
“Ask her keepers to take good care of her for me, would you?”
Charlie nodded. “Certaintly.” Then, he chained Morgana and led her into the forest.
You sat in the snow, unable to withdraw your eyes from Charlie’s retreating frame. Though you couldn’t hear the particularities of his words, he was definitely conversing with Morgana. He loved his dragons so much. Even a fool could tell that Romania was where he belonged. Not here, not with you.
So begged the question: why had Charlie brought you here? Certainly, he hadn’t painstakingly arranged permits with the Ministry and Marcus just so you could get over your silly little phobia, had he? Nothing he had said made sense either. He stressed that Morgana was meant to be an educational bit for his students, but he’d pleaded for you to come back to Hogwarts with him, presumably for this. Or to molest you in bed. Either way, if it were this difficult, why couldn’t he have annulled the arrangement?
Your world was spinning violently. You couldn’t assume Charlie had done this just for you, but you couldn’t assume he hadn’t either.
Burdened with a heavy hypothesis, you had to find a way to prove it or die trying.
You pushed yourself off the snowy ground when Charlie emerged emptyhanded from the dense greenery.
“You’re still here,” Charlie remarked, jogging over with a handsome smile. “Good. I was worried you’d run away after what I put you through—”
“Charlie,” you interrupted. “Yesterday, you asked me to find a way to make your jumper look better.” You bit down on your lip, fingers grazing your coat buttons. “I think I know how.”
>>NEXT CHAPTER
CHAPTER DIRECTORY
TAGLIST:@badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan@morks-watermelon @nobodysbabydoll @annoyingbean630 @bathwater101@ladylizzieofdarbyshire@unrulynique @sarah3245 @hoeforsirius @crusty-lil-gremlin @atomictyphoonkitten @linnygirl09 @adhxmoony @jjsblueberry @bluewillowchina1 @chippedchina-teacup @coffeepunk22 @audhdscribbles @mlnscloud @sveretrice @yuptha-tsme @fore45fore @navs-bhat @xisab @melsunshine @mesii2221 @hauntedwombateggmug @annoyinglyspookytiger @lafillefrancaisee @theroyalmanatee @rottenstyx @rhysology @sarcasticvodka @bbkissme99 @sveax27-blog @letusthrive @bmyva1entine @urgirlkassie @forgetmenot-romy @shwnirwin @frutafresca45 @theinkofyourfeather
Do you have/have you done any nautical-themed dividers with anchors as a focus? Also, would it be ok to use your dividers on sites other than Tumblr- like Toyhouse? (With credit ofc) Thank you in advance and your graphics are lovely :]!
Caffeine Heart: Bonus Scene 1
Pairing: College student!Lee Know x reader.
✩Strangers to frienemies to lovers.✩
WARNINGS: Lee Know is kinda rude at first (my baby would never but it's for the plot), y/n is immediately down bad but who can blame her. Dates and times do not matter pls ignore them.
SUMMARY: Lee Minho has a small group of people that he likes. He doesn't need anyone else. Then enter you, Han’s new project partner. He didn’t see you often at first, only occasionally when you would drop off drinks to Han. Then he's seeing you everywhere and he hates it. At least that what he tries to tell himself.
Note: SURPRISE!!! I wanted to share this scene of Jisung and y/n meeting again after game night. It didn't fit with the tone of chapter 6 but I love this friendship and wanted everyone to see it. Until next time!!!
TAGLIST: CLOSED
SCREENSHOTS: 1
wc: 818
PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT
Your foot was bouncing so fast you'd started to lose feeling. Every nerve in your body was on alert. You've never been this nervous to meet with Jisung. Not even that first time. That was before though. Before harsh words that cut at your confidence.
Despite Ji's texts immediately apologizing there was a part of you that worried he felt the same way Minho did. That you were always popping up, always too much. It wasn't the first time you had heard that. Surely if Minho saw that Jisung did too.
You had planned out what you would say, how the apology would go. You'd back off. Only communicating when it was necessary for the project. It was natural, you'd overstayed your welcome and he was too nice to tell you that.
"y/n? are you ok?" jumping up when you hear someone calling your name you knock you water bottle over. Scrambling to pick it up before it spills over your papers. You take an extra second, one final deep breath gathering your strength and courage before looking up.
Jisung is looking at you, worry evident in his gaze. His eyes slowly take you in. Hesitant to move, reminding you of someone afraid to spook a wild animal. "sorry I tried knocking first but then you didn't answer so I thought you might not be here yet. Then I saw you and it looked like you might be spiraling. I wasn't sure the best way to bring you out of it."
Silence settles and you're not sure what to say. You're not used to anyone other than K seeing you in such a vulnerable state. Usually able to handle your emotions better. "Sorry, I was thinking and I didn't hear you." You move to sit back down suddenly feeling too exposed just standing there. "Should we get started?"
"If you want to we can. I also brought some food if you want to eat something first. I was too nervous earlier to eat and I thought maybe you would be too… which now sounds presumptuous and I might be overstepping sorry you can forget I said-" His words catch when he looks back at you. You can feel the pricking of your eyes and the lump in your throat. You're trying to keep them from falling but something about Jisung makes you feel like you can let go.
Under different circumstances his reaction to the first tear falling would be funny. He scrambles around the table and tries to catch it. "Hey I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you. I'll throw the food away. We can focus on the project. Whatever you want." He's rushing his words out barely giving you a chance to respond. You shake your head and tug his arm when he moves to do just that.
Between him tripping and starting to fall and you standing up the two of you crash into what could maybe be seen as a hug. Both awkward and feeling overwhelmed. It doesn't take more than a couple seconds for him to register and adjust so it's more comfortable. He wraps his arms around you, tight enough to convey that he needs this just as much as you do.
"I'm sorry I ruined game night. I know you were excited to see your friends." He pulls away and grabs your face in his hands.
"Hey absolutely not! You are not the one who ruined game night. All the blame goes on that idiot who I won't name. You did nothing wrong."
"Still I know that I can be a lot for some people. If that's the case you can tell me. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Y/n you have never made me uncomfortable. In all my time here and the countless projects I've had to do you are the first partner who I don't dread working with."
"I feel like I crossed a line and I just want you to know if you want space then that's ok."
"Space is the last thing I want!! I have missed texting you the past couple days. Our conversations have become a highlight and I really don't want to lost them or you. Plus I got Maki's number and he seems really funny."
You finally let out a laugh. "Oh he's going to love that."
"I'm not sure. He didn't seem to want to talk to me."
"Trust me Ji, he has been plotting on how to get close to you since we first learned you were 'Mr.Heart attack in a cup' He is just protective and was worried. You should message him."
Jisung sets out the food and you can feel the tension leaving the room. You didn't realize how much his friendship was starting to mean to you until you almost lost it. This didn't fix everything that broke but it was a small step.
✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*
Main Masterlist | Series Master List
✧✿✧ Tag List: @conscientiousmenace @vxyselectric @geni-627 @book-mark @porangporangxlinosxx @keiraryan @luvvvivi @numberonedefendorpenguin @ikeues @missvanjii @astrophia13 @certainstarfishmiracle @babystay7 @oddinarythoughts @smlltlkmarsyee @estella-novella @felxvrs @crowfrompluto @i-bitch-you-bitch @nemogadazapomnq @iicrxm @n0vehiswriting @partyinthesadness @peskybirdysya @flippedccc @crypticcompassion @bluedenebii @mel-onthemoon @unemployedcarat @snclols @jeonginnieswifey @sidekidzz @luna585 @jakobinanina @mariahxrrera @stay-reblogs @rosieroses-stuff @insert-fangirl-screech-here @alaya-6 @softlyseob @miyah-kaulitz @yxna-bliss @emmyf1 @bekindtourself @c9b7luv @bookswillfindyouaway @imnotsupposedtobedoingthis @nazz-ahmed @eos-princess @exquisite-penar @9824web @therealmrsbahng ✧✿✧
Their friendship is so 🥹😭 I’m glad they’re still 🤞despite a certain SOMEONE nearly causing the very thing he was trying to avoid 😒
Do I sense Maki and Han shenanigans incoming
Caffeine Heart: Chapter 6
Pairing: College student!Lee Know x reader.
✩Strangers to frienemies to lovers.✩
WARNINGS: Lee Know is kinda rude at first (my baby would never but it's for the plot), y/n is immediately down bad but who can blame her. Dates and times do not matter pls ignore them.
SUMMARY: Lee Minho has a small group of people that he likes. He doesn't need anyone else. Then enter you, Han’s new project partner. He didn’t see you often at first, only occasionally when you would drop off drinks to Han. Then he's seeing you everywhere and he hates it. At least that what he tries to tell himself.
TAGLIST: CLOSED
SCREENSHOTS: 12
wc: 2.7 K
PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT
The silence lingering in the air made his movements feel too loud. He's putting all his focus on mixing the batter so he doesn't do something stupid like demand their address, drive across town, and give this punk a piece of his mind. That would make you upset so instead he focuses on providing a quality breakfast.
"I'm sorry." It's said softly and between sniffles and he could almost convince himself it wasn't said at all. His movements halt and his head shoots up. He looks at you, really looks at you, eyes still red and puffy from the night before, curling in on yourself like you're trying to take up less space. It's a sight he has hoped to never see again.
"Now what could you possibly have done to be sorry about?"
"It's only been a couple of weeks and I'm already bringing drama back to your life. You shouldn't have to handle my issues."
He abandons his task completely to round the counter. He takes your face in his hands forcing you to meet his eyes. "You never have to apologize for coming to me. We are family and I'm always going to be there for you. I love that I get to be a safe space for you." He sees fresh tears welling in your eyes and his heart aches at the sight.
He needs to control himself so he can be what y/n actually needs. If it were up to him though he would get her to tell him the address and drive over and find that poor excuse of a man. But she made him promise not to do that and since she still has to work with Jisung he will keep that promise. However if that sack of bones goes anywhere near him all bets are off.
Continued sniffles bring him back to the present. He will avenge her another day, for now he is going to put his all into helping her redeem her weekend. Going back to the pancake mix he makes quick work of finishing breakfast. “You know it’s been a little while since we’ve done something just the two of us. What if we went out and got pasta and went to go see that movie you’ve been trying to get us to watch.” She reacts exactly how he knows she will. She looks up to analyze his features, looking for any sign indicating an ulterior motive.
“I thought you didn’t want to see it?”
“Well I rewatched the trailer and it actually looks interesting.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
“Plus how could I let you skip a movie with your favorite actor.”
“That is definitely an added benefit of the movie.. ok if you insist we can go see it!” When she sees he is being genuine she lets herself laugh. Now this was the sight he wanted to see. Her body relaxing and the smile returning to its rightful place. The two of them know that he never actually wanted to see this movie but he would do anything to keep her smiling. “In that case I have to make sure I’m date ready.”
“For who? You’ve gone out with me in this exact outfit before hundreds of times.”
“For Byung Hun Lee.”
“Ahh of course, I should have known.” By the time he plates the food she is coming back downstairs. She looks relatively the same but she added some makeup to cover up the red around her face. He is watching her head to the table and is curious when she stops and takes a detour right for him. Careful not to know the two plates in his hands she wraps her arms around his torso.
“Thank you K, really. I really don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life. I love you” He was doing such a good job at keeping his composure until now. He hugs her back to the best of his ability and gives the top of her head a kiss.
“Always y/n you know that.”
Rolling over for the tenth time and bashing his pillow with his fist feels like a futile attempt to get comfortable. He knows he won’t be anytime soon but isn’t ready to call it yet. Desperate for sleep but every time he closes his eyes he sees her face. It was shattered and raw and a look that took his breath away when she refused to look at him. He shouldn’t have said it like that and he knows that. What choice did he have though! Jisung wouldn’t stop pushing and he needed him to stop. Just his luck that when he lets his words twist she was right around the corner.
Lying there for what feels like another hour he spares a glance to the clock. The red font taunts him with 3:28. Huffing he throws the blankets off, if he isn’t going to sleep he might as well be productive. Grabbing his hoodie he makes his way to the kitchen. Trying to silently get water before deciding his next move. Just a few hours ago he and Jisung were fighting in here.
He wants to respect Jisung’s space, he knows he should leave him alone until he wakes up in the morning and can apologize better. But if Jisung wakes up and sees another apology maybe that will make his in person apology a little easier… Seeing nobody protest the idea he grabs his phone and opens his messages.
Feeling only slightly better now that he has had some sort of conversation with Jisung he heads back to this room. This time when his head hits the pillow he is only fighting sleep for a few minutes before finally drifting into slumber.
Too soon he is jolting awake images of y/n’s face still haunting his mind. How he wishes his sleep had of been dreamless like it usually is. But no, he got to experience his worst moment on repeat analyzing her features over and over. Surely it’s just a guilty conscience. He bashed her for his own issues. Once he apologizes things can go back to normal. They can avoid each other and pretend like the last couple weeks never happened. How hard could it be. She was everywhere after all. He will go up to her next time he sees her and apologize. Explain the misunderstanding and then he can put his focus back on the winter showcase.
Thursday -
“She’s vanished. How is it that she was everywhere. It felt like every time I turned around she was somewhere nearby. Jisung how am I supposed to apologize if she is suddenly a ghost?”
"Maybe you should make an effort to find her rather than assuming you'll see her somewhere?"
"How was I supposed to know she'd fall off the face of the Earth?" Jisung has been extremely unhelpful in his pursuit, if you could call it that, to apologize. Which he did warn him that he wasn't getting in the middle.
Jisung slurping on his coffee gave Minho an idea. "Hey, is she still bringing you coffee? What if you happened to let it slip where you were earlier before this and then I can pick it up for you tomorrow." Suddenly all the noise ceases.
"Min, what part of I'm not getting involved did you miss? Not only do you want me to betray her trust but then you want to ambush her when she would be expecting me… Are you dumb?"
"Ok well you don't have to be mean about it."
"No seriously, if I were to do that she would become the absent partner you feared I was going to have. I'm sorry Min but I meant it when I said I wasn't helping. If you want to conspire talk to Seungmin or Jeongin but keep me out of it."
"And give Seungmin the satisfaction of needing his help… absolutely not! It's only been a few days I'm sure it won't be too much longer before I see her around."
"Whatever, can we please focus on what we're actually here to study. I am freaking out about my music history test."
"Yes focusing!"
Which was a lie. Minho spent the next forty minutes staring at the same page on his screen. He just needed to wait and he would cross paths with you, apologize, and then everything would go back to normal. The pit in his chest would go away when the guilt subsided.
“I’m gonna walk back try and try to clear my head. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” He doesn’t give Jisung much time to respond before he’s packed up and out the door. When he steps out he fills his lungs with fresh air. The tightening of his chest slightly loosens, he knows what is going to help so he orients himself towards the studio.
About halfway there he hears it. A laugh that stops him in his tracks. He's heard it before, this could be his opportunity. When he searches the area though he can't find you. He takes a detour in the direction of the noise. He feels it echoing in his mind. Only the thought of seeing you fueling his actions. Across the yard he spots you, sitting on a bench with your back facing him. His steps rush as he heads your direction.
"y/n?" He puts his hand out and grabs your shoulder. When you turn though he's confused. He is met with a confused looking woman looking back and forth between him and his outstretched hand and her friends.
"I think you've got me confused with someone else sorry." She takes a few steps back and resumes talking.
"Yeah… sorry to interrupt"
It doesn't make sense, he knows he heard you, so where did you go?
He's filled with the urgent need to get somewhere comfortable and safe. Thankfully he knows the route to the studio by heart and before he can fall too deep into his head he finds himself there.
The thoughts dragging him down fall off of him while he dances the hours away. By the time he collapses and considers calling it a day everything feels lighter. Dread no longer pressing against every thought fighting to get in and take over his mind.
Moving on autopilot he packs up his bags and closes the studio down. On his way out he sees someone he recognizes and is sure about it this time. While he might now have found you this just might be the quickest way to find you.
"Hey K wait for a second!" He jogs over to where the other boy now stands frozen in place. When he gets a few steps away he speaks again, "You're friends with y/n right?" He knows it's the wrong thing to say as soon as it leaves his mouth. The way the boy in front of him reacts to your name giving away how much he underestimated your friendship.
K turns slowly so he is facing Minho. A chill runs down his spine when their eyes meet. It's clear K is holding back something from the intense glare being shot.
"Yeah I do, which is why I know that you really don't want to have this conversation with me right now." Minho's eyes drop and he notices K's fist clenching and white knuckling his bag.
"Yeah, it's actually about that… I wanted to try and talk to her and apologize. I said some hurtful things and it wasn't really about her. I have a lot going on right now and Ji was pushing too much and-"
"What did you say?"
"What?"
"That night, what did you say about her?"
"She didn't tell you?"
"No she didn't. Which tells me that it was bad. So tell me what you said."
"I mean I don't really remember specifically…" K turns to leave clearly done with the conversation. Minho is stuck there not knowing what to do. Weighing trying to find you himself or beg for K's help. Neither seems like it's going to get him anywhere. K is about to reach the door and he can't stop the words from blurting out. "WAIT! I know I said something along the lines of her being clingy and that her being everywhere was too much…. or something like that."
If he thought K was mad earlier the way he strode back to him was downright rage. Managing to stop with a few steps separating them K was breathing intensely and staring at him like he was the worst person roaming the planet. And he kinda felt like he was in that moment.
"You said what?"
"I-"
"no no I heard you and for your safety please don't repeat it."
Silence sits between them for a few second so he takes the pause as his opening and dares to speak again, "I just want to know if she's ok."
"Is she ok?" The sound coming out of K could be considered a laugh but there was no lightness to it. "I am going to give you some information that at this point you don't really deserve. Y/n is one of the most compassionate and tenderhearted individuals I've met. She cares and feels deeply. The y/n that you see, the loud, energetic, chaotic, and even slightly unhinged person that you see took a lot of time to create. Somehow despite barely knowing her you managed to say the exact words that hurt her the most."
"I didn't know she was there."
"Is that supposed to make it better? Do you even realize how much she wanted to be your friend? Did she have her own way to go about it yeah, but she was always trying to respect your boundaries in the process. She may seem like a lot, but she is one a loyal friend who would go to any lengths to make sure the people she cares about are taken care of."
He can see tears forming in K's eyes and he's sure that's why he stopped his words for a moment. Trying to collect himself before continuing.
"You never tried to get to know her and think you can make comments like that? She has worked so hard for years to get to where she is now. If it were up to me you would never lay eyes on her again. You definitely don't deserve to." He tilts his head back looking up to the ceiling. Taking in a deep breath, holding it, before finally releasing it and looking back to him.
"But it's not up to me. and since she didn't tell me what you said I'm sure somewhere deep down she wants to give you another chance."
This confuses him. "Why would she?"
"Beats me, clearly she must have seen something worthwhile in you. and like I said she cares a lot about people. So if she does decide to give you the time of day again you better earn it and never make her feel this way again. The ONLY reason you're walking away without a couple bruises is because of her."
K doesn't let him say anything else. He grabs his bag and walks out the door.
Minho spends the walk back home replaying the conversation in his head. The way K talked about you was intense. It reminded him of how he defended Jisung last year. Maybe he had been wrong. It seemed that way with everything he learned. By the time he made it home he knew what he had to do.
Jisung's attention shifted to the front door when he walked inside. His eyes analyzing him top to bottom making sure he's ok. "You're back later than I thought you'd be."
"Yeah sorry I meant to text but time got away from me. It's been an enlightening evening."
"I don't like the look you're giving right now. I've seen it before. That's your determined plotting face. Please don't cause me any problems Min!!"
He laughs at Jisung's words. They really did know each other too well. "I promise you Ji I won't cause too many issues." He heads straight upstairs to his room to start planning his next moves. If you weren't going to show up, he would have to find you himself.
✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*
Main Masterlist | Series Master List
✧✿✧ Tag List: @conscientiousmenace @vxyselectric @geni-627 @book-mark @porangporangxlinosxx @keiraryan @luvvvivi @numberonedefendorpenguin @ikeues @missvanjii @astrophia13 @certainstarfishmiracle @babystay7 @oddinarythoughts @smlltlkmarsyee @estella-novella @felxvrs @crowfrompluto @i-bitch-you-bitch @nemogadazapomnq @iicrxm @n0vehiswriting @partyinthesadness @peskybirdysya @flippedccc @crypticcompassion @bluedenebii @mel-onthemoon @unemployedcarat @snclols @jeonginnieswifey @sidekidzz @luna585 @jakobinanina @mariahxrrera @stay-reblogs @rosieroses-stuff @insert-fangirl-screech-here @alaya-6 @softlyseob @miyah-kaulitz @yxna-bliss @emmyf1 @bekindtourself @c9b7luv @bookswillfindyouaway @imnotsupposedtobedoingthis @nazz-ahmed @eos-princess @exquisite-penar @9824web @therealmrsbahng ✧✿✧
Oh god, the fact that none of this is in her POV 😭 poor girl must be spiraling, LEE MINHO WHEN I CATCH YOU
But she’s so loved 🥹 K, Maki, Jo, and Han all working overtime to worry over her! Honestly they all have such good self control not clocking that man 😒 he’s lucky she’s the forgiving type…
It’s actually evil for you to make him so cute at the end after he pulled what he did with his plotting face and promising not to cause too many problems
Caffeine Heart: Chapter 6
Pairing: College student!Lee Know x reader.
✩Strangers to frienemies to lovers.✩
WARNINGS: Lee Know is kinda rude at first (my baby would never but it's for the plot), y/n is immediately down bad but who can blame her. Dates and times do not matter pls ignore them.
SUMMARY: Lee Minho has a small group of people that he likes. He doesn't need anyone else. Then enter you, Han’s new project partner. He didn’t see you often at first, only occasionally when you would drop off drinks to Han. Then he's seeing you everywhere and he hates it. At least that what he tries to tell himself.
TAGLIST: CLOSED
SCREENSHOTS: 12
wc: 2.7 K
PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT
The silence lingering in the air made his movements feel too loud. He's putting all his focus on mixing the batter so he doesn't do something stupid like demand their address, drive across town, and give this punk a piece of his mind. That would make you upset so instead he focuses on providing a quality breakfast.
"I'm sorry." It's said softly and between sniffles and he could almost convince himself it wasn't said at all. His movements halt and his head shoots up. He looks at you, really looks at you, eyes still red and puffy from the night before, curling in on yourself like you're trying to take up less space. It's a sight he has hoped to never see again.
"Now what could you possibly have done to be sorry about?"
"It's only been a couple of weeks and I'm already bringing drama back to your life. You shouldn't have to handle my issues."
He abandons his task completely to round the counter. He takes your face in his hands forcing you to meet his eyes. "You never have to apologize for coming to me. We are family and I'm always going to be there for you. I love that I get to be a safe space for you." He sees fresh tears welling in your eyes and his heart aches at the sight.
He needs to control himself so he can be what y/n actually needs. If it were up to him though he would get her to tell him the address and drive over and find that poor excuse of a man. But she made him promise not to do that and since she still has to work with Jisung he will keep that promise. However if that sack of bones goes anywhere near him all bets are off.
Continued sniffles bring him back to the present. He will avenge her another day, for now he is going to put his all into helping her redeem her weekend. Going back to the pancake mix he makes quick work of finishing breakfast. “You know it’s been a little while since we’ve done something just the two of us. What if we went out and got pasta and went to go see that movie you’ve been trying to get us to watch.” She reacts exactly how he knows she will. She looks up to analyze his features, looking for any sign indicating an ulterior motive.
“I thought you didn’t want to see it?”
“Well I rewatched the trailer and it actually looks interesting.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
“Plus how could I let you skip a movie with your favorite actor.”
“That is definitely an added benefit of the movie.. ok if you insist we can go see it!” When she sees he is being genuine she lets herself laugh. Now this was the sight he wanted to see. Her body relaxing and the smile returning to its rightful place. The two of them know that he never actually wanted to see this movie but he would do anything to keep her smiling. “In that case I have to make sure I’m date ready.”
“For who? You’ve gone out with me in this exact outfit before hundreds of times.”
“For Byung Hun Lee.”
“Ahh of course, I should have known.” By the time he plates the food she is coming back downstairs. She looks relatively the same but she added some makeup to cover up the red around her face. He is watching her head to the table and is curious when she stops and takes a detour right for him. Careful not to know the two plates in his hands she wraps her arms around his torso.
“Thank you K, really. I really don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life. I love you” He was doing such a good job at keeping his composure until now. He hugs her back to the best of his ability and gives the top of her head a kiss.
“Always y/n you know that.”
Rolling over for the tenth time and bashing his pillow with his fist feels like a futile attempt to get comfortable. He knows he won’t be anytime soon but isn’t ready to call it yet. Desperate for sleep but every time he closes his eyes he sees her face. It was shattered and raw and a look that took his breath away when she refused to look at him. He shouldn’t have said it like that and he knows that. What choice did he have though! Jisung wouldn’t stop pushing and he needed him to stop. Just his luck that when he lets his words twist she was right around the corner.
Lying there for what feels like another hour he spares a glance to the clock. The red font taunts him with 3:28. Huffing he throws the blankets off, if he isn’t going to sleep he might as well be productive. Grabbing his hoodie he makes his way to the kitchen. Trying to silently get water before deciding his next move. Just a few hours ago he and Jisung were fighting in here.
He wants to respect Jisung’s space, he knows he should leave him alone until he wakes up in the morning and can apologize better. But if Jisung wakes up and sees another apology maybe that will make his in person apology a little easier… Seeing nobody protest the idea he grabs his phone and opens his messages.
Feeling only slightly better now that he has had some sort of conversation with Jisung he heads back to this room. This time when his head hits the pillow he is only fighting sleep for a few minutes before finally drifting into slumber.
Too soon he is jolting awake images of y/n’s face still haunting his mind. How he wishes his sleep had of been dreamless like it usually is. But no, he got to experience his worst moment on repeat analyzing her features over and over. Surely it’s just a guilty conscience. He bashed her for his own issues. Once he apologizes things can go back to normal. They can avoid each other and pretend like the last couple weeks never happened. How hard could it be. She was everywhere after all. He will go up to her next time he sees her and apologize. Explain the misunderstanding and then he can put his focus back on the winter showcase.
Thursday -
“She’s vanished. How is it that she was everywhere. It felt like every time I turned around she was somewhere nearby. Jisung how am I supposed to apologize if she is suddenly a ghost?”
"Maybe you should make an effort to find her rather than assuming you'll see her somewhere?"
"How was I supposed to know she'd fall off the face of the Earth?" Jisung has been extremely unhelpful in his pursuit, if you could call it that, to apologize. Which he did warn him that he wasn't getting in the middle.
Jisung slurping on his coffee gave Minho an idea. "Hey, is she still bringing you coffee? What if you happened to let it slip where you were earlier before this and then I can pick it up for you tomorrow." Suddenly all the noise ceases.
"Min, what part of I'm not getting involved did you miss? Not only do you want me to betray her trust but then you want to ambush her when she would be expecting me… Are you dumb?"
"Ok well you don't have to be mean about it."
"No seriously, if I were to do that she would become the absent partner you feared I was going to have. I'm sorry Min but I meant it when I said I wasn't helping. If you want to conspire talk to Seungmin or Jeongin but keep me out of it."
"And give Seungmin the satisfaction of needing his help… absolutely not! It's only been a few days I'm sure it won't be too much longer before I see her around."
"Whatever, can we please focus on what we're actually here to study. I am freaking out about my music history test."
"Yes focusing!"
Which was a lie. Minho spent the next forty minutes staring at the same page on his screen. He just needed to wait and he would cross paths with you, apologize, and then everything would go back to normal. The pit in his chest would go away when the guilt subsided.
“I’m gonna walk back try and try to clear my head. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” He doesn’t give Jisung much time to respond before he’s packed up and out the door. When he steps out he fills his lungs with fresh air. The tightening of his chest slightly loosens, he knows what is going to help so he orients himself towards the studio.
About halfway there he hears it. A laugh that stops him in his tracks. He's heard it before, this could be his opportunity. When he searches the area though he can't find you. He takes a detour in the direction of the noise. He feels it echoing in his mind. Only the thought of seeing you fueling his actions. Across the yard he spots you, sitting on a bench with your back facing him. His steps rush as he heads your direction.
"y/n?" He puts his hand out and grabs your shoulder. When you turn though he's confused. He is met with a confused looking woman looking back and forth between him and his outstretched hand and her friends.
"I think you've got me confused with someone else sorry." She takes a few steps back and resumes talking.
"Yeah… sorry to interrupt"
It doesn't make sense, he knows he heard you, so where did you go?
He's filled with the urgent need to get somewhere comfortable and safe. Thankfully he knows the route to the studio by heart and before he can fall too deep into his head he finds himself there.
The thoughts dragging him down fall off of him while he dances the hours away. By the time he collapses and considers calling it a day everything feels lighter. Dread no longer pressing against every thought fighting to get in and take over his mind.
Moving on autopilot he packs up his bags and closes the studio down. On his way out he sees someone he recognizes and is sure about it this time. While he might now have found you this just might be the quickest way to find you.
"Hey K wait for a second!" He jogs over to where the other boy now stands frozen in place. When he gets a few steps away he speaks again, "You're friends with y/n right?" He knows it's the wrong thing to say as soon as it leaves his mouth. The way the boy in front of him reacts to your name giving away how much he underestimated your friendship.
K turns slowly so he is facing Minho. A chill runs down his spine when their eyes meet. It's clear K is holding back something from the intense glare being shot.
"Yeah I do, which is why I know that you really don't want to have this conversation with me right now." Minho's eyes drop and he notices K's fist clenching and white knuckling his bag.
"Yeah, it's actually about that… I wanted to try and talk to her and apologize. I said some hurtful things and it wasn't really about her. I have a lot going on right now and Ji was pushing too much and-"
"What did you say?"
"What?"
"That night, what did you say about her?"
"She didn't tell you?"
"No she didn't. Which tells me that it was bad. So tell me what you said."
"I mean I don't really remember specifically…" K turns to leave clearly done with the conversation. Minho is stuck there not knowing what to do. Weighing trying to find you himself or beg for K's help. Neither seems like it's going to get him anywhere. K is about to reach the door and he can't stop the words from blurting out. "WAIT! I know I said something along the lines of her being clingy and that her being everywhere was too much…. or something like that."
If he thought K was mad earlier the way he strode back to him was downright rage. Managing to stop with a few steps separating them K was breathing intensely and staring at him like he was the worst person roaming the planet. And he kinda felt like he was in that moment.
"You said what?"
"I-"
"no no I heard you and for your safety please don't repeat it."
Silence sits between them for a few second so he takes the pause as his opening and dares to speak again, "I just want to know if she's ok."
"Is she ok?" The sound coming out of K could be considered a laugh but there was no lightness to it. "I am going to give you some information that at this point you don't really deserve. Y/n is one of the most compassionate and tenderhearted individuals I've met. She cares and feels deeply. The y/n that you see, the loud, energetic, chaotic, and even slightly unhinged person that you see took a lot of time to create. Somehow despite barely knowing her you managed to say the exact words that hurt her the most."
"I didn't know she was there."
"Is that supposed to make it better? Do you even realize how much she wanted to be your friend? Did she have her own way to go about it yeah, but she was always trying to respect your boundaries in the process. She may seem like a lot, but she is one a loyal friend who would go to any lengths to make sure the people she cares about are taken care of."
He can see tears forming in K's eyes and he's sure that's why he stopped his words for a moment. Trying to collect himself before continuing.
"You never tried to get to know her and think you can make comments like that? She has worked so hard for years to get to where she is now. If it were up to me you would never lay eyes on her again. You definitely don't deserve to." He tilts his head back looking up to the ceiling. Taking in a deep breath, holding it, before finally releasing it and looking back to him.
"But it's not up to me. and since she didn't tell me what you said I'm sure somewhere deep down she wants to give you another chance."
This confuses him. "Why would she?"
"Beats me, clearly she must have seen something worthwhile in you. and like I said she cares a lot about people. So if she does decide to give you the time of day again you better earn it and never make her feel this way again. The ONLY reason you're walking away without a couple bruises is because of her."
K doesn't let him say anything else. He grabs his bag and walks out the door.
Minho spends the walk back home replaying the conversation in his head. The way K talked about you was intense. It reminded him of how he defended Jisung last year. Maybe he had been wrong. It seemed that way with everything he learned. By the time he made it home he knew what he had to do.
Jisung's attention shifted to the front door when he walked inside. His eyes analyzing him top to bottom making sure he's ok. "You're back later than I thought you'd be."
"Yeah sorry I meant to text but time got away from me. It's been an enlightening evening."
"I don't like the look you're giving right now. I've seen it before. That's your determined plotting face. Please don't cause me any problems Min!!"
He laughs at Jisung's words. They really did know each other too well. "I promise you Ji I won't cause too many issues." He heads straight upstairs to his room to start planning his next moves. If you weren't going to show up, he would have to find you himself.
✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*
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Not you blessing us this early? So excited to read this later today 🙌
keeping secrets
pairing: han jisung x reader (fem)
warnings: perv!jisung, edging, sexual activities (MDNI), no protection (b smart), dry humping, “just the tip” is a real sentence jisung says, creampie, dacryphilia, threat of getting caught
summary: chan is your big brother, jisung is his best friend. jisung is also the guy gooning over you every time he’s in your home.
han jisung is always in your fucking house.
does he even have parents? a bed of his own? you honestly aren’t sure. it’s not like you could ask if you wanted to, because even though han jisung is always in your fucking house- he’s also always with your older brother.
“y/n, did you eat the last of mom’s leftovers?”
“no.”
“are you lying?”
“she looks like she’s lying, hyung. looks guilty.”
you roll your eyes, feeling the weight of annoyance spiking at a level only your brother and his best friend could conjure in your soul as you glance sideways at them. if your popcorn would just turn a little faster in the microwave, you could escape them so much quicker.
han jisung is the type of person that makes you question how he got there in the first place. you don’t remember meeting him, don’t remember your first impression or the first conversation you had. it’s like he’s just always been there, attached to chan’s hip and eating all the snacks in your parents’ pantry. chan treats jisung like the brother he never had, and in return jisung treats you like he’s the second brother you never asked for.
it really irks you- how he is always in your space, long legs taking up all the room on the couch, loud laughter and clapping hands carrying from chan’s room to your own across the hall. chan is irritating at times, as any sibling is, but jisung is irritating in entirely different ways.
example one: chan had always been a year above you in school. you never got to introduce yourself to your teachers, because they already knew you as chan’s little sister. he was the football captain, and the class president, and participated in so many extracurricular activities you felt your own head grow heavy at the thought of his daily schedule. everyone knew him, and everyone knew jisung- because jisung was always beside him.
jisung was co-captain, he was vice president, he was in every single club chan was. they both swear they never planned it, the same way they never planned to make you the world’s most lonely teenager ever. because no high school boy wants to mess with chan’s little sister- and the ones that were brave enough to try, dealt with jisung.
jisung, who threw his arm around you every time he saw you talking to a boy by the lockers. jisung, who turned down every date you were asked on before you could even open your mouth. han fucking jisung, who-
“so, you know your friend with the curly hair?” jisung speaks up, standing way too close, leaning his elbows against the counter beside you while you zone out to the hum of the microwave. your popcorn just started popping.
you glance at him sideways, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “yes, i’m aware of her. you know, since she’s my friend and all. ”
jisung hums, biting into his pink bottom lip and looking up at you from his slouched, lazy posture. looking entirely too cocky, way too sure of himself. you blink, looking away before that mental image can get stuck in your head.
“is she single?” he asks, ignoring your scoff of discontent. when you don’t respond he follows up with a whine, drawn out and scratching at your eardrums. “come on- i’m asking for a friend!”
“what friend?” you shoot back, a little incredulous. “chan is the only friend you have!”
han fucking jisung- who is still the devil on your shoulder, even now.
chan graduated college last year. he moved back home, moved back in with your parents until he could find a place in the city- and you couldn’t even pretend to be shocked when jisung decided to move back home too. then, it was your turn to graduate college. and it was only a little embarrassing to fold all of your clothes into your childhood dresser three months ago, feeling better knowing that chan was in the exact same boat.
now it feels like you never moved out. because you still live in your parents’ house with your brother and jisung is still torturing you with his presence.
what makes everything about a billion times worse is that jisung got ripped while he was away at college. it’s obvious chan dragged him to the gym often, the muscled biceps underneath his tight black t shirt flexing with every move he makes. he isn’t some scrawny boy who wears hoodies that swallow him anymore- now he’s… grown up. taller, bigger, but still a pain in your neck. now, the added irritation of all of your friends commenting on how hot your brother’s best friend is just adds more insult to injury.
so, that’s how it goes. you wake up every morning, have your first cup of coffee in peace, and let your mind wander without a path to follow. with your parents gone most of the time, enjoying each other’s company now that they (in theory) have an empty nest, there’s no one around to tell you not to use the good mugs- whatever that means- and there’s no one to break the quiet comfort of silence in the mornings.
that is, until jisung knocks on your front door.
chan is never awake in time to answer, so it’s your duty to be the designated greeting card. you know it’s jisung, because it’s always jisung; when you open the door it’s with a loud groan, as if your peace has been shattered into tiny little shards of what once was. really, it has.
“good morning to you too, gorgeous.” jisung hums, even throws in a wink when he squeezes past you to enter the space. as if he lives there, too.
“chan isn’t awake,” you mumble as you always do, running a hand through your hair and sipping your coffee. it scalds your tongue, still way too hot, but it’s a better alternative to whatever jisung wants to ramble about today.
“oh! i actually meant to tell you- guess who i saw yesterday?” jisung is grinning, sharp white teeth on display. you fight a cold chill that makes you want to shiver, crossing your arms under your chest as you blankly look back at him.
“please tell me who you saw yesterday, i’m on the edge of my seat,” you drawl lazily, monotoned. jisung chuckles as if he is winning an impromptu standoff, as if he’s never lost anything in his life. suddenly, you feel the spike of nerves in your stomach. jisung is always bad to be around, but he’s hellish when he has a secret he knows you want to know.
“i saw lee felix,” he hums out, grinning wider, eyes flicking down your body in slow motion, as if he wants to take the time to savor your reaction and watch the twitch in your fingertips.
you try not to react- you really try. but the flush you feel warming your cheeks and the furrow in your brow can’t be hidden. once again, you’re irate because of han jisung. naturally.
“you mean the guy you lied to about me not being single junior year of high school?” you huff, biting your cheek to stop your anger from slipping into your tone. jisung looks like he is entirely too pleased with himself. “the guy you didn’t correct when he assumed you and i were together? the guy i had a major crush on?”
jisung hums an affirmative sound, resting against the back of the couch behind him, mimicking the cross of your arms with his own muscular ones. you feel your grip tighten on your mug.
“exactly! and you know what he asked me?” jisung raises an eyebrow, tongue pressed between rows of pearly white teeth peeking out of his mouth. you feel the sudden intrusive thought to throw your scalding coffee at him, wipe the cocksure grin from the corners of his lips.
through gritted teeth you decide to humor him. “what did lee felix ask you, jisung?”
and his grin turns sharper- eyes narrowing, pushing off the back of the couch to step an inch closer to you. you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches in your chest, hope he can’t hear the way your heartbeat is loud in your ears. you have to look up to meet his eye, trapped between his muscled chest and the wall behind you.
“he asked me if you were as good of a fuck as he imagined you to be.”
tv static is taking up all of the space in your head that usually holds your wit, your sharp tongue dulled under the all-encompassing heat in jisung’s stare. if you had any thoughts to spare, you would be asking yourself what the hell is happening. because this isn’t the usual, annoying and protective act you were used to jisung pulling. this isn’t the same as him telling every boy you’ve ever met that he bites- jisung is looking down at you with an intensity behind his dark brown baby doe eyes that makes him look less like prey, more like the thing doing the hunting.
you have to ask yourself, what the hell is wrong with me? because even after all these years of jisung being the thing haunting your every waking moment, your thighs still clench together when he pushes closer. you still feel the way your eyes fight not to flutter closed when his cologne hits your nose, something that smells like roses and petrichor. you feel the pulse of want curl into the base of your stomach, thinking his hands look so much bigger now, wrapped around vein-ridden biceps with crossed arms, thinking about all the ways his hands could engulf you-
jisung is pulling away quickly, and by the time you complete a series of blinks he is leaning against the couch again, phone in hand, casual as ever. you’re about to ask him if you had experienced a hallucination, mouth open but brain not quite working yet, when you hear it: footsteps, slow and dragging down the hall upstairs.
chan comes down the stairs groggy, eyes half closed and curly hair sticking up all over his head. he’s scratching his chest, yawning and barely glancing at your disheveled state before hitting jisung lightly on the arm to get his attention.
“hey man, you still staying here tonight?” chan asks, already retreating back up the steps with jisung tailing him, feet softly thumping the staircase.
“yeah, if that’s cool. dad is having a poker game tonight, he’ll force me to play with his buddies and lose all my money.” you hear the echo of jisung’s chuckle, but you don’t process the words. your brain is still on loop, repeating jisung is staying here tonight over and over again uselessly.
jisung has stayed the night with chan countless times. like previously mentioned, you’re not convinced he even has a house of his own. jisung waking up and descending the stairs of your home is just as normal of an occurrence as chan being here. but-
but. your body is still hot. your thighs are still clenching, as if to get a hold on your bodily reaction to him being as close as he was. he didn’t even do anything- just pushed hot air from his lips, let it hit your neck, just leaned in far too close.
and it’s not like you’re some blushing, virgin mary. your body count isn’t in double digits, but it’s more than one. you like to tease and flirt and let people stutter through trying to do the same in return. you like it when people fawn over you, biting their lips nervously and ducking their head down when they ask you out. so what about the situation that occurred less than five minutes ago made you have such a violent, embarrassing reaction?
you shake your head, using the excuse that it’s just… ovulation. probably. never mind the fact that your period isn’t due for another three weeks, it has to be some weird bodily hormone that makes you feel like opening your legs wide and begging- whatever.
you focus on carrying on as normal, business as usual. you video chat with your best friend, listening to him complain about an art critic who reviewed his favorite piece at the local gallery and totally missed the point. you shower, apply your favorite skin care routine and braid your hair, anything to keep your mind pleasantly busy. anything to keep you from gritting your teeth when you hear the loud claps of laughter from the other side of the hall.
your bed seems so much more comfortable than usual, letting your body sink into the mattress with a sigh of relief. it’s a couple hours earlier than you would usually go to sleep, but the events of this morning made you run circles in your head that exhausted you. so with the moon still rising and the sky just turning completely dark, you close your eyes and try not to think.
and of course, han jisung doesn’t let you know peace. even in your dreams, your mind replays the way he never quite touched you this morning. your mind wanders to thoughts of what it would have felt like if he had- if he had gripped your waist with one large hand, warm palm running up and down your ribs in a faux gesture of innocent intent. would he lure you in gently, like a cat waiting for the right moment to descend with fangs? or would he be mean from the start, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth just to hear the way you whine and see how fast your skin breaks?
the thoughts manifest as visions, dreams of honey skin and a heart shaped mouth. then you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly, and that doesn’t feel like a vision at all. it feels real, so real you flutter your eyes open with a squint of confusion.
“hey- there you are,” a low voice, sleep-ridden and scratched, murmurs from above. you swallow the whine trapped in your throat from left over sleep, blinking up to see… han jisung. as if you conjured him from your dreams. of course.
“you were talking in your sleep,” he says next, chuckling after. “nightmare?”
you shake your head, waking up more and more. jisung’s hand is still pressed lightly to your bare shoulder, warm and engulfing. his fingertip rests under your tank top strap.
“wasn’t a nightmare,” you mumble, watching him shift to squat next to you, eye-level. “what are you doing up?”
“bathroom,” he shrugs. “heard you on my way back to chan’s room.”
then jisung is looking at you- really looking, taking in the position your body is in and the flush on your cheeks. the blanket is only covering you from the waist down, too warm in your room to have it up any further. when jisung’s eyes flit down to where your legs are hugging one of your pillows, his head tilts to the side.
“not a nightmare, hm?” he murmurs, phrasing the question in a way that doesn’t want a response. his hand trails down your arm, making you fight off a shiver when his fingers grip the blanket at your waist lightly. “you know, this pillow between your legs is all rumpled up. were you using it?”
then you feel the blanket move down, slowly revealing your hip and the exposed skin of your thigh. you vaguely register that you aren’t wearing pants, too hot to bother with anything more than the underwear clinging to your skin. and jisung is taking in a breath, hitched and amused like he just confirmed his own suspicion. when you glance down you can’t see much, but the moonlight filtering through your window highlights the dark patch of cloth amongst your clean pillow case- right where you suppose you were grinding into it, right where your pussy is clenching at having been caught.
“you know, i only came in here because i thought i heard you say my name,” jisung is grinning. he pulls the blanket further down your thighs, off of your legs, and rakes his gaze back up to your eyes. despite the warmth of your room, you shiver. “were you saying my name, baby?”
baby, baby, baby- playing on loop in his low, scratchy voice. jisung has never called you that, has never looked at you with so much unabashed desire. and his hand moves again, gripping your hipbone in a way that’s almost soft, fingers digging into the space around your hip like he wants to carve out its shape.
“i wasn’t-“ you whisper, shaking your head like you could possibly deny what he so clearly heard. jisung grins like that’s exactly what he wanted you to say.
“oh, you weren’t saying my name?” he hums, brow raised, fingers digging into you just an inch harder. “so i didn’t hear sungie, need you, need your co-“
he’s whining and moaning loud enough to make you panic, hand slapping over his mouth to shut him up. you feel your breath stutter when he doesn’t put up a fight, just looks at you from behind your own hand. you listen for the telltale thump of chan’s feet, but the house outside of your room is silent. jisung wraps his fingers around your wrist, engulfing it, and pulls you away. not far- your hand is resting on his jaw now, only moving you enough so he can speak.
“he’s asleep, you know?” jisung bites into his lip, head tilting back towards the door. you scoff and pull your wrist out of his grip.
“and what are you going to say when he wakes up and comes looking for you? when he finds you in his little sister’s room trying to- seduce her?” you hiss, flustered at the situation. all you get in return is a raised brow and the amused quirk of jisung’s lips.
“come on, baby. you know better than anyone how deep he sleeps. the house could be set on fire and he wouldn’t wake up until the flames hit his foot.”
you don’t have a rebuttal this time. you know jisung has a point, but it’s still so, so wrong. jisung is chan’s best friend, if he ever found out you would both be six feet under. chan would never speak to either of you ever again.
but jisung is right in front of you. he is standing to his feet slowly, like he is afraid to move too quickly and scare the small, feral animal in front of him. your breath hitches sharply when he turns your body, hands guiding you until you’re laying on your back and he can crawl onto the bed. his knees land between your legs, your body responding and legs spreading open even as you think of all of the horrible ways you could be caught.
jisung lets out a long, slow exhale from his parted lips as he looks down at you. your tank top has rumpled up in your sleep, laying right above your stomach, and the hand that lays on your ribs feels so big in comparison. you bite your lip as his hand travels lower, dipping under the waistline of your soaked panties to pull and tug upwards at the material.
jisung groans, “god- you’re so fucking pretty, baby. it’s not fair.”
“what’s not fair?” you mumble, half-dazed and fighting a whine at the way the material of your underwear slides against your sensitive clit.
“you get to walk around like this all the time,” jisung whispers, gaze never leaving your pussy- like he doesn’t want to miss a single twitch of your hips. “and i have to pretend i don’t think about how tight this little cunt would be wrapped around my cock.”
the whine that leaves your lips is one of pure desperation, making your hand slap over your mouth to avoid being heard. jisung flicks his eyes toward the head of the bed, gaze meeting yours, as he tilts his head to the side.
“you like that, rockstar?” jisung asks in a quiet hum, palming his bulge over his sweatpants. he uses his other hand to tease your clit over your thin panties, thumb rubbing over the bundle of nerves ever so lightly. “like when i tell you what you do to me? what i think about when im sleeping in the next room over?”
you nod, bordering on desperate as your hips kick up. jisung groans under his breath, bringing his now slick thumb to his lips and sucking at the digit. then a sigh leaves his mouth, hands moving to pull at the hem of his pajamas.
“can’t fuck you tonight, sweet girl.” he mumbles, leaving you to decide if you want to scoff or cry at the denial. “you’re already so loud, you’ll be screaming if i stick it in. but we can still have fun, yeah? i’ll make you feel good, baby. don’t worry.”
jisung barely gives time for your foggy brain to process the words, sliding his sweats and underwear down to mid thigh and leaving you to gape at his hard cock like a woman starved. jisung is, like, ridiculously big. how did he manage to hide that with all those baggy hoodies? you feel your pussy throb and clench at the mere thought of feeling him stretch you open.
and jisung doesn’t stop- he brings himself closer, spreads your legs so they are wide open and lifted to your chest. one large hand is pressed to the back of your thigh, holding you open, while the other gives lazy attention to his glistening length.
“sung, please-“ you whisper, feeling hot all over and almost possessed. you need him, bad. jisung knows that, too. he knows and all he does to placate you is grin out of the corner of his mouth and grind his hips in a slow, dirty roll forward.
the feeling of his cock, hard and pulsing against your dripping slit with only the dainty fabric of your sheer underwear to separate you, makes you tip your head back in a helpless whimper. he keeps going, grinding his length forward in lazy rolls of his hips, the head of his cock pushing against your clit in a way that makes your head spin. you’re already soaked, panties dripping wet to aid in the glide of jisung’s length, and you can’t help the little gasps leaving your mouth as your hips buck forward.
“ah- yeah baby, just like that,” jisung pants, one arm resting by your head while the other keeps your thigh held up. he grinds into you faster, matching the stuttered pace of your own hips as he bends down to lay messy, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. “keep moving those hips, rockstar. making me feel so good.”
you whimper softly, near pathetic, as your head tilts to the side to give jisung more access to your neck. his mouth moves constantly, licking and biting at the skin with a reckless sort of desperation. he’s wet, too- you can feel the precum dripping from his tip smear against your panties, soaking through to your clit with the rest of the mess you’ve made.
“sung, please- want more,” you whine out, arms wrapping around his neck and nails clawing at his shoulders. he curses, hips bucking harder before he pulls away slightly to look at you.
and you’re a mess. panting for breath, tank top tucked up to rest just under your tits, face and neck flushed, underwear clinging to your soaked cunt and throbbing with need. jisung bites his lip harshly, causing a white indent on the flesh. when he gives his length a slick pump, the sound makes you both whine.
“shit, okay. can’t fuck you but- just a little more,” he’s breathing out, sliding your ruined panties to the side. he groans at the sight, your pussy glistening in the low light as he uses his thumbs to spread you open. you can’t help but clench as his eyes land on your needy hole, moaning a little too loud when long, deft fingers dip inside of you just slightly.
“baby, rockstar-“ jisung is huffing against your ear, fingertips barely pushing in and out of your entrance. “you’re soaked. do you always get this wet, or do you just like me that much, hm?”
you can’t help the whine that leaves you, feeling so on edge but not getting enough stimulation to push you over, embarrassed at the thought of jisung knowing just how much he affects you. “just for you, ji. no one else.”
a moan from above, soft and airy, followed by an equally soft, “good fucking girl.”
jisung’s fingers flit over you, grazing your throbbing clit before lining his leaking cock back up. the feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin, his slick length nudging your clit and the wet sounds of each roll of your hips makes your whines grow an octave higher. jisung is there to tease you, as always. leaning back into your space, panting into you ear as his length throbs on your pussy, up and down and up and down.
“gotta be quiet rockstar, remember? wouldn’t wanna wake channie-hyung up, would you?”
you remember the situation you’re in with startling clarity. chan, your older brother, in the next room over. jisung, his best friend, sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night and finding you a pathetic, needy mess. somehow, the idea of being caught like this, with jisung over you and his length sliding between your slit, makes you feel that much closer.
“god, please i-“ you break off your begging to moan when the tip of jisung’s cock catches against your entrance- not entering you, but so close. “need you, ji. need you to fuck me, please-“
“shh, sh, sh, baby. how am i supposed to fuck you like this, hm? already so wet, fuck- i’d bust as soon as i stretched you open on it.”
you feel tears build up in your eyes at being denied again, hole clenching at the empty feeling even though you feel so good from the stimulation his hips provide. your clit is hyper-sensitive, every press and push against it making your thighs twitch and shake more. you don’t realize the tears have spilled from your lash line until you feel jisung’s tongue, hot and so wet, sliding against your cheek to clean you up.
“oh, what am i gonna do with you?” jisung is whispering, almost to himself, shuddering into your skin. “fine, shit- okay. just the tip, alright?”
you blink through the daze in your mind, giving jisung a look that attempts a blank stare. “did you learn that from porn, sungie?”
he responds with a scoff, an incredulous raise of his brows. “i mean it! just the tip, baby. no more, wanna hear you scream properly the first time i sink all the way into you.”
oh. yeah, okay.
you feel heat roll through your body, jisung not even moving away from kissing your cheeks and neck as he lines his hard cock up with your entrance, running the tip of his length up and down your slit. finally, finally, pushing inside.
jisung feels huge inside you- after being teased relentlessly for what felt like hours, his cock finally stretching your walls open felt like heaven. but as he said, he thrusts only the tip inside.
“ngh- god, rockstar. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock,” jisung is whining, panting against your collarbone. “so tight, trying to suck me in all the way.”
all you can do is muffle your moans against jisung’s shoulder, nails digging into the skin of his lower back where his shirt has ridden up and legs wrapping around his narrow hips. you can feel the ridges on his length, the head of it pressing into you just barely past your entrance before pulling out again. it’s so much, it’s not enough- at this rate you feel the urge to flip positions and push yourself so far down on jisung’s cock you can feel it in your stomach. but your body is useless, thighs trembling from the continued barely-there stimulation, and jisung is murmuring against your ear again.
“wanna know what i said to felix, baby?” he’s asking with a sharp inhale, remembering your conversation from earlier. you’re tempted to scream, tell him you don’t care what he said to felix, you don’t care about felix- or anyone else, for that matter. all you can think about is jisung, jisung, jisung, and the way he could be filling you up so deliciously right now if he would just go a little bit further.
instead, you speak around the whine in your throat. “what?”
jisung fights to keeps his words steady in between little aborted grinds of his hips, fat head of his cock pushing inside you again and again. his hands wandering to your hips, squeezing fingers hard enough to leave indented bruises in their wake.
“he asked me what you felt like, if you were a good- fuck. and i said,” a moan, burying his head in your neck and muffling his words just barely. “said you were the best fuck of my life, rockstar. shit- so tight, so hot- swallowing my cock like this little pussy is starving for it. told him- all he could do was fist his dick and imagine it, you know why?”
jisung pauses the small, fast thrust of his hips. you can’t breathe, can only feel the head of his cock resting at your entrance, barely inside, spreading your folds open. you throb, clenching around the small amount of his length inside you, and his exhale is stuttered before he finishes rambling.
“‘cause you’re mine to fuck, baby. and i’m the only one that gets to make you cry like this.”
there’s a large palm pressing over your mouth as jisung buries his head in the side of your neck, muffling his own long, drawn out groan as he pushes his thick cock inside you- all the fucking way. the hand at your lips barely offers reprieve when you scream, eyes clenching shut at the feeling of finally being so full and stretched open around jisung’s length. delirious, you think you can feel the bulge of it in your lower stomach.
jisung can’t control his hips anymore, biting the skin where your shoulder and neck meet to keep himself somewhat muffled as he snaps in and out of you at a rapid pace, never leaving your soaked pussy more than halfway. your legs are barely holding onto jisung’s hips, ankles weakly hooked at his back, and you pant harshly into the hand around your mouth.
“so, fucking, good-“ jisung moans by your ear, voice low and gravelly and dripping with that same desperate need you feel clawing up your spine. it’s almost too much- the all encompassing stimulation you get to have so suddenly after being teased with the lightest touches for so long. jisung does what he does best, and he makes matters so much worse.
deft fingers reach your clit, throbbing and sensitive to any touch. the response is immediate, lightning curling your toes and making you yelp into the palm over your mouth. jisung chuckles, half breathless and half manic, continuing to ramble on in your ear.
“that’s right rockstar, just keep shaking,” he moans, fingers circling your clit in fast little figure eights. you feel the spark of pleasure in your gut grow bolder, louder, and know you’re close. jisung must know too, you can feel his teeth against your neck as he keeps his pace, hips slamming into you, fingers working you over until your eyes are rolling back and stars are dotting your vision.
the moan that leaves your mouth would surely be loud enough to wake chan up if not for jisung’s hand muffling it. he curses quick, hips stuttering before he’s cumming too- inside you, filling your cunt up in a way that makes you shiver through the last of your own orgasm. jisung thrusts again, riding out his high in a slower, syrupy grind, before he pulls out with one last sigh.
you can feel his release leaking out of your spent pussy, whimpering as the warm air hits your soaked core. jisung moans softly, almost pitifully, thumb running through the mess leaking out of you and smearing it along your slit. then, he has the audacity to pull your panties back into place over the mess. with a quick pat to your ruined underwear and a kiss to your forehead he stands.
the wink he throws you is absurdly nerdy, using both eyes to do so. you roll your eyes but can’t help the fond smile on your face as he pulls the blanket back over you.
“sweet dreams, rockstar.” he whispers, kissing your lips once more and sinking his teeth into the lower one in a tease. you pout as he walks away, looking back at you once more to give a wide grin before dipping out of the room. you hear the soft close of chan’s door before you drift off again, body spent but mind quiet and a small, content smile gracing your lips.
when you wake up, it is to aching muscles and a content, quiet buzz in your head. you stretch, groaning at the sheer amount of bones that pop in your body, before getting up and getting ready for the day. blushing, you remember the messy state your body was left in, showering to get rid of the worst of it. the bruises on your hips and collarbone won’t wash away, but you smile at them before covering them up. you hope they never fade.
downstairs, the house is alive with the sound of two deep voices. you must have slept longer than anticipated, for once waking up after chan. you descend the stairs with your heart beating in your throat, nervous and hoping chan doesn’t immediately clock the sinful thoughts in your head.
“y/n! you slept in late,” chan hums, glancing up from the video game he and jisung are in the middle of. jisung doesn’t tear his eyes away from his character on the screen, but there’s a small twitch to his lips that makes your thighs clench just slightly.
“morning,” you mumble, pouring scalding coffee into one of your favorite mugs. you shuffle into the living room, criss-crossing your legs in the armchair to the left of the couch in use. you don’t know who is playing what character, but isabelle is kicking donkey kong’s ass.
once a winner is announced chan sighs, grinning and allowing jisung to tease him for his apparent loss. then chan turns to you, making his best friend do the same, and you fight the flush threatening to announce suspicion.
“by the way, were you having a nightmare last night?” chan asks, you blinking dumbly at him in response. jisung coughs beside him, poorly attempting to hide the snort of laughter that almost bubbled up.
“no. why?” you ask, fighting to remain normal and like the picture of nonchalance. chan shrugs, turning back to the television like he is none the wiser. he switches his character from donkey kong to link. jisung picks a weird red dragon.
“i was half asleep so i could’ve imagined it, i just thought i heard you talking. sounded like a nightmare,” chan says, mostly focused on the start of a new round.
you hum noncommittally, watching jisung’s character hit a fast combo and KO link. while waiting for chan to respawn, jisung catches your eye with a bitten lower lip that hides a cocky, satisfied grin. he clears his throat softly, throwing his hand up to run through messy hair. on the way back to holding his controller, jisung sneaks his hand to the side of his neck and taps the skin there, flicking his gaze down to your own neck.
your breath hitches when you touch the skin there, feeling the faint thrum of pain from a bruise you know is visible. you raise the collar on your shirt to cover it, quickly looking back to the tv when the next round starts.
“you should try to get more sound sleep,” jisung is speaking now, shrugging like he’s just making conversation. you can only watch his slim fingers flit over the buttons on his controller out of the corner of your eye, ears ringing. “they say working up a sweat beforehand helps you sleep like a baby.”
chan nods, barely paying attention to the conversation as he curses under his breath at the game. jisung glances at his best friend, glancing at you after, and winks.
“if you ever need a tip, just let me know, y/n. i always have time to help.”
han fucking jisung will never stop being a problem. that thought doesn’t feel as heinous as it once had.
a/n: hello lovebugs :3 :3
i can’t help it really i can’t the parasites in my brain take over and move my stupid little thumbs in a way that just writes perv hanji without me even knowing until i see the finished product in my drafts i swear
as always,, requests are open!! i promise i will eventually post the requests that are pending… i just have a worm in my noggin, as previously mentioned
☆ taglist ☆
@pineapple-in-a-burgah , @breakmeoff , @dollce-exe , @kwomikailea , @emkvlixsx , @bahngarang
bonus chapter: "room for two" (just a phase) bill's pov
LONG HAIR & TATTOOS
CHAPTER DIRECTORY
SUMMARY: Charlie's provocations has Bill thinking he should've approached things differently with you. (1.6k words)
A/N: I'm sorry!! writing anything is the only way to get me writing consistently again.
ROOM FOR TWO
Sunday roast at the Burrow in the summer was the place to be.
The atmosphere was just different. It was more of a party if anything. Conversations and beer flowed sweetly under the sun. There was Quidditch to be had if enough people were up for it. Bill always was; it worked up a voracious appetite for dinner. Neighbours within a mile radius were invited to join and there was never a quiet moment. It was something that Bill missed most, so he always tried to keep his Sundays free.
He’d been home for a couple months now, so his attendance was nothing special. But Charlie. Charlie’s rare appearance was going to cause an absolute ruckus.
“Mum was in a right state when you showed up,” Bill remarked, walking away with Charlie to a quieter corner of the gardens. He felt a pang of regret as he trailed further away from where you were sitting with his siblings and friends. He hadn’t said much to you because he didn’t know if he should. Your parents weren’t in sight so there was no need to act like a couple. “You better ease her in gently next time, she’s not getting younger.”
Charlie brushed the advice off. “Oh, she’ll be fine. She likes being surprised.”
“Are you still seeing”—Bill paused, trying to think of who Charlie was telling him about the last time he was here—“Suzy?”
“You mean Lisette?” Charlie smiled. “Your memory’s going, Bill. It’s a pattern now, I’m concerned.”
Bill could only chuckle. “It’s you with the pattern. I wrote it all down and reviewed it before I came. It was only two months ago that you told me.” He swished his drink. “So, Lisette. How’s it going?”
From the corner of Bill’s eye, he saw Fred snake his arm around you. You giggled when he popped a piece of cheese in your mouth a little too roughly. Nothing malicious, Bill knew that much. His younger brother was touch-feely with no comprehension of boundaries. But he reckoned a friendship of over ten years would merit some looser boundaries. And even if there were something between the two of you, who was he to have an opinion?
“Fine.” Charlie shifted from one leg to the other. “Not happy I’m here, I reckon she wanted to spend the weekend together, but I said I hadn’t seen you or mum in so long and”—he paused, then shifted the the questions back to Bill—“but what about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
A classic Charlie redirect. Unlike Bill, Charlie kept a lot of details close to his heart. It made him wildly unpredictable. Some women liked that, Bill supposed. Despite being brothers for almost their whole lives, Bill still didn’t know if Charlie just didn’t like sharing, or if he didn’t want to appear vulnerable when he laid his heart out.
Bill shook his head. He didn’t have quite a fast and colourful history.
“Who’s that?” Charlie nudged Bill and cocked his head towards you.
Behind inquisitive eyes, Bill had to pretend he hadn’t been looking at you. Was this confused expression convincing enough for Charlie? he’d wondered. He’d be remiss if he didn’t soak you in today. Dressed in a plain white-tee over a slip skirt and your hair half done up, you painted a beautiful image of domesticity. How much he loved that.
Bill played it cool. “It’s your memory that’s going. You know (Y/N). You just said hi to her.”
“No kidding, I know who (Y/N) is. But do you know, know her?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows. “Beyond her name?”
Bill, for some reason, decided still to obfuscate the truth. “We’ve spoken a handful of times.”
“Bullshit,” Charlie proclaimed with an elbow jab to Bill’s side. “She keeps looking over at you.”
“I haven’t noticed.”
You must’ve been looking over when he wasn’t.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Charlie accused with a shake of his head. “I expect more details at Don’s. I always keep a stash of Veritaserum for a reason.”
Bill’s eyes widened. “You’re joking. You know that’s highly illegal.”
“I know that,” Charlie huffed. “But I do expect more than your canned responses.”
Bill took the last sip of his beer and exhaled slightly. A cold beer on a hot day was always such a blessing. “About ready to go?” he asked Charlie.
“You go on,” Charlie urged, tipping his glass that still a quarter-full towards Ginny. “Going to speak to Gin for a second.”
Bill pushed himself off the bench. “Sure thing.”
He didn’t stray too far from Charlie though. He walked to back to the table where you were—or had been sitting, he supposed.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Bill asked Fred, staring at the gap in front of him.
In mock protectiveness and with crossed-arms, Fred responded: “Went in for a glass of water. Why?”
“I just wanted to check in your living situation.”
“Allow me to answer on her behalf,” Fred suggested. “Everything is going swimmingly. We’ve never had more fun than we are now.”
“You cleaned up the space?” Bill honed in. “The last time I was there, it was a travesty.”
“Why do you care so much?” Fred leaned back and turned to face Bill.
“Because I think a good night’s sleep and equal distribution of chores are basic rights,” Bill deflected.
“She’s been reading these weird books,” George added casually. “About child-rearing and domesticity. Mum has the same series on her bookshelf. It’s like the rite of passage for a housewife. One of the books is about—” he kept his voice quiet—“how to better please a husband in the bedroom.”
Bill felt his stomach clench slightly. Why did you need the latter?
“Well, take good care of (Y/N),” was all he said. He’d learned a touch more than he needed.
Bill hadn’t had as much fun as he did at the concert with Charlie in years. He felt ten years younger, and like the weight of time had been lifted from his shoulders. It all started at Don’s covert pub in a cul-de-sac that he and Charlie frequented when they were much, much younger. Don nearly went into cardiac arrest at the sight of Charlie.
Throughout the night, Bill had drank past a comfortable threshold and it was when head felt like it was going to split that he was truly haunted by the ghosts of his youth.
Back in the kitchen of the Burrow, after Molly’s hushed scolding, Bill rifled the medicine cabinet looking for a draught. He’d invited Charlie to come back to the penthouse, but Charlie refused.
“I shan’t interrupt two lovers’ entwined slumber,” Charlie announced dramatically, pouring himself a glass of water in the kitchen. “You head on home, I’m staying here.”
“It’s just me,” Bill quickly clarified.
Charlie almost spat out his water. “That poor girl. You put her in a room between Fred and George? And she’s still all right in the head?” He whistled. “She’s tougher than I imagined.”
“I didn’t—”
“Go home and call her over,” Charlie suggested with a wink. “I can guarantee it'll be a better time for both of you.”
“You’ve had too much to drink,” Bill chastised.
Charlie shook his head and grinned. “I feel perfectly fine.”
Seeing that Charlie was intent on staying at home, Bill returned to the penthouse alone. He removed his shoes and sauntered in. The lights flickered on automatically the moment he toed an inch past the doorframe. His reflection in the sky-high windows closed in on him the further he walked. He poured himself another cup of water in the kitchen and leaned against the counter as he drank. It was a beautiful and elegant space, but it felt much too large for one person. He wondered what it’d be like if you were here. It wouldn't be the first time; he thought about it often.
‘Bill, fancy a cup of tea?’
You were fiddling with the kettle in a nightgown. After the kettle whistled, you’d hand him a cup, and he’d give you a kiss on the forehead and a compliment.
In the bathroom, Bill brushed his teeth in front of the mirror. There you were again, giggling as you mirrored his every motion.
‘You’re rather meticulous with this, aren’t you?’
Shaking off his visions of you in the kitchen and bathroom, he withdrew to bed.
He slipped into his usual side—left—and ran his fingers on over the empty side. A moment was all that he needed to imagine you there, nuzzling your face in his chest.
‘I had a great day today, darling. Let’s do it again next week.’
It was official. Bill was going mad.
His yearning for another was growing stronger by the minute. Not just anyone though, the fire burned for you specifically. Maybe it had been too long. He thought about the circumstances you were in and shuddered. Flanked by Fred and George night after night? Charlie was right. It was best for both of you that you were here.
He retrieved a piece of parchment and a quill from the drawer. With the light back on and his back against the headboard, he penned a letter to you.
(Y/N),
It dawned upon me that—
He crumbled that piece of parchment. It sounded so stiff.
‘I hope you’ve been well—‘
“Let’s try that again,” Bill murmured. He’d never had so much trouble writing a simple letter.
‘Pleasure to see you today. Just wanted to let you know the penthouse is still yours, should you need some peace of mind.’
He gave it pause. In contemplation of whether to send it or not, he gnawed on his lip a bit too hard. And in that moment of pain, he had a moment of lucidity: this was a stupid, reckless thing to ask. Could he sound more desperate or creepy?
He crumbled the parchment again and tossed it in the rubbish bin.
You set him alight. He had to douse the flames before he was burned by them.
END.
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The yearning 😭
Fred is such a menace, my god? Just throwing that out there to a drunk man who’s clearly head over heels 😂
Bill the moment he started fantasizing about domestic life:
bonus chapter: "small things" matters of matrimony (a mile away) bill's pov
LONG HAIR & TATTOOS
CHAPTER DIRECTORY
REQUEST "Anyways, I loved strawberry wonderland and was interested is seeing more of Bill’s perspective especially during the wedding." "I always wondered what happened between Bill and his ex in long hair & tattoos."
SMALL THINGS
Bill’s face twisted in ironic amusement as he stared at himself in the full-length mirror.
He was currently being fitted for a suit. Not just any suit, but one for a wedding, the one occasion he truly needed pause from. No, he didn’t have anything against weddings or marriage, but his populous lineage extended one too many opportunities to attend.
A bespectacled man on one knee attended to him, his gloved hands skillfully dappling around. Bill felt the measuring tape draping from one end of his body to the other in a rhythmic motion.
He’d been whisked here (against his will) by Lucius Malfoy and the context of it was bizarre. After the victory against your uncle Theo was officially handed to them, Bill stood on the course, leaning against his club and watching your father’s lip quiver. At first, Bill was confused. Was Lucius about to… cry? Then he realised: Lucius was fighting a smile which looked eerily similar to ice trying not to crack under the sun. He’d finally beaten his brother at golf, or ‘just something in life’ as you’d muttered to Bill.
When Lucius approached him, Bill paused all those thoughts. Lucius, however, was not here for an interrogation.
“Do you have a suit for the wedding?” Lucius asked.
Bill’s throat bobbed. “Yes.”
Scary, blue, narrowing eyes. “Come.”
And now here Bill was, being fitted for a suit that was at least a month’s worth of his salary.
He was fortunate Lucius wasn’t much of a talker; he treated Bill like he was invisible since they left the course. “A suit, please,” was all he had to utter upon entry into the boutique to have the tailor oblige happily. Lucius then retired to a leather chair in the corner to nurse his liquor. Bill doubted Lucius would have much to say after either. And honestly, he couldn’t have asked for better. Your relationship was easier to lie about when you were present because you bounced off each other perfectly. Too perfectly, if he could say that. Though Bill supposed he’d had enough experiences with protective fathers to stand his own ground to come up with simple, palatable answers.
“This will look exquisite on you,” the tailor complimented. “Your tall and svelte frame lends well to this piece.”
Pleased with his work, he stepped back. “My assistant will make the proper adjustments. Would you fancy a drink in the meantime, Mr. Weasley?”
Bill’s face lit up in sheer amusement as stared at you from across the table. You’d broken off from your assigned table after dinner and headed towards the bar instead. Enshrined in the crystalline interior of reception venue, he listened to you speak. Admittedly, he was slightly distracted by the sheer opulence of it all; from the dramatic sloping cliffs with low waves kissing the rocks to the tall cypress trees circling the altar.
His family weddings took place primarily in the farmlands and the adjoining gardens. He was always one misstep away from brushing up against a pig in a nearby pen. But it was cozy, joyous and so befitting of the Weasley name. Then his mother would slither over and into the seat next to him, and he’d eat those sentiments right up.
“What a lovely wedding,” Molly would remark every-time. “I reckon we could have one in our garden and it’d be just as wonderful, wouldn’t it, darling?” Bill swallowed the undertones. His wedding. She wanted to plan his wedding. She wasn’t canoodling up against Percy or Fred or George in persuasive lament, was she? Charlie hadn’t even come back for this wedding, and even if he had, she wouldn’t be imposing the idea on him.
“Looks like Genevieve’s finally met her match,” you murmured, leaning on the small table and staring right past Bill and at the main table where Genevieve and Max were standing. “Cruelty meets cruelty. The world might implode.”
“And what was the point of calling me a prostitute?” you continued in a harsh whisper. “Do you reckon it was a compliment in disguise? As in she was implying I was beautiful and highly sought after?”
Bill nodded. “That’s probably it.”
“So she was jealous.”
“Without a doubt.”
He’d learned the hard way not to meddle in female affairs. Agreement seemed to be the best response.
He watched the wine in your glass fill itself back up again and wondered what else it would cause you to say. Whatever it was, he was entertained. You were cute, somehow even more charming when your lips decided to flow like the wine itself. And however much you decided to indulge in that regard tonight, he was there to keep you safe. He wasn’t sure if it was solely due to moral responsibility or something more.
“Oh, Gen!” you exclaimed suddenly, toppling over your own feet and rattling the table in the process.
Bill stablised the table as you greeted your cousin, and by greeted he meant envelope in a big, crushing hug.
“You look so beautiful, Gen, your dress is stunning, ” you complimented. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” she responded. “You look lovely, too.”
You shook your head and dabbed at your eyes. Genevieve pulled you closer in a sweet embrace.
Bill watched on, perplexed. You didn’t sound like you were on the best terms just a moment ago.
“You’ll be next,” Genevieve assured, stroking your back. “And we’ll all be elated for it.”
You shook your head, a soft “no” coming from your lips.
Bill remarked Genevieve’s face scrunch in confusion at your denial. “Well, after Claude,” she spoke, referring to her brother. “You know how he imitates everything I do. It’s frankly so annoying. I’m sure Draco is the same.”
When you only slightly agreed, she didn’t intrude further than just a quick, pointed glance at Bill. Bill maintained that he should continue to remain silent. He got up and put an arm around you.
“Congratulations,” Bill said. “Thank you for having us.”
Genevieve smiled and left for the next table.
He had no idea what Genevieve’s words sparked in you, but he knew what it sparked in him.
“Have you ever thought of getting married?”
You asked this so innocently, so oblivious to the hurricane you’d stirred in him. He prayed you didn’t feel his fingers clench the slightest bit harder on your thighs as he carried you down the steps. It had been many months of burying his feelings about matrimony. Now the rain from your storm was threatening to push them back up.
There was a long answer and a short answer.
Of course he’d thought about it. He’d always thought about it. He wanted stability. He wanted to come back to the same woman everyday and kiss her senseless in the kitchen. He wanted a child (or two, probably three) to liven up all the spare bedrooms at the cottage. He wanted crayons on the wall, spells blasting at vases, and lazy Sunday mornings in bed.
That was why he never dated anyone he didn’t see himself marrying, and why it felt like his world ended when she left him last year. She was going to be that woman in the kitchen, and every time he was with her, he saw their future kids running amok in their future home. The only issue was that they couldn’t agree exactly where that home was going to be. She wanted him in Paris permanently, but his career needed him in Egypt for the next couple years. She negotiated just one more year there, and Bill was about to agree to it, but then he mentioned how much he wanted them to start the next chapter of their lives at Shell Cottage. He remembered her face falling. The first crack. The rug being pulled form underneath his feet. Then, even a year in Egypt was off the table. Six months wasn’t a given. Next week couldn’t be promised.
As the cracks formed, his blindness became realisation: that she’d never, ever sacrificed a hair of her life for him yet he was expected to drop everything in return.
In their empty flat on his last day there, he wondered how grand end over something so trivial. The same things that he was so confident about were now fluxing with fragility. Could he believe in the happy ending he’d always wanted? Was this his fault?
Charlie had assured him it wasn’t. He said there would be someone out there willing to make the same sacrifices for him as he would them. But Bill listened to his brother with trepidation. After all, this was the Charlie whose lady changed every time Bill saw him. It wasn’t until Molly said the same thing that Bill believed it.
And then you tumbled into his life with such a ridiculous proposition that he genuinely laughed for the first time in ages. He didn’t reckon much would come from your meeting, but he also didn’t think he’d see the things he’d seen from you. Things you didn’t even realize were making his heart open again.
Every time you asked him to do something, you were so considerate of him and it felt strange. Are you free? Is it okay? I'm sorry for dragging you into this. It sounded so strange, so foreign. You'd also changed living accommodations on a whim and never complained about it. Though in retrospect, he should’ve tried harder to have you stay with him at the penthouse. But Fred assured him you three were having the best time, and when he saw you at the barbecue on the day of the concert with Charlie, he believed it. Best let you be.
When you invited him to France with such hesitation like you were disturbing him somehow, he was more than eager to oblige you. You showed him respect for his life. He wanted to mirror your courtesy.
These were small things, sure. But the small things caused the end of his last relationship. Why couldn’t they be the start of his next one? But was he ready? Was the lifeline you were dangling real? Or was he grappling onto something in desperation to save himself?
So, the short answer it would be.
“I think about it more often that I’m older, but I can’t be rushed into it.”
Trying not to rush back into things. Trying not to damage someone else, because hurt people hurt people.
And he would never forgive himself if he hurt you.
END.
TAGLIST: @inpraizeof @milkiane @lovesanimals0000 @alisslahey @milfodyssey @itscheybaby @lookingthroughmirrors @stiles-argent24@aki-ham @my-current-fandom-is @salvatoremuse @nimue-lady-of-the-lake @agathne @benbarnesismybaby@bangbaang @venus-d-vinyl @lexxxtacyyy @pink-hufflepuff @unicornicopia1@itsrhyann@awesomeowlbook @bamboozledflamplant @howpeculier @jaix-8102 @vilentia @sophneedsfandoms @dontbesuspiciousss @sugarrush-blush@actuallyade @thatgoodolswitcharoo @kakorrhaphiphobia @cigaretttes-aftersex @pandoraneverland @theluvcafe@eternally-ineffable@winterishfallinknowledge @tygecjjd@southernraven @roroswitherose
Bill longing is so 😩
🧡 requests open for long hair & tattoos/sunburns & dragons 🧡
Have a chapter you wish was just a little longer? Curious about what might have transpired between chapters?
My inbox is open is for asks/requests for these two series! Send in anything you like as it pertains to the story (just not future events)! I can’t guarantee they’ll be chapter-length but they’ll be added on to the main story in the table of contents.
(I’m so grateful for the support while my account was terminated, and during my hiatus. Hopefully this will get the writing juices flowing in time for the winter).
Was it a Mistake?
Han Jisung x reader
Genre: friends to lovers, getting together
Warnings: none
wc: 892
Summary: Drunken kiss leads to sober confessions
Note: Not proof read
✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*
The sound of the door locking can barely be heard over your quick breathing. The feeling of your makeup mixed with sweat starts to make you itch. Or it could the gravity of what you just did that’s making your skin crawl. You take a few steps reaching for the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing your face. You don’t know how long you’ll be alone before he follows you.
As soon as the thought occurs you hear the soft tapping against the door. “Y/n…. Are you ok? Should we talk about it?” You knew he’d follow. How could he not. It’s not everyday that you drunkenly kiss your best friend. How could you be so stupid. Looking at your reflection in the mirror you swear you’re never going to consume alcohol again.
“Yeah Ji I’m fine”
“Can I come in. Please. I can feel spiral you’re on and you really don’t need to.”
“I’m not spiraling” you are absolutely spiraling but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Y/n we’ve been friends for years. I know you’re spiraling”
You wipe the dark smudges from your eyes and making sure you look semi presentable before you open the door. A deep breath fills your lungs then you open the door. Lips turned in a tight smile.
“See not spiraling”
“Y/n it’s ok. We can talk about it.”
“There is nothing to talk about. We’re both drinking and it obviously didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?” His eyes glaze over, betraying the hurt he feels.
“ok yeah if that’s how you feel.” Oh god it’s not but he can’t know that. It’s better this way. Jisung deserves only the best and you are far from that.
“It’s what I want”
Now back at home and trying to sleep you can’t get his face out of your mind. Between replaying the kiss and seeing his hurt expression your mind wouldn’t shut off. Not even the rain outside can settle the uneasiness that is taking root in you. Another hour passes and you look at the time. It’s four am. Knowing you’re not getting any sleep your body decides to move. Trying to act quickly before you can overthink and convince yourself to stop.
You’ve made this trip countless times and luckily the dark and rain isn’t deterring you too much. You brought your umbrella but that doesn’t take the chill from the wind away. By the time you make it to your destination you’re chilled and damp.
Gathering all your courage you bang on the door. It takes a few minutes but you eventually hear rusting and see lights turning on. Then the door opens and your breathing fails you. Your hand drops and your umbrella follows. You look at Jisung all the time, but here he is standing in front of you. Sleep still lingering among his features and hair messy. His confusion is evident which is understandable, it’s nearly 4:30 now and you didn’t tell him you’d be over.
“Y/n?? What are you doing here?” He finally takes you and the outside environment in. “Oh my gosh why aren’t you wearing a better jacket! Pick that back up you’re getting soaked!!” When he touches you it zaps you back into motion.
“I lied”
He stops trying to move you. Looking up trying to understand the exact meaning of your words. “What are you-“
“When I said it didn’t mean anything. I lied. Jisung you mean everything. I tried to stop liking you but I never could. Your friendship means everything and I never wanted to jeopardize that. But then tonight when we were sitting and talking, I thought you were leaning in and then you glanced down and I couldn’t hold back anymore. But then you looked so freaked out that I thought I must have been wrong. I can’t bear to lose you so I lied. But Ji I don’t want to lie. The kiss meant everything and I can’t go to our cafe tomorrow like everything is normal.”
You’re out of breath by the time you stop. Neither of you talk for a minute, the only sound is the rain as it hits the ground around you.
“Fuck” he exhales and it’s your only warning before he closes the gap and is kissing you again. It’s different than your first kiss. Where that was a relatively quick kiss overshadowed by fear. This was slow and confident. Two people who already know each other so deeply learning something new. The world around you disappeared as you leaned into the warmth radiating off him.
Until you shiver and remember you’re being rained on. “Come inside” His head tilts and his words falling somewhere between a request and a plea. Eyes widening and full of hope. You nod and step into the warmth of his house. When you’re inside he grabs you again, pushes you against the wall and returns his lips to yours. The slow almost tentative approach from before gone.
Too soon he’s pulling away. “You need to change and then we need to actually talk. You start getting ready to shower while he grabs you clothes. For the second time you find yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror, a smile creeping on your lips.
✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*
Masterlist
✧✿✧ Tag List: @conscientiousmenace @vxyselectric @geni-627 @book-mark @eos-princess ✧✿✧
This is so cute! I do hope poor girl doesn’t get sick and need her new boyfriend to take care of her 😌
A Better Leash
Summary: After a lifetime of fear, you decide to fight back.
Warnings: 18+, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Dystopia, Gwi-Ma Won, Blood, Injury, Minor Character Death, Mean Baby. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: For @burdenedwithpointlesspurpose for the KDPH Fest Halloween Prompt Exchange 🎃
Iron cuffs chafe against your wrists chained in front of you. Concrete digs into your knees. Each movement of your shoulders has the claw marks across your back protesting at the stretch. Yeong kneels to your right with her head bowed. Strands of hair are plastered to the gash across her forehead. The bruise along her cheekbone has spread like spilled ink. To your left, Eui slumps. Mouth split and blood dried across her chin, one eye nearly sealed shut from the swelling.
Hours must have passed since they dragged you here. Since the raid.
The village was supposed to be safe. Too small, too necessary in the supply chain to decrease the population. It was an unspoken agreement that agricultural villages would go untouched by demons. Not for mercy. Demons knew nothing of that. Simple logic. Humans dying at the hands of starvation would be a waste.
But dusk had fallen and violet cracks that had haunted your childhood in Seoul snaked their way along the decaying road. The screams still echo in your ears. Your eyes squeeze shut trying to push out the sound, but it allows instead the vivid memory to play in the darkness.
Raids were common enough growing up that you knew how to survive, how to hide. But, as you ran for safety, you saw Eui fall. And a demon—red, fanged, hungry smile—rushed for her. Rage burned out the fear then. A homi discarded in the chaos had fit perfectly in your grasp. And the demon had fallen so easily after a single swing sliced its neck. Eui had pushed to her feet, eyes wide on the demon as liquid seeped from beneath its twitching form. They could bleed.
You could make them bleed.
Eui’s trembling voice breaks the thought. “Why haven’t they killed us yet?”
“Because they couldn’t feed off us,” Yeong rasps. Her voice has yet to recover from the illness that had left her bed bound for a week.
“They tried to feed off us?” You try to remember past the bloodshed, but the aftermath is hazy. Clouded by your head being slammed into the ground and the fury you hadn’t taken more out before then.
She nods.
Teeth dig into your lips to fight back the smile.
“But they could have still killed us back home, even if they didn’t feed or whatever,” Eui says. The brow above her one good eye scrunches. “Why bring us here at all?”
Yeong doesn’t respond. Neither do you. You suspect it has something to do with leaving evidence of their failures behind. When demons feed, they leave nothing. No bodies to mourn. It would take days for the official death toll to be released in your district after a raid. The bright green vests of the Josawon a somber sight the morning after as they counted what remained of the district’s population. But even that can’t fully explain why you’re still alive. They could have taken you anywhere and disposed of you. Could have slit your throat instead of placing you in chains. Why haven’t they?
The question can’t hang heavy in the silence long. Multiple, dragging sets of footsteps begin faintly and grow louder with heavy breathing. Eui tenses. Yeong’s gaze stays on the floor. You lock your eyes on the rusted iron door.
It moans as it opens, hinges whining under the weight. Two demons fill the threshold—one tall and broad with blue skin and horns, the other thin and pink with a protruding underbite. The broad one sticks behind the other, eyes darting worriedly between the three of you.
“Which one?” the thin one asks.
The other raises a trembling hand and points at you.
The thin one moves to you immediately, crouching low enough that you smell iron and rot on his breath. He doesn’t look at you as he unhooks the chains bolted into the floor, just yanks the links hard enough that your hands have to catch yourself before you crash face first into the floor. The movement tears open the fragile clots across your back. You suck in a breath through your teeth but don’t make a sound.
Yeong lurches forward, her hoarse voice breaking. “Wait—don’t touch her—”
The demon turns sharp and raises their hand.
“Stop!” The word scrapes through your throat like glass, but it works. Their hand pauses midair, gaze swiveling back toward you. You hold its gaze, refusing to flinch. “I’ll go,” you manage, forcing calm into your tone. “I’ll go.”
Eui shakes her head, chains clattering as she strains against them. “Don’t—”
But you’re already pushing to your feet, muscles screaming as you give false reassurances you’ll be okay. You keep your chin high even as dizziness tugs at the edges of your vision. The thin demon grabs the chain linking your wrists and tugs—too hard. You stumble but catch yourself and grit your teeth through the momentary agony. The second falls lingers behind, only falling into reluctant step behind you after the thin one growls at him. You hear Yeong whisper your name, small and terrified, as the door slams shut.
The hallway beyond is cold and narrow, built of bare concrete. Water seeps from cracks along the walls. Overhead, fluorescent light strips flicker and hum. The demons don’t speak. Your heart beats too fast. Too loud. You memorize the turns. Left. Then right. Another left. You repeat the pattern over and over. Left, right, left. Left, right, left. Then the moment comes as the grip on your chains loosens—sharp, reckless, electric.
You go limp first, stumbling back with a choked gasp. The demon grumbles as the chain slips from its hand—and that’s when you strike.
The demon doesn’t react quickly enough. It can’t dodge the chain as you swing your arms hard and it hurtles towards its face. There’s a wet, metallic crunch that reverberates along the wall. He howls, clawed hand clutching his jaw. It grabs for you with the other hand, claws scraping across your shoulder, but you twist, drive your knee into its gut. It doubles, wheezing. You draw your hands back in similar fashion as it had threatened Yeong and let the chain arc down across its temple. The thing crumples like wet paper.
You turn. The other demon—the broad one—stumbles under your fixation. One step back. Then another. Its’ voice shakes when it says, “You—you’re not human.”
You don’t answer. You only step toward it.
It bolts.
You’re faster. You're on its back, chain snagging around his throat before he clears the next corner, the metal digging into the skin. You twist your wrists. It falls to the floor, choking, thrashing, wheezing. You twist more, pulling tighter. Claws scrap across the floor as it tries to drag itself away. But there’s no escape.
When the thing is limp, you rise and return to the other body. The chains on your wrists clatter as you drop to one knee. Keys unhook easily from its belt. The first click is the sweetest sound you’ve heard in hours. The second follows almost immediately, and then the weight on your wrist falls away. You stare at the raw skin it’s left behind for only a heartbeat before coiling the chain around your arm. You grip the keys between your fingers of your other hand and stand.
And then you run.
Left, right, left.
You’ll have to make a right, left, and then another right. Rusted iron door. Yeong and Eui. The first turn. You nearly slip, but catch yourself against the wall and push on. The price is a new laceration across your forearm. The second turn. You slow just enough to avoid the same collision. The third turn and—
—you slam straight into something.
For a split second you think it’s a wall—solid, unmoving—but walls don’t grab you. Hands clamp around your arms before you hit the ground, cold and steady. You look up, heart hammering, and freeze.
He looks almost human. Almost. Skin tinted a blue a couple shades lighter than his hair beneath the flicker of fluorescent light, patterned faintly like smoke beneath water. A black gat casts shadows across round, deceptively soft features. His eyes—gold, flat, utterly unimpressed—drop to the chain wrapped around your arm.
Your fist flies towards its face. It manages to avoid the impact by leaning back, but fails to account for the keys between your fingers that scrape its cheek. For one blessed heartbeat its grip loosens.
You wrench free, breath ragged, and let the chain slide loose from your forearm. It slips through your fingers like a living thing as you swing upward, aiming for the throat.
It doesn’t land.
The thing is engulfed in red smoke before your strike connects. A blink later, heat presses against your back. Its arm wraps around you, pinning your arms to your sides and dragging you back against its frame. You thrash, fury ripping through your chest, but it's stronger. Its other hand clamps over your mouth to muffle your grunts..
“What a pathetic thing you are,” it murmurs. The calmness of it—detached, almost bored—lights something inside you. You jerk your head sharply to the side. Its palm slips for a fraction of a second—enough. You sink your teeth into the flesh of its hand and bite. Hard.
The taste is metallic, familiar. The demon’s hand jerks back. The sound it makes isn’t pain—it’s laughter. Low, startled, sliding upward into something that makes your blood run cold.
“Well, well,” it breathes and before you can twist free the world blurs and your back slams into the wall.
The pain is immediate and brutal. Your wounds rip open where the concrete scrapes them raw. Warm blood seeps through the already tattered fabric at your back. It’s already leaning in as you gasp, one arm braced beside your head and the other holding your jaw. Its thumb drags across your lower lip, smearing a streak of his own blood. A grin unfurls, slow and sharp, across its face.
“Someone forgot to muzzle their pet, it seems.”
You try to drive your knee up into its stomach, but he catches your thigh before it lands. The pressure of the thing’s hand is deceptively light, though the threat beneath it isn’t. Before you can wrench free, the sound of shuffling feet cuts through the tension.
The thinner demon stumbles into view, pink skin streaked dark with blood, one of his horns cracked clean down the middle. It gasps when it sees you. “B–be careful, Baby,” it wheezes, words catching on a mouthful of blood. “She–she killed Jahong—”
The demon—Baby—doesn’t take its eyes off you. “Did she now?”
The thin demon nods frantically. “Strangled him. With the chains. And outside of one of the worker districts, they killed eight of—”
“They?” Baby interrupts, the word soft but cutting. Its hand tightens slightly where it grips your jaw, dragging your gaze up to meet it. “There are more of you?”
The thin one hesitates before pointing behind Baby. “Two more. In there.” It swallows hard. “We’re supposed to question them.” The demon’s voice drops lower, nervous. “We couldn’t take their souls. All three of them. They–something’s wrong with them.”
That earns a low hum from Baby. “Couldn’t take their souls,” he repeats, as if tasting the words. Its eyes drop to you again, scanning your face. “Interesting.”
“They’re dangerous,” the thin demon presses. “Her especially. We think she might be a hunter.”
That draws a sharp laugh out of Baby. A sound born of genuine delight. It releases your jaw and leans back slightly, studying you from head to toe with mock reverence. “A hunter?” It gestures lazily with one clawed hand. “This bleeding, trembling thing?”
The thinner demon’s mouth works uselessly. “But–she–”
“Tell me,” Baby cuts in, tone as light as a sigh, “what would a hunter be doing chained in this hallway, covered in her own blood, if she were truly what you claim?” His gaze narrows. “No. Hunters sing when they fight. Do you hear singing, Gwang?”
The thin demon shakes its head quickly. “No, sir.”
“Then she’s not a hunter. There hasn’t been hunters in over two decades.” Baby’s smile sharpens. “She’s just wild.” It takes a deliberate step closer, crowding you against the wall. The space between you vanishes until the air itself feels too thick to breathe. “You’ve caused quite the mess, haven’t you?” it says softly, lips against your ear. “Nine dead.”
The thinner demon—Gwang—takes a nervous half-step forward. “Sir, I can take her for questioning now—”
Baby cuts him a look that freezes him mid-sentence. “Questioning?” Baby sounds amused again, almost pitying. “There’s no point in asking a feral dog why it bites.”
Gwang swallows hard. “Wh–what should we do with her?”
Baby turns its head slowly toward you again, eyes gleaming gold. “We?” Its smile chills your rage to something less certain. “There is no we. She’s mine now.”
You blink, not understanding at first.
“B–but sh-she killed—” Gwang stammers.
“I wonder what Gwi-Ma would have to say,” Baby muses idly, “about your inability to handle one half-dead human.” Its tone turns languid, cruel. “Even if she bites.”
Gwang flinches. “Sir—”
“Leave,” Baby orders, the word sharp as a scath.
The thinner demon doesn’t hesitate. It staggers backward down the hall, half-tripping over its own feet in its rush to escape. The sound of its retreat fades into the hum of the flickering lights, leaving only the two of you and the steady drip of water somewhere in the distance.
For a long, unbearable moment, it simply stares at you.
Then Baby exhales softly, the tension leaving it in a ripple you can feel through the air. Its expression smooths back into something cold, deliberate. “You’ve made an impression, little thing,” it says finally. Its fingers ghost down your arm until they find the chain still hanging loose at your elbow. “I’ll have to find you a better leash.”
Mind you I like just got up.
Not you getting him out in time out 😂
