#So one day I read about Golden Girls and for some reason I thought of the BF Queens and this idea was born

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.

✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

the beast wasn’t all that bad. 

at least, not compared to most people back home. 

in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw. 

you have your wits about you. it makes you strange. 

the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one  full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.

it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange —  they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.

then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.

so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast. 

in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love. 

his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together. 

other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast. 

for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.

just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room. 

“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign. 

katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst  splintering wood and shattering porcelain. 

you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on. 

the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes. 

viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape. 

you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.

yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.

you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as  though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.

it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father. 

but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. 

at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.

piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.

was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?  

then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you. 

you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur. 

katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.

water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren’t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.” 

an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.

you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”

“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance. 

beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out. 

“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child. 

“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.

an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.” 

at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass. 

you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.

he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.

bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him  up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes. 

“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.” 

“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss. 

you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment —  katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face. 

it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,” 

surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur. 

“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.” 

for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast  to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.

from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach. 

having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.

you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.

he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.

you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.” 

it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.

“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear. 

your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did. 

“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.

however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“

steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner. 

hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it. 

“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.” 

“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”

silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours. 

and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again. 

the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal. 

even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering  bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit. 

his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.

a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”

“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.” 

a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him. 

when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge  cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath. 

you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow. 

“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting  into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly. 

the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.

his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.

katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own. 

both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex. 

“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,” 

rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.

“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.

the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”

you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water. 

“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”

all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”

your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.

“fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it. 

even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.  

you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.

with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.” 

katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.  

“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father. 

there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this. 

you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”

lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.

that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.

bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.

your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”

“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?” 

using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”

you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.

he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded. 

ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.

bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.

“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”

“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups. 

despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.

“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”  

the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too. 

“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you. 

all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to  shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight,  the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.” 

quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him. 

either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body. 

“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”

“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air. 

his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth. 

as if to coach an answer out of you,  his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.

instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…” 

the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft. 

in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!” 

using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.

katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy.  so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.

neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.

if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.

but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[joelsrose]

Tangled in Paradise

my masterlist here!

Ahhhh here is chapter 1 of my new mini-series!! I am so freakin excited for you guys to read it, i've had so much fun writing it - to everyone waiting for my other stories thanks so much for being patient and i promise i will get to them! enjoy and let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in the next chapters xx

The marble counter was cool against under your skin, a welcome relief from the lingering heat of the day. You perched on the edge, scrolling through your phone with one hand, the other holding a burrito that was rapidly becoming your favorite part of the evening. Mimi, your cat, stretched luxuriously beside you, her fluffy tail flicking in idle disinterest as she basked in the low glow of the kitchen light.

Your thumb idly swiped up, Instagram reels flitting past like a mindless parade. A stupid AI-generated meme caught your attention—something ridiculous but hilarious enough to make you snort, burrito in hand.

The sound of a FaceTime notification cut through your laugh, your phone vibrating in your palm. The screen flashed with Maria’s name, her photo—a sunny candid of her grinning at a picnic—lighting up the display.

You swiped to answer.

Her face appeared, as vibrant and glowing as ever, framed by the golden light of her apartment. “Hey, girl!” she chirped, her voice carrying the kind of energy that made you suspicious.

“Hey, you,” you replied, taking a bite of your burrito mid-sentence. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your honeymoon in Hawaii or something?”

“It’s not a honeymoon,” Maria groaned, her eyes rolling so dramatically they could’ve done a full lap.

“Sure,” you drawled, giving her a knowing look. Maria and Tommy had been dating for a year and a half, and if anyone was going to get engaged in an annoyingly picture-perfect way, it was them. “But seriously,” you added, “don’t you leave in, like, two days?”

“Yeah, about that…” Her voice trailed off, her expression shifting to something between sheepish and conspiratorial.

You froze mid-chew. “Oh no. Are you guys okay? Don’t tell me you—”

“No!” she interrupted, waving her hands at the camera as if to swat the idea away. “God, you’re such a cynic.”

“Cynicism comes with being single,” you shot back, gesturing vaguely to your burrito.

She laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Okay, so here’s the thing,” she said, leaning closer to her screen. “I have… a situation.”

“Go on,” you said, intrigued now.

Her sigh was long and theatrical. “For some reason, I let Tommy book our trip.”

“And?” you prompted, taking another bite.

“And the idiot accidentally booked a couples package,” she said, dragging out the words like they physically pained her.

You blinked, unfazed. “I don’t get it. You guys are a couple.”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head so fast her hair whipped around her face. “He booked it for two couples. Four people.”

You nearly choked on your burrito, a laugh bursting from your chest. “Classic Tommy,” you said, grinning. “So? What’s the big deal? You’ve got a million couple friends. Pick one.”

“I’ve been asking around!” she huffed. “But everyone already has New Year’s plans, and the package is non-refundable.” She gave you a pointed look, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Oh no,” you said immediately, holding up a hand. “If this is going where I think it’s going—”

“Would you want to come?” she asked, her tone overly sweet. “You’re my best friend. You’re legally obligated to say yes.”

You stared at her, incredulous. “Maria, in case it wasn’t painfully obvious, I’m single.”

“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That’s why Tommy was going to ask his brother Joel to come along. That makes four people. Problem solved.”

You paused, brow furrowing. “Joel, huh?”

Maria nodded eagerly.

You thought about it for a moment. Joel. You didn’t know much about him—just snippets from Maria here and there. He worked with Tommy in construction, lived in Texas. You didn't even know what he looked like.

“I don’t know…” you hedged.

“Oh, come on,” Maria whined. “You’re not doing anything for New Year’s, and you know it. You’re just gonna sit at home, watch Bridget Jones’s Diary, and drink cheap wine with Mimi like you do every year.”

You glanced at Mimi, who stretched lazily, her tail flicking as if to agree. Maria wasn’t wrong.

“Plus,” she continued, her grin widening, “once we get there, you guys can do whatever you want. Hawaii! Beaches, cocktails, hot guys—live your best life.”

You sighed, the temptation starting to outweigh your resistance. A free trip to Hawaii with your best friend? Sand, sun, and maybe a chance to flirt your way into a memorable New Year’s Eve?

“Prettyyyyy please?” Maria hummed, drawing out the word in a way that made you laugh despite yourself.

“Okay,” you said finally, shaking your head. “I’m in.”

Maria let out a squeal of victory, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re the best! I’ll text you the details. Pack something cute!”

As the call ended, you set your phone down and looked at Mimi, who yawned lazily in response.

“Well,” you said, leaning back on the counter. “Looks like we’re skipping Bridget Jones this year.”

Hawaii, you thought. The idea felt distant, unreal. But as you glanced at the empty corner of your apartment where your suitcase sat gathering dust, you had a feeling this trip might just change more than your New Year’s plans.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Hawaii was breathtaking. The kind of beauty that made you forget how much your neck hurt from the long flight or how unreasonably sweaty you felt in the tropical heat.

You leaned your head against the open window of the taxi, letting the warm wind tangle through your hair as you gazed out at the scenery. Endless shades of green blanketed the mountains in the distance, framed by the electric blue of the ocean stretching out to the horizon. Palm trees lined the road like an army of dancers frozen mid-sway, their fronds whispering in the breeze.

Maria sat beside you, her voice animated as she gave Tommy a play-by-play update on your whereabouts. “Yep, we’re just pulling in now,” she said, twisting her body slightly to look at the approaching hotel. “Alright, bye, love you!”

You turned to her, sticking a finger down your throat in mock disgust.

“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.

The taxi turned into a long driveway lined with torch-lit paths and vibrant hibiscus flowers in full bloom. As the hotel came into view, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning closer to the window.

It was like something out of a movie—a sprawling, open-air building with white stucco walls, wooden beams, and a terracotta-tiled roof. The entrance was framed by a massive archway, beyond which you could see a lush courtyard with fountains trickling water that sparkled in the sunlight.

A uniformed staff member waved the taxi forward, and your jaw nearly dropped as you took in the full view. The lobby was entirely open, its vaulted ceilings soaring toward the sky. Just beyond it, you could glimpse the infinity pool that seemed to spill directly into the ocean. The smell hit you next—salt air mixed with plumeria and something faintly sweet, like coconut.

“This is insane,” you said under your breath.

Maria beamed. “Right? This is so much better than the photos.”

The taxi slowed to a stop, and the driver hopped out to help you with your luggage. You tipped him generously and offered a polite “Mahalo,” feeling strangely self-conscious about whether you pronounced it right.

“Tommy already checked us in, so we can go straight to our room!” Maria practically bounced on her toes as she grabbed her carry-on. “Eeeeek, I’m so excited!”

“Me too,” you said with a grin, taking it all in. “And to think, you’ll be leaving here engaged.”

“Hey,” she said, giving you a mock glare. “Don’t jinx it.”

As you approached the entrance, a small group of staff members greeted you with warm smiles. A woman wearing a flowy dress in bright tropical prints stepped forward, holding a pair of leis made of fresh flowers. She draped one around Maria’s neck first, then yours, the cool petals brushing your collarbone as she said, “Aloha, and welcome.”

“Aloha,” you replied awkwardly, still feeling like an outsider in this slice of paradise.

Another staff member offered you both chilled glasses of pineapple juice, the condensation slicking your fingers. You took a sip and practically melted. It was fresh and sweet, with just the right amount of tartness.

“This is heaven,” Maria whispered as you followed the bellhop toward the elevator.

You couldn’t argue with her.

Everything about this place felt surreal—the golden light filtering through the palms, the faint hum of ukulele music from somewhere in the distance, and the soft roar of waves crashing against the shore. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, urging you to forget the rest of the world existed.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“So,” Maria began, standing beside you in the elevator, glancing down at her phone. “Since it’s already…” she trailed off, squinting at the screen. “Five o’clock, how about we settle in, freshen up, and then have dinner around 6:30?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed, leaning back against the elevator wall, the faint scent of hibiscus and sea salt lingering in the air.

The elevator chimed softly, announcing your arrival at the designated floor.

You followed her as she led the way down the long, carpeted corridor, passing room numbers etched into sleek gold plaques.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, stopping in front of Room 712. “This is us.”

Us? you thought, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. But you let it slide, figuring she meant she and Tommy.

Maria slipped the key card into the slot with a practiced flourish, and the door opened with a soft click. You stepped in behind her, expecting a hotel room. Maybe a nice one—Maria had said Tommy splurged—but this wasn’t a room.

It was a suite.

No, not just a suite—a goddamn palace disguised as a hotel suite.

Your breath hitched as you took it all in. The entryway alone was larger than your living room back home, its polished marble floors gleaming under warm recessed lighting. Beyond it, the suite opened into an expansive living space with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed an unbroken view of the turquoise ocean. Sheer white curtains swayed gently in the breeze from the open balcony doors, where plush loungers and a private hot tub overlooked the horizon.

To your left, an oversized sectional couch sat in front of a sleek flat-screen TV, its armrest stacked with neatly folded, resort-branded towels. To your right, a dining table made of dark, glossy wood was set for four, complete with fresh flowers and an ice bucket chilling a bottle of champagne.

“Shit, Maria,” you breathed, turning to her with wide eyes. “This is insane.”

“I know!” she squealed, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like a kid at Christmas. “We’re gonna have the best time!”

You were about to ask where you’d be staying when a familiar voice cut through the moment.

“Hey, baby,” Tommy called, appearing from one of the adjacent rooms. He grinned as he walked over, pulling Maria into a hug and kissing her lightly on the lips. “I thought I heard you. How was the flight?”

“Good,” she replied, resting her head briefly against his shoulder before pulling back to gesture around the suite. “This is incredible, Tommy.”

“Yeah, guess I didn’t fuck up too bad, huh?” he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile softened.

Tommy’s gaze shifted to you, his grin widening. “Hey, darlin’. How’ve you been?”

You returned his smile as he pulled you into a friendly hug, the scent of sunscreen and a hint of aftershave clinging to him.

“Good, Tommy. You?”

“Better now that I’m in fucking Hawaii,” he said with a laugh, gesturing around dramatically.

You laughed, too, feeling some of the tension from the long day begin to melt away. Tommy had always been easy to like—funny, respectful, and completely devoted to Maria. He had that older brother vibe with you, always quick to check in and make you laugh when you needed it.

“So,” you said, glancing around. “Do I have a room key or something?”

Maria and Tommy exchanged a quick glance, his arm still draped casually around her shoulders.

“Oh,” Tommy said, scratching the back of his neck as he turned to Maria. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, the first twinges of unease creeping in.

Tommy gestured around the suite. “This is it. The suite. We’re all staying here. There are two big rooms—come on, I’ll show you!”

Before you could even react, Tommy had slipped his arm around yours, steering you further into the space like an overenthusiastic tour guide.

“Maria—” you started, but he was already pointing things out.

“Look at this place!” Tommy exclaimed, his voice brimming with the kind of excitement that made it hard to stay mad at him. He pointed at the sprawling living room like a proud real estate agent. “Big-ass TV, private balcony, minibar���it’s nuts. And wait ‘til you see the bedrooms. King-sized beds, the works.”

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder, catching Maria hovering by the door. She met your glare with a sheepish shrug, mouthing a silent sorry, her lips curving into an awkward half-smile.

Sorry? That was all she had to say?

Tommy was already leading you deeper into the suite, his arm draped comfortably around yours, blissfully unaware of the rising irritation simmering beneath your polite nods.

“Over here’s the kitchen,” Tommy said, gesturing to a sleek, open-concept area with dark wood cabinets, marble countertops, and stainless steel appliances that gleamed like they’d never been touched. “I mean, not that we’re cooking or anything, but still—pretty sweet, huh?”

You nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation that this wasn’t just their setup—it was your setup, too.

“And here,” Tommy said, stopping in front of a door, “is one of the bedrooms.” He swung it open with a flourish.

The room was absurdly gorgeous. A king-sized bed dominated the space, dressed in crisp white linens with a soft, seafoam-green throw draped across the foot. The headboard was made of rich, dark wood, its edges carved with delicate floral patterns that gave the room an understated elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a private balcony, where you could already hear the gentle crash of waves in the distance.

“Not bad, huh?” Tommy grinned, leaning against the doorframe.

“Not bad?” you echoed, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in your tone. “Tommy, this is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously awesome,” he corrected, winking.

You let out a breath, forcing a smile as you turned back toward the living room. Maria was still hovering by the door, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

“Maria,” you hissed, your voice low but sharp as you made your way over to her.

She plastered on an innocent smile. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” you whispered, glancing back to make sure Tommy wasn’t listening. “You didn’t think to mention we’re all staying in the same suite?”

She shrugged again, this time with exaggerated nonchalance. “I didn’t think it was a big deal! The place is huge. You’ll hardly even notice.”

“Hardly notice?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly before you caught yourself. You took a calming breath, lowering your tone again. “Maria, I thought I’d have my own room. My own space.”

“You do have your own space!” she insisted, gesturing toward the suite with a grin. “Look around—it’s basically a mansion. And Tommy said the other bedroom is just as nice as this one.”

“Maria,” you started, pinching the bridge of your nose.

She cut you off with a dramatic sigh, stepping closer to loop her arm through yours. “Look, I know this isn’t what you were expecting, but come on. It’s Hawaii. The suite is incredible. We’re gonna have an amazing time.”

“I didn’t realize me and Joel would be sharing a fucking room together!” you hissed, keeping your voice low but sharp.

Maria waved a dismissive hand, her expression almost too breezy. “It’s fine. Joel’s a gentleman. He’ll sleep on the couch or something.”

“Oh, so I’ll just be the bitch who forced a man to sleep on a couch during his vacation?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Maria winced, but only slightly. “You’re being dramatic.”

You raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Am I?”

She stepped forward, placing her hands on your shoulders, her expression softening into the kind of pout that had gotten her out of trouble since you were in college. “Please,” she murmured, drawing out your name like a plea. “It’ll be fine. Joel’s easygoing. And think about it—how much time are you really gonna spend in the room? You’ll barely even notice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off again. “Plus,” she added, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m getting engaged this week. You can deal with this, right? For meee?”

Her eyes were wide and imploring, and despite every bone in your body wanting to say no, the guilt crept in like an uninvited guest. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.

She was right. You could deal with it. Worst-case scenario, you’d take the damn couch yourself. It was a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things… right?

“Okay,” you said finally, the word coming out like a reluctant exhale. “Okay. Yeah. Fine.”

Maria’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. “You’re the best! I owe you one,” she said, pulling you into a quick, triumphant hug.

“Oh, you owe me big,” you muttered, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

She pulled back, grinning. “I promise, this is gonna be the best trip ever. You’ll see.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You stepped into the room you’d be sharing with Joel and let out a long sigh. It was gorgeous, of course, just like the rest of the suite—spacious, luxurious, and dripping with the kind of elegance that made you feel like an imposter just by being there.

The centerpiece was a king-sized bed that dominated the room, its crisp white linens layered with soft, seafoam-green pillows that practically begged you to sink into them.

A pair of matching nightstands flanked the bed, each topped with sleek glass lamps that cast a warm, inviting glow. Across from the bed, a low, polished dresser supported a large flat-screen TV, and the far wall was made entirely of glass, leading out to a private balcony. Through the sliding doors, you could see the ocean stretching endlessly, the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance.

It was beautiful. It was serene. And it was yours… and Joel’s.

Sharing a room with a stranger wasn’t exactly how you imagined this trip starting, but it wasn’t like you could back out now.

You smoothed down your clothes and stepped out into the suite’s living room. The evening light poured through the massive windows, painting the space in shades of gold and orange. Maria and Tommy were curled up on the couch together, her head resting on his chest as they laughed softly at something he’d said.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you called, leaning against the arm of the couch.

“Hey!” Maria greeted you with a bright smile, sitting up slightly while Tommy offered you a quick nod.

“So, uh…” you began, shifting awkwardly. “Is Joel—?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tommy said, interrupting you as he sat up straighter. “The idiot missed his flight.” He shook his head, though there was no real malice in his voice, only amusement. “But he’ll be here soon.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding. “Okay. I think I’m gonna take a shower in the meantime.”

“Alright,” Maria replied, stretching her legs out across Tommy’s lap.

But just as you turned to head back to your room, Tommy’s voice stopped you.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his tone softening as you glanced back. “I think you two will really get along.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he continued, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I know it’s a weird situation—sharing a room and all—but Joel’s… he’s a good guy.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond but unable to stop the flicker of curiosity sparking in your chest.

“Well,” you said finally, “I guess we’ll see.”

Tommy grinned, leaning back into the couch as Maria nestled closer to him.

You turned and headed for your room, the sound of waves and the low murmur of their voices fading behind you. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but glance at the bed again. Sharing a room might be awkward, sure—but it might also be the most interesting part of this trip.

And something told you that Joel Miller wasn’t the kind of man you could easily forget.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The shower was as luxurious as the rest of the suite, a spa-like haven of sleek stone tiles in earthy tones that stretched from floor to ceiling. The water cascaded from a wide, rain-style showerhead above, warm and steady, like a soothing tropical downpour.

Built-in shelves held miniature bottles of fragrant shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, each scented faintly of coconut and vanilla. Soft recessed lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, and a small, fog-free mirror was cleverly positioned above a polished stainless-steel bench.

You hummed softly, the sound mingling with the rhythmic patter of water as you worked shampoo through your hair. The gentle steam wrapped around you like a cocoon, loosening the knots in your muscles and leaving your skin dewy and warm.

This was paradise, you thought, your hands scrubbing at your scalp. For the first time in months—years, maybe—you felt truly relaxed. No deadlines, no responsibilities, just the soothing rush of water and the faint scent of the ocean wafting through the cracked bathroom window.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice rang out from the living room, muffled by the sound of the shower.

You turned the water pressure down just enough to hear her better. “Yeah?”

“Tommy and I are gonna head out and grab a coffee. Do you want anything?”

“Ooh! An iced vanilla latte please!” you shouted back, your voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls.

“Got it!” she called. “We’ll lock up behind us.”

“Okay!” you yelled, adjusting the temperature slightly.

A soft click of the door signaled their departure, the quiet settling over the suite like a warm blanket. You were alone now, the world outside reduced to the distant hum of waves and the steady rhythm of water hitting the tiles.

You sighed, working conditioner through the ends of your hair, letting the tension in your shoulders melt away. This was perfect. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of peace—a moment entirely yours, untouched by worry or distraction.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The bathroom was warm and hazy with steam, the scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air as you wrapped a fluffy white towel around yourself. Your hair dripped in lazy rivulets down your back, and you ran a hand through it, reveling in the feeling of complete relaxation. This was bliss.

You barely registered the muffled sound of the suite door opening, or the faint, low rumble of a man’s voice calling, “Tommy?” from the living room. Even if you had, it would have been drowned out by your impassioned rendition of Smooth Operator, your voice echoing off the bathroom tiles as you gave yourself over to the moment.

Joel Miller—unknowingly your temporary roommate—entered the shared room with his eyes glued to his phone, his brow furrowed in mild annoyance. His thumb scrolled idly as he typed out a text to Tommy, Where the hell are you? He muttered something to himself under his breath, the deep, low timbre of his voice carrying a faint Texas drawl.

Completely oblivious, he walked toward the bed, not noticing the neatly folded pile of your clothes sitting on top of it, or your travel bag perched on the dresser. His focus was laser-sharp on the glowing screen in his hand, his frustration apparent in the slight clench of his jaw and the furrow of his dark brows.

You didn’t hear him.

He didn’t see you.

Not until you pushed the bathroom door open, a plume of steam rolling out ahead of you as you stepped into the main room.

And there he was.

Standing by the bed, his broad shoulders filling the space as effortlessly as the sunlight spilling in from the balcony. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his scruff-lined jaw shifted as he frowned down at his phone. He was gorgeous.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

Joel, still engrossed in whatever was on his screen, didn’t notice you at first. Then, slowly, his head lifted—like he sensed your presence—and his eyes landed on you.

The moment stretched, silent and charged.

And then you screamed.

Like, actually screamed.

Joel jumped, his phone nearly slipping from his hand as his wide eyes shot up to meet yours. “Jesus Christ!” he barked, his voice rough and sharp, like gravel. “What the hell—”

“What the hell?” you shrieked back, clutching your towel tighter as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

Joel held up his hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender, his phone dangling precariously between his fingers. “Hey, easy! I—” His words faltered as his gaze flickered—briefly, too briefly—to the towel clinging to your body before snapping back to your face. His cheeks flushed slightly, though his tone remained gruff. “I didn’t know you were… here.”

“You didn’t know?” you sputtered, taking a defensive step back toward the bathroom door. “What are you even doing in my room?”

Joel frowned, gesturing vaguely at the space around him. “Your room? Pretty sure this is my room too.”

Your jaw dropped, words failing you for a moment as your mind scrambled to process the situation. “You—you’re Joel?”

His brow lifted slightly, his mouth twitching into what might have been a smirk if the situation weren’t so absurd. “That’d be me,” he said, his voice dipping lower.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your damp face. “Of course. Of course this is how I meet you.”

Joel crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the edge of the bed as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Look, didn’t mean to scare you, alright? Figured this room was empty when I didn’t see Tommy’s stuff.”

“Well, it’s not empty,” you shot back, your cheeks burning. “Clearly.”

“Yeah, I got that now,” he said dryly, his lips quirking into something dangerously close to a smile. His gaze flickered briefly to the bathroom door, then back to you, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “You, uh… wanna put on some clothes before we keep yellin’ at each other?”

Your face burned, heat flooding your cheeks as the reality of the situation hit you. You were still standing there, dripping wet and wrapped in nothing but a towel, completely exposed in every possible way.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, tightening your grip on the towel.

His eyebrows shot up, and damn it, he looked smug about it. That stupid little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that only made him seem more amused.

Before you could say anything else—or throw something at him—Tommy burst into the room, Maria trailing close behind, both of them wide-eyed and holding coffee cups.

“Hey!” Tommy shouted, his voice loud and panicked. “Are you alright? We heard screaming—”

He froze mid-sentence, his gaze bouncing between you, half-naked and flushed, and Joel, standing entirely too casually by the bed.

Maria’s hand flew to her mouth, barely stifling a laugh as she took in the scene, her eyes dancing with poorly concealed amusement.

“Maria!” you snapped, your voice a sharp plea as you clutched the towel tighter around you.

Tommy, meanwhile, didn’t miss a beat. He grinned, his worry evaporating in an instant as he stepped toward Joel. “Hey, big bro,” he said, pulling Joel into a quick hug, completely unfazed by the tension in the room.

“Hey,” Joel replied, his voice smooth and easy, like this whole situation wasn’t absolutely mortifying.

“How was your flight?” Tommy asked, stepping back as if this were the most normal reunion in the world.

“Good,” Joel said, shrugging as he turned to Maria. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, his tone softening just slightly. “Hey, Maria.”

You stood there, utterly stunned, your mouth slightly open as the three of them exchanged greetings like you weren’t standing there, soaking wet and humiliated in the middle of the room. It was laughable. It was absurd.

Maria caught your desperate look and cleared her throat, nudging Tommy. “We should, uh…”

“Right,” Tommy agreed, glancing at the coffees in his hands. “We should get outta your hair.”

Joel, however, didn’t move right away. His gaze flicked back to you, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes dragging over you in a way that felt both infuriating and electric. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening.

“See you soon, roomie,” he drawled, the emphasis on the word sending a jolt of annoyance through you. He finished with a wink that made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t care to analyze.

You barely managed to hold back a growl as he turned and followed Tommy and Maria out of the room, their laughter trailing behind them. The door clicked shut, leaving you standing there, still clutching your towel and feeling like the universe’s favorite punchline.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself, glaring at the door. “This is just great.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, staring at the crisp white linens like they might hold the answer to your predicament. For thirty long minutes, you debated your options, none of which seemed remotely appealing.

Option one: walk out there and pretend like nothing happened, even though Joel’s smug face was now burned into your memory. Option two: stay in this room for the rest of the vacation, surviving on room service and spite. Option three: book a flight home and disappear into the dead of night, leaving Maria to deal with the fallout of her matchmaking debacle.

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands.

Your phone buzzed, the soft ding breaking the silence. You picked it up, already bracing yourself.

Maria: You gonna come out or stay in there forever?

You sighed heavily, typing back a quick response. You: Maria, this is so embarrassing.

Her reply came almost immediately. Maria: It’s not. Can Joel come and get settled? The poor guy.

Poor guy? Was she kidding? Poor you!

You sighed again, the sound loud and dramatic even to your own ears. Fine. If Joel needed to get into the room so badly, you weren’t going to be the one standing in his way. You: Yes. He can.

Maria’s response came with an infuriating kissy-face emoji that made you want to hurl your phone across the room.

A sharp knock on the door startled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

And then the knock came again. And again. And again.

You rolled your eyes, standing up and calling out, “Yes?”

“Hey, it’s Joel,” his voice came from the other side of the door, deep and slightly muffled. He kept knocking.

Still knocking.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you shouted, exasperated.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Are you clothed?”

You threw your hands in the air, your irritation bubbling over. “Jesus Christ!”

He laughed softly through the door, the sound aggravatingly charming.

You stormed to the door and yanked it open, ready to let him have it—but the words caught in your throat when you saw him. Joel stood there, hand still raised mid-knock, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was leaning slightly against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space effortlessly, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Just makin’ sure,” Joel said, his tone easy as his gaze flicked over you, his eyes pausing briefly on your flushed cheeks before settling on yours. There was a teasing glint in his expression, the kind that made your pulse do a little stumble.

You stood there, arms crossed, doing your best to meet his gaze without faltering.

He tilted his head slightly, his brow lifting as he watched you.

“What?” you asked, your voice sharp, defensive.

“You’re, uh…” he gestured toward the doorframe with a small tilt of his chin, “kinda in the way.”

“Oh.” You blinked, flustered, before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Joel stepped past you, his eyes scanning the room with a low whistle. “This place is insane,” he said, his voice warm with genuine awe. “Fuckin’ worlds away from Texas.”

You almost smiled, thankful he didn’t make the whole towel incident more awkward than it already was.

He turned to you then, leaning casually against the edge of the dresser, his arms crossing over his chest. “So,” he began, his voice dipping into something dangerously close to playful. “I see you claimed the right side of the bed.”

“Is that a problem?” you shot back, mirroring his crossed arms with your own.

“Nah.” Joel shook his head, his lips quirking into that same infuriating smirk. “I should be closest to the door anyway.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“In case a murderer comes in,” he said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What the hell?” you asked, staring at him.

“What?” He gave you a look, like you were the one being unreasonable. “Us men gotta think about these things.”

You were about to reply—maybe point out how absurd he sounded—but the words died on your tongue as Joel casually reached behind his neck, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and shrugged it off in one smooth motion.

Your breath caught.

He stood there, completely unbothered, the golden light from the balcony casting shadows across the toned muscles of his chest. His skin was sun-kissed, his shoulders broad and strong, with a faint trail of dark hair running down his stomach. It was like something out of a magazine—effortless, masculine, and almost unbearably unfair.

You gulped, suddenly forgetting how words worked.

Joel caught your stare, his mouth twitching into that damn smirk again. “What’re you doin’?” you managed, your voice higher than you intended.

“What does it look like?” he replied, tossing his shirt onto the back of a chair like he owned the place. “Seriously, if you’re gonna freak out every time I take my shirt off, we’re gonna have a problem.”

You blinked at him, floundering for a response.

“We’re in Hawaii,” he added, gesturing vaguely toward the balcony as if to drive his point home.

“I know that,” you snapped, crossing your arms tighter, though the heat rushing to your face wasn’t helping your case.

Joel grinned, shaking his head as he grabbed a towel from the dresser. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he said, his tone light, teasing, like this was all some game he was enjoying far too much.

You stood there for a moment after Joel disappeared into the bathroom, the faint click of the door echoing through the room. It was ridiculous how your heart was racing, how the heat lingering in your cheeks wouldn’t budge no matter how many deep breaths you took.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself as you crossed the room. “Unbelievable. Insufferable.” You tossed a glance at the bathroom door, half-expecting Joel to stick his head out and throw another one of those infuriating comments your way. But all you could hear was the sound of the shower turning on, the steady stream of water muffling whatever he might be saying to himself in there.

You tried to focus on something else, anything else. You unpacked a few things, neatly folding your clothes into the dresser drawers, your movements quick and sharp. But your mind refused to stay on task, wandering back to the way Joel had just… shrugged off his shirt like it was nothing. Like he didn’t notice—or care—how good he looked doing it.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you shoved the last of your shirts into the drawer. You’d met plenty of flirty guys before, but there was something about Joel—something about the way he seemed so at ease, so himself, that made him impossible to ignore.

The bathroom door opened, and Joel stepped out, a cloud of steam following him like it was part of his aura. He was shirtless, of course, a white towel slung casually around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends, darker now that it was wet, and he was rubbing the back of his neck as though he hadn’t just walked out looking like a whole damn Calvin Klein ad.

You froze, your hand still on the drawer handle, and for the briefest second, you considered looking away. But Joel caught your gaze before you could, his lips curving into that easy, teasing grin.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your unpacking,” he said, his tone warm and playful. “Figured you’d need the bathroom soon.”

“I—uh—yeah,” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how pathetic that sounded.

Joel’s grin widened, and he leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know,” he drawled, “you don’t have to look so nervous. I don’t bite.” He paused, tilting his head slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Unless you’re into that.”

Your mouth fell open, and you snapped it shut again almost immediately. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, pushing past him toward the bathroom.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson, its golden light filtering into your room through the slightly ajar door leading to the suite’s main balcony. From outside, you could hear Maria, Tommy, and Joel’s voices carrying on the ocean breeze—easy laughter and teasing banter.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, your back resting against the edge of the bed. The large mirror propped in front of you reflected your half-done makeup, the bronzer brush in your hand hovering mid-air as you muttered a curse under your breath. You were running late—distracted by the events of the afternoon.

Behind you, the bed was a mess of organized chaos: two dresses—one slinky and black, the other vibrant red—lay sprawled across the sheets, along with a carefully chosen collection of jewelry. Your music played softly from your phone on the floor, and you hummed along absentmindedly between swipes of blush.

What you didn’t notice was the sound of the balcony door sliding open, or the way Joel sauntered into the room like he had all the time in the world.

He wore a pale linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, paired with beige shorts that hung low on his hips. The soft golden light of the setting sun kissed his skin, highlighting the faint sheen of the humid evening air. His hair was perfectly tousled, like he’d just run his fingers through it, and he carried two beers in hand, the bottles clinking softly as he moved.

“Hey,” he said casually, his deep drawl breaking through your concentration as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed behind you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

You jumped slightly, your eyes darting to the mirror where you caught his reflection. Your gaze locked with his, and for a moment, the air in the room felt heavier, smaller. “Hey,” you replied, suddenly hyper-aware of the blush brush in your hand and the faint flush already spreading across your cheeks.

Joel leaned back slightly, one elbow propped on the mattress, his expression easy but his eyes sharp as he studied you. “Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said with a faint grin, holding out one of the beers. “Beer?”

You shook your head quickly, turning back to the mirror and dabbing more blush onto your cheeks, as if that could somehow cool the warmth rising to your face. “Oh, no thank you. Can’t stand the taste of beer.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, twisting the cap off one of the bottles with practiced ease. “Can’t stand it?”

You laughed softly, glancing at him through the mirror. “Nope. I don’t get how anyone likes it.”

He chuckled, taking a swig before setting the untouched bottle on the nightstand. “Guess that means more for me.”

The silence between you settled, not awkward but charged, the kind of silence that felt heavy with words unspoken. Joel’s gaze drifted to the bed beside him, his fingers brushing over the fabric of the red dress before he glanced back at you.

“So,” he began, his tone teasing but gentle. “Which one are you plannin’ on?”

Your hand froze mid-swipe, and you turned to face him fully, your lips parting slightly. “I, uh…” You looked between him and the dresses, suddenly feeling shy under his steady gaze.

Joel tilted his head, his grin shifting into something softer, more crooked. “C’mon, roomie. You gotta pick. Red or black?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I was leaning toward the black one,” you admitted, though you weren’t entirely sure why you felt the need to explain.

Joel nodded thoughtfully, his fingers brushing the fabric of the red dress again before he picked it up, holding it out as though inspecting it more closely. “Black’s classy. Safe,” he said slowly, his voice quieting. “But…” He paused, swallowing hard enough that you noticed. “I think red.” His usual confidence faltered for a fleeting moment, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to the dress. “Red would look, uh… really good.”

Something in his voice—almost awkward, but sincere—made your chest tighten. “Okay,” you said softly, turning back to the mirror before the moment stretched too long. “I’ll think about it.”

Joel nodded, setting the dress back down just as your timer went off on your phone. You swore softly, rushing to finish your blush. “Shit, I swear I’m almost done,” you said, glancing at Joel apologetically.

Joel stayed exactly where he was, his gaze still on you in the mirror, his voice warm and easy. “Hey,” he said. “Take your time. We’re not in a hurry.”

You hesitated, meeting his eyes through the reflection. “You sure? I don’t want to hold everyone up.”

Joel shook his head, his grin softening. “We’re in Hawaii. Ain’t no rules about bein’ late here. Besides, worth the wait.”

Your chest tightened again, and this time, you couldn’t quite hide the faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks,” you murmured.

“No problem,” Joel replied, leaning back on his hands. “I’ll, uh, let you get ready.”

His gaze caught on something on the bed, and he reached out, picking up the delicate necklace you’d set aside. “Oh. Did you need help with this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you said quickly, shaking your head.

“It’s really no problem,” Joel said, already standing and crouching down behind you.

The warmth of him was immediate, his presence so close that you swore you could feel the faint brush of his breath against your neck. “Here,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Hold still.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you lifted your hair, exposing the back of your neck. Joel’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he fastened the clasp, his touch lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“There,” he said, his voice soft as his hands dropped back to his sides.

You turned slightly, catching his gaze in the mirror. His eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said a word.

“Perfect,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Thanks.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The hotel grounds were even more breathtaking at night. The warm glow of lanterns lined the stone pathways, their soft light spilling onto lush tropical plants and casting flickering shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the mingling scents of saltwater and frangipani, and somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore carried through the warm breeze.

Maria and Tommy walked ahead of you, their hands interlocked, their laughter soft and easy. Maria wore a flowing emerald-green dress that seemed to shimmer as she moved, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her glowing face. Tommy leaned toward her as she said something, his smile wide and unrestrained as he brushed a kiss against her temple. They looked like something out of a postcard—effortlessly in love and perfectly matched.

You and Joel followed behind, your steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. His hands were tucked casually into the pockets of his shorts, the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt revealing the golden tan of his forearms. The easy sway of his stride gave him an air of confidence that felt completely natural, like he didn’t even realize the effect he had on people—or maybe he did, and just didn’t care.

As you passed beneath an arch of twinkling string lights, Joel glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching the light for a brief moment before his lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“So,” he drawled, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You listened to me, huh?”

You glanced up at him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He nodded subtly toward your dress, the red fabric clinging to your figure in all the right ways. “The red,” he said, his grin turning slightly crooked. “Told you it’d look good.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, the heat crawling up your neck despite the cool evening breeze. You glanced down at the dress, brushing invisible lint off the fabric as you tried to steady your voice. “Thanks,” you said lightly, tilting your head just enough to give him a sidelong glance. “Guess you’ll be my fashion advisor for the trip.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and rich, like a melody you didn’t realize you wanted to hear on repeat.

“Careful now,” he said, leaning closer as his voice dropped just a fraction. “You let me make too many decisions, and next thing you know, I’ll have you in cowboy boots and denim shorts.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Never say never, roomie,” he teased, his grin widening as his arm brushed yours for a fleeting moment.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a few beats, your steps in sync as you followed the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the path. Maria and Tommy’s laughter floated back to you from up ahead, their silhouettes framed by the soft flicker of string lights.

“So,” Joel said after a moment, leaning slightly toward you as though he were sharing some grand secret. “Tommy thinks Maria has no clue he’s gonna propose.”

You glanced up at him, your brow furrowing. “Seriously?”

Joel nodded, his grin growing more playful. “Yep. Poor guy’s convinced she hasn’t pieced it together.”

“She’s got a hunch,” you said knowingly, the corners of your mouth quirking into a small smile.

Joel let out a warm laugh, the sound easy and genuine. He leaned a little closer, his voice dipping just enough to feel more personal. “So,” he began casually, though the teasing edge in his tone gave him away, “you, uh… got a boyfriend or something?”

Your steps faltered slightly, and you turned to look at him fully, raising an eyebrow. “Joel,” you said, your voice dry but amused. “If I had a boyfriend, do you think I’d be here on a couples trip, with someone who is not my boyfriend?”

Joel blinked, his lips parting as he realized how ridiculous the question was. “Oh,” he said quickly, his grin softening into something sheepish. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you replied, brushing it off with a wave of your hand.

Joel’s smile returned, his gaze flicking over you with an almost curious warmth. “Just find it hard to believe,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, more sincere.

You blinked, caught slightly off guard by the shift in his tone. “Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes to cover the sudden flutter in your chest. “Does that line usually work for you?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, his expression turning playfully indignant. “What line?”

“The cheesy pickup lines,” you shot back, your lips curving into a smirk.

“I’m being serious,” he said, his tone dipping into something earnest, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

“Mhm,” you replied, your voice laced with mock skepticism as you tilted your head at him.

Joel let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as though genuinely disappointed. “Wow. So cynical,” he said, his grin returning as he leaned slightly closer, the heat of his gaze brushing over you. “Bet you’re a real hit at parties.”

Before you could fire back a retort, Maria’s voice called out from ahead, cutting through the night air. “Guys, hurry up! We’re gonna miss the live music!”

Joel turned toward her voice, then glanced back at you with a grin that was all charm and mischief. “Better pick up the pace,” he said, his drawl warm and teasing. “Wouldn’t wanna get left behind and have to serenade you myself. Though, fair warnin’—my singin’ ain’t free.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you quickened your step. “Lucky for you, Joel, I’m not paying to hear whatever cowboy karaoke you’ve got up your sleeve.”

Joel chuckled, falling into stride beside you. “Careful,” he said, his voice low and playful. “Talk like that, and you’re gonna hurt my feelin’s.”

“Somehow, I think you’ll survive,” you replied with a grin, your heart skipping as his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long.

As the two of you caught up with Maria and Tommy, the warm glow of the hotel lights and the faint hum of music ahead set the perfect stage for the night—and for whatever this thing between you and Joel was slowly becoming.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“Holy shit,” Tommy murmured as you all stepped into the restaurant.

And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

The place was stunning, a picture of understated luxury that somehow felt warm and inviting rather than intimidating. The open-air design let in the salty breeze, while woven lanterns hung from high wooden beams, casting soft, flickering light across the room. The walls were draped with lush greenery, accented by vibrant tropical flowers that seemed too perfect to be real. Somewhere in the background, the faint hum of live music blended seamlessly with the rhythmic crash of waves.

“This place is insane,” Joel murmured beside you, his deep drawl laced with quiet awe as his gaze swept across the space.

You glanced at him, catching the way the soft lighting brushed over the angles of his face, highlighting the faint scruff along his jaw and the warm brown of his eyes. “Not bad, huh?” you said with a small smile, your voice teasing.

He nodded, his lips curving into a slight grin. “Guess Tommy finally got somethin’ right.”

A waiter appeared, all effortless poise as he greeted you with a warm smile. “Right this way,” he said, motioning for you to follow.

The four of you trailed him through the restaurant, past tables filled with couples leaning into quiet conversations and groups laughing over cocktails. The soft glow of candlelight flickered across polished wood and crisp white tablecloths, giving the whole place a dreamy, golden hue.

The waiter led you outside to a terrace overlooking the ocean, where more lanterns were strung across the open space, their warm light mingling with the silver glow of the moon reflecting off the water. The sound of the waves was louder here, blending with the distant strum of a ukulele from the live band.

Maria and Tommy slid into one side of the table, their fingers already interlocking as they settled in. Joel, without hesitation, pulled out a chair next to yours and gestured for you to sit.

“Ladies first,” he said, his grin softening into something almost gentlemanly.

You gave him a small nod, sinking into the seat. He followed, sitting beside you with the kind of ease that made it seem like he’d been doing this for years.

“Here are the menus,” the waiter said, placing them delicately in front of you. “And the drink menus.” He offered a quick, practiced smile. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

As soon as he disappeared, Tommy leaned forward, flipping open the drink menu with wide eyes. “This place has everything,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Maria laughed, resting her chin on her hand as she glanced at her boyfriend. “Don’t get too excited. You still have to pay for it.”

“Worth it,” Tommy replied, already scanning the cocktails.

Beside you, Joel leaned back in his chair, his arm resting casually along the back of yours. He opened his menu with one hand, but his attention wasn’t on it—it was on you.

“See anything you like?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

You glanced at him, your brows furrowing slightly. “The menu just got here.”

“Not talkin’ about the menu,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening just enough to make your pulse skip.

“Jesus,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head and focusing hard on the menu in front of you.

Joel laughed, the sound warm and rich, as he grabbed a menu for himself. “Relax,” he said, flipping lazily to the drinks page, his eyes scanning the options with a faint smirk.

After a moment, he leaned closer, angling the menu so you could see it too. His shoulder brushed yours, the warmth of his presence impossibly distracting. “Hey, look,” he said, pointing to a section of colorful, overly elaborate cocktails. “These all sound fancy. Perfect for you.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing at the names—everything from Tropical Temptation to Hibiscus Bliss. “You think I’m a ‘fancy cocktail’ kind of person?”

Joel’s grin grew wider. “I dunno. Thought you might enjoy somethin’ a little sweeter. Balance out all that sass.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, Joel straightened in his seat, his gaze lighting up with a spark of mischief. “Hey, let’s play a game,” he said, turning to face you more fully.

You frowned, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “What kind of game?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dipping low as though sharing a secret. “Simple. I choose your drink, you choose mine.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “How is that a game?”

Joel chuckled, resting his elbow on the back of your chair as he met your gaze head-on. “Because,” he said, his tone slow and deliberate, “it’s a test of trust.”

“Trust?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, completely unfazed by your skepticism. “Yep. You trust me not to order you somethin’ ridiculous, and I trust you not to screw me over with, I dunno…” He gestured toward the menu. “A Pink Flamingo Paradise or somethin’.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head. “You don’t strike me as a Pink Flamingo Paradise kind of guy.”

Joel smirked, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence. “I’d rock it, though.”

You snorted, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the menu as you debated. “Alright, fine,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “But if you pick something gross, I’m holding it against you for the rest of the trip.”

“Fair,” he replied easily, his grin never wavering. “Same rules apply.”

You both turned back to your menus, scanning the options with newfound purpose.

Joel glanced at you, his tone teasing. “What’re you thinkin’? Something with an umbrella in it?”

“Maybe,” you shot back, smirking. “What about you? Something boring like beer?”

“Boring?” Joel placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense as he leaned back in his chair. “You wound me.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head as you glanced back at the menu. After a moment, you settled on a drink, pointing it out to the waiter with a confident nod. Joel followed suit, his choice quick and deliberate, though the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t about to let the game end there.

“All right,” Tommy said, leaning forward and slapping the table lightly. “We gotta get serious about this food situation. There’s too many damn things on this menu. What’s everyone thinkin’?”

Maria laughed, nudging his arm. “You’re acting like we’re solving world hunger, babe. Just pick something.”

Joel glanced at his brother with a faint smirk before turning his attention back to you. But this time, his playful demeanor softened, his gaze shifting to something quieter, more thoughtful.

“You got any dietary stuff I should know about?” Joel asked, his voice lower now, almost tender.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His tone was so different from the usual teasing lilt you’d come to expect—gentle, sincere, like he genuinely cared about the answer.

“Uh, no,” you said after a beat, shaking your head. “Nothing like that.”

Joel nodded, his expression relaxed but still warm. “Good to know,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary before he turned back to the menu.

You swallowed hard, the faint warmth of his attention leaving a subtle flutter in your chest.

“Okay,” Tommy said, clearly oblivious to the moment as he squinted at the menu. “What the hell is a coconut lime mahi-mahi? Am I supposed to know what mahi-mahi is?”

“It’s fish, Tommy,” Maria said with a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes fondly. “You’ve had it before. Remember that time we went to the seafood place in Austin?”

“Oh,” Tommy said, nodding. “Right. That was good.”

Joel chuckled, his voice breaking the small bubble of tension that had lingered between you. “Y’know, Maria,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, “you’re gonna have your hands full with him.”

Maria grinned, clearly unfazed. “Already do.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

This was fun, you thought, glancing around the table as laughter spilled into the warm night air. The conversation flowed effortlessly, Maria and Tommy trading playful jabs while Joel chimed in with his dry, easy humor. For the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease, the tension of earlier moments melting into the atmosphere of good company and golden light.

The food arrived before you even realized how much time had passed, the waiter placing each dish with practiced elegance.

Tommy, true to form, had ordered something hearty—a perfectly seared steak topped with garlic butter, its aroma rich and mouthwatering. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing it like it was the centerpiece of a grand feast. “Now this,” he declared, picking up his knife and fork, “is what I’m talkin’ about.”

Maria, ever the balance to his bold choices, had gone for a delicate seafood linguine, the pasta glistening with olive oil and white wine, studded with shrimp and fresh herbs. “You’d better share,” Tommy teased, eyeing her plate, but Maria only swatted his hand away with a laugh.

You had chosen a grilled snapper, its crispy skin drizzled with a tangy mango salsa and paired with a vibrant side of coconut rice. The bright colors and tropical flavors made your plate look like something straight out of a magazine.

Joel’s choice was classic and unfussy—a plate of barbecued ribs slathered in smoky sauce, with a side of roasted potatoes and charred corn on the cob.

He caught your gaze as he picked up a rib, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What?” he asked innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “You were gonna judge me no matter what I got.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I wasn’t judging. Just… admiring your commitment to the messiest thing on the menu.”

“Gotta live a little,” Joel replied, his tone light but his gaze lingering just long enough to make your heart skip.

The laughter continued as everyone dug in, the clinking of silverware and the hum of the nearby live music weaving seamlessly into the scene. Soon after, the waiter returned, a tray balanced expertly in his hands.

“For the lady,” he said with a polite smile, setting a vibrant, colorful cocktail in front of you. It was topped with a slice of fresh pineapple and a tiny pink umbrella, the drink itself a swirl of coral and gold hues.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at it. “Oh my god,” you said, biting back a laugh. “What is this?”

Joel leaned in, his grin widening as he inspected the drink. “That,” he said, his voice full of mock-seriousness, “is a Sunset Paradise.”

You shot him a look, your lips twitching as you tried to hold back your laughter. “Are you kidding me? You picked this?”

“Hey, I thought it suited you,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes dancing with mischief. “Sweet, colorful… a little over the top.”

You shook your head, picking up the glass and taking a small sip. The flavors burst on your tongue—pineapple, passionfruit, a hint of coconut rum. Damn it. It was actually good.

“Alright,” you admitted reluctantly. “Not bad, Miller. Not bad.”

Joel’s grin only widened.

“And for the gentleman,” the waiter continued, placing Joel’s drink in front of him with a subtle flourish.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you as you stared at the delicate martini glass, filled with a pale pink liquid and garnished with a single orchid flower floating on top. “Oh, this is perfect,” you said, barely able to contain yourself. “Joel Miller, enjoying a Hibiscus Bliss.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you, his lips twitching as though he was fighting a laugh of his own. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much,” he muttered, picking up the glass with exaggerated care.

“Go on,” you teased, leaning forward on your elbows. “Take a sip. Let me see you savor that hibiscus.”

Joel held your gaze, his grin slowly breaking through as he raised the glass to his lips. He took a slow, deliberate sip, setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” he said, his tone deadpan. “Real sophisticated.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. “I can’t believe you’re pulling this off.”

“Darlin’,” Joel said, his grin turning cocky as he leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear, “I could pull off anything.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The four of you sat back in your chairs, the plates cleared and glasses now reduced to condensation-rimmed remnants of colorful cocktails and beer. The warm buzz of good food and drinks settled over the group, and you realized with a start just how comfortable you felt.

Somehow, throughout the course of dinner, you and Joel had drifted closer. His arm rested casually along the back of your chair, and though he wasn’t quite touching you, you could feel the faint pull of his presence—the warmth radiating from him like he was the sun itself.

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice soft and low as he turned to you, his grin creeping in at the edges. “Now you gotta rate the drink I picked for you. Outta ten.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think, though the teasing glint in your eye gave you away. “Hmmm…” you hummed, dragging it out just to watch his brow twitch in anticipation. “I’ll give you a… seven.”

Joel leaned back, letting out a low hum of approval. “Seven, huh? Above average. I’ll take it.”

You smirked, leaning slightly toward him. “And now you?”

He glanced at the remnants of his Hibiscus Bliss, the delicate pink drink looking comically out of place in his hand, then back at you with an exaggerated frown. “Five.”

Your jaw dropped, and you straightened in mock offense. “A five?”

Joel nodded, his lips curving into a crooked smile as he took another sip. “Yeah, and that’s me bein’ generous.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head, but you couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

In front of you, Maria and Tommy were leaning into each other, their voices softer now, heads close as they shared a quick peck. Maria’s laughter was light and sweet, blending with the faint strum of live music in the distance. The two of them were completely in their own world, whispering and exchanging smiles like the honeymoon phase had never ended.

Joel’s voice cut through the moment, low and warm as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing your ear. “Let’s make a bet.”

You turned to him, your brows arching in curiosity. “I’m listening.”

He angled himself toward you, his grin widening just enough to make your heart do an annoying little flip. “Whoever’s right about when Tommy proposes gets to make the other person do whatever they want.”

Your brows furrowed as you studied him, skeptical. “That’s not fair,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s your brother. He’s probably told you everything he’s planned.”

Joel raised a hand, his expression softening into something almost boyish. “Swear to God, he hasn’t said a thing. I got no clue when he’s gonna do it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for any hint of deception, but Joel just held your gaze steadily, his grin turning a little smug, like he knew you were about to give in.

“So?” he prompted, his voice a touch lower now, coaxing. “You in?”

You hesitated, glancing back at Maria and Tommy. The way they were leaning into each other, so completely at ease, made you think it had to be soon. And honestly, the thought of beating Joel at his own game was too tempting to pass up.

“Alright,” you said finally, turning back to him. “I’m in.”

Joel’s grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair, his arm brushing yours ever so slightly as he settled into the space between you. “Good,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, roomie. I’ll go easy on you when I win.”

“You mean if you win,” you corrected, your voice sharp but playful.

Joel chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he raised his glass in a mock toast. “To fair play,” he said, his drawl warm and teasing.

You clinked your glass lightly against his, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. Whatever this was—this slow, teasing back-and-forth—it was addictive, pulling you in like a tide you didn’t want to fight.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

When you arrived back at the suite, the quiet hum of the evening enveloped the four of you. The buzz of laughter and conversation from dinner had given way to the heavy weight of exhaustion. Maria and Tommy murmured their goodnights as they veered off to their side of the suite, their soft laughter fading behind the sound of their door closing.

You and Joel walked to your side in silence, the tension between you as palpable as the warmth of the tropical night. You could feel his presence behind you, his steps slow and deliberate, and you swore you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the cool tiles beneath your bare feet as you reached the bedroom door.

Inside, Joel moved toward the bed, dropping his phone onto his side with a casual thud before sprawling back against the pillows. His arm rested lazily above his head, the glow from his screen illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You grabbed your pajamas and headed toward the bathroom. The cool splash of water on your face was grounding as you scrubbed off your makeup, brushed your teeth, and slipped into something more comfortable. But even as you tried to settle your thoughts, you couldn’t shake the image of Joel, relaxed and at ease, sprawled out on the bed like he owned it.

When you emerged, Joel’s eyes flicked up from his phone immediately, locking on you like you’d just stepped into a spotlight. His gaze traveled over you briefly—too brief to feel invasive but long enough to send heat rushing up your neck.

“What?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended as you set your things on the dresser.

“Nothing,” he said easily, his lips curving into a faint smile as he stood, grabbing his own bundle of clothes. “Just didn’t realize bedtime was a fashion show.”

You shot him a glare, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. “Go brush your teeth, Joel.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, disappearing into the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Christ,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a long sip.

You settled into bed, plugging your phone into the charger and pulling the covers up to your chest. The clock on the nightstand blinked 11:03, and the suite was quiet except for the faint sound of the ocean outside.

Just as you were starting to relax, the bathroom door swung open, and Joel strolled back into the room like it was nothing—barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of low-slung pajama pants. His hair was damp, his skin still warm and golden from the day, and he was entirely, maddeningly unbothered as he crossed to his side of the bed.

Without a word, he threw himself onto the mattress, the springs creaking slightly under his weight as he flopped down with an exaggerated sigh.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, your voice sharp as you stared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently, propping himself up on one elbow to meet your gaze. “I live here too, roomie.”

You gestured vaguely toward him, your eyebrows lifting. “Could you maybe warn someone before… doing that?”

Joel tilted his head, clearly biting back a grin. “Doin’ what?”

You waved your hand in his direction, exasperated. “Showing up half-naked like some—some—”

“Some what?” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing as his grin finally broke free. “Greek god? Movie star? Go on, I’m listenin’.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. “You’re insufferable.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm as he turned his head to look at you, his grin teasing but his gaze soft. “And you,” he emphasized, his drawl stretching the words as though savoring them, “are too wound up.” He rested one arm behind his head, the picture of lazy confidence as he continued. “Good thing you’re on vacation, or you might just explode.”

You turned your head to glare at him, though the twitch of your lips betrayed you. “Gee, thanks, Joel.”

“Just statin’ facts,” he said easily, his smirk widening as he stretched out across the bed like he owned it. “Bet you’re one of those people who makes to-do lists for their time off.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I do not.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. So you didn’t already plan out tomorrow?”

You hesitated, pressing your lips together, and Joel laughed, the sound rumbling and warm.

“Knew it,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “C’mon, roomie, you’re supposed to be relaxin’. Let me guess—early morning hike? Sunrise yoga?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the corner of the blanket and pulling it higher up your chest. “For your information, I was thinking about hitting the beach. Maybe snorkeling. Normal vacation stuff.”

He tilted his head, his gaze flicking over you briefly before meeting your eyes again. “So, what time we headin’ out?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Tomorrow,” Joel said, his voice casual but his grin edging toward mischievous. “You’re plannin’ it, right? Guess that makes me your plus one.”

You stared at him, your mouth opening slightly before you caught yourself. “You want to come with me?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his tone turning mock-serious. “You expect me to leave you unsupervised in Hawaii? What if you trip over a rock or somethin’?”

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. “Fine. But only if you promise not to complain the whole time.”

“Me? Complain?” Joel said, his brows lifting in mock offense. “Never.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him, but before you could retort, his gaze shifted, softening as it settled on you.

“Serious question,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to make your heart falter for a beat.

Your eyes snapped to his, the teasing grin on your face fading as your breath hitched slightly. “What?” you asked, wary of his tone.

Joel tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment before he said, deadpan, “Do you snore?”

Your heart stopped, then restarted with a kick of disbelief. “Joel.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his brow furrowing like this was some grand existential question. “I can’t do snorin’. It’s a dealbreaker.”

You glared at him, though the faint blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I do not snore.”

“Good,” Joel said, nodding like he was checking something off a list. “Because sometimes… pretty girls do weird things in their sleep.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice sharp but your cheeks betraying you as they burned.

Joel grinned, his gaze lingering on your face a moment too long as your blush deepened. “Just sayin’,” he added with a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying himself.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in your chest, but before you could respond, Joel’s expression shifted again—his grin fading into something gentler, more serious.

“Also,” he began, his voice quieter now, “if you want, I can, uh, sleep outside. On the couch.” He gestured vaguely toward the suite’s living area, his tone so casual it almost masked the sincerity in his words. “It’s no big deal. I know you weren’t expectin’ this whole… shared bed thing.”

The offer caught you off guard, the sweetness of it pulling you up short. Joel—so cheeky, so infuriatingly confident—was looking at you now with an openness that you hadn’t expected.

You breathed in slowly, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his. “No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Joel raised a brow, his lips curving faintly. “You sure?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “As long as you stay on your side of the bed.”

His grin widened, that playful spark returning to his eyes. “Good,” he said, his tone lighter now. “Because, truth is, I really didn’t wanna sleep on the couch. It looked lumpy.”

You laughed softly, your chest loosening as the tension faded. “Wow, such a gentleman.”

Joel leaned back against the pillows, his grin turning smug but somehow still boyish. “Told you. I’m full of surprises.”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh escaping you, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your amusement. Settling back onto your side of the bed, you pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, the faint scent of clean linen and something distinctly Joel filling the air.

The room was quiet now, the low hum of the ocean outside mingling with the soft creaks of the suite as it settled around you. Despite the space between you, the warmth of Joel’s presence lingered, stretching into the silence like something unspoken but understood.

“Night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and a little shy as you closed your eyes.

There was a pause—a small, almost imperceptible beat—and then his voice came, low and warm, carrying the faintest trace of a smile. “Night, roomie’.”

CHAPTER 2 IS OUT HERE

[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[itneverendshere]

If you ever heard the song “Insecure” by Jazmine Sullivan, I was wondering if you could read a fic with rafe about that

it’s Like toxic!rafe and reader

INSECURE

PAIRING: bsf!toxic!rafe x kook!reader warnings: emotional manipulation; self-hatred; toxic!rafe.

If someone asked you how it started, you couldn’t even tell them.

It was Rafe Cameron you were talking about.

The guy was a walking red flag, all swagger, all ego, and too much money for his own good. He had the type of face that made you forgive him even when you didn’t want to. And trust, you'd tried to not want to. But that never worked out, obviously.

It’s not like you thought you could change him or whatever. You were not one of those girls. You just...thought you’d be different. Special. Maybe you got a little caught up in that fairy tale bullshit sometimes. Like, maybe if you were the one who held his attention long enough, maybe he’d stop messing around and actually be serious.

Actually see you.

Spoiler alert: That’s not how it worked

You learned that real quick with Rafe.

It wasn’t even two months in before you found some girl's scrunchie in his Jeep.

You were leaving the club, both tipsy, and you slid into the passenger seat when you spotted it in the back. You know how girls leave stuff behind like it’s a game? Like it’s their way of marking territory? That scrunchie was practically a neon sign that read, "I was here."

You picked it up, twirled it around your finger, and waited for him to notice.

He didn’t.

“What's this?” You finally asked, not even looking at him, just staring at that stupid pink scrunchie like it had all the answers you needed.

Rafe glanced over at it for half a second before shrugging, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Dunno. Probably Sarah’s.”

Sarah Cameron, his sister, the golden girl of the family. His excuse every time something came up.

“It’s not Sarah’s.” You weren't buying it. You knew that girl’s style inside and out, and there’s no way in hell she’d be caught dead wearing something this basic. You tossed it into the backseat, feeling your blood boil.

Of course he’d still treat you like shit, why care about a lifelong friendship, right?

Rafe rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have the decency to act like he cared that you were pissed.

“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice dripping with that condescension that always made you feel stupid for caring. “It’s just a fucking scrunchie.”

But it wasn’t. Not to you.

See, the thing with Rafe is, he never said he was yours. You never had some grand conversation about exclusivity, about titles, none of that. But that’s how it was with him. He’d show up at your door, flash that killer smile, and you’d forget every reason why he wasn’t good for you.

And yet, there was this constant feeling in your chest.

Tight, twisted, like a knot you couldn’t untangle.

It wasn’t just the girls or the scrunchies or the way he’d disappear for days, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and half-assed explanations. It was you. How you felt around him. You were constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if you were enough, if you were what he wanted. Things were so different before.

If you were even on his radar when you weren't right in front of him. And that feeling, that deep, gnawing insecurity? It was starting to mess with your head.

A week after the scrunchie incident, you found yourself at another one of those parties on Figure Eight. The kind where we Kooks pretend we're so much better than everyone else but still drink cheap beer out of red solo cups. It was the usual crowd—Topper, Kelce, a few other guys you barely knew, and, of course, Rafe.

You were wearing this black mini dress you knew he liked, the one that hugged your body in all the right places. You wanted to feel good tonight, like you could make him see you the way you needed him to. It was pathetic, but you thought if you played your cards right, maybe you'd get more than just half-hearted attention.

But then, halfway through the night, you saw her.

This girl—some random pogue you'd never seen before—leaning against the bar, laughing at something Rafe was saying. And it wasn’t just that he was talking to her. No, it was the way he was looking at her. That look he used to give you when you first started whatever this was between you two.

Like she was the most interesting thing in the room. Like she was the only thing. Even if she was wearing that cheap, threadbare tank top and worn-out jean shorts. The kind of clothes that screamed she probably worked at some surf shop or waited tables just to get by. And here Rafe was, cozying up to her like she was something special. Like she wasn’t just another girl he’d forget about tomorrow. Making yourself compare to someone like her.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, your palms sweaty as you watched them. You could feel your heart sinking, your gut screaming at you to just leave. But you didn’t. You just stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, watching him slide his hand up the back of her arm, a move so smooth, so practiced, it made you feel sick.

You hated this. Hated yourself. Hated that you let him have this kind of power over you.

Your mind did that annoying thing where it flashed back to the first time you slept with him. Like it wanted to torture you with every little detail of how you got here. You’d both been drunk, of course. But not blackout drunk—just the kind of buzzed where everything feels a little too easy, a little too warm.

You’d known Rafe forever, been best friends since you were kids. He was practically a part of you, or at least, he used to be. You trusted him, which is why when he showed up at your place that night, laughing about something stupid, you didn’t think twice when he crashed on your couch.

Only he didn’t stay on the couch.

You remember how he looked at you from across the room, that cocky smile he always wore, but softer somehow. Like he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make a move. He’d leaned in, brushed his hand against your leg—casual, but not really. Your heart had pounded in your chest, but you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t want to stop him.

And when he kissed you? You were done for. All those years of being “just friends” went right out the window. It was like all the tension between you, all the unspoken stuff, just exploded. You were in his lap before you even realized what was happening, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that it was just this one-time thing, a moment of weakness.

But Rafe… he knew how to get to you.

He made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered, even though you weren’t. You were just there, convenient. But at the time? You didn’t see it like that. You thought maybe this would change everything. That maybe the Rafe you’d grown up with was still in there somewhere, buried under all the coke, the girls, the chaos.

You were wrong.

It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even blame the girl. She probably had no idea who Rafe really was. She just saw the guy with the money, the smile, the charm.

Your throat tightened as he leaned in, saying something that made her laugh again. That same laugh he’d once pulled out of you. God, how could you be so stupid? You knew what he was. Hell, you’d known for years. But still, you’d let yourself get wrapped up in him, like maybe you’d be the exception. Like maybe you’d matter.

But you didn’t. You were just another girl he’d sweet-talk, mess with, and then forget about the second something new and shiny came along.

Topper came up beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. “You good?”

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the scene in front of you and forcing a smile. “Yeah, totally. Just need another drink.” Your voice was light, casual, but inside, you were falling apart.

He gave you a weird look, but shrugged it off.

Guess everyone knew how you felt about Rafe. You weren't exactly subtle about it.

You downed another vodka soda, the burn doing nothing to numb the ache in your chest, and made a beeline for the back of the house.

You needed air. You needed to breathe.

You barely made it past the kitchen before you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. You turned, expecting it to be some random guy, but no—it was Rafe. His grip was tight, a little too tight, and you could see the annoyance in his eyes.

“You’re leaving already?”

Rafe’s grip on your wrist was too tight, but it wasn’t like that surprised you anymore. It was always like this with him—one second, things were fine, and the next, you were stuck in this same stupid cycle of feeling small and stupid for caring.

“I just need some air,” you muttered, trying to pull away, but of course, he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked across your face like he was trying to figure out if you were actually upset or just being “dramatic,” which, spoiler alert, you weren’t.

“You’re not seriously mad about that girl, right?” His voice dripped with amusement, like your feelings were some kind of joke to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice like that was supposed to make you feel better. “It’s not that deep.”

It's hard to remember this used to be your best friend, before you two started whatever this game was and he decided you just weren't that girl to him anymore, just another body he could call up when he needed to get laid.

You stared at him, mouth dry, trying to figure out why you were even still standing here.

“Really?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Because it kinda feels like it is.” You finally yanked your wrist free, stepping back just enough to get some space. “Do you even care? Like, do you even care that you’re making me feel like this?” You hated how your voice cracked, how vulnerable you sounded.

“We’ve just having fun,” Rafe just stared at you like you were overreacting. “I don’t get what the big deal is. Why are you always making this such a thing?”

Fun. God, that word made your stomach turn.

Fun for who? You knew what he meant, but hearing it out loud still stung. You’d been holding onto this hope, this ridiculous idea that maybe you were different, maybe he cared more. But it was so clear now. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even close.

“It’s a thing because it is a thing,” you said, voice shaky but steady enough. “I can’t just turn off my feelings like you do, Rafe. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when I see you flirting with other girls like I don’t exist.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re making this complicated. I never said we were serious. You knew what this was from the start.”

And there it was.

The slap of reality you’d been avoiding for way too long. He never said you were his, never promised you anything more than what he gave—a few nights here and there, some attention when it was convenient for him, but nothing real.

And you knew that. But it didn’t stop you from wanting more.

“But you still keep me around, don’t you?” you said quietly, mostly talking to yourself at this point. “You keep me close when it’s easy, when it’s fun for you. And I let you.”

God, that hurt to admit out loud. You let him make you feel like this. Over and over.

Rafe just stood there, completely unfazed. Like this was no big deal. He shrugged, and it made you want to scream. “If you’re so unhappy, then just leave.”

You stared at him, feeling your heart twist in your chest. How did it always come back to this? Him pushing you away like you didn’t mean anything. Like you weren’t standing right here, hurting. You searched his face for something—anything—that showed he actually gave a damn.

But there was nothing.

“Yeah,” you whispered, throat tight. “Maybe I should.”

Rafe blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. The moment you said “maybe I should,” it was like the words didn’t even register with him. He let out this half-laugh, half-scoff, eyebrows raised. “Wait—what? You’re not actually serious right now.”

You just stood there, trying to hold onto the last shred of whatever self-respect you had left, but his reaction made you feel like you were the crazy one. Like you weren’t the one who’d been dragged through the emotional wringer for months.

“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible, but inside? You were shaking. “I’m done.”

He shook his head, like you were talking nonsense. “C’mon, stop. You always say shit like this when you’re mad. You’ll cool off in a couple hours. You’re just… overreacting. Again.”

That word—overreacting—was like gasoline on the fire burning inside you.

“I’m not overreacting. I’m tired.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of all the times you’d let him off the hook. “I’m tired of feeling like an idiot every time I care about you. Every time I think we might actually be something.”

He took a step closer, and you could smell the beer and expensive cologne clinging to him. “We are something,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine, like he believed it. “We have fun. You’re acting like I’m out here trying to hurt you or somethin'.”

“You don’t think you’re hurting me because you never even think about me in the first place,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You never even consider how any of this makes me feel, and that’s the problem. You don’t care.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back like you half-expected him to. Instead, he just stared at you, confusion all over his face, like this was the first time he’d ever heard any of this.

“So what, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the concept of you actually walking away from him didn’t make any sense. “You’re not serious. You won’t actually leave.”

Your heart twisted at that—at how confident he was that you’d stay. That no matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many girls there were, or how many times he ghosted you, you’d always be right there, waiting. Because you always were. All your life.

He was so sure of it.

You felt your hands shake, and you hated that he still had that power over you. That even now, standing here in this stupid hallway at some stupid party, your heart was still fighting your brain, still wanting to hold onto him just a little bit longer.

But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Yeah, Rafe. I’m leaving.” The words came out firm, stronger than you even thought you were capable of right now. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Or maybe it was just the realization that he didn’t have you as locked down as he thought. “You’re really gonna walk away from this?” He gestured between the two of you, as if whatever this was had been so good, so untouchable. “Don’t be stupid.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You think I’m the one being stupid? You’ve taken me for granted this whole time, and I was dumb enough to let you."

He just stood there, silent, looking like he didn’t even know how to answer. Because he didn’t. He never actually thought you’d go. He never thought you’d call him on his shit and mean it.

But you did. And now he was realizing it.

Without waiting for him to say another word, you turned and walked away, feeling like you could finally breathe for the first time in a long time. 

You barely made it a few steps before you heard him call after you. “Wait, hold on!”

You kept walking, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. You knew if you stopped, if you even looked back at him, you’d get sucked right back in. But of course, Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easy.

“Wait!” His voice was closer now, and before you could pick up the pace, he grabbed your arm—not harshly this time, just enough to make you stop. “Come on, don’t just walk away.”

You sighed, shutting your eyes for a second before turning around. “What, Rafe? What do you want me to say?” You were so exhausted from this, from him, from the constant back and forth. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

He let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to rein it in. “Can we just… talk about this? You’re pissed right now, and I get it, but you can’t just leave like this.”

“I can leave,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “That’s literally what I’m doing."

He exhaled sharply, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re really just gonna throw everything away? After all this time?”

You stared at him, heart pounding in your chest. “What exactly am I throwing away? Huh? What have we even been lately? ’Cause from where I’m standing, all I’ve been doing is waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth more than just a random hookup whenever you feel like it.”

He winced at that, and for a second, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d get it. Maybe this would be the moment where he actually realized how badly he’d been screwing up. But instead, he went for the same excuse he always did.

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, like that would erase everything. “You know I care about you, okay? We’ve known each other forever. You’re… important to me.”

“Important to you?” You laughed, but it wasn’t even close to funny. “If this is how you treat people who are ‘important’ to you, then I don’t even wanna know how you treat people who aren’t. Oh wait, I do know."

Rafe sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. But…Can we just, like, think about it for a second? Talk about it?”

You shook your head, feeling the frustration build again. “What is there to talk about? You only wanna have this conversation now because I’m actually leaving. You never wanted to talk about it before.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No, Rafe. You think I haven’t tried to bring this up? Every time I tell you how I feel, you brush me off. I’ve been bending over backwards, trying to make this work, and all I’ve gotten in return is you treating me like I’m an afterthought.”

Rafe frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not true. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Because I’m walking away,” you shot back. “That’s the only reason you care right now—because you don’t wanna lose control. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You never actually thought I’d leave.”

He didn’t say anything, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “We used to be best friends. I knew you better than anyone, and you knew me. But I don’t even recognize you anymore. And honestly? I don’t recognize me when I’m around you either.” Your voice softened, "I deserve better than this. And you know it.”

For a second, he just stood there, looking at you like he was processing everything. His face wasn’t smug or arrogant anymore. He actually looked… lost. Maybe even scared. It was the first time you’d seen him drop the act in a long time, and for a split second, you felt that pull again—the one that always made you want to fix things, to make it better, to stay.

But you couldn’t do it this time. You couldn’t keep saving him at the expense of yourself.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “You’re… you’re one of the only people who actually gets me. I don’t wanna lose that.”

That hit you right in the gut, because deep down, you didn’t wanna lose him either. He was right—you did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t change what he’d been putting you through. And just because he was scared of losing you didn’t mean he was ready to treat you the way you deserved to be treated.

“I don’t wanna lose you either,” you admitted, “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl you turn to when it’s convenient for you.”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the ground like he didn’t know what to say. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was finally realizing how badly he’d screwed this up.

You sighed, stepping back. “Look, I hope you figure your shit out. I really do. But I’m not sticking around to wait for that.”

You’d barely taken two steps when you heard him again, this time his voice quieter, almost desperate. “Wait—please. Just… don’t go.”

You paused, but you didn’t turn around. You were trying so hard to keep it together, to not let him see how badly this was wrecking you. Then he dropped the bomb.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sober.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned back around, eyes wide. “What?”

He looked at you like he was begging you to understand, to stay. “I’m serious. Since I stopped using…you’re the only thing that’s been helping me hold it together. You leaving—it’s gonna fuck me up. You know that.”

Your heart twisted, hard. Of course he’d pull this now. You stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 

“I’m not lying,” He insisted, taking a step closer. “I swear. I’m trying to do better. You’re the reason I haven’t gone back to that shit. You’ve always been the one to pull me out of it, and if you leave—”

“Stop,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re really trying to put this on me?” Your voice was rising, and you didn’t even care if people inside the party heard you. “You’re trying to make me responsible for you staying clean? Do you realize how fucked up that is?”

Rafe flinched, his expression shifting from desperate to defensive. “I’m just saying it how it is. You’ve helped me more than anyone else. You know that.”

“No,” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I’m not carrying that weight for you. That’s not fair, and you know it.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done. “You can’t just dump your problems on me and expect me to fix them. I’m not your therapist, and I’m definitely not your savior.” Your chest was heaving now, all the anger and hurt that had been building up for months finally spilling over. “You don’t get to use your sobriety as a leash to keep me here.”

His face fell at that, and for a split second, you saw a flash of guilt. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he said, though even he sounded unsure of his words now. “I just… I don’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t know what to do because you’ve never had to actually deal with the consequences of your actions,” you fired back. “You’ve always just said whatever you needed to say to keep people around. To keep me around.”

Rafe looked at you like he wanted to fight back, but the fight wasn’t there. Not this time. “That’s not what this is,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m glad you’re sober. I really am. But that’s not my responsibility. It never should’ve been.” You paused, feeling every word you were about to say. “If staying clean depends on me staying in your life, then you haven’t actually changed. You’ve just found a new addiction.”

He stared at you, and for the first time, he didn’t have a response. No cocky smirk, no empty promises. Just silence.

“I’m not gonna be your crutch anymore,” you said softly, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, painful sadness. “You need to get better for you, not for me. And if you can’t do that… then this was never gonna work anyway.”

Rafe’s shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeat in his eyes, like he was finally realizing that no matter what he said, this time you weren’t coming back.

“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

You blinked back the tears that were starting to sting your eyes. “You’ll figure it out."

He was on his knees before you realized. Literally.

Your eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Rafe, what the hell are you doing?”

He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just staring at the floor, hands running through his hair like he was about to lose it. “Please don’t leave. I’m begging you. I—I can’t… I don’t know what to do without you.”

You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Because maybe he had. What was this? You felt like you were watching some movie, except it was your life, and it wasn’t dramatic or romantic or whatever he thought it was. It was just… sad. And kind of terrifying.

“Get up.” Your voice wasn’t even loud—it was flat, emotionless. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore. “Rafe, seriously. Get the fuck up.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re all I’ve ever had, okay? Since we were kids, you’ve been the only person who’s ever stuck with me. Everyone else leaves. Everyone. But not you. You’ve always been there, no matter how much I’ve messed up.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut because, deep down, they were true. You had always been there. Through everything. The good, the bad, and the absolute worst. And maybe that’s why it hurt so damn much now—because he’d taken that loyalty, that friendship, and twisted it into something ugly and unrecognizable.

“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I seriously can’t believe you right now.” You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. “You think this is gonna fix everything? You think getting on your knees and saying some bullshit is gonna make me forget all the times you hurt me?"

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy, and it almost made your heart break. Almost. But you weren't going to fall for it anymore. “I didn’t mean to take you for granted. I just—I never thought you’d actually leave. You never left before.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” you snapped, “You always thought I’d stay, no matter how bad you treated me. You counted on it."

“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking. “I know I fucked up. But I’ll do anything to fix it. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please, just don’t go.”

You stared at him, the guy you’d known since forever, the one you’d stuck by when no one else did. The one you thought you could save, even though now you realized you couldn’t even save yourself when you were with him.

But this? Him on his knees? This wasn’t him fixing anything. This was him panicking, terrified that the one thing he’d taken for granted all these years was slipping away.

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to keep you alive. That’s on you. I’ve been there for you since we were six, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where that’s gotten us.”

His eyes were pleading, desperate, but you knew that if you stayed, this would keep happening. He would hurt you again, and you’d forgive him.

Because that’s what you did. That’s what you’d always done.

“I can’t keep being your safety net,” you whispered, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “You have to figure out who you are without me always picking up the pieces.”

He shook his head. “But I don’t know how.”

And that was the saddest part of all. He didn’t know how. He had no idea who he was without you constantly there to catch him when he fell. And you were tired of being the one holding him up while he pulled you down.

You took a deep breath, looking down at him—this broken, scared version of Rafe you never wanted to see.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “but this? This isn’t love. This isn’t healthy. This is you being afraid of losing control. And I’m not gonna let you use me to keep your shit together anymore.”

His eyes filled with tears, and for a second, your heart ached. Because yeah, you loved him once. Maybe you still did in some messed-up way. But love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.

“I hope you get better,” you said, taking a step back. “I really do. But I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

And for the first time in your life, you were the one to walk away.

[heeseungiez]

love letter | hyung line (0)

— a teaser

your whole life, you’ve only known one thing: relaying love letters. but what happens when one of those letters is addressed to you?

— pairings! heeseung x reader; jay x reader; jake x reader; sunghoon x reader

— featuring! enhypen members, haewon from nmixx, yuna from itzy and possibly other idols

— genre! romcom, high school au, found family, fluff with a tiny bit of angst (?)

— author’s note! i’ve really been loving family by choice so far and the whole love letters plot inspired this fic, sooo 🤭

— tags! open

check out my masterlist !!

“Here,” says a girl you recognise from your year. Jang Wonyoung holds up a carefully wrapped letter with cute drawings on the outside. It also smells very sweet and fruity, like lemon and peaches.

“To whom?” you ask automatically, grabbing the letter without studying it further. To you, it’s just another one on top of many, many more. 

“Park Sunghoon,” she replies, a giggle leaving her lips at the mere mention of the boy. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. It’s not that you don’t understand— okay, you don’t understand, actually. Sunghoon never shows any interest in any girls whatsoever, and yet they keep trying to approach him or give him love letters through you, and honestly, you’re tired.

“Fine. But I can’t guarantee he will read it nor respond to it nor that he won’t simply throw it away,” you say in a monotone because it’s an automatic response that leaves your lips every time you receive a letter. You might as well be considered a customer service worker — an office worker, really — with the way you deal with them. 

“I know. But thanks anyway.” Wonyoung smiles at you because realistically, she’s nice. From what you’ve heard about her, she’s great. So you’re a bit put off by the fact she’d show any interest in Park Sunghoon, of all people.

Sighing, you put the letter in a paper bag that has a sticker of a penguin on skates on it and Park Sunghoon’s name written right underneath. The bag has been with you for years by now. You made it back in fourth grade, probably, so it’s a miracle it still holds on. Especially because it’s already overflowing with letters from this morning.

Next to it, you glance at the other three bags. One with a sticker of a golden retriever and Sim Jaeyun in glittery letters, one with a black cat holding a knife and Park Jongseong written in cursive on it, and the last being a basketball sticker with the name LEE HEESEUNG in capital letters. 

This is what you get for befriending your neighbours, you guess. But seven-year-old you wanted to have older brothers, and seven-year-old you did not know that once you grow up, something like love and crushes would exist in your world. Until you did grow up, and you learned the hard way what it meant to be the so-called little sister of four decently looking boys. 

None of which have ever shown interest in anyone, ever, as far as you can tell. Or they simply haven’t told you anything about their love lives which, honestly, you prefer. It’s enough that you have to relay love letters to them, having to hear about them actually dating someone would be far worse. But somehow you doubt they’ve dated anyone — unless they’re much better at keeping secrets than you thought. Because the whole school would be taken by storm had anyone found out. Even if it was just the old janitor who found either one of them hiding in the broom closet with a girl, the whole school would know by the next day if not within the next hour. 

To put it simply, they’re popular.

Park Sunghoon, the figure skater whose entire life has been spent mainly on ice. People at school call him the ice prince for the obvious reasons, and the less obvious ones, where he just regards everyone as if they’re beneath him unless they’re his friends or, well… you.

Sim Jaeyun or Jake, the football prodigy and team captain who moved here from Australia and therefore has an Australian accent and is bilingual which, for some reason, girls love. He’s also the nicest person anyone could ever meet, so that might also be a factor. A golden retriever in human form, people say. The only reason you like him is because he’s been bribing you with snacks since middle school, though (said jokingly… maybe). 

Park Jongseong or Jay who, on the other hand, moved here from the United States and is known for his love of music and bands and guitars and the fact he can play the instrument. He’s in a band with some other guys from school, but you’re not all that familiar with them since Jay mostly keeps them away from you, for whatever stupid reason he’s made up about protecting you and whatnot.

And lastly, the oldest of the four, Lee Heeseung who is the basketball team captain and a huge nerd which girls also love? You’re half-convinced that if he were partially blind and had to wear glasses, the whole school would fall apart with the amount of people trying to catch a single glance of him. (Yes, he wears fake glasses sometimes, so maybe you’re speaking from experience.) He’s the guy you’d go to if you need help with school but he literally does not have any time in between his so-called game time, which is punished by death if interrupted, studying, and basketball practice. The only way to receive help with studying from Lee Heeseung is to either (1) study exactly what he is studying or (2) be you. 

Someone shoves another letter right in front of your face.

“Who?” you ask without looking up. But the letter is waved in front of your face with such violence that you roll your eyes, sigh, and look up. You’re met with the sight of one of your best friends, Kim Sunoo, whose cheeks must be hurting from how big his grin is.

“It’s not for them,” he says giddily, dropping the letter on your desk.

You study it for a second, noticing one glaringly obvious thing.

To: Y/N.

It’s addressed to you.

“Who gave this to you?” Your eyes widen as you turn to Sunoo with question marks in your eyes. But the boy shrugs, clueless.

“I have no idea. It wasn’t exactly given to me, you know. There was someone who just bumped into me without saying sorry or turning around, and they dropped this. So, obviously, I had to check what they dropped and well… it turned out to be a letter addressed to you,” Sunoo recalls the story, dramatically motioning with his hands to emphasise the whole scene.

You grin, staring at the letter.

“For me?” you ask yourself, your eyes fixated on the name written in neat handwriting.

“Open it,” Sunoo encourages you.

“Open what?” A new voice joins the conversation, and your smile grows even brighter at the sight of Yang Jungwon, your other friend, and class president.

“Look!” you say, grabbing the letter to wave it in front of his face. “I got a letter. Can you believe it? Me. Not the guys, but me.”

“Are you sure it’s real?” Jungwon asks sceptically, his eyes narrowed. “What if someone’s making fun of you?”

“Why are you so pessimistic?” Sunoo frowns, looking at Jungwon. “I think someone likes Y/N. It was about time, too. Her life needs to stop revolving about those four.” It’s not that Sunoo has anything against Heeseung, Jay, Jake or Sunghoon personally, but he’s not fond of how much time you spend doing things that are seemingly just for them. Like constantly dealing with their love letters. It seems that your entire existence at school is as the girl that talks to them.

“I’m not disagreeing, but still. It’s a bit weird that the letter came out of nowhere.” Jungwon shrugs, ending his point there. He connects his lips together in a thin line, and you know that he won’t argue any further.

“Should we maybe open it with Yuna and Haewon, too?” you ask, your eyes never leaving the letter. “We need more opinions.”

“At lunch?”

“At lunch.”

“Fine. But I’d still be careful.” Jungwon sighs, shaking his head. “If the person can’t give the letter directly to you, they’re not really worth it.” It’s funny how Jungwon just managed to indirectly attack every single girl that has ever made you relay a love letter without thinking much about it.

“You sound like Jay,” you point out anyway, making a face. Sunoo hums in agreement. 

“That’s not a bad thing.” Jungwon nudges your shoulder with a soft laugh.

[simplygojo]

Your Brother's Best Friend ⸺ Gojo

author's note ⸺ Hi all! I apologize for being offline for the holidday season, wanted to spend lots of time iwth my fam and give myself a big mental break from the online world haha..so I hope you guys enjoy this draft I have, someone requested this like bak on october but I can't find the request so if it was you LMK <3 pairing ⸺ Satoru Gojo x reader concept ⸺ You are Nanami's younger sister, because of that, the insufferably annoying and constantly present-Satoru Gojo-has always been a constant in your life. content ⸺ just some coming of age fluff, childhood crush, soulmates fr, don't forget gojo is insufferable, ur a bit insufferable too but ily, lmk if anyone wants a prt2, mt fuji reference bc I'm planning a Japan trip rn, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions

Satoru Gojo had always found himself intrigued by you. Being Nanami’s younger sister—only by a year, but a fact Gojo never let go—meant you were often around during their shared days at Jujutsu High. 

It had been impossible not to notice you, with your sharp wit and the way you matched Nanami’s sternness with a warmth and energy he seemed to lack.

Back then, Gojo’s fascination with you manifested in childish antics: hiding your books just to watch you search for them in exasperation, ruffling your hair as he towered over you with a cocky grin, and smirking when you called him an idiot. 

He relished every moment he could pull your attention from your studies or your brother, craving the fiery glint in your eyes when you were annoyed with him. 

Unlike the rest of the people in Gojo’s life, you weren’t part of Jujutsu society.

You couldn’t see curses, didn’t wield cursed energy, and, for the most part, seemed blissfully unaware of the world that surrounded your brother and his friends as you pursued your studies. 

Nanami had always insisted on keeping you far from it, which was just another thing Gojo couldn’t help but admire. 

You were grounded in a way the rest of them weren’t, so wonderfully normal amidst their chaos.

And you had this way of looking at him—not like the strongest sorcerer, not like the next great hope of Jujutsu society—but just like a guy who annoyed the hell out of you.

At first, it felt harmless. You were Nanami’s younger sister. Off-limits. Untouchable. The unspoken one Nanami had pulled from the very beginning. 

“Don’t even think about it, Gojo,” he’d once joked, though the steel in his voice had been unmistakable. That line, so clearly drawn by your older brother, was one Gojo thought he could respect.

However…Gojo wasn’t exactly known for adhering to rules, and over time, what started as a playful crush transformed into something far more real.

—

Gojo had really noticed the shift in how he saw you one lazy afternoon when you were both a little older, himself a second-year and Nanami now in first year. 

You’d stopped by Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High to drop off lunch for Nanami, a routine occurrence Gojo had witnessed more times than he could count.

And yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that day felt… different.

He spotted you from across the courtyard, standing near the steps with a neatly folded paper bag in hand. The sun hit you just right, its golden rays catching in your hair and making it shimmer. 

Gojo found himself frozen mid-step, watching as you leaned toward Nanami, laughing at something he’d said.

He felt his chest tighten, his usual cocky grin faltering as something entirely unfamiliar bubbled up inside him.

He’d seen you countless times before—bickering with Nanami, reading quietly under a tree, rolling your eyes when he teased you. But this was the first time he’d truly seen you, and it shook him more than he cared to admit.

Gojo brushed it off with his usual bravado. It’s nothing, he told himself. Just a fluke. A trick of the light. I’m Satoru freakin’ Gojo. I don’t get fazed by stuff like..like girls.

But the image of you standing there, radiant and laughing, stuck with him.

Later that day, Nanami caught him staring off into space, absently twirling a pen between his fingers.

“You’ve got that dumb look on your face again,” Nanami deadpanned, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence of the common room.

Gojo blinked, jolting out of his thoughts. “Huh? Dumb? I don’t do dumb looks,” he shot back, feigning nonchalance as he leaned back in his chair.

Nanami raised a brow, unimpressed. “Right…” He said, but didn’t press forward.

Gojo leaned back further in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to his dilemma. 

He’d never tell Nanami the truth—that he’d been so distracted by you. 

Because even though he’d brushed it off earlier, Satoru Gojo knew better. That moment in the courtyard wasn’t nothing. It was the beginning of a realization he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

—

By the time you and Gojo were in your late teens you had both become insufferable in your own ways. 

You–who was constantly studying and reading and cramming your head full of anything instead of living your life. And Gojo–whose ego was the size of Mt. Fuji and spoke 100 kilometres an hour. 

This specific night, Nanami had reluctantly invited Gojo over for dinner at your family’s house after the persistent pestering of his taller, louder classmate. 

Gojo, being Gojo, had made himself right at home, lounging on your family’s couch as if he owned the place. Your parents were out for the evening, and Nanami had resigned himself to the kitchen, grumbling about Gojo’s ability to eat an ungodly amount of food.

Dinner wasn’t ready yet, which left you and Gojo alone in the dining room as Nanami busied himself in the kitchen, muttering under his breath about Gojo’s bottomless appetite.

You’d been sitting at the dining table, flipping through a thick textbook, completely ignoring Gojo’s antics. Or at least, you had been, until Gojo sauntered over, leaned against the back of your chair, tipping it slightly, forcing you to glance up.

“You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that,” he teased, his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Do you ever not talk?” You replied, exasperation lacing your tone as you tilted your head to glare up at him.

“Rarely,” he shot back, before letting the chair fall back into place and taking a seat beside you at the table. “You’re really gonna spend the whole evening buried in those books?” He drawled, his voice a mix of amusement and boredom.

You didn’t bother looking up. “Not everyone has the luxury of being naturally insufferable and talented like you, Gojo.”

“Aw, you think I’m talented?” His grin was audible in his voice.

You finally lifted your gaze, levelling him with the flattest look you could muster. “Not what I said.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his chin propped up on one hand. The orange sunlight streaming through the window caught in his hair, making it gleam like spun silver. “Come on, y/n, live a little. You’re always so serious.”

“Not everyone can afford to ‘live a little,’” you muttered, your tone softer than before.

Gojo’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, before returning with renewed mischief. “Then it’s my civic duty to help you loosen up.”

Before you could stop him, he reached across the table and flicked the corner of your notebook. It slid a few inches down the table out of your reach, the pages fluttering slightly.

“Gojo,” you snapped, sitting up straighter.

“What?” His innocent tone was as fake as the wide-eyed look he gave you. “I’m just trying to help.”

You leaned over to grab the notebook, but Gojo was quicker. He snatched it up and held it above his head, just out of reach.

“Satoru,” you hissed, standing now, your chair scraping loudly against the floor.

He smirked, leaning back in his chair as he dangled the notebook higher. “What’s the magic word?”

“I’m not playing this game with you.”

You stepped closer, your hand reaching for the notebook, but Gojo shifted at the last second. In one smooth motion, he stood, towering over you with that infuriating smirk still plastered across his face.

“Wow, so short,” he teased, looking down at you with mock pity.

“I hate you,” you said, glaring up at him.

“Liar,” he shot back, his grin widening.

The room felt smaller now, the air warmer. You tried not to notice how close he was, how his presence seemed to fill every corner of the space.

“Just give it back,” you said, your voice quieter this time.

Gojo tilted his head, considering your request, but made no move to comply. 

Instead, he bent down slightly, just enough that your faces were almost level. His free hand braced against the edge of the table beside you, caging you in without even touching you.

“You really want it?” He asked, his tone low, teasing.

The words made your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. You reached for the notebook again, but he didn’t budge, his grin softening into something more unreadable.

And then you noticed it—his breath, warm and feather-light against your cheek. You were close enough to feel his breath.

The realization hit you all at once. Your skin burned where his breath lingered, and the heat crawled upward, spreading across your face and down your neck.

“Gojo,” you said, but it came out quieter than you intended, almost a whisper.

“What?” He murmured, his voice matching your softness now.

You didn’t answer, your mind too preoccupied with the way his gaze lingered on you, no longer playful but intense, searching.

His grin returned, but it was softer this time, almost shy. “You’re blushing, y/n,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, your gaze darting away as if the floor could save you from the warmth blooming across your face. 

“No, I’m not,” you mumbled, despite the obvious pink hue radiating from your cheeks.

Gojo chuckled, a low, quiet sound that only made your blush deepen. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

You felt your heart do a little flip and you spun around, turning your back to him and crossing your arms over your chest.

“No I’m not–You–” You said shortly, trying to make yourself seem more annoyed than flustered.

“What?” He drawled, his tone all lazy amusement. 

“I’m just making an observation.” His grin was practically audible as he tilted his head. “I mean, look at you. Bright red. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something? Or is it just me?”

You spun around so fast you almost knocked into him, your hands flying up to shove at his chest, but he barely budged. “You’re such a—”

“Careful now,” he interrupted, catching your wrists with ease. His grip was light but firm, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Wouldn’t want you to say something you can’t take back.”

Your glare faltered under his steady gaze, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking away. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he shot back smoothly, a smirk curling his lips. “It’s almost like you enjoy my company.”

“Well I don’t,” you snapped. “I’m not the one who invited you for dinner Gojo.” 

Gojo’s smirk widened, but he finally released your wrists, stepping back just enough to give you space—though not nearly enough to escape the heat of his presence.

“Hm, ya’know–you’re right,” he spoke slowly, his tone dripping with mock innocence as he turned toward the kitchen, hands sliding casually into his pockets. “I’ll try not to charm ya too much during dinner.”

You stood frozen, your cheeks still blazing and your heart racing as his footsteps faded. With a frustrated huff, you followed, vowing silently not to let him get under your skin again.

—

By the time you were in your early twenties, you had quietly come to terms with your crush on Satoru Gojo.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint why you liked him. Gojo had been a constant presence in your life since your young teenage years, and despite his insufferable arrogance and larger-than-life personality, there was a charm about him you couldn’t deny. 

He teased you relentlessly, always flashing that blinding smile that made your heart skip a beat.

But it wasn’t just the teasing or the jokes. It was the way he treated you differently, always going out of his way to check on you, lingering just a little longer than necessary whenever you were around.

Still, you convinced yourself it didn’t mean anything. Gojo was like that with everyone—or so you told yourself…It was safer that way.

That afternoon, you sat across from Utahime at your favourite coffee shop in the neighbourhood near the office you worked at, absently stirring your drink as she rattled on about her recent frustrations at work.

You tried to focus—nodding at all the right times, but your mind kept drifting.

“Are you even listening to me?” Utahime asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course I am,” you lied, forcing a smile.

“Uh-huh.” She sipped her coffee, then leaned back with a sigh. “You’ve been spacey lately. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you said too quickly, heat creeping up your neck. “Just tired, I guess.”

She gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further.

The bell above the café door chimed, and you glanced up instinctively—only to immediately wish you hadn’t.

There he was.

Gojo Satoru strolled in like he owned the place, his sunglasses pushed up into his snow-white hair and his hands stuffed casually into his coat pockets. He scanned the room, and the moment his eyes landed on you, his face lit up with a grin that sent your heart racing.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sinking lower in your seat.

Utahime’s gaze flicked between you and Gojo, her lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, this should be fun.”

“Don’t you start,” you warned.

Before she could respond, Gojo was already making his way toward your table, exuding his usual overconfidence.

“Ladies,” he greeted, pulling out the chair next to you without waiting for an invitation. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Gojo,” Utahime said dryly, her tone laced with disdain that only seemed to amuse him.

“Utahime,” he replied, his grin widening.

He turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly. “And you. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I could say the same to you,” you shot back, doing your best to sound indifferent despite the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

“Touché,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But I’d argue that seeing you is much more important than work.”

Utahime snorted, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Does that line actually work on people?” Utahime asked, sounding as unimpressed as ever.

Gojo shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Guess it depends on the person.”

The conversation moved on—or rather, Utahime and Gojo bickered while you quietly sipped your drink, pretending not to notice the way Gojo kept stealing glances at you.

Then, out of nowhere, he said it.

“So,” Gojo began, his tone deceptively casual as he put one hand on the back of your chair, causing it to tilt back a bit, “what are you doing tonight?”

You froze, your mind racing as your eyes left their place on your coffee and found his. “Why?”

“Because I want to take you out,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Dinner. Just the two of us.”

Your jaw nearly hit the table. Surely, you’d misheard him.

Utahime, on the other hand, choked on her coffee.

“Excuse me?” You managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me,” Gojo said, his grin softening into something almost... hopeful. “What do you say?”

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. You’d spent years convincing yourself that Gojo didn’t see you that way—that his teasing was just his personality, nothing more. But now, staring into those piercing blue eyes, you couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his expression.

Before you could answer, Utahime broke the silence. “Oh my god,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What?” You asked, still reeling.

“I can’t do this…this has been obvious to everyone but you,” she said, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“He’s been obsessed with you for years, and you’re just now realizing it?”

Your face turned scarlet as you stammered, “That’s—that’s not true.”

Gojo, to his credit, looked thoroughly amused. “See? I knew I liked you for a reason, Utahime. It is totally 100% true.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” she said, waving him off before standing up and leaving some cash beside her empty mug. “I’m leaving before this gets any worse. Good luck, Gojo—you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” he called after her, clearly enjoying himself.

Once Utahime was gone, you turned back to Gojo, your mind still spinning. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” he asked, his tone unusually serious.

You searched his face for any sign of mischief, but there was none. Just that same unwavering confidence and something else—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “One dinner.”

Gojo’s grin returned full force, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t joking.

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom (Chapter 1)]

What was I made for?

TW: Mentions of Death, PTSD, ED, SH, Neglect

Masterlist

🎵Thumbs- Sabrina Carpenter🎵 🎵What was I made for?- Billie Ellish🎵

On my first day of staying here, I was excited to see if I had brothers.

Dick the oldest, supposed to be there for me, and pose as a role model right? WRONG, he instead leaves me on read when I text him. The fucker has enough guts to ignore me, and when he notices me, it's when I either get in trouble at school, or when his teamates talk to me. He had time to look after Bludhaven.

Tim, one of the family's detectives, doesn't find me interesting, and thinks of himself too big to talk to a lowlife like me. AND WE LIVE IN THE SAME FUCKING HOUSE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. With him, I have little to no memories. All he does is twiddle his thumbs, pretending I wasn't there.

Cass, Steph, Barb. I never really cared bout' them, all they do is talk shit about others, and play daddy's little girl. I was never daddy's little girl and I never complained. Not much to really talk about with them, I even learned ASL just for some light communication.

Jason, alright, I'mma be honest here. He was the closest thing I had to a brother, but he only came to the house at night for some food and rest. The best memory with him, was him taking me to school on the first day, I joined grade 5 class because I have an IQ of 190. Everything was great until he died, a part of me died with him.

Damian, the "golden apple" of this whole shit hole. This bitch thinks that he can do anything, because he is the bastard of Bruce Wayne, and Talia Al Ghul. He gets to train with Dick, while I watch them train to become a "hero". He bullied me even when I was a year older than him. Ughh, what a bitch. He was the reason I got the name Jinx, I was the bad luck of the family

Bruce, the man had the guts to adopt me and change my true name to a wayne. I was named Xerxes because it meant warrior, my dad never thought I was one. I'm not even allowed to call him dad.

Alfred, oh sweet innocent Alfred. I considered him as my father when my mother's "sperm donor", couldn't be there for me. He was there to teach me how to bake and cook, the best part was that he never admonished me for my bad behavior at school.

For 4 years I had lived with them, every night I had prayed for a miracle to happen. At night the same dream, every morning, the same nightmare. After the first 5 months of my stay, I started to avoid eating, because of depression.

And before I go to bed I looked for any blade I could, and locked myself in my bedrooom. I cut myself below the wrist, while keeping a first aid nearby. I never felt any pain from the wounds, but I felt the scar in my heart.

It's ironic how a whore with nothing, could love a child more, than a family that has everything. I always laughed at the idea, I never allowed myself to cry or show weakness. Bruce never knew how to deal with emotions anyway, so why cry?

I never cried, when Damian slashed my arm with a knife. Not when Barbara told me to go to hell, not when Tim destroyed the birthday present I made for him. And especially when Bruce called me a mistake. I only cried when Jason was murdered by the Joker.

I always thought crying was useless, so I worked hard. I got straight A's, I made friends, I enlisted for multiple sports when I turned 10. I even took up art just for the sake of fitting in.

But I will always be the Wayne pushed from the spotlight. Not even then, could I cry.

I just went to my dilapidated bedroom, God, it was ornamented with all of my awards and certificates. I started to pack my stuff, I even took the photo of me and my mother. There wasn't much to pack, all I got were hand me downs, and the dregs of my "beloved siblings."

At night, it was the perfect time to escape, with the villains on the loose, they had to take night shifts. So I slowly climbed out of my window and placed the note I had prepared for Alfred. And I prepared to go to the abyss that awaits me...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N Hiii... I got this idea from reading @acid-ixx, and @luludeluluramblings... I'm making a seperate part for the note Jennifer gave Alfred. HOPE U LUV THIS <333

[mochroialainn]

Despite everything

Title: Despite Everything Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Characters: Sebastian Sallow x reader Plot: Despite everything he did, despite everything he said to you, the months of pain caused he caused you. Some part of you still saw the good, saw the kind and the caring and the protective. Most of all you still saw the hurt and the pain he suffered, so despite everything you gave him back the one thing he loved most in the world. His sister . Themes: Angst, hurt/comfort Warnings: Asshole Sebastian, mild hurt/comfort, love confessions, fem!reader. Word count: 6,769 Notes: This is based in 7th year, all characters are ages up to 18. I also have yet to finish the game, so please excuse any errors! This also got very out of hand very quickly and I apologise for the length

Golden light filtered through the windows of the Sallow home in Feldcroft illuminating everything inside in a warm honey glow that gave Anne a feeling of hope as she watched the person who had slowly became her best friend over the past year and a half, fiddle with her wand, twirling it between her fingers and twisting and turning it absentmindedly as her eyes scanned over the piece of parchment in her hands. 

It was an unlikely friendship, but one that was true and ran deep. It was a friendship built on trust and love and seeing every part of the other. For too long all people saw in Anne was her illness, the dreadful curse that had taken over her life too long. They pittied her and feared her at the same time, they didn’t want the same thing to happen to them and even though it wasn’t contagious people tended to stay clear of her. But [name] wasn’t like that, she saw Anne wholly for who she was. She saw her as a person rather than her illness, 

She saw the Anne that many thought was lost the day she was cursed, she saw the daring adventurous girl she once was. [Name] always revelled in reading and hearing the stories of Anne and Sebastian when they were children, their mischieviousness and the trouble they would get into, she proclaimed one day that Anne and Sebastian were probably the reason Solomon had grey hairs, causing the two girls to fall into a fit of giggles. 

And Anne saw [name] as more than the Hero of Hogwarts, she saw past the facade of strength and courage to see the crumbling girl beneath who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. The girl who was suddenly whisked into a world of magic and was the only one with the power to stop it from crumbling. She saw the vulnerability and the fear hidden deep below the mask. But she also saw the kindness and the protectiveness, saw it in the way she spoke of her friends. Of Ominis and Sebastian and how she would have burned the world to the ground if anything were to happen to them, and those two boys were the most important people in her life and as soon as she saw how [name] cared for them she was quickly added to the list. 

Since their initial meeting, the girls had sent each other countless owls back and forth and [Name] would visit Anne any time she could, though her visits became less frequent towards the end of their 5th year. Anne had asked about in her letters, saying she missed [Name] and even tried to sweeten it by saying that even Solomon missed her because he loved the way Anne’s eyes would light up anytime [Name] was around and he was happy she had a friend like her. Something had changed,she just didn’t know what and though [Name] never divulged the information she had a feeling it was to do with her stubborn, hard-headed brother who couldn’t see a good thing if it him in the face with same force as a bludger. 

It was during the summer of their sixth year that Anne finally pulled the information from Ominis who had come to see her and Sebastian. Sebastian and Solomon had gone off to do some shopping, the pair slowly mending bridges together, and Anne had asked Ominis about [Name]. She had noticed the way he fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling on his sleeves and chewing on hislips nervously. After much pestering from Anne’s side, Ominis had finally relented and told her what happened. 

About her working with a goblin and Sebastians reaction, him calling her ignorant and icing her out as if she had never meant anything to him. To how he was treating her like she meant nothing to him, like she didn’t even exist. And Anne swore if she could she was going to beat her brother black and blue because she was simply the best thing to ever happen to him. Ominis had sensed her getting worked up, the tension and heat in the room rising, and he had let her know that Imelda Reyes already landed a punch on Sebastian that landed him in the hospital wing with a broken nose and Gareth Weasley had accidentally spilled a potion on him that made him smell like sour milk for 2 whole weeks. That had got a chuckle out of her and Ominis promised to tell [name] that she should come visit and that was enough for Anne. 

So [Name] did just that, she and Ominis conspired with Anne and Solomon to have her go over when Sebastian wasn’t around so the girls could talk. It was during one of these visits that [Name] revealed she hadn’t stopped looking for something to help Anne, even if she couldn’t find a cure she wanted to find something that could illviate the pain and make it so Anne could return to Hogwarts. Anne was gobsmacked when she said it, not wanting her to loose herself in the dark magic the same way Sebastian had. 

That was when [name] explained to Anne that she wasn’t going anywhere near dark magic ever again, her use of it had left her scarred and broken and she was still putting herself back together with the help of her friends, and she revealed her connection to ancient magic and how she could wield it. She told her of Isidora taking the pain away from her father and how Sebastian had damn near lost her mind when she refused to do it. She explained to Anne she simply didn’t know enough, she had seen what happened to Isidora and those she claimed to help by taking away their pain and she was not prepared to take Anne out of one torment to throw her straight into another. She had to study it more and she didn’t care how long it took but she would find a way to help Anne that didn’t involve dark magic or Isidora’s method. 

[Name] always kept Anne informed of her research, telling her what she had learned and the progress she had made even if she was only half a step closer, she also told her stories of Hogwarts and the spells they were learning how the more she researched healing the more she wanted to become a healer. This continued for over a year, the two becoming best friends and sneaking around Sebastian but never mentioning him, both recognising the pain he had caused [Name], and to now. 

It was two weeks before the end of summer and [name] returning to Hogwarts for the 7th and final year. She had spent most of her summer researching and working and perfection and finally, finally she found the last bit she needed and as soon as she had confirmation from Anne that Sebastian was out of their home and would be gone for a few hours she used floo powder to travel to the Sallow home where had been pacing and re-reading for the last hour as Anne watched on amusedly, hope blooming in her chest. 

Finally [Name] folded the parchment that had been in her hand up and returned it to her pocket and faced Anne with a smile. “Are you ready?”

Anne nodded and whispered a quiet “yes” just loud enough to [Name] to hear, but it was all she needed to hear. If Anne was ready, so was she. She stood beside Anne’s bed, the point of her wand nearly touching her hair line, she spoke a soft encatation the tip of her wand glowing blue, the familiar surge of ancient magic flowing through her and making her feel feather light. 

Moving the wand slowly down Anne’s forehead a trail of light followed from the first point, she stopped at point below between Anne’s eyebrows she repeated the incantation again and another pool of light followed as she repeated the steps again moving her wand down Anne's body, stopping at her throat, the center of her chest just slightly right of her heart, at the base of her strernum, at her belly button, and finally at her feet, the trail of light following the path. 

Once she finished the last incantation, he moved her wand once again, placing it directly above Anne’s heart a repeated another incantation this one different can causing the magic to spread out around Anne until every inch of her body was covered in the brilliant blue of ancient magic. The tip of [Name]’s wand dug into the soft flesh of Anne’s chest, not hard enough to cause pain but enough for it to be felt and for her to control the magic working its way through Anne’s body with a lot more precision and she closed her eyes. 

It was an intense feeling, being able to move and see the magic rolling  through someone's body. Being able to locate the curse that had buried itself deep inside Anne. She found it quite quickly, seeing it as dark, throned vines that had twisted itself around Anne’s nervous system and rooted right in her heart. Slowly, [Name] started untangling the vines using her magic to weaken their grip on Anne’s body, pulling them away and covering them in the light of ancient magic causing them to wither and wilt away, she started with the vines twisted around ther nerves slowly killing them all before moving on to the organs and then the muscles and finally to the root of the dark magic lodged inside her heart. This one was a little trickier and required a lot more care and patience, slowly she pulled at the roots, pulling them out one by one and killing them until only one remained and then until none remained. 

Slowly, she opened her eyes and and removed her wand from Anne’s chest, the light at the end extinguishing as the ancient magic around Anne faded. The golden light that had been shining in the room previously had gone, now the room was illuminated in a silver hue the full moon outside the window shining on the two girls and providing the only light in the room. 

“How do you feel?” [Name]’s voice was soft, exhaustion making its home in her body as her muscles started to feel heavy and her brain started to fog. She knew the magic would take it out of her, knew it would leave her exhausted but she wouldn’t let Anne see that, she would only worry [Name] had done too much at once and fuss over her. 

“I feel… good.” Anne smiled, the pain she usually felt gone, the tension in her muscles easing. Breathing was easier and her chest felt light for the first time in years, she took a deep breath and reveled in the fact that it didn’t hurt. A smile quickly came to her lips as she sat herself up, back leaning against the headboard, tears pricked at her eyes as the joy took over and she couldn’t help but let a few slips past and a joyous laugh feel from her lips. [Name] started tearing up as well, reaching out to take Anne’s hand as she mumbled out ‘thank yous’ between the tears. 

“What are you doing here?” An angry voice cuts through the sobs of Anne and causes both girls to whip their head to the door to see Sebastian standing here his face red and nostrils flared as he glared directly at [Name]. The girls eyes widened as she stood in shock, she knew there was always a risk he would come home but she thought she had enough time to leave before he did but the spell must have took much longer than she thought. She wanted to apperate out there and then, to disappear and not face the angry face of the boy she still cared so deeply for despite everything. Beside him Ominis stood, his hand outstretched across Sebastians chest to stop him from charging forward. 

“Sebastian…” Ominis’ voice was a stern. It was a warning to his friend not to do anything stupid or in anger. Sebastian simply growled in response placing his hand on Ominis’ and pushing his friends hand away as he stalked towards [Name].He was taller than her now, she remember being able to look him in his eyes in 5th year but he had shot up in 6th year and now he towered over her, eyes cold and harsh as he glared. 

“What.are.you.doing.here?” His voice was harsher than his glare, the sound of it actually struck fear into [Name]’s heart as she strugged to come up with a response. The exhaustion had fully sank in now, her muscles were giving in on her and she could feel her legs shaking, barely holding her weight up and her head felt like it had been submerged underwater and everything seemed so far away and so close all at once. Her chest constricted, breathing hard to do as every breath felt like a sharp pain. Her body was starting to shut down, she needed to rest and if she didn’t leave soon she was going to collapse. 

Anne’s hand left hers and instead grabbed Sebastians, drawing his gaze away from [Name] just in time as she tumbled slightly backwards. Anne saw it happened from her periphery, the way [Name] was struggling to standing and seemed to sway from side to side, but she knew she needed to calm Sebastian down before she could help her friend.Sebastian’s glare softened slightly when he turned to his sister and the hand she wasn’t holding closed over the top of hers in comfort. “Sebastian, she was helping me. She found a cure.”

Sebastians eyes widened at her words, the harshness melting away and making room for shock instead as his eyes darted between Anne and [Name]. “What?” His words caught in his throat,a lump forming and stopping any more words from coming out as he eyed his sister up and down and reached out to cup her cheek and rub it gently with his thumb. Anne nodded her head as a confirmation that it was true, “I’m cured Sebastian.” 

That was the last thing [Name] heard before she hit the floor, the exhaustion finally taking over her body and rendering her unconscious. Ominis jumped at the sound, eyes immediately landing on the spot where [Name] had fallen, his hand was in his hand leading him to hear before Sebastian could even mutter a word or get close to her. His hands were gentle as he felt for her arm, fingers moving slowly down until he reached her wrist he pressed into it gently a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he felt the her pulse. “Sebastian, go get Solomon.” 

Sebastian nodded and released Anne’s hand and face, rushing down to get his uncle. Anne slowly moved from her place on the bed, so used to being careful with her body to join Ominis on the floor and placing [Name]’s head in her lap as she ran a hand through her hair gently and placed her forehead against hers as a silent thank you for what she had done through she knew [Name] couldn’t feel it. Sebastian and Solomon quickly returned, Solomon’s shock of seeing Anne up and not in pain quickly being replaced with mild panic at the sight of the unconscious witch in her lab. 

“We need to get her to a healer, now”. 

༺═────────────═༻

When [Name] awoke she was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, Matron Blainey standing over her with wand in hand as she did some basic checks on her body. “Ah, look who’s awake” 

“Matron Blainey? How did I get here?” Confusion clouded [Name]’s mind, the last thing she remembered was Sebastian towering over her, his icy glare piercing through her entire body. It hurt to try and remember anything else, she tried to sit up but Matron Blainey placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head gently.

“You’re exhausted dear, you’ve been unconscious for two days. Solomon Sallow brought you in alongside a very healthy looking Anne Sallow who explained you had used ancient magic to cure her.” [Name] lay back down, head hiting the pillow with a soft ‘thump’ as she out an exacerbated sigh, she hated being confined to a bed and not being able to move. More than that she wanted to see Anne and make sure she was still okay. Matron Blainey placed a hand atop her forehead as she continued speaking, “the magic you used exhausted you and caused you to collapse in the middle of Anne’s bedroom. Solomon tried to find a healer in Feldcroft but they were of gathering supplies and so he apperated you here, he was just lucky I was doing some final checks before the new school year started” 

[Name] nodded her head gently, the movement causing immense pain in her head as her body finally registered the aches flowing through it, including the migraine that was now blaring right behind her head. “And Anne?” Matron Blainey took out a wiggenweld potion and gently had [Name] drink it, “For the pain” 

She capped the empty potion bottle before turning back to the station beside the bed and lifting a hot towel and laying it gently against [Name]’s head. “She’s good, I checked her over myself and she seems to be in tip-top shape thanks to you. In fact I believe they are currently speaking to Professor Black about her returning to Hogwarts after the summer.” A smile broke out onto [Name]’s lips which Matron Blainey returned, “Now rest. Your parents have been informed of what has happened but I want to keep you here for observation for a bit longer”

Relief filled [Name]’s body, it had worked and Anne was okay with that, she closed her eyes and feel into a deep slumber. 

༺═────────────═༻

[Name] spent 3 more days in the hospital wing, most of it she spent sleeping and recovering under the careful eye of Matron Blainey who informed she had quite a few visitors, Anne for one was coming almost daily alongside Ominis and they spoke to her as she slept. Talking about how excited Anne was to get back to Hogwarts and how she would have extra assignments to do to catch up, she might have to do an extra year to complete bother her O.W.L.S and her N.E.W.T.S but she didn’t mind as long as she was back. Matron Blainey told her Ominis usually just watched Anne talk but joined in occasionally mostly just to vent about his summer had been terrible with his family and catching up with Anne. She had also said Solomon had visited a few times and when asked about the flower at her bedside, the matron had informed her that Sebastian had left them it was beautiful bouquet of blue hyacinths and daffodils. 

[Name] was shocked Sebastian had came, he hadn’t spoke to her in over a year and a half and openly spoke bad about her to friends, berating her and undermining her skills and efforts and yet here he was visiting her and leaving flowers. When Matron Blainey commented on the blue hyacinths and daffodils being an unusual combination, [Name] had simply replied, “In the language of flowers, blue hyacinths are a symbol of remorse and sincerity and daffodils mean forgiveness and hope” 

The flower choice was deliberated, Sebastian knew [Name] had a small fascination with the language of flowers and had spent time in her 6th year learning it with Professor Garlick, she assumed he had gone to either her or Ominis for advice on the flowers to use. But she appreciated the sentiment all the same. Matron Blainey had simply nodded her head and commented that he must be trying to apologise for something incredibly bad if he was going to such length. Though she didn’t verbalise it, [Name] definitely thought ‘you can say that again’. 

After the 3rd day in the Hostpial Wing, [Name] was allowed to return home and get ready for the upcoming school year, it was only a week and a half away after all. Her parents fussed over her a little, making sure she was okay before scolding her softly for beingso reckless with such a powerful spell and then they told her how proud they were of her for what she did. 

The week and a half leading up to school was uneventful, she got owls from Imelda, Poppy, Garteth and Anne about the upcoming year and she answered them all as quickly as she could. She was excited to start the new year, learning new spells and polishing up all her other spells and skills but yet one thing niggled in the back of her mind, a constant thought that never seemed to disappear no matter how hard she tried to push it away. That thought was simply Sebastian Sallow. 

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do about the curly haired boy. She had loved him since 5th year, even after he called her ignorant and began ignoring her. Began speaking bad of her to anyone who would listen, he had broke her with that. She thought he had cared about it, at one point thought he loved her like she loved him but that didn’t seem to be the case. And then he goes and sends her a bouquet of forgiveness and turned her mind upside down once again with thoughts of him. Whatever thoughts she had of him and wanting to forgive him though were pushed to the side, she had spoke to Imelda and Poppy in her letters about what happened and they both had the same sentiment that flowers were not enough and an apology and they would want more, well Imelda would want him to beg for forgiveness while Poppy would want more of a show of remorse and though she might not agree with how they want the forgiveness to be asked for, she agreed he need to earn her forgiveness and the flowers were simply not enough for him breaking her heart. So as she boarded the Hogwarts express, she pushed all thoughts of him to the side and joined her friends in a carriage to have a proper catch up of what they did over the summer. 

༺═────────────═༻

It was two weeks into the new term and Sebastian still hadn’t made a move to properly apologise to [Name], instead he just stared longingly at her across the tables in the Great Hall and in classes watching as she laughed and smiled with her other friends, with Gareth Weasley. The sight of the red-head making her laugh filled him with jealousy, jealousy that was undeserved mind you and he knew it. He knew he had no right to be jealous,[Name]  wast his and she never was  no matter how much his heart called out to her . He was the one that pushed her away, he was the one who couldn’t see past his anger and his stubbornness to see she was only trying to help and by the time that word got to him that it was Rockwood who had cursed Anne and not goblins it was too late, the damage was already done. He didn’t think there was anything he could say now that could make her forgive him, even if Matron Blainey had told him she adored the flowers and took them home with her, somewhere deep in his mind told him she would never forgive him and that part of him always won over the side that told him to at least try. 

A ‘smack’ to the back of his head brought him out of reprieve and he turns to his sister in shock, eyes wide and a look of ‘what the fuck was that for’ flitted accross his face. Anne simply huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and she stared at her brother incredously, “You can’t be serious?”  

The look of shock turned to a questioning one as he looked at his sister, “What?” Beside Anne, sat Ominis who rolled his eyes at his friends denseness, the action was almost in synch with Anne’s as she face palmed and rolled her own eyes. “You are such a dumb ass Sebastian Sallow”

“What for?” Sebastian knew he did a lot of stupid things, a lot, but he genuinely did not know what his sister was talking about until she motioned towards [Name] and raised an eyebrow, “You still haven’t talked to her?”

Anne knew he hadn’t, [Name] had told her as much the night before as she, [Name], and Imelda sat in around the fire in their dorm rooms gossipping. Imelda made a comment about how he didn’t deserve forgiveness anyway which caused the other two girls to roll their eyes, Anne knew where Imelda was coming from. She knew [Name] didn’t solely rely on her for female friendship and Sebsatian was her brother so she didn’t want to bring her problems about him to Anne and Imedla had stayed up many nights holding a crying [Name] in her arms as she got through the heartbreak that was loosing Sebastian Sallow, she was the one who helped her pick up the pieces of her broken heart and slowly glue it back together. 

But Anne knew her brother, knew he wanted to apologise. Wanted to fix things. He was just stupid and stubborn and an absolute fool when it came to manners of the heart. Sebastian cast his eyes down to his hands, fingers fiddling together as he avoided Anne’s intense gaze and shook his head. It was strange to see him so demure, so shy, he was usually so confident about everything. Thats when Anne knew he didn’t know what to do. 

She let out a sigh and dropped her hand to his, prompting him to look up at her through his eye lashes, “Just tell her how you feel Sebastian before you loose your chance.” As she said that, his eyes looked up at your again just in time to see Gareth tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and subtly glance down at your lips as if he wanted to kiss you. A pit formed in Sebastians stomach, the jealousy now turning into something tangible and real and dangerous, he couldn’t loose you. Not to Weasley, not to anybody. He stood from his spot at the table quickly, and abruptly stormed out of the room the dramatics of his actions drawing attention from the other slytherins near him. 

“What’s gotten into him?” Imelda asked as she eyed his back, Ominis’ simple response was “he finally grew a pair” causing a chuckle to leave the mouths of the surrounding slytherins, including Anne. 

༺═────────────═༻

A haggard sigh slips through [Name]’s slips as she walked into her dorm room, the light of the lanterns illuminating the space in such a way it feels homely and welcoming, it's a comfort of a home away from home to come back to at thend of a long school day, Imelda sits on her bed, booked surrounding her as she studies and scribbles away on her parchment. It seemed the only time the quidditch captain and prefect had to study as in the early morning dawn before the sun even kissed the sky before quidditch practive  and at dusk as the moons silvery moon starts to illuminate the black lake in an etheral light before she has to attend her prefect duties. She glances up at [Name] briefly offering a small smile and pointing to the other girls bed with her head, “There’s something on your bed”

Confused, [Name] turns towards her bed and walks towards it cautiously afraid one of the other slytherins had got the wrong idea and thought she was an easy target for a prank. Instead of an ill-fated prank on her bed there is a bouquet of flowers, a plain velvet box and a note. Her fingers trail over the bouqert gently, this one is fuller than the one at the hospital wing full of wisteria (her favourite flower), carnations, and tulips. She smiles gently and lifts the bouquet, taking a smell of the flowers and letting out a content smile. The flowers were symbolic once again, wisteria is associated with long life and love, carnations meant deep affectionate love, and the red tuplips were usually conveyed that a person was your one true love. 

Conjuring a vase, she places the flowers inside them as her heart hammers inside her chest, feelings she thought long forgotten bubbling to the surface as she turns back to her bed and lifts the velvet box and opens it. She gasps gently as she pulls out a gold chain with a beautiful moissante heart, she turns it over in her hands admiring the beauty and craftsmanship of the piece and an inscription catches her eye, ‘tuum in aeternum’, her heart beat quickens once again as her latin lessons finally come in handy as she quickly translates the phrase in her mind to ‘yours forever’. 

Tears start forming in her eyes as she places the necklace back in its box and slips it into her pocket before reaching for the note, its simple and reads ‘im sorry. Please meet me in the undercroft tonight at 12 - S.S’. She lets out a shuttering breath and blinks the tears back, she didn’t know what to expect if she went. Didn’t know how she would react to him. To speaking to him again, with the way her heart was beating and how touch she was at the gifts he gave her she didn’t know if she could stop herself from immediately throwing herself into his arms. 

Imelda’s voice pulls her out of her rolling thoughts, “Who’s it from?”

Clearing her throat, she turns to Imelda and looks back down at the card her voice coming out as barely a whisper, “Sebastian…” Imelda doesn’t ask for more information, she knows she doesn’t have to instead she just raises and eyebrow and waits for her friend to continue, “He wants to meet tonight at 12.”

At this Imelda rolls her eyes and placed her quill down, she was going to chastise her friend for breaking curfew and going back to Sebastian when he didn’t deserve it but the look on [Name]’s face as she stared at the small piece of paper has her biting her tongue. She see’s the hope in her eyes that this might be their chance at reconciliation, that they could make up and she sees the love there as well. The love her friend had pushed so far down inside of her Imelda worried she had stopped herself from feeling the motion ever again and she lets out a sigh. “Let me know what corridor you need clear and I’ll keep the other prefects away”

༺═────────────═༻

[Name] would have to thank Imelda a million times over for this, she knew her friend didn’t hold Sebastian in high regard after everything that had happened in 5th year and she still held the memory of Imelda turning round and socking him right in the nose when she heard him speak badly of [Name] for the first time. It shows that Imelda cared, despite how prickly she could be. As Imelda promised, the corridor leading to the UnderCroft was clear, giving her a clear path without the risk of any prefect seeing through her disillusionment charm. Standing before the entryway to the UnderCroft [Name] takes a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves bundling up inside of her and turning her stomach into knots. 

After removing her disillusionment charm, she  takes a few before she feels fully confident in going down and as she descends her hands roughly card through her hair and they start picking at the skin around her nails in nervousness. They let out another shuddering breath as the doors open to the UnderCroft, their heart feels like it's about to beat out of their chest as they take the first step out and the knots in their stomach seems to deepen to the point that they feel nauseous and that feeling only intensifies when she see’s Sebastian leaning against on the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest and his head facing the ceiling, eyes closed in contemplation. 

He looked so handsome, he had always been handsome but something about him was different. She realised she hand’t really looked at him since that day in 5th year, after all she had been avoiding him, but his jawline had gotten sharper and there was an air of maturity around him that she hadn’t seen before. She knew he was taller, he had towered over her in the Sallow home in Feldrcoft after all, but he was broader too. He had well and truly grown into himself and he was so devestaingly handsome it almost killed her. 

His eyes opened and his head snapped towards her, his gaze was piercing but not the way it was in his home. Then it was full of anger and it had scared it. This time, it was different. It was as if he was looking right through her, like he was staring straight into her very being and could see how nervous she was. His eyes also held something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on but it was gentle and kind and as his gaze went over her entire body she felt like she was being draped in warmth and comfort, the same kind of feeling she got on a stormy day and she wrapped herself up in blankets with hot chocolate and a good book. 

She takes a step closer to him and he does the same, they stay silent as their eyes take each other in fully for the first time in a year and a half. Sebastian wasn’t the only one who changed, she had too. She had changed her hair style, courtesy of Poppy’s advise, and it shaped her face beautiful and accentuated her features, the shape of her eyes, the slope of nose, the plumpness of her lips and he wanted to reach out and kiss her. And though she didn’t grow quite as tall as he did, she had grown some and with that growth came other changes that he would be ashamed to admit he noticed, the plumpness of her hips and thighs, it made her hip dips more noticeable and made her look even more beautiful. 

He would never admit it to anyone, he barely admitted it to himself but he had spent many nights dreaming of how her body would feel in his hands, her silk skin against his and her bare thighs pressing against his, her bare chest pressing against his. He had spent many sleepless nights fantasising about having her because he believed it would never really happen. 

They take a few more steps towards each other until their standing toe to toe, they stand in silence for a bit the only sound being their breathing and they don’t move, they simply bask in each others presence. Sebastian is the first to move, he takes one of her hands in her own and presses a gentle kiss to knuckles before muttering “You’re absolutely beautiful.” 

Blush quickly seeps over [Name]’s face, dusting her cheeks rosy pink, “And I am an absolute fool.” His other hand comes up to cup at her cheek and he rubs gentle circles into the apple of hit as he continues, “I couldn’t bear the thought of loosing you to goblins. Of falling into their schemes and traps I thought you were abandoning me for them, I thought you had given up on me.” 

A sad smile form on [Name]’s face as she reached her own hand up to cup the one Sebastian has on her cheek, “I never would have abandoned you Sebastian”

“I know. But I’m stubborn and hardheaded and a complete and utter asshole.I felt betrayed and I was hurt and angry and I thought by hurting you I would hurt less. I thought if I could convince you to hate me it would be easier for me to hate you for betraying me. But it wasn’t.”

He lets out a shuttering breath, his words soft as he speaks them. Almost as if someone else will here them and his words are only means for you, “It was the hardest damn thing I ever had to do. Acting like I hate you. Like I hated the ground your walked one, when in actuality I wanted to worship it. I wanted to worship you.” 

[Name] turns her head slightly and kisses the palm of the hand holding her cheek, urgin him to continue, “You are simply amazing, a powerful witch in your own right who could kick my ass in a duel anytime. But you are also sweet, and kind and compassionate, you are the most courageous peson I know and you protect and care for those you love. You are better than I am in every way and I am so undeserving of you and your love. But I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. I have loved you since your first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when you kicked my ass in your first every duel, that was the day I gladly ripped my heart and placed it in your hands for safekeeping and I thank Merlin every second of every minute of every hour or day that you decided not to crush it. My heart is and always be your eternally”

“Tuum in aeternum” [Name]’s whisper is soft and finally she recognises the look in his eyes, the one that felt like warmth and comfor and home, it was love. Sebastian always kept a mask on, acting cool and collected and calm, his true emotions rarely shining through his carefully built facade to keep people from getting too close, but for her, for her, he dropped the mask and his walls he had built to keep his emotions to himself were crumbling before her very eyes. 

His eyes brightened at the recognition of the phrase and he can’t stop his excitement seeping through, “You got the necklace?”

[Name] nodded her head and pulled the velvet box from her pocket and opened it, the moissonite twinkling below the torches in the UnderCroft. “I did. Will you help me put it on?” He quickly nods and she hands him the box as she turns and pulls her hair out of the way, his hands are gentle as he places the necklac against her chests and clasps it at the back of her neck. She turns back to him and cups his face gently in her hands. 

“Despite everything, despite the pain you put me through this past year and a half, I still and always will love you Sebastian Sallow. My heart has been yours since you took the fall for me with Scribner. I have seen the dark sides of you but I have also seen the light.I have seen the kind and caring person you are, how much you love and care for Anne and Ominis and how you would burn the world down to protect them. You are not wholly bad Sebastian, you are good too and you are deserving of love and more. I am still hurting from what you did to me, but I forgive you”

Shock covers his features and Sebastian is quick to wrap [Name] in a tight embrace,pulling her close against his chest and leaning his head into her shoulder, “I will spend every minute of every day making it up to you, I promise you that.”

Sebastian pulls away from the hug and quickly ducks down to place a chaste kiss on [Name]’s lips, testing the waters for how far he can go. He goes to pull back but she is wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back for more, their lips crash together in a passionate kiss and as they pull apart again they both whisper the same words “Tuum in aeternum”, their solemn vow to one another to love each other, eternally.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

all on my tongue I want it || ua! touya x recovery girl! y/n

(shoujo touya todoroki save us all)

summary: in which you saved your first kiss for a certain cremation quirk user

note: I didn't edit anything bcos I wrote this on a whim

Honestly, it was a miracle you got into UA in the first place. While there were probably more students who held more promising skills that could battle against villains, yours was just the typical. Well, not really; it could be a valuable asset in the least. After all, you inherited a healing quirk similar to Recovery Girl. Many people thought your healing lies with your kisses, but the truth is, it was a lot different than what people make it out to be.

You see, you can heal people with just a touch, hence why some would constantly try to take hold of a finger or two. This made you alert and conscious of people around you, though, because sometimes, some of them would just make an excuse to harass you. And it's so unfair considering how you're just a girl thriving in this world full of scums who apparently have no idea about invasion of privacy and spacial distance.

And on the topic of your healing kisses, well... let's say, it was your most powerful shot. Your healing kisses can heal people much faster than your touch can do. Heck, it can even stop someone from an almost death (depending on the circumstances, of course). You have only tried your kisses to your parents when you were young, so when some boys of your age would try to take your most precious golden kiss in disguise of a bruised knee or a bloody cut, you immediately back away and wish this wasn't the quirk bestowed upon you.

The downside of this quirk was painful though. You can't tell anyone that aside from healing the wound, you take the pain away when you heal them. So, let's say, if you heal your friend who scraped her knee from falling down the stairs, you manage to close up the wound. However, you will feel the pain she felt when she fell down and the sting of the bruise left on her. Some of the pain were minimal; some of them rendered you to sleep for days until you were also healed.

Todoroki Touya was another different story in your life, and you were foolish enough to like the oldest son of the number 2 pro hero, Endeavor. You two were in different classes (obviously) and the first time you watched him in the sports festival, you were captivated with the way he fought despite being so foul-mouthed and sarcastic yet nonchalant as he stood against his opponent and burned him in one go. In your head, it was all, "The movement was so smooth. He watched the opponent carefully before landing his mark without burning too much. He controlled his fire even though it's a lot stronger than his father's. So amazing." And that was how you found yourself, constantly trying to secretly regain your breathing whenever you pass by him in the hallway, pretending you didn't harbor those feelings of crush for him and how you got it so bad you swore you could die of heart attack if one day he touched you or stared at you so intense with those blue eyes.

Then come one day, you got involved with him. You were in the school garden, reading one of those books about enhancing your healing quirk when you secretly saw a fight break out between him and this one senpai with his friends. The reason? Touya was arrogant because Endeavor was his father, and apparently, kind of stole his girlfriend (or at least, according to his claim because Touya said he has no idea who the girl was anyway). Of course, Touya had the upperhand, but you could see how small patches of burnt skin started showing around. That's when you knew the downside of his quirk despite the fact that he still carried the same ice quirk that his mother had.

When senpai and his friends were distracted, you seized this chance to grab him and you two ran as far and as fast as you could despite his protest that you let him go, hiding in one of those empty science labs. Suddenly, Touya noticed the burns earlier were gone. It was like his skin was brand new. That's when you quickly pulled away.

"Sorry, I..." you stumbled for words. "I noticed your skin was burning due to your fire so I healed it."

Touya narrowed his eyes in confusion, scratching his head. "Healed?" he repeated, analyzing what you said before making a face of realization. He heard his classmates gush about this one cute girl from Class C with a healing quirk. They went on to say, "They said she can heal just by a touch, and her best power move would be a kiss." Of course, there were perverts who hypothesized, performing intercourse with her would be the best healing method. Gah, how disgusting they were.

"You didn't have to bother," he muttered in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he looked away. Touya was prideful, and he wasn't weak enough to let a medic girl like you help him.

You breathed out in pain, feeling the burning sensation he had earlier. Gosh, it was so hot you were thankful it didn't mar your skin. When he noticed your expression, he asked worriedly, "Did I burn you?"

You shook your head, assuring him. "N-Not really. This is just a side effect of my quirk. I can feel the pain you felt from your wound. That's all. I won't get your scars earlier or what," you explain with a smile. "I guess you endured all this before you could use your quirk, right? That's so brave of you, Todoroki-kun. I wish I was that strong."

That was how you caught his eye, and since then, he has been teasing you nonstop and trying to touch you like how a boyfriend does to his girlfriend (not because he was in dire need of healing.) You could even say he had claimed you publicly and made sure no one would dare touch you. He was a menace, and if he found out someone tried to take advantage of your quirk or you used your quirk on someone else, he will raise hell. Like literally. His cremation quirk wasn't made for him for no reason. He would go on to say that you were his, and you almost died of cardiac arrest when you heard him yell that for the first time at the hallway. Yes, the same place where everyone could spread gossip on how Endeavor's oldest son made the medic girl from Class C his girlfriend.

You liked the attention obviously. After all, you fell for him so bad that even his annoying cheap tricks to touch or hug you so close were getting you to have those heavy drumbeats in your chest and the way the butterflies would come swarming. He was a criminal, stealing your heart like that, and you were committing sin by just indulging this attention and meekly telling him not to tease you so much or let you go even though you yourself was not pulling away from his grasp. Your hypocritical self wanted more of Todoroki Touya that even his mischievous and cunning person was enough to make you swoon.

But mostly, he would trick you into kissing him just because he found out you purposely did not give your first kiss to anyone. You were quick to retort that first kisses were special, and you didn't want to give your first one just for medical reasons. "I want my first kiss to be romantic," you mumbled shyly, cheeks blushing. Gah, the ground should swallow you whole now. "I want it to happen while I'm on a date with the person I love, or even during our wedding."

"That long?" Touya complained. "You'd be a granny if you keep that up."

"I don't care! My lips are off limits until I say so."

Touya snickered, ruffling your hair and purposely messing it even though you spent hours doing it just so you would look cute for him. You were cute alright. You just didn't know his emotionally constipated teenage ass was jealous that the others were looking at you so much.

"T-Todoroki-kun! My hair!"

"Well, I wouldn't mind if you were a granny, Y/N." He stuck out his tongue teasingly, his silver piercing peeking through. "As long as you're mine."

You could only pout, realizing he wasn't that serious at all. You like him, but his teasing jokes aren't equivalent of real love confessions. You needed to hear him say he likes you in a serious way, not in this kind of joking way because if you could easily believe everything, then it would only be a recipe for a broken heart. You didn't want to nurse a broken heart, after all.

This charade went on until third year, and there were instances when you almost gave in, the cherry flavor of your lip balm fresh on your lips as he almost kissed you for many times yet you were interrupted. It was either one of you wasn't able to get the timing right or someone dared interrupt the romantic setting or you would suddenly get nervous and realize you weren't ready at all. You would miss your chance and get depressed you wished you could've went ahead and confessed first. This way, he would be aware because things were getting too real you were in this delusion like "maybe he really likes me too but is just shy so he jokes around?"

That was all until—

"Pro Hero Medic Girl. You are requested to assist in [location]. Pro Hero Medic Girl. You are requested to assist in [location.]"

It was the usual greeting of the intercom as you readied yourself for the worst case scenario. There's a killer villain on the loose, someone who had a grudge and wanted to destroy the world with him. As you prepared for the worse, you felt your heart grow heavy at the next words.

"Pro Hero Medic Girl. You are requested to assist Pro Hero Frost Flame. He doesn't have much longer."

Frost Flame. It was Touya's hero name.

You quickly rushed to his side and learned the villain stabbed him in the stomach as he made his final hit. Touya still got the victory, but at what cost? There was still a chance for him, but the thing was, the nearest hospital was far from your current location, and Touya already needed assistance or he won't be able to make it.

He was lying on the ground, almost lifeless as he tried to stop the bleeding in futile attempts with the ice quirk he has yet to master. You couldn't afford to lose him, not when you haven't told him your feelings. He knew you wanted the romantic first kiss, the fireworks, the warm sunset, the works, and everything. But what good would all they be if he was gone, though? Touya was more important than your romantic dream.

"I will kiss him," you announced to the pro heroes boldly. "My quirk will give him life, but we'll need to take him to the hospital quick afterwards."

They stepped aside to give room for you as you laid Touya's head on your lap, his consciousness almost fading away as he could only see a blurry vision of you caressing his face gently. A few teardrops from your eyes fell on his skin, and you tried to calm yourself. This was no time for sappy moments. You have to save him. You can save all the words later.

"Y/N..." Touya tried to make out your name, his voice hoarse as you took his hand in yours. "D-Don't..."

"It's okay now," you whispered. "Just let me."

It felt like time has stopped to witness this moment, your lips finally crashing down against his softly. You weren't given experience but you made sure to put passion in it so you would be able to convey your feelings for him. It made your heart race the moment you felt him try to reciprocate your deed but to no avail. It was fine for you, though. He's the one who needed healing, not you.

"Y-Y/N..."

"I know this is not the right time, but I had to," you explained to him, his head still on your lap as you kissed his forehead, "and it's because I love you, Touya-kun."

And after a few moments, you felt your vision going hazy, the stabbing sensation in your stomach growing deep as you felt the burning pain. It was completely draining your energy, trying to hold out as Touya coughed out to signify his sign of life.

Everything went black.

------

You woke up to a breathtaking, orange sunset view from your window after 3 days in the hospital, and when you look to your side, Touya was there, sitting on the couch and donning a straight and serious face. Judging from the way he moved towards your and sat on your bedside, it seemed that he has already healed from the damage he took from his previous battle.

"Todoroki-kun!" you greeted in relief. "You're okay now."

You expected him to smile and tease you as usual, but somehow, he looked kind of bitter and regretful. You were confused. Shouldn't be happy at least? You kissed him. You professed your love to him finally. Why was he looking at you like that?

Then it dawned on you. Perhaps he felt indebted to return it back. Maybe it was just you imagining things. Maybe he really didn't feel the same. Maybe he just went along because of the moment, not because of you. If that was the case, you would really be devastated.

"Shouldn't you be calling me by my name?" Touya corrected with an angry tone. "You called me 'Touya' back there."

You blushed so hard. So he remembered. "Uhh... I—"

"And your first kiss?" He finally mentioned the topic. Touya wanted to avoid it, but he needed to settle this once and for all. He knew there will come a time when you'll heal someone in need and experience the same thing over and over. The best thing he could do was take this chance. "I thought you said you'll only give it during a romantic date with someone you love or during your wedding."

"Yes, I—"

"Then why did you give it to me at the battlefield?" Touya winced at his harsh tone, reminding himself that he was speaking to you, and that the last thing he wanted was hurt you and let this drag on. "You could've made your dream happen. I could've made them all happen. You didn't have to—Fuck!" He loathed everything. Why did everything turn out this way? "You didn't have to share my pain and sleep here for 3 days!"

So that's what it was. He was worried you wouldn't make it out alive given how grave his wounds were. You bet he barely got any sleep and he wouldn't leave your side until you awaken because he was worried about your wellbeing. And deep down, maybe he was thinking he missed his chance to confess. You wanted to be delusional. That must be it. He was not giving his usual pranks. There was no sarcasm. He was being the boyish Touya that no one knew about.

You held his hand. "It's true. I've always wanted that romance dream," she affirmed then added, "but when I heard about your condition, I just couldn't—" the tears were now flowing, the waterworks you held back were showing itself to him, "I couldn't imagine a life where you're gone too soon. You can't leave me like that, not when I haven't told you how much I've fallen for you since our sports festival during our first year."

You felt his fingers wiping your tears, trying his damnest to be cautious or he might burn your skin. Touya hated it when you cry, after all. "Is that true? You like me? You love me enough to give your first kiss to me?"

"You idiot!" You pouted. "At this stage, and I even confessed to you!" You bet the other pro heroes at that time must have heard your declaration of love. Maybe Endeavor would find out about his son's love life sooner than expected, after all.

Now the smug smile was back on his face, and you wanted to wipe it off so bad. The nerve of him. "I just wanna make sure because there's no taking backsies, Y/N."

"Jerk."

"You love this jerk unfortunately," he joked, finally getting close to you as he kissed your forehead.

This wasn't the most picture perfect scenario. You were on your hospital bed and he was sitting near you, his hand caressing your cheek as the sunset turned into a more vivid orange in the background. It was warm, or maybe it was his quirk? You didn't bother knowing as you noticed how he flushed so hard but did not shy away from you like how you would expect a teenage boy in love would do. This moment would do. You just hoped for the best.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, leaning hus face towards yours as he rubbed his thumb across your lips. "Let me give you a taste of your own medicine."

Ah. You were in heaven when he kissed you.

PS. Fuyumi took a secret picture of you kissing Touya while Natsuo covered Shouto's eyes and mouth.

tagging: @rueclfer @crookedherringcolorclod @suksatoru @skiiyoomin @allurearia @m-4399 (bcos I wanna spread dabi love huhu)

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆PART 6: LITTLE WHITE LIES [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | a not so secret santa project ‼️ f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader (smau)

summary: seb just wants y/n to accept that contract, and he's going to do everything he can to make it happen. also... the sebastian vettel fandom goes wild when her ex girlfriend does her comeback

warnings: curse words, bad language. mentions of cheating. faceclaim: emma stone, hanna prater

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: surprise, i posted again! and first smau! I've been wanting to do one of this for a long time, so i hope you like it (please tell me)! feedback (please let me now what you thought of this!) and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls!

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

MAY 25TH 2018

JUNE 1ST 2018

ynyln just posted

ynyln moving on from him is impossible when i still see it all in my head in burning red... see you on june 15th x (more news coming soon... in july <3)

user1 omg are we having red mv? this is ALL red coded

user 2 THERE'S NO WAY SHE DID THIS ↳ user3 wait what is this about? ↳ user 2 user3 take a closer look to the pictures 😁 ↳ user4 i'm not getting it... someone explain it?

lewishamilton it's good to see you finally achieving your dreams! ❤️🙏🏿 ↳ ynyln can't wait to see you soon lew! missed you lots x

user6 she's absolutely insane for posting this pictures... i gotta love her ↳ user7 why is it with the pictures she chose to post? aren't they related to what her song says? ↳ user6 take a look at the twitter thread sebsrrari just posted!

user8 EXCUSE ME MISS YLN? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WITH THAT "SEE YOU SOON"? ↳ ynyln maybe redbullracing can give you a hint... ☺️ ↳ redbullracing ynyln, do you really want us to post certain something we have already saved? ↳ ynyln redbullracing you know i do! i don't know what are you waiting for?

user9 wait wasn't she dating sebastian vettel back in the day? it seems like she's recalling her years with him ↳ user10 i'm 110% sure that the quote goes to seb ↳ user11 and the fact that lewis has left a comment... they know i'm sure

user12 if this post has anything to do with seb... the og wag fandom is going to rise from the ashes and go WILD.

redbullracing just posted

redbullracing We are so delighted to announce that from now on we will officially become the main sponsor of our former golden girl, ynyln, who just started her career as a singer. Also... she will be joining us for the 2018 German Grand Prix next July! More details coming soon.

user1 THEY POSTED SEB AND Y/N OH MY GOD ↳ user2 is this some kind of throwback? weren't they dating a while back? 😯

user3 ok but the fact that they posted that picture makes me think maybe seb and y/n never really lost touch... could this be the start of something more than just sponsorship? ↳ user4 exactly thought this! there's definitely something more going on

user5 seb and y/n together again in 2018 does this mean they're dating again or is it just for promo? ↳ user6 probably promo... ↳ user7 or maybe they know something we don't... ↳ user8 really why posting a picture of them together when they broke up a while ago? ↳ user9 user8 WAIT THEY WERE DATING? ↳ user8 user9 yes! twitter is now full of their story, it's quite a romantic one but also bittersweet... it didn't end well according to most of people

user10 of course seb's the reason y/n's getting back in the spotlight ↳ user11 seb and y/n have way too much chemistry for you to say that ↳ user12 exactly! seeing her again after going viral without us knowing, and her being with seb again, is making me think there’s more to this story!

[sirenedeslily]

── 𝓢weetest 𝓣orture ( jackie taylor ) ּ 𓂅 ⋆

・❥・─── 𝓢𝗬𝗡. a sugar-coated ache, golden and cruel, where longing is worship and desire feels like ruin.

( pairing ) — jackie taylor x female!reader 𝜗𝒞 ; angst & fluff ℳ. this is based off of the song lacy by liv !! 𓂃 ( 2.8k )

there's something about jackie taylor that makes the air feel thick with divinity. not a girl, not yet a woman, but something celestial—a creature so exquisite that the gods themselves must weep with envy. her skin glows like sunlight spilling over pale morning clouds, soft and warm, with a delicate fragility that reminds me of pastry crumbling beneath careful hands. she moves through spaces like she's dancing through starlight, and i'm left breathless in her wake, collecting the stardust that falls from her shoulders.

and i, a mere mortal, am cursed to know her. to see her and want her and burn under the weight of my own longing until every breath feels like inhaling fire. some days, i think i might combust from the sheer intensity of it all.

we're not supposed to feel this way about other people, are we? this kind of worship, this feverish ache that wraps itself around my ribs and refuses to let go. i am caught, tangled in her web, and every attempt to free myself only draws me closer to her light. it's a magnetic pull that defies physics, defies reason, defies every attempt i make to break free.

i remember the first day i saw her on campus. august heat made the air shimmer, and there she was, golden hair catching the sunlight like a crown. my heart stopped, then started again with a different rhythm—a rhythm that spelled out her name with every beat. jackie. jackie. jackie.

she was helping her parents unload boxes from their car, laughing at something her father said. the sound carried across the parking lot like wind chimes in a summer breeze, and i nearly dropped my own box of belongings. of all the colleges in all the world, she had to choose this one. my fresh start was over before it began.

she doesn't know. how could she? jackie moves through the world like it was made for her—head held high, eyes bright as morning dew, wearing a smile that could cut down armies and heal wounds in the same breath. she is a starlet reborn, a modern brigitte bardot, all charm and grace and effortless beauty. the kind of person who doesn't have to try to be remarkable. and she doesn't.

that's the cruelest part of all.

college was supposed to be my fresh start. after years of being tethered to my past—my mistakes, my insecurities, my endless jealousy—it was supposed to be my chance to let go, to become someone new. someone who didn't spend their nights writing poetry about unrequited love, someone who didn't feel like their skin was too tight for their body, someone who could breathe without feeling like they were drowning in want.

but then jackie chose the same school, and my carefully constructed plans unraveled like a sweater caught on a nail, leaving me exposed and raw.

she is everywhere.

in the dorm hallways, her laughter echoing off the walls like a siren's call. i've memorized the sound of her footsteps, the way they fall light and quick against the linoleum. sometimes i wait in my room, ear pressed against the door, just to hear her pass by. it's pathetic, i know, but i can't help myself. i'm addicted to even the smallest pieces of her.

in the library, she's a vision of concentrated beauty. head bent over textbooks, bottom lip caught between her teeth, the curve of her neck so perfect it makes my stomach churn with want. she twirls a strand of hair around her finger when she's deep in thought, and i've filled entire pages of my notebook just describing that simple gesture. the way the gold catches the fluorescent lights, the graceful movement of her fingers, the slight furrow in her brow as she reads.

at parties, she's ethereal. spinning under string lights in the cramped living rooms of off-campus houses, her golden hair catching the glow like it was spun from sunbeams. she dances like nobody's watching, but everyone is. how could they not? she's magnetic, drawing every eye in the room without even trying. i watch her from corners, from doorways, from behind red solo cups that i pretend to sip from. i watch her, and i burn.

and in my literature class. of all the small mercies the universe could have granted me, it denied me this one. jackie taylor sits a row ahead of me, her notebook open to pages of perfect handwriting, her pen tapping softly against her desk in a rhythm that matches my heartbeat. sometimes she wears her hair up, exposing the delicate nape of her neck, and i have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from reaching out to touch it.

she has no idea how much i hate her for it.

but hate is the wrong word.

hate implies anger, bitterness, something sharp and biting. this is different. this is the kind of loathing that curls inward, burrows into your chest, and eats you alive from the inside out. it's jealousy, yes, but more than that. it's admiration so intense it feels like a wound that refuses to heal, a constant ache that throbs with every glimpse of her.

i've started cataloging her outfits in my mind, creating a digital archive of every sweater, every skirt, every perfectly coordinated accessory. today it's a cream-colored cardigan that makes her look like she stepped out of a vintage photograph. the soft wool catches the light when she moves, creating halos around her shoulders. her hair is loose today, falling in gentle waves that make my fingers itch to run through them.

jackie is too kind, too sweet, too thoughtful in ways that make me feel like i'm unraveling thread by thread. she compliments me sometimes—offhandedly, casually, like she's not dropping bombs that explode in slow motion beneath my skin.

last week, she stopped me after class. "that point you made about symbolism in plath's work was brilliant," she said, and i nearly choked on my own tongue. she remembered something i said. she thought about it. she thought about me.

"your hair looks nice today," she'll say as we pass in the hallway, her voice carrying the warmth of summer afternoons.

and i'll nod, choking out a quick "thanks," while my pulse thrums in my throat and my stomach twists itself into elaborate nautical knots. her words shouldn't matter. they shouldn't burrow under my skin like splinters, shouldn't stay with me for hours, days, weeks. but they do. and it makes me hate her. it makes me hate myself even more.

at night, i lie awake and replay every interaction, every glimpse, every moment she's existed in my proximity. i imagine different scenarios, different endings. in some, i'm brave enough to tell her how i feel. in others, she confesses first. In most, i just watch her from afar, burning and burning and burning.

i write about her constantly. my notebooks are filled with half-finished poems and prose pieces that try to capture the essence of her. how do you describe someone who seems made of light? how do you put into words the way your chest aches when they smile? how do you explain that you're drowning in the ocean of your own wanting?

"write about longing," our professor says, her voice cutting through the comfortable silence of the classroom like a knife through butter.

the class groans collectively, a few students laughing nervously at the vulnerability the assignment demands. i barely hear them. my heart is already pounding against my ribcage like it's trying to escape, my palms slick with sweat. finally, an excuse to put this ache on a paper other than mine.

"desire," she continues, her eyes scanning the room. "the kind of want that keeps you up at night. the ache you can't ignore, even when you wish you could."

i glance at jackie before i can stop myself, a moth drawn to its inevitable destruction. she's sitting straight, her face calm, unbothered. of course she is. jackie taylor has never wanted for anything in her life. she's never had to learn to live with the kind of hunger that gnaws at your insides, that makes you forget what it feels like to be full.

but me? my longing has become a second skin, an ever-present ghost that wraps itself around my throat and pulls tight until breathing becomes an act of defiance.

the poem consumes me like wildfire.

i write it over three sleepless nights, the words pouring out of me like blood from a wound. my roommate finds me at 3 am, hunched over my desk, tears streaming down my face as i write. she asks if i’m okay. i lie and say it's just stress about midterms.

how do you explain that you're writing about the way someone's existence has become both your salvation and your destruction? how do you tell someone that you're crafting a confession that will either set you free or burn you alive?

i don't name her in the poem. i don't need to. instead, i write about angels. about cathedrals and sunlight and the soft cruelty of someone who doesn't know the damage they're causing. i write about jealousy, about the way it festers and rots and turns love into something ugly yet still beautiful in its devastation. i write about longing so deep it feels like drowning, and about the sweetness of surrendering to it anyway.

when i'm done, i sit back, my chest heaving, my eyes burning with unshed tears that refuse to fall. it's her. it's always been her. every word, every metaphor, every carefully crafted line is a love letter i never intended to send.

the day of the reading arrives, and i feel like i'm walking to my own execution, each step bringing me closer to a beautiful destruction of my own making.

our professor insists that poetry must be spoken aloud to be truly felt. i disagree. some feelings are too raw, too personal to be shared. some words are meant to stay hidden, buried in journals and password-protected files. but here i am, about to lay my soul bare in front of twenty pairs of eyes, including hers.

jackie sits in her usual seat, a row ahead of me. today, her golden hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail that catches the fluorescent lights like a halo. she's wearing that cream cardigan again, the one that makes her look like she belongs in a classical painting. she looks calm, relaxed, her notebook open in front of her like this is just another day, just another class.

my hands tremble as the professor calls my name.

i stand, clutching my notebook so tightly the pages crinkling under my fingers, and walk to the front of the room. my heart is racing, my stomach in knots, and i can't seem to catch my breath. but then i see her, and something shifts inside me. if this is my confession, my moment of truth, then let it be beautiful. let it be worthy of her.

the words pour out of me like a prayer,

the room is silent when i finish, the kind of silence that feels like holding your breath underwater. i keep my eyes fixed on the page, too afraid to look up, too afraid to see the faces of my classmates—or worse, jackie's. my hands are shaking so badly i can barely read the words anymore.

there's a polite smattering of applause, soft and distant, like i'm hearing it from underwater. i force myself to walk back to my seat, each step feeling like i'm moving through molasses. i sit down, my chest tight, my head spinning with the weight of what i've just done.

and then i feel it.

jackie's eyes on me, heavy as a physical touch.

i glance up, and she's turned completely around in her seat, staring at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. her lips are parted slightly, and there's something in her expression i've never seen before. recognition? understanding? horror? i can't tell, and before i can analyze it further, the professor calls the next name, and the moment shatters like glass.

the rest of class passes in a blur. i don't hear a single word anyone else reads. all i can focus on is the weight of jackie's presence in front of me, the way she keeps shifting in her seat, the way her hand trembles slightly as she writes in her notebook.

when class ends, i shove my things into my bag as quickly as possible, ready to flee, to hide, to pretend this never happened. but as i step into the hallway, i hear her voice.

"wait."

i freeze, my pulse racing, my breath catching in my throat like a butterfly in a net. slowly, i turn around.

jackie stands there, bathed in the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway, yet somehow still looking ethereal. her cheeks are flushed pink, and she's clutching her notebook to her chest like a shield.

"that was..." she trails off, searching for the right words, her eyes never leaving mine. "beautiful."

i don't know what to say. my throat is dry, my hands trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. years of longing and watching and wanting press against my ribcage, threatening to spill out.

jackie takes a step closer, then another, until she's close enough that i can smell her perfume—something light and floral that makes my head spin. her gaze is locked on mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak.

"was it..." she pauses, licks her lips nervously. "was it about someone you know?"

my heart stutters, trips, falls. for a moment, i think about lying, about brushing it off, about running until my lungs burn and my legs give out. but then i meet her eyes—those eyes that have haunted my dreams and nightmares alike—and something in me breaks wide open.

"yes," i whisper, the word falling from my lips like a prayer.

her breath hitches, a small sound that echoes in the space between us like thunder. and then, before i can think, before i can stop her, before i can do anything but exist in this moment, she steps forward and kisses me.

it’s soft at first, tentative, a question more than an answer. but then i make a small, desperate sound in the back of my throat, and something in her shifts. her hands come up to cup my face, gentle but sure, and she kisses me like she's been thinking about it as long as i have. like she's been burning too.

she tastes like cherry chapstick and possibility, and i feel myself melting into her touch like snow in spring. my hands find her waist, pulling her closer, needing to feel the solid reality of her against me. this can't be real. this has to be real.

when we finally break apart, we're both breathing heavily. jackie rests her forehead against mine, her thumbs stroking softly over my cheekbones. when i open my eyes, she's already looking at me, and what i see in her gaze makes my heart stutter.

there's wonder there, and vulnerability, and something that looks remarkably like the longing I've been carrying around all this time. she's looking at me like i'm something precious, something worth wanting, something worth burning for.

"i didn't know," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "i didn't know you felt it too."

and in that moment, i realize that maybe we've both been haunted all along. maybe we've both been burning, both been yearning, both been writing poems in the dark about the agony of wanting something we thought we couldn't have.

i reach up and touch her face, tracing my fingers along her jaw like i've imagined doing a thousand times. she leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed, and my heart feels too big for my chest.

"jackie," i breathe, and her name tastes like salvation on my tongue.

she smiles then, bright and beautiful and real, and kisses me again. and again. and again. until the fluorescent lights dim and the hallway empties and the world narrows down to just this: her lips on mine, her hands in my hair, her heart beating against my chest.

the sweetest torture has become the sweetest relief, and i surrender to it completely.

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @waitforyrlove @elizabebabe @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled @maggot3647 @ifwdominicfike @sweetestpoetic @ch6rm

[gingernut1314]

Couldn't Sleep?

Summary: It's not unusual for Robin to leave your side in the middle of the night, but it still doesn't stop you from missing her and seeking her out.

Content: GN!Reader, Robin struggling to sleep, pet names, set on the Thousand Sunny

Word Count: 1K

A/N: Your honor, I love her ✋😩 why I haven't written for her yet is a mystery because she is in my top three one piece blorbos. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

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You knew the arm wrapped around you wasn’t attached to a body.

You knew it the moment you began to wake up, throat dry and eyes burningly heavy. The arm was soft and comforting as always…but the lack of the body it belonged to had you semi-fully awake. 

The girl's quarters were dark, the only light dimly seeping in from the crack under the door, though it was just enough ligh to see the arm holding you. An arm that had bloomed from the soft mattress beneath you. The master of this bloomed arm was missing, just as you had known, but seeing the nearly empty spot next to you confirmed it. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up and find a missing Robin. Some nights she struggled to sleep and some mornings she was up even before Sanji. And although it was usual it still didn’t help ease your missing her. 

You turned into the arms hold, brushing your hand up her forearm so that you could take hers gently. You raised the hand to your lips and placed a sweet kiss to the inside of her wrist, the bloomed hand giving you a small squeeze before poofing away in a cloud of pink petals and the smell of cherry blossoms. 

Nami gave a small, airy mumble in her sleep as you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, shoving your feet into your pair of fluffy slippers. You tried your hardest to muffle the sound of your exit, not wishing to wake Nami up and enact her wrath. 

The rest of the ship was warmly quiet, everyone within dreaming soundly. You wound your way to the first floor and heard how the rest of your crew was sleeping. 

Deeply sound but oh so loud. 

It was sounds you once thought nothing human could make, but no matter how loud and bone-shaking, it was yet another thing you had grown to find comfort in. 

A salt-filled breeze greeted you as you made your way outside, the deck of the Sunny awash in the silvery glow of the ever-watchful moon hanging above. It gave you enough light to make your way safely across the Sunny and towards the stern, where the library observation room was located. 

It was also where you knew she would be held up.

You carefully opened the door, finding the lamp had been switched on to give the room a near-golden glow. Your eyes scanned the rounded room, taking in all the different books your crew had filled the shelves with. Took in the small table at the center of the room and the ladder leading up to the washroom before they finally landed on Robin sitting curled up on the plush bench that rounded the room. 

Her sapphire blue eyes were already watching you, a toothless smile pulling to her lips you were quick to return.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You questioned as you shut the door behind you. 

“I’m nearly finished with this book.” She said in that silky smooth voice of hers. “It was all I could think about.”

You knew it was only part of the reason she couldn’t sleep. Knew there definitely was much more on her mind than the story in her hands, but you didn’t push for the truth. You never pushed. You two had come far enough together. She would come to you about that stuff when she was ready to talk, just as you would do the same. 

And besides, it was far too late for such discussions.

“I think this is the fastest you’ve read a book yet.” You mused, grabbing a big, fluffy blanket from the basket full of them in the corner. 

“Oh? You think so?” Robin’s blue eyes tracked you as you crossed the way over to her. 

“Yep. Your fastest record was a week. This book has only taken you--what? Five days?” Robin gave a closed-lipped chuckle, placing her book over her knee to give you her full attention.

“I would say that’s still about a week.” You shook your head. 

“Nope,” You gave the ending of the word a nice pop. “There are seven days in a week and you, my dear, have taken two less days than that.” The corner of her eyes crinkled as she smiled up at you.

You remembered a time when her smiles never quite reached her eyes. Remembered a time when those smiles seemed like they were almost an act. 

So you made sure to take a few seconds any time she gifted the world such a smile. A whole face smile that you wanted to burn right into your memory and never forget. 

“If you insist, flower.” You gave a small chuckle yourself, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. 

“Can I cuddle with you till you finish? I got a bit lonely.” Robin gave you an instant nod, holding one of her arms out in welcome. 

You quickly climbed onto the light blue cushioned bench, pressing your side flush to hers and shimming a bit down so that your head could rest on her collarbones. Her arm wrapped around you tightly, keeping you closer as you threw the blanket over you both.

Once settled, Robin bloomed two new arms to hold her book up while she held you close. She nuzzled her nose against your forehead before placing a tender kiss there. 

“I’m--sorry for leaving…” She murmured against your skin.  

“It’s okay.” You snaked your arms around her waist, letting your fingers lazily move up and down her side. “Next time you can read in bed with me. Nami wouldn’t mind it if you used her book light, I don’t think and the light won’t bother me.” Robin kept her face against your forehead in quiet thought for a moment longer. Just breathing you in and taking in your presence. 

“Thank you.” She placed another kiss to your forehead before turning so her cheek rested against your head as she read. 

“You’ll have to tell me the rating you give this book after you finish, m’kay?” You snuggled closer into her warmth, eyes growing heavy with sleep all over again. Robin gave a small nod. 

“Anything for you, flower.”

More Like This: Demons and Claws {Zoro x GN!reader} ⋆ Just Trying To Sleep {Luffy x gn!reader} ⋆ How Can I Be Of Service? {Sanji x gn!reader} ⋆ Feeling Generous {Nami x gn!reader} ⋆ Nightmares {Usopp x gn!reader}

[featherandferns]

angel (fic)

jj maybank x fem!shy!kook!reader | technically the sequel for fascinating new thing, but can be read as a stand-alone too

content warning: pure filth, to be honest; sex (f and m self-pleasure; protected, p in v)

word count: 3k

blurb: jj knows there's something hidden beneath all the layers of quiet and meek; he just has to coax it out of you.

Nobody expected JJ Maybank to end-up having a thing for you, including JJ himself. He couldn’t explain how it happened, or when exactly, but it went from him being somewhat wary of you to completely desperate to have your gaze on him. It seemed that one day you just had him: hook, line and sinker. JJ had sort of accepted that he didn’t have a chance, especially with a certain ginger haired boy lingering in the background. He’d admire from afar and settle for friendship if that’s all you could offer him. But then you kissed him, and everything seemed to fall into place. JJ was allowed privy to your thoughts and the different facets of yourself: watching you song write and waking you from a nightmare and indulging in the late-night baking. He liked every part of it. Everything that was you.

Well, almost everything.

“You can’t seriously enjoy this crap?”

“Be quiet, please,” you mumble.

JJ rolls his eyes. He has one arm under his head, propping it up so he can see the screen of your laptop, and the other on your stomach, resting atop your tee shirt. He’s spooning you, cosy under the sheets of your bed.

It’s the second time he’s been in your bedroom. It’s a nice room; perfectly encapsulates you. Vinyl records and CDs and a million and one potted plants and succulents. Fairly lights draped above your bed and around a pinboard of pictures and keepsakes, shining a delicate golden hue on your belongings. An acoustic guitar rests against the wall by your bedroom door. It’s wide open right now. No need to have it shut; your parents aren’t home.

Looking back to the screen, JJ tries and fails to hold in a sigh.

“Can you be quiet, please?” you repeat.

“Who is that? The guy?”

“George the third.”

“The third? Is that the one that murdered all his wives?”

“JJ, I can’t hear it,” you complain quietly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He barely pays attention to the drama on the screen, too busy foraging through his brains for the history of English royals. “Is he though?”

You sigh, annoyed. “No. That’s Henry the Eighth. And he didn’t murder all of them. Just two.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” JJ sarcastically replies.

For some reason, he feels as though you’ve rolled your eyes. He attempts to watch the show that you’ve become obsessed with lately. The characters don’t talk like normal people. Everything is so flowery and over-the-top that he hardly understands what they’re talking about. It’s boring and dull and overdramatic. He lets his mind wander.

“Baby?”

“JJ?”

“Just a quick question.”

“Yes?” you sigh, patience clearly dwindling.

“Is George the Third the one that got really fat?”

“No, that’s George the fourth,” you say.

“Which one’s George the third then?”

“George the third is the one that was ruler when America won its independence. I mean, do you listen to anything in history?” you chuckle. JJ feels the muscles in your belly tighten and loosen as you do.

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “When it’s interesting. Like, I don’t get how all of this—”

“Shush! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” you snap.

JJ can’t help but snigger. He likes when you lose your temper with him; let the good-girl side of you slip for a moment to put him in his place.

He nuzzles his face into your hair. It smells like cedarwood and salt water. Maybe he’ll just have a nap. You’re not coming away from the show anytime soon – not until the episode’s done, anyway. JJ closes his eyes and vaguely tunes into the droning of dialogue. Lady this and sire that. He’s just about to properly drift off (maybe it’s been five minutes or so) when he’s woken by the feel of you pushing back against his groin. His hold tightens on your stomach and he reluctantly inches his body away slightly.

“Baby don’t do that,” he mumbles sleepily into your hair.

“Do what?” you reply, absentmindedly.

You’re still watching the Goddamn show. He’s not sure if you’re playing dumb or not.

Then, you do it again.

JJ inhales sharply. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Rubbing up on me like that,” he tells you, half-laughing. “S’not fair.”

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He opens his eyes and looks down at the laptop screen. The moment he makes out what’s happening in the show, it clicks. Oh.

Smirking, JJ can’t keep from taking the piss.

“You didn’t tell me that you’re into regency era porn.”

“Shut up,” you reply all too quickly.

“Is it like all royal era stuff or just Henry the third things?”

“George the third!”

“Tomata-tomato,” JJ mutters. Quiet. Then: “Does it have to be in a bathtub or…”

“JJ!” you whine, embarrassed. He laughs into your hair. “Stop it!”

“Alright, alright! I’m just messing around,” he sniggers.

You don’t reply, don’t even seem to be listening to him, with your eyes shamelessly fixated on the screen. JJ starts to watch too, half-curious as to what has you so entranced.

The lighting is dark. Who JJ has finally come to grasp as king George the third is fucking his wife in the bath. She’s riding him, grinding down on him, still in her dress. The music swells with sharp, dramatic violins. This time, when you push back reflexively against JJ, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he uses his hand that’s placed on your stomach to keep you there. He’s only half ashamed to admit that he’s turned on by the regency-era-sex-scene from your corny, cheesy TV show.

Half hard, he rubs against you, sighing into your hair as he does. You don’t shake him off. Instead, you push back against him.

And then, the scene stops. It’s daylight. Cutting to a scene in a conservatory.

JJ shifts his hand so it’s under your tee shirt, moving to stroke at the skin. He feels your stomach constrict underneath his touch, as if you’re holding your breath, and then relax. He places a kiss to your neck, then another, and begins to work on a hickey. You let out a shaking breath, eyes only half-focused on the show, now. One of your hands comes down to lay atop of his, though not in discouragement. JJ can’t help but rut against you again. In the haze of kissing at your throat, he finds himself wishing a silent prayer that you won’t pull away this time.

He doesn’t mind waiting. Really, he doesn’t. He’d probably wait forever for you (if he really had to). He knows how nervous you get; knows all of this is new to you. Understands. Doesn’t want you to feel pressured. But, God, JJ would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to fuck you. That he didn’t jack off almost every night to the thought of it. That seeing you, drenched head to toe, stood in nothing but a bikini after surfing didn’t have him shifting in his seat. That having you pressing up against him like you had been tonight didn’t make his mind shoot off to the darkest, dirtiest places. So, yes, he’ll stop if you ask, but he’s praying, borderline close to begging, that you don’t.

Your fingers loop into his hair, pulling him off your neck. He shifts enough back so you can turn your head, meeting his eyes. Your breathing heavier than usual, lips wet as if you’ve been licking at them. Your eyes are dancing over his face, back to his eyes, glancing at his lips. JJ’s hand on your stomach continues scratching softly at your skin. He gently rubs himself against you. Please.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whisper. There’s a tinge of nerves to your voice.

JJ nods. Swallows. “I know.”

“But…I want to,” you quietly say. A smile teasing at the corner of your lips as you nod. “If you do, that is.”

JJ leans down so his forehead bumps against yours. He exhales a chuckle against your lips. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the hammock.”

You giggle, perhaps a little stunned at the confession, and then your lips are on his.

JJ’s rolling onto his back, sighing into the kiss, pulling you atop of him. His hand that was under his head now reaches out to close the laptop, shoving it to the foot of the bed (hopefully where it won’t fall off). Then he’s kissing you with newfound hunger. Tongue slipping into your mouth lewdly, brushing against yours, swallowing your sighs and breaths. Whenever you break apart, it’s for less than a moment. Your hands have come up to cradle his face, fingers splayed across his cheek and jaw. One of his resides on your waist, squeezing at the skin, and his other has fallen onto your bare thigh; the pyjama shorts you’re wearing having ridden up.

When you lean back against him, rolling down on his crotch, JJ groans against your lips. The gasp you let out is small, startled, as you feel him, hard against you.

“We don’t have to,” JJ reminds you, though the id in him is crying out yes, we do. Please.

You shake your head, hands still on his face. “I want to.”

Thank fucking God.

As the two of begin to kiss again, JJ lets his hand creep up your stomach. His fingers gently trace up the soft skin. He feels the ripples of your breaths as he goes; they’re uneven. Bringing his hand up to your chest, cupping at the bare skin, you sigh against him. He begins to tenderly palm at your breast, running a finger back and forth over your nipple, grinning to himself as he feels it harden at his touch.

You’re grinding back on him now, making him uncomfortably hard under his boxers, sensitive as he rubs against the fabric. JJ opens his eyes to look up at you, your kiss naturally breaking as you begin to breath more and more heavy. Frowns as he sees you dig your teeth into your lower lip. He lifts his hand from off your thigh to bring his thumb to your lips, tugging it free.

“I wanna hear you,” JJ mumbles, tone only slightly demanding.

You open your eyes. They’re angel-like; innocent and shining under the fairy-light glow. Then, you do something that has him twitching, horny past the point of no return. You take his thumb into your mouth and suckle at his finger. JJ groans at the sight. Jesus Christ. Something in you seems to shine through and take control. You don’t say anything as you hold his hand in both of yours, guiding his thumb out your mouth only to begin sucking on his pointer finger. Your eyes slip shut as you do, as if you’re getting off on doing so, and you sigh out a quiet moan. JJ feels himself begin to smirk, taken aback somewhat. Okay…

Pulling his finger from out of your mouth tentatively, he lets his thumb pinch at your chin. The dampness of your spit streaks onto your skin, if only slightly. JJ suddenly knows what his new favourite thought of you is. Your chest is rising and falling, lips parted, cheeks warm as if there’s a part of you longing to be embarrassed. But you’re not. Not shying away from him, at least. JJ’s hands find the hem of your shirt and coax it over your head. As he goes, he guides you to lie down on your back – head at the foot of the bed – and crawls on top of you. One of your feet hesitantly rubs at the back of his calve. Then your fingers are tugging at the bottom of his top and he leans back to take it off. Easing back down to kiss at your chest, he can’t help but sigh against the sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your nails dig into the skin of his back. You don’t reply, but he feels as though you’re shaking your head. Glancing up, he frowns.

“You are,” he repeats.

“Can you not say things like that to me right now…” you mumble, retreating back into yourself.

JJ sighs, somewhat disappointed.

“Sorry,” you add. It makes JJ chuckle, his breath fanning against your chest.

“You don’t gotta be sorry, baby,” he replies, moving to kiss at one of your nipples. One of your hands creeps up to his face, fingers slipping into his hair. A small gasping exhale at the sensation. “Just wish you saw yourself the way I see you, sometimes.”

You’re sighing at the attention he’s giving your body. His hand comes up to grope at your neglected breast. More gasps, more breaths. You’re still so quiet. JJ knows it’s in there, could see it trying to break out when you were sucking on his fingers, he just has to coax it out of you.

Leaning back (a string of spit following), JJ sits back on his haunches and takes you in. Wonders what to do with you, as if you’re fully at his mercy. You’re looking at him, watching him. Laid out on your back, near bare and gorgeous, breathing heavy. You're half covering your chest, not used to being so exposed before someone.

Maybe he’ll just fuck you now. JJ's barely holding it together as it is. No, you’ll be too tight if he does. He has to remind himself that this is new to you. He wants it to be worth it. Wants it to be perfect. Not only that, but he also wants you to appreciate yourself and your body the way he does. Words clearly aren’t gonna cut it; you go squeamish at the faintest of compliments. But maybe…

JJ feels the shadow of a smirk grow on his face with an idea. Makes your lips twitch with a frown, as if confused where his mind might be. The he’s reaching for your spare hand that’s found purchase in the bed sheets. Taking it by the wrist, he guides it over your body, down to your shorts. Your eyes dart up from following it, meeting his eyes. Your lips move as if to say something, but you don’t. So quiet.

“I got an idea,” JJ tells you. He’s so hard it hurts, but he can’t pass up on this opportunity.

Your gaze doesn’t break apart from JJ’s as you let him guide your hand with his under the hem of your shorts. He manoeuvres your fingers easily (you pliant like a doll) and slides it through your folds. You’re soaking. The feel of it makes you gasp. Leaning down, using his other arm to prop himself above you, he guides your conjoined touch back and forth, skimming over your clit. The brief, fleeting touch makes you moan.

JJ smirks. There it is.

“Feel good, huh?” he breaths against your ear, teasingly. You don’t reply but he feels your hand gain more control, working to finger yourself. JJ chuckles. “Knew you were dirty underneath all the good-girl shit you put on.”

It seems that whatever strap was holding you together has snapped. Your honeyed voice is crying out, in moans and whines. Eyes shut, head tilted back, and JJ basks in the sight of you. He gradually lets his hand leave yours, slipping out of your shorts, and watches as you continue getting yourself off underneath your shorts. Chews on the inside of his cheek as he does, bucking against your leg desperately. He can’t help but pull himself out of his boxers, jacking off at the sight. At your sweet, hopeless sounds. Your spare hand is coming to his throat, pulling at his jaw, guiding his lips to yours in a lustful, messy kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth, gasping, voice high and desperate.

“Good girl,” JJ croons. It spurs you on. He’s smirking again, gasping through his own pleasure. Fuck. You’re perfect. How are you so Goddamn perfect?

“You close, baby? You gonna come?”

Your reply comes in a stammered, broken gasp. Yes.

JJ forces his hand from himself, quickly moving to grab at your wrist, pulling your fingers away. They’re drenched. You whine at the loss of contact, so close to the edge it seems, and he chuckles darkly against your jawline.

“Not yet,” he simply says.

As JJ moves to take off your shorts, shucking off his boxers in this process, he catches a glimpse of your hand moving back up your body. His eyes flick up just in time to see you slip your used fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Fuck. How JJ doesn’t come on the spot is beyond him. You open your eyes, catching his gaze, and meekly pull them from your mouth. Before you can form the inevitable apology you’re bound to give, JJ’s darting down to capture your mouth in a kiss. Then, he’s climbing atop of you, rubbing at your entrance. Has the both of you gasping against one another.

“Wait,” you mumble, pulling back. “We need a condom.”

“Shit, yeah,” JJ pants. He’d forgotten about that. You point vaguely to your bedside table.

“There should be one in there. Somewhere.”

JJ chuckles slightly and nods, leaning back to riffle through. He can’t help but notice the vibrator, making a mental note of that for another day. Finding one, he’s coming back to you, sliding it on, desperate to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he keeps his eyes on you.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

“I will,” you quietly reply, a hand coming up to cup at his jaw.

JJ nods and begins to slide in. His eyes reflexively shut; he can’t help it. It feels fucking amazing. Sex with feelings is better than any kegger hook-up he’s ever had.

But you’re tight, too tight, and it’s like your body is trying to push him out. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see your face twisted in pain, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, thumbing at your cheek. You force your eyes open, gazing up at him. “You gotta relax, alright? Just breath out for me.”

You take a moment then do as he asks. He feels your body soften. Nudging a bit further in, you actively try not to go tight again.

“It’s just me,” he reminds you. “You’re doing so good, alright?”

To keep you lax, he rubs gently at your clit. Eventually, your body opens up to him. Once JJ’s eased all the way in, you’re squeezing him like a vice.

“You can move, JayJ,” you say, almost anxious that he isn’t.

JJ laughs a little. He won’t last a second if he moves right now. Closing his eyes, composing himself, he replies, “I really can’t. Gimme a second.”

Soon enough, the two of you sink into a rhythm. JJ places a hand one side of your head, another on your hip, angling you up slightly. Your back begins to arch and you’re moaning again, and JJ decides that it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. Prettier than when you sing. The sounds echoing off the bedroom walls are filthy enough to make Satan himself blush.

"Fuck baby. Feel so fucking good."

Groaning against your shoulder, moaning into your ear, JJ feels his resolve begin to break. He’s close. The way your body is reacting to him has him thinking you are too. His hand leaves your hip to rub at your clit. Quick, firm circles. You start to gasp, high pitched and euphoric, and JJ know he can’t last much longer. It’s too good.

The moment you finish, JJ lets go. The two of you come almost together, riding it out, clinging to each other as if you’ll float away if not. JJ eventually let’s himself collapse on top of you, breathing shallow and frantic. You’re still clenching around him, body dealing with the aftershocks.

JJ’s not sure how he’s supposed to go about the rest of his life knowing what it’s like to have you in bed. How he’s meant to get anything done with the memory of how you sound, gasping out his name. The picture stained in his mind of you sucking your fingers clean.

He presses a kiss to your damp neck, then another and another until he somehow finds your mouth. You sigh as you kiss him back, a hand coming to cradle at his face yet again. He pulls back, opens his eyes into yours, and you give him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. Bashful and blissed out and beautiful.

“I love you,” you tell him, still a little breathless.

JJ smiles back. Heart stammers.

You wanted him. You picked him.

Kissing you once more, tender and fleeting, JJ sighs. “I love you too.”

[potteraep]

Hey 👋 how are you. I have a question: Do you take requests??

If yes:

Can you do a fic with Soft! Golden retriever Slytherin! Reader x an Overprotective! Black cat! Regulus. Where he probably thinks, where did they come from ?? (im a girl but i want other people with different genders to read this) and reader is like" if you don't accept my friendship bracelet, I'm gonna curse your family for seven generations." kinda person. And Regulus is like oh they feisty, i like that. And that's.. the idea.

If not: have a great day 😁😊

REDAMENCY ౨ৎ R.B

౨ৎ: regulus black x slytherian gn!reader

౨ৎ: hi! Sorry this took like a while.. to be released but I hope you enjoy it

౨ৎ: @reggieswriter I thought I’d tag you because you also requested something similar! I hope you like it :)

౨ৎ- regulus black found himself immersed by you, perhaps for some reasons even he didn’t have the heart to answer tho to say you weren’t in his head would be a stupid lie.

he wouldn’t say it was a crush, god no or atleast he wouldn’t admit it. His excuse was that you being a slytherian, he didn’t understand your attentive and caring attitude for those around you

in his defense his experience with his other house mates was that it was better to ignore them even if they were infact similar in many manners.

to say you shocked him was a slight understatement, well it didn’t exactly blow his mind but his gaze lingered for few longer seconds then he would for Anyone else

his eyes looking around as other slytherains rolled there eyes at you, and hufflepuffs wondered why you weren’t sorted with them

everytime you talked to him he was kind but quite not sure of how open to be but he made a note to try and be open as well when you asked how he was and ran off to go talk to anyone else about it

The “ friendship” obviously didn’t start like this tho at first you tried speaking to him as he looked at you and back at his work before you huffed and walked off

the next day he was a bit shocked and annoyed to see you keep trying to talk to him as he ignored you again

tho he was a bit interested and found your personality.. attractive?

this went on for a week.

Until he finally decided that he’d speak back to you when you tried, of course you spoke to him again but you were the shocked one when he replied with a full sentence

he found himself a bit happy seeing you so excited over a reply but brushed it off and continued his work as you waved walking away to your seat

After a week or so you became “friends” waving at each other in the halls, tho his wave was a lazy excuse of one but still a welcoming one.

he would walk into class and smile softly at you and every time you stopped him in the hall to talk your opposite demeanor seemed to bounce off each other, his blank but attentive gaze colliding with your excited attitude

as the months went on you grew closer your short hellos going to full fledged conversation and he felt a little thankful to know you, as in his words you were a breathe of fresh air

His friends often teased him a bit at the fact he’d roll his eyes and make a snarky remark when his house mates talked bad of you telling them they were stupid and couldn’t hope in a million years there brains could function enough to understand your honorable personality

he denied all the fingers his friends pointed at him saying it was only because you were very nice and a good person and it’s quite insensitive to take your kindness for weakness and that was it.

tho he of course wouldn’t admit to his friends or even himself that his heart skipped seeing you in the halls or when your hand would rest on his shoulder when you pasted him at his desk.

tho maybe soon his feelings could be put out, or at least deep down he hoped he wouldn’t have to feel such a feelings in the pit of his stomach in secret much longer.

@- likes and reblogs appreciated! As well as any other feedback :>

[back2bluesidex]

Oh So Reluctant - PJM (18+)

Pairing: Husband!Jimin X Wife!Reader

Theme: Angst, Arrange marriage au.

Summary: For the past eleven months that you have been married to Park Jimin, he has not looked at you the way he has been doing today. And there is sinister in his eyes.

Word count: 1819

Warnings: Angst, unhappy married life, Jimin is cold, reader is lonely, mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual tension but no smut for this part (yes there is a second part, it's a twoshot), brief Taehyung X Reader.

Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!

A/N: This story was requested by lovely @chimmy-licious.

As mentioned before, this is a twoshot, so there will be a second part, I just don't know when haha!

Part 2

****************

You check yourself out in the elevator mirror. 

You look perfect tonight. Just as you always wanted to look for an event so important to you. Saving a month-worth of your paycheque, you customized this cherry red dress for yourself. The wrap pattern of the dress gives an alluring view of your collarbone and cleavage while the dangerous slit ends in the middle of your right thigh. You decided to let your hair loose and matched your lip shade with your dress.

You look sexy, you look hot, you look beautiful and you look lonely. 

You know what’s waiting for you ahead. The worst part is not people bombarding you with questions about your husband’s absence, it is how pathetic you are gonna look while you accept the best employee award and there will be no one of your own to clap for you. The worst part is also how you are going to hopelessly stare at your colleagues as they dance with their partners tonight. 

You braced yourself up for all of it in advance but somehow tonight you feel less confident than you thought you would. Not having someone to share your special night with, is certainly painful but having someone and not mattering enough to them, hits on a different level. You are a victim of the latter situation. 

Your husband, Park Jimin, is always busy. Well, you can’t really expect anything else from the CEO of one of the leading entertainment companies of South Korea, making him the youngest person ever to gain that position. The responsibilities he has makes him even busier and you understand it all. You understand, that is why he is so reluctant towards your presence in his life. Even though you are his wife, it is still an arranged marriage, held against Jimin’s consent. 

When you met him once before your marriage he clearly told you not to expect anything from him as he is marrying you only for his mother’s wish. There was no malice in his voice, it was just cold. And he has been cold to you ever since. Not that he has any business being any warm to you. 

He didn’t marry you for any business-related convenience. He married you because his mother thought her golden son will end up marrying some girl from the industry and she read news on famous people getting divorced almost every other day. She met your mother at the church, they became friends and worked their ways on being relatives. 

You, a perfectly contained human being with a stressful but nice job, had to cave in to your mother’s wishes because she was worried that her overly-independent daughter may just end up alone, which certainly wasn’t your plan. 

You always wanted to settle down in your career first and then look for a partner, make a home and then kids etc etc. so, when your mother approached you about Jimin, you saw no reason to revolt. But you were disappointed when Jimin told you he wasn’t ready for this marriage and it’s only his mother's wish not his. 

You tried to talk to your mother about it but it all went in vain. 

Both of the ladies were too adamant to get you two married, they threatened to go for a hunger strike otherwise. 

And now you are here. After exactly eleven months and two days of your marriage, you are unhappy and you feel alone more than ever. Jimin never pays you much attention. For the first couple of months you tried to be friends. You cooked dinner, planned dates, gave him gifts but never received anything more than a “thanks” with a tightlipped smile in return. Rather he appeared to be quite uncomfortable about it all, so you stopped trying and stayed away. 

A week ago, you handed him the invitation card of your company’s annual day celebration. You told him it would be nice if he attends, since you are going to be awarded as the employee of the year. He only nodded and said, “I have a press conference that day. I don’t think I can make it. But…” a pause, “congratulations anyway.” 

Your heart broke, tears threatened to spill but you gave him a smile.

For the first time in your married life, you realized that you like your husband and not having him beside you on your special day not only made you feel lonely but also destroyed you. But then again, you can’t make someone love you if they don’t. 

The elevator dinged, signaling you have reached your floor and you prepare yourself for faking excuses and smiles. 

***************

You take a sip of your red wine as you stare at the trophy, which has made itself quite comfortable on the bar-top. 

You should have been on cloud-nine by now, you should have been drowning yourself in drinks, getting wasted and being happy but you are doing none of it. You are definitely happy but not as much as you should be, not as much as you thought you would be. 

You take another sip and that is when someone places a hand on your shoulder,

“Congratulations, milady” says a voice right beside your right ear. It’s Taehyung.  

“Hey. Thanks.” you whisper, without even caring if your voice is audible to him or not. 

“Oh? What is it? Why do you look so down when you should be twerking in the middle of the dance floor?” Tae pouts. His remark makes you laugh. 

“I am happy, Tae. Just a little tired.” you reply wearily. 

“I don’t think so, draling. What is it? Is it your husband?” Tae asks, scooting closer. 

You don’t say anything, choosing to stay silent. 

“That’s why you should have accepted me when I asked you out for like five times in two years.” Taehyung warps a hand around your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. You let yourself relax in his touch. 

Taehyung is incredibly handsome, he is nice, funny, charming and rich. And he is very much interested in you. However, you never saw him as anything more than a friend and colleague. So, you kept on declining his advances. Moreover, you aren’t brave enough to date the CEO’s son and then let people talk behind your back saying that you slept your way up. But today you let your mind wander, today you give it a thought. Maybe if you chose him instead of giving into your mother’s wish, you would have been happy? Maybe you would fall in love with Taehyung eventually? Maybe Jimin would be with someone he actually liked, instead of getting stuck in this relationship with you? Maybe? Just maybe? 

Your mouth runs before you could think it through, “will you accept me now? If I were to divorce my husband and come to you?” 

You catch Taehyung off guard with your question but he quickly gains his sanity back and smiles, “I will.” 

“Will you mind staying a bit away from my wife?” the voice comes from beside you. You know the voice, you know the owner. It’s your husband, it’s Jimin. 

You twist your head at the speed of light and see him standing right beside your barstool. There he stands like the Greek God he is. His perfectly sculpted body is draped in a purple suit accompanied by a purple silk dress-shirt that has its first few buttons opened. His dark hair falls on his eyes, making him look much more appealing than he already is.

You catch him glaring at Tae’s arm, which is encircled around your shoulder. Is he jealous? But why? 

You suppose Tae noticed that too, as he unwraps his hand from your form. 

Jimin now looks directly into your eyes. There is a darkness in his eyes that you never perceived before. Something that makes chill run through your spine. You try to comprehend the situation. You try to think if you are hallucinating or not because there is no way Jimin would actually be here. 

“Sure man. She’s all yours.” says Tae as he gets up from his bar stool and proceeds to leave you two alone. No, you are not hallucinating. Both you and Tae can’t hallucinate at the same time. 

You part your lips to say something but you are immediately interrupted by your co-worker. 

“Y/N! Why won’t you receive your calls? Mr. Park was looking for you like a lost puppy.” says Hyun Mi. 

“Oh? I was… ah distracted.” You reply somehow, avoiding the ice-cold glare that your husband is giving you now. Thanks to your misery, you completely forgot you carried a purse and that had your phone inside it. 

“Very sad. Mr. Park you could have watched your wife receiving her trophy if you came thirty minutes earlier. Anyway, enjoy.” she says again before getting lost into the crowd. 

Jimin walks towards the seat Taehyung was sitting previously and sits down. 

“Congratulations” he says, you nod. You don’t look at him even when he sits closer than he ever had. 

“I thought you had a press conference to attend today?” You ask quietly. 

“It ended early so I came.” Jimin says while waving to the bartender and placing his order. 

“You didn’t have to.” 

“Why? Are you annoyed that your plan of divorcing me got interrupted?” Jimin chuckles. It’s probably the third time in eleven months that you are hearing him chuckling. But this time it’s because of you, and it’s dark, filled with malice. 

You don’t say anything. 

“Who was that guy? Your ex?” he asks again. 

“No. He can be my future though.” You reply calmly, as if you are suggesting something as casual as dinner menu. 

“What makes you think I will let you go so easily?” Jimin places his next question. 

“Your reluctance towards my existence?”

“I am not reluctant towrdas you, Y/N. I am rather very much aware.” Jimin raises his voice a bit.  

“Aware of how much you don’t want me in your life?” 

“No! Quite the opposite actually.” 

That makes you take a look at him, finding him already staring at you. You cock your eyebrow as if to ask for an explanation.   

If you expected him to say something then you are wrong because he changes the topic right away. 

“You look very… beautiful tonight.” Jimin rakes his eyes through your body, which seem to come to a halt when they reach to your chest and then drop down to your exposed thigh. You cross your legs and expose more of your skin as you catch him staring shamelessly. 

He smirks. One of his hands reaches to grab the supple flesh of your thigh harshly. You almost spit your drink out. 

“Don’t tease me, Y/N. I have been having a tough time controlling myself for these eleven months already.” Jimin’s voice drops down a few octaves as his thumb draws invisible circles on your thigh. 

Your eyes widen but you try to play innocent, “What do you mean?” 

Jimin’s fingers glide higher on your smooth skin and it reaches where you have only imagined his fingers before. 

His digits hover above your mound as he mouths, “Let me show you what I mean.” 

*****************

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.