Val

Summary: They say there’s a man who lives hidden away in a lonely castle, cursed not by magic but by rejection and solitude. Jungkook, once part of the village, now hides behind a mask to cover the scar on his face—convinced no one could ever love him. His only comfort lies in the flowers he tends in silence… until an unexpected visitor steps into his garden and quietly begins to change everything. What starts as an intrusion blooms into a secret bond, a fragile spark of hope. And when the moment comes for him to take off the mask before you, the truth will reveal whether it can be more beautiful than the lie.

Genre: Romance, hopeful angst, poetic fantasy, strangers-to-lovers, slow burn, reveal, acceptance.

Word Count: 9k – split into 3 parts (about 3k each).

Warnings: Themes of angst/melancholy, Isolation, social rejection, Personal insecurity (facial scar), Slow-burn romance, Hopeful ending with a kiss, (No smut or explicit violence)

A/N: This one-shot is inspired by the story behind BTS’s The Truth Untold, reimagined with Jungkook as the lead. It’s about the quiet beauty of being vulnerable, and how true love can see beyond the masks we wear. This is part 1, here you can find Part 2 and Part 3.

The Truth Untold (Part 1)

The whisper of the wind through the trees was the only thing that breathed life into the forgotten mansion. Within its stone walls, wrapped in ivy that seemed to claw at the façade, stretched a garden that defied time. Crimson roses, white lilies, chrysanthemums in warm shades—all bloomed as if unaware of the abandonment that lingered beyond the rusted gates.There, among sweet fragrances and soft petals, lived Jungkook.

No one saw him, no one visited him, and perhaps no one even missed him.

His world had shrunk to this garden. The trickle of water falling onto damp soil was his only companion; the flowers, his only family. Since childhood he had learned to hide, for the scar that cut across his face was enough to summon cruel stares, whispered insults, and merciless rejection.

Over time, fear and shame pushed him into exile behind those walls, until he convinced himself it was better to remain invisible.But everything changed the day he heard footsteps.

POV JUNGKOOK

At first I thought it was the wind. Then came the faint crack of branches, the brush of fabric against shrubs. My chest tightened, and my hands clenched the rake with sudden force. —“Who dares step in here?”—

I hid in the shadows of the greenhouse, peering through the narrow slit of the door. That’s when I saw her. A young woman, moving with cautious curiosity, leaning over the lilies. Her hand trembled slightly, as though afraid to break them, but she plucked one, held it to her chest, and smiled.

Heat rushed through me, sharp and bitter. Anger. —“¿How dare she touch the only thing that belongs to me?—

I wanted to burst out, to shout at her to leave. My lips moved, but no sound came. Instead, I stayed hidden, silent. And as I watched, something inside me faltered. That smile… it wasn’t mocking, nor cruel. It was pure, filled with light. And just like that, my rage extinguished, like a candle snuffed out by rain.

-----

The first time I stumbled upon that place, it was an accident. I had followed a winding path through the trees, seeking escape from the noise of the village. I needed air, I needed silence. My steps carried me farther than I intended, until the ivy-draped silhouette of the mansion appeared. Villagers whispered it was cursed, abandoned for decades, but instead of fear, I felt curiosity.

Pushing past the rusted gates, I found the garden—and I was left breathless. It was a hidden oasis. Every flower seemed cared for with devotion, as though unseen hands touched them daily. I moved toward the white lilies; they had always been my favorite. Their petals glowed in the soft light of afternoon. Without thinking, I plucked one. Guilt never came—only wonder.

Yet something unsettled me. A sharp prickle at the back of my neck, the sense of being watched. I spun around, but found only shrubs and moss-covered stone.

I shook my head, laughing under my breath. —“Don’t be silly. There’s no one here.”—

------

In the days that followed, Jungkook’s gaze lingered more often toward the gate. He would never admit it— not aloud, not even in his thoughts— yet a new expectancy had begun to bloom inside his chest.

The intruder returned. Always moving slowly, as though afraid of being caught, yet her steps carried her straight to the heart of the garden. Each time she leaned over the flowers, Jungkook held his breath, hidden in the vines, cloaked in shadow.

At first, he had seen her as a thief, someone stealing the little he had. But with every visit, his anger shifted into something far more dangerous: the silent desire for her to come back, the need to see her smile with a flower pressed to her lips.

He began tending most carefully to the blossoms she touched. The lilies, especially, seemed to multiply beneath his care, as though responding to her presence. Jungkook left quiet traces —fresh blooms here, an early cluster of roses there. She gathered them unknowingly, never realizing they were messages written in petals.

----

I didn’t understand why I kept returning. There were gardens closer to home, squares in the village filled with blossoms. Yet nothing compared to the peace of this hidden place.

Every time I stepped inside, I breathed differently —deeper, freer— as if the air itself were blessed.

I began to notice small details. Flowers that looked wilted one day bloomed anew the next. Pots damp with fresh water, though I never heard a soul nearby. Who cared for this place?Sometimes, while gathering a bouquet, I swore I heard a sigh behind the vines.

And though a shiver ran down my spine, the thought of not being alone only drew me closer.

------

Thus, the garden became their secret stage. She entered with curious steps and gentle hands; he followed her with his eyes from the shadows, like a ghost bound to his refuge.

No words passed between them, only silences stretched long enough to feel like promises. He cared for the flowers as if each petal were a message he could not speak aloud. And she, unknowingly, answered him with every return, with every smile she left lingering in the air.

And from within that quiet game, a dangerous thought began to take root. Jungkook could not reveal himself as he truly was —yet neither could he bear to remain unseen forever. If a mask could give him a new face, then perhaps, just perhaps, she might look at him without turning away.

Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: Jasper never thought he’d see her again. Once part of Victoria’s clan, their connection had always been dangerous, intense… forbidden. Now, so many years later, she shows up in Forks, pretending they never shared anything. But Jasper is done pretending.

Warnings: Tension · Vampires · Flashbacks · Reunited lovers · Enemies to lovers · Smut

A/N: Accepting requests for the next one-shot — feel free to suggest any fandom or character you want to see next.

4000 Words

Between What We Were and What Still Burns

Forks was always heavy. Even for someone like Jasper who didn’t need to breathe, the air pressed against his skin like a reminder of how slow and quiet this place was.Until she showed up.He saw her walking down the school hallway, books in her arms, that same look in her eyes—confident, calculating, unreadable to most… but not to him. Her scent, her energy—he knew it before her eyes met his. Except they didn’t. She walked past him without flinching. No hesitation. No glance. Like he was a stranger. Like they hadn’t lived through blood, betrayal, and burning glances in the shadows of Victoria’s rule.

Flashback: (so many years ago)

—“She’s using you.”—

—“I know.”—

—“Then stop obeying her.”—

—“If I come near you, I won’t stop.”—

—“Then don’t stop.”—

He didn’t move closer. He left.

End of flashback

And now she was back. Enrolled as a regular high school student. In Forks. Smiling at teachers, playing along like she didn’t remember him.But Jasper could feel everything she tried to bury.

The tension came to a boiling point at a house party that weekend—Newton’s, too many teens, too much alcohol, and not enough space. Jasper didn’t usually go to these things. But tonight, he had to.He saw her the moment he walked in.She stood by the far wall, drink in hand, smile fake, shoulders too stiff to be relaxed. And when he stepped into the same room, she froze for a second—barely noticeable, unless you could *feel* emotions the way he could.He waited. He didn’t approach right away. Watched her move from room to room, pretending. Hunting him without ever looking at him.She ended up alone in the kitchen, back to the door, looking out the window. She didn’t turn when he walked in.

—“Didn’t expect you here.” —she said, voice calm.

—“Didn’t expect to *feel* you here.” —he leaned against the doorframe.She slowly turned, eyes cool, but her fingers clenched the glass in her hand.

—“It’s been a while.”—

—“So many years.”—

—“Surprised you still recognize me.”—

—“You haven’t changed.” —his eyes traveled down her frame

—“Still smell the same.”— She raised a brow.

—“And you still talk too much.”— Jasper stepped closer. She didn’t move away.

—“Why are you here?”—

—“Got tired of hiding.”—

—“And the fake act at school?”—

—“Would a dramatic reunion in the middle of Biology have made you happy?”—

—“Might’ve made it easier to stop pretending.”— She snorted, then looked down, her voice dropping a notch.

—“You didn’t come looking for me either.”—

—“You disappeared.”—

—“You let me.”— Silence.

—“It wasn’t just Victoria.” —his voice was low

—“You and me… it was real.”— She shook her head, lips tight.

—“It was reckless. Tension. We were both bored and trapped. We never—”

—“Don’t.” —he cut her off

—“Don’t lie.”— She glared.

—“You think you knew what I felt?” He stepped closer. Inches between them.

—“I felt everything. I still do.”— She licked her lips slowly, tension radiating off her like fire.

—“Then what do you feel now?”—

—“I want to tear your clothes off.” —he said without hesitation

—“Every time you look at me like that.” She tilted her head.

—“Like what?”—

—“Like you want the same damn thing.”— He didn’t wait. He kissed her hard, hand fisting in her hair, dragging her closer as she gasped into his mouth. Her hands slammed into his chest—pushing or pulling, he couldn’t tell. The kiss deepened, raw and rough, all teeth and tongues and years of pent-up need.

—“You still taste like trouble.” —he murmured against her lips.

—“And you still taste like danger.” —she whispered, pulling his shirt up over his head.They broke apart long enough for him to lift her easily, carrying her upstairs with vampire speed and slamming the door behind them.Clothes hit the floor like dead weight. She pulled him down by the belt loops, mouth hot and eager against his neck.

—“You’re shaking.” — he breathed against her collarbone.

—“I’ve wanted this for so long it hurts.”—

—“Then let it hurt.” He pinned her to the bed, dragging his lips down her body like he was starving. His hands were everywhere—gripping, teasing, claiming. Her nails raked across his back, and he growled low in response.No one touched like this. No one knew him like she did. Not after all this time.His name was a gasp on her lips, again and again, as their bodies met in a rhythm older than the years between them.It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t romantic.It was desperate.His strength held her in place as her back arched beneath him, as she cried out and clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring her to this world.And maybe, in that moment, he was.

They stayed tangled in silence after. No words. Just heavy breaths and too much history in their bones.Eventually, she turned to him.

—“What now?”— Jasper met her eyes.

—“Now… you stay. And you stop pretending we were never real.”— She didn’t answer. Just leaned in and kissed him again—slow, deliberate.

Not for the past.

Not for the fire.

For the *now*.

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Summary: She's Bonnie's younger sister. He's the vampire who shouldn't even be looking at her. They hate each other... or at least pretend to. But during one messy party, years of tension and vampire cravings finally explode.

Warnings: Smut, intense desire, supernatural strength/speed, explicit language, enemies-to-lovers tension

6,371 Words

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Halfway Enemies

The Gilbert house had the kind of parties that started calm and ended in chaos. A bonfire out back, warm lights, music in the living room, drinks in cheap plastic cups, and people constantly moving in and out like no one was actually hosting. She showed up late, as always—tight jeans, a black crop top, and a jacket that didn’t do much against the cold. Bonnie, her sister, had begged her not to come. Or if she did, to at least stay away from Damon. As if that were possible.She felt him the second she walked in. Somewhere near the living room, holding a bourbon, eyes already fixed on her like he knew she’d show up. He didn’t say anything at first just watched. But his gaze weighed on her. Burned through her.

—“You promised you wouldn’t talk to him,”— Bonnie whispered when she spotted her.

—“Who said I’m planning to?”— she replied, glancing around, feigning indifference.

—“He’s not a game. And you provoke him.”—

—“I don’t provoke. He chooses to be tempted.”—

Bonnie scowled but walked off with Elena, leaving her near the makeshift kitchen bar. And then, of course, he showed up.

—“The rebellious Bennett showed up alone?”—

—“Don’t you have someone else to annoy, Salvatore?”—They locked eyes. He was leaning on the counter, her hand around an empty cup. The world could keep spinning, but between them there was only tension. Thick. Constant. Unbreakable.

—“You look… dangerous tonight,”— he said in that low, smug voice.

—“And you, as always, dying to taste what you shouldn’t.”— Damon smirked with that crooked grin, and she looked away before her face betrayed her. She couldn’t react. Couldn't give him that power.

Time passed. The music got louder, lights dimmed. Everyone was drinking, dancing, or disappearing into corners of the house. And her... she kept running into him. Once, twice, until there was no escape.She found him upstairs, in the hallway, supposedly looking for the bathroom. Or so she told herself. He was already there, waiting, like he'd sensed her coming. His smile was different this time less mocking, more… hungry.

—“Not running away from me… are you?”—

—“Why would I?”—

—“Because you know what happens when you’re alone with me.”—Before she could respond, he was in front of her, his vampire speed pinning her lightly against the wall. He didn’t touch her fully. Just looked at her. Breathing slow. Intense.

—“I swear I’m trying to behave,”— he murmured.

—“Well, you’re doing a terrible job.”—That was the breaking point.He kissed her... rough and unrestrained, like he’d been holding back for years. She kissed him back just as fiercely, clutching his jacket. Damon lifted her like she weighed nothing, carried her down the hall, lips never leaving hers, and kicked the door shut behind them. He pinned her against the bedroom wall, their bodies flush.

—“You look so fucking good,”— he groaned, dragging his mouth to her neck. Her body trembled. He felt it.

—“You look so fucking desperate,”— she whispered, voice already shaking.

Damon growled, hands on her waist, dragging her top up with a swift pull. His touches were rough, but precise, like he knew exactly how to ruin her. And she didn’t stop him. She wanted to be ruined.

—“You have no idea how hard it’s been not to take this. Since the first time I saw you.”—

—“Then do it, babe. Break me if you dare.”—

He didn’t need a second invitation. He laid her down on the bed, hovering over her, eyes burning. She sat up immediately, biting her lip, teasing him. And it worked. It always did.They undressed between kisses and friction, hands pulling, mouths gasping. Damon touched her like he needed to memorize every inch. His vampire instincts were running wild—speed, hunger, obsession. He was relentless.

—“You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”—

—“Since that night you looked at me at the Lockwoods' party.”—

—“Fuck.”—He slid inside with one powerful thrust, pulling a cry from her lips. Gripping her hips, he moved hard, deep, like he needed to lose himself in her. She couldn’t move his strength held her perfectly still, balanced, pinned, yet pleasured.She clung to him, trembling, kissing him hard, gasping for breath. Damon was all over her—mouth, hands, body, rhythm. He devoured her moans, chased her reactions

.—“Say it again,”— he panted.

—“I hate you… babe,”— she moaned.

—“I hate you more… gorgeous,”— he growled.

They came almost together, trembling, bodies tensing and relaxing at once. Damon didn’t pull away. He just held her, forehead against her collarbone, breathing her in like she was his only oxygen.

—“This doesn’t change anything,”— she murmured with a half-smile.

—“Of course not.”—

—“I hate you.”

—“I hate you more… sweetheart.”—

Sana x Jihyo (Sahyo)

Summary: When Jihyo and Sana started sharing a room, neither expected the closeness to slowly burn into something unspoken. What began as harmless glances and late-night talks turned into a quiet obsession. Until it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

Warnings: GL smut, soft dominance, emotional tension, explicit content.

5,796 Words

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More Than Routine

Sharing a room in the company dorms didn’t seem like a big deal. For Sana, it was actually perfect. Jihyo was always organized, calm, responsible—and incredibly attractive. But that last part was something she wasn’t supposed to think about, especially not when both were lying in their beds, lights off, the quiet wrapping around them like a blanket.At first, things were simple. Jihyo played soft music to sleep, Sana used her silk eye patch. Each had their own routine. But slowly, boundaries blurred. Jihyo would casually change clothes in front of her, and Sana’s eyes would linger. Sana talked in her sleep sometimes, and Jihyo would watch her in silence before turning back to her book. They were getting to know each other in a way that felt deeper than conversation.Jihyo noticed. She wasn’t naive. She could tell when someone was watching her too long, when silence between two people started humming with something more. And with Sana… that hum was deafening.

—“Do you always stay up this late?”— Jihyo asked one night, her voice low in the dark.

—“Only when my mind’s full”—

—“What’s in there tonight?”—

—“You”— Sana murmured before thinking. The pause after felt sharp.

—“Oh”— Jihyo replied simply. But in the darkness, a small smirk appeared on her lips.After that, things weren’t quite the same. Conversations got deeper. Eye contact lasted too long. When their fingers brushed by accident, the spark lingered.

On a rainy night, when the sound of droplets against the window filled the room, everything shifted.

—“Can I ask you something without you pulling away from me?”— Sana said softly.

—“You can always ask”— Jihyo replied, already watching her.

—“Have you ever thought about kissing me?”—She didn’t answer right away. Jihyo sat up slowly, crossing her legs. Sana mirrored her, knees nearly touching.

—“Many times. But you never seemed ready”—

—“What if I am now?”—

—“Then come here”— Jihyo said, pulling her blanket back slightly.Sana crossed the room as if walking on glass. She climbed under the covers, facing her, heart pounding.

—“I don’t want this to be just curiosity”—

—“Then it won’t be”—Their first kiss wasn’t rushed. It was slow, tentative...exploratory. Sana sighed against her lips like she’d been waiting for it for months. Jihyo held her face gently, deepening the kiss with firm control. Always a leader, always knowing when to take the reins.—“You’re trembling”—

—“Because of you”—Jihyo kissed her again, slower. As they shifted closer, hands found places they hadn’t dared touch before. Jihyo slipped her fingers beneath Sana’s shirt, drawing soft lines along her waist. Sana leaned into it, breath catching.—“Are you okay with this?”— Jihyo whispered.—“More than okay… sweetheart”—She laid her down slowly, lips brushing her neck, her collarbone. Sana closed her eyes, warmth blooming in her chest, in her skin, everywhere Jihyo touched. Her shirt was lifted inch by inch, revealing skin Jihyo had dreamed about for far too long.—“I’ve imagined this so many times”——“Then make it real. I’m yours”—That night became a symphony of whispers, slow kisses, deep breaths. Jihyo was firm, confident, attentive.

Sana gave in completely, wanting more, needing more, her body aching for everything Jihyo could give her.—“Tell me how you like it, pretty”—

—“Any way you want… just don’t stop”—

—“I don’t plan to. Not after tasting you like this”—And she didn’t.When it was over, Sana lay curled up against her, body still buzzing. She traced lazy circles on Jihyo’s chest with her fingers, voice soft: —“I don’t want this to be just tonight”—.

Bada Lee x Reader

Summary: A fan attends multiple BEBE fansigns. Bada begins to notice her and connects through Instagram. Their teasing messages soon spiral into something hotter and much more intimate once they’re alone.

Warnings: Gl smut, explicit language, sexting, strap-on, scissoring, idol/fan dynamic.

A/N: This is my first time writing anything GL. I wanted to explore a buildup full of tension, attraction, and heat. Hope you enjoy this fantasy as much as I did writing it.

3,950 Words

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I Saw You in the Crowd

The first time felt like coincidence or at least, that’s what she told herself. She was seated third row at a BEBE fansign, heart racing, palms slightly shaking. When her turn came, Bada looked right at her and smiled, just a little off to the side. —“What a pretty smile, sweetheart”— the dancer said as she signed her poster. Their hands brushed, just for a second, but the heat from that contact lingered long after the event was over.

She went to the next fansign without hesitation. This time, a different hairstyle, something bolder. When she walked up to the table, Bada raised an eyebrow as if she’d expected her. —“Weren’t you at the last one?”— she asked, voice low and intimate. —“Maybe”— she replied, though her heart was punching through her ribs. —“I like your vibe. Hope I see you again”—. And then, that grin. The one that lived rent-free in her head every night before sleep.

By the third fansign, things had shifted. Bada spotted her from the crowd and gave her a small nod. When she reached the table, Bada didn’t wait. —“So you’re officially a regular, huh?”—. —“Depends is it worth it just to see you?”—. Bada chuckled, leaning in while signing. This time, she scribbled something different: *«DM me if you’re into more than stares. —B»*She thought it was a joke—until she got home and saw the notification: @badalee__ had followed her. And sent her a message. —“You look even hotter in your stories. Do you always dance like that, or just to tease me?”—

They talked daily after that. At first, it was casual jokes, choreography tips, a few selfies. But soon, the tone changed. Bada dropped fire emojis on her dance clips, started to flirt openly. —“Let me see that new crop top… for science”—. She played along, at first shy, then bolder. She sent clips of her dancing seductively, biting her lip, knowing full well who was watching.Bada didn’t hold back. —“Look at me and say you don’t want this”— came with a sweaty mirror selfie in low-rise pants and a sports bra. Things only escalated. —“What if I don’t want to resist?”— —“Then come do something about it, sweetheart”—. She replied with a photo—herself on the bed, oversized tee, no pants, legs tucked up. —“I’d get on my knees if you asked, baby”—. —“You will. And more than that”— Bada answered.

That was the match to the flame.Weeks passed in a haze of late night voice notes, flirty selfies, and teasing audio clips that turned downright filthy. Until one message changed everything. —“I’m in your city for two days. I want to see you. Just us”—. She didn’t even hesitate.

The dance studio was bigger than expected—high ceilings, walls lined with mirrors, and a soft amber light that made everything feel dreamlike. She stepped inside, hands cold, heart hammering. A few moments later, Bada appeared from the back, water bottle in hand, her hair loose, wearing a fitted two-piece set that outlined every inch of her figure. —“You came”— Bada smiled, like it was no big deal, like she didn’t already own every single one of her thoughts.—“Didn’t want to keep you waiting”— she replied, trying to sound cool. Her voice gave her away. Bada stepped closer, calm and steady, like she already knew resistance was pointless. Her eyes scanned her slowly, shamelessly, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers. —“You’re even prettier in person… but I already knew that”— she murmured, her voice soft and personal.She smiled, unsure of what to say.

Bada’s eyes didn’t leave hers. It was as if she could see every dirty thought that had passed through her head for the last month. —“Why did you really ask me to come here?”— she asked. —“Want the truth?”— Bada stepped close, almost chest to chest. —“Because I’ve been thinking about you. About your body. The way you move. The way you stare at me like you’re starving but don’t dare say it”—. Her breath grazed her neck. No contact yet—but the tension coiled tighter than any touch.—“What if I just came to dance?”— she whispered, teasing. Bada’s smile was slow, wolfish. —“Then dance for me, baby. Make me feel all the things you’ve been scared to text”—.She turned the speaker on—something slow, sultry. Then stepped back. So she danced. Slow at first, swaying with the beat. Her hips rolled, arms lifted, head tilted back just enough to let her eyes stay on Bada the whole time. Every step, every spin, every bend was silent seduction.—“Yes… keep your eyes on me while you do it”— Bada murmured, not even moving. Mid-spin, Bada caught her waist, stopping her. The music kept playing. Neither of them noticed anymore. —“I’ve seen you dance on video, cutie… but up close like this? Makes me wanna do things that definitely aren’t PG”—.She gasped— —“What’re you gonna do now that no one’s watching?”— Bada pushed her gently against the mirror, hands around her waist, body hovering but not touching. —“Whatever you let me do, baby… and I really hope you let me”—.

Then the kiss. Deep, slow, burning. No turning back.Bada kissed her like a hunger finally fed. Their clothes disappeared one piece at a time, breath by breath. Bada kissed her neck, her collarbone, and her chest, whispering —“You taste even better than I imagined, sweetheart”—. She moaned, trembling, thighs slick with need. Bada eased her down onto a thick mat, opening her bag to pull out a sleek black strap-on and harness.—“Do you trust me, baby?”— —“Yes. Make me yours”—.

Fingers came first. Tongue next. Slow, wet, patient. Every moan was devoured like praise. —“So wet for me already… and we’re just getting started”—.She slid the strap-on in carefully. The first push made her arch. The second pulled a breathy —“Fuck, yes”— from her lips. —“Look at you, taking all of it just for me”—. Bada rocked into her slowly, gripping her waist, murmuring filth between gritted teeth, watching her melt. Her moans filled the room, echoing against the mirrors.Then, Bada flipped her on top. —“Ride me, baby. Show me what those hips were made for”—. She rode with abandon, gasping, chasing every inch. —“Don’t stop… fuck, Bada”—. —“You like being my good girl, huh, baby?”— She nodded, crying out again, body clenching.When her climax hit, it stole her breath, vision fuzzy. But Bada wasn’t done yet. —“Wanna try something else?”— She nodded again, boneless.

Ron Weasley x Reader

Resumen: Caught between O.W.L. prep and the chaos of Dumbledore’s Army, a secret night in the Shrieking Shack becomes more than just a break — it becomes everything.

Warnings: Soft/explicit smut · Romance · +18 content · Set during movie 5

N/A: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything, of any kind, so this one-shot means a lot to me. It was written with love, trying to balance sweetness, desire, and that aching need to just escape for a while. Thanks for reading.

3,580 Words

|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ | ୧୨ ꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |

Silence in the Screams

Breathing had become hard at Hogwarts lately. The air felt thick, almost like the walls were pressing in. The O.W.L. exams were relentless, Dumbledore’s Army was under constant watch, and every hallway seemed to carry a pink, poisonous glare. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just breathed. And she’d always thought of herself as strong.

So when Ron leaned in during a D.A. meeting and whispered —“I need a break.”— She knew exactly how he felt. She offered something wild.— “The Shrieking Shack?”— he asked, eyebrows raised as they walked under the Invisibility Cloak. — “Isn’t it haunted?, That’s what people say”.— she replied, calm and steady. — “But I know the way. Harry showed me.”

They reached the Whomping Willow just as the sky deepened to navy blue and stars began to pierce through. She picked up a rock and hit the knot in the trunk with precision. The tree froze. Ron blinked.— “You sure about this?”—She turned to him. The fear wasn’t about ghosts or creaking floors. It was about him, his freckles, the way he’d been looking at her lately. The way she had been thinking about him too much, too often.— “I’m sure.”

They slid into the hidden tunnel. He followed close behind, and even in the silence, she could hear his breath. Quick. Uneven. She felt it too — not fear, but that kind of sweet panic you get right before kissing someone for the first time.— “Why here?” — he asked, voice low.— “Because there are no rules here. No one’s watching. No interruptions.”— He stepped ahead slightly, glancing over at her. Their faces were just inches apart. She could smell him, wand smoke, mint, and something that was just Ron.— “You wanted to be alone with me?”— She looked down, blushing.— “Yeah. I did. I wanted just you. No Harry. No Umbridge. No world.” He let out a soft breath and smiled a little. —“You drive me crazy, y’know that?”— She blinked, caught off guard. —“How so?”— “I can’t stop thinking about you, pretty girl. Doesn’t matter how many essays I’ve got or how loud Harry’s yelling about Snape, if you’re in the room, I forget everything. Even how to breathe.”— Her heart skipped. She reached for his hand and held it, wordlessly. That was enough.

They emerged into the Shrieking Shack. Dust floated in the air like soft snow, and the only sound was their footsteps. She lit a soft flame in the old fireplace. Instantly, the room felt warmer, like the haunted past had given them permission to exist. He sat next to her on the tattered sofa. Silence. Then Ron turned to her, his voice quieter now.—“Sweetheart… why me?”— She touched his cheek gently.— “Because with you, I feel safe. And real. Like I can breathe again.”— He kissed her. Slow, sweet, a little clumsy. His lips trembled. His fingers found her waist, unsure, barely touching. They pulled away, breathless.—“You good?”— he asked, thumb brushing her cheek. She nodded.—“I need more of you. I need all of you, babe.”— His voice cracked.—“I need you too, baby. So bad.”—

They peeled off layers of clothing like they were shedding months of weight. His fingers were shaky, hers too, but every caress made it easier. When she let her top fall and felt his eyes on her bare skin, her whole body flushed.—“Godric… you’re perfect.”— She smiled shyly and pulled him down into another kiss. When they were finally skin to skin under the blanket she conjured, the rest of the world vanished.—“I’ve never done this.”— he admitted, hands on her hips. —“But I wanna do it right. I wanna do this with you, sweetheart.”— “Me either.”— she whispered, forehead resting against his. —“But I wanna learn. With you. I love you, Ron.”—

He kissed her deep, eyes fluttering shut. His body moved over hers slowly, carefully, like he didn’t want to break the spell.—“Tell me this is okay. That you want me.”— She looked up at him, lips swollen from kisses.—“I want you, baby. All of you. Don’t stop.”— He pushed in slowly. They both gasped.It was clumsy and honest and raw. Their fingers intertwined. He moved gently, watching her face, whispering broken praise.—“You feel so good… so damn warm… can’t believe you’re mine, baby…”— “Don’t stop… please… keep going, my love…”—

Their breaths got heavier. Her back arched. He held her tighter, burying his face in her neck. They moved together, every thrust deeper, more desperate. Her nails scratched his shoulders. He kissed her jaw, her collarbone, her chest — every part of her worshipped.—“I love you.”— he breathed against her skin. —“So fucking much.”— They reached their peak wrapped in each other’s arms, trembling and breathless. Time paused. Ron stayed inside her, holding her close, lips brushing her forehead.—“Never thought I’d feel anything like this. I love you more than I know how to say.”— She wrapped her arms around him, pressing close.—“I love you too. Stay with me.”—

They lay there, warm and tangled under the charm-lit room. No ghosts. No homework. No pressure.—“You think anyone’s looking for us?”— he asked sleepily.—“Let ’em wait.”— she murmured, tracing circles on his chest. —“Right here with you is the only place I wanna be.”— And for the first time in forever, they weren’t afraid.