Is He A Baddie Or Just A Curly Haired Brunette

happy VALENTINE

70s teenage dirtbag hamzah and reader

The radio hummed low and warm, a crackling thread of music weaving through the quiet of the car. Hamzah’s fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel, rings clicking against the worn leather, but his mind wasn’t on the road, wasn’t on much of anything except the girl beside him, laughing softly at something he said five minutes ago.

The car smelled like her perfume, like jasmine and something sweet, mingling with the faintest trace of cigarette smoke and the lilies resting in her lap. She had been staring at them ever since he gave them to her, running delicate fingers along the petals, like she couldn’t believe they were hers.

“Didn’t think I was the type, huh?” he had teased when she first saw the flowers, the stuffed bunny, the little box of chocolate-covered strawberries from his cousin’s bakery.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d actually try this hard,” she smirked, but there had been something softer in her eyes, something he recognized.

Hamzah had never cared much for Valentine’s Day. It always seemed like a scam, a way for people to convince themselves they were in love for the price of a heart-shaped box. But her? She changed things. If she wanted lilies and chocolate and soft things wrapped in ribbons, then he’d give her all of it. He’d give her more.

So now, they were nowhere. Just a stretch of road fading into darkness, the distant hum of the city swallowed by trees and open sky. He pulled off onto a hill, parking beneath a massive oak tree, its branches twisting against the stars.

“Is this what you do with all your dates?” she teased, turning to face him.

“Nah,” he grinned, leaning back against his seat, hands loose in his lap. “Just you.”

Her smile wavered, just for a second, but he caught it. She didn’t know how to take it when he was sincere, when he let his guard slip. He kind of liked that.

The car ticked softly as the engine cooled, the wind slipping through the cracked windows. She peeled open the box of strawberries, picking one up and holding it to her lips before pausing. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“I got ‘em for you, sweetheart. Knock yourself out.”

She rolled her eyes, biting into the fruit, the chocolate cracking softly under her teeth. Hamzah watched her, eyes half-lidded, something lazy and fond resting in his gaze.

“Alright, now you gotta try one,” she insisted, plucking another from the box and holding it out for him.

He smirked, leaning forward, but instead of taking it from her fingers, he just bit into it, teeth gently biting her fingertips.

She gasped, pulling her hand back. “Hamzah!”

“What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, licking his lips, “but you like me.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

The music played on, soft and unintrusive, some old soul song he didn’t know the name of. Outside, the world stretched on in every direction, but inside the car, it was just them.

He reached for her hand without thinking, just feeling the need to touch, to hold. She let him, fingers curling easily around his.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

“You always say that.”

“Because you always are.”

She turned to him, fully now, shifting so one leg tucked beneath her. The moonlight poured in through the windshield, catching in her eyes, making them gleam.

“You’re staring,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” his voice was lower now, rougher. “What about it?”

She didn’t answer, just tugged on his collar, pulling him in, slow and unhurried. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft but deepened quickly, something languid and melting, like heat unfurling in the cold night air. His hand found the side of her face, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek, while her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging, teasing.

He sighed into her mouth, pulling her closer, like he could fold her into himself, keep her there. The world outside didn’t exist. Just her lips, her breath, the way she tasted like chocolate and strawberries and something he could never quite name.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured against his lips.

“I know,” he whispered, kissing her again, softer this time. “But I wanted to.”

@issysh3ll

Happy Valentine’s Day my loves🎀

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I need riff lorton x black reader fics

CHALLENGERS — suggestive, no smut, implied smut

frat rafe cameron and frat saxon ratliff x 𝒜ngel reader

The party is loud, music pounding through the walls, the air thick with alcohol, sweat, and something dangerous humming beneath it all. You’re not supposed to be here, not really. You’re the kind of person who shows up at these things with a friend, clutches a red cup full of something you won’t finish, and smiles politely at the chaos around you. You don’t belong in the thick of it. You never do.

And yet, here you are.

Standing by the makeshift beer pong table, watching Saxon Ratliff and Rafe Cameron destroy their opponents with a kind of reckless confidence that makes it look easy. Rafe is silent, his jaw locked, eyes razor-sharp as he lines up his shot, sinking another ball without so much as a smirk. Saxon, though, Saxon is eating this up, grinning as he flexes his fingers, talking shit with a voice that’s way too smooth for someone half a bottle deep.

They’re winning. Of course, they are.

Saxon catches your gaze mid-laugh, eyes flicking to you like he knew you were watching him before you even realized you were. His grin widens, and he raises the ball between his fingers, tilting his head in your direction.

“C’mere.”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to, but because the way he’s looking at you, like he knows something you don’t, makes your stomach twist in ways it shouldn’t.

Still, you move closer, slow, your fingers tightening around your cup. Saxon’s already reaching for you by the time you do, fingers brushing against your wrist, warm and confident.

“Give it a kiss,” he murmurs. “For good luck.”

Your lips part, heat crawling up your neck. “That’s stupid.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Do it anyway.”

You should say no. You really should. But Saxon’s looking at you like he knows you won’t, like he’s already won this game, and somehow, that’s worse. So you do it. You lean in, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss against the ping-pong ball, and you swear he breathes a laugh when you do, quiet and full of something slow and smug.

And then, of course, he makes the shot.

The room erupts into chaos, drinks spilling, voices rising. Saxon basks in it, dragging a hand through his hair as he turns back to you, his grin full of something victorious. Rafe just shakes his head, exhaling sharply like he’s unimpressed, but the way his eyes flick to you as he takes a swig of his drink tells you otherwise.

And that should be it. That should be the end of it. But somehow, it isn’t.

Because now they’re both following you around the party, circling you like you’re something to be won. And maybe you are.

“You a freshman?” Saxon asks, leaning way too close, his breath warm against your temple.

“Sophomore,” you murmur.

Rafe hums, standing just behind you, the contrast between their energies almost dizzying. Where Saxon is all heat and teasing touches, fingers ghosting against your waist, your wrist, your shoulder, Rafe is steady, quiet, eyes dark as they flicker down to the way your breath catches.

“You look like you don’t belong here,” Rafe observes, and there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel small and exposed.

Your throat tightens. “I was invited.”

Saxon grins, tilting his head. “Yeah? By who?”

You glance away. That was probably the wrong thing to say.

Rafe’s hand brushes against the small of your back, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing something. “What’s your major?”

You swallow. “Film.”

Saxon laughs, deep and slow. “That makes sense.”

Your brows pull together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Saxon just smirks, but Rafe, Rafe leans in closer, his voice barely above a murmur. “Means you’re soft,” he says, his breath teasing the shell of your ear. “All sweet and careful.”

Saxon chuckles. “You one of those girls that reads romance novels and thinks she’s above all this?”

You open your mouth to argue, but it’s useless, they’re talking like you aren’t even here, like you’re something fragile between them, something to be studied and toyed with.

“Bet she’s never even done a keg stand,” Saxon teases.

Rafe smirks. “Bet she hasn’t even funneled a beer.”

Your face burns. “That’s not exactly—”

“You drink whiskey?” Saxon interrupts.

Your lips press together. “Not really.”

Rafe leans against the wall beside you, watching the way Saxon tips back his cup, throat bobbing as he swallows. “Not really,” Rafe repeats, shaking his head like that’s amusing.

Saxon grins, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s cute,” he says, and the worst part is, you can’t even tell if he’s mocking you.

Your stomach tightens. “I should go find my friends.”

Saxon tuts, fingers grazing the back of your neck like he’s barely holding himself back. “They can wait.”

Rafe smirks. “Yeah. We’re having fun.”

And the worst part?

They’re right.

The party only grows louder, the heat of bodies pressed together making the air feel suffocating. But somehow, with them, Saxon grinning, Rafe watching, their touches light but deliberate, it’s not the crowd that has your head spinning. It’s them.

You don’t know how it happens. Maybe it’s the way Saxon’s hand finds the small of your back as he leans in, murmuring something low and teasing in your ear. Maybe it’s the way Rafe lingers, his gaze burning into you like he’s unraveling you thread by thread.

Or maybe it’s the way they move, together, separate, effortless in their control.

You don’t know how it happens, but suddenly, you’re upstairs.

The music is muffled from here, the dim hallway a stark contrast to the chaos below. Saxon tugs you forward with an ease that should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not really. He kicks open a door, stepping inside like he owns the place, and Rafe follows, the door clicking shut behind him.

You should leave. You should say something. But Saxon’s already tilting his head at you, his grin lazy and amused.

“C’mere, pretty.”

You swallow. Your feet move before you can think, drawn into the gravity of him.

Saxon’s fingers ghost over your hip, the heat of his touch barely there but still enough to make you shiver. Rafe is behind you now, solid and unyielding, his presence alone making your pulse stutter.

Saxon tips his head, his gaze flickering over your face. “You nervous?”

“No,” you whisper, though the way your breath catches betrays you.

Rafe chuckles, low and knowing. “Liar.”

His hand finds your waist, steady, grounding, and then Saxon’s fingers are brushing your jaw, tilting your chin up. You barely have a second to think before his lips are on yours.

Soft at first, slow, like he’s savoring it. But then he deepens it, his fingers curling around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, swallowing the quiet sound that escapes you.

And then he’s gone.

Your eyes flutter open, dazed, breath uneven. Saxon smirks, running his tongue over his bottom lip like he can still taste you.

“Pretty,” he murmurs.

Your stomach tightens.

And then, Rafe.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hand tilts your chin up just enough before his lips are on yours, rougher, more demanding, like he’s proving something. You whimper against him, and he makes a sound low in his throat, his other hand finding your hip, gripping just enough to make you ache.

When he pulls back, his breath fans against your cheek, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Baby,” he murmurs.

You shudder.

Saxon chuckles, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your arm. “Think she likes that.”

Rafe smirks. “Think she does too.”

And then, Saxon’s mouth finds your neck.

Warm and slow, teasing kisses against the sensitive skin, his breath hot as he hums against you. Your head tips back before you can stop it, lips parting as your hands find his shoulders.

Rafe watches. And then he’s there too, his lips tracing the other side of your neck, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers skimming the curve of your waist.

You should stop this. You should pull away.

But you don’t.

Because when Saxon grins against your skin and murmurs, “You’re so damn pretty,” and Rafe drags his lips up to your ear, whispering, “You like this, don’t you, baby?”

You can’t bring yourself to deny it.

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You can’t convince me that Saxon doesn’t have a thing for cute toes.. he’s a whore for white and pink just trust me🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

We moved on from Lisa Frankenstein too fast..

Literal doll

Me and twin this summer

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

bed chem

- saxon overhears his colleagues question his abilities to please his woman, so he makes sure to let them know just how good he is.

- contains detailed smut (18+ only!) saxon being possessive, oral sex, p in v (unprotected), choking.

saxon never used to be the possessive type until you landed in his grasp. even though he knew nobody could ever steal you from him, it was a quite a irrational fear of his. that you’d wake up one day and wonder what the hell you’re doing with a man like him. why would such a perfect girl give herself to a man who is solely known because of his father? this is what would run through his mind more than he’d like to admit. no matter how many times you’d reassure him, there was always something that threw him back into that mindset.

like today. he overheard a conversation at one his his work events from two of his fathers little sheeps that made his blood boil.

“fucking look at her, how the hell did he manage to pull her?” the man says to his friend, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief as he watched you speak to one of the girls who are inevitably with a man much older, which you knew was only with her man for his money. 

“i know, i bet he doesn’t even fuck her right. daddys boys like him never know how, especially when it comes to someone like her,” before the two could say anything else, you finally spotted him standing behind the two and a delicate smile graced your face. the boys then turned around, finally noticing saxon standing right there. they went pale in the face as you approached.

knowing that he’d definitely heard every word they said based off the angry look saxon was giving them. he could truly be terrifying when he wanted to. you’d seen that side of him many times, but never aimed at you of course. saxon was a powerful man, able to get rid of them with a simple snap of his finger. which is something those men clearly hadn’t yet realized. you stood on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips to his cheek, not realizing his displeased expression until you’d moved your head back. he was still staring at them.

“saxon, is everything ok?” you asked, tone worried as you followed his gaze and set your eyes on the two men you hadn’t even noticed before. he didn’t respond, his large hand wrapped around your arm as he led you away from the area. not questioning a single thing as it was crystal clear something was bothering him a significant amount. he just wanted to leave, and you didn’t ask questions.

once the two of you had made it back to his apartment, you turned to look at him as he closed the door.

“are you mad because they were looking at me? because you know i’d never even think to-” you explained.

“i know you wouldn’t.” saxon interrupted, and your gaze softened.

“then what’s wrong?” you ask once again, approaching him slowly, looking into his eyes. he eventually met your eyes after a moment.

“nothing that you need to worry about, babe.” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours. never would you have imagined saxon could be so soft.

“alright,” you say, a soft smile reappearing on your face. “i’m just gonna freshen up a little, ok?” you add, pressing a kiss to his lips before approaching the bathroom. saxon sat down on his couch, hands rubbing his face as he tried to forget about what he’d heard. which was almost impossible, considering he heard those exact voices outside his front door. the familiar anger began to rise once again as he got up from the couch and passed towards the door, opening it quickly and immediately spotting the same smug faces he was mentally murdering moments ago.

they both gulped, eyes wide as they stood in front of the front door a meter from his. they quickly entered the room to avoid confrontation. saxon stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck they were doing in the apartment next to his. how they could even afford to live in such a luxurious building. before he could do anything else, your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“was someone at the door?” you ask, he turned his head to face you. looking at you adorned in one of his shirts. quietly admiring the way your body drowned in it.

“two dudes just went into the apartment next door. was just wondering what all the noise was.”

“the ones that you were giving the death stare to earlier?” you ask, a cheeky smile on your face. “i overheard them saying something about looking for a new apartment to rent closer to the office. i guess they found one.” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you stared at your boyfriend. he shook his head, trying to hide his displeasure to the information he’d just heard. “are ya gonna tell me why that bothers you or?”

“it doesn’t bother me,” he lies, their words repeating in his head as he approaches and places his big hands on your waist. kissing your lips delicately. “just a little stressed i think,” he says as he places his mouth to your neck, the feeling of his rough stubble stabbing your skin in the most delicious way. you whined softly.

and that’s when he got the idea. the idea that would prove to those stupid guys how good he fucks you. how stupid they were to underestimate his abilities and care when it came to your pleasure. he smirked against you, lips abusing your skin and his hot tongue trailing over your sensitive spots. his hands found your ass, squeezing your cheeks sadistically which caused a sudden gasp to escape your throat.

“that’s it, let me hear your pretty sounds,” he says as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bed. 

he dropped you onto the mattress and hovered his frame over yours. his lips found yours once again, and you whined as his tongue slipped between yours. he’s all too familiar with how vocal you can be. even with his hand over your mouth or your head buried into the pillow, he can hear you crystal clear. he knew anyone nearby would be able to hear if he didn’t hush you, and that’s exactly what he wanted. for those stupid little pricks to hear how good he makes you feel. over and over.

his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft skin. you whined louder this time. you were so goddamn submissive under his touch, it drove him crazy.

he raised his stolen t-shirt up your body, exposing your torso as he lowered his head. trailing kisses all over your soft skin. you were addicted to the feeling of his stubble against you, he’d barely done anything and you were already a whimpering mess. his head trailed lower and lower. licking the skin above your panty line as he hooks his fingers into the edges of the fabric. effortlessly peeling them down your legs and throwing them off to the side.

he began peppering kisses to your inner thighs, feeling his hot breath against your dripping cunt was driving you wild.

“saxon…” you whimpered loudly, legs trembling in suspense of the act that he was about to do. you were expecting him to respond. something like “be patient” or “good girls know how to wait, yeah?” but he didn’t, he latched his lips onto your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed. your hand flew to your mouth, biting down on the side to muffle your moans. but saxon stopped.

“no, baby. let me hear you,” you nodded your head, staring down at him between your legs. noticing the glistening shine of your wetness on his chin under the dimmed lighting of the bedroom.

“good girl,” he said before diving back in. aggressively eating you out as he’s done many times before. your moans were quick to fill the room. your hands flew down to grasp at his brown hair. you spread your legs wider, giving him as much access to you as possible.

“s-saxon, i’m about to… i can feel it-” you whine breathlessly as your orgasm approaches. hitting you fast before you could continue your stuttered sentence. loud whiny moans filling the room as you rode out your high.

he didn’t halt until your legs began twitching, licking up all of the cum you provided for him in exchange for an orgasm. he climbed back up your body slowly, leaving sloppy kisses up your stomach along the way.

he was proud of himself knowing how good he could make you feel with little to no effort. enamored by the way your body reacted to his touches. he know the boys would’ve heard everything he’d just done, but of course, he wasn’t satisfied just yet.

his hand wrapped it’s way back around your throat once his face aligned with yours, his stumble damp with your cum.

“all wet,” you said, smiling as your hand raised to his face. tracing along the wet area of his face. “wanna make somethin else wet too,” you added, moving the same hand between your bodies and palming his hardened cock over his pants.

“where did you ever learn to be such a dirty girl?” he grunted, a slight smile on his face as he moved your hand and pinned it beside your head.

“we both know the answer to that,” you bit your lip as his hand tightened around your wrist, looking up at him through squinted eyes. he moved back to remove his shirt, and you bit your lip as he did so. you followed his steps and removed your own. clothes thrown carelessly to the floor.

he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down, not bothering to completely remove the articles of clothing. he was getting impatient. he hovered over you once again, his large hands separating your thighs as far as they could go and lined himself up with your dripping entrance. he wasted no time, thrusting forward and impaling you with his cock with no warning. you screamed, hands flying to grasp his shoulders as he quickly set a brutal pace. your back arched off the mattress, pressing firmly against saxons as he pounded into you.

“oh, f-fuck. saxon!” you moaned, the head of the bed clunking against the wall with each of his intense thrusts. he grunts into your ear sadistically, fingers leaving crescent shapes on your thigh as they dig into your skin.

“wanna feel you cumming around me, baby. think you can do that for me?” he asks, you nodded your head. tears dripping down your cheeks as the pleasure because too much for your body to cope with.

it didn’t take long for another orgasm to pulse through your body, legs trembling around saxons torso as you chant his name. before you could process anything else, he’d flipped you onto your stomach. shoving his cock deep inside you once more as he held your hips to him. despite being extremely sensitive from your previous orgasms, you still craved more of him. your loud moans echoed off the walls as he took you from behind. clenching your walls around him to coax his orgasm out of him. craving the feeling of his cum flooding into you. 

you felt another orgasm approach as his thrusts became sloppy, indicating that he was also moments away from finishing.

“saxon!” you moan, clutching the bedsheets below as the two of you came together. saxon eventually stopped once your highs had subsided. he tiredly flipped you onto your back once more, tracing his rough fingers along your damp cheek.

“y’think anyone heard us?” you ask, voice breathy as your tired body rests comfortably beneath him.

“hard for em not to,” he replies, tracing his finger along your bottom lip before placing a soft kiss there.

and it was safe to say they’d definitely heard based on the looks they were giving the two of you the following morning. saxon smiled proudly, hand resting on your waist as the two of you walked past them, knowing he’d never have them foolishly questioning his abilities to pleasure his girl again.

I was wondering if you could do a Lochlan Ratliff x reader where she’s also visiting Thailand and they just have a whole romantic time together like puppy innocent love

SOMEONE NEW

lochlan ratliff and reader

The sun glistens on the surface of the pool, water shifting like liquid gold as guests lounge nearby, the soft hum of conversation mixing with the occasional splash. You let your hands drift through the cool water, your body weightless as you float, eyes half-lidded against the heat. Everything feels slow, dreamlike, the kind of afternoon where time doesn’t seem to move at all.

And then you notice him.

He’s at the far end of the pool, standing waist-deep in the water, running a hand through his damp hair. He looks out of place, not in a bad way, just… different. Like he’s unsure of what to do with himself. His light eyes flicker around the pool deck, glancing at the groups of people laughing and talking, before landing on you.

For a second, neither of you move. Then you smile, small, unsure, just enough to acknowledge the moment.

He smiles back, hesitant at first, then real.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight, the water rippling around him.

“Hi,” you reply softly.

It’s quiet for a beat, neither of you quite knowing what to say next. You’re not even sure why you say it, but the words slip out before you can stop them.

“Wanna play mermaids?”

His brow furrows, his lips parting slightly in confusion. “Mermaids?”

You nod.

For a moment, he just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re serious. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a small laugh. He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“I, uh… don’t think I know how to play mermaids.”

You grin, tilting your head. “It’s not that hard. You just have to swim like one. Kick your legs together instead of separately.”

He squints, like he’s considering it, then exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not! Just try it.”

He sighs dramatically, like he’s about to do something humiliating, and then dives under. You follow, watching as he awkwardly keeps his legs together, barely making any progress through the water. When you both surface, you’re already laughing.

“Okay, that was terrible,” you tease.

“Yeah, no shit,” he breathes, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. “How do you do it so fast?”

You shrug. “Years of experience. You’re talking to a pro.”

His lips twitch, like he wants to say something sarcastic, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you for a second before blurting, “I’m Lochlan, by the way.”

You give him your name in return, and he repeats it like he’s testing how it feels in his mouth.

The afternoon drifts by in easy conversation, playful splashes, and attempts at swimming like mermaids that leave both of you breathless with laughter. You don’t expect to see him again after that—vacation friendships are fleeting, and the resort is big enough that you could easily go the rest of the trip without running into him.

But later, as you’re walking through the lobby, you hear someone call your name.

You turn and find Lochlan jogging toward you, slightly out of breath, as if he had to talk himself into doing this.

“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—do you wanna… umm.. walk around or something? Shop? Get food?”

Before you can even answer, a voice cuts in.

“You’re ditching me for her?”

You glance over and see a guy much older, very handsome, lounging on a nearby chair, watching Lochlan with a smirk. He looks between the two of you, then shakes his head in exaggerated disbelief.

Lochlan shrugs. “Yeah… sorry Saxon ”

Saxon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Have fun with your little date.”

Lochlan’s face flushes, but he ignores him, turning back to you. “So?”

You nod. “Yeah. I can go.”

The streets are alive with movement, a warm glow settling over the market as the sky begins its slow descent into dusk. You and Lochlan weave through the crowd, stopping at every other stall, fingers brushing as you reach for the same thing more than once. Neither of you acknowledge it, but neither of you pull away, either.

“You would totally rock this,” he says, holding up a sequined button-down, his face completely serious.

You snort. “Oh, absolutely. I was just thinking I needed something to blind people with.”

He grins, shoving it back onto the rack. “What about this?” He pulls out a pair of neon pink shorts.

You deadpan. “I think you should get them.”

He holds them up to his waist. “Be honest—do they bring out my eyes?”

You pretend to consider. “You might be starting a whole new fashion trend.”

Lochlan laughs, tossing the shorts back. “Okay, so no pink shorts for me. Got it.”

As you move deeper into the market, the scent of grilled meat and spices fills the air. A street vendor calls out in Thai, waving a skewer of something unidentifiable.

“You ever had that?” Lochlan asks.

You shake your head. “Let’s try it.”

He gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t argue, ordering two. The first bite is a mistake. You both cough at the same time, grabbing for drinks as your faces scrunch up in unison.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, swallowing quickly. “What was that?”

“I have no idea, but I think my mouth is on fire,” Lochlan says, eyes watering as he fans his tongue.

You burst out laughing, and despite the disaster, he does too.

The evening air is warm as the two of you wander through the night market, weaving between stalls filled with silk scarves, carved elephants, and street food sizzling on open grills. The smell of grilled skewers and fresh mango fills the air, and Lochlan reaches for your hand without thinking, pulling you toward a stall selling colorful woven bracelets.

“You think this would suit me?” he asks, holding up a bright pink one.

You laugh. “Absolutely not.”

He smirks. “I’m getting it anyway.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something soft about the way he looks at you as he hands over a few baht, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist.

“Now you have to get one too,” he says.

You shake your head. “That’s not how this works.”

“Sure it is,” he grins, grabbing another bracelet, this one blue, softer, the color of the ocean at dusk. Without asking, he takes your wrist, fastening it gently around you. His fingers linger just a little too long, his touch warm against your skin.

Your heart stumbles.

For the rest of the night, you don’t let go of each other’s hands.

As the night deepens, the market glows with lanterns, the energy shifting into something softer, quieter. Without really thinking about it, you slip your hand into his again even after only letting go for two minutes. He doesn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers, squeezing lightly like he’s been waiting for this moment all day.

At the end of the market, you pause near a quiet corner, away from the crowd. The silence between you is comfortable, but there’s something else there, something unspoken.

Before you can overthink it, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

It’s barely a second, but when you pull away, Lochlan is already looking at you.

And then, without a word, he tilts his head down and catches your lips in his.

It’s quick, just a heartbeat, but it’s enough to leave your stomach in knots.

When you part, you meet his gaze, your breath still unsteady. His hand, still laced with yours, tightens slightly.

For a second, neither of you move.

And then, slowly, he leans in again.

This time, you don’t hesitate.

By the time you’re standing outside your room, the resort quiet except for the distant hum of the waves, neither of you want to say goodnight.

Lochlan hesitates, shifting on his feet, then reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek, feather-light, and you swear he’s closer than he was a second ago.

“Thanks for today,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Me too.”

And then, before you can second-guess it, you lean up and kiss his cheek.

It’s meant to be quick, a simple goodnight. But the second your lips touch his skin, he turns his head, just slightly, just enough.

Your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft, barely more than a breath, but it sends a rush of warmth through you, curling in your chest, your fingertips.

When you pull back, his eyes are wide, searching yours, like he’s wondering if that really just happened.

You don’t say anything. You don’t have to.

He smiles, small, almost shy.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Night,” he murmurs, watching you as you step inside, closing the door behind you.

And when you press your fingers to your lips, still tingling from his, you already know—

sorry this is long I got lost in the sauce..

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