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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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Hey, can I request some Toji, please? 👉🏻👈🏻 having sex with him after an argument and silent treatment for several days, but not like wild fucking, but kinda intimate and passionate 😔 like imagine you finally make up after an argument and he missed you soooo much and he want to kiss everywhere, look you in the eyes and praise the hell out of you 🥺

Damn, I need soft Toji bad 😭 wish you a great day 🫶🏻

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: arguing!? make up sex!?!? with soft dom toji!!??? ahhhhhhh—

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - implied argument + make-up sex - kissing/making out - Daddy kink - oral (m! + f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - anvil/mating press + spooning positions - cockwarming - praise - unprotected sex - multiple orgasms - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweet baby, sweetie) - Toji being whipped + missing you, i'm so soft - itty bitty angst in beginning + fluff on SMUT on fluff - mention os spit/drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k

Toji didn’t like having arguments with you. They made you distant from him, pushed him away, and he’ll feel like utter shit until things subside after kissing and making up. And when the tension between you lasts for an entire week? Oh, that makes him experience a new gut-wrenching definition of guilt.

Avoiding him is a torture he doesn’t want from you — oh, he can’t stand it. When you use the shower in the morning after he uses it in the nighttime, when your eyes don’t acknowledge his existence, or when you sleep far into your side of the bed with your back to him while he’s in a state of unease trying to find sleep without your warmth on him.

A whole week of nothing but side glances and avoiding being in the same place as him, especially in your shared apartment. With every passing day, the pressure growing felt like you two were drifting apart — something Toji would never want between you. He already lost one love of his life; the mere thought of losing another was strong enough to have his stomach drop.

It drives him so fucking crazy, especially when you’re in the kitchen washing dishes, Megumi and Tsumiki are at a sleepover, and him on the living room couch, supposedly watching sports highlights. But he can’t; his thoughts are too occupied reflecting on you — missing you. God, did he miss you — so fucking much that he shuts the television off and walks to the kitchen with a purpose.

He brings you in with an embrace, spooking the daylights out of you that you almost jumped. You thank your stars you were done washing the dishes by the time he came around, or else he’d give you another thing to be mad about. “J-Jesus, Toji…! Scaring me like that, what are you—“

“I’m sorry.”

Two words — that’s all it takes to silence you, and your body stiffens in his hold. Toji takes this time to indulge in having you in his arms after such a break, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your abdomen and his face buried in the crook of your neck. The way your breath hitches at his lips on your shoulder, he kisses the skin exposed from your tank top. Fuck, you make him go insane.

“I don’t want us like this, baby,” he proceeds, sighing deeply when his hand creeps to your wet one to grasp. “Pushin’ you away from me like this, it’s drivin’ me crazy. Don’t avoid me because of dumb shit I did or said.” You were listening intently; the TV was off, so there’s no way you’d be ignorant enough to close him off. But you didn’t say anything yet, making the raven-haired man keep going. “This silent treatment, it’s fuckin’ with me; sleepin’ far on one side with y’r back to me, taking showers at different times, and not looking at me in the eye…” A kiss to the neck has you breathing cautiously. “Makes me think I’m losin’ you, and I don’t want that. So….I’m sorry.”

He can’t lie; the stillness between you two has him anxious, barely keeping it together and fighting the quiver of his fingers from showing. He nearly misses your signal — slapping his forearm wrapped around your stomach. Toji loosens his hold on you, and you turn around to face him. It feels like it’s been forever since the last time your eyes were on his for more than a second, and he freezes at the touch of your hands cupping his face.

“You’d never lose me, Toji,” you say to him in a whisper so the world doesn’t intervene with this moment. You bring your face to him to kiss the scar on his lip and return the hug. “And I’m sorry, too.”

There’s hesitance when he circles his arms around your waist again, but your frame on him gradually puts him at ease. “Sorry ‘bout what?”

You peer up at him with your chin on his chest. Goddamn, your beauty was unreal. “For not apologizing sooner.”

Toji hums with an aimless nod. “So,” he brings a hand to cup your cheek, and you lean to his touch. “Are we cool?” You nod with a smile. “Good.”

You repeat. “Good.”

A few seconds go by when his viridian orbs are locked in with yours before his face draws in close. “I missed you…”

Your eyes instinctively close. “I miss—Mmm.”

Your sentence is cut off at the contact of his lips on yours, asking for permission by laying himself onto you more and licking your bottom lip. With your hands enveloping his neck, you open your mouth to receive him. A moan slips out when he pushes his tongue gently, the hand on your cheek coming around to hold you by the back of your head.

The kiss gets hot and steamier with every peck, the hand on your waist slithering down to grope your ass hiding inside your leggings. You wail as your frame hits the sink, and Toji uses this to cage you into him. A strong leg comes in between yours, having you essentially ride him as you lovingly suck his tongue. And it gets intense when he slams his face to yours, taking in your sweet noises that poke him to make more.

Sounds of lips smacking together fill the kitchen space, and your hands find their way inside his sweatshirt to roam over his back. And Toji loves your touch on him; how he yearned to feel your fingers on his skin again.

Oxygen is needed to carry on, so he breaks the kiss for you both to breathe. Heavy pants are shared at the union of your foreheads pressing together. You huff prettily with hooded eyes up to him, unveiling a smile as your fingers play with the black strands on his nape.

“I missed you, too, Toji." You finally say to him, sealing the fate for what’s to happen into the night.

“Hahhh, fuck, keep suckin’ me like that, mama…Shit, I missed this.”

You two are now in the comfort of your shared bedroom, no longer acting like strangers in your bed. Hands and lips show no interest in being away from bodies; Toji, in particular, uses this time to get his calloused hands drunk on feeling your curves, dents, and skin.

And you’re on the same boat, placing soft kisses on whatever place you can find. His lips, his clavicle, sneaking inside his sweatshirt to tweak and lick his nipples before trailing down to the dent of his sweats. Pulling the pants down sprung out his hard-on, and you feverishly greet his cock with your mouth.

Toji gets lost in the sensation of your lips and tongue, gripping the sheets at his dick and being swallowed whole into your warm throat. Fuck, you were so good at this, using your hands to stroke him as you sucked his glans harshly while gingerly massaging his balls. Your humming on him feels so good that his hand goes to your head to steady himself.

“Fucking Christ,” he curses under his breath, and his hips jerk to create friction. He wants to come so bad, stuff your face with his dick, and pump his load into you. But no, not right now. He taps your cheek, and you bat your eyes at him. “Mmm, c’mon, sweetie. Let’s switch.”

You take out his cock from your mouth and a string of saliva sticks to you and his cockhead. “But you didn’t—“

“Don’t worry; I will later,” he squishes your cheeks, wiping spit from the corners of your lips. And he means that because being one with you is what he wants more than anything tonight.

But before that, he needs to have you be prepared for him. After all, it has been a week.

“—Ahhhh, ahhhh, Tojiii, I just came…!”

“There you go, baby,” his baritone voice rocked to your core, his tongue licking and sucking the skin of your inner thigh. “Keep makin’ a mess for me...”

He nestled between your legs, his mouth stuffed in the proximity of your cunt that’s been orally stimulated for the past few minutes now. All for the sake of prep, yet Toji missed being close to your vagina like this, sucking your slick with ease.

Fuck, your taste in his buds was nearly nostalgic. It all felt familiar — felt right. His tongue swirled around your labia to make you whimper, shoving it inside your entrance to essentially fuck you on his tongue, resulting in pretty screams as you grab tuffs of raven hair. And since you just came, your legs trembled with sensitivity, trying to close your legs to shield yourself.

But that’s not what’s happening tonight, not with Toji. His hands easily hold your legs by the back of your knees, exposing your beautiful, soapy chaos of a chasm to him for him to enjoy. His face is so crowded between your legs and folds that his nose bumps and presses to the hood of your clit. You cry at his hold on you, forced to take whatever his tongue gives you.

“Moohhh, hooohh, To’jiiiii,” you’re shrieking when he laps on your clitoris, and your frame jolts from the onslaught. “Stooohhhpp! I can’t…!”

“Yes, you can,” he removes himself from your slit, licking your essence plastered on his scarred lips. Toji rests his head on the thigh where his hand is massaging. A low chortle leaves him when you shake your head, sneaking his free hand to your cunt where his middle and forefinger insert efficiently. You gasp sharply, and his thick digits go to work. “Don’t tell Daddy you can’t, sweet baby; I need you to be all wet for me.”

The title he uses on himself has your walls twitch on him. “Hahhh, I’m wet enough…Ohoo!!”

“Aht, aht, none of that,” he coos while pressing a thumb on your clit, and you wail at him as he makes circles on your bud. “Gotta have you all ready for me…” The squelches of his fingers exploring your insides are hot to hear. Fucking Christ, Toji couldn’t get enough of you, trying to fight the urge to plunge his mouth back on your cunt when you smell too good to resist.

His eyes flickered back to your face when you shudder at the scrape of his blunt fingertips on your velvety texture. “D-Daddyyy, I’m gonna cummm…”

You make him snicker. “Yeah? You gonna cum?” He takes his tongue and runs an excruciatingly sluggish lick to your clit; it has you gripping the sheets. “Gonna make a mess on Daddy again, pretty thing?” You nod hastily with a chewed lip, fuck you looked so cute being desperate for him. He removes his finger with a deep sigh. “Mmm, ‘kay, stay still fr’ me, baby.”

You find that impossible as he descends back to your leaking slit to lick and suck like crazy, his hands on your hips to keep your writhing figure from escaping the older man sucking on your nectar. Christ, you tasted so good, his jaw wet from pushing his face further in to have more of you in his mouth as possible, chasing you to ride out another orgasm for him to drink on.

He’d make you cum for the second time that night. Something you know is essential as you’re soon bent on your back, your legs to the air supported by his shoulders, and constant wails fly out your slippery lips and bounce the walls of your bedroom. You can only thank the Lord that the kids are not home right now…

“Hmaahh! Nhhaahh!! Daddyyyy, Daddyy….! Too much, I’m ‘oo full—Oooo!”

“Hghh! Hhhshiiiit, this pussy…! Try’na milk me dry, huh, sweet thing…”

Clothes have long been discarded to the bedroom floor, and the ceiling lights turned off for the natural lighting of the moon to shower the space, Toji’s nude, powerful body on top of yours as he pistons his cock into you at an irregular pace. Sweat keeps the strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and hoarse grunts evade him with every dig of his dick venturing inside you.

The position helps him go deep into the places both you and he can’t reach, his fat girth stretching your entrance and the tip stimulating your G-spot with grazes to your vaginal walls. His jabs become more accurate when he adds his weight onto you, caging you between him and the mattress to have your chasm tighten around him more. You howl, clenching on his length at every scratch of your sensitive areas. And it doesn’t help the fact he drives himself down to the hilt, balls deep into your creamy cunt.

“Tahhh, ohhhh, good God,” your eyes shut, taking out the sense of seeing to indulge in the others. The many sensations coursing through your fatigued frame are borderline addicting — given the fact that this is the fourth time Toji’s making you come. You’re practically drowning in the scene; any more than this, you’re bound to turn into actual putty.

Toji taps your cheek to have you open your eyelids for him. “Hey, mama,” your heart skipped at his handsome, disheveled look. Emerald eyes capture your gaze, and the smirk on his face lifts the scar. “Watch how good y’re takin’ me.”

Your stare travels down to where your sex is joined with his, white fluids exiting out of you and making a ring around the base of his shaft. You can sense the come from the round prior trailing down to the crevice of your ass; so fucking dirty. It all looked so erotic and forbidden to the eyes, throbbing on him a lot more.

“Daddy, please—Mmmph!”

“What, sweetie,” his hips change to an intermittent rhythm, evoking more cries to escape your pretty lips. He examines every feature in your expression, admiring how sexy you look under his bow. “Tell Daddy what you want.”

It hurts to think, but you try to muster a response despite your head going through such a haze. “Let me c’mmm on you, pleaseee!”

“Good girl,” he stops moving his pelvis to maneuver, standing on his knees, removing your legs from his shoulder to lie them down. Toji then comes from behind you, scooping you to his side for your body to mush with his in for a cuddle. You gasp at him inserting his cock back in, humming at the stretch of his girth that fills you up and scrapes your upper wall.

Toji returns his pelvis in thrusting motions, and your head rests on his forearm. The push of his dick grinding against your velvety texture has you squeaking in high pitches, a hand finding purchase on his rocking hip.

“Fuck,” he observes you, looking so effortlessly gorgeous by his side — he missed this so fucking bad, having you near him like it’s where you belonged. The hand you’re resting on comes around to cup your breast, fondling the mound lovingly, which makes you arch to him more. His free hand brings your chin to him, “So fuckin’ beautiful fr’ me, baby…”

The kiss makes you clamp onto him tighter, and Toji reacts by dialing the speed. He trails his lips to your cheek and the crook of your neck to lay more kisses and suck on your skin. The hand on your breast squeezes it, occasionally pressing down on your nipple with his forefinger. Yet it doesn’t distract you from the constant stimulation of your G-spot, screaming and toes curling from the diligent strokes against the wall of your vagina.

Your brain turns into mush, spit coming down your agape lips, and your brows furrow while Toji squishes your cheeks. “Ohhh, Daddy, right thereeee, I’m so close…!”

“Me too, sweetie, a lil’ bit more…—Aiishh!” He can feel it, his length pulsating inside you when your orgasms climb together. He brings your mouth back to his, taking your delicious screams when your bodies lock in together to climax.

A few more harsh thrusts to your ass, and Toji spurts his load into you, sinking into the pleasurable sensation of your folds contracting around his girth. Your hand scratches his hip, muffled howls taken by him while the hand on your breast sneaks away to grasp your hand, fingers intertwining to seek connectedness.

Quivering bodies soon calm down when the wave of their finish is finally gone, and you two sigh deep into a passionate kiss. It breaks with a soft noise while he nibbles on your lip before letting go. “Toji,” you said his name in stifles, your hand caressing his sweaty cheek.

The older man huffs, placing his hot palm on your cheek to stroke in return. “Yeah, mama?”

“Sleep,” you demanded with a sigh, fatigued eyes and trenched brows. The single word has you both chuckling in the hot air between you before he kisses you gently one last time. Exhaustion takes over you both, Toji bringing the comforter to put around your bodies, laying his head on the pillows as you rest yours on his arm, your hand still held with his.

His free hand guides you to be pressed up against him, his cock still inside your creamy cunt. He’s comforted by the snug of your walls and the flesh of your body molding with his hot, sturdy frame. Sleepy green eyes go to the creek of the curtains covering the bedroom window. “Maybe we outta argue more often.”

He knew that would make you giggle; the faint rise and fall of your shoulder is highlighted by the moonlight creeping through the window. “Good night, Toji.” The way you said his name sounded like a spell, closing his eyes at the somnolent tone.

“Night, baby.”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

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deepestdelulu · 6 months ago

Text

How to brain dump like a pro

what you need

a messy notebook (I like the Leuchturm bullet ones)

a pen

a beverage for emotional support (or several <3)

how to get started

grab your notebook, and sit down in a quiet moment with enough time so you won't stress even more. The point of a brain dump is to unload all your thoughts, everything that is stressing you is put to paper. not aesthetically, no cutesy Pinterest vibes; we need it plain, unromanticised, and personal.

some prompts to get you going

do I have any deadlines coming up?

have I been making time for myself and my hobbies?

what projects, tasks, appointments, and/ or plans are currently stressing me out?

am I procrastinating anything?

am I properly looking after myself? (mental/physical health, skincare, hobbies, school/work, etc etc)

am I currently working through any challenges, and if yes how is that going so far?

how are my friends/relationships doing?

is there an area in my life that I should prioritise right now?

do I feel confident and comfortable at the moment?

Review and reflect

take some time and go over your writing; you can underline or highlight the points that you find most important. make this whole "brain dump" thing a routine; sometimes it takes a bit of writing until you actually get comfortable with putting your emotions onto paper (it sounds easier than it is..), but the more often you do this, the more comfortable you will get!! <3

As always, please feel free to share your own suggestions and tips in the comments! <3

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

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flux1563 · 3 days ago

Text

Bastard Manager ft Eunbi

Words :5k

The rain pattered rhythmically against the car window, creating a hypnotic pattern that Eunbi found oddly comforting. She stared out into the gloomy night, her reflection blurring with the neon lights of Seoul. The city was a living creature, pulsing with energy, but tonight it felt eerily distant.

Eunbi was no stranger to the spotlight. As a member of the top K-pop group, she had danced under a million lights and sang to countless fans. Yet, as she sat in the quiet car, the weight of her secret pressed against her chest, threatening to suffocate her. Her glittering career had been built on a foundation of lies and desperation, and now it was crumbling, leaving her with nothing but debt and despair.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. It was another message from the mysterious website she had stumbled upon. The allure of quick cash had been too tempting to resist, and now she found herself contemplating the unthinkable. She had signed up to sell herself, piece by piece, to strangers in the digital abyss.

The message read, "Come to this hotel, don't wear a bra and panties." A shiver ran down her spine as she read the cold, direct words. The reality of her decision was setting in, and she felt a mix of fear and excitement. She had never been so exposed, not even on stage with millions watching her every move. This was different. This was real, raw, and unfiltered.

Eunbi took a deep breath and slipped out of her clothes, feeling the cool air kiss her skin. She looked in the mirror, her eyes wide with a mix of anxiety and determination. The reflection staring back at her was a shadow of the confident idol she once was. But she knew that if she was going to survive this, she had to push aside her fears and embrace this new, darker side of herself.

Her heart racing, she stepped into the rain, the cold droplets mixing with the hot tears that streamed down her face. The neon lights reflected off the wet pavement, creating a path she had never intended to walk. As she approached the hotel, she felt a strange sense of empowerment. For the first time in months, she had a plan, a way out of her misery.

The lobby was quiet, almost eerie. The receptionist barely glanced at her as she walked by, her head held high despite the nakedness beneath her raincoat. The elevator ride to the top floor was painfully slow, each floor that passed adding another layer of anticipation. When the doors finally slid open, she stepped into the dimly lit hallway, the plush carpet muffling her footsteps as she made her way to the suite.

The door opened, revealing a man in a sharp suit, his eyes scanning her body with a hunger she had never seen before. He didn't bother with pleasantries; he knew what she was there for. She took a step inside, her raincoat slipping off to reveal her bare flesh. The room was filled with an oppressive silence that seemed to swallow her whole.

Eunbi's stomach twisted into knots as she closed the door behind her. She took in the luxurious surroundings, trying to ignore the coldness that seeped into her bones. The smell of expensive cologne filled the air, a stark contrast to the dingy hotel rooms she had been forced to stay in while hiding from her debtors.

The man, who had introduced himself as Y/N, gestured to the center of the room, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Take off your raincoat," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. She complied, her hands trembling as the raincoat fell to the floor, revealing her nakedness. The room's warmth washed over her, a stark contrast to the chilly rain outside. "Now, dance for me," he said, his voice a caress that sent a shiver down her spine.

Eunbi took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. She had danced thousands of times before, but never like this. She started with a slow, seductive rhythm, her movements calculated to entice and tantalize. The rain had left her hair plastered to her skin, framing her face in a way that highlighted her vulnerability. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she pushed through, her body moving almost on autopilot.

Y/N watched her with an unnerving intensity, his eyes devouring every inch of her as she danced. She could feel his gaze on her like a physical touch, making her skin crawl with a mix of fear and arousal. The music in the room was low and sultry, setting a tone that was both intimate and disturbing. She danced closer, her body moving in a sensual wave that made him lean forward in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers.

As the dance progressed, she began to lose herself in the rhythm, her fear giving way to a strange sense of power. This was her body, and she was in control. She spun and twirled, her breasts bouncing gently with the movement, her hips swaying in a way that made Y/N's eyes darken with desire. The rain outside had turned into a crescendo, matching the tempo of the music, and she felt a strange kinship with it—both forces of nature, unpredictable and untamed.

The dance grew more intense, her movements becoming bolder and more deliberate. She could see the effect she was having on him, and it was intoxicating. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt alive, like she had a purpose. And that purpose was to satisfy the man before her, to make him want her so badly that he would pay any price.

Y/N stood abruptly, his patience wearing thin. He removed his own clothes with the grace of a predator revealing itself before the kill. His body was lean and powerful, a stark contrast to the softness of hers. "Sit on my lap," he ordered, his voice now a demand. The authority in his tone sent a thrill through her body, and she found herself obeying without hesitation.

Eunbi straddled him, her knees pressing into the plush fabric of the chair. His hands immediately found her breasts, his rough palms cupping and squeezing them. Each slap sent a jolt of pain through her, but she couldn't deny the pleasure that followed. She gasped and moaned, her nipples hardening under his touch. His eyes never left hers, his gaze burning into her soul as he explored her body.

The sound of his hand meeting her flesh echoed in the quiet room, a symphony of desire and desperation. The sting grew with each hit, turning into a crescendo that made her moan louder, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, a testament to her effect on him. The power dynamic had shifted, and she was now the one in control.

Her hands slid down his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his abs before wrapping around his length. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut briefly before snapping back to hers. "Keep dancing," he murmured, his grip on her hips tightening. She began to grind against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. The rain outside had become a cacophony, mirroring the chaos within her.

The dance grew more frenzied, their bodies moving in a silent symphony of need. His hands never stopped slapping her breasts, the pain now a familiar companion to the pleasure building within her. The world outside was forgotten, replaced by the rhythm of their bodies and the thunderous applause of the storm. She could feel herself getting wetter, her desire for him growing with every slap.

Y/N leaned in, his breath hot against her skin as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling it gently. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before, a mix of pain and pleasure that sent shockwaves through her body. She arched her back, pushing herself closer to him, silently begging for more. He took the cue, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, making her cry out.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he switched to the other breast, his tongue swirling around the tight bud before biting down. She gasped, her legs trembling, and she felt a rush of wetness between her thighs. The storm outside mirrored the tumultuous emotions inside her—fear, excitement, and a deep, primal need she had never fully acknowledged before now.

The dance of his mouth on her breasts grew more intense, each suck and bite sending her closer to the edge. She could feel his erection pressing against her, demanding entry, and she knew that she would give it to him. This was what she had come for, to feel wanted, needed, and alive again. And as his hand slid between her legs, she knew that she was about to experience something she had never felt before—complete and utter surrender.

He found her wet and ready, his fingers slipping easily into her folds. The sensation was almost too much to handle, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she pushed herself closer, grinding against his hand as he explored her body. His thumb found her clit, and she bucked against him, her body screaming for more.

With a final, lingering bite on her nipple, Y/N stood, lifting her with him. He walked her over to the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly under their combined weight. He laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers, as he positioned himself between her legs. The anticipation was agonizing, her entire body trembling with need. And when he finally pushed inside her, she couldn't hold back the scream that had been building in her chest.

The pain was sharp, but it was quickly overshadowed by the feeling of fullness, of being claimed by someone so powerful and commanding. He didn't ease into her gently; he took her roughly, his hips slamming into hers as the storm outside reached its crescendo. Each thrust sent a jolt of lightning through her body, making her arch off the bed with every stroke.

Eunbi's nails dug into the sheets, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to process the overwhelming sensations. She had never felt so alive, so alive that it hurt. The rain pounded against the window, the sound melding with their heavy breaths and the slap of skin on skin. It was like the world outside was echoing the chaos within her, and she reveled in it.

"Tell me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Tell me how good it is."

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his intense gaze. She could feel the power in his demand, and she eagerly surrendered to it. "It's... it's amazing," she panted, her voice shaking with each word. "I've never felt anything like this before."

The storm outside was a cacophony of sounds that seemed to be egging them on, the thunder rumbling in time with their passionate cries. Each time he slammed into her, she could feel the vibrations resonate through her entire body, setting off explosions of pleasure deep within her core. "It's so good," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea for more.

Y/N's pace quickened, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss that stole her breath away. Her words of praise only seemed to drive him wilder, his hips moving with a fervor that had her body singing with need. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into his back, urging him deeper.

"You're so tight, so wet," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "You're perfect."

The compliment sent a bolt of pleasure straight to her clit, making her moan louder. She had never been talked to like this, never been treated like a goddess whose sole purpose was to give pleasure. It was intoxicating, addictive, and she never wanted it to end.

"It's... it's so good," she gasped, her body tightening around him. "Don't stop."

His hands found her hips, his grip bruising as he angled himself to hit her in just the right spot. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over her, building and building until she was sure she would shatter.

"I'm going to come," she whimpered, her voice a desperate cry. "I'm going to come for you."

And just like that, she did. Her orgasm tore through her like a hurricane, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

"One," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain's furious applause.

Y/N chuckled, the sound dark and sinister. "Good girl," he praised, his strokes not faltering. He leaned down, his teeth grazing her ear. "Now, let's see if you can hit two."

Her body was already sensitive, on high alert from the first wave of pleasure. Each thrust sent sparks flying, her muscles tightening around him. She could feel it building again, that pressure deep within her, threatening to break free.

"Two," she moaned, her eyes squeezed shut as another orgasm claimed her. The sound of the rain was a constant drumbeat in the background, a reminder of the world outside that she had left behind for this moment of pure, carnally driven need.

"Impressive," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But let's not stop there."

He shifted his weight, his movements growing more deliberate. His hand found her clit, his thumb circling it with the precision of a maestro conducting an orchestra. The pleasure grew, swelling like a crescendo in her chest.

"Three," she screamed, her body arching off the bed as the orgasm hit her like a freight train. The storm outside had reached its peak, the thunder echoing her cries of pleasure.

Y/N's own need was palpable, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he worked her body. He was relentless, his hips driving into her with a force that had her seeing stars.

"Again," he demanded, his voice a growl.

"Four," she gasped, her voice shaking with each number she recounted. The room was a whirlwind of sensation—the heat of his body, the coolness of the air conditioning, the slickness of their combined desire.

The numbers grew higher, each orgasm more intense than the last. Her body was no longer her own; it was a vessel for pleasure, a canvas for Y/N to paint his desires onto. She lost track of how many she had, her mind a haze of pleasure and pain.

"Keep going," he urged, his voice strained. "I want to hear you scream my name when you hit ten."

The challenge only served to excite her further. She pushed herself, her body responding to his every touch, every demand. The storm outside seemed to be cheering her on, the lightning flashes illuminating the room in stark white, freezing moments of ecstasy in time.

"Five," she cried out, her voice hoarse.

"Six," she moaned, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The rain had become a symphony, playing to the rhythm of their bodies. The thunder was their crescendo, the lightning their spotlight. And she danced for him, her hips moving in time with his, her moans a sweet melody that filled the air.

"Seven," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

He leaned down, his teeth grazing her neck. "Three more," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise.

Her body was on the brink, teetering between agony and euphoria. She had never felt like this before, never known that she could come apart so beautifully. Each number was a victory, a declaration of her sexual prowess.

"Eight," she screamed, her voice raw with passion.

"Almost there," he encouraged, his thumb working her clit with an unyielding rhythm.

The storm raged on, their dance a silent battle cry against the forces that had brought her to this point. She was no longer Eunbi, the desperate K-pop idol drowning in debt. She was a goddess of passion, a siren calling forth the storm's fury.

"Nine," she chanted, her eyes rolling back in her head.

The room was spinning, her senses overwhelmed. She could feel the tension coiling within her, tightening with every beat of her racing heart.

"And now, for the grand finale," he whispered, his voice a dark promise in her ear.

With one final, earth-shattering thrust, she reached her climax.

"Ten," she scream.

Her body shakes uncontrollably, muscles clenching around him as she rides out the most intense orgasm of her life. Her back arches back, pushing her breasts upward, and she feels his hands dig into her hips, his grip tightening as he follows her over the edge. The storm outside seems to crescendo in response, the thunder rumbling like an approving cheer.

As she finally catches her breath, gasping for air, Y/N pulls back slightly, his eyes boring into hers with a fierce intensity. "Scream it," he commands, his voice low and demanding. "Let me hear how good it was."

Eunbi's cheeks flush, but she obeys, letting out a raw, primal scream that fills the room. "It was good," she cries out, her voice hoarse and trembling. "So, so good."

He starts to move again, his hips rolling into her with a relentless rhythm. "Keep counting," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving hers. "Every time you come, I want to hear you scream it out."

The challenge ignites a fire within her, and she throws herself into the role. Each thrust sends a bolt of pleasure through her, making her body tighten and release in a symphony of sensation. She counts out her next orgasm, her voice growing stronger with each number. "One," she gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head as he hits just the right spot.

The storm outside seems to respond, the rain pounding harder against the windows, the thunder growling in the distance. It's as if the room has become a stage, and she's the star of a show she never knew she wanted to perform in.

"Two," she cries out, her body shuddering as the pleasure builds again.

Y/N's strokes are deep and deliberate, his movements designed to push her to her limits. And with each number, she feels herself slipping deeper into the abyss of desire, her inhibitions fading away.

"Three," she screams, her nails digging into the bed as another wave of pleasure crashes over her.

Their bodies move in a frantic dance, the storm outside keeping tempo with their passion. She's lost count of the orgasms, lost track of time, lost herself in the overwhelming sensations.

"Four," she whispers, her voice strained, her breaths coming in pants.

He leans down, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing her cries as he drives into her. His hand slides down her body, his fingers finding her clit, and she feels the pressure building once more.

"Five," she wails, her body tightening around him like a vice.

The storm reaches a crescendo, the thunder so loud it feels like it's inside the room with them. The lightning flashes, illuminating their entwined forms in stark relief, casting their shadows on the wall.

"Six," she gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides the crest of another climax.

Y/N's strokes grow more erratic, his own pleasure evident in the tension of his body. He's close, she can feel it, and the knowledge sends another shock of arousal through her.

"Seven," she shouts, her voice a wild cry to the heavens.

The rain is a constant drumbeat, the thunder a bass line to their rhythm. She's lost in the music of their bodies, the symphony of their passion.

"Eight," she moans, her voice breaking as the intensity builds.

He whispers sweet nothings in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. His other hand finds her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple as he continues to fuck her with an unyielding need.

"Nine," she pants, her hips bucking against his.

The storm outside mirrors their internal chaos, the lightning flashing like strobe lights as they reach for the pinnacle of their shared ecstasy.

And then, with one final, desperate thrust, she hits the peak. "Ten," she screams, her voice hoarse and ragged.

Their bodies come together in a cataclysm of pleasure, the storm outside seemingly applauding their performance. For a moment, time stands still, and she feels like she's floating, suspended in the eye of the storm.

Their breaths mingle in the quiet that follows, the rain now a gentle patter against the glass. She opens her eyes to find him watching her, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"Well done," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You've earned your payment."

Eunbi's body feels boneless, her muscles turned to jelly from the relentless pleasure. She opens her eyes, a hazy smile on her lips, only to find his expression has shifted. Gone is the hunger, replaced by something more calculated, more dominant.

"Now, let's try something new," he says, his voice dropping an octave. "You're going to count for me again, but this time, if you lose track, I'll have to remind you who's in charge."

Her heart skips a beat at the challenge in his eyes, and she nods, eager to please. "One," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rain.

His movements become more deliberate, each thrust punctuated by the crack of his hand against her ass. The pain is sharp, but it sends a thrill through her body, making her more sensitive, more aware of his every move.

"Two," she gasps as he slaps her again, harder this time.

The room is a symphony of rain and pleasure, the two notes playing in perfect harmony. Her body responds to each slap with a fresh wave of desire, her walls tightening around him.

"Three," she calls out, her voice growing stronger, bolder.

But as they reach the higher numbers, her mind starts to fog. The pleasure is too intense, the pain too great. She tries to focus, but the storm inside her is raging out of control.

"Four," she manages, her voice strained.

Another slap, and she feels the sting of his palm against her skin. She's close to the edge again, but the numbers are slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

"Five," she moans, her eyes fluttering closed.

He slaps her again, and she feels the warmth spreading across her cheeks. She's lost count, but she doesn't dare admit it. She's too caught up in the whirlwind of sensation.

But when she opens her mouth to speak, no sound comes out. She's lost, adrift in a sea of pleasure and pain.

Y/N's smile turns predatory, his eyes gleaming with the knowledge of her failure. "Looks like you need a little encouragement," he says, his hand raising once more.

The slap is like a bolt of lightning, the pain searing and immediate. She cries out, her body jolting with the impact.

"Count," he orders, his voice cold and demanding.

Her mind races, trying to remember where she left off. "Six," she whispers, her voice trembling.

The punishment continues, each slap of his hand on her ass pushing her closer to the edge. The sting is a stark reminder of their power dynamic, the pain a strange form of release.

"Seven," she gasps, her voice a desperate plea.

The storm outside seems to be egging them on, the thunder crashing in time with the slap of his hand against her skin. She's lost in the sensation, her body a canvas for his desires.

"Eight," she manages, her voice barely a breath.

But with each new slap, her mind grows more fuzzy. The numbers swirl around her, a jumbled mess of pleasure and pain. She can't keep up, no matter how hard she tries.

And when the next slap comes, she screams, the number lost on her lips.

Y/N's smile widens. "Looks like you need a little more encouragement," he says, his hand raising again.

The slap is hard, making her entire body convulse. She bites back a scream, her eyes watering with the pain. But as the sensation fades, she feels the beginnings of another orgasm building, the pleasure melding with the pain in a way that's impossible to resist.

With each slap, she feels herself spiraling closer to the abyss, her body begging for release. But she can't remember the numbers, can't remember anything but the feel of his hand on her skin.

Finally, with a whimper, she admits defeat. "I can't," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I can't count anymore."

Y/N chuckles, his eyes dark with amusement and lust. "Very well," he says, his voice a velvety threat. "Your final punishment is that I'm going to come inside you."

Eunbi's eyes widen with panic, a feeble protest escaping her lips. But he's already leaning down, his hand covering her mouth, muffling her sounds of distress. His grip is firm, leaving her no choice but to submit to his will. She struggles beneath him, her body arching as she tries to break free.

The hand over her mouth is warm and calloused, his fingers pressing against her cheeks. Her muffled screams are lost in the cacophony of the storm outside, the rain a constant backdrop to their tumultuous dance. His hips continue to piston into her, each thrust pushing her closer to the edge.

He watches her with a predatory gaze, his hand sliding down to wrap around her throat. The pressure is just enough to make her gasp, her eyes going wide with a mix of fear and arousal. His movements grow more erratic, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he feels his own climax approaching.

The room spins around her, the storm outside a blur of light and sound. She's trapped in a world of pain and pleasure, a world where she has no say in what happens to her body. She tries to fight, to push him away, but his grip on her throat tightens, cutting off her air.

And as he finally releases inside her, she feels a strange sense of relief. Her body shudders with the force of her own climax, her muscles clenching around his length. The world goes white, and she surrenders to the feeling, letting the storm inside her match the one raging outside.

When it's over, he withdraws slowly, his hand sliding away from her throat. She gasps for air, her chest heaving with the effort. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and desire.

He leans down, his voice a murmur in her ear. "You're mine now, Eunbi," he whispers. "And you'll do anything I say."

With a final, brutal slap, he pulls out, and she feels the warmth of his seed spurt across her thighs. Her pussy clenches around the emptiness, desperate for more, and she knows she's lost. She's no longer just a K-pop idol, no longer just a desperate girl trying to survive. She's become his plaything, his to use and discard.

The rain outside slows to a gentle patter, the storm's fury spent. The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by their harsh breaths. Eunbi lies there, trembling, her body still reeling from the onslaught of pleasure and pain. She can feel his cum seeping out of her, a warm, sticky reminder of what they've just shared.

Y/N stands, his body glistening with sweat. He looks down at her, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You're a natural," he says, his voice filled with pride. "Now, let's get you cleaned up."

He heads to the bathroom, leaving her sprawled on the bed, her legs still splayed open. She can feel his seed dripping out of her, the evidence of her submission. As the water starts to run in the bathroom, she wonders what the future holds for her in this new world of high-class escorts and twisted games.

But when he returns with a warm, damp cloth, she can't find it in herself to resist. He wipes her clean with gentle strokes, his touch almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the brutal passion they've just shared, and she can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in it.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming.

He smiles, his eyes holding a hint of something softer. "It's just the beginning," he says, his voice a promise.

Her heart races as he helps her to her feet. She feels exposed, vulnerable, but strangely liberated as she follows him to the bathroom. He runs a warm bath, the steam rising to fog the mirrors and mingle with the lingering scent of sex in the air.

"Now go back to your apartment naked," Y/N says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I want you to feel the cold air against your skin, the water droplets as they dry. It'll remind you of who you belong to."

Eunbi nods, her legs trembling slightly. She knows she has no choice but to obey. She slides off the bed, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax. She makes her way to the door, her feet silent on the plush carpet.

The chilly hotel corridor is a stark contrast to the steamy suite. She takes a deep breath, her bare skin prickling with the sudden change in temperature. The hallway is empty, thankfully, as she opens the door and steps into the night. The cool air kisses her body, making her nipples peak and her skin goosebump.

The rain has slowed to a gentle patter, and the neon lights of the city cast a glow on the wet pavement. She can feel his cum slowly slipping down her legs, leaving a warm trail as she walks. Each step is a silent declaration of her submission, a reminder of the power exchange that just took place.

The journey to her apartment is a blur of sensations—the cold rain on her skin, the warmth of his seed, the occasional gust of wind that sends a shiver down her spine. She keeps her eyes downcast, not wanting to meet the eyes of any passersby.

The streets of Seoul are a blur of neon lights and shadowed alleyways. The rain has turned the concrete into a shimmering mosaic, reflecting the myriad emotions that war within her. She feels a strange mix of shame and exhilaration, her body still buzzing from the intensity of their encounter.

By the time she reaches her apartment, her legs are trembling from the exertion and the cold. She opens the door, the warmth of the hallway enveloping her. She takes a moment to compose herself, wiping the last remnants of Y/N's seed from her thighs.

As she steps into her apartment, the reality of her situation hits her like a ton of bricks. She's no longer the untouchable K-pop idol but a woman who has sold her body for money. The walls seem to close in around her, the air thick with the weight of her decision.

The warmth of the shower does little to chase away the chill that has seeped into her bones. She stands beneath the spray, the water washing away the grime of the city and the sins of the night. Her mind reels, trying to process what she's become.

But as she towels off, her eyes fall on the envelope of cash Y/N had left on the bedside table. It's a stark reminder of why she'd made this choice, the price she'd paid for survival. She opens it, the crisp bills fluttering to the floor like the last vestiges of her innocence.

The money is more than she's made in months, and the sight of it fills her with a cold, hard determination. She'll do whatever it takes to keep herself afloat, even if it means becoming a whore to the highest bidder.

As she dresses, her movements are mechanical, her thoughts racing. She can't help but wonder who her next client will be, what new boundaries she'll have to cross. But she knows she'll do it, for the sake of her future, for the sake of her very existence.

The storm outside has passed, leaving the city glistening in its wake. But inside her, the tempest rages on, a never-ending battle between who she was and who she's become. Yet, she can't help but feel a twisted sense of excitement at the thought of what the next storm might bring.

#kpop smut #male reader #girl group smut #gg smut #izone smut #kwon eunbi #eunbi smut #izone eunbi

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planet-hwa · 2 months ago

Text

IMPERFECTIONS AND IMPURITIES — 성화

✎ summary after seeing your mother for lunch one day, you're left with an enhanced view on your body: your "imperfections" — but you're lucky enough to have the most amazing boyfriend who's prepared to do whatever it takes to show you how perfect you truly are.

pairing seonghwa x reader genre established relationship, a little angst and a lot fluff + a whole lot of loving smut word count 3.5k

warnings MDNI petnames/nicknames, body image issues, hurtful comments from family, swearing, protective!seonghwa, extreme body worship, extreme praise kink, nipple/breast play, mirror sex, fingering, dryhumping, overstimulation, squiritng, pussydrunk!seonghwa, cunnilingus, nose riding, unprotected quick-ish sex [wrap it up fr!!], the most gentle aftercare — implied chubbier reader but never specified

❝ i want a better body, i want better skin — you look so pretty, pretty like the wind ❞ 🎧 now playing black friday ; tom odell

You gazed into the floor length mirror, the reflection spitting back at you an image you never enjoyed to see — yourself. The mirror began to warp your perception of what was real and what wasn’t, highlighting every flaw and imperfection you thought your body held. Pulling and poking at everything that was cast back at you: thighs, belly, chest, hips, waist and every other aspect of your body. You had insecurities, like everyone does, but you could usually contain them.

The difference between today and yesterday?

The lunch you had with your mother earlier in the day. The lunch in which she made it her job to ridicule and criticise everything about your appearance.

“Gosh dear, you’re looking a little more plump than usual.”

“That dress is not flattering your body at all.”

“Maybe you should order something small, keep that appetite in check.”

Tears began to prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill, as you reminded yourself of all the cruel comments your mother insisted on sharing.

“Hey Y/N, I’m about to order some dinner, do you want your usual?” Your boyfriend entered the room, eyes glued to his phone as he began noting the order. Wiping away any visibility of your gloom, you turned quickly and met Seonghwa’s lifted gaze with the best smile you could.

“I’m not really hungry, but you order something for yourself.” You tried to cover up the quake in your voice, trying not to worry him, but he was too quick to notice it.

“Darling, what’s wrong, has something happened?” He quietly moved towards you, his hands magnetically placing themselves on your hips and pulling you closer. “Talk to me, angel.”

He knew every one of your emotions and how you portrayed them, reading through them like a book. His gaze followed yours, even when you tried to avoid it. He noticed the glassiness of your eyes, and how you tried to hold in your emotions that you never wanted to burden him with. You didn’t look him directly in the eyes, knowing that the moment you looked at his face, you would burst into tears. His hands moved from your hips to your own, holding them so delicately — something that you weren’t. Leading you to the edge of the bed and sitting you down, he sat next to you, eyes still locked on your face and hands softly intertwined with yours. You both sat in silence, you not wanting to talk and him not wanting to push you to it.

“Do you think I’m fat?” Finally breaking the silence and looking up at him, his face instantaneously changing from worry to slight hurt.

“Of course not, darling.” His voice was overlaid with shock and sadness, to hear you even ask him that or believe that he would ever think of you like that was crazy to him. “Where has this come from?”

“My… my mother said that I ‘looked more plump than usual’, so… I wanted to know if you thought the same-”

“Never.” He cut you off quickly. “I would never think of you like that, because it isn’t true. You know your mother has fucked up views on her own weight and she’s only pushing onto you, which is completely wrong. That woman needs serious help.”

The sudden curse and defensiveness came as a shock to you. Seonghwa: who was always quite calm and content around you, rarely swearing and always soft spoken. To hear him become so protective of you made your heart flutter, realising that he truly did love you. His rant continued on his dislike towards your mother, not noticing the stare and small smile that sat on your face.

“And to think that she would say anything about your beautiful body when hers looks like that is absolutely insane-”

“Okay baby, I get it.” You lightly chucked, tracing your thumb over his hand in a soothing motion. His eyes met yours, softening when he saw your smile and the sparkle that returned to your eyes.

“I just need you to know that I love everything about you.”

“I know,” Sending him a warm smile and watching as his eyes outlined your features. “and I love you too.”

The corners of his lips turned upwards into a gentle smile, his hand moving to cup your face before pulling you in. Your lips connected like a puzzle piece, moving perfectly in sync, soft and filled with adoration from the both of you.

“I’m serious, I love everything about you.” Seonghwa disconnected the kiss, his breath lingering on your lips before his kisses began to move around your face.

“I love your smile.” Placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Your hair.” A kiss on your jawline.

“Your neck.” Lips now on your neck.

A light whimper fell through your parted lips, head tilting to the side to give him more access. He suckled on the sensitive skin of your neck ever so lightly, sending sensations through your entire body and straight between your legs. He smiled against your skin at the sounds you made, his fingers lingering on the hem of your skirt and rubbing soft circles on your thigh with his thumb.

“Let me show you just how much I love you.” He whispered in your ear, hot breath fanning against your neck yet sending chills down your spine.

Looking deep into your eyes for any hesitation and receiving none, with a small nod he stood you up and slowly slipped you out of your dress, revealing your true form that was treasured is a lavender lace set. His gaze moved up and down your body, completely in awe and hypnotised by the sight. You could see how much he enjoyed the view yet you still felt insecure, moving your hands across and attempting to cover your stomach.

“No darling, don’t do that.” Seonghwa whispered, tugging your hands away and replacing them with the touch of his.

Soft fingertips traced every curve in your body, his eyes watching their every move as he admired the beauty that stood in front of him. He could feel the slight tension you held, lifting a hand to your chin and connecting your lips in a dance. With one hand gently cupping your face, the other snaked its way around your waist to pull you closer to him, bodies practically merging into one.

The kiss grew passionate quickly, Seonghwa’s tongue tracing over your bottom lip and requesting access which was happily granted. Your tongues moved together intricately, neither of you fighting for dominance but embracing the intimating of it. He began to trail backwards, pulling you along with him until his knees hit the edge of the bed, breaking the kiss to sit down.

Looking up at you through his long lashes, he hooked his fingers under the band of your panties, holding your eye contact and he pulled them down and let them pool at your ankles. His hand snaked behind you once again, unclasping your bra in one swift motion and throwing it across the room. The way your plump breasts bounced out was always a sight he loved, never to get bored of though that was always a fear of yours. No matter how long the two of you were together, every time he saw you, it was like the first — he fell deeper and deeper in love.

His hand palmed at your breast, cold fingertips tracing over the hardened bud of your nipple before covering it with the warmth of his mouth. His tongue swirled over the bud, eliciting a sweet melody of soft moans from you, your hand cupping the back of his head and tangling itself in his long dark hair. Suckling lightly on your nipple, his other hand preoccupied itself by tightening around your waist and pulling you closer, now standing in between his parted knees. Finally letting go with a pop, he stared at the pink tinted skin he caused, a proud smirk curling at his lips before looking up at your lust-filled eyes.

“Turn around and sit on my lap for me, darling.” He requested.

Noticing your hesitance, he twirled you around slowly and pulled you down onto him, an arm wrapping around your waist to not let you leave. It was then that you realised the floor length mirror you were once staring at, forgetting it was placed at such an angle. Your naked reflection stared back at you once more, but all you could pay attention to was the head lent over your shoulder, eyes filled with undeniable lust and obsession.

“Like I said…” Seonghwa purred in your ear, placing elegant kisses on your bare shoulder. “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

Before you could protest, you felt two slender fingers dip into and drag through your folds, the affects his previous praises had on you glistening evidently on his digits. He felt your body shudder against him as he grazed over your clit, a small whimper escaping you. Attempting to avoid eye contact with the reflection, Seonghwa wasn’t impressed and quickly grabbed your chin, pulling your gaze forcefully to watch.

“No darling, I need you to look at yourself.” He began to gently suck on your neck, watching you through hooded eyes. “I need you to see your beauty.”

With a tight grip around your waist, he collected your essence and dragged it through your already soaking folds. His fingertips traced your clit softly, small shapes and circles drawing out quiet moans from your parted lips. He watched you intently, making sure your eyes never left the mirror and gazed at your curiosity growing. Your eyes looked through the mirror at where he held you, observing the way his fingers moved over you so delicately yet with purpose.

“Look at her, a goddess.” Seonghwa praised, making you wetter in an instant. “My goddess.”

Quickening his movements, a pulsing sensation began to grow in between your legs, one he could feel underneath him and it encouraged him. His thumb replaced onto your clit as he pushed two slender fingers inside of your sopping hole, the clench around them immediate and causing him to let out a low groan at the feeling. Arm sliding down from your waist, he applied a small amount of pressure on your lower abdomen, bringing in a new sense of pleasure making you moan out instantly.

A melody of moans and whimpers filtered the room as he slowly pumped his digits in and out of you, thumb caressing your clit elegantly. Your hips began to buck hopelessly against his lap, chasing his movements as your orgasm grew closer — the sudden movement causing Seonghwa’s body to twitch, his hardened length pushing deep into your back. He buried his lips into your neck, placing wet kisses along the bare skin he could reach to contain his moans.

“You’re doing so good, darling.” He could feel your body growing closer, pumping faster and eliciting higher pitched moans from you: his favourite sound to hear.

“Hwa… I-I’m so- ahhh!” The sudden pinch of his thumb pushing into your clit cut you off with a loud whimper, eyes rolling back and closing to embrace the pleasure. Your gummy walls clenched desperately around his speedy fingers, almost tight enough to break. He curled them as they reached that spongy spot that would push you over the edge. The lewd wet sounds of his fingers entering you mixed with your lustful whines, thumb flicking over your clit deliciously.

“Cum for me, darling.” He whispered, nibbling at your earlobe before you let yourself go.

Your high crashed over you in waves as his digits pumped harshly into you, pulling out every bit of your orgasm that he could, your essence glistening along his fingers as his movements slowed. But he didn’t want to stop there, pulling out once you started to come down and replacing them on your clit. Pinching it lightly brought your body back to life before he began to rapidly circle the bundle of nerves.

Your body trembled against him at the overstimulation, your brain growing foggy and unable to comprehend sentences, only responding with audible moans and a mantra of Seonghwa’s name. He watched as the overstimulation hit you with another orgasm, clear liquid gushing out of you and shattering onto the mirror; the most beautiful fountain he had ever looked at. Seonghwa watched as your juices dripped down the mirror, an immense amount of desire flourishing within him and before you could process what had just happened, he lifted you up with ease and placed you in his previous spot, before he was on his knees and wedging himself between your thighs. Attempting to close your legs, he only gripped them tight and spread them wider.

“Please darling,” He murmured against your soft skin, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. “You deserve this more than anything.”

His deep brown eyes were clouded with desire and admiration, desperate to please you in all the ways he could. You couldn’t say no, sending him a small nod as he neared closer to your heated core. Softly kissing over your centre, he watched as you shivered at the smallest of touches before finally wrapping his plump lips around your puffy clit. You tried to subconsciously escape him but the hands on your lower back held you in place tightly, restricting your movements and pulling you closer into his face.

His tongue lapped through your sopping folds, coating it in the remains of your previous high. It swirled over your clit, eliciting new gorgeous sounds from you. Running your fingers through his long locks, the moment he sharply sucked on your bundle of nerves, your grasp on him tightened and pulled desperately at his hair. He growled into your heat at the pull, sending vibrations through your entire body. Hungrily sucking on your clit and feeling a euphoria he had never felt, he began to nibble on it lightly with his teeth, pain and pleasure mixing within you. You whimpered loudly, crying out at the unusual sensation.

Pulling away with a soft kiss, his tongue began to explore the inside, your gummies walls clenching and pulling the muscle deeper. He moaned loudly at the suction, enjoying the feeling more than you were — pushing his face closer, his nose rubbed deliciously against your clit, your hips instantly grinding against it.

“I can’t get enough of you, my angel.” Every ounce of your nectar he could guzzle, he did, inhaling and tasting his favourite flavours.

Your stomach began to coil once more, tightening as your high creeped up on you. Seonghwa felt it and started cravingly lapping at your entire core; through your folds, grazing against your spongy walls, devouring your over sensitive clit. Any area he wanted to taste, he reached for it. You grasped his hair securely, thighs squishing around his head as your third orgasm poured over you like a bucket of cool water. That luscious clear liquid spilled out of you once more, dripping down your thighs and drowning over the head that secured itself in between your legs, waiting desperately for the tsunami. Seonghwa guzzled up every ounce like a starved man, the feeling of his chin glistening with your juices inducing a new obsession — he needed you to squirt on him every time from now on.

Your breaths were heavy and unsteady as you can down from your high. You watched through hooded eyes as Seonghwa climbed up your body, lips connecting with delicacy, spit and the taste of you mixing on each other’s tongues as they danced together. One hand held the small of your back whilst the other cupped your face with such gentleness it made your heart melt for him. Disconnecting the kiss for a breath, lips only inches away, you mumbled a small “I love you, Hwa.”

“I love you too, my goddess Y/N.” He smiled before leaning in to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. “But I still have so much more love to show you.”

He directed you up the bed, quickly removing his clothes, you watched as his desperate erection bounced out and hit his lower stomach, precum leaking from the reddened tip — a mouthwatering sight of his attraction to you, the only person who could make him like this. He crawled up the bed and hovered over you, eyes locked in contact before leaning down and connecting your lips once more. Kisses were passionate and desire filled, yet so gentle and soft, the ability to portray so many emotions through the simple connection was exhilarating. Hands tracing all over your body, his hips started bucking lightly against yours, aware of your sensitivity but still so desperate for your touch.

Pulling away and watching your fucked out expression still filled with lust for more, he held your face gently before lining himself up with your entrance. The slow stretch was a bittersweet sensation, ache and pleasure molding into one as he bottomed out with a load growl. He stilled himself above you, leaning down in a way to almost protect your body from the world. With peppered kisses around your face and neck, he began to slowly thrust his hips in and out of you, holding your hips with a grip that could bruise. He pushed your bodies as close as possible, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper, he couldn’t bear being any further apart.

The knot in your stomach was already building once more, his building quicker than expected as well. He didn’t realise how much of an effect pleasuring you had on him, enough for him to burst within minutes of entering you. The both of you practically molded into one, the gravitational pull closing between you with every thrust. You rolled your hips upwards to meet his movements, his lower abdomen grazing your clit so gently each time. His thrusts grew sloppier and more desperate as his high came close. Your bodies stuck together with sweat glistening over them, a thin layer shimmering across Seonghwa’s face and slipping down his neck. Pashing your lips together hastily, your tongues rhythmically danced together as your orgasms washed over you within seconds of each other.

The lewd sounds of your juices squirting out and splashing between your bodies filled the room, a melody of moans escaping your mouths that still hopelessly held onto each other. As your waves continued to wash over his lower abdomen and dripped down your thighs once again, the feeling satisfied him as he groaned deeply into the crook on your neck, hot ropes of white cum spilling into you and filling you up. His hips stuttered into you as the last of his cum seeped into you, holding himself there for a while and cuddling into your body. You both breathed heavily against each other, skin sticking together like glue but neither of you cared, too immersed in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

Sitting there for a few minutes, content with being close and embracing each other as you returned to a more normal breathing state. Seonghwa lifted his head from your neck, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead before pulling out of you. He looked at the previous connection of your bodies, staring at your drenched core and watching as his cums spilled out of you. The sight made him want to devour you once more but he knew you were worn out and needed to be cared for in other ways. He climbed off the bed, quickly being stopped by a tug to his wrist. Turning around, he saw the concerned pout that sat on your face, a fear of being left alone — something he would never do.

“My darling, I promise I will be right back.” He reassured, voice soft spoken and with sincerity.

You nodded lazily and followed his figure as he wandered into the bathroom, the sound of the bath turning on echoing into the room. Waiting for the temperature to warm just enough, he walked out with a soft smile before lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom. He placed you down like a delicate flower, climbing into the bubbled bath and holding out a hand for you to follow. Relaxing his back against the cool tiling and sending a small chill down his spine, he guided you down between his legs and secured his arms around your waist, your back pressed against his chest.

Placing soft kisses over the hickies he left on your shoulders, his chin nestled into your neck and rested there. His breath fanned against your cheek, the warmth creating a comfort to you as you relaxed into his arms. The two of you remained embracing one another in the intimacy of the lightly bubbled bath, sharing small words of praise and adoration held towards each other. The love you held for each other was a silent agreement, a promise to never be broken, something you could always trust to be there no matter what happened.

This was all you needed, he was all you needed.

author's note lowkey forgot about this story for a bit so i'm sorry for the delay (i started writing it in december)... but i hope that you didn't forget about it and it was worth the wait (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ also the intro is definitely inspired by my experiences of body issues and family issues, please don't be offended ♡

✉ taglist + moots @betda @solaris-amethyst @hwachronicles @autieofthevalley @hwalighters @tyudeongii @e3ellie @atzlordz ♡ @dunno-wut-to-do @foulbreadpirate @hwahan @suluhwa @hwas-star @daniela-f-uwu @flwrshobi @midnightrebel1028 @kmpokjoong @arourababy @lemonkait00 @woohwababes @emmergency

written by planet-hwa™

#written by planet hwa ༉‧₊˚✧#ateez #park seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut

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comicaurora · 15 days ago

Note

Do you think ethics are just an attempt at being a healthier form of selfish?

In one of your Detail Diatribes where Batman confronts Catwoman and tries to stop her from killing Falcone, you highlighted the fact that his reasoning was not to protect her father, but to try and save her. Ever since, some very strange ideas about the nature of selfishness and selflessness have been rattling around my head.

It only started coming into focus when I tried to put into words why it was a bad thing that D-16 killed Sentinel Prime. My best answer right now is because it made D-16 into Megatron. Orion wasn't trying to save Sentinel, he was trying to protect the cybertronian people. Maybe if Orion focused more on saving D-16, they wouldn't have lost their friendship and all of Cybertron would be better for it. Of course, in the end, Megatron was the deciding factor in making himself, caring more about his pride than his current identity, but this highlights a strange selfish quirk in sustainable selfless behavior.

If you are purely selfless you suffer from spending more of yourself than you have to give. If you're too selfish you can't maintain the human connections that are a requirement for being a complete and healthy person. It leaves the best options as being selfless to make your environment an easier one for you to live in. Where your actions for others are repaid by the selflessness from your community. Or, being selfish with your charity. Taking care of what you care about because their well being positively contributes to your own.

To be fair, the opening sentence now looks like an incomplete thought. It probably should be asking if you think ethics is just an attempt at being a more healthy form of selfish and selfless. Really, just asking if ethics is meant to make you better at being a person, which seems like a question that can answer itself. Still, it feels like an important insight to highlight that to be ethical isn’t about how much of your own life you're willing to sacrifice. It's hard to be a good person when you're not a person anymore.

This is a fascinatingly deep question, and I'm very tickled that our two touchpoints in it are a transforming robot tank and Batman.

My personal opinion is that ethics and morals are not reflections of some universal truth of Justice and Goodness, as they are often framed, but are instead best-practice guidelines on how to function in the big, messy world without causing undue suffering to yourself and others. A facet of this is determining, case by case, how much you need to prioritize yourself vs how much you can afford to help others - in the framing you've proposed, selfishness vs selflessness.

Taking the specific examples we're focusing on - two cases where someone attempts to prevent a revenge killing for the benefit, not of the victim, but of the avenger - I think they reflect this worldview, that the killing is not seen as some innately universally-judged evil act that must be prevented for its own sake, but that the act of killing will harm the killer in a way the person trying to stop them doesn't want to see.

For Catwoman, committing premeditated murder wouldn't solve any of her problems in any way that arresting Falcone and having him legally unraveled would. It'd just park a first degree murder charge on someone who'd up til this point only dealt with petty larceny, and it would potentially weigh her down with misery and regret as she grappled with the trauma of taking a life.

For Megatron, killing Sentinel Prime wasn't a bad action because he deserved to live. They just spent that whole fight scene tearing through enemies. They're warriors on track to spend the next four million years killing each other; the whole "taking a life" ship has already sailed. The problem is that Sentinel is a symbol and a structural part of the political narrative in the founding of the next stage of Cybertron's society. If the first thing the new regime does is bloodily avenge itself on the face of the old regime for the personal wrongs it did them, that proves that the only thing they care about is personal satisfaction of their individual desires - just like Sentinel. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. If they can instead take a step back, think of the good of Cybertron as a whole, enforce a rule of law and a fair system of justice that applies equally to everyone, even on someone they personally loathe, that would signify integrity and credibility and the hallmark of wise, just and fair leadership capable of setting aside personal feelings for the greater good. It's not about Sentinel; it's about whether the satisfaction of killing him is worth the price of enforcing forever that personal vendettas are more important than the well-being of the people of Cybertron. Which makes it really obvious which one Megatron is going to pick.

My hottest take, and I mean this very genuinely, is that most of the human perception of what constitutes goodness and justice is one thousand percent based on vibes, and is extremely susceptible to narrative reframing. We see an unsympathetic victim (Sentinel Prime, Falcone) who has gleefully caused suffering to innocent people (so judged because they are framed sympathetically, not because we've actually enumerated their lifelong actions to determine they've never done anything wrong) and we feel (feel) that it would be right and just for them to suffer consequences (emphasis on suffer) because that would balance the scales on this vibes equation and that would make us feel like justice had been served. Would this suffering lead to any material good? Not inherently. Would it heal the victims? Not usually. Would it remove the source of the problem? Categorically not, what with how negative reinforcement works (or rather does not work.) It also wouldn't do anything about the other people empowered by the same system to be just as shitty in just as many ways that just happen to be offscreen from our POV. But it feels fair. So what is justice, if it reduces down to "I want them to hurt for the hurt they've caused me"? If it can be sated with a spectacle or distracted by a long nap and a good joke to let the feeling fade? What purpose does this justice serve if it is devoted wholly to the satiation of a bone-deep chordate-brain hunger for Retributive Violence rather than towards actually ensuring that the lives of those harmed are healed and supported and built up again after being broken down? (This is the entire core character arc in The Batman, btw, I'm not just monologuing for no reason here. He calls himself Vengeance for a reason, and the reason is he's doing Batman wrong)

That feeling - that white-hot burning core of Righteous Fury - is the unexamined heart of many systems of morality that focus, not on doing good, but on exacting satisfying retribution on Bad People Who Deserve It, categorized as People Who I Can Hurt Without Feeling Bad Myself. It's a very tempting concept for people who have suffered at others' hands. That feeling, that powerful instinctual understanding of "that's unfair," is incredibly strong. In my opinion, most systems of ethics are built, not around relitigating what is Good and what is Bad per se, but in trying to shape and curb that bone-deep, unbelievably powerful desire to rend the flesh from the bones of your tormenters.

But I mentioned that feeling is susceptible to narrative reframing. This is, as I understand it, a huge part of lawyering. Tell the story of what happened using true events and adding no falsehoods, but highlight the parts that make it feel like your client is the one who is being treated unfairly. They're not an unsympathetic wrongdoer who you can punish without personal moral stain - they're a loving spouse, a parent of three adorable children, they have a really cute puppy, they donate to charity, they're a wonderful conversationalist, a kind friend, etc etc. All those things can also be true of people who do terrible things, but thinking about them defuses that White Hot Core by making us sympathize with the sympathetic parts of them.

This is incredibly well-understood in fiction. It's the whole reason the tropes Kick The Dog and Pet The Dog exist. When you want the audience to root for a character's destruction, leave aside any of their potential quiet moments of sympathy - their tragic backstory, their cute pet, their adorable relationship with their mom - and instead show them going out of their way to commit some minor act of petty cruelty, say Kicking The Dog. The audience will infer that this badness is 24/7 and they have no reason to curb their enthusiasm for Righteous Vengeance. But if the writer wants the audience to see a spark of good in them, to sympathize, to believe they can be redeemed, they'll highlight one of those small moments of charming kindness, and allow them to Pet The Dog instead.

Neither of these acts, in the grand scale, have any bearing on the morality of this person's actions. A pet dog doesn't counterbalance a razed village; a kicked dog doesn't negate a generous contribution to the local soup kitchen. Goodness and badness is not a linear scale added or subtracted to by opposing deeds. BUT showing them to an audience reframes them narratively, and THAT is what shapes the judgment of the White Hot Burning Core. In the space of fiction, this form of bottom-shelf emotional manipulation is one of the cleanest ways to get the audience to root for the messy destruction of what is ostensibly, in the universe of the fiction, a wholly complex and living person who definitely has reasons for everything they've done, even ones that could be framed sympathetically when shown.

Meanwhile, in the real world, ethics are an attempt to judge what is best in a given situation without trusting the White Hot Burning Core to make the call, no matter how compelling "but it would feel really good though" might seem. They try to give someone perspective, context, other priorities to consider. The White Hot Burning Core might want you to rip someone's arms off for driving slow when you've got important places to be, but Ethics can present a number of compelling reasons not to do that - even if it's just "ripping their arms off will definitely make me even more late." And yes, this can be a balance of Selfishness Vs Selflessness. You are one of the people whose wellbeing ethics is designed to make you prioritize improving even if it feels weird, and when all other things are equal, your own health and happiness can be the deciding factor. In a world with an overarching Moral Force that weighs the goodness of your soul by sifting through every grain of action and intent seeking negativity to punish you for, absolute selflessness to the point of self destruction would still probably be seen as Morally Wrong, simply because the universe is a better place with you in it trying your best.

Anyway, if doing the right thing was simple, easy and painless, we probably wouldn't have so many thousands of years of arguing about what it looks like. Good luck out there everybody 👍

#asks #not aurora

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slytherinsmuse · 5 months ago

Text

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Yours, Always | Theodore Nott ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader

Warnings: characters are 18+, not canon,SMUT (minors please look away), smoking, drinking

Summary: Smut, fluff, light angst|Amidst the quiet chaos of a summer at the Malfoy Manor, Theo and his ex navigate the tension of unresolved feelings .

Word count: 12109

author's note: This is a bit longer than what I have posted. Honestly I hope you enjoy because I feel like I am bad at writing smut (despite loving to read it).

The fire crackled and hissed as the group gathered around it, the orange glow casting flickering shadows across the sprawling Malfoy gardens. The scent of freshly trimmed hedges mingled with the faint aroma of smoke, the warmth of the flames competing against the cool evening breeze that whispered through the manicured lawns. Laughter echoed through the warm night air, conversations overlapping in a symphony of easy companionship. Astoria leaned into Draco’s side, her hand resting lightly on his knee as they exchanged whispers. Daphne and Blaise shared a bottle of wine, their heads close together, their laughter a soft, musical undercurrent. Pansy was perched on Mattheo’s lap, giggling at something he’d said, her wine glass dangling from her fingers as though she’d forgotten it was there.

And then there was you.

You sat silently in one of the ornate garden chairs, its wrought-iron design digging faintly into your back as you nursed a glass of wine. The firelight danced on the surface of the dark liquid, flickering shadows reflecting your own stormy thoughts. You did your best to appear absorbed in the flames, as though the mesmerising flicker of orange and gold could distract you from the oppressive knot tightening in your chest.But the warmth of the flames did little to thaw the cold discomfort that had taken up residence there.

It had been a mistake to come. You knew that now.

You’d spent the better part of the past week convincing yourself you could handle it—convincing yourself that enough time had passed since your breakup with Theodore Nott, that you could sit across from him and feel nothing. That you could be surrounded by the memory of what once was, of what you’d lost, and still hold yourself together.

You’d been wrong.

Theo sat across from you, lounging with his usual effortless ease. The firelight played in his sharp features, highlighting the angles of his jaw and the unruly strands of dark hair that had always refused to obey him. His long legs stretched out lazily, one arm slung over the back of his chair. Every so often, his gaze would flicker your way, lingering just long enough to send a shiver crawling up your spine, only for you to quickly look away, pretending not to notice. You could feel the intensity of those glances, though, burning as vividly as the flames that cracked and danced in front of you.

The tension between you was suffocating, a silent storm raging beneath the veneer of calm you both pretended to wear. And yet no one else seemed to notice. The couples were too wrapped up in their own happiness, too absorbed in their easy laughter and whispered conversations, to see the battle playing out in the spaces between you and Theo.

Not that the tension was entirely his fault. If anything, it was your own for agreeing to come in the first place. You’d known the risks. But you’d come anyway, clinging to the false hope that you could prove something to yourself—prove you’d moved on. Instead, you were sitting in silence, your heart twisting painfully every time Theo laughed at one of Blaise’s sarcastic quips or leaned back with that maddening smirk.The worst part wasn’t just Theo. It was everything. The whole scene was a cruel reminder of what you didn’t have anymore—what you’d lost not once, but twice.

The couples were like something out of a picture-perfect fairy tale, their laughter and soft touches a sharp contrast to the gnawing ache in your chest. Astoria’s fingers lightly traced patterns on Draco’s arm, her delicate laugh blending seamlessly with his quieter chuckles. Daphne and Blaise were a study in effortless intimacy, sharing quiet jokes you couldn’t hear, their heads so close they might as well have been sharing the same breath. Even Pansy and Mattheo, chaotic as ever, were locked in their own little world, her laugh ringing out as he whispered something in her ear that made her swat his chest.

The breakup with Theo had been bad enough. It had left you raw, hollowed out in ways you hadn’t thought possible. But at least you’d had something to blame then. At least you could point to the fight, the accusations, the heartbreak, and tell yourself it had been inevitable.

But then came the Ravenclaw. The safe, soft-spoken boy who had seemed like the perfect antidote to Theo’s sharp edges and cutting words. The boy who had treated you with kindness, who had said all the right things and made all the right moves, but who had left you with the same emptiness.

“I think you still care about someone else.” he’d said when he ended it, his tone tinged with sadness. “And I think you need to figure that out before you can give your heart to someone new.”

You hadn’t been able to argue with him. You’d known he was right.

And now here you were, back where it all began, surrounded by couples who had figured out how to make it work, while you sat across from the boy who had broken you, pretending you weren’t still in love with him.The fire crackled again, louder this time, a log splitting in two as it fell deeper into the flames. You glanced up instinctively, your gaze colliding with Theo’s.

For a moment, neither of you looked away.

His eyes held yours, icy blue and unreadable as usual, the firelight reflecting in their depths. Your breath caught, and for the briefest second, it felt like the world had gone quiet, like the laughter and chatter of your friends had faded into nothingness. You looked away, breaking the moment before it could shatter you completely. You took a long sip of your wine, forcing yourself to focus on the heat spreading through your chest instead of the ache threatening to overwhelm you.

It was going to be a long two days.

The glass of wine felt heavier in your hand as your mind wandered again, thoughts spiralling down paths you’d tried to block off. You’d kept your breakup with the Ravenclaw—Dennis—a secret from your friends, not wanting to ruin the excitement of finishing school. They had all been so wrapped up in their plans, their triumphs, their relationships. The last thing you’d wanted was to bring them down with your own failures. Besides, it wasn’t like you had the energy to explain it. The breakup had been amicable, sure, but it had left you feeling alone. It wasn’t just the end of the relationship that hurt—it was the reminder of how little you’d truly felt for him, how you’d used him to try and forget Theo, and how much you’d failed.

You barely registered the voices around you until Astoria’s clear, sweet tone broke through the haze of your thoughts.

“Do you have any plans with Dennis this summer, Y/N?”

Your stomach sank at the mention of his name. The fire popped loudly, punctuating the sudden tension that tightened around your chest.

You glanced up, finding all eyes now on you. Astoria’s question was innocent, her gaze curious but kind. It wasn’t her fault, of course. None of them knew. You opened your mouth to answer, but the words stuck, your throat suddenly dry. You could feel Theo’s eyes on you again, sharp and piercing, but you refused to look at him.

Reluctantly, you forced a smile, doing your best to sound casual. “No.” you said, your voice a little too light. “No plans.”

There was a pause. Then Blaise chimed in, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What, is he too busy nerding out over his books or something?”

You chuckled nervously, trying to play it off. “Something like that.”

But Daphne wasn’t so easily distracted. She leaned forward slightly, her expression soft but probing. “Wait—why not? Didn’t he say he wanted to travel with you this summer?”

The group was silent now, all of them waiting for your response. Even Pansy, who had been laughing moments ago, seemed to have stilled.

You swallowed, the laughter bubbling in your chest too bitter to contain. “Because we’re not together anymore.” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

The reaction was immediate. Astoria’s mouth fell open slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh.” she said softly, her hand instinctively tightening around Draco’s arm.

“What?” Blaise asked, his tone incredulous. “Since when?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Daphne added, her voice gentle but concerned.

You shrugged, forcing a chuckle that sounded too hollow to your own ears. “It wasn’t a big deal.” you lied. “It just… wasn’t working out.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched uncomfortably long. You took another sip of wine, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat.

“Well, good riddance.” Pansy said, breaking the tension with her usual bluntness. “He was too dull for you anyway.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks for that, Pans.” you said dryly.

But you could still feel the others’ concern. Daphne’s worried glances, Astoria’s quiet sympathy, even Blaise’s rare seriousness as he studied you. You hated it. What you hated most, though, was Theo. Or rather, the fact that you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he could see straight through the flimsy façade you were putting up. You refused to look at him, but you could almost hear the thoughts running through his mind. You could imagine the way his jaw would be tight, the way his fingers would curl into his palm as he tried to stop himself from saying something biting or too honest.

“Honestly, good for you.” Blaise said after a moment, his tone lightening. “Dennis never could keep up with you anyway.”

You chuckled faintly, murmuring a quiet “thanks” before finishing the rest of your wine in one long gulp.

“Well…” Astoria said, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground, “that just means you’re free to enjoy the summer without any distractions.”

You nodded, forcing another tight smile. But as the conversation shifted, their voices growing louder and more cheerful again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else wasn’t letting the subject go. You risked a glance at Theo then, just for a second. His eyes met yours, and the intensity there made your breath catch. He didn’t look smug or amused, the way he often did when you were forced into the same space. He looked serious. Concerned, even. The knot in your chest tightened as you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on Astoria’s voice. You hated how easily Theo could read you, how he could strip away the carefully constructed walls you’d built without even trying. But more than that, you hated how much you still wanted him to.

You sat up quietly, the ornate chair creaking softly beneath you as you placed your empty wine glass to the side. The laughter and chatter of your friends faded into the background as your fingers slipped into your pocket, fishing out the small carton you kept hidden.

Cigarettes.

It was a habit you had once despised—one of Theo’s worst, in your opinion. You’d argued with him countless times about it during your relationship, hating the smell, the way it clung to him like an unwanted shadow. But now? Now it was a habit you had picked up yourself. The irony wasn’t lost on you as you flicked the lighter, the soft flame dancing briefly before the tip of the cigarette glowed. You inhaled deeply, the familiar burn spreading through your chest, and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl lazily into the night air. It was another secret you’d kept from your friends, like so much else. They didn’t know. They didn’t know about the cigarettes, the way you craved the sharp edge they gave your frayed nerves, the way they dulled the ache that nothing else seemed to touch.

The wine in your veins and the hollowness in your chest made you not give a fuck.

You ignored the glances from the others. Astoria’s subtle frown, Pansy’s raised brow, even Blaise’s brief look of surprise. None of them said anything, though. Perhaps they could sense that this wasn’t the time to pry, or maybe they were just too shocked to find the same girl who used to chastise Theo for his smoking now doing the very thing she’d hated. The only one who didn’t seem remotely surprised was Theo.His gaze locked onto you immediately, his expression unreadable. You felt the weight of it, sharp and piercing, as you took another drag. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, though. You focused instead on the fire, on the way the embers popped and sparked against the night, on the rhythmic rise and fall of your own breath.

But you could feel him watching you. Not with judgement, not with pity, but with something else entirely—something that made your skin prickle and your heart ache all at once.

“Didn’t know you smoked, Y/N.” Blaise finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind his words.

You exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift away before answering. “There’s a lot you don’t know.” you said simply, your voice calm but distant.

“Clearly.” Pansy chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. “What’s next? You’re going to tell us you’ve taken up gambling?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Not yet.” you replied, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at your lips.

The group laughed, the tension easing slightly, but the moment didn’t feel any lighter to you. The cigarette burned between your fingers, a bitter comfort, as you leaned back in your chair and stared up at the dark sky.

Theo’s voice cut through the chatter, low and measured. “Thought you hated smoking.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, one laced with an undercurrent of emotion that only you could grasp.

You froze for a heartbeat, the cigarette hovering near your lips, before taking another drag and exhaling slowly. “Things change.” you said quietly, refusing to look at him.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Theo didn’t push further, but you could feel his gaze lingering, pressing against you like a touch you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Anyway…” Astoria said brightly, clearly desperate to shift the mood, “Who’s up for another round of wine?”

The others murmured their agreement, the conversation picking back up as the bottle was passed around again. You stayed quiet, the cigarette slowly burning to its end as you stared into the flames.

Across the fire, Theo kept watching you.

As the night deepened, the alcohol began to take its toll. Laughter grew louder, gestures more exaggerated, and the conversations turned increasingly ridiculous. Astoria was the first to start giggling uncontrollably, leaning heavily into Draco as she slurred something about how he was “too perfect for words.” Draco smirked, the kind of self-satisfied grin that only he could pull off, before helping her to her feet.

“Well.” he said, clearly amused, “I think someone needs to call it a night.”

Astoria protested weakly, but her flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes betrayed her exhaustion—or at least her inebriation. The two of them disappeared into the house, Draco’s hand resting lightly on the small of her back.

That was all it took for the others to follow suit.

Blaise stretched dramatically, letting out an exaggerated yawn as Daphne rolled her eyes but still stood with him. “Time to get some rest.” he announced, though his smirk told a very different story.

“Rest?” Pansy snorted, clearly not buying it.

“Shut it, Pans.” Blaise shot back, his smirk widening as Daphne tugged on his arm, steering him toward the manor.

Mattheo and Pansy weren’t far behind, though their departure was accompanied by far less subtlety. “Come on, love.” Mattheo murmured, his voice low and suggestive as he lifted Pansy effortlessly off her feet, making her squeal with laughter.

“Absolutely not.” she objected, though her arms were already looping around his neck. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance.” he replied with a grin, carrying her off toward the house without so much as a glance back.

And just like that, the once lively circle around the fire dwindled to two.

You and Theo.

The fire crackled softly, the only sound breaking the stillness that now enveloped the garden. You leaned back in your chair, gripping your empty wine glass as though it might anchor you somehow, your gaze fixed firmly on the dying embers.

You didn’t have to look to know Theo was still there. You could feel his presence, sharp and unavoidable, just a few feet away.

“Guess it’s just us now.” he said, his voice low and even.

You glanced at him, unable to help yourself. He was lounging in his chair, as calm and composed as ever, but there was something in his expression—a flicker of tension that made your chest heave.

“Seems that way.” you replied quietly, your voice carrying a faint edge.

The silence that followed was thick, charged with everything that had been left unsaid between you. The fire burned lower, the orange glow dimming as the night stretched on, and still neither of you moved. You hated this—hated the way he could make you feel so unsteady, so raw, with just his presence. Hated the way your chest ached every time you looked at him, a painful reminder of all the things you’d tried and failed to forget.

But most of all, you hated the way some part of you was glad it was just the two of you now.You sneaked another glance at Theo, only to see him pull a cigarette from his pocket. The motion was unhurried, almost lethargic, as he tapped it against the carton before placing it between his lips.

The faint flicker of his lighter caught your eye, the soft glow illuminating his face for a moment as he lit the cigarette with practised ease. He took a slow drag, the ember flaring bright against the darkness, and exhaled a stream of smoke that curled lazily into the air.

You couldn’t help but watch him. The way his long fingers held the cigarette, the slight tilt of his head as he blew out the smoke—it was captivating in a way you hadn’t expected, your breath catching before you forced yourself to look away.

“Are you going to tell me off for it again?”

His voice broke the silence, low and laced with a faint hint of amusement. You glanced back at him, only to find his eyes on you now, sharp and curious, as if he’d been waiting for your reaction.

You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back in your chair. “No.” you said simply.

He raised a brow at that, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Really? No lecture about how it’s a disgusting habit? Or how I’m going to ruin my lungs?”

You met his gaze, your expression unreadable. “I’m not exactly in a position to judge anymore.”

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your own cigarette and lighter, ignoring the way his smirk faltered slightly. You lit it with a soft click, inhaling deeply before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

Theo’s eyes widened slightly, the surprise flickering across his face before it quickly vanished, replaced by something more guarded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied you, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers.

“When did that start?” Theo asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with curiosity.

You shrugged, taking another slow drag of your cigarette. The smoke curled upwards from your lips as you exhaled, your eyes fixed on the glowing embers of the fire. “A short while after we broke up.” you admitted, your tone calm but distant, as if the words didn’t bother you as much as they did.

His brow furrowed slightly at your response, and for the first time that night, the carefully guarded mask he always wore seemed to slip just a fraction. He didn’t respond immediately, instead taking another drag from his own cigarette, his gaze flickering to the fire before returning to you.

“Didn’t think I’d be such a bad influence.” he said finally, his tone dry but lacking the usual sharp edge.

You gave a faint, humourless chuckle. “You weren’t.” you replied simply, tapping the ash from your cigarette. “It wasn’t about you. Not entirely.”

Theo tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Not entirely?” he echoed, his voice low, almost cautious.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you stared up at the night sky. The stars were faint, their light muted by the glow of the fire and the lingering smoke that hung in the air. “It was… everything.” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “The breakup. The mess it left me in. The way it felt like nothing else worked to fill the silence.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the dying fire crackling between you. You didn’t look at Theo, didn’t want to see the expression on his face. It was hard enough to admit it, to give voice to the hollow ache you’d carried for far too long.

“That’s why you do it?” He asked finally, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “Because it reminds you of me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, sharp and unrelenting. You turned to look at him then, your breath catching at the way his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching and raw in a way that left you feeling exposed.

“It’s not that simple.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, his tone softer but still insistent.

You shook your head, turning away again. “No. It’s not.”

Theo leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow stream of smoke as he studied you in silence. “So why keep doing it?” he asked finally.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you took another drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling it slowly. When you finally spoke, your voice was steady but felt foreign, as though you were speaking about someone else entirely.

“Because sometimes, it’s the only thing that feels real.” you said quietly. “The burn. The taste. The way it makes everything else fade for a little while.”

Theo didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw and unguarded, cutting through the smoke and silence like a blade. You turned to look at him then, your heart clenching painfully at the way his usual composure seemed to crumble, just slightly, around the edges. For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo looked vulnerable.

“I know.” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “We were both at fault.”

The admission felt heavy on your tongue, but it was true. You’d spent so much time blaming him for the pain, for the fallout, that you’d almost forgotten the ways you had contributed to the mess. The silence, the assumptions, the stubbornness that kept you from reaching out when it mattered most. The stillness that followed was worse than any argument you two had ever had before. Theo looked away first, his gaze falling to the fire as he took another drag from his cigarette. The ember glowed brightly in the dim light, casting a fleeting warmth across his sharp features. And still, neither of you moved to leave.

A burst of laughter carried across the night air, high and distant. You turned instinctively toward the mansion, catching the faint echo of Astoria’s giggles. The soft hum of voices followed, muffled by the grand walls of Malfoy Manor but still audible enough to remind you of what was happening inside. You could picture it vividly and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy twist in your chest. Not at them, not specifically. It wasn’t Astoria or Daphne or Pansy you envied. It was the ease. The simplicity of their happiness. The way they could exist without the weight of the past dragging them down, without the constant reminder of what could have been. And here you were, sulking around the fire with your ex, smoke curling between you like a barrier you didn’t know how to cross. Your attention shifted back to Theo, drawn by the subtle movement of him standing. He stubbed out his cigarette against the armrest of his chair before stepping forward, using his foot to scatter the embers of the fire. The dying glow of the flames cast shadows across his face, emphasising the lines of his jaw and the faint crease between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.

He didn’t look at you, his focus on the fire as he pressed the embers into the dirt. “Putting it out.” he said simply, his tone neutral.

“Because it’s late.” he replied, finally glancing your way. His gaze lingered for a moment, unreadable, before he added, “Why? Would you rather sit out here sulking all night?”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking toward the softly lit windows of the mansion in the distance. The distant giggles and murmurs carried faintly on the breeze, a reminder of exactly what was happening inside.

“Do you really want to go back right now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Theo raised a brow, clearly catching the hint in your voice. “Yeah, why not?” he said, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone. His smirk widened slightly as he tilted his head, studying you. “Unless…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air before his eyes narrowed playfully. “Are you jealous, Y/N?”

Your head whipped around, your mouth opening to protest immediately. “Jealous? Of course not.” you snapped, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you. “Why would I be jealous of… of that?”

Theo chuckled softly, his deep laugh low and knowing as he straightened. “Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not.” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him, though it only seemed to amuse him further.

He took a step closer, the smirk still tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a terrible poker face, you know.”

You sighed heavily, the fight draining out of you as you glanced back toward the mansion. “Fine.” you muttered, reluctantly. “Maybe I am. Just… a little.”

He didn’t tease you this time. Instead, his expression softened, the humour in his eyes giving way to something more understanding.

“Come on.” he said, nudging you lightly with his hand. “We’re going for a walk then.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden suggestion. “What?”

Theo gestured toward the shadowed path that led deeper into the Malfoy gardens. “You’re not going back in there, not like this. And I’m not about to sit around while you mope about whatever nonsense is running through your head.”

“I’m not moping.” you argued half-heartedly, but he was already walking away, his long strides carrying him toward the path.

“You coming or not?” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

You hesitated for only a moment before sighing and following after him.You walked beside Theo, your hands slipping into the deep pockets of your oversized hoodie as the cool night air wrapped around you. The quiet crunch of gravel beneath your feet filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not yet. Theo glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, breaking the stillness.

You frowned, your head turning to him with suspicion. “What are you laughing at now?” you grumbled, your voice carrying more irritation than you felt.

He didn’t respond immediately, his smirk growing as he nodded toward you. “That hoodie.” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

You blinked, looking down at yourself, confused. “What about it?”

“That’s mine.” he said simply, the smugness in his voice unmistakable.

You froze mid-step, the realisation hitting you like a gust of wind. Your heart sank as you recognized the worn fabric, the familiar scent of him that still lingered faintly in the material. You cursed yourself internally for not even thinking about it when you’d grabbed it earlier.

“Shit.” you muttered under your breath, your cheeks heating.

Theo’s chuckle deepened as he stopped and turned to face you fully, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his trousers. “Didn’t think you were so sentimental, Y/N.” he teased, though there was a softness in his tone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glared at him, tugging the hoodie closer around you defensively. “I didn’t even realise, okay? I just… grabbed it.”

He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure you did.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze dropping to the ground. The memory of when he’d given you the hoodie tugged at the edges of your mind, unbidden but vivid. It had been almost two years ago, during a late night in the common room after everyone else had gone to bed. You’d been complaining about how cold it was, wrapping yourself in a blanket that didn’t do much to help.

Without a word, Theo had pulled off his hoodie and tossed it to you, muttering something about how you were “hopeless.” You’d teased him at the time, but you hadn’t given it back. And he hadn’t asked for it, either.

Now, standing here in the dark with him staring at you, that memory felt closer than it should.

“You want it back?” you asked finally, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Theo shook his head, the smirk fading into something softer as he glanced down at the hoodie. “Keep it.” he said, his voice low. “Looks better on you anyway.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, rolling your eyes for good measure. “Whatever.” you muttered, shoving your hands deeper into the pockets as you started walking again.

Theo followed after you, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Can’t believe you’ve been wearing it this whole time.” he said, his tone lighter now, teasing but not unkind. “Didn’t think you were the type to hold on to old things.”

“I’m not.” you shot back, refusing to meet his gaze. “I just didn’t feel like wasting money on a new one.”

“Right.” he drawled, clearly not buying your excuse.

The crunch of gravel underfoot filled the silence between you as the two of you walked deeper into the gardens. You could feel Theo’s presence beside you, steady and familiar, but your thoughts were far away, tangled in memories you didn’t want to revisit.

“You gonna tell me about Dennis, or do I have to guess?”

His voice wasow and appeared casual but carried enough weight to make your shoulders tense.

You stopped mid-step, glancing at him with narrowed eyes. “What about Dennis?” you asked, your tone defensive.

Theo shrugged, his hands still stuffed into his pockets. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you two aren’t together anymore?” His brow arched slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not exactly subtle back there when you told everyone.”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking, your hands tightening in the pockets of his hoodie. “There’s nothing to tell.” you said flatly.

“Come on, Y/N.” he pressed, his tone softer now, less teasing. “You were with the guy for months. What happened?”

You hesitated, your steps slowing as you debated how much to say. The breakup was still fresh, the wound not quite healed, but there was something about the way Theo asked—genuine, even if his curiosity was layered with his usual smugness—that made you feel like he wouldn’t let it go.

“He ended it.” you admitted finally, your voice quiet but even.

Theo’s brows furrowed slightly as he glanced at you. “Why?”

You let out a soft, humourless laugh, shaking your head as you stared ahead at the shadowed path. “Because he figured out what I was too afraid to admit. That I wasn’t over…” You trailed off, your stomach twisting as the words caught in your throat.

There was a long pause, the kind that stretched uncomfortably but wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Theo didn’t say anything right away, and when you finally glanced at him, his expression was unreadable.

“Me.” he said quietly, almost like a statement rather than a question.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze dropping to the ground as your stomach churned with a mix of frustration and something you couldn’t name. “Don’t flatter yourself, Theodore.” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

He let out a soft chuckle, but it lacked his usual confidence. “I wasn’t trying to.” he said, his voice low.

Silence fell between you two once again. Theo stopped walking, and when you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore, you turned to face him. His eyes were dark, focused on you in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Did you love him?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. The answer rose in your chest before you could stop it, but it wasn’t one you wanted to give. Finally, you shook your head, exhaling softly. “No.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t.”

Theo’s expression softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he nodded. “That’s what I thought.” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” he said lightly, though his tone carried a sternness you couldn’t ignore. “Just… I always knew you couldn’t fake it.”

His words lingered in the air between you as his gaze held yours. You hated how easily he could read you, how his words had a way of hitting exactly where they weren’t supposed to.

“Dennis is a good guy.” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “He didn’t deserve to be with someone who was only half there.”

Theo tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious. “Maybe he didn’t. But that’s not on you, Y/N.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze dropping to the ground as your hands tightened into fists in the pockets of his hoodie. For once, Theo didn’t push. Instead, he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing yours lightly as he started walking again.

“Come on.” he said, his voice softer now. “Let’s keep moving.”

You followed him without a word, the quiet night wrapping around you both as you walked side by side.

You hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence, your voice careful but laced with curiosity. “What about you?”

Theo glanced at you, one brow arching slightly. “What about me?”

“Have you been in a relationship?” you asked, your tone as casual as you could manage. You kept your eyes ahead, pretending you weren’t entirely invested in his answer.

For a moment, Theo didn’t respond, his silence louder than any words.

You pressed on, a faint smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I mean, I’ve seen you around plenty of girls. But none of them ever seemed to stick. Why is that?”

He let out a soft laugh, though it was more defensive than amused. “You’ve been paying attention, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “We are in the same friend group, I see it without needing to look.”

Theo’s steps slowed slightly, his gaze falling to the ground as he ran a hand through his hair. For once, he seemed caught off guard, his usual smirk nowhere to be found.

“Maybe I just haven’t found the right person.” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

You glanced at him, frowning slightly at the shift in his tone. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” you teased lightly, though the look on his face made your chest tighten.

Theo sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kept walking. “It’s not that simple.” he muttered.

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “Why not?”

He stopped then, turning to face you fully, and for a moment, you swore he looked almost… vulnerable. His usual mask of confidence and indifference had cracked, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something raw beneath the surface.

“Because.” he started, his voice low and hesitant, “nobody else…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he looked away, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the darkness.

“Nobody else what?” you asked softly, your heart pounding as you took a step closer.

Theo exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Nobody else could replace you.” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to process what he’d just said.

Theo’s gaze flicked back to you then, his expression guarded but his eyes betraying the depth of his emotions. “Happy now?” he asked lightly, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Theo…”

He held up a hand, cutting you off. “Don’t…” he said, his tone firmer now. “I didn’t say it so you’d feel sorry for me.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

Theo let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he started walking again. “Forget I said anything.”

But you couldn’t forget. Theo’s movements were different now. No longer slow and lazy, no longer calculated and confident. His hands shook slightly as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, the lighter flaring unsteadily in the dark. The sharp glow lit up his face for a moment, and for the first time that night, he looked completely exposed. Vulnerable. He didn’t say anything as he took a deep drag, but the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers twitched around the cigarette—it was obvious he was trying to hold himself together. But he wasn’t. Not really.Without a word, Theo pushed ahead of you, his strides long and purposeful, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. He didn’t look back, his shoulders stiff as though bracing himself against something unseen.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you stared after him. His words still echoed in your mind, raw and unfiltered, unravelling something deep within you.

Nobody else could replace you. You didn’t know how to feel. Guilty? Relieved? Angry? Everything tangled together in a mess of emotions you couldn’t name, couldn’t tame. All you knew was that you couldn’t let him walk away like this.

With a shaky breath, you hurried after him, your footsteps crunching against the gravel. “Theo, wait.” you called, but he didn’t stop.

His shoulders tensed further at the sound of your voice, his hand lifting the cigarette to his mouth for another sharp inhale. The smoke curled around him, a barrier he was trying to erect between you, but you weren’t about to let it stand.

“Damn it, Theodore!” you snapped, reaching for him.

Your fingers caught his arm, and he stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a look that made your breath catch in your throat. His cigarette hung loosely between his lips, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. His eyes were wide, burning with a mix of anger and pain, and something else—something that made your heart flutter. For all his sharp edges, Theo had always been able to hide behind his smirk, his sarcasm, his infuriating charm. But now, all of that was gone, stripped away to reveal the raw truth beneath. He looked… lost.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said finally, his voice low and rough. “I’ve been trying to forget. I’ve been trying to move on. But every fucking time, it’s you. It’s always you.”

The words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was the weight of his gaze, the raw vulnerability in his voice, and the ache in your chest that had been growing since the day you lost him. Your gaze dropped to the cigarette in his mouth, the bitter smell of smoke filling the small space between you. Without thinking, you reached up, plucking it from his lips and tossing it to the ground. His eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t stop.Standing on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt as your lips crashed into his. It was intense, all-consuming, every ounce of anger, pain, and longing pouring into the kiss. For a moment, Theo didn’t move, frozen in shock. But then his hands found your waist, gripping you tightly as he kissed you back, his movements desperate, hungry, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had. The world seemed to blur around you, the night fading into nothing as you pressed yourself against him. His lips were warm, familiar, and the way he kissed you—it was like he was trying to say all the things he hadn’t been able to put into words.

I still love you.

The thought crashed over you like a wave, and you tightened your grip on his shirt, pulling him closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, the ache in your soul finally easing as the walls between you crumbled. Theo’s hands slid up your back, one of them tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with yours. He kissed you like he was afraid to stop, like he was afraid this moment would slip away if he let go. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as the silence wrapped around you again.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“Shut up.” he growled lowly, his voice rough and desperate, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could react, his lips crashed onto yours again, fiercer this time, more demanding.

Your body melted into his, the intensity of the kiss igniting a fire deep within you. His hand tightened in your hair, the other gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything. Every argument, every hurt, every word you’d left unsaid. Every moment you’d spent trying to forget him, only to fail. It all came rushing back, raw and unrelenting, as if your souls were trying to bridge the chasm you’d created between you.

You didn’t even realise your hands were moving until they slid down his chest, resting on his lower stomach. Theo’s abdomen flexed under your touch, muscles coiling tight as he groaned into the kiss. The sound vibrated through you, making your knees weaken. You clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he pinned you hard against the cold stone wall of the Malfoy manor garden. Your bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, curves moulding perfectly as the heat of your bodies merged into one. You felt the thick ridge of his growing erection pressing insistently against your belly, and a needy whimper escaped your throat. Theo broke the kiss, panting harshly as he stared down at you with wild, desperate eyes.

“Tell me you want this.” Theo demanded, his voice ragged and trembling with barely restrained emotion. His hands gripped your waist firmly, grounding you, as though afraid you might slip away before he could hear the answer. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The words weren’t just a demand; they were a plea. His eyes, dark and burning, searched yours with an intensity that left you breathless. Vulnerability hung in the air between you, raw and unguarded, cutting through the desperation like a blade. But you didn’t hesitate.

Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt as you surged forward, wrapping your legs around his waist in one swift motion as you jumped up. He caught you instinctively, his arms tightening around you with a strength that made your heart race. Instead of answering with words, you crushed your lips into his, the kiss fevered and consuming. It was the only answer your brain could come up with, the only way you could convey the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His response was immediate. His hands slid to the curve of your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulled you impossibly close. He kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do, like the world might fall apart if he let go. The heat between you was electric, your body pressing against his as his lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. Every ounce of tension, every unresolved feeling, every unspoken word came pouring out in the way his hands roamed your body, the way his breath mingled with yours.

You gasped softly as his teeth grazed your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips moved to your jawline, then to the sensitive skin just below your ear, his voice a low growl as he murmured, “Say it.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers threading into his hair as your heart pounded in your chest. “Theo…”

“Say it.” he demanded again, his voice rough and desperate, his hands tightening their hold on you.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes locking with his. The raw intensity in his gaze made your knees weak, even as his arms kept you steady.

“I want this.” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “I want you. I am yours.”

Theo's eyes flashed with triumph and relief, his grip on your bare thighs.“Mine.“ He breathed, the single syllable a vow, a declaration, a promise. His hands roamed your body with renewed urgency, caressing, claiming, branding you as his own.Every brush of his fingers ignited something within you, a fire that had been dormant for far too long.

“You have no idea how much I've needed to hear you say that.” he muttered, his voice rough and unsteady as he buried his face in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips found your collarbone, trailing fiery kisses along the sensitive line as his fingers slipped under the hem of your light summer dress, hidden beneath the oversized hoodie. The fabric bunched beneath his touch as he slid his hands higher, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your ass with an aching tenderness that contrasted the raw hunger in his movements.

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into his hair as you tilted your head back, giving him more access. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt like a balm to the wounds you’d both been carrying.

“Theo…” you whispered, his name a plea, a prayer, a surrender.“Not here…”

“You’re right” he breathed his heart pounding with every syllable.

Theodor’s eyes never left yours, their fervour unrelenting as he began moving, his strides purposeful and hurried. The gravel crunched beneath his boots as he carried you through the shadowed garden, the cool night air brushing against your skin where his hands weren’t already burning their way into you.

You barely registered the shift in scenery, too consumed by the heat of his touch, the dizzying press of his body against yours. But when the faint glow of lights from Malfoy manor appeared ahead, reality intruded just enough for you to pull back slightly, your breath coming in gasps.

“What’s your plan?” you whispered, your voice shaky, though not from hesitation.

“To my room here.” he muttered, his voice low and ragged. “I’m not in the mood for the others finding us like this.”

The thought of being caught sent a thrill through you, though you knew he was right. You tightened your arms around his neck, leaning into him as he navigated the winding garden paths. His movements were quick, almost frantic, yet he carried you as though you weighed nothing, his grip on you secure and unwavering.

The glow of the manor grew brighter as he approached, the grand building towering above you like a silent witness to what was unfolding. You couldn’t stop yourself from studying Theo’s face as he walked, the tension in his jaw, the way his brows furrowed in concentration. He looked so different from the Theo you’d known in the past—hardened, raw, but still achingly familiar.

The two of you slipped inside through a side entrance, the cool marble of the manor floor muffling his hurried footsteps. The distant echoes of laughter and conversation from the others reached your ears faintly, but Theo paid them no mind, his focus entirely on you.

His lips found your neck as he ascended the stairs, the faint scrape of his teeth against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt once again as he carried you through the hallways with a confidence born from familiarity.

When he finally pushed open the door to his guest room, the soft click of the lock echoed in the quiet space. The moment the door closed, he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as if reluctant to let go.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence charged with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. The faint light from the window cast shadows across Theodore’s face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the vulnerability in his eyes that he no longer tried to hide.

“You’re sure?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you met his gaze. “Theodore Nott, I haven’t slept with another man since we broke up. Of course I am sure.” you said, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

A shaky breath escaped him, and then his lips were on yours again, the kiss deeper, more deliberate this time. His hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him as the tension between you snapped like a tightly drawn string. In the quiet sanctuary of his room, with only the faint moonlight as witness, you allowed yourself to fall completely, surrendering to the moment and to him.

“You haven’t slept with Dennis?” Theo grumbled as he pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes roaming your figure.

You only managed to shake your head as your fingers quickly worked on unzipping your hoodie.

“Good.” Theo growled approvingly, watching intently as you shed your clothes. His own garments joined hers on the floor in a rush of movement, leaving you both bare and wanting. He loomed over you, his muscular frame casting a shadow across your skin, his heavy arousal jutting proudly from between his thighs.

Theodore leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle, exploratory kiss. His tongue swept across your mouth, tasting your sweetness, while his hands began to roam your body once more. They traced the curves of your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, before sliding down to cup her hips. Gripping you gently, he rolled his pelvis in a slow, teasing circle, grinding his length against your core. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him. Breaking the kiss, Theo trailed his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. Every touch of Theo’s hands felt achingly familiar, yet somehow entirely different. There was a softness to his movements, a deliberateness that hadn’t been there before, as though he was rediscovering you with a reverence that made your heart ache. The way his fingers trailed against your skin, the quiet intensity in his gaze—it was all so electrifying, so much more than you’d remembered. It was as if the time apart had sharpened everything, making each shared moment feel more vivid, more real, more right than it ever had before. Reaching down, Theo guided himself to your entrance, the swollen head of his cock parting your slick folds. With a low groan, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful yet calculated stroke. You moaned out, your back arching off the mattress as you adjusted to his size. Theo stilled, giving you a moment to acclimate, his face a mask of concentration and tenderness.

“Are you okay, amore?” he whispered, his voice low and gentle, cutting through the charged silence like a soothing balm.

The nickname made your cheeks flush, warmth spreading across your face in a way that caught you completely off guard. You’d heard him call you that a million times before, the word slipping so easily from his lips in the past. But now, it felt entirely new. It wasn’t just a word anymore; it was a promise, a reassurance, a reminder of everything that had been and everything that still lingered between you. Theo smiled at your reaction, pleased by the blush staining your cheeks.

“I'm better than okay.” You managed to breathe out, your body shivering as his hands glided over your sides to settle on your hips once more.

“So beautiful…” Theodore groaned softly, punctuating his words with a slow, deliberate thrust, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back into your warmth.

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure rippled through you like lightning. Leaning down, Theo captured your lips in another deep, sensual kiss, his hips finding a steady rhythm. As he explored the wet heat of your mouth, his fingers found your nipples once more, rolling and tugging gently until they hardened against his palms. Breaking the kiss, he gazed into your eyes, his own darkened with desire.

“Tell me what feels good, amore.” he urged, his voice a husky whisper, thick with both longing and vulnerability. “Guide me.”

The words sent a shiver through you, not because of their intensity, but because of the way he said them—so raw, so open, as though he was offering every piece of himself in that moment. His gaze held yours, unrelenting yet tender, and you could feel his sincerity settle over you like a blanket. It wasn’t just a plea; it was an invitation, a chance to bridge the distance that had once separated you, to rewrite the way your story had ended. Your heart swelled at the raw emotion in his words, your own vulnerability mirroring his. You reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until your foreheads touched.

“Touch me.” you whispered breathlessly, your breath mingling with his.You guided his hand lower, to where your bodies were joined, urging him to experiment, to explore the sensitive places only he knew. As his fingers danced over your clit, you bucked your hips against him, a low moan escaping your lips.

“That's it, don’t stop… please.” you panted, your hips rocking in time with his. Theo obliged your pleas, his touch growing more confident, more insistent, driven by your pleas and the desperate need burning within him.

Theodore’s touch was like lightning, electrifying and all-consuming, igniting a fire under your skin that you hadn’t known could burn so brightly. Every brush of his fingers, every deliberate movement sent waves of pure ecstasy coursing through you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. It wasn’t just the sensation—it was the way he made you feel cherished, like every part of you mattered in a way that was almost overwhelming.

Theo's fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, each stroke combined with his harsh thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He watched you closely, drinking in the sight of your flushed skin, your parted lips, your wild hair splayed across the pillow.

“You feel so good.” he breathed, his own arousal throbbing inside you in time with your quickening heartbeat. “I want to see you lose control, Y/N.” As if to prove his point, he increased the pressure, rubbing firm circles around your sensitive nub, his thrusts becoming harsher, deeper, needier. Your back arched off the bed, a high-pitched whine tearing from your throat as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you.

“Don't stop, Theo.” you begged, your voice a ragged whisper.

A tidal wave of pleasure bubbled inside you, building with an intensity that was almost too much to contain. Every moment, every touch, sent it climbing higher, threatening to overflow and consume you completely. It was overwhelming in the best way—like you were teetering on the edge of something profound, a rush of warmth and light ready to break free. Your heart raced, your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but surrender to the sheer bliss of it all, letting it wash over you like a sunrise breaking through the darkness. For Theo, the pleasure wasn’t just in the moment—it was in you. Every expression of pleasure, every soft sound you made under him, every way you moved drew him in deeper, until he was utterly consumed. It bubbled inside him like a fire threatening to escape, an immense, overwhelming rush that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in so long. The way you looked at him, the trust in your eyes as he made love to you, made it all the more intense. His chest tightened, his breath catching as the sensation surged, flooding him with a kind of bliss he never thought he deserved but couldn’t bear to let go of. With a growl of primal satisfaction, Theo slammed into you one final time, grinding his pelvis against yours as he reached his peak. The sensation of his release triggered your own climax, your body seizing up as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name,not caring who would hear, your voice hoarse with ecstasy, as you clung to him desperately, your nails raking down his back. Theo collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving against yours, his forehead pressed to your shoulder.

For a long while, you lay entwined, your hearts pounding in perfect sync, the rhythm of your breathing gradually steadying as the world around you faded into stillness. The only sound was the soft, shared cadence of your breaths, filling the quiet room with a soothing, unspoken connection. It was as though the world beyond these walls had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you suspended in this fragile, perfect moment.

Finally, Theo lifted his head, his captivating blue eyes locking onto yours with a look so full of tenderness, that made you fall for him once again. There was no smirk, no guarded expression—just pure, unfiltered emotion, the kind that made you feel as though he was seeing straight through to the deepest parts of you. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight, hesitant even, as though he feared you might vanish if he held on too tightly.

“I missed you… I missed this.” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, as though the words themselves were sacred.

His gaze searched yours, desperate, almost pleading, as though he needed to know you felt the same. His words struck something deep within you, breaking open the dam you hadn’t even realised you’d built. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding him as much as yourself.

“I missed you too.” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “More than I ever let myself admit.”

Theo closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath as though your words had lifted some unbearable weight from his chest. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart stutter.Slowly, he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, the closeness bringing a sense of calm that felt unshakable.

“I’m not letting you go again.” he murmured, the words a vow, raw and unyielding. “Not this time. Not ever.”

~~~

The soft golden light of morning spilled through the curtains, casting long, gentle streaks across the room. The quiet hum of the world waking up outside was barely audible, muffled by the stillness that lingered within these walls. You stirred slowly, the comforting warmth wrapped around you relaxing you before you even opened your eyes. It took a moment for the memories of the previous night to settle, but when they did, your heart fluttered with a mix of emotions—love, relief, and something that felt a lot like hope.

Beside you, Theo was still asleep, his breathing deep and even. You turned your head slightly, your gaze falling on him. His face was relaxed, his features softer in sleep, free from the guarded scowl he so often wore. You watched him for a moment, taking in the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand rested lightly on the bed between you, as if even in sleep, he didn’t want to be far from you.

It was strange—comforting, even—how natural this felt, as though the rift that had once separated you was a distant memory, something you both had decided, consciously or not, to leave in the past.For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady warmth that spread through you like the sunlight outside. You let out a soft sigh, the sound barely breaking the stillness, and closed your eyes again, savouring the moment for just a little while longer.

Eventually, you sat up slowly, careful not to wake Theo as you turned to look at him properly. You traced the lines of his jaw with your eyes, the faint shadow of stubble there, the soft curve of his lips. His lashes were long, darker than you’d remembered, and they brushed lightly against his skin. Leaning in slowly, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your lips barely brushing his skin. He stirred slightly, a soft humm escaping him as he began waking up.

“Sleep a little longer.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as though afraid to disturb the fragile tranquillity of the moment.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, doing your best to keep your movements quiet. The floor was cool beneath your feet as you tiptoed across the room, gathering your scattered belongings and slipping into the oversized hoodie you had worn last night.

The manor was quiet as you made your way back to your own guest room, the only sounds around you being the faint creaks of the wooden floorboards and the distant chirping of birds outside. Your heart raced with every step, half expecting someone to catch you in the hallway, though it seemed most of the house was still asleep.

When you finally reached your room, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door for a moment to steady yourself. The memories of the night before rushed back in vivid detail, and you felt your cheeks flush as you hurriedly changed into fresh clothes.

By the time you made your way to the dining room for breakfast, the warm scent of coffee and pastries filled the air. The table was only partially occupied—Astoria and Draco sat close, whispering and smiling, while Blaise and Daphne were still nursing cups of tea, their expressions relaxed but tired.

You slid into a chair quietly, keeping your movements casual as you poured yourself some coffee. You could feel their gazes on you, especially Astoria’s, her sharp eyes studying you with a hint of curiosity.

“Morning.” Blaise said, his voice smooth but tinged with amusement. “You’re up early.”

You shrugged, keeping your tone light. “Couldn’t sleep.” you lied, reaching for a slice of toast. “Figured I’d get a head start.”

Astoria raised a delicate brow, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” she repeated, her tone light but teasing.

You avoided her gaze, focusing on spreading jam over your toast. “Something like that.” you said, hoping the flush in your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Draco smirked from his seat beside Astoria but said nothing, his gaze flickering briefly toward the doorway as though expecting someone else to join the table. You forced yourself to act as if nothing had happened, though the events of last night lingered in your mind, a secret you weren’t ready to share. As you sipped your hot coffee, you couldn’t help but wonder how long Theo would sleep—and how long you could keep this new shift between you hidden.

The quiet hum of breakfast was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by Pansy’s unmistakable voice cutting through the air.

“Well, well.” she drawled, her tone teasing as she swept into the room with Mattheo trailing lazily behind her. “Looks like some of us managed to survive the night without too much trouble.”

Mattheo yawned loudly, ruffling his already messy hair as he flopped into a chair with all the grace of a toppled tower. “Speak for yourself.” he muttered, reaching immediately for the coffee. “I’m still half-dead.”

Pansy rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, sliding into the seat beside him with her usual flair. Her sharp gaze scanned the table, pausing briefly on you before moving on. You kept your expression neutral, biting into your toast to avoid meeting her eyes.

“Where’s Theo?” Mattheo mumbled, his voice muffled by the mug he was now sipping from.

Draco’s smirk deepened, his gaze flicking to you for the briefest moment before returning to his plate. “Probably still asleep.” he said casually, though the slight edge of amusement in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

Astoria hid a smile behind her teacup, while Daphne exchanged a knowing glance with Blaise. Blaise leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening as he lazily stirred his tea.

“Or recovering.” Blaise added, his tone light but unmistakably suggestive. “You know Theo—he likes to keep himself busy at night.”

You nearly choked on your coffee, the cup clinking awkwardly against the edge of your plate as you set it down a little too quickly. Your cheeks flushed a deep red, and you kept your eyes firmly on the table, refusing to look at anyone.

Astoria let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Really, Blaise?” she chided gently, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“Just saying…” Blaise said with an exaggerated shrug, his gaze darting briefly to you before turning back to his tea.

Before you could recover, Mattheo yawned loudly once again, ruffling his messy hair as he leaned back in his chair. “Don’t blame the guy.” he drawled, his lips curling into a teasing grin. “Theo works hard when he’s… motivated.”

Pansy snorted, her sharp eyes darting between you and the others. “Motivated, huh?” she said, her tone dripping with mock innocence. Her gaze settled on you, her brow arching slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Y/N?”

Your head shot up, your wide eyes meeting hers as your face burned hotter. “Of course not.” you stammered, but the unconvincing tone of your voice only seemed to amuse them more.

Draco chuckled, his smirk widening as he gestured with his fork. “Relax, Y/N.” he said smoothly. “They’re just teasing.”

Pansy leaned her chin on her hand, her smile sly. “Are we?” she mused, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You groaned inwardly, picking up your coffee mug again in a vain attempt to hide behind it. Their teasing was almost unbearable, but even as you tried to brush it off, you couldn’t help but think of Theo and the events of the night before.

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and the unmistakable sound of Theo’s footsteps filled the room. He appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly tousled, his eyes heavy with sleep. His shirt was rumpled, and the faintest shadow of stubble clung to his jaw, making him look far more casual than usual.

You froze, your stomach flipping as his gaze swept across the table before landing on you. But unlike you, Theo looked entirely unbothered, even amused, by the attention.Without hesitation, he strode over to you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders as he leaned down, pressing lazy, sleep-warmed kisses along your neck. The brush of his lips sent a shiver racing through you, and your cheeks flushed once again as the entire table fell into stunned silence.

“Didn’t see you in bed this morning.” he murmured, his voice husky and teasing, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Missed waking up next to you.”

Your face burned hotter than the sun, and you heard the faint sound of stifled giggles around the table. You didn’t dare look up, knowing you’d find Pansy’s smirk and Draco’s raised brow.

Blaise, of course, couldn’t resist. “Well, well, Theo. Didn’t know you were such a romantic.” he quipped, his grin practically oozing mischief.

Theo straightened, his hands sliding off your shoulders as he fixed Blaise with a pointed look. “And I didn’t know you were so interested in my love life.” he retorted smoothly, his tone light but carrying a subtle edge that made Blaise hold his hands up in mock surrender.

“Fair enough.” Blaise said, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair.

Theo moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, taking a slow sip before glancing back at you. “Come on.” he said casually, tilting his head toward the door. “Join me for a cigarette. It’s too early to deal with this lot.”

The invitation was so nonchalant, so unapologetic, that you could only nod silently, sliding out of your chair as the others exchanged amused glances.

Pansy’s voice followed you as you headed for the door. “Don’t take too long, lovebirds!”

You ignored her, keeping your head down as you followed Theo out into the garden, your cheeks still burning. The cool morning air brushed against your skin, soothing the heat in your face, and for the first time that morning, you found yourself smiling faintly despite the chaos inside.

Theo led you to a quiet corner of the garden, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a practised flick of his lighter. You did the same, the faint orange glow of the cigarettes matching the warmth of the rising sun.

He leaned back against the stone wall, his gaze fixed on you with a sleepy fondness that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours as he leaned in to kiss you. It was slow, unhurried, and achingly tender, his lips lingering on yours as if savouring every second.

The peaceful silence was broken by faint voices drifting from the direction of the house. You could just make out Astoria’s unmistakable tone, laced with triumph.

“Told you they’d end up back together.” she said smugly.

“Oh, shut up.” Daphne groaned. “I’ll get you your galleons after breakfast.”

Theo pulled back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “They’re such goons.” His voice was soft and teasing, the words accompanied by the faintest smirk.

You laughed quietly, your forehead pressing against his as you shook your head. “They really are.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, wrapped in the quiet morning air, the world around you fading into the background. Whatever came next, whatever teasing or chaos awaited inside, it didn’t matter. Right now, it was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

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