#and she's both sensitive AND stubborn

[yaut-jaknowit]

Story idea: pregnant human gets to the point where she just says fuck it and walks around their home in the nude because it's the only way she can be comfortable. Her yautja mate sees this as an absolute win.

Eyes Never Wander

Character: Wolf (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content

Word Count: 2208

Summary: In your homes with Wolf, you are currently pregnant. One thing you've come to learn about Yautja Prime: it's fucking hot and humid. No matter where you lived before could never prepare you for the humidity in the air or the heat that pelted you. With your pregnancy, it has only made that feeling worse. Your clothes would stick to you like a second skin. What's a way to fix that? Go naked around the house. Wolf doesn't mind one bit.

Author Note: Absolute win on both sides. And if you do this while not pregnant. You're about to become pregnant.

Masterlist

Ao3

Out of all the places for you to end up in, this isn’t where you had hoped. The average temperature was a few degrees too high for you to comfortably handle everyday. The humidity was killer as well. It drove you insane when nothing could get dry in a reasonable time. Plus, these aliens have never heard of a dryer. So, any closes you’ve worn take days to dry outside. Even then, they never feel completely dry.

Said clothes would stick to your skin and drive you insane with the over sensitivity of your skin. Everything grew too much for you to handle. In a place you weren’t used to; in home you hadn’t grown up in; with a man you loved so much. He’s the only reason you’ve stayed here, enduring such a harsh environment that wasn’t meant for such a soft human.

Let alone, one so pregnant.

One look at your closet had you closing the door with a slam. “Fuck that,” you murmured and stomped out of the bedroom. Your swollen belly made it evident to everyone what your condition was. No male dared to say a word to you. Yautja or not, do not mess with a pregnant creature. They’ll do everything in their power to protect themselves and their unborn children.

Your male Yautja lover hovers nearby when you go out to the vendors. Wolf will not let you out of his sight around so many people. Though, it was against their code to injure or harm a pregnant creature, he does not trust everyone. You are only human after all. Heavily pregnant and waddling around.

A sight you know he heavily enjoys. His eyes find you whenever you are around. He watches the evidence of his potent seed taking place in your ravish body. You know he likes observing you. He’s never felt this way before with another.

The sound of your fast foot steps catches the male Yautja’s attention. His head peered over the edge of the couch. His gaze immediately finding you marching through the house towards the kitchen. You feel his gaze, piercing through your skin. Nothing to hide the shape of your form moving through the dwelling he’s built.

In the kitchen, you snatched up a fruit that was similar to a dragon fruit mixed with a banana. Strange to look at but it was delicious to consume. When you were about to turn around, large hands gripped at your waist and tugged you flush with a warm, humid body. Despite hating the heat and humidity at the moment, you sighed and relaxed against Wolf’s body. His presences calms you in an instant.

Wolf leaned over your figure and let his tresses create a curtain around the two of you. “What a sight to see, love,” he purred and gripped your hips tighter. “What has caused this? Do you need help with the laundry?” You are stubborn and independent, even in your heavily pregnant state, and want to do everything yourself. Only asking for help when you are in a pinch.

Both of your arms wrapped around the back of his neck and tugged him down a little further. “No. No offence but I fucking hate this area. It’s hot, humid. My clothes won’t dry in less than a day. My clothes stick to my skin uncomfortably. I decided to say ‘fuck it’ and go without. I know you won’t complain.” You find a thin strain of his tress underneath the rest of them and toyed with it, mindlessly.

And boy, were you right.

To have his pregnant mate walking around their shared home, naked. He growled low in his throat and rubbed his jaw against the top of your head. His scent further rubbed into your skin. Though you were pregnant with his child, he loved to continuous mark you up, scenting for everyone to steer clear of you.

Wolf let his hands drift up your sides, skating his claws over your ribs then back down to palm at your thighs. “To see my mate, naked like the day they were born, pregnant because of my doing, walking around in our home… it’s a life I could only dream of.” His claws carefully grazed the tops of your thighs as he touched whatever part he wanted of you.

Then, his hands wandered back north and palmed at your swollen belly. The Yautja was large, towering over your form. His hands slid down a little more to the lip of your stomach and gently lifted up. Instant relief flooded you. You sighed heavily and rest as much as you could against him. Your mate held you there, letting the weight be his burden for the moment.

“This needs to be an everyday thing, Wolf,” you mumbled, voice going hoarse from the lack of power you gave it. Said Yautja chuckled. The vibrations running up your back and spreading out to the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah?” he teased, arms not faulting. “I can’t help it if my seed produces such large offspring.” You elbowed him in the side. He takes the hit without even making a sound.

“Yeah, this is all your fault. Mate can’t keep it down.” Wolf growled, arms flexing without moving your belly. The weight still in his hands.

“I didn’t hear you complaining each time I took you,” he rumbled back to you and lowered his mouth next to your ear. A purr starts in his chest and creates goosebumps. They run across your skin and cover your limbs.

You turned your head enough to send the Yautja a glare and a huff in tandem. Wolf’s purr deepened and helped you relax again, softening against his thick scales. The tress you were playing with, you decided to tug on it. Wolf tensed up, purr stuttering for a moment. “You may never hear a complaint from me in those moments, but you’ve heard me plenty of times now.”

With all the medical care you have access to at your mate’s status, you still can’t get rid of the aches and pains. Sweet, old Wolf does his best to draw baths, massage your aches, and feed you delicious foods. Only those could so far while dealing with a situation such as this.

Slowly, he lets your weight return to you. You whimpered but put your hands on top of his. Your fingers carded between his in a reassuring grasp. The texture of the scales on the back of his hands is stark to your own skin. You mindlessly run your thumbs up and down the sides of his palms.

“That may be true, but I’m beyond thankful for allowing for this opportunity to continue.” He knows if the pregnancy was too far of a risk, even above ten precent of serious injuries or death, he wouldn’t let you talk him into it. A healer had been brought in with the help of a scientist. They were able to give the facts to Wolf about this very situation before it happened. It helped calm his older heart, reassured your chances of passing were low.

Same with the strain it would put on your smaller frame. It took months upon months trying to convince him that this was safe, you would be fine in the end.

Not that he didn’t want to have a child with you. That’s one of the things he wanted most in his life. To see his permanent mate pregnant. The thought of losing you greatly outweighed that want though. It was simply brushed to the back and forgotten about.

Finally, he had broken about eight months ago and took out the implant he had requested you used. For both of your safeties. Weirdly enough, it was instantaneous that you had wound of pregnant that same night. It was as if your body knew it was the perfect time for this to happen.

Now, look at you. The happiest you’ve ever been with your mate, on the verge of starting a family.

Your eyes softly shut as you leaned towards his face and nuzzle against the softer, wrinkly scales on his cheek. “And I thank you for this. I know you are scared. I won’t deny that I’m not either.” You took a deep breath and opened your eyes to find him already watching you closely. “Considering this is hybrid baby. And the father is a towering alien that could pop my skull open like a grape.” Of course, he never would.

His purring deepened again. An upper mandible slowly reached out and caressed my cheek. “I won’t lie to you, little one. I am scared. Still scared. You are the most precious thing to ever walk into my life all those years ago.” He squeezes your fingers in a firm yet gentle grip. “To have this opportunity to create life with you is amazing.”

The two of you stayed like that, just enjoying the moment. The warmth of the other person. It was a beautiful, soft moment. Two lovers basking in their love for the other.

Until the ache in your ankles grew too much. As you took a breath in to speak up, Wolf was easily scooping you up and carrying you over to the couch. The lean Yautja sets you down on the cushiony couch.

Wolf goes over to where the dragon fruit-banana had been dropped and picks it up. His eyes roam over the piece of fruit and walks back over to the kitchen. A whine comes from you as he takes away your snack. Your bottom lip pushing out into a pout.

Said fruit is tossed into the trash can next to the counter. You gasped, ready to argue about throwing away a good piece of food. Then, he grabs another, fresh one and grabs some pink colored grapes. Wolf brings them to you spot on the couch and kneels down in front of you. The bowl of grapes is set off to the side. The banana-like fruit is held in front of you.

The moment you tried to grab it, he pulls it away and starts to peel it. Your hands drop back into your lap as you looked at him with a confused look in your eyes. It was easily peeled. Wolf offers it to you again. You attempted to take it from him but he pulls away enough for you to get the idea. You snorted with a small smile. Then, you leaned forward and take a bite from it.

For a fruit, it had a hint of spiciness to it. Strangely enough, you’ve grown a liking, a need for spicy stuff during your pregnancy. These types of fruit have made your life ten times easier to deal with this stupid craving all of sudden. Well, until your stomach decides it doesn’t like it for a week. That’s been fun to deal with.

He fed it to you until it was gone. The peel was set off to the side on a small side table. Next, was the bowl of grapes he knows you enjoy. Wolf holds them to you in an offering, allowing you the chance to take or deny the gift.

The lovesick smile on your face tells him everything he needs to know. Wolf sets the bowl down in your lap and plucks a grape up. Just like before, he holds it close to your mouth.

Gingerly, you leaned forward and took the piece from his pointer finger and thumb. Once biting past the thin skin of the fruit, it’s flavors burst across your tongue. You groaned and licked at your lips.

This continued until the bowl was empty and you were happy and well fed until lunch. Said bowl was set off to the side. Wolf shuffles closer to you and scoots his way between your legs. Before he touches you though, he looks into your eyes. No words were needed. Not after all this time with each other. You gave him a simple nod.

Wolf timidly rests the side of his head against your belly. His bright eyes were hidden. All his focus was narrowed down on the life growing inside of his wonderful mate.

Something underneath your skin nudged against his cheek. Wolf reared back, head snapping to face you. The expression he held was the most you’ve ever seen him make before. You laughed, head tilted back and savored the image for the rest of your life.

“I-I felt them kick,” he sputtered, astonished at the findings. You placed a hand on your belly and ran a thumb over the stretched skin.

“Yes, you do. They probably recognized that their father was close by. Isn’t that right?” you cooed towards your stomach. Another powerful kick had you wincing. “Alright, alright, thank you for letting me know you’re there.” For some reason, they always got kick shy when Wolf came to feel. This was his first time feeling it.

He placed his throat over the mound of your stomach and started to purr. The kicking instantly stopped. Shit, that works?! It worked on you too. You leaned back against the couch and looked down at him.

For someone who his species consider old, you would’ve never picked another male. Never.

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🖼 🖼 🖼

Credit my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

🖼 Pisces Sun and Sun in the 12th people often have a partner that works behind the scenes in some manner. For example: a musician who doesn’t perform, but is a song writer, a person who works in the theatre, but doesn’t perform on stage.

🖼 Often times when there is 8th house Synastry, there is a higher chance of same sign Ascendant and Sun. One is Leo Sun, the other Leo Rising. The second one is same degree or house Sun sign. For example: one is Capricorn Sun and the other is Sun in the 10th house. Or both have Sun at a Virgo degree. Usually there is a similarity in personality, that’s why there can be an ego clash or both acting in similar manner. For example: both extremely sensitive, both stubborn, both moody, both leaders. The third one I found was having opposite Moon signs, one Leo Moon, the other Aquarius Moon. Or Sun opposition Moon, such as one is Taurus Sun and the other person is Scorpio Moon.

🖼 On a side note, I found the day/number you’re born on, helps with who you find the most attractive in life or who you navigate towards. Like people born on the 3th looove Gemini Sun people I noticed. A person born on the 2nd likes Taurus Suns.

🖼 This is more an astrology note, but I was not aware all these years that Rihanna and Chris Brown too had 8th house Synastry? He was Pisces over the 8th house and she’s a Pisces Sun. No wonder, she went back to him after assault, only 8th house connection has you doing that. So far I noticed Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, Quavo and Saweetie, Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez, Liam Hemsworth and Miley Cyrus, Gisele Bündchen and Tom Brady, Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield had 8th house Synastry.

🖼 There is often a backlash or criticism about Libra Chiron native on who they are hanging with or in a partnership with. These people often are either single for a very long time due to being picky and having high standards for themselves or they “date below them”. These natives really struggle to date an equal. Often people around Libra Chiron don’t like the person Libra Chiron is dating.

🖼 On the topic of one’s Sun conjunction the other’s Moon being often highly regarded in marriage or partnership, I honestly found you either end up having a family or a child with your Moon sign person or it’s a person you dated when younger, somewhere in the period between teenage years and below your 30s. Literally I see no inbetween in real life. Or you were roommates/lived together at some point with them. I’m talking about if you are Aries Moon, then this could apply for a partnership with Aries Sun person.

🖼 I know 3rd house, 6th house is praised for wellness, but often I noticed Gemini/Virgo Suns, Mercury in the 5th house and Sun in the 3rd/6th house procrastinate on working out or not taking it seriously.

🖼 It’s funny how each person you end up dating has the signs of your Venus sign, house, aspects and degree, because it literally indicates the person you attract in your life. For example: you have Taurus Sun in the 6th house at 22 (Capricorn) degrees, your person could have Sun in the 10th house, Sun conjunction Venus, Sun at a Virgo degree in their chart. And usually it’s different partners you end up dating, but all have similar placement. So it’s like you end up dating different versions of the same person.

🖼 One sign that is even more prone to bloating than an average person (even when eating very little or just drinking water) is Virgo Lilith. These poor natives often struggle with bloating and issues relating to it.

🖼 I noticed Taurus Venus and Libra Venus often have more than enough food for themselves and others. And people just randomly give them food or share it with them often. Like even when this people might not have the money they want, they are overabundant in food. 😄

🖼 If you have Pisces over the 9th house or Neptune in the 9th house you should definitely vacation on an island or travel where there is a forest, a resort, a pool or a sauna.

🖼 One good tip for Virgo Moon or Virgo Venus/Venus in the 6th house when it comes to managing sweet tooth is if you don’t feel on the inside at ease eating it, it’s probably not that great for your overall wellbeing. Because you guys get irritated when you don’t nourish yourselves properly. I noticed this people genuinely glow when they put healthier, more organic versions of snacks in their body. It doesn’t have to being anything extra healthy, just not completely artificial.

🖼 If you have Composite Scorpio Ascendant, you two probably met on a cloudy/cold/rainy/foggy day.

🖼 Pisces IC/Pisces over the 4th house/Neptune in the 4th house people often get blamed for whatever wrong is going on in the family. So they are compensating with their escapist tendencies to not feel guilt or shame about it.

🖼 It’s underrated how Sun square Saturn or any square Saturn transit is challenging and tough. You literally get so challenged on how you live, your beliefs, outlook on life and it’s truly a reality check.

🖼 Solar Return chart is great to look into your life a year ahead. But Lunar Return chart is excellent to see it for roughly a month.

🖼 I would keep a high-quality connection with my sibling, if I were to have Scorpio Mercury. Usually these people enter adulthood, enter post-marriage life and start hating on their sibling, even if close in younger years. What happens to you is often in their hands and they can last minute “save” you. It’s best not to say something too quickly and too brash to your sibling, because they will remember those words. You are likely to have arguments over parent’s inheritance too.

🖼 It might go against the grain, but I noticed people choose their profession mostly based on their Moon sign. That’s why you also see Scorpio Moons often struggling to settle on a career, being pulled in so many directions.

🖼 Mars sign often shows people you lust over. But I noticed it works more if it’s not in a cerebral sign. Like if you have Sagittarius Mars or Mars in the 9th house, you might not necessarily find Sagittarius Sun people that physically attractive.

🖼 Saturn in the 3rd house people usually find a job in a different city than home town.

🖼 When it comes to celebrities, you may relate to people who share the same signs over houses that you have in your own Natal chart.

🖼 Pisces Moon can be too arrogant to learn from their past mistakes.

🖼 Venus square Neptune people often desire to return to a past lover (even if many times) in order to try to get better results or wanting to “make it right at least once”. So they can end up being in a cycle or repeating pattern trying to prove that there was love there after all.

🖼 With Composite Sun in the 10th house or Sun at a Capricorn degree (10, 22) it’s close to impossible to hiding anything in this duo from the public eye, parents.

🖼 Whenever someone’s Sun conjuncts the other’s Vertex the connection doesn’t go how you want it to go. Sun person can also “reject” Vertex person in some way, resulting in a fated event.

Credit my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

[maskedbyghost]

hear me out possessive reader x Simon who got into a petty argument earlier that night and course they’re both stubborn, neither willingly to apologize so later that night when they go out to a bar and a girl comes up to flirt with Simon (obviously they both aren’t sitting together, too petty) Simon doesn’t flirt back but he also doesn’t stop the girl from flirting with him. Then maybe that leads to semi public angry sex? In the bathroom, car or maybe alleyway? (≧ᗜ≦)ᡣ𐭩

anyways whatever you do I’m sure will be great!!

you just knew exactly what chaos you were unleashing when you asked for petty arguments, jealousy, and bathroom sex and honestly? you deserve a medal. thank you for the request <333 nsfw (18+), public sex (bathroom), possessive/jealous behavior, angry sex, rough handling (grabbing, hair pulling), slight dom!reader, unprotected sex

You were still pissed when you got to the bar, still wearing the same ugly little scowl you'd had in the car, arms crossed tight, sitting two seats away from Simon like you couldn’t even stand to be next to him, and honestly, if it wasn’t for the way he kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye, you might've actually believed he didn’t give a shit either.

You didn't even remember what the argument was about, something stupid, something about the laundry or the dishes or maybe about the way you kept stealing his shirts and he kept pretending not to care until you pushed a little too far and now here you were, pretending you didn’t want to climb across the bar and bite his stupid smug face off.

You were nursing your drink and ignoring him as hard as you could when she showed up — all bright eyes and big smiles, standing too close to him, hair flipping over her shoulder like she was in a commercial, laughing at something he didn’t even say, and you caught it, the way Simon didn't flirt back, but he sure as hell didn't stop her either, just sat there like a goddamn statue while she pawed at his arm and leaned in too close and touched the back of his hand like she had any fucking right.

You watched it for maybe ten seconds too long, clenching your jaw so hard your teeth hurt, your whole body coiled so tight you thought something inside you might snap, and when Simon caught your eye over her shoulder and smirked — that lazy, slow, come and get me smirk — you knew you were gonna lose it.

You slammed your drink back and stood up fast enough to knock your stool over, and if anyone in the bar noticed, you didn’t care, you were already stalking toward him, your boots heavy on the sticky floor, your heartbeat a mean little drum against your ribs.

You didn't say a word when you reached him, just grabbed a fistful of the back of his hoodie and yanked, hard enough to make him stumble off the stool, hard enough that the girl gasped and stepped back, all wide eyes and clutching her purse like she was the victim here.

Simon went with it, of course he did, laughing low under his breath like he was having the time of his life while you dragged him toward the bathrooms, shoving the door open hard enough that it banged against the wall, ignoring the people who turned to look because you didn't give a single fuck about appearances anymore.

The second the door swung shut behind you, you shoved him up against the sink, grabbed his face in both hands, kissed him like you wanted to punish him for breathing, for looking good, for letting someone else think she even had a chance, biting his lower lip hard enough that he groaned into your mouth and grabbed your hips, trying to pull you closer.

"You liked that, huh?" you snarled against his mouth, nipping your way along his jaw, biting just under his ear where you knew he was sensitive, where you knew he'd make that broken little noise you liked so much, and sure enough he shuddered and squeezed your waist tighter.

"Didn't do anything," he rasped, but you could feel the way his cock twitched against your thigh, could feel how fucking gone he already was, and it only made you meaner.

"You let her touch you," you hissed, shoving him back just enough so you could hop up onto the sink, dragging him between your thighs like you owned him, fumbling his belt open, yanking his jeans and briefs down just enough to free him, rough and messy because you didn’t care about being gentle, you didn’t want gentle, you wanted yours back.

Simon groaned low in his throat when you grabbed his cock and guided him to your dripping entrance, locking your ankles behind his back, yanking him forward until he bottomed out inside you with one deep thrust that had both of you gasping.

He tried to set the pace, but you weren't having it — you tightened your legs around him, dug your nails into his shoulders through his hoodie, made him fuck you the way you wanted, hard and deep and fast, pulling him in again and again while you leaned in close to his ear and let the words spill out, low and filthy and cruel.

"Mine," you snarled, grinding down against him when he tried to catch his breath, "You’re fucking mine, Simon, no one else touches you, no one else even fucking looks at you, you hear me?"

He choked out a broken little whimper, hands clenching uselessly at your hips like he couldn't decide if he wanted to fight you or just give in and let you ruin him.

"Say it," you demanded, yanking his hair back so he had to look at you, had to see the crazy in your eyes, had to feel how fucking serious you were.

"Yours," he gasped, voice raw and wrecked, "Only you, only ever you, fuck, I’m yours—"

You squeezed your legs tighter around him, kissed him filthy and hard as he spilled inside you, hips jerking desperately, his cock twitching against your walls as he came, thick and hot, filling you up so good it made your own orgasm snap right behind it, squeezing down around him, milking every last drop while he whined into your mouth like you were breaking him in half.

When you finally pulled back, chest heaving, your thighs sticky and trembling, Simon just leaned his forehead against yours, his whole body shuddering, smiling that stupid little smile he only ever gave you, the one that made you want to wreck him all over again just to see it.

"You’re fucking crazy," he rasped, dazed and breathless.

You grinned at him, cocky and wild and smug as hell. "Yeah, babe, we all know that," you said sweetly, tightening your legs around him again just to hear him curse under his breath.

And you were already thinking about round two.

--------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate

[writtendaydreamm]

The On-Call Room

Summary: Y/n and Langdon try to get some rest in the same on-call room but get a little distracted.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Smut if you squint

Author's Note: Based on this request. Sort of a prequel to The Hospital Gossip Mill. Let me know your thoughts and feedback!!

Two loud knocks was all it took and Langdon was wide awake. 

Already in a shitty mood having to pull a double today, all he wanted was some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask? To get just a little bit of sleep in before having to go through another eight hours in the pit. 

Looking down at his watch, he groaned. By now he would’ve been at home, probably getting ready for dinner plans with Y/n. But instead, he was here. At the hospital. Where he has been since 8AM. All because of that nasty bug going around. Already short-staffed, it was one sick call after the next this past week. From doctors, to nurses, to admins - everyone was catching it. One of the few left standing, Langdon took one for the team, staying back to cover Dr. Ellis on the night shift. 

Throwing his legs over the stiff, sorry excuse for a bed the hospital furnished the on-call rooms with, Langdon walked up to the door grumbling to himself. This better be an emergency otherwise someone was about to get ripped a new one. He wrote it clearly on the whiteboard outside: 

DON'T KNOCK, CALL IF URGENT 

Can people not read? Brows furrowed tightly, Langdon yanked the door open wide, raring and ready to unleash the string of profanities on the tip of his tongue until he saw who was in front of him. Y/n.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” she teased, walking straight past him before he could even get a word out. 

Sticking his head out scanning the halls, he was relieved to see they were empty. No one at work had a clue they were dating and they intended to keep it that way.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home by now?” he asked trying not to sound too annoyed as he locked the door behind him. 

Yeah, she should have been. The last surgery on her schedule today was a simple hernia repair. It wouldn’t have taken more than an hour. But the patient’s stubborn mother decided to ignore the explicit directions not to feed her 24-year-old man-child any food while he waited for an OR to open up. Now the 20 minute wait for an OR turned into a 6 hour wait for the casserole to digest. 

“I don’t know how she snuck that Tupperware past the nurses,” Y/n snorted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Looks like we’re both in for a long night.”

Leaning into her touch despite himself, Langdon’s eyes closed instinctively. The feeling of her thumb agaisnt that sensitive spot on the nape of his neck transported him back to the night before. How her fingers brushed against that exact spot, how they worked down his back, the welcomed burn of her nails as they scratched against his skin, the sound of her gasps in his ear as he-

Snap out of it, he told himself. Now was not the time for dirty thoughts about what they did last night. What he needed was to go lay down, not get worked up. Clearing his throat and his mind, he focused on the present.

“The on-call rooms full up there?” 

She nodded. They always were. About to slum it on one of the sofas in the surgical staff lounge, she remembered one of the last texts he sent her:

ED lounge is empty and lonely. 

Wish you were here 

Well, here she was. Wish granted. Sure, it was risky sneaking onto the ED floor. If someone saw her that would’ve been the start of a new rumor for sure. It would’ve spread around the hospital faster than that bug everyone was sick with. But he said it himself, no one was around. And with their dinner plans obviously canceled, this way they can squeeze in more time together. Even if it was spent just napping. 

“You don’t mind, right?” she pouted, looking up at him, willing him to forgive her for waking him up like she had. Batting her lashes, her thumb brushing that spot on his neck that had him like putty in her hands. 

He rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he minded. It was that he was concerned about getting some actual sleep. He wanted to get at least an hour in before having to go back onto the floor. But two of them, confined in a tiny room with basically nothing but a bed, getting sleep was low on the list of things they could get up to in here. 

What was he supposed to do? Kick her out? Tell her no? He couldn’t. Even when he really wanted to, even when it was the right thing to do, even when she got on his damn nerves - like just now, blatantly ignoring the sign he wrote on the door - he could never say no to her. 

They managed to fit on the small bed slotting into one another like puzzle pieces. It was a tight fit considering these beds were made for one, but neither of them minded. The sheets were scratchy and the pillow paper thin, but with her back against him, his arm draped over her, it was actually kind of cozy. 

After promising no funny business, the room was silent save for the AC burring and their steady breaths. 

Finally dozing off, Langdon suddenly tensed, feeling Y/n shuffle in his arms. Her hips backed into him. It was only slightly but it was right against the one part of his body he had no control over. Assuming it was a one-off, he shuffled himself back a little to create some needed distance between them. But she did it again, just moments after.

Here we go, he groaned to himself. Just what he was afraid of. They were supposed to be sleeping with each other. Not sleeping with each other. 

He wasn’t going to react. Nope. He wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of a reaction, of knowing the effect she had on him. 

Summoning his will power, he fought against his body’s natural, primal response to her body moving against his. It wasn’t easy. Not only did she consume his physical senses, but she consumed his mind as well. Every thought was of her. Memories of her pretty face contorted in pleasure, her bare skin meeting his, her smart mouth stuffed full of him, all glued to the forefront of his mind.

He forced himself to think about that gross bleeder he cauterized this morning and that biker in South 2 with his leg bent out of shape waiting for Ortho, but it did nothing. How could it when with each passing second her movements became more brazen and shameless. Each roll of her hips grating on his self control.

“Y/n, stop,” he warned.

“Stop what?” she mumbled, playing innocent. But there was nothing innocent about what she was doing, the way she grinned her ass into him. It was deliberate and debilitating. 

“You promised,” he scolded. But there was no conviction in his voice. Or in the way he gripped her hips, a vain attempt to stop her before they went too far, before he couldn’t hold himself back. 

“I can’t help myself,” she whispered in a whine. Her hand moved behind her, palming him over his scrubs. Pleased at how hard he had gotten already, she chuckled. “Seems like neither can you.”

Whatever was left of his fragile resolve crumbled under her touch. His body had betrayed him totally. Fuck it, he thought. He was only human after all. Once again unable to say no, he surrendered to her whim for the second time that night. Placing feather light kisses on her neck, he indulged himself in the feeling of her hand stroking him slowly, sensually. Up and down, up and down. It was just enough pressure to offer relief but not enough to satisfy.

“Y/n,” he said again. This time less like a warning and more like a plea. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Good thing I’m a doctor,” she smirked.

“Smartass,” he murmured against her skin. 

No longer fighting his own need for her, his fingers dipped under her scrub pants. Her gasp was quiet and small, but unmistakable as his warm fingers pressed against the growing damp spot on her lacy panties. Feeling just how wet she was already, he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck whispering against her skin. 

“This what you wanted, huh?” 

Reveling in the sensation of his five o’clock shadow grazing against her skin, of his fingers sliding her panties to the side and slipping between her slick folds, she could only hum in agreement. 

That wasn’t good enough. No, he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Use your words, baby,” he demanded, his middle finger teasing her entrance.

Oh, she loved it when he got like this. All controlling and assertive. The tension in her core tightened. She pulsed against his finger in anticipation. About to speak up, to tell him this was exactly what she wanted, a loud beeping and buzzing beat her to it. 

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed louder than he should have. Throwing his head back on the pillow in exasperation, he couldn’t believe his luck. Of course his phone would be going off at this exact moment. 

The sound of Y/n’s laughter filled the room as he answered it. A finger held up to his lips, urgently gesturing her to quiet down. Not just because they could pick it up on the other end, but the way she was laughing they could probably hear her through the walls out in the hallway. Hand taped over her mouth she muffled her laughter as best she could, but this was just too good. A call right as they’re about to really get things started, right when he finally gave in? It wasn’t fair at all, but it was damn funny. 

Langdon was not nearly as amused by all this as she was. Not amused at all actually. The look he gave her as pointed as a knife’s tip. She knew just how to dull that sharpness though. Running a soothing hand up his back, fingers gently massaging the back of his neck, ensuring to touch that sensitive spot again.

The only thing Langdon found more upsetting than getting called back down to the floor early was how easily he folded for her. He was wrapped around her finger, and even worse, she knew it. Dragging a hand over his face, hoping to wipe away his fatigue and frustrations, he let out a deep sigh rising from the bed. They needed an extra set of hands down there, and as shitty as he felt, the patients down there felt a whole lot shittier. 

In the middle of adjusting his scrub pants, trying to conceal the hard-on that hadn’t gone down yet, he paused, confused as to why Y/n was getting out of the bed too. It wasn’t common practice to use other departments’ on-call rooms, but there weren’t any rules forbidding it. “You can stay y’know.”

“I know, but I should go back up anyway. Make sure my patient’s mom isn’t feeding him any more casserole,” she said, only-half joking. “Besides, I’m all strung up after that. No way I’m falling asleep now.” 

He shook his head, a smile creeping on his face as he watched her fix her own clothes. She was nothing but trouble, but she was all his trouble. As she turned towards the door, he grabbed her arm whipping her back around and into him. Face to face, chest to chest, he leaned in taking her by surprise for a change. The kiss was hot and hurried, leaving them both wanting for more. 

“Meet you back here after that hernia repair?” he suggested breathlessly.

Y/n nodded excitedly, “Definitely.”

High off each other, the pair stepped out into the hallway without so much as a second thought. In hindsight they should’ve checked to make sure no one was around, or maybe not walked out at the exact same time. For two people trying to keep their relationship a secret, it was a quite careless thing to do. But it was what they did. And now they had to convince Perlah, who was out in the hallway brows raised in surprise, that there was a totally normal explanation to what she just saw.

“I was just looking for an empty on-call room,” Y/n said, beginning to explain the situation to Perlah. The way she worded it made sense. The on-call rooms up in surgery were full, so she ended up here only to find Langdon already inside the room.

But Perlah did the math in her head and it wasn’t adding up. If Y/n came down to crash in an open room, and Langdon was using the room but is heading back to the ER now, why wasn’t Y/n staying in the room then?

“If he’s leaving, why are you leaving?” she questioned Y/n skeptically.

“Well I just got a call to check on my patient,” y/n answered back smoothly. Not a total lie but definitely not the whole truth. 

“Yeah she got the call exactly the same time I got called back,” Langdon added trying to really sell the idea this was all just some big coincidence and nothing more.

Perlah eyed them both suspiciously, not completely sold on the BS they were throwing at her. But like Langdon, she was working a double too, and didn’t have any extra energy to waste. So, she ignored her inner tsismosa urging her to keep digging for details, and let it slide this time. She left them in the hall, heading into the storage closet across the on-call room, grabbing whatever it was she came down here for in the first place.

Langdon and Y/n exchanged uneasy looks. Worry settling in the pit of their stomachs. Was this it? Had they been caught?

“Do you think she bought it,” Langdon mouthed, barely above a whisper.

Y/n could only shrug and pray that she did.  “Let’s hope so.”

[yelenasbraid]

JOE BURROW — maintaining professionalism [ pt. 7 ]

series summary — She’s a witty, stubborn athletic trainer for the Cincinnati Bengals. He’s the star quarterback who can’t take his eyes off of her. The more she works with him, the stronger the magnetic pull. She’ll do anything to maintain professionalism, and he’ll do anything to get the girl.

chapter summary — He finally gets the chance to show her how often he thinks about her.

warnings — fem!reader, SMUT (MDNI ‼️), fluff, joe is so horny my god

note — sorry for the late update! i’ve been grinding for the past few hours and wanted to get it out before i overthought too much. pls enjoy!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | epilogue

tags — @starsinthesky5 @definitelynotdomanique @majestic87 @joeyfranchise @joeyburrrow @joeyb1989 @belleann23 @wickedfun9 @hannahjessica113 @kravitzwhore @musicforsnoopy @burreauxsss @grandpeachpersona @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @noeesd19 @burrowswomen @xbriexx @grittysbiggestfan @dboanalagoaaoo @harryweeniee @kazsbrckkers @wellwellhereiam @hotburreaux

“JOE,” SHE MOANED, his lips peppering down her jawline, down to her neck, “not here,”

“Then where?” he hummed against her neck. His hands gripped her hips, massaging her through the fabric of her clothes. Her mind was blurred, her neck tilted, revealing more of her beautiful skin.

Joe was supposed to go home after she confessed her feelings for him. He was supposed to get rest, to heal the parts of his body that were sore from the game. After she’d confessed, he didn’t think about anything else. All he wanted was her.

Which led him to keeping her in his arms, his lips peppering down her body, outlets for the pent up desire that raged through him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, one of her hands digging into his curls, her fingers pressing into his scalp. A low, soft moan vibrated against her skin.

“My place,” Joe decided, his teeth nipping at a sensitive spot on her neck. Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around his curls.

“Yeah, sounds good,” she breathed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as his lips sucked at her skin. Her body ached, tendrils of warmth latching onto her nerves and pulling her closer to Joe. Her pussy throbbed, swelling at the mere thought of having Joe in the most intimate of ways.

timeskip — at Joe’s house

His house was beautiful. Warm, bright lights illuminated the door as Joe stepped up to unlock it. He led her inside, keeping his hand intertwined with hers.

His heart thudded against his chest. He shouldn’t be nervous, but it was her. The woman he’d fallen for, the one who’d managed to wiggle her way into his heart. He didn’t want to let her go, and he wanted her in ways that were unprofessional.

Yet he didn’t care.

He led her into the bedroom, the moonlight streaming through the curtains. He shut the door behind them with a soft click, their breaths only filling the room. He stepped up to her, watching as she looked up at him.

Her eyes are sparkling. They’re beautiful as they look up at him, twinkling with the shared desire they both felt. He backed her onto the bed and she laid against the plush mattress. Her heart is racing, her skin warm as he hovers over her.

It’s the moment they’ve both been waiting for. The months of tension that led to this very moment, the warm intimacy that coursed through their veins. Joe settled down on his elbows and captures her lips in a slow, sensual kiss. She inhaled deeply through her nose, her arms looping around his neck. His lips were warm, slotting perfectly against hers. It ignited her body, her nerves wired with the need that wound in her gut.

Joe pulled away, but only to pepper kisses down her jawline and down her neck. She tasted so sweet, and the soft breaths she gave him fueled the fire in his gut. One of his hands threaded through her hair, gently tugging her head to the side. Her eyes were closed, lips parted with the breaths that left her lungs.

With every kiss, he grew more desperate. His fingers moved to the hem of her shirt, his skin brushing with hers. Tingles prickled her skin as his hands dove under her shirt, pushing the fabric over her bra-clad breasts. He parted from her neck, leaving her breathless. He tugged the shirt from her body, his lips kissing her cleavage.

“Beautiful,” Joe hummed against her skin, his tongue darting between her breasts. His hands slid around her back, popping the strap of her bra free. Ever so carefully, his touch light and tender, he slid her bra off of her shoulders, freeing her breasts from the cloth. His hands slid to settle on her hips, tugging at the fabric of her shorts. The anticipation was killing him, the ache that pulsed in his cock drove the desperation that ignited his veins.

She watched as his lips pressed to the soft skin of her stomach, his tongue tracing her skin. The velvet of his tongue against her skin grew goosebumps on her body. The ache in her pussy intensified, throbbing in sweet intimacy. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, his body glowing in the dim light of the room. His fingers pried down her shorts, sliding them down her legs. His lips met hers inner thighs, inhaling the sweet musk of her arousal.

There was no waiting. Not when she looked this good, not when her muscles were outlined by the shadows of the room. Joe pried her panties from her body, her slick sticking to the crotch of her panties. He tossed them aside, kissing her inner thighs again.

“Joe,” her voice was a desperate, silky plea. His touches were incendiary, shocking her nerves. His fingers slid up her folds, collecting her arousal onto his fingers. He felt his cock twitch at how sticky and wet she was, at the sounds she made. She shuddered, her eyes fighting to stay open as she propped herself on her elbows. His eyes were dark, twinkling with his lust.

“So wet for me,” he murmured before his lips met the sweetness of her folds. His tongue flicked over her, collecting the arousal she produced. His hands stayed on her thighs, keeping them open. Her moans, simple yet so beautiful, shot down to his cock, making it twitch in his shorts.

His tongue slid up to her clit, flicking the sensitive bud. He closed his lips around her, his tongue massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves. The burn that he produced, the way her stomach shuddered with the pressure of a building release made her moan. Her hands clenched the sheets, her back arched beautifully against the bed. Her legs shivered with his touch, threatening to close around his head.

“Fuck,” she breathed, every flick of his tongue, every time he dove between her folds to taste her, it pushed her closer to the edge of the knife. One of her hands threaded through his curls, tugging at his hair as his ministrations continued. She tasted amazing, a sweet musk that he needed injected into his veins. His eyes slowly slid up to hers, hooded with the high she was giving him.

He pulled away, strings of her arousal leaving his lips. He used a thumb to wipe his lips, kissing back up her body. He captured her lips with his, this time it filled with hunger. She moaned against his lips, the ache that ignited her body. She tasted herself, the sweet and salty sensation burning her tongue. She tugged him closer, her body shivering as her taste slid down her throat.

He pulled away, shedding off his shirt. His body glowed in the moonlight. His skin was beautiful, and her fingers brushed over his skin. His fingers worked the hem of his shorts, stripping him of his boxers and shorts. Her eyes flicked to his cock, how angry and red and big he was. Before she could have any sort of reaction, he lowered himself onto her, kissing her again. Her body shivered, feeling the hardness of his cock brush against her swollen pussy. She moaned, grinding her hips against his.

“Shit,” he moaned against her lips. His body was electrified, wired with the aches that coursed through him. He rested his forehead against hers, one of his hands stroking his hard and sensitive cock. He lined himself up with her, flicking the head of his cock against her clit. She gasped, the burn so good she felt her muscles tense.

“You ready?” he asked her, and she only nodded. He guided his tip in, and his hands settled on her hips as he pushed himself in. His lips parted, soft grunts leaving his lungs. She arched her back, his cock stretching the plushness of her walls. His hands gripped her hips, his lips still ghosting over hers.

She was so tight, pulsing around his cock with her need. Her pussy was wet, slick with the arousal he’d conjured up with his touch and his tongue.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his chest heaving with his breaths. She felt so right, so good, and he could feel every throb of her pussy around his cock.

She let her eyes slide closed, strangled moans leaving her parted lips. Her mind went hazy, her hands gripping the sheets as he pushed into her, his curls brushing against her forehead.

It took her a moment. He stretched her, the burn created by his cock had her heart racing, her teeth gritted together with both pain and pleasure. She always figured Joe was packing, but feeling it inside of her was a different world itself.

“God,” she breathed, “yes, yes I’m ok,”

Her words were sweet to his ears. His body was pressed against hers, his nose brushing her cheek. He flexed his hips, starting with slow, deliberate thrusts. Their breaths mingled, whines strung together as he thrusted into her.

“Fuck,” he moaned, her walls clenching around his cock, squeezing him, begging him for more.

“Joe,” she whispered, her arms lazily wrapped around his neck. His name sounded heavenly falling from her lips, a prayer to him. He responded, his hips snapping a little faster against hers. Her mind went hazy, her jaw slack with the moans that spilled from her throat.

“God, you sound so beautiful,” Joe murmured as he kissed her jawline, his eyelashes tickling her skin. She couldn’t form words, his thrusts taking them from her. The sweetness of his movements rippled through her body, ignited her blood as it flowed through her veins. Her lips were parted, her back arched into his chest. His hands held her sides, his lips brushing against her jawline.

“Joe,” she breathed, a desperate and silky sound that wrapped him in a blanket. His hips moved against hers, his cock hitting her g-spot at a perfect angle. Her walls clenched around him, the sweetness of her building orgasm making her whine. Her arms wrapped around his back, her nails digging into the taut and thick muscle of his back.

“Gonna come for me, pretty girl?” He growled in her ear, his lips brushing against her ear. She shuddered, the pressure pressing down on her lower abdomen, adding to the pleasure his cock was thrusting into her. Her legs squirmed, bending and shaking, the moonlight catching the muscle of her thighs.

“Yes,” she breathed, her head pressing against the pillow. Joe’s eyes flicked from her ear to watch her face. Her eyes were closed, her hair displayed around her head like a halo, but in this moment she was no angel. Her forehead creased with her concentration, the moonlight catching the beauty of her skin. His eyes darkened, his own pleasure building as he thrusted into her, his cock buried so deep he could feel every part of her pussy around him. Every second he fucked her, the closer she brought him to his own orgasm.

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he hummed, his lips brushing against her temple, “wanna watch you,”

Her nails dug into his back, her body coiled so tight she thought she was gonna explode. His thrusts were so deep, pushing against the plush of her walls. She whined, shuddering as she finally tensed. She twitched, a moan ripping from her throat as her orgasm snapped over her. It was hot, all consuming.

Joe shuddered as he felt her come around him. It took everything in him to hold back his own orgasm. He gritted his teeth together, but his eyes watched her. Her lips, parted with her moans, her sides heaving against his hands, his fingers leaving indents in her skin. He slid his hand up her body, gently grabbing her chin. He angled her face down, slotting his lips against hers.

“So fucking good,” he murmured against her lips. She moaned into his mouth, her skin hot and slick with sweat. She kept her arms around him, her hands sliding up to cup his face. His lips were hot, nipping at her bottom lip, his tongue brushing her teeth. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at the curls.

“I’m not done,” he growled against her lips, “gonna make you scream for me,”

The promise in his tone made her shiver. It caused her nerves to prickle and her pussy to throb. Joe pulled out of her, his lips leaving hers. He looked down at her, raising himself up on his hands. She watched him, his muscles popped with his weight. The shadows danced across his body, illuminating the muscles she knew he worked so hard for. He was delectable.

His hands guided her body, turning her onto her side. She went to roll onto her stomach, but his hand stopped her.

“I’ve got you where I want you,” he promised her, leaning over her and kissing her shoulder. Her stomach fluttered, her eyes cast to the wall in front of her. He had her on her side, his hand rotating her hip. He placed her leg over his shoulder, stretching her quad. His eyes roved over her skin, watching as the moonlight highlighted her muscles and the wetness that dripped out of her pussy.

His hands ran along her legs, his touch prickling her skin. Her breath hitched, the stretch in her legs adding to the thrill in her gut. Her thighs shuddered under his hands, his callouses scratching against her smooth, toned muscles.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Joe mused as he pressed his lips to her calf, his eyes cast down to her body, contorted to his liking. His other hand reached down, the touch against his cock made him hiss. He had to control himself; he was going to make her fall apart and scream before he got his own pleasure.

Consider it a selfless act.

Joe lined his tip with her entrance, circling the rim before he pushed himself in again. Joe threw his head back, his right hand gripping her thigh over his shoulder, his left attached to her hip. He didn’t give her much wait time, his hips rocking against hers. She gasped, her body jerking with the increasing pace of Joe’s hips. She reached out with her hands, gripping the sheets as his hand gripped her thigh.

“Shit,” she moaned. His cock hit her in a whole new spot, her sensitivity from her previous orgasm shattering her nerves. She looked up, Joe’s face loose with bliss. His lips were parted, the moonlight perfectly catching his muscles. He was a greek god in his element, and she was his muse.

His thrusts were relentless, the bed rocking with his movements. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, his cock hitting her g-spot in the most perfect of ways. He was hot, his thrusts wet with her arousal and his pre-cum. His hand moved to the under side of her thigh, pushing it towards her body. She whined, the stretch burning her body. His pace increased, skin slapping against skin, balls deep into her pussy.

“My pretty girl,” Joe leaned over her, his hand moving up her stomach, his fingers wrapping around one of her breasts. He kissed her shoulder, his voice gruff with his pleasure. His body was hot, the pressure building in his body threatening to spill over. He held it back, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. She moaned, her body shuddering again. He knew what that meant, and he smirked against her skin.

“Joe,” she whimpered, her body hot and coiled so tight she couldn’t think. Her heart slammed in her chest, making her squirm. Her leg tightened over his shoulder, her heel digging into his back.

“Wanna hear you,” he murmured as he pulled from her skin, “come for me,”

The rubber band snapped, her second orgasm washing over her in waves. Her body folded, her lips parted with the whimpers that left her lips. Her body burned, her pussy throbbing with the slick that slipped out of her. She felt her stomach cramp, her thighs shaking. Joe pulled out, making her hiss. Her nerves were frayed, her body overstimulated. She flipped onto her stomach, her hands stretching above her head. Her back muscles glowed in the moonlight, and Joe needed a minute. He tilted his head back, taking controlling breaths.

If he looked down at her right then, he’d paint her with his cum. He didn’t want to come yet, he wanted to have his way with her one more time. His eyes slowly looked back down at her, her back arched and her hands stretched above her head.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growled, his hands grabbing her hips. His hands ran up her sides, his body leaning over hers, his lips finding her neck. His hands caressed her sides, sliding up her arms, finding her hands. He interlocked their fingers, kissing her neck.

“Joe,” she moaned into the pillow. Her thighs shuddered, her body burning with a mixture of arousal and exhaustion. It made for the perfect cocktail, and Joe planned on taking everything she had to give him.

“One more time, sweet girl,” he whispered into her ear, his teeth grazing her skin, “you can take it,”

“Joe-”

“You can take it,” he assured her, “I know you can,”

She trembled, his hands running back down her body. Prickles were left in his wake, her skin shivering. His hands grabbed her hips, his lips kissing between her shoulder blades. She flexed, and Joe licked his lips. Her back muscles were beautiful, and he loved how strong she was. Her personality matched her body; strong and beautiful.

He sat up, grabbing her hips. His fingers pressed into her body, firm and tight. His heart thudded in his chest, his breaths heavy and thick. His cock twitched, his need for his release almost painful. He bit his lip, one hand moving to her hair. His fingers dug into her strands, pulling her back. She whined, but not because she was in pain. It didn’t hurt, but she felt the ache in her body. Her back arched, coiled tighter than she’s ever been bent before.

His other hand guided his tip in, her wet and gummy walls sucking him in. He groaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He immediately picked a relentless pace. His hand moved to hold her hip, his other hand hoisting her head further back. His thrusts were brutal, creating a burning sensation in the depth of her pussy. She moaned, her fingers digging into the plush of the mattress.

“Feels so good,” he moaned, his eyes closed. He fought off his own pleasure, even as her walls clenched and pulsed around his cock. He whimpered, his hand tightening in her hair. Her back was coiled so tight it stung, but she didn’t argue with it. She was his muse, his all-consuming thought.

No words materialized. Her brain was grey, foggy with the static of his movements. She whimpered, her back arched, her body jerking with the force of his thrusts. He fucked her deep, hitting every corner of her vagina. The room was thick, hot with their intimacy. Her skin was hot against his, his hand gripping her hip with a bruising force.

Without warning, she snapped. She cried, her moans loud and filled with both her shock and the burn of her orgasm. The wetness of her release coated the grooves he’d fucked into her walls. She whimpered, her body sore. Joe immediately pulled out, flipping her over. He needed release, he needed to make her his masterpiece.

She looked up at him, her body squirming on the bed. Her body ached, her muscles sore and twitchy. Her eyes were blurry with her pleasure, but she caught his movements. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping himself. She watched as his cum, hot and milky, released onto her stomach. Her breath hitched, her eyes flicking up to his face. His head was thrown back, his whimpers filling the room. His hand continued, his cum squirting onto her body. He squeezed the last little bit out of his tip, and he lulled his head back forwards.

She reached out, dipping her finger into the milky substance on her stomach. She slid her finger into her mouth just as he laid over her body. He tasted salty, tinges of sweetness in his cum that made her shiver. She removed her finger, her eyes locking onto his. Her muscles shuddered, his forehead pressed against hers. His breaths were heavy, hot with his exhaustion. His body ached, his heart slamming in his chest. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his eyes closed.

Her muscles twitched, sore with his intimacy. His hands slowly slid up her body, his fingers intertwining with hers. She whimpered, her body pulsing with the overstimulation that ripped through her muscles.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the force of his orgasm. His muscles still trembled, but he knew she felt the brunt of it all.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her nose brushing his, “perfect,”

Her words made him smile. He kissed her, a gentle and tender expression of his affection for her. He pulled away, keeping his forehead against hers. He let the moment sit, the quiet of the room wrapping around them. His mind finally screwed back in, his thoughts filing back.

He finally had her.

The one he’s wanted for months.

“Y/N,” he hummed, his eyes opening and peering down her. Her eyes peeled open, the beauty of her expression smoothing over his frayed nerves. He reached up with his free hand and caressed her cheek.

“Good thing it’s the offseason, right?” she whispered with a small smile, and Joe let out a huff of air. As intense as their intimacy was, he didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t want this to be an offseason hookup. He wanted her. Every day.

“I don’t want this to be an offseason thing,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around her.

“I don’t either,” she admitted, her eyes filled with nothing but affection for him. He was beautiful, his cheeks flushed with the efforts of their intimacy. She wanted to have him every day, in every domestic moment. She wanted to come home to him, to enjoy the warmth of his presence.

But she couldn’t. Not with her current position.

“We’ll figure it out,” Joe promised. He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same thing. She broke her contract that night, she broke her promise to the Bengals franchise. As of right now, no one knew. But Joe knew it would only be a matter of time.

“I know,” she whispered, “but I don’t want to think about it right now,” she admitted. Joe gave her a soft expression, leaning up and kissing her forehead. He moved his lips down and kissed her sweetly on her lips. He sighed, her lips soft and warm, slotted perfectly against his.

He pulled away, sinking down beside her. He tugged her into his embrace, his hands roaming her back. Her skin was soft, flinching with her sensitivity. Joe kissed the top of her head, giving her a comforting squeeze.

“You sure I didn’t go too hard?” he asked, and her gruff chuckle lit his heart up.

“I’m sure,” she assured him, peeking up at him. Her eyes were so beautiful, sparkling with the affection she felt. Her heart swelled, her mind fuzzy with her feelings. Her butterflies flew about, making her stomach churn. The sensations she felt were reflected in his eyes, the emotions that swam behind her eyes also swam behind his.

He was in love with her. His muse. His goddess.

“Okay,�� he hummed, kissing the top of her head again. Silence spread across them, settling overtop of them like a blanket. The AC ran over their bodies, cooling the heat of their skin and solidifying the sweat that stuck to their bodies.

He’d always choose her. She’d always choose him. No contract or professional expectation could keep them apart. As she laid her head against his chest, and as his chin rested on her head, they both silently agreed to never leave each other’s side. They didn’t know what that looked like, there was a lot they didn’t know. But that wasn’t for them to think about.

All they knew is that they needed each other like the air they breathed, and that was enough.

[northopalshore]

Saturn in the

Union persona chart

The placement of Saturn in the UPC shows you restrictions and limitations that you may encounter in your relationship or while pursuing a relationship with your significant other. Although the placement affects both parties, it's still going to be mostly on your side since it's in your chart.

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Mini guide | Union Masterlist

♄ Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

This placement usually manifests as your priorities getting in the way. It's not really one where your job or life is a big nuisance towards the relationship, but it's more so that you or both you & your spouse have other things in your life that naturally have come before the relationship. Just as how meeting your partner doesn't immediately bring your story to an end; your life still progresses. Stubbornness from one or both parties will also be apart of the delay/limitation; your patience is tested and forcing to see each other may be faced with a myriad of obstacles.

♄ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

Money or stability is likely a limiting factor in your relationship at first, perhaps your partner has to work or you have to work. Literally money is the priority. There may be controlling aspects to your relationship as well (whether from you, your partner, your family or your career demands). Stubbornness from parents , your partner, or just disagreements with family in general may also be involved.

♄ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

When you meet this person, you are likely going to be very busy or there are a lot of things that have to be completed or tended to at the same time. It might also be difficult for you to keep in touch as well or at least communicate as often as a "couple" or as people who are interested in seeing each other romantically as well. There might be some difference in how you speak which includes the body language and spoken language, there is this hesitation that may come from your side (or whichever part has Gemini aspecting Saturn). You might sound too formal or find it difficult to express yourself fully at first. You might feel rather awkward as well or be more quiet than you normally are.

♄ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

Immaturity, an age gap, children, safety or home related agendas could cause some strain or delay in your relationship's progression early on (depending on other signs it's paired with, you can paint a clearer picture). Generally, distance may also contribute to the limitation your relationship may face. You may live far away from your partner, or one of you may be living with your parents and have to be wary or that. Emotional uncertainty, sensitivity, and loneliness may be at play when you first start getting together. You might not be able to open up emotionally, or touch / hug them often.

Ex: Priscilla Presley has Saturn in Cancer (°24 Pisces) in the 2nd house. Besides their alarming age gap (she was 12, he was 24 when they met in West Germany) & parents disapproval, their relationship was also tested/delayed by Elvis's career ( and that he moved back to the US about a year after they met).

♄ Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

When you meet your partner, you may not be in the position to be in a relationship (at least in your head). You may be at a point of keeping to yourself or keeping away from romance in general. It will be hard for you to start seeing each other or date each other; like going out on dates or even planning them will be a little difficult and may take a lot of effort just to plan them. You might not be able to go out together, or have fun together like a regular couple for various reasons; from distance, work, privacy or even the nature of your relationship in the first place. If you do decide to see them, it will take a lot of effort from your side.

♄ Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

There may be issues with someone's health, livelihood, responsibility and work that will delay your relationship progress. There may be something blocking you from spending time together or living together even. It's not that you or your partner is too selfish to see past their own lives either, you both acknowledge your own separate lives and that may affect the time you get to save for each other for example. You may literally lack the time to see each other as well even if you do not live that far apart.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

♄ Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

A legal issue may be the cause of restriction in your relationship, whether it's a citizenship issue, prior marriage/ related, or literally a prison sentence. There may be a professional relationship in the way of your romantic relationship as well (at first); you both have chosen a more work centric lifestyle that benefits your wallet/ court more than an actual romantic relationship. In this case it might be.. the dreaded "I fell in love with my coworker" trope!

♄ Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

Controversial issues ( political, alarming age difference, power gaps, in a relationship with someone else) , boundaries, burdens & trust issues can inhibit you from immediately jumping into a relationship with your future spouse. Gossip or people's opinions and jealousy (whether from you, your partner or other individuals) may contribute to that as well.

♄ Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

With this placement, you are weighing a lot on your mind, besides the obvious issue surrounding cultural difference and physical distance, there is also a part of you that will think of the overall impact that being with this person will have in your life. You will weigh your options. Being with them may seem like putting yourself on hold in terms of growth especially if you were previously on a roll. Instead on one thing on the line, it feels like everything is so naturally, hesitation comes foreward.

♄ Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

Age gaps, professional demands, control issues, prior commitments may slow down the progress of your relationship's development; there's still that interview you need to get to, your boss still wants your paperwork on time & customers are still expecting your shop to open every morning. A legal battle or confinement (prison) may also be likely.

♄ Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

Your preference for personal freedom, your identity or public presence, independence, very different lifestyles or the desire to break free from control may hinder the growth of your relationship. A relationship with them may seem restrictive of your own wishes and priorities; having to consider their opinion more than your own at times and that will be quite draining to you. It doesn't always mean you partner is an asshole— but you yourself realize that to be with them, you must be willing to compromise your own decisions at times.

♄ Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

Distance will likely be somewhat of a restriction for you as well. You might not be able to see your partner quite often because of that, or you may think that your partner is too different or far from you whether physically or mentally. It's likely you have different backgrounds, and see each other a little differently as well. You may live in different towns, states or even countries and that will put a restriction on the amount of time you can actually see each other. In some cases, age could be a limiting factor as well. Take that as you will. Your subconscious fears will also limit your progression.

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Thank you for reading ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union persona chart 2025 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[littlelovelunette]

Sevika and reassurance? Like being with a needy partner who craves cuddles and reassurance 24/7 and even tho they wear the toughest exterior outside their safe space and being known for being so grounded and strong but behind closed doors only sevika can see how vulnerable and clingy they can get

I love your fics so much, i cant believe i haven’t seen your blog sooner i’ve been obsessed with ur fics for two weeks now and its always on point! Exactly what i need and its pretty impressive how fast you can write

Reassurance

Thank you so much, I always try to write whenever I have my free time and its a coping mechanism for me so I'm glad you all like the fics that I like. Thank you for taking the time to let me know that!! <33

Sevika noticed.

She always did. She wasn't dumb, of course she wasn't. She was one of the most observant women in all of Zaun and living the rough-and-tumble lifestyle that she did, she learnt to talk less and observe more.

You always were tough on the outside. Always. Never did you ever let your softer side show while you fought for Zaun alongside the other woman.

That's what made Sevika slowly start to gain interest in you. Although, she was emotionally guarded at first and a little shocked that she was falling for someone— she didn't let that stop her subtle gestures of affection.

She'd bring you flowers, coffee when you had to stay up late and held you close to herself when you both had midnight walking dates.

Sevika observed you for a while before she asked you to be her girlfriend which you happily agreed to, and she was mildly surprised when she saw you acting soft and sensitive when around her and her only.

Out in the public, you were fierce, undeterred by anything that happened to anyone.

You were absolutely unshakeable with a stubbornness equal to none.

But behind closed doors, you were her baby.

And you needed constant reassurance that you were hers and she was yours.

Sevika, although she barely told you it, loved this side of yours.

You were so head over heels for her and so obsessed with every little thing that she did. She was your emotional anchor and she knew it. She revelled in it.

Sevika was playing poker as per usual and you were by her side.

You were pouting, however, with your frame covered in her poncho as well— you had gotten drenched in the rain earlier and had probably caught a fever so Sevika insisted you stay wrapped up in the red cloth to keep your body warm while she quickly finished up her last round.

“I'd kill for cuddles right now.” You whispered to her as she took a sip of her alcohol.

“Wanna wrap this up and get going?” Sevika asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft considering she was just motherlessly degrading one of the men playing against her.

You nodded, face fixed with a small pout and Sevika didn't waste a moment, dropping the cards as she obviously won her last round.

“Wrap up, boys.”

You watched as Sevika finished and helped you up. You started walking out of the bar with her.

“You sure you'll be fine on your feet?” Sevika glanced down at your shivering frame.

“If we were at home, I'd let you toss me around and carry me however. I feel like Ima pass out.”

“Then let me.” Sevika insisted although she didn't look like she'd let you walk anymore. She was genuinely worried.

“There are people!” You whisper-yelled.

“And? Everyone knows we're a thing, it won't kill you if you let me carry you home.” Sevika reasoned, her voice a low grumble.

“Ah, forget it.”

And in the next moment, Sevika whipped you off your feet, carrying you bridal style with her, back to the shared apartment.

You sighed a little and would have told her off if you weren't this tired and drained already. Besides, she was definitely much stronger and bigger than you. It wouldn't have mattered even if you did protest.

Once you both got home, Sevika put you in bed and undressed so she was only in her tank top and shorts.

“Cuddles.” You said in a baby voice and extended your hands towards her.

“You're so clingy.” Sevika didn't mean any offense and you knew it. She loved how much you needed her every single day.

“But I love you like this.” Sevika added before she hugged you close to her own impressively big frame.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, cuddle bag.”

[bootycallin]

I see your reader who needs their clit played w, I raise you....Vi x reader who needs penetration to cum? And Vi just playing w her clit, edging her, and it feels good obviously but she just need need needs to be filled up to cum and Vi is so condescending about it and just won't give her what she wants okay I'm rambling but think ab it

UGHHH this lowkey sucks but i wanted to write it. cw: wlw. female reader with strict female anatomy. pet names (cupcake, baby, etc.). clit play obvs. dacryphilia if you squint a lil. a littttle degradation? idk. kinda fluffy at the end. not proofread.

this is torture.

one mention of it. one single mention of it to her and she’s on you. she’s making it her life’s mission—not one thing is going inside you. not her tongue, strap, fingers- whatever.

she wants you to feel what it’s like.

“vii…!” she could listen to you cry and whine for ages, really. she’s humming against your clit, and only your clit. she’s not tried to move down once. it’s frustrating—worse when your clit’s so fucking sensitive you’re bucking up into her, back away, all the way back to her eager tongue.

“mhh… what, cupcake?” she knows damn well what. you’re almost in tears, poor girl. but she wants to hear it from you. she needs to hear it from you.

“f-fuck—vi, too much…!”

how do you explain it’s not? it’s not too much, but it’s so little at the same time. every little touch of hers on your clit feels like electric shocks, poor spent bud twitching under the wet muscle. and yet it felt so good. but not enough, and god, you just wanted to fucking cum. by now you could’ve let it all go, but nooo.

because vi is as stubborn as a goddamn mule. and she’s gonna do whatever she sets her mind to. and right now, that’s making you cum through your clit.

“so wet,” she briefly nips at your clit, grinning at the way you squeal and arch your back at the shock that runs up and down your spine.

“pretty fucking baby.” she says, and you don’t have to look at her to know she’s got a shit-eating (well, pussy-eating) grin on her face. her attack is only briefly stopped, as she replaces her tongue with her fingers, pulling the hood of your clit back and running sharp little circles right on the nub. her movements are quick, and she only needs one finger to make you fucking scream.

“shiiit!-“ you’re sure you sound stupid, but you can’t help yourself. your legs try to close out of instinct, but vi is right there to force your legs open, tutting.

“no, no. keep those legs open,” does she really think you’re listening?

“fuck, fuck, viiii…!” you whine, throwing your head back. fuck, so cute. vi can’t help but think, watching your thighs twitch, toes curling into the sheets, pretty back arching. her fingers are working on automatic, even as she lifts from between your thighs and kisses up the valley of your breasts.

“ah-!”

her hand is firm holding open your thighs, fingers still working on your wet, sensitive nub. she kisses up your tits, trailing up, up, up. a kiss to the underside, to your pretty areola, right on top of your nipple, a sharp gasp catching in your throat. she’s hungry, giving open mouthed kisses to your perky nipples, biting, working her tongue the same way she did when you were making out.

your brain’s as messy as your pussy. wet, plain dirty noises sounding, along with your echoing moans and whines and whimpers that turn her own brain into mush. she could cum untouched just listening to you moan and cry like this. there’s a particular little gush of wetness on her fingers that tells her she’s on the right track, the way your noises get somehow needier and louder. you’re close, she can tell. she’s growling as she slobbers on your chest, tits still in her mouth as she makes an effort to look at you and give both tits the same attention as she gives your dripping cunt.

“vi, vi, vi, vi—“ fucking broken record. “fuuuck…!”

it’s something you’ve never felt before. you’re squirming, almost like you’re trying to run from her. you can’t close your legs to find some respite—so you’re left to bend your thighs and kick your feet slightly as if that would help anything.

“mmh, close?” she groans, finally letting your tits go and lifting her head, staring right down at you. you didnt notice how flushed her face was, coated in a slightest sheen of sweat. this was fucking hot for her too. her pussy’s aching like fucking crazy, but she’s not focused on that.

“baby’s gonna cum, yeah?” you could only reply with a dumb whine as her fingers press harder on your clit. she’s a blabber mouth, she can’t help it—“yeah. pretty baby’s gonna cum, hmm? like it when i play with your clit? isn’t it so good? see, don’t even gotta fill this slutty cunt up to make you cum.”

you can’t formulate phrases. you can just barely process her chuckle as you whine and cry, blubbering senselessly, you can just barely process as she fucking slaps your clit—and you burst. a flash of white over your vision, your back arching instinctively, body tensing.

the noises are fucking delicious for her. fingers working quickly on your clit even as you cum, watching as your pussy grows impossibly wetter with sticky cum, your voice raspy by now with how you scream.

she only has some mercy when you genuinely start to cry, figuring your clit’s too sensitive—and you can’t even breathe right, so she definitely got to her goal.

that doesn’t happen without her slapping your clit one last time, though, grinning almost cruelly at how you nearly sob.

her hand meets your cheek, gently rubbing her thumb over your skin and coaxing you to open your eyes. she kisses your tears away. lips just barely brushing over your wet lashes.

“that hurt,” you whined slightly, and she chuckled softly.

“yeah. sorry. overstimulated you a little.” and that’s because she had mercy. if she didn’t, you would be sobbing by now.

“but did it feel good?”

“yeah…”

…

“think you can handle another one?”

“no!”

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[mekakitsune]

stubborn switch!jinx x fem!reader – nsfw - minors dni

you loved jinx, you truly did. she had been nothing an amazing, supportive girlfriend– but you swore you couldnt take much more of her bratty attitude and snarky comments.

her actions in the alley earlier that night? yeah, they led you both here. the nail in the coffin– if you will.

much like her own previous actions, you now had her pinned; back pressed firmly against the old, torn leather of the couch in her hideout, your lips and teeth on her throat.

"get on with it already..." she mumbles, clearly not intending to drop the disobedient act. her hips pressed against yours almost pitifully, desperate for more friction. your hand found her hip and you press down, pinning her to the surface further.

"s'only fair...you were so, so cruel to me earlier." you fake pout at her, lips turning quickly into a smirk as you notice the rapid rise and fall of her chest. "doesnt feel s'good, does it baby?" your eyes bore into hers, seeing her expression faulter at your words.

sure, she was the one being cruel here.

a mix of a whine and a frustrated groan fall from her lips as she sqiurms in your grip, making the feeling of dominance send rushes of blood to your brain. the normally temperate room felt hot, thick with tension and desperation.

"give me one good reason i should help you right now." you spoke low, tone more serious than before. it makes her shiver as she attempts to press herself farther into you.

"because– ahh fuck" she stutters a moan when you grind you hips into her, hands still holding her hips in place.

"hmm, try again with words baby. i asked you a question." you smirk at her, hips rocking slightly. she huffs a shaky breath from her lungs.

"you'll– help me because– hah– because you know you cant control yourself." despite her broken words and moans, she smirks, that challenging glint still ever present in her gaze.

"i dont think m'the one who needs to be controlled here anyways, angel." your teasing words and pet names make her head fuzzy, feeling nothing but the heat rapidly growing between the two of you.

your hands trail along her bare sides, the heat of her skin warming your palms. a shiver rips through her as you drag your nails across her skin, her reactions were making you want to continue to tease her until she was a mess.

"youre awfully sensitive..." you coo at her, her hips continuing to roll into yours. "course i am, youre killin me here, sweetheart." she huffs at you, clearly growing impatient with your teasing.

before she can continue, you slide between her legs– spreading them. shes soaked, the sticky fabric of her underwear stuck to her cunt, and the sight makes your mouth water.

you lean in and press your lips against her clothed pussy, feeling the warmth through the thin cotton as she gasps above you. her fingers lace themselves into your hair, guiding you closer to her. your tongue finds her clit, swirling around against the soaked fabric.

"fuckin– god.." she moans, hips pressing farther into you. "hm, not quite." you giggle against her. you continue to play with her –and as soon as you sense that knot in her stomach was forming, you pull away.

the sight of her makes your heart pound; hair messy and lips swollen from getting caught between her teeth constantly. you lean to catch her lips in a hot, desperate kiss as her arms wrap around your neck. her tongue rolls against yours, small whines sounding from her throat at the taste of herself on your tongue.

breathless, the two of you pull away. "need you s'bad baby....gotta feel ya." she sighs, nails now scratching at your own skin. you giggle at her desperate display and move to pull her underwear down, followed by your own. you take her leg and move it so you can slot yourself between her thighs, pussy lined up with hers. the moment your skin connects feels electric, tingles running up your spine as she soaks you. you roll your hips, groaning at the friction of her clit against yours. jinx moans out below you, shamelessly gushing against you.

"s'messy jinx...youre so wet" you bite your lip, hips moving steadily as she just about loses it below you.

"yeah...fuck– s'all for you baby. you feel so fuckin good." she admits, thighs shaking in your hold. you continue to fuck her, watching her every reaction as she begins to fall apart. her moans pitch as her hips buck to meet your thrusts.

"gonna make me cum baby– fuck.." she sucks a breath between her teeth, thighs tensing under your fingers. you swear you can feel her throb against you as you grind against her needy pussy. your own orgasm builds as jinx pants wildly beneath you, nails digging into the skin of your arms. desperately grinding, the knot between you finally snaps and you are cumming messily against each other. the sounds that fill the room are downright sinful as you bask in the rushing pleasure.

jinx whines out at the overstimulation as you continue to fuck her slowly, her eyes glossy as she stares at you with the bottom lip between her teeth.

"you got another one in you, yeah?" you smirk at her, panting. "s'what you wanted baby, right?" her body melts below you as you linger on pushing her past her limits. her voice is hoarse and strained moans fall from her lips.

"oh my god– fuck m'gonna cum again..." her hips are grinding pitifully into your own, wet pussy mixing with yours.

"shh, i know, give it t'me baby, cmon–" you urge her as your own high approaches again. the room is hot and damp as the two of you fall apart. her orgasm crashes over her, you following shortly in a messy, desperate way.

you grind through the high– only pulling away when your thighs begin to burn. you move down to catch her lips, stealing the breath from her lungs. she sighs into the kiss, her hands finding your shoulders as you melt into one another.

"did so good f'me baby, so good." you whisper to her, hands rubbing at her skin soothingly as she shudders from the aftershock.

pulling away, you shove her gently so you can flop down onto the couch beside her. her arms open, and you find yourself laying on her chest. her heart is still beating fast, a constant, steady pounding against her chest.

"yknow, pissing you off will never get old." shes still slightly breathless, but you can hear the smirk on her lips. you look up at her with a lazy smile, eyes rolling as she beams at you.

"yeah...whatever." you huff, and she giggles; a sound you loved to hear. her hands guide to lay against her again, and she presses a kiss to the top of your head, eyes closing in content.

"just...so you know though, it made me so mad to see that idiot flirt with you. i guess i just, get kinda scared when i think about losing this...losing you." her words make your heart soar. you know she isnt the best at recognizing her feelings, let alone putting them into words.

"if it makes you feel any better, i was trying not to laugh in his face while he did it." you giggle at her, fingers lacing with hers. "i love you jinx, nothin will change that, ever." you squeeze her hand, and she swears she could cry.

"i love you too, always will."

i have been so dead lately i apologize :c working thru my requests tho!

[bonesmithsstuff]

Azriel - Tethered Souls

Warnings: Swearing, mention of sex, scars, physical abuse, and I think that’s all.

Masterlist |

── .✦

" Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways? "

Azriel had been radiating a palpable tension for days. Despite his role as Spymaster, the members of his family had almost immediately noticed how the unease reflected in his tightened features and shadowed gaze. It was clear that something was tormenting him, but no one had managed to get an explanation out of him. His behavior, already reserved by nature, had become nearly impenetrable, as if an unscalable wall had been erected between him and the rest of the world. His dark mood had ended up casting a shadow over those around him, to the point that even Cassian and Rhysand had begun watching him with growing concern.

Though he had never been one for conversations, his stubborn silence and the aura of discontent he exuded every time he entered a room had become impossible to ignore. Not even Elain, with all her sweetness and sensitivity, could pierce the barrier the Shadowsinger had built around himself.

The first to notice the change had been the youngest of the Archeron sisters. Feyre had shared her concern with her Mate. Rhys, for his part, had almost seemed relieved by the sudden distance between Azriel and Elain —yet, as days passed, his concern for his brother's state grew steadily more persistent.

No one knew what could be troubling the Spymaster so deeply. No one, except Y/n.

To her, the answer was painfully obvious.

The fear that her feelings might take permanent root inside her had become a paralyzing dread. As always, her instinct had driven her to flee, to choose the simpler path: distance. The fear of pain had made her incapable of surrendering to something that might had the power to completely destroy her. Protecting that fragile fragment of her heart that still belonged to her seemed like the only sensible choice. And yet, with Azriel absent from her daily life, she’d come to the painful realization that even that fragment had flown away with him. It was as if, by pushing him away, she had allowed the emptiness to seep into every corner of her soul, making it harder with each passing day to ignore how much she missed him.

It had all started accidentally, when Rhys had forced them to work together to train the Illyrian females in WindHaven, teaching them the basics of defense and battlefield survival. Neither of them had been thrilled at the prospect of working side by side.

Azriel was used to operating from the shadows, alone, while Y/n had always wanted to prove her worth without relying on anyone.

Her determination had been the first thing to catch the Shadowsinger’s attention. They had clashed in a sparring match no more than five minutes after meeting, and every time Y/n ended up on the ground, she got back up with unwavering resolve. She was a skilled fighter, but against Azriel, her chances were minimal —as they were for anyone else. Even for the men she usually defeated with ease.

And then he knew it. He saw it in her eyes every time she stood up again, in the way she clenched her teeth and lifted her chin, refusing to accept defeat. He knew she would never yield to anyone.

Perhaps it was their rivalry, and their mutual disdain, that had masked the truth —that Y/n had become the Spymaster’s silent obsession. Every fight, every exchange of sharp words, every defiant glance had created a bond between them that neither was ready to admit. The tension had grown unbearable, an invisible thread that tightened every time they were too close, too aware of each other’s presence.

The first night they ended up in bed together had been an accident, the result of built-up frustration and the ever-mounting tension between them. But the pleasure had been so immediate, so natural, that surrendering to it felt inevitable. There had been no room for doubt or hesitation -only the urgent need to bridge the distance they had maintained for far too long.

If Y/n was an independent woman, confident and with the spirit of a leader, in the sheets she revealed an entirely different nature. Azriel had sensed it from their very first kiss —from the way she yielded to his tongue, from how she welcomed the pressure of his hands without resistance. She offered no objection to his dominance. She gave him control, completely. And never, never had the Shadowsinger felt more aroused than in those moments when Y/n surrendered to him without reservation.

It was the contrast between the strong woman she showed the world and the total submission she offered him in those moments that drove him to obsession.

The most primal instinct would take hold of Azriel in the blink of an eye, and it wouldn’t let go until he had heard her moan his name —bent to his will and undone by pleasure. And if she enjoyed provoking him, he was certainly no better.

He would always bring her to the brink of frustration before granting her what she craved. And often, he gave her far more than she dared to ask for. He pushed her past the limits she thought she had, made her give in with a single look, a calculated touch, a word whispered against her skin. Just like notes bending to the will of a composer.

And yet, when morning came, reality would return to divide them. She withdrew, he fell silent, and everything started all over again. An endless cycle, a dangerous game neither of them had the courage to stop —or even acknowledge.

At first, they would simply retreat to their respective rooms, each after satisfying their own desires. But after many encounters, Azriel had started to linger a little longer than necessary. Their conversations were always tense and full of bickering, but both were too caught up in provoking each other to notice how close they were becoming.

The Spymaster took care of her with a meticulousness that surprised even himself. He would prepare scalding baths for her, clean up the mess they’d made, check that the bruises and handprints he left were healing, ensuring they caused her no more pain. And in those moments, as Azriel cared for her, Y/n never once complained. In fact, she felt strangely reassured by that new sensation of being tended to —as if, finally, she could feel a little more at ease. A little less alone.

Slowly softening, she too began to offer small gestures of affection to the Shadowsinger, gestures that seemed more precious to him than anything else. She would run her fingers through his hair when he couldn’t sleep, massage his tense shoulders after long training sessions, and tend to his scarred hands whenever she sensed his insecurity.

But then came the realization.

One day, she didn’t show up to training, and Azriel’s worry took hold immediately. By the end of the day, still without word from her, his unease had turned into full-blown anxiety. It wasn’t the first time she’d disappeared —just as Azriel sometimes had to leave without notice for Spymaster duties, Y/n, the daughter of the camp’s chief, had “business” that demanded her attention. Still, that evening, when Azriel went to her cabin to find her, he finally discovered what really happened when she vanished without a trace.

«Y/n?»

His voice, sharp and anxious, cut through the silence as he stepped inside. He was no longer the kind of man to feel awkward about their intimacy, so he moved quickly toward the bedroom —only to find it empty. A dull sound from the bathroom made him hold his breath —a flicker of relief that did little to ease the knot tightening in his chest. His mind had been in turmoil all day, starved of her presence, unable to even catch her scent for comfort. Azriel wasn’t the type to fight his feelings, even if he had spent decades hiding his love for one woman without ever making a move. But with Y/n, it had always been different.

The moment he saw her, his mind went blank.

She was hunched over the large tub filled with water, her bare back facing the door. Azriel froze for a moment, stunned by the raw torment radiating from her posture. Deep cuts marred her pale skin, and blood stained the floor around her. Her body trembled, her shoulders shaken by muffled sobs, and the pain seemed to tear through her from within. Azriel stood paralyzed, his eyes filling with rage and disbelief. Never before had he seen her so vulnerable, so fragile.

«Ehi…» He whispered, trying to make her aware of his presence. But she didn’t answer. On the contrary, she made a visible effort to ignore him, keeping her tear-streaked face turned away.

The male approached, kneeling beside her.

«Leave.» She whispered, pride laced through her voice.

It was a vain attempt to protect the image she had built for herself —a strong woman incapable of showing weakness. She didn’t want anyone to see how fragile she really was, how incapable of taking care of herself. She had craved strength so badly that she had been willing to endure anything, just to change something in her life, just to stop feeling alone.

That was when Azriel truly looked at her —perhaps for the real first time. The flickering candlelight in the room illuminated her back, revealing old and new scars, white marks that painted her skin like a map of every battle she had ever fought. Some of the cuts were so faded that, in the dark, Az had never noticed them before. Partly because of his own hands —so rough and calloused they had become insensitive, incapable of perceiving the delicate ridges of freshly healed wounds.

There, curled up in the corner of the bath, she looked so small, burdened by a weight that never should have been hers to carry. If he had known how, he would have taken that pain from her, shouldered it himself. He would have healed her wounds, done anything in his power to ease her torment.

Azriel bent to lift her from the cold floor, but the moment he reached for her, she shook her head, trembling. Her eyes squeezed shut as though she feared he might hurt her.

Her wounds needed to be cleaned before they became infected, the dried blood washed from her skin.

«I won’t hurt you.» The male whispered, trying to soothe her. «Never.» His shadows, ever by his side, drifted toward T/n with a gentleness he had never allowed himself to show. They brushed against her with tender care, wrapping her in an embrace that felt like safety.

Only then did she look at him. Her eyes, glassy and full of pain, made Azriel’s chest tighten —as if the weight of her suffering had become his own.

That was the moment the bond snapped into place.

It struck him like lightning, a tidal wave of pain and despair that stole the air from his lungs. Her torment flooded through him, searing and raw. He felt her fear as though it was born within him.

«Promise me.» She whispered, staring at him intensely. Clarity had all but vanished from her gaze, and the only thing she seemed to seek was reassurance. A tether to someone who would never treat her the way those who had hurt her had. «Please —promise me you’ll never do this to me.»

Her palms were flat against the floor, her cheeks damp with tears, eyes red from crying. Azriel, still shaken by the power of the mate bond, by her plea, held her gaze with fierce intensity.

Without thinking, he cupped her face in his hands, steady and sure. «I swear I would never touch you against your will.» He said, his voice unwavering. «I will never harm you. And I will do everything I can to heal your wounds —if you’ll let me. Whoever did this to you... will pay.»

His words had the effect he’d hoped for. Y/n slowly relaxed, sensing a safety she hadn’t felt in a long time. As the male spoke, a tattoo began to form across their bodies —the mark of a promise, one that burned softly against their skin. Serpentine ink curled along her thigh, winding up to her side, and mirrored itself on Azriel’s flesh.

When he finally wrapped his arms around her, he felt her tears fall silently against his skin. He didn’t care that her blood might stain his clothes —his only concern was her pain. Her suffering. Her.

He lifted her gently and lowered her into the bath, wincing at the sound of her pained whimper as the warm water met her raw skin. While he cleaned her back, relief filled him at the sight of the wounds already healing. They weren’t infected, and after a few hours, they had fully closed —leaving only faint, barely visible scars.

Despite their closeness, she said nothing more. She refused to answer any of Azriel’s questions, remaining silent and lost in her own thoughts. Az could feel the pain she was trying so hard to hide, but he couldn’t bring himself to push her.

As an invisible wall rose between them, he wondered if she could sense his worry —his rage. And even if she could, the Shadowsinger could do nothing but remain there, haunted by the thought that maybe… she had never truly felt the bond at all.

When she finally fell asleep between quiet sobs, Azriel stayed awake, keeping an eye over her. From time to time, when she stirred, he soothed her with a gentle touch, trying to offer what comfort he could —trying to hold her together.

And yet, as his hands traced the scars on her skin, his heart filled with growing fury. Every mark of pain, every wound she bore, made something inside him unravel. The more he counted, the more the Spymaster craved vengeance.

And yet, she stubbornly insisted on keeping the culprit from him.

It was driving Azriel mad —not being able to punish the one who had hurt his mate. The memory of her pain gnawed at him, as did the crushing weight of his helplessness. And the disappointment… the sting of being constantly pushed away by the very woman the Mother herself had fated to be his.

A few nights had passed, and after days of silence between them, Azriel had been forced to return to Velaris. Rhys needed him for an important mission, but the Spymaster couldn’t focus. Being away from the camp meant he couldn’t protect her, and the thought of something happening to her while he was gone ate away at him. If harm ever came to her in his absence, it would break him entirely.

His breaking point came with a simple sentence from Cassian: «Y/n told me she wants to stop training…»

Just hearing her name —casually tossed into the conversation —was enough to snap Azriel’s attention, like an arrow shot straight into his chest. His body reacted before his mind could catch up.

Instinct took over in an instant.

In two strides, he was in front of his brother, slamming him against the wall with a growl so fierce the house trembled.

«What did you say?» His voice was low, guttural, like a storm brewing in the mountains surrounding Velaris. His amber eyes blazed with rage.

«Az, what the hell?!» Cassian gripped the Shadowsinger’s wrist with force, trying to push him off, while Rhysand quickly stepped in to separate them.

Azriel froze for a moment, shaken by his own reaction. It took only a few seconds of silence for him to regain control. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotion threatening to drown him.

He couldn’t go on like this. He had waited too long to find someone who might allow themselves to be loved by him —someone who was meant for him. And of course, the Mother had chosen the most stubborn female in all of Prythian just to make things more complicated.

«She also said she’s thinking of leaving Illyria. Does that matter?» Cassian’s voice was unsure, still confused, but Azriel’s low growl made him tense up.

The tension between the three brothers was thick, and Azriel’s anxiety was written all over him. They had never seen him like this —so shaken, on the edge of either fury or collapse.

«I need to go. Now.» His voice was a quiet plea. But before he could take another step, Rhysand moved in front of the door, blocking his path. «Move.»

«This isn’t the time to storm in there like that.» Rhysand’s tone left no room for argument, and his sharp, resolute gaze made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate any defiance. Azriel knew that, and if he were thinking more clearly, he’d never speak to his brother like that —but the situation was overwhelming him. «If I understand what’s happening here… then maybe you need to breathe first, brother.»

Cassian seemed to be the only one still in the dark. He watched Azriel pace the room, increasingly agitated. His frustration was building, and Cassian, so used to his brother’s calm, stepped closer, clearly surprised by the outburst.

«Would someone care to explain what the hell is going on?» Cassian raised both hands in surrender, like he was ready to give up on resisting. «Why was I fucking pinned to the wall?»

«There’s only one thing that can make a male lose control like this… especially someone like Azriel, right?» Rhysand grinned, finally understanding the root of his brother’s storm. His expression softened, almost amused, as he looked at the Shadowsinger. «Finally. Your mate. After everything you’ve been through… you deserve her, Az.»

Cassian was speechless. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, unable to form any words. Then, with a knowing smile, he stepped closer to his brother and clapped a hand on his shoulder. «So what the hell are you still doing here? Go get her.»

But suddenly, Azriel didn’t seem thrilled by the idea. He ran both hands over his face, exhausted, and collapsed into one of the armchairs in the House of Wind’s sitting room.

«I don’t know if she’ll accept me.» He said quietly, anxiety thick in his voice. His heart felt swollen with dread. «But I still need your help with something.»

Azriel told them everything. He explained how it all began —how he had felt the bond snap into place a few nights ago, when he had found Y/n trembling in the bathroom. How he was convinced those injuries were meant as punishment for training the Illyrian females, and how someone else was likely enduring the same treatment.

The next morning, just as dawn began to paint the sky above Velaris, the three brothers made their way to the camp. They marched like soldiers, determined to put an end to the madness.

They reached the barracks of the camp leader, where Devlon was caught up in a heated argument with a young woman. The Shadowsinger didn’t need to search for her —her eyes found his immediately, and in that instant, it finally felt like he could breathe again.

Azriel, ever the skilled Spymaster, had quickly uncovered that the man behind all that pain was none other than the young woman’s own father —the camp’s leader.

But before they could do anything, they needed proof. Enough to bring the man to justice. So the High Lord requested a private conversation with Y/n. When the door to Rhysand’s house in WindHaven closed behind them, the woman found herself unusually calm. Her gaze was fixed solely on her mate.

«I know this is personal.» Azriel began, his voice softer now. «But I also know you want this to stop —for you, and for anyone else who’s still suffering. I made a promise, and I need you to show them the scars. Show us where. Give us as many details as you can. We’ll handle the rest.»

She ran her hands over her face, her skin damp with sweat, her back burning beneath the weight of the males’ eyes. She knew that if she wanted this to end, she would have to recount every detail —everything she knew —without holding back.

She turned fully, forcing herself to focus only on Azriel, eyes locked on his, while keeping her back to the High Lord and the General. Slowly, she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing the skin beneath.

Two deep grooves marked her shoulder blades —scars from when she had wings as a child. The rest of her back was covered in newer wounds: deep cuts that had been poorly tended due to their location, scars that had healed badly, some still tinged with signs of infection.

Rhysand and Cassian stepped closer to get a better look, but Azriel shot them a warning glare that left no room for argument: they were to stay back.

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Once she pulled her shirt back down, the woman began to speak, explaining which places to investigate and naming all the women she knew for certain had endured the same abuse —at the hands of fathers, brothers, or husbands.

«Thank you. It won’t happen again —to you, or to anyone else.» Said Rhysand. His voice, though firm, carried a flicker of hope. Then he turned and walked out, the General following close behind.

Her gaze remained fixed on Azriel, who hadn’t moved. She couldn’t believe he had rolled up his sleeves to help her. A mixture of repressed emotions, frustration, and disbelief surged inside her —and the Spymaster sensed it immediately.

«Let’s go. Did you really think I’d let my mate go through all of this without doing anything?» His voice was deep. «He’s fucking lucky I couldn’t rip his throat right away.»

«Yes.» She replied with a shrug. «Because that’s what you should expect from people if you don’t want to be disappointed: nothing.»

Azriel took a step toward her, frustration tightening his features. «So you already knew.» He murmured, his tone laced with barely contained rage. There was no need to elaborate. «You couldn’t even have the decency to reject me to my face?» His growl echoed through the room, a sound that seemed to erupt from deep within him. «No, it was easier to walk away without saying a word, wasn’t it?»

He slammed his fist on the table, making the whole house tremble for a moment —then silence fell. A silence so thick, so tense, it felt like a single word could trigger another explosion.

Y/n felt as if a current of pain and anger had surged through her. Azriel was the best thing that had ever happened to her —how could she allow him to suffer like this? How could she ever be enough for a male like him?

«I don’t want to reject you.» She whispered, lowering her gaze to the wooden floor that creaked beneath their weight. «You see me for who I am: I never listen, I’m not sweet, and I don’t even know what it means to make someone feel loved. How could I possibly be good enough for you? When I care about something, I keep it at arm’s length, because that way no one can take it from me without warning. It’s always been this way.»

She bit her lip, suddenly feeling small and fragile beneath the weight of her own words. «I know it’s pathetic, but I thought that if I left, no one could rip this thing I love so much away from me...» She lifted her eyes slightly, meeting his with a sadness she had never shown before. «Not even you.»

Azriel couldn’t take the distance any longer. In two heartbeats, he was in front of her, cradling her face in his scarred, calloused hands. He didn’t wait another second to kiss her.

The moment their lips met, she let go of every wall she’d ever built, allowing him to feel everything —every emotion, every sensation —as if the distance between them had shattered in an instant.

Azriel moved one hand from her face, trailing down her shoulder to the tattoo on her hip, pulling her closer. His tongue tangled with hers, and the pleasure that surged through him crashed like a wave. He felt her respond, giving herself over to him completely, and in that surrender was a silent promise: there was no more need to run.

«I don’t want you to be sweet, or gentle. I don’t want you to cater to me or to always listen. I don’t care if you drive me crazy every single day for the rest of our fucking life. I just want you to give me the chance to prove you deserve to be loved.»

She stepped forward, just enough to rest against his chest and wrap her arms around him, clutching his shirt. She trembled slightly, and Azriel ran his hand along her back, lifting her into a warm embrace before gently setting her down on the table.

«I’ll love the woman you are when you’re barking orders during training. The one who never stays down, even when she’s been knocked to the ground. The one who sometimes wants to be protected, who needs something soft to land on when she can’t be strong for a day.»

Her fingers brushed his, intertwining with a soft, delicate motion. «And what if… What if I can’t love you the way I should? The way you deserve, the way you want. What if one day I run again?»

Azriel felt his heart warm in a way it never had before. That woman —his woman— was worried she couldn’t give him the love he had always longed for, always yearned for. And yet, in the exact moment those words left her lips, Azriel no longer had any doubts: she was the missing part of his soul.

«Then I’ll find you. And I’ll keep running with you.» Azriel whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur as the woman peppered his cheek with soft kisses, showing him affection in the most tender of ways.

The heat of that moment, the depth of her touch, pushed him to kiss her again —with a confidence and familiarity he hadn’t thought possible. He placed his hands on her back, pulling her closer, caressing her gently.

He pulled back just slightly, resting his forehead against hers. She slipped her hands into his dark hair, a gesture that felt almost too natural.

«I think I… uhm —it’s breakfast time, right?» Blushing as she searched Azriel’s eyes.

«Yes.» His voice was soft but steady as he watched her slid off the table.

She walked over to a cabinet and grabbed the jam, spreading it over a slice of buttered bread. Then she slid the plate toward him, under Azriel’s unwavering gaze.

They ate in silence, finishing the bread in a few bites, while Azriel’s eyes never left her. As soon as she was done, she came closer to him again. Azriel welcomed her into his arms, lifting her easily and letting her wrap her legs around his waist. He walked them over to an armchair and sat down, holding her tightly.

They stayed like that for hours, trading the occasional words, a kiss here and there. The woman was curled against him and soon fell asleep —deeply and peacefully. Probably for the first time in a long while.

Feeling the quiet calm on the bond between them, Azriel kept stroking her hair, finally letting himself relax too. He just wanted her to feel safe.

When Rhysand and Cassian returned, the sun was already painting the sky in warm shades of orange. And for the first time, in complete silence, they paused to take in the sight.

Their brother —peaceful, asleep, his face serene— held Y/n in his arms as if she might disappear if he loosened his grip. She was nearly swallowed in his embrace. It was the image of a peace no one had ever imagined surrounding Azriel… and yet, it seemed it was finally his.

── .✦

Hi!!!! Here I am again! Sorry, been a while but i’ve been busyyy. (Unfortunately)

As always, please let me know what do you think!!!!

[lovelybucky1]

omigosh…frank on call with reader after she sent the pics to him while dad!matt is making her apologize and teasing her 😖😖😖

part two to this post

you're on your back with your knees spread, one hand holding the phone up to your ear and the other twisted in matt's hair. as punishment for sending a nude picture to frank behind matt's back, he's been between your legs for what feels like hours, teasing you. in addition to your physical torture, he's also humiliating you in front of frank.

frank picks up the phone on the second ring and, as always, he's worried something bad happened to you.

"hey, baby, are you okay? something wrong?" he asks.

"i-i'm sorry, frank," you whine into the phone as matt laves his tongue over your already-sensitive clit.

"what're you sorry for, dollface?" the concern evident in his voice.

"for sending you pictures," you explain.

instead of providing comfort, frank laughs into the phone. at that, you can feel matt smirk against your pussy. there's no need to put the phone on speaker; matt is able to hear both sides of the conversation clearly. if anything, that serves to make this situation even more humiliating, knowing that this is entirely between you and frank, with matt just being a spectator.

"ah," he says. "are you in trouble?"

"uhhuh."

"what's he doin' to you, huh? spanking that pretty ass raw?" the image of that alone is enough to make you squirm.

"no, h-he's edging me. with his mouth."

"that's brutal, red," frank says, now talking directly to matt. "all this over a little picture?" matt doesn't respond, but frank can hear a faint possessive growl come through the phone. "you never let her have any fun."

at that, matt sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and you yelp in pain.

"he bit me," you whine.

"you poor thing," frank coos. "dad's a real asshole, ain't he?"

you know better than to respond. instead, you pull on matt's hair, trying to urge him to give you more, but he won't. matt is far too stubborn for you to be able to convince him out of punishing you. instead, he pulls away just slightly so his breath is fanning over your aching pussy.

"you better keep apologizing, sweetheart," he says.

"'m sorry, daddy," you say into the phone. the look on matt's face tells you he wants more, so you continue. "sorry for... being a slut and sending you pictures."

you're parroting the words matt said to you when he first laid you down on the bed and pushed his hand into your lounge shorts.

"such a slut, sending frank pictures when i already take such good care of you. am i not giving you enough attention, is that it? awh, my little attention whore."

"i wanted the attention," you tell frank.

"you know i'll always give you attention, dollface. all those times red's been workin' late with all that lawyer bullshit, i've always been here for you." a crease forms between matt's eyebrows. "like when he wouldn't let you cum for a week and you had to call me to help you out."

both you and matt freeze. matt didn't know about that and you certainly never intended on telling him, but now the cat's out of the bag.

"frank-"

"your poor little pussy was so neglected I could'a sworn she was never gonna stop gushing," he continues.

matt latches his mouth back on your clit and this time, he sucks even harder than before. it might have felt good if you weren't so sensitive, but it's such a raw pain you can't escape from. you squirm, trying to get away, but he holds onto your hips to keep you still.

"frank, stop," you gasp. "stop, stop."

"what's the matter?" you can't form the words to explain as matt continues his assualt. "you don't wanna hear about how i left red my sloppy seconds while he was out patrolling?" now, franks words have a teasing lilt to them. he knows what he's doing.

"stop," you beg.

with a wet pop, matt releases your clit from his lips. "no, frank," he says, voice gruff from lack of use. "keep going. seems like there's a lot more to punish her for than i thought."

"please don't," you whimper. you're not sure if it's directed at matt, pleading with him to stop torturing you, or to frank, telling him to stop exposing all of your little secrets.

"i told you before, sugar, you get yourself in trouble," frank chuckles. "but i think you better start apologizing to dad, now."

[alfascorpiionux]

Astro notes ~1

Hope you’ll enjoy it~💛

Aries people with Moon in Libra/Virgo can be extremely petty and tend to get jealous easily (this applies to friendships as well). They are very loyal though, and some of the most active, hardworking people you’ll come across.

Libra people are some of the friendliest you can find and are known for their good taste and usually good social skills.

Libra with Moon in Pisces has lots of crushes and falls in love easily (but more times than not with the wrong people, much to their dismay). Is sensitive, undecisive. Can be both giving and selfish at the same time. Needs plenty of time by himself/herself to recharge and get detached from others’ feelings, problems.

Moon in Sagittarius: I cannot emphasise this enough: we absolutely loath showing weakness especially when in a group setting and always want to view the world with the “glass half-full” mentality. The unevolved energies of this placement might have commitment issues beacuse we tend to live life based on principles and have quite high standards when it comes to the people we let it. So when our view of the “perfect” you is shattered it can be quite heartbreaking and we may distance ourselves to study you further or try to forget the hurt you caused us. There is a certain grade of naivety, childlike wonder to this placement which can be infectious to other people. You can make somebody’s day brighter with your words and attitude. You also probably have a very strong moral compass, a philosophical outlook on life and are quite friendly.

The lower energies of this placement predispose to anger (which is expressed differently depending on the house your Moon is placed in; typically it’s more concealed, especially in the beginning), short temper, commitment issues, forgetfulness.

Aries Venus in 12th house: oscillating between shyness and boldness, this native is a mix of curious qualities: fiery passion and flirty banter coupled with increased sensitivity to the needs of his/her partner. Creative, generous, dynamic, there is no dull moment with this native around.

He/She will know how to get to the deepest corners of your soul. He/She is looking for something real, something raw and authentic in you. May not like what he/she finds but wants it nonetheless beacuse it’ll be something special the both of you share.

The lower energies of this placement predispose to escapism, low self confidence, compulsions and difficulties in the dating scene (might start dating late, choose wrong partners or not have strong enough boundaries in relationships).

The higher energies manifest in beautiful, almost self-sacrificing ways: increased generosity and sensitivity to other people, especially children and the elderly, maybe animals too. A certain dreaminess in the way you act, express yourself.

When it comes to making love, you are literal FIRE once you open up and feel ready with the right person. You don’t shy away from new positions, are experimental and might even pull out some sexy lingerie from your drawer (lingerie that nobody else may know about or s*x toys - your secret is safe with me!). Fetishes could be possible but you may not even admit them yourself. 12th house placement could suggest secret love affairs or a special taste for something forbidden. Very careful that you don’t put yourself in situations that disregard your value as a person. Self reflection and journaling could be especially helpful with this position!

Leo Rising: are cool, stylish, proud and regal. Whenever they enter a room you’ll feel a warm and encompassing aura. People notice it and will tend to gravitate towards this native, for good or for worse. Whenever Leo is present, especially in the personal planets, you can expect a certain level of drama and stubbornness. If it’s the ascendant that is in the sign on Leo, the native will have a solid self-confidence, will typically carry herself with much pride and may even be quarrelsome at times. “The queen stands no disrespect” could be their motto. At low expression, Leo rising may continually deny it when they have a problem or refuse to talk about it (mostly out of stubbornness and because they prefer to lick their own wounds and hide them from other people).

Taurus Sun with Cancer Moon: some of the warmest, kindest and most loyal friends you could possibly find. They know the value of the given word, will show up to appointments and will take your secrets to the grave. You can vent to this natives about your problems because they will listen and not be judgmental and will even offer a shoulder for you to cry on.

They are shy at first, especially around strangers but will know to speak up when the situation calls for it. It is perhaps not known about them just how tough they can be. Yes, they may cry easily but will always stand up and move forward. When you annoy they will not only acknowledge it but will also confront you about it. They might not tell you right away that they have a lover for example, even when you are close friends. You ask them why, it’s because “you never asked me yourself”. Truthfully it’s because they value personal relationships and privacy so much. They will not gossip just because they can. And some feelings cannot be simply put to words, they should and could only be shared between the two lovers.

The only low manifestation I see is that they can at times have a very one-track mind, especially if they find an activity they really like. You will ask them 5 times in the span of 2 weeks what they are doing, at different times of day, and they will say “I am dancing” or “I am going riding”. Get the picture?

Gemini with Cancer placements: it can go very different ways, but it will usually lead to a person being very social and having lots of friends and/or lovers. It can lead to “drama queen” behaviour but not always. Native is an emotional kind of speaker and can find common ground with almost anybody. He/She is probably very smart and intuitive. The type of person that will get all the good grades without learning much and will impress almost anybody they meet because of their charm and social skills. He/She could, however, be quite flighty and/or chaotic in everyday life.

When I say the expression of the Moon sign very much depends on the Sun sign, I am not kidding. For example, in case of the Taurus native, the Moon in Cancer amplified his/her “motherlike, feminine” qualities. The two signs felt like they complemented each other. The end result felt harmonious and well-rounded. In the case of the Gemini native, however, it leads to a certain amount of friction, particularly because the signs of Cancer and Gemini have very different manners of relating to life. You can look up the aspects if you want to find out more (I am by no means a professional astrologer only an enthusiast 😆).

At low manifestations it could lead to emotional manipulation, drama queen behaviour, a special taste for quarrelling.

BONUS:

Lilith in the first house: this is not talked about nearly enough - self esteem issues! Lilith being in the house of the self brings a particular type of emotional dilemma, the dilemma of “who am I”. I know it sounds strange, but hear me out. I am sure you’ve already read many other posts that highlight the good qualities of Lilith, until you’ve reached my post, so I will only mention a few: charisma, sex appeal and a mysterious, somewhat rebellious air. It is also said that the native, due to his/her particular kind of aura, will invite partners who will try to tame him/her. I don’t know how true that is, and it is not yet the moment we debate this subject. Perhaps in a future post .

We will talk about the young and naive Lilith who is thrust in this wilderness we call life. She doesn’t know who she is, what she wants and can or cannot do so she stagnates. She observes life and at first tries to be a good girl, always pleasant and accommodating. At first she wants to fit in badly, she want the recognition of others and will do almost anything for it. She needs it like the air she breaths. However, something always happens and her plan never works. Or rather it does, but the price to pay will be exorbitantly high: her whole individuality, her authenticity. But does young Lilith know what’s laying dormant inside her? Being so oblivious of her own authenticity and power, she has nearly lost it completely. She has given in up for someone and now she feels bitter and angry. She has come to a realization. She cannot stand X trait in people(example: dishonesty). Okay, so that means I must be a super honest person or at least value it greatly. Moving on - what’s about loyalty? I think I know something but really am just scratching the surface. Such is the journey of Lilith. A journey of continual self-discovery. It starts with a young, very unsure hero who perhaps is also very naive only to later turn into a determined, empowered, self assured person who will always follow her own path, no matter what other say or do. They will be missteps and perhaps even a few fractures on this journey but it is one only you can embark on in pursuit of the Holy Grail, if you may. At the end of the day, you may realise it has always been inside yourself, hidden, awaiting to be rediscovered and embraced.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post and if you feel you resonate with my writing please leave a comment below and let me know. Would love to chat with you guys.💕

[ticifics]

When the Stars Fade

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: Remus knew—felt—that something was wrong. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the full moon. It was as if the air was heavy, carrying the weight of bitter promises.

Warnings: dad!remus, mom!reader, est. relationship, no use of y/n, no use of a baby name, angst, no war au, sensitive content, mention of death, suicide, (according to dear @lupinzlover) major/massively giant hurt&comfort- in which remus loses everything

A/N: my dear lovely @boromoony, I know it took a while to fulfill your request (and reading it broke my heart a little) but I hope you can enjoy it <33 and I think we'll need some comfort later?

Remus knew—felt—that something was wrong. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the full moon. It was as if the air was heavy, carrying the weight of bitter promises. You had tried to reassure him, a tender smile on your lips as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You’re just tired, love,” you said, your voice so calm it was hard to think otherwise. “Just rest, alright?”

“But—”

“Remus,” you gently chided, brushing away a stubborn strand of hair that insisted on falling over his eyes. Silver strands had begun to weave their way through the brown. “We’ll be back before you even notice. I promise.”

He wanted to protest—there were a thousand and one ways to argue—but he wanted to believe you. So he only nodded, feeling a small smile tug at his lips when you leaned in, kissing him softly, as if afraid to worsen the damage left by the last transformation.

“Just… don’t take too long, please,” he murmured against your lips.

“I won’t,” you promised, a bright smile on your lips as you pulled away.

Remus watched as you crouched beside the little one, your eyes softening when they met his over her small shoulder. The morning was quiet, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the soft giggles of the little girl, who was still playing with the hem of your coat.

“Shall we say goodbye to Daddy?” you asked gently, encouraging her with a warm smile.

She hesitated, clutching the stuffed toy in her hands—a small fabric wolf, its fur already worn from countless nights spent embraced in sleep. “Daddy’s sick?” she asked, her voice carrying the kind of innocent concern that only someone so small and blissfully unaware of the world’s horrors could have.

Remus swallowed hard, his heart clenching in his chest. He forced himself to smile, even as pain pulsed through every nerve in his body. “Daddy’s just tired, sweetheart,” he reassured her, his voice rough but warm, like a thick blanket on a cold night. “But I’ll be alright, I promise.”

She seemed to consider his words, her eyes—so much like his—studying him with a seriousness far beyond her age. Then, as if deciding he was telling the truth, she wiggled free from your grasp and ran toward the bed, stretching out her tiny arms.

“Kisses make everything better, Daddy,” she announced with conviction, pushing herself up on the mattress to reach his face.

Remus let out a quiet chuckle, the pain momentarily forgotten as he leaned in just enough for her to press a loud, exaggerated kiss to his cheek. “I think I’m already starting to feel better,” he admitted, with a sincerity that made your heart melt.

You stepped closer, lifting the little one into your arms, smoothing her unruly curls as you smiled at Remus. “Now it’s my turn,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes. Before he could respond, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both soft and full of unspoken promises. He melted into you, aching body and all, as if that simple touch could erase the last few days of torment.

When you pulled away, it was only enough to rest your forehead against his. “Take care of yourself while we’re gone, okay? No pushing yourself past your limits.”

He sighed, exhaustion evident, but still managed to say, “I promise.” And though there was resignation in his voice, there was also a quiet trust, as if he truly wanted to believe everything would be alright.

You set the little one back down and began leading her toward the door, but not before casting one last glance at him—full of a tenderness that wrapped around him like warmth on a winter morning. She waved enthusiastically, her curls bouncing as she called out, “Bye, Daddy! We’ll be back really soon!”

“Bye, my little one,” he replied, watching as she disappeared down the hall, followed by you.

When the sound of the door closing echoed through the house, silence settled once more. Remus let his body sink into the pillows, his eyes slipping shut. He could still catch the lingering scent in the air—yours, mixed with the faint lavender that always clung to his daughter.

He turned his head to the side, resting it against the pillow’s softness. He knew he should get up, maybe make some tea or at least check if anything needed tending to, but the mere thought of moving even a finger felt unbearable. The exhaustion wasn’t just physical; it was something that had settled deep in his bones, a weariness that no amount of sleep or rest ever seemed to truly mend.

“It’s alright,” he whispered into the empty room, as if the words themselves could chase away the unease gnawing at his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to focus on anything other than the unsettling feeling that something was off. But exhaustion was stronger than worry. His body no longer gave him a choice, and he felt himself slipping further away.

The world around him faded, distant and blurred, the only thing lingering in his mind being the soft scent in the air.

Remus never noticed the exact moment he fell asleep.

There was no transition—just a slow, quiet fading, like a candle burning down to its final flicker.

And then, his body surrendered to the pull of sleep.

Remus woke with a jolt. A sharp, insistent sound echoed through the house, reverberating against the walls in a rhythm that seemed to match the frantic beating of his heart. He blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness filling the room. What had once been the warm glow of morning had now turned into deep, heavy shadows.

The first thing he felt was pain. Not a simple ache, but something deep, visceral. Every muscle, every bone in his body throbbed with the painful memory of the transformation. His fingers trembled as he brought them to his forehead, trying to ease the pressure building there. His chest burned, as if something unseen was pressing down on him with relentless force. He took a deep breath—or at least tried to—but the air felt thick, too heavy to fill his lungs.

The knocking continued, louder now, as if demanding his attention. He tried to sit up, but the movement sent a sharp pain straight to his ribs—a cruel reminder of the violence he inflicted upon himself every month. The pain made him choke on a low groan, but he ignored it, focusing on the sound that had woken him. Something was wrong. He could feel it in the air, like an invisible current buzzing around him. The weight in his chest, which had once felt like nothing more than lingering worry, was now suffocating.

With difficulty, he forced himself to his feet, every step a battle against exhaustion and pain. The house was silent, save for the persistent knocking. He passed through the living room, where his daughter's toys were still scattered across the floor, just as she had left them. The sight made something inside him tighten. You always complained about the mess, but now… now it felt untouched, as if moving anything would break something far more fragile than just the order of the house.

When he finally reached the door, he hesitated. A part of him didn’t want to open it. A part of him knew that whatever was on the other side would not be good. Still, with trembling hands, he turned the doorknob.

The man standing outside was unfamiliar. Tall, severe-looking, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. The Ministry badge hung from the pocket of his jacket, a silent reminder of his authority. He looked uneasy, as if the words he was about to speak already weighed on him before they had even been said.

"Mr. Lupin?" The man’s voice was low but firm, carrying something Remus couldn’t quite identify yet.

"Yes," he answered, his voice rough with exhaustion and confusion. "What’s going on?"

"I… it’s a sensitive matter. May I come in?" the man asked, glancing briefly at the surroundings as if assessing the place.

"No," Remus answered almost immediately, his chest tightening further. He gripped the doorframe, his knuckles turning white. "Just tell me what happened."

The official hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the refusal, but something in Remus’s eyes made him continue. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if he needed to brace himself for the impact of his own words.

"Mr. Lupin… there was an accident. Your wife and daughter were involved." He paused, but continued before Remus could process it. "Unfortunately… neither of them survived."

For a moment, the world stopped. The words echoed in his mind, repeating in a cruel loop, like a broken record. He blinked, once, twice, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. But the nightmare was real. He could see it in the man’s eyes, in the way he avoided direct contact, in the tension that seemed to suffocate the air around them.

"No," Remus finally managed to say, his voice breaking. He took a step back, as if distance could undo what he had just heard. "No… you’re wrong. This can’t be right."

"Mr. Lupin," the official began, but Remus raised a hand, cutting him off.

"You’re wrong!" he shouted, his voice filled with a pain so raw it seemed to tear through the air. "They were fine! I saw them this morning! They were fine!"

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He knew, deep down, that something had been wrong. That he had felt it all day—that lingering feeling, that inexplicable weight.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees in the doorway, his hands gripping his hair so tightly it was as if he wanted to rip it out. He shook his head, muttering "no, no, no" over and over, as if the words could somehow undo what had been said.

The official took a hesitant step forward, but Remus stopped him with a look so utterly broken that the man froze in place.

"I should have gone with them," Remus whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "I should have protected them. This is my fault…"

And there, in the dim glow of his empty house, with the weight of those words still hanging in the air, Remus shattered. He didn’t just cry; he broke. Every sob was a strangled scream, every tear a piece of himself that he knew he would never get back.

Remus woke with a jolt, the sound of your voice calling his name shattering the suffocating veil of the nightmare. It was as if he were emerging from a deep, dark ocean, struggling to breathe, to understand where he was. The dim evening light filtered through the curtains, and he realized he was in bed, the sheets tangled around him, damp with sweat. But it was your voice—soft, worried, so incredibly real—that anchored him to reality.

"Remus? Love, are you okay?"

He turned quickly, eyes wide, still filled with a pain that seemed impossible to contain. There you were, kneeling beside the bed, your expression full of concern and tenderness, a gentle hand resting on his arm. Before any words could be spoken, before he could even process that it had all been just a nightmare, he reached for you, his arms wrapping around your waist with an almost desperate urgency.

"You're here," he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "You're here. You’re both here."

You barely had time to react before he buried his face in your shoulder, holding you with a force that seemed to want to merge you into one. That’s when you felt the warm dampness on your shirt—he was crying. His tears were silent but intense, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you as if afraid you might disappear.

"Remus," you murmured softly, your fingers threading through his hair in an instinctive, soothing gesture. "Hey, love, it's okay. We're here. I'm here. Everything's okay."

He shook his head against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you even more, as if trying to absorb your presence, your life. He seemed to be breathing you in—the familiar lavender scent in your hair, the warmth of your body—everything that proved you were real. That this wasn’t another cruel illusion.

"It was a nightmare," he finally managed to say, his voice barely audible. "Oh, Merlin, it was horrible. I thought… I thought I lost you."

Before you could respond, there was a small sound of footsteps in the hallway, followed by a sleepy, curious voice. "Daddy?"

The little one stood at the bedroom door, clutching one of her favorite stuffed toys against her chest. The moment he saw her, Remus let out a shaky breath, as if the crushing weight on his chest had suddenly lifted.

He reached out for her without letting go of you entirely. "Come here, my little one."

She ran to him in that clumsy, adorable way that only a child could, climbing onto the bed with your help. As soon as she reached her father, he pulled her into the embrace, holding both of you with a protective intensity that spoke louder than any words. He kissed her forehead several times, murmuring between kisses, "My little girl… my love… you're okay. You're here."

She blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes, clearly sensing the emotion in the air even if she didn’t fully understand it. "Daddy, are you crying?"

Remus laughed, a low, broken sound, but still filled with tenderness. "Yes, I am, my angel. But don’t worry, Daddy's okay now. You saved me."

"Saved you from what?" She tilted her head, wrapping her tiny arms around him.

"From myself," he answered softly, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. Then he looked at you, his eyes still glistening with tears, but now overflowing with a gratitude that was almost too much to hold. "And from a nightmare. A terrible nightmare."

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your fingers intertwining with his as you offered him a reassuring smile. "We're here, Remus. It was just a bad dream. We're okay, all of us. And we always will be."

He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face—the way your eyes shone, the soft curve of your lips. "I don’t know what I’d do without you." His voice was so raw, so vulnerable, it made your heart ache.

"You don’t have to think about that," you murmured, your other hand sliding over his face, wiping away any lingering tears. "Because you’ll never be without us."

The little one, now nestled between the two of you, decided to contribute, cupping Remus’s face in her small hands. "I take care of you, Daddy," she declared with the seriousness of someone who truly believed she could protect the whole world. "I'm strong."

Remus smiled, a tired but utterly loving smile. "I know you are, my angel. You're the strongest girl in the world."

The night carried on with the three of you together, curled up in bed like a cocoon of warmth against any darkness that the world might try to cast. Remus didn’t let go of you or his daughter for even a second, and the feeling of your warmth surrounding him was all he needed to keep the shadows at bay. The nightmare still echoed somewhere in the back of his mind, but now, wrapped in the love of his family, he knew he was safe. And he knew he’d never have to face anything alone.

Things should have happened like that, but the world is not made of fairy tales.

You didn’t come home that night, or any other night. Remus never heard the comforting sound of his daughter’s laughter again, never felt the warmth of your hands in his hair or the soft touch of tiny fingers holding his face with the same seriousness of someone who believed they could heal the world. There were no more mornings where the bed was warmed by the bodies he loved so much, no more nights where the weight of your presence beside him kept the darkness at bay. Everything had been ripped away so cruelly and abruptly, leaving behind an emptiness so devastating it seemed impossible to fill.

The days following the accident were a haze, each one more unbearable than the last. Remus didn’t remember the formalities—the words spoken by the Ministry officials on that fateful day, the empty condolences that felt so meaningless, the details of the accident that he barely managed to absorb. None of it mattered. Everything was a blur, except for the crushing certainty that you and your daughter were no longer there.

He was forced to face reality on the morning of the funeral. The coffin was too small, accompanied by another that, though larger, seemed just as wrong. He remembered standing there, paralyzed, as the earth was thrown over the caskets. The feeling of cold soil was almost tangible, as if each handful buried more than just the bodies—it buried his very soul along with them.

James, Sirius, and Peter were there. They stood beside him throughout the ceremony, their presence almost suffocating in their attempt to support their friend. James, his eyes red and glassy with unshed tears, tried to steady Remus when he wavered under the weight of it all. Sirius, always so loud and full of life, was silent, his face a mask of restrained grief as he stared at the caskets. And Peter, who never knew how to handle intense emotions, offered a trembling handshake and a look that overflowed with sadness he didn’t know how to express.

Despite their efforts, nothing they said or did seemed to reach Remus. Not James’s whispered reassurances, not Sirius’s hand on his shoulder, not Peter’s quiet solidarity. They tried, and he knew they tried, but the cruel truth was that no one could reach the abyss he was trapped in.

And then the house—the one you had turned into a home—became a mausoleum. The little girl’s toys were still scattered across the living room floor, her favorite blanket draped over the couch where she used to curl up with him. Your hairbrush remained in the bathroom, strands of your hair still woven into its bristles. Your clothes and hers still hung in the wardrobe, as if at any moment, you could walk through the door and undo this nightmare. But you didn’t. You never would.

James visited a few times, bringing food that Remus had no energy to eat, insisting on conversation. Sirius showed up, too, trying to cheer him up with stories from the past, desperate to coax a smile from him. Peter came once or twice, quiet as always, but his presence was a subtle reminder that they were still there for him. But none of it mattered. No words or gestures could fill the void you and your daughter had left behind.

The nights were the worst. The solitude was suffocating, and Remus would find himself sitting in the chair by the cold fireplace, staring at the portrait of you. A picture taken on a sunny day in the garden, your daughter on his lap while you sat beside him, laughing at something he could no longer remember. He spent hours looking at that image, desperately trying to anchor himself in the memories. But they weren’t enough. They could never replace the warmth of you, the sound of the voices he would never hear again.

He tried to move forward. For you. For James, Sirius, and Peter—for little Harry, who hadn’t even learned to speak yet—who kept showing up, who kept insisting that he wasn’t alone. But it was a lie. He was alone. Because without you and without her, the world was gray and empty, an existence he didn’t know how to endure.

And then, one morning, as the timid sun struggled to break through the gray clouds, he decided he couldn’t anymore. He sat on the bed—the same bed you once shared—and realized it no longer made sense. There was nothing left to fight for, no reason to stay. He was tired. So, so tired.

He left a single letter, written with trembling hands and a shattered heart. It wasn’t long, because there wasn’t much to say. Just one final confession of love, to you and to your daughter, and an apology for not being strong enough to go on without you.

When Remus’s body was found days later, he was surrounded by pictures of you both. The letter still lay beside the bed, the paper stained with tears. He looked peaceful, as if, for the first time in weeks, he had found some semblance of rest.

His grave was placed beside yours, just as he would have wanted. In the silent cemetery, three headstones stood side by side, marking what was once a family and what could have been. James, Sirius, and Peter were there the day he was buried. James was the last to leave, lingering beside his friend’s grave, his eyes glistening with tears he didn’t bother to hide.

On Remus’s headstone, only a simple inscription, yet one heavy with meaning:

Reunited with those he loved.

And so, the world lost another soul, drowned in a grief too heavy to bear.

[81pastrys]

Hey I have a Lando smut request if ur feeling up for it. Hear me out: Lando and guided masturbation. Reader and Lando had a small petty argument over smth and readers too stubborn to admit Landos right and Lando being Lando is also being stubborn (rightfully so in this case) but bc they're avoiding each other they're both becoming more needy and so one night reader tries to get herself off but it's not working cuz it's not the same as having Lando do the work and he catches her and basically refuses to help her out in any way except by guiding her (and mean Lando would defo be present here imo) and making her torture herself through his instructions and refusing to help her until she's done what he asked (and until she admits she's wrong). And some lighthearted aftercare at the end of all this filth 😭. Apologies for the long request hope u have a grt day

Guided Mastur Meditation

Summary— She finds herself ignoring Lando after a telemetry fight and can’t help herself trying to ease the sexual tension, but Lando interrupts and ‘helps’

Warnings— SMUT ; teasing ; guided masturbation ; fingering ; aftercare provided

A/N— uhm hello?! I LOVEEE this

Lando One Shot List

“You’re wrong, I saw the data Lando!” She argued, standing her ground in the argument. She was saying that Oscar had the upper hand and bottled it in the race, but Lando argued the opposite.

“No he didn’t, he may have had a better set up, but he didn’t have any upper hand.” Lando stayed calm, he understood the data a lot better than she did, even with her engineering degree. “They set up our cars how we ask them to, he always has a different advantage.”

“Lan, Oscar bottled it.” She calmed down now, not as upset. “Half the turns were over shot and the other half was alright, you barely overshot any!”

“Undershot, love, he undershot the turns.” Lando corrected. She groaned and walked off. He silently laughed to himself. He opened his computer and continued looking to the telemetry. He went over his and Oscar’s. Proving his point to be right.

For the next few days they slept facing away from each other, the stupid argument and their stubborn attitudes clashing. It was probably the longest they had gone without getting each other off and it weighed on them. Her especially, wanting an orgasm from his hands, his mouth, she got wet thinking of it.

She went to their bedroom and played on her phone before sparking the idea to get herself off. Lando was busy right? She searched her socials for a good fan fiction of Lando and put her hand down her skirt that she wore.

She read and slipped a few fingers under her panties, soaked with her arousal. Not that ignoring Lando turned her on, but his calm demeanor throughout it all does. Her fingers gathering the slick, making it easier to rub circles on her sensitive clit.

“He touched her with fervor as he slipped his fingers into her tight cunt” She followed the fan fiction to a T, although she was not gaining any satisfaction. His thick, rough fingers just felt so much better than her small, nimble ones. It wasn’t the same and she groaned at the relief she couldn’t get from her own hands.

Lando decided he was going to show her proof as to how she was wrong and walked into their shared bedroom, her hand pulling back quickly as she closed her phone and sat up. She didn’t think he noticed but the smirk on his face said otherwise.

“Does ignoring me make you aroused?” He asked with a seductive hint. Her face flushed with pinks and reds. “I was going to prove to you how wrong you were, but clearly you had other plans.”

She thought she would get the relief she wanted from him, but she was incorrect for thinking that. “I’m not wrong.” She mumbled, hoping for some sort of rough sex to assert his dominance in how he was right by fucking her dumb.

“You can say that you are right, but we both know you aren’t.” He said, still not making a move from the doorway with his arms crossed. “Go ahead, don’t let me interrupt you.” She looked to him nervously. “Make it easier for yourself, take those off.” He was getting hard thinking about how he could ruin her, or he can just tease and edge her by using his words. “I don’t plan on helping you much.”

She did as told and took off the skirt and panties, tossing them aside. She sat against the headboard, still no motions from Lando. He looked at her to continue and when she didn’t, only then did he move. Her breath hitched. He sat behind her and rubbed her arms while kissing her neck and face. The closest they had been since the argument.

“Touch yourself for me love, make yourself feel good yeah?” He whispered, his voice husky and deep. He watched as her hand moved back and rubbed small circles on her clit. “That’s it, how does that feel love?” He taunted.

She let out a quiet moan and moved with more aggressive circles. When he was satisfied with her small whines and moans he grabbed her hand and moved it down more, allowing two of her nimble fingers to slip in. “Please.” She moaned. He was teasing her with his words, she didn’t dare picking up speed.

“Curl your fingers for me, touch that sensitive spot you love.” He instructed. Her leg twitched when she did. He smiled and kissed her ear as he continued guiding her. “Move your fingers love, slowly, not too fast.” He watched as she listened, moving her hand at a snail like pace, in and out. The wet noises echoing in the quiet room.

He rubbed her thigh and the other moved her hair. “Lan..” She breathed, leaning back. Her head fell perfectly on his shoulder as her mouth hung open. She could feel his dick hard in his pants as she leaned back, slightly teasing him.

“Go faster, get yourself close.” He teased her still, knowing it takes her a long time to get herself to a climax. “Curl your fingers when you thrust them in, try to keep a steady pace love you’ve got it.” He praised. She felt a climax bubbling and he could sense it by the way she was squirming and the tone of her noises. He grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away.

“What? Lan.” She whined, kicking her feet down and straining her hand against his. He kissed at her neck and she relaxed at the slight pleasure he was providing. One hand intertwined with his fingers and the other in the hold of his by her wrist, dripping with her arousal. “I was so close please?”

He laughed into her neck and gave her one more kiss. “Am I right?” He asked. She whined and spat out that he was but he didn’t believe her. “No, no, I want to hear you say why I’m right.” Her legs continued to move as she tried prying one of her hands away.

“Oscar didn’t bottle shit, I’m sorry.” She whined at him. “Please Lan, let me finish.” Once her legs stopped moving and her breathing calmed, he let her hand go. “You edged me and I told you that you were right, please!!”

Her hand returned but she couldn’t get herself close again, his words stopping and replaced by kisses. “I need more of an explanation as to how I’m right, love.” He taunted her again. Her unsteady hand not getting her anywhere.

“Oscar didn’t have an upper hand, you did- fuck.” She moaned. He removed her hand again and before she could protest, he rubbed small, slow circles on her clit. She whimpered and held onto his arm with her slicked fingers.

“So wet, love.” He said, focusing on teasing her more. “We should argue more often, if it gets you this aroused.” Lando smiled at her state, head leaned back, mouth opened, legs lax against the bed, her hands both tensing at his hand or arm.

“You were right, please lan, don’t tease me again.” She said breathlessly at his slow movements. He finally listened and his fingers took over, doing as he told her earlier. Thrusting in and out, curling as they entered. Her breathing picked up and he felt her walls constricting against his fingers, a climax right on the brink.

“Close already?” He asked. “I shouldn’t let you finish, telling me I’m wrong and that my teammate had an upper hand on me?” He teased and she whined again. His fingers picked up their pace, the slick loud and wet on his hand. He moved their intertwined fingers across her stomach to hold her still while he finished her off.

“Oh my god, fuck lan!” She moaned. Her body crumbled at the orgasm like he had predicted, him following her movements forward to help her ride out the high and not leaving her to have a ruined orgasm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She strained.

“That’s it, such a good girl.” He praised, usuing his strength to lean her back against him. She closed her legs on his hand as his fingers worked her slowly now. She panted as he removed the torturous fingers. “How’s it feel to be wrong?” He teased her still.

Her mind was cloudy, not caring one bit about being wrong anymore. Her ears rang as he coaxed her through. “I want to be wrong more often.” She panted at him. He erupted in small giggles as she relaxed against him. He rubbed her thigh, letting her body have a break.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He moved from behind her, adjusting his own issue. He was going to deal with that later. For right now he was going to care for his girlfriend who he just gave a mind blowing orgasm. He returned with a damp towel to clean her up.

“You said you had proof that you were right?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. He shut her up quickly as he cleaned her up, still sensitive from the orgasm. “I said you were right!” She protested as he cleaned her up, longer than usual.

“I know, I just like seeing you squirm and tell me over and over how right I am.” He finished and kissed her lips.

They both looked at the telemetry and it sparked another fight, this time he fucked her dumb and she never disagreed with him on telemetry again.

This is a long one! Absolutely LOVE the request btw

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @kallanfiona @itznotsophia

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 07 | myg

part seven: old wounds

Summary: You really, really tried to ignore Yoongi. But once again, you failed.

<part six part eight>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff.

—words: 9.7k

—a/note: hi friends!! can't even begin to describe the amount of mental breakdowns i had writing this but here is it!! i doubted myself too many times before posting this one (still am), idk why it was so hard to finish but i'm glad it's here, i hope you enjoy and as always, you're welcomed to discuss this part in the asks!!

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present

It was such a mistake to even insinuate that the years that had passed had made you wiser, or that the hurt and heartbreak had made you stronger, more decisive, or less stubborn. If anything, you continued to make the same mistakes, you were ten times more sensitive and you had developed a level of stubbornness that was almost impossible to shake. You had spent years consumed by bitterness, only to learn nothing from it, and still, you wanted to trust yourself and stop doubting every decision you made, but it was hard considering you were the same person who led yourself here. 

A few days ago, when Minnie said she just wanted to show you a few ideas to help The Alley, what she really meant was that she had already mapped out a full schedule for you long before you even knew what was going on. You assumed she might want your help with organizing things—selling tickets on movie nights to show your face for a few seconds and draw in more people, painting a few walls, or changing some light bulbs—but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

As she turned the pages of her diary, you tried to make sense of every word she was saying, remaining silent as you patiently waited for her to finish so you could finally get a chance to speak. 

“You want me to direct the end-of-year play?” you asked, needing to confirm what she had just said. “In only three months?”

Your redhead friend slowly nodded, looking you straight in the eye as if she just hadn’t gone completely crazy. 

“That’s plenty of time.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You and I both know that’s not remotely—that’s not even half the time I would need.”

Minnie rolled her eyes and stood up, walking over to the large board behind her. It was a chaotic collage of crumpled pieces of paper, faded photographs, and yellowed old letters, all pinned in a disorganized frenzy that seemed to mirror the whirlwind of her thoughts. 

“Bullshit. You’re like… Broadway trained or something. You’re the only person who can pull it off.” 

You sit back against the chair, sighing. You wanted to help Minnie, not only because she was your best friend but because this was the place you grew up in. Yet, despite your best intentions, a wave of overwhelm crept in, making it hard to ignore. Deep down, or maybe not so deep down, you knew that the time wouldn’t be a problem, that directing was one of your secret passions and wouldn't be a burden at all, but the real problem was that you still didn’t feel prepared to show your face around.

Here was the catch: you couldn’t say no. You knew Minnie, you could make thousands of excuses and she would find a solution for each one of them, so you had two options: say yes right away, or say no until she finally made you say yes. 

“And it’s an original play, you say? Written by one of the kids?” You asked, already knowing which option would be easier. 

“Yes...” She replied softly. “You know, like the ones you used to write when you were a kid…”

You tried not to roll your eyes. Classic Minnie, guilt-tripping you until you had no choice but to agree. 

You chuckled bitterly, suddenly remembering that six months ago, you had told your therapist that you were asking for an opportunity like this—a chance to redeem yourself, something close to a miracle. Yet now, with it right in front of you, you were hesitant to take it. You had to suppress the urge to call her without notice to ask her opinion about everything. Agnes, who always seemed to be at the end of her patience with your self-sabotaging tendencies, would be sitting in her office back in the city, she would pick up your call and tell you that this could be the perfect chance to reconnect—not only with your hometown and your friends but with your old self as well. She would say this was exactly why you had decided to come back home, and you would’ve hated hearing it. You would’ve hated admitting she might be right.

You straightened up, trying to look serious. “Let me read it first,” you said. “Then we can talk about it.” 

“Mmmm… I have a better proposition.” She argued, “You read it and start tomorrow.” 

“You’re kidding,” You replied, incredulous.

She clapped her hands, sealing the deal with a finality that made it clear she wasn’t joking. “Of course I’m not. We can’t afford to waste time,” she said matter-of-factly. “We need to call the kids, arrange the theater—which, by the way, is under maintenance, but that won’t be an issue. The lights will be fixed by morning, and you can start in the afternoon. And oh, you’ll need to…”

“Minnie!” You yelled, making her stop abruptly “Stop talking and give me a second, Christ…” 

Your friend nodded, a bit embarrassed of her sudden excitement. She sat back in her chair, quietly observing you as you tried to make up a plan in your head. 

“Okay, I’ll read the play tonight, and tomorrow morning I would need to talk with the person who wrote it. Then, we’ll see if we start in the afternoon.” You stated. She nodded in contentment, but you knew she was holding back.  “C’mon, don’t look at me like that…”

“Like what?” She huffed. 

“Like a lost puppy.” You rolled your eyes “I said I will help, right?” 

“You said that, yes…” She trailed off “But I don’t want you to just help, you know? If it’s not too much to ask, I would like you to put your heart to it.” 

You chuckled, knowing that she meant every word. “I know that.” 

“Well, I hope you do.” She sighed “These kids… they were so disappointed when they found out we couldn’t pay the last teacher anymore. It’s not just about the play, it’s about everything, this place is like a second home. Hell, for most of them it’s like the first one… I just want to make it count.” 

Minnie looked at you like she could read every thought in your mind. 

“I know.” You said, feeling like a fourteen year old all over again “I understand.” 

“I know you do.” She nodded, smiling with her eyes. “Of course you do.”

You couldn’t fully believe in fate. Or in irony, or the universe having some big plan, and yet when you finished reading the script for the play you thought it was written just to fuck with you. 

The play was about some girl, June, growing up in The Alley as she tried to find herself. That was the story, that was the big dramatic theme of the play you somehow agreed to direct. How groundbreaking, how deeply, earth-shattering not cliché. And still, something about it got under your skin. Not exactly in a bad way, it felt… familiar. The kind of familiarity that made you shift in your seat, like when someone says something uncomfortably true about you, but you couldn’t argue because they were right. 

The whole who am I, where do I belong thing—hasn’t that been done a million times before? Haven’t you seen it, loved it, run away from it? Maybe that’s why it bothered you. Because it was too easy to see yourself in it.

Not that you’d admit that.

That Saturday morning you were meeting Harriet, the writer of the play that gave you nightmares last night, to discuss the script, offer a few pointers, and try to organize the first rehearsal. You exhaled sharply, it was just a play, nothing more. You tried not to overthink it, but Minnie thought otherwise. 

“So?” Minnie asked as she organized her bag. You looked up to her from your coffee, sitting at the end of her table. “Did you like the play?”

You shrugged, with eyes barely open.  “It’s good.” 

Minnie narrowed her eyes, sitting next to you. “Good?” She snorted, “C’mon, you liked it.”

“Sure, I liked it,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. “The dialogue’s good, the pacing is solid. It’s relatable, I guess.”

“Mhm…” Minnie drummed her fingers lightly against the edge of the table. She was quiet for a beat, clearly waiting for you to say more. When you didn’t, she tilted her head, smirking like she knew exactly where this was going. “You don’t see it, then?”

You raised an eyebrow. “See what?”

“Yourself?”

God. Of course.

Here we go again. You should’ve known better than to think you’d get through a full conversation without her dragging you into some self-reflection trap.

You let out a soft scoff, lowering your cup. “What do you mean?”

“You do see it.” Minnie grinned, all too satisfied. “It’s like a therapy session in script format.”

You rolled your eyes.  “An angsty teenager who’s angry at the world, fighting her way into adulthood? Isn’t that the story of every single kid in that place?” You said, recalling the script—though you refused to admit it sounded a little too familiar.

“No, not like this,” she insisted. “It’s different. It reminded me of you.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “You always say that.”

“Because every time I say it, it’s true,” she replied, unbothered. “You know I know you like the back of my hand, right? Inside and out. You can’t hide anything from me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Well, I know you too—and right now, I know you’re being very, very annoying.”

Minnie rolled her eyes so dramatically it made you laugh.

“You really don’t see it?” she asked again, gentler this time.

You looked away, pretending to be way too interested in the last sip of your coffee. “I see a lot of things,” you said, vaguely.

She let out a quiet breath through her nose, like she wanted to keep poking but decided against it.

“Fine.” She sighed, finally letting it go—for now—as she stood up and grabbed her empty mug. “You’re meeting Harriet today, right?”

You nodded.

“Don’t be mean to her.”

“I’m never mean.”

“You terrify people.”

“Only the weak,” you replied, standing as well. “And if she’s anything like me, she’ll be fine.”

The hallway to the main theater was dim, almost dark. Anyone walking in for the first time might assume it was just another maintenance issue—one of the many The Alley was always plagued with—but you knew better. It had always been like this. The lights flickered sometimes, the floor creaked in all the right places, and the smell of paint never really left the walls. 

Cork boards lined the walls, cluttered with wrinkled flyers and announcements for local events. Above them, big framed photos of past theater productions hung in no particular order—some crooked, most dusty. No one ever fixed them, but they had their charm.

The place was still quiet and empty, almost peaceful. Only your footsteps echoed softly as you walked, your script folded under one arm. Minnie was beside you, phone in one hand, her second coffee of the day in the other, talking nonstop about everything she had to deal with before noon.

“…and we’re out of paper towels again, and someone stole the good extension cord, so now I’m down to that weird one from the lost and found that sparks if you look at it wrong. Also, we’re probably getting fined if we don’t fix the exit sign by Friday, and—”

You let her talk. It helped you focus. Or, at least, pretend you were focusing.

Minnie knew you like no other person, but still couldn’t remember one core fact of your existence: you were not, by any stretch of the imagination, a morning person. 

And today, it turned out, that wasn’t the only thing she forgot.

You were just approaching the theater doors, head slightly bowed, mentally rehearsing the day ahead, when you heard it.

A low laugh, soft and achingly familiar. 

You turned your head slowly, as if giving yourself time to be wrong. But of course you weren’t.

Because somehow, Minnie forgot to tell you that the person handling repairs today was none other than Yoongi.

Your eyes moved on instinct. You didn’t mean to look—you just did. And there he was.

The man in question was perched on a ladder, with his sleeves rolled up and a screwdriver in hand fixing a reflector, while a tall boy held it steady, laughing as he jokingly threatened to shake it. A flicker of irritation sparked in your chest. Of course he was the one handling the repairs, of course Minnie casually forgot to mention that to you.

You turned around to shoot your friend a threatening look, but she just pushed you forward, forcing you to keep walking.

You made your way towards the center of the room, trying not to pay attention to the scene, but as the sounds of your steps filled the room. You didn’t have to look to know both of them had stopped laughing. You didn’t have to guess to feel their eyes following you across the stage like the past itself had stepped into the room and sat down beside them.

“Good morning guys.” Minnie said, dropping her bags on one of the seats. “My friend right here is going to help us with the play this morning. I think you know her, Jungkook?”

You turned around just in time to see the boy abandon the ladder and bolt towards you at full speed, while Yoongi, left stranded at the top, clung to it, visibly irritated. 

He murmured something under his breath, too quiet to catch, but your attention had already shifted to Jungkook, who was practically vibrating with excitement as he extended a tattooed hand toward you.

“Oh—yeah, of course! Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He blurted, voice a little too eager.

You couldn’t help but smile as you shook his hand.

“Jungkook is a big fan, by the way,” Minnie added casually, completely unfazed by the way his face turned an alarming shade of red.

“Well, thanks. Pleased to meet you, too,” you said, amused. “Are you fixing the stage lights today, Jungkook?”

Jungkook froze for a second, his eyes widening slightly—stunned that you knew his name, as if he hadn’t just heard Minnie say it two seconds ago.

“Well—not me,” he managed to stammer. “I mean—yes! Me. And… Yoongi. He’s, uh, kind of the boss around here.”

Your smile didn’t drop, but you raised your eyebrows in surprise. You glance towards the ladder again, watching Yoongi descend like he had all the time in the world. You looked at him, and for the shortest of seconds, he looked at you too. 

“Is he?” You asked, turning to your friend for some kind of explanation. 

Minnie shook her head, don’t start, she wanted to say, but it was too late. You’ve already started.

“Just the boss of him, maybe.” appearing beside Jungkook and giving him a pat on the back maybe a little too hard.

Something burned inside your chest, but you were not supposed to be mad anymore. You were not supposed to be angry, you were supposed to be a functioning adult, a mature person who was able to let things go and act accordingly, but without fail, every time you were in front of him you felt like a kid throwing a tantrum all over again. 

“I must’ve been gone for too long.” You said, nonchalantly. “I didn’t know you were the one calling the shots now.” 

It was encrypted in your code, you weren’t used to biting your tongue, it was stronger than you. You told yourself you didn’t want anything to do with Yoongi, but you still desperately needed to know what was he doing here, what was that tied him to this place when he didn’t even know its name a few years ago. 

The room suddenly fell silent and you knew it was your fault but you couldn’t find the will to regret it. 

He locked eyes with you, there was a hard weight on his gaze, but it gave nothing away, like a locked door with no key, totally indecipherable. 

“I’m not.” He simply said. If what you wanted was an explanation, you weren’t going to get it. “I’m just helping around.” His words hung in the air for a moment, met with a brief silence. 

Minnie cleared her throat, interrupting the hostile staring competition you and Yoongi were having. “Yoongi and Jungkook are helping with the stage lights, but they are missing a few guys today.” She carefully mentioned, her eyes going from Yoongi to you and back. “So they are going to take more time than usual.”

“I can work in the other room, if you’d like.” You offered, looking at Jungkook. 

“No!” Jungkook was quick to say “That won’t be necessary, I mean—we won’t be a problem at all.”

“Really?” You said “I mean, I could. What would the boss say?” 

Yoongi turned to you then, and you could tell he knew exactly what you were doing. The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smirk, not quite a frown, just the ghost of something caught between amusement and exasperation. 

He exhaled quietly, like he was reminding himself not to be annoyed, because it was you. “You know it’s okay.” He said, his voice smooth, but you caught the tiniest flicker in his eyes, that slight tension in his shoulders. 

After all these years, that connection between you still remained, woven into the spaces between words, into the way you could read each other with nothing but a glance. You could still have silent conversation in crowded rooms just by looking at each other, it was not a surprise, but it pissed you off anyway.

“Let’s get to work, then,” You muttered, sharper than intended. You didn’t look at him, but you knew he’d heard everything you didn’t say.

Last week you wouldn’t have expected to end up right here, in the middle of the stage of The Alley as you were waiting for some sixteen year old to pitch you her story, and yet, you were there. The goal for today was almost too simple to fulfill, the only obstacle was that it required all the patience you knew you never had, but you were willing to try. 

The sound of the door swinging open let you know that the day started. Suddenly, Minnie and a girl who you thought to be Harriet stepped into the room. You recognized who she was immediately, wrapped in a big baby blue puffer jacket, a long purple skirt brushing against her ankles and a red hat over her dark curls,—she was impossible to mistake.

Despite the bright color and the glowing description of her that Minnie gave you earlier, Harriet kept her eyes down as she listened to your friend speak beside her, only glancing up briefly when Yoongi and Jungkook greeted her. She mumbled a quick hello, then scanned the room—until her gaze landed on you.

Her shoulders tensed the moment her eyes met yours, but she didn’t hesitate. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she followed your friend as she walked towards the stage with steady steps.

“Well, hello girls.” You got down from your seat to greet her, offering a smile. “You must be Harriet.”

Harriet nodded. “Hi,” she said quickly, like it slipped out before she had time to overthink it.

“Harriet, this is your very cool, very last-minute new director slash teacher. Sweetie, this is your brilliant teen-playwright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Brilliant, huh?”

Harriet gave Minnie a look. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Minnie rolled her eyes, as though she was used to this kind of teen behavior.

“I’m only telling the truth,” she huffed. “We all read the script.”

You turned your attention back to Harriet, smiling as you gestured towards the desk. “I read it too. Last night, actually. I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit unprepared. I got the job yesterday.”

Harriet shook her head quickly. “Oh no, of course not. I mean—I wasn’t expecting anyone to take over. I thought we’d just… I don’t know, keep going until the roof collapsed.”

You let out a short laugh. “That still might happen.”

“I wouldn’t even be mad,” she said, tucking a curl behind her ear. “It’d be on theme.”

“C’mon, no roof is going to collapse today.” Minnie waved off. “We have the boys on our side.”

You took a quick look towards the back of the room, where Jungkook was halfway up the ladder, the screwdriver in one hand and a sandwich clamped between his teeth like a man with very specific priorities. Yoongi stood below, holding the toolbox open, glancing between the manual in his hand and the wires poking out of the wall. He looked focused, but the slight frown on his face gave away how confused he was.

“Well, that’s exactly why I’m afraid.” You reached for the script, handing it back to her. If the roof was going to collapse, or the electricity was going to cut out, it wasn’t going to be because of you. You were seventy percent sure of that. “I scribbled a bunch of notes in the margins like a true professional. We can talk through them during rehearsal.”

“Oh, I love margin notes.” She said, her eyes sparkling as she saw your handwriting on the pages. “Especially the brutally honest kind.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna love me, then.”

Minnie perched on the edge of the stage, watching the two of you with a smug expression that screamed told you so without having to say a word. You still refused to see how you and the girl next to you were anything alike. At first glance, Harriet’s personality came through loud and clear—her clothes were colorful, her tone enthusiastic, and her writing nothing like yours had been back in the day. You used to dress in black from head to toe and only talked to people when absolutely necessary. The only thing you seemed to have in common was your love for this place.

“Minnie told me you’re like… a purebred Alley or something like that.” You joked, giving her a small grin. “It shows, I think.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes catching the dim light of the barely functioning reflectors.

You nodded “You wrote about this place like someone who grew up here.” You said “It’s been a while since I’ve been around, but I can recognize it. It’s not something you make up.”

A small smile tugged at Harriet’s lips. “I didn’t have to make it up.” 

“I could tell,” you said, glancing around. “I’m from… a completely different generation, but when I come back, I can tell that things are still the same.” Suddenly, a loud clang echoed through the room as a heavy tool hit the floor, making you flinch. You looked up to see Yoongi mouthing a dramatic “Sorry.”

Harriet laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “Well—maybe most things, at least,” you added, raising an eyebrow. “What I mean is that… It’s important to say that, right? The years passed but the place has the same heart.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to say.” She nodded, like you just read her mind. “I know it’s all kind of falling apart,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the dim lights and creaky walls, “but it still feels like the only place that ever made sense.”

That made your heart clench. You had your chance to run away forever and you took it without thinking twice, but for people like Harriet, there only existed places like The Alley, and the idea that it could disappear was gut wrenching. 

“I know.” You murmured, glancing at the seats in front of you, replaying memories you tried to forget so many times. “It’s like this place gets into your blood or something.” 

There was a quiet beat, both of you sitting in that shared understanding.

Then Harriet added, voice a little softer, “That’s why I wrote it. The play, I mean. It was just… my way of trying to keep it alive. Even if it’s just a story.”

You glanced over at her, your fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the script. “You did more than that. You captured the heart of it. That’s not easy.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she held your gaze. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

Harriet let out a soft, slightly nervous laugh. “Well, Minnie talks about you like you are linked to this place, but you know… like, you’re spiritually bonded or something. Everybody kind of knows that.” 

You blinked. Not expecting that. Not at all. 

Maybe you were. There was a time where you felt it more than ever, back when you spent your afternoons in this building instead of studying for exams you never cared about, back when the air smelled like incense and acrylic paint and some band played the same Beatles song over and over again in the other room, interrupting all your theater classes. The feeling clinging in your bones, your hand holding onto it like it was about to slip away.

But you left, more than once. First, you trade it for the chance of becoming someone else. You failed at that. Came back here, got your heart shattered and left again. And yet somehow, every time you drifted, The Alley stayed the same. Waiting.

You weren’t sure if that made you loyal or pathetic. Maybe both. 

You didn’t come back for this place, you weren’t even thinking of stepping foot here. You came back because you had nowhere else to go, because you needed something familiar to put you up on your feet and snap out of everything. But maybe this place knew better than you did. Maybe it was always supposed to pull you home.  

You sighed, feeling your chest tightened. “Like I said, it gets into your blood.” You sat back, holding the script in your hands. It was too early to think about all that. You tried to shake off all those thoughts, remembering why you were there in the first place. “But let’s not get dramatic, at least not more than necessary. I got tricked into directing your play.”

Harriet grinned. “Still counts.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head fondly as you flipped open the script again. There wasn’t time to sit in feelings. Not when you had a job to do.

“Alright,” you said, your tone shifting into something drier. “Let’s talk about the notes.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, nodding. “Shoot.”

There was a brief silence, just long enough for Harriet to hold her breath and for you to find the right page. The air shifted—calm, but expectant. “Your protagonist is stubborn as hell,” you said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “Which I respect, totally. But the pacing in the second act drags.”

Harriet blinked. “I—I was trying to show her spiraling.”

“There are other ways to show her spiraling.” You tapped the script, flipping to your notes. “Don’t write her like she’s in a coma. You had her throwing punches in Act One, then suddenly she’s trying to hold back.”

Harriet frowned, thoughtful now. “Huh. Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”

You caught Minnie smirking from the corner of your eye, clearly enjoying herself.

“For example,” you continued, pointing at a line, “this monologue? I liked it. She’s trying to save The Alley, she’s emotional and messy—she should stay that way the whole play, even if she’s overthinking. But in the next four pages, you wrote her like she’s afraid to raise her voice.”

“She’s not afraid,” Harriet said quickly. “She just—she masks it. Like she doesn’t want people to know how much she cares.”

You tilted your head. “Alright now, does she care or she does not? Let’s make up our minds.”

Minnie snorted.

Harriet looked around like she was hoping someone else might answer for her. Her pupils flicked nervously. “I guess… she does.”

“Exactly. So should she try to mask it?”

She bit her lip, then shook her head. “I guess she shouldn’t.”

“Okay, let’s keep her that way.” You nodded, flipping through the pages again. “Write the ugly. The parts that don’t fit into a speech. You’re sixteen, not a board of directors. Don’t try to be polite in art. You’ll bore people to death.”

Harriet nodded, eyes shining a little brighter now. “That’s really good advice.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, clicking your pen shut. “Most days I’m a bitch, that’s what I’ve heard of.”

You heard a squeaky sound coming from seats, catching both of your attentions. You tilted your head to look at your best friend, trying not to laugh too loud. You adjusted your reading glasses to look at her better.  “Don’t you have work to do, Minnie?” 

She smiled, not ashamed at all. “Yeah, I do, but this is more exciting.” She confessed “You two are opposite ends of the same storm. This should be fun.” 

Your gaze drifted back to Harriet, and just for a second, you saw it—something in her that echoed back to you. Maybe you weren’t so different after all.

There was no need to point out that everyone in your life seemed to know exactly how to avoid setting you off. Like when you were a kid and Simon handed you the TV remote just before you started screaming, or when Ian knew the exact moment to agree with you in the middle of a discussion—right before your frown appeared. It was like an unspoken rule: when you were mad, hell broke loose. And Yoongi knew it better than anyone. 

Which was probably why he’d barely said a word since the morning started. 

The room wasn’t particularly big, but his presence, sticking to the far side like there was some invisible line between you, made it feel that way. You were focused on other things now, but the memories this room held were almost palpable and impossible to miss, at least to you. There, in the center of the room, stood the same two chairs you’d sat in when Yoongi invited you to the Christmas movie night. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same. It was a twisted thought—one of those you’d buried long ago and forbidden from resurfacing—but this time, you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t help but wonder if, when he looked at the seats or stepped onto the stage, when he walked through the hallway or passed the room next door, he caught even the faintest echo of the memory of his fingertips against your skin.

You knew it was silly, and there was no point in even thinking about it, but something sparked in your chest when you did. 

You shook your head, annoyed with yourself. Thinking like that was dangerous. It didn’t matter. It was in the past. But still—how could he be here and not think of you?

You let out a heavy sigh, knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Either way, he was here, and that was enough to keep your irritation on a slow burn.

Lucky for you, you had enough things to do to keep yourself entertained, it wasn’t long before your actual appointment arrived.

One by one, then in pairs, then all at once, exactly fourteen teenagers trickled into the room, dragging backpacks and half-eaten snacks, tossing jackets onto the backs of chairs like they owned the place. Within minutes, the room was a mess of voices and overlapping conversations.

You stayed seated at the desk Jungkook had kindly set up onstage so you could work more comfortably, going over notes in the script with Harriet and letting the noise build around you. You didn’t know exactly what Minnie had told them to get them to come back to rehearsals, but the fact that no one seemed to notice you yet led you to believe she hadn’t mentioned your name at all. 

“Wait, is that—”

You didn’t look up right away, but you felt the shift in the room, the quiet whispers. Then, someone dropped their water bottle, the loud metallic sound echoing through the room.

Someone else whispered “No way,” in the most dramatic whisper known to man.

Harriet sighed beside you, muttering under her breath as she tried to contain her excitement “Here we go.”

You glance up from the script. “Are we all ready?” You asked, making a few of them share glances between each other, stunned. Setting the script down, you stood up from your seat. “Hi, by the way. I’m Y/N. Minnie’s friend.”

There was a short pause before the room exploded in whispers again.

“Wait, seriously?”

“That’s her?”

“Dude. She’s literally famous.”

“No way.”

You felt the weight of their stares all at once—curious, excited, wide-eyed. It wasn’t the worst kind of attention, but it still made your skin crawl a little.

You cleared your throat. “For those who don’t know me, I’m an actress. You might’ve seen me in one or two movies. Or—more recently—on the internet, for entirely different reasons. It’s been... a fun week.”

That got a few chuckles. Someone covered their mouth, like they weren’t sure if they were allowed to laugh.

“I grew up around here. Born and raised. Went to school a few blocks away, smoked my first cigarette in the park across the street—decided pretty fast that wasn’t for me.” You gave a small shrug. “I also used to take theater classes in this exact room. A long time ago... or maybe not that long ago. Honestly, it kind of feels like time never passed at all.”

Your eyes swept the space, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “That’s how I met Minnie, actually. She’s been my best friend ever since.”

You leaned against the desk. “So when she asked if I could do her a favor and step in to help direct this thing, I said yes. Mostly because she’s annoyingly persuasive. But also… because I owe this place a lot.”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “So no, I’m not here to give some big inspirational speech or anything. I don’t want this to be more dramatic than it’s already gonna be. I heard it’s been kind of rough around here lately, and I wanted to help.”

You gave a small shrug. “I’ve always loved this place—and I’m guessing you do too. I know what it’s like to start with nothing. No time, no budget, too many opinions. I’ve been in this room. And hey, if we’re lucky, we might actually make something cool.”

You paused, the silence stretching just enough to make you aware of all the pair of eyes looking at you, expectantly, like they were waiting for you to say something to make  all of this sense. God this was awkward. You hated introductions. 

Just as you were about to move on, a boy sitting cross-legged near the corner raised his hand hesitantly.

“Uh—sorry. I was just wondering… is this, like, for a documentary or something?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard “A documentary?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You’re famous, and now you’re here, so I thought maybe there were cameras or—like, a redemption arc thing?”

A few kids laughed nervously. You stared at him for a beat.

“Okay, first of all, if this is a redemption arc, someone forgot to write a better opening scene.” That got a few chuckles. “Second of all, there are no cameras. And there will not be cameras either, so if any of you leak behind-the-scenes footage of me yelling at the lighting cues, I will sue you.” 

The room broke into laughter. The boy held up his hands in surrender. 

Then, a girl piped up from the back. “So… you’re really staying?”

You looked around at their faces and let out a breath that felt more like a decision than an answer.

You nodded. “Yes. So stop asking before I change my mind.”

A beat passed.

Then you clapped your hands once. “Alright. Let’s do something terrible before it gets good.” You turned to Harriet and handed her the script. “You’re on book duty. Anyone needs a line, go to her.”

Harriet gave you a look like she was trying very hard not to smile.

Soon enough, the whole room was in chaos. Kids dragging chairs across the floor, bumping into each other, laughing too loud, slipping into exaggerated accents for no reason. 

The cast had been picked, most of them by Harriet who ran the auditions just before everything turned into a mess a few weeks ago. They more or less knew the script, at least the parts they were in. It wasn’t a full read-through kind of day anyway. You were mostly blocking a few key scenes, trying to see who could remember their lines under pressure and who needed their cues whispered from behind a prop table.

Someone tried entering from the wrong side of the stage, again. Two kids were arguing about the new Wicked movie. A pair of best friends were giggling so hard in the background that you had to separate them like a school teacher.

You were trying to give notes in between all of it—shouting directions, answering five questions at once, adjusting someone's posture, trying not to lose your mind when the stage lights began flickering, or when the sound of the mic started to cut out. 

You sighed, knowing that you were the one who agreed to work in the same room as Yoongi. And yet, here you were, one lighting fixture away from snapping.

Yoongi was still on that damn ladder, this time closer to the stage, adjusting wires like he had all the time in the world, tossing instructions down to Jungkook, who was elbow-deep in the breaker box near the exit. They weren’t trying to interrupt rehearsal—but they were interrupting rehearsal.

You and Harriet were talking to Theo and Poly, who’d been cast as Ethan—June’s best friend and love interest—and June herself. Theo hadn’t stopped asking questions about his character since rehearsal started, and Poly just stood there, frowning at each one of them.

“So,” Theo said, squinting at his script like it held ancient secrets, “is Ethan supposed to represent the building? Or is the building a metaphor for Ethan?”

Poly pursed her lips. “I don’t think that’s…”

You blinked. “Uh…”

Harriet jumped in before you could finish. “I think the building represents June, actually,” she said thoughtfully. “And everything inside it kind of symbolizes parts of her. Including Ethan.”

You nodded slowly, doing your best not to sound confused. “Yeah. That’s… exactly what I was going to say.”

“But what if Ethan is the building? Like, metaphorically. But also kind of spiritually.”

You paused, wondering how he came up with that thought at all. “Theo...”

He perked up like you were about to confirm his theory.

“You’re not a building,” you said, deadpan. “You’re just a boy who likes a girl who is a building. Emotionally.”

Harriet nodded, hoping everything was clearer now, but the frown on Theo’s face said otherwise. “How is she… a building?” He asked. 

You opened your mouth to answer, but then, the harsh whine of a drill tore through the room, sharp enough to make a few kids flinch.

Your head snapped towards the back, where Yoongi was crouched by the lighting rig, focused on screwing something into a wooden panel. Oblivious. Or pretending to be.

You forced a smile, teeth clenched. “Love that for us,” you muttered.

Yoongi didn’t look up.

You reminded yourself that you agreed to work in the same room as him, but you still couldn’t find it in yourself not to complain. 

He finally glanced over, one brow raised. “Just fixing the lights.”

“Sure,” you muttered, trying to regain control of the room. “Maybe next time, though, you could fix the sound system while you’re at it. You know, keep things interesting.”

The kids snickered nervously, clearly unsure whether to laugh or stay out of it.

Yoongi gave a small, unreadable smile, “That’s next.” 

You blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Great. Just give me a heads-up before you demolish the stage—we would love to watch the show.” You heard a couple kids laughing under their breaths, but Yoongi just smirked and came back to drilling. “Okay, where were we? Right, Theo, June is bonded with the building, they have many similarities...”

You managed to move on, with the help of Harriet, who tried to explain how June and The Alley had similar stories to everyone in the cast so she wouldn’t answer the same questions over and over again.

For a moment, it worked. The rehearsal went slow but chaotic, but it was nothing that you weren’t expecting. The line delivery was still bad, cues were missed and someone kept knocking over a prop chair no matter how many times you moved it out of the way. The sound glitched every now and then, cutting off halfway through a cue, making someone lose their timing, most probably Theo. The lights kept flickering, but you told yourself it was alright. 

There was something about it that made your heart warm. The kids were messy, overly passionate, but they were trying, and that counted for something. Harriet hovered by your side, notebook in hand, whispering little adjustments to you between scenes. You corrected blocking, gave line notes and reassured Poly when she forgot her monologue. It was the kind of chaos that made your head hurt, but also reminded you why you were there.

And for a little while, you forgot about a certain demonic presence in the room. Almost.

Then, another interruption, but this time you couldn’t ignore it like you were planning to do. This time, it wasn’t the sound system or that annoying drilling sound, it was his voice. 

“That panel shouldn’t be used,” he said from the back, voice deep and arms crossed as he nodded towards one of the wood panels the kids had dragged to the stage. 

You turned around to see him, giving the most lethal look you could give to anyone. He didn’t flinch. “Why is that?” You asked, impatiently. 

“It’s flagged and marked for disposal.” He explained, as he continued to work “If we use it and someone gets hurt, the insurance won’t cover it. That kind of negligence puts the theater at legal risk.”

You nodded, jaw tight, trying to remind yourself that he wasn’t doing this to be annoying—even if that was exactly how it felt. “Right. Thanks for the thrilling legal insight.”

“I am the lawyer here,” He said, like you could’ve possibly forgotten.

A few of the kids glanced between you, sensing the tension and trying very hard not to smile. Including Jungkook. 

You gave him a smile. “Yes, and our part time set designer, noise machine, and safety police. We didn’t forget.”

He snorted. “Multitasking. You should try it sometime.”

Harriet let out a gasp and then covered her mouth, pretending to cough. 

You clapped your hands. “Alright, listen up. We’re not using the panels, you heard our lawyer here. If you have any legal questions, I’m sure he’ll be happy to answer. Now come back to your positions before our legal team shut us down.” 

You turned back to the stage, feeling your pulse in your ears. God, this was stupid. You couldn’t react this way every time he opened his mouth, you couldn’t let him get under your skin, not when he was not even trying. 

You turned back to the stage, jaw tight. Let it go. He was right. Technically. And that was the worst part, he always had a way of being technically right. You should be used to it by now.

You didn’t have time for this. Not now.

Everyone kept going. You checked the time on your phone and realized there were only forty-five minutes left of class. After that, you could finally do what you actually came here to do: nothing, and you were genuinely excited about it.

You had your whole day planned: eat with your mom and Phil, take the longest nap imaginable, then wake up and lie in bed with Minnie’s cat until you got hungry enough to drag yourself up and find something to eat.

You thought nothing—not even Yoongi— could ruin it, even if he seemed to be trying really hard to do it.

But, as if he was on cue, his voice echoed through the stage like he was part of the cast himself. 

“Okay, the scene was good, but still rough around the edges. We have time to fix it, don’t worry.” You said, turning to the cast “Poly, I liked the pauses, you have great timing. Just remember that she is not trying to hold back, she’s all-in from the start, speak louder next time.”

Poly hummed, eyes on her script as she quietly mouthed her lines again.

The room went quiet, ready to dive in into the scene again, when the heavy doors creaked open drawing everyone’s attention—everyone except you, whose attention was fixed on the man standing below the stage, who happened to open his mouth again.

“You know, technically, she couldn’t just file a petition like that without legal standing.” He said nonchalantly, making you snap your head towards him.

You paused, confused. “Wait, what?”

Being completely clueless that he wasn’t being welcomed by you, he tried to explain himself “She needs to be a leaseholder, or at least have legal representation,” He said. “If not, that whole scene about the petition is pretty off.”

You weren’t sure what he was doing now. Wasn’t there an unspoken agreement between you two? Some silent rule you both were supposed to obey whenever you happened to breathe the same air. Something along the lines of no talking, no staring, no getting too close.

At least, that was the rule you’ve been following for the past four years. You thought he understood that. You thought he felt it too.

You stared at him. “Is that… really the note you felt we needed right now?”

He shrugged, like this was just helpful feedback. “If the goal is to be convincing—”

“Right. Thank you. Because legal accuracy is something essential in community theater.”

Yoongi tilted his head, still annoyingly calm. “You’re the one who said it needed to feel real.”

You didn’t even try to smile. “Yeah. Emotionally. Not in a way that’s going to put people to sleep.”

He opened his mouth again, but you cut him off. “Unless you want to audition for Guy Who Shouts Legal Objections From the Back of the Room, maybe let me direct?”

He paused, his brows lifting ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if he was about to keep pushing or finally let it go.

“Sure. You’re in charge,” he said, backing off.

You already had a sharp retort loaded on your tongue before he even opened his mouth, but as your gaze drifted towards the seats, you caught sight of Minnie, who had just slipped into the theater.

She was staring straight at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in that quiet, deadly way of hers. Okay, you got it, that was it. You decided to save it for now. 

It was always safest to assume that every man who had ever lived knew the first universal rule of a girl’s handbook: best friends told each other everything.

You were surprised when you came across men who didn’t know about it—like when you had a fight with Ian, and he would get annoyed when you ran to tell Minnie everything about it. Minnie would laugh and say that it was his fault for thinking that you would keep a secret from the person who has been your only confidant for most of your life.

Thinking about it now, Minnie was a nightmare to have as your girlfriend’s best friend. She wanted to know everything, every single detail, every word exactly as it was spoken, as if she had been in the room when you fought with your boyfriend. And you were probably a nightmare to have as a girlfriend, too, because you told her everything.

It was the first rule in a girl’s handbook: best friends told each other everything. As class came to an end and the room filled with overlapping voices, kids repeating lines as they hopped off the stage and chairs being dragged noisily back into place, you glanced at Yoongi, his hair a mess and hands still smudged with dust, and wondered if he’d ever heard of that rule. If not, Minnie made sure he did by the end of the morning.

She stayed to watch the end of the class, saying goodbye to every single kid as they left. When the door closed behind the last of them, the room suddenly fell silent, the only sounds were the distant voices of Yoongi and Jungkook, and Minnie’s steady step as she made her way towards you. 

You were zipping up your backpack when she spoke.

“You,” she said, making you look up. “And you.”

She pointed at you, then at the man standing in the back of the room.

“Mind joining me in my office?” she said, voice calm, but carrying enough weight to make it clear it wasn’t really a question. For a second, you and Yoongi exchanged glances, like two kids getting caught sharing notes in the middle of class.

God, it was your first day and you already screwed it up. You couldn’t even blame it on someone else. 

Yoongi exhaled slowly, and you could already feel the tension in your shoulders returning. You threw a quick, weary glance at him before following Minnie’s lead.

You walked towards the office, Yoongi trailing behind you. The building was quieter now, the murmur of the rehearsal fading into the distance. Once inside, Minnie closed the door behind you.

You searched your best friend’s eyes for a moment, looking for some kind of reassurance—but she didn’t look at you. She didn’t seem angry, not exactly, but she wasn’t happy either. Honestly, she had every right not to be. You could admit that much, at least.

“Okay, can you, uh… explain what that was?” she asked, settling into the chair in front of you. Neither of you knew what the right move was, but apparently, standing there looking dumb was it. Minnie shook her head, already regretting the question. “Actually, no. Don’t even bother. I already know.”

You gulped, suddenly nervous. You definitely weren’t expecting to get scolded by your best friend today.

“Okay, I don’t know how to say this the right way.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m well aware the two of you aren’t exactly on speaking terms. But I did think you could be in the same room without trying to rip each other’s throats out.” She looked up at you then, gaze soft but pointed. “You promised me you had no problem with him being around here.”

You felt your face heat up immediately. Your eyes widened just a little. “Minnie, I—”

“And you.” She interrupted, pointing at the man standing beside you with crossed arms. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you to behave like another teenager, Yoongi.”

Yoongi shifted his weight. You didn’t look at him, but you could hear the quiet sigh before he tried to speak.

“Minnie…” He started, voice low.

“Sorry. I’m not in the mood to hear any of this.” She raised a hand, cutting him off before he could go further. “I don’t care who started it, or what the hell it was even about. Whatever happened between the two of you in the past is none of my business. In fact—” She gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “Kill each other off if you must. But do it in the parking lot, or the park across the street. Not here. Not in front of the kids.”

Silence followed.

You stood still, realizing it was the first time someone had brought up what happened between you and Yoongi in a very long time. And it made your skin crawl. 

Yoongi stayed quiet too. You could feel his presence beside you, the way he slightly shifted, the sound of his fingers tapping once against his arm. It wasn’t much, but it told you he was biting something back. 

Minnie let out a long sigh and dropped into her chair again. For a moment, the only sound was the faint creak of the seat and the tension still thick in the room.

Then her voice softened.

“Listen, I don’t want to be a dick,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead. “If I could put you in separate rooms so you never had to see each other again, I would. Gladly.”

She looked between you, then leaned forward a little.

“But Yoongi’s working on the theater for the next month. So are you. Unless we want this place to burn to the ground before December, you’re gonna have to see each other. Even on weekdays. Even when it sucks.”

She exhaled “I’ve got a lot of shit going on right now, so can we please—please, pretty please, just try to get along? For the sake of this place and my mental health?”

You shifted your weight, arms crossed loosely in front of you as you stared at the floor. Minnie's words weren’t wrong. In fact, they hit a little too close to the truth.

“Yeah,” you said finally, your voice quiet but steady. “Okay.”

It was the best you could do without sounding defensive. Or worse, emotional.

You didn’t dare look at Yoongi. Just the idea of meeting his eyes in that moment made your stomach turn, but you heard him humming in response, quietly agreeing, too. 

“Good,” Minnie said, still firm but less sharp now. “Because I can’t babysit you two. I’ve already got a dozen kids to look after. Don’t make me regret trusting you with this.”

You both nodded, like students after detention. You glanced at Yoongi—brief, instinctive—and to your surprise, he didn’t look back either.

Minnie waved a hand toward the door with a final sigh.

“Alright. Go.”

You mumbled a quiet goodbye and turned around, being the first to leave. Your steps were quick, almost impatient, as if putting distance between you and that office might somehow erase the last five minutes from existence.

You gripped the strap of your bag tighter, nails digging into the fabric. Once you were past the main doors, you shut your eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply. 

God, you felt like such a fool. 

You were supposed to be past this. Supposed to be past him. Why couldn’t you just ignore him? Why was he so impossible to avoid? 

You shook your head and started walking again, hoping it might clear your thoughts. But the images from two minutes ago clung stubbornly inside of your mind, replaying in loop.

Then, you felt it. A hand brushing your shoulder.

You flinched and turned around, pulse jumping.

Yoongi stood there. Of course he did.

You hadn’t even noticed he’d followed you out. 

With dirty clothes, dirty hands and hair all messy, he searched for your eyes, soft but filled with concern, biting his lower lip before speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to leave yet.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Please…” he said, his voice low and hesitant. “Let’s talk.”

It wasn’t the words so much as the way he said them—quiet, and so soft it made your heart clench. 

You glanced around, suddenly aware of where you were. It was the same place you were that December night four years ago when you were waiting in line to watch the movie, cold and nervous and stupidly in love.  

You crossed your arms, swallowing the memory like a pill. “I’m not sure I want to talk right now.” Or ever.

Yoongi didn’t flinch. He flexed his jaw a little, and nodded because he knew you were right.  “Yeah,” he said, eyes dropping to the pavement for a second. “I figured.”

The wind tugged at both your clothes, making him shiver, he wasn’t wearing a coat, just that smudged white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There, in the early afternoon sunlight, you had the chance to look at him, to really look at him after four long years. You hadn’t realized how much he’d changed, how much longer his hair was now, how he only wore one pair of earrings, how his lips looked slightly pinker. He looked older, of course he did. The years had passed, and he couldn’t help but change. He didn’t look like a boy anymore, but like a man—and for some reason, that hurt

He dragged a hand through his hair, sighing. “It’s just… I want to fix this. Not now, if that’s not what you want. But eventually. Just… let me try.”

You stared at him, unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. “How?”

He let out a breathy, half-laugh, frustrated. “Honestly? I have no fucking idea. But I’ll think of something.”

You gave him a bitter little scoff.

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping forward just slightly, but not too close. “I will.” 

“I’ll need something better than that, Yoongi.”

“I know,” he said, voice low. “I do.”

He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. Then he scratched the back of his neck, a little unsure, a little boyish in the most disarming way. “My mom… she asked me to invite you to dinner one of these days. What if we start there?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Using your mom is cheating.”

That actually got a real smile out of him. Soft and crooked, it made your stomach turn. “I know that too.”

God, you hated how easy it was to remember what that smile did to you.

And yet, somehow, you also knew you were about to say yes.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag, eyes fixed on a crack in the pavement like it held the answer you couldn’t find inside yourself. Just say no. Walk away. But the words never came.

You sighed, voice low and reluctant. “God, Yoongi… if you piss me off, I swear—”

“I’ll try not to,” he said quickly, biting back a smile. 

You gave him a look over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”

But still—you were already walking.

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[northopalshore]

⚚ Asteroid Briede :

in the Natal Chart

The Briede (19029) asteroid is all about your future wife, or female significant other and what truly attracts you towards a woman as well! At the very least, these are the traits of the partners that work best for you in long-term relationships. It also tells you about yourself as a Briede; but in this post I will prioritize your partner instead! This post is based on real people, so it's not going to be too "niche" or romanticized.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

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Masterlist

🗝️ Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

Your wife

She is an assertive firey, passionate women with a young heart & rebellious attitude. Your wife will be very hot, argumentative (both good & bad), protective, hot headed, loyal and honest. They may act before thinking more often than not but that's because they are led by their gut & instincts. She could enjoy physical activities, and workout quite often. She can be somewhat bratty or self centered especially in the 1st house or early degrees.

You as a wife

You may have less patience after marriage, or take on the role of the protector in the household. You will place a lot of importance into your goals (including your children). You may be a somewhat strict mother as well of you choose to have kids. You could also be "louder" in a way.

🗝️ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

Your wife

She will be very friendly, down to earth and slightly dorky. You will attract a homebody with an eye for beauty and sensuality, usually spending a lot of her time at home or curating things to display around the house. She may act as a traditional wife around you but still have a lot of stubbornness to her. She is very chill, and almost has an "old friend " vibe to her. Very supportive of the things you do but may get rather moody.

You as a wife

You may take on a lot of housework or act as a home keeper, spending a lot of your time focused on either your spouse, kids, family or career. Though you may also have a bit of a lazy streak (or as you'd like to call a knack for rest and reposition). For the most part, you will enjoy being married as you get to be more relaxed or embrace that nurturing part of yourself.

🗝️ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

Your wife

She is very smart , sharp minded and facetious. She may love to talk to you or listen to word of mouth a lot. She may have a lot of hobbies or is quite occupied with her responsibility, but she always has a way to include you whenever she can. Prepare to listen to her talk for hours on end keeping you updated on what's going on around her!

You as a wife

You may be multitasking a lot once you're married, perhaps juggling responsibilities, your wants and desires. You may think your life is quite hectic, but in a way rewarding. You act as the problem solver in the household. You'll be more talkative and expressive with the people around you.

🗝️ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

Your wife

She is very sensitive and intune with her emotions. Depending on other aspects (like the house/degree it's in) she may be quite childish or emotionaly mature. Very much a homebody and someone who is very comforting to be around. They may feel like a mother & a child in a way, very innocent and kind.

You as a wife

You will be very nurturing. You are the source of comfort for your family, you may be a little naggy or smothering but your heart is at the right place. You'll find yourself being more intune with your emotions or being more openly vulnerable as well.

🗝️ Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

Your wife

She is someone very bright and optimistic with a special sexy flair to them. They are always the mood maker or the person people look to for a fun time (entertaining). She will love going out with you or just spending time at home feeling happy; even if you do not find yourself attractive their love for you will boost your ego quite a lot! She's flirty, loyal and a little bit possessive. She may seem like a very confident and reassuring person as well. Her energy tends to be very contagious as well!

You as a wife

You are the life of the house hold! You'll know just what to do to make your home more lively, you may lean more into your artistic side as well. You are the fun mom, who may allow a certain amount of freedom to your kids as well. (Though they might find your antics embarrassing at times lol).

🗝️ Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

Your wife

In contrast to what people might think, your wife despite her analytical and criticizing tendencies will be very open-minded. There is a tendency for her to overthink herself at times. She is smart and sensible, but may need your help to ease up when tunnel vision hits them. She's very demure, and helpful around the house or just with you in general. Very caring, and will notice the smallest inconveniences in your day.

You as a wife

You will strive for the best for your family. Perhaps aiming for perfection too especially when it comes to your home life & children. You may start to think more about the little details that you've missed about life of those around you. You could even work harder after marriage.

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🗝️ Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

Your wife

She is a very fair, courteous lady with good morals and a certain elegance to her. She will always be by your side almost like an advisor, they are very smart and good at balancing out the environment. Something about her will be very lovely to look at as well either her face, her fashion, her walk her talk is easy on the eyes. Princess/ queen energy. I've noticed that this placement also contributes to that "power couple" look.

You as a wife

You will be very levelheaded after marriage, it may bring a certain peace of mind to you. You will also adopt a more sophisticated lifestyle. Being married may alow you to indulge in the finer things more often, or at least embrace that side of yourself more.

🗝️ Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

Your wife

She has a very strong presence, a magnetic aura and a bit intimidating to some as well. She will prefer to keep her personal life private, but she is very warm, caring, and devoted behind closed doors. She is also protective of you and your family, and will stick to you through the ups and downs of life. For the most part, she is emotionally dependable and can keep any secret safe.

You as a wife

You will be somewhat low-key. After marriage, you might not show too much of your personal or married life to those around you. You will be cautious, but in no way afraid of showing emotions. You might be more intense after marriage and feel deeper than you've had before.

🗝️ Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

Your wife

They are someone very wise and humorous. They enjoy lightheaded laughs but do not shy away from deep conversations or topics, they will teach you a lot of things and may act as somewhat of a guide to you. You will find comfort coming to them for advice or their opinion. That may be quite mature and are a reliable support system (hype woman). The is intuitive, and introspective.

You as a wife

You are likely the problem solver in the family. Your family will often come to you for advice or for help, even if it is something simple. Marriage life may push you to be more introspective about the things in your life.

🗝️ Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

Your wife

She someone who is very dedicated, loyal and ambitious. Someone who values personal goals and has no problem being independent, that being said it doesn't mean that she's heartless. Infact, she will have a very big soft and comforting side to her as well. She's very patient and a great listener, but expect to hear genuine advice ( usually on how to solve your issue) after you're finished venting to her lol. She may act a little cold at times but it's only when she feels uncomfortable, or is stressed out. She may feel like your manager at times.

You as a wife

You may act a little more strict or be more "disciplined" after marriage, you will appreciate good structure in your daily life as well as your priorities; family, work, passion. Though it also means marriage life may make you more independent and tough.

🗝️ Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

Your wife

She is a unique character. Intelligent, strong-willed and independent. Funny and assertive, but also has a deep layered personality. She will be very invested in the lives of those around her, always finding ways to support them. She's unabashedly herself and may despise the "mundane" world view. She believes in freedom to be and believe whatever you want to in life. She has a best friend like energy to her that makes it all the more natural to be around. She has a sardonic flair to her as well or enjoy dry humor.

You as a wife

You will respect your individuality even after marriage life; which includes your spouses independence as well. Marriage will not deter your own sense of control or ambition and you may prefer to do a lot of things your way or differently from what is expected from a wife. You will likely be more analytical as well.

🗝️ Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

Your wife

She places a lot of value into balanced & deep emotional connections. Like Scorpio, she is also very private and intuitive. She is creative, and empathetic, compassionate and understanding. She is open to a lot of things and people. There is something very mystical about her nature as well, and may embrace a sort of holistic lifestyle or something that's intertwined with her own little world of ideals. Though, she might be all over the place at times.

You as a wife

Gentle, supportive, calm & just as nurturing as Cancer, you are an incredible devoted wife. You may be more intune with the spiritual or religious side of life after marriage. You would go through hell and back with your partner (and family) and will stand by your word. There may be a certain degree of blind loyalty as well ( if not complete detachment).

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Thanks for reading ♡

@northopalshore

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