#so i can understand if its a heavier read

[evelili]

(Sorry if this sounds rude! I'm not saying you're writing is bad i'm just dense)

Idk if this a skill issue or something, but lots of parts in ur magnum opus where pretty incomprehensible to me. I just finished reading and i have no idea what the plot was.

ahh well, i think that may be a skill issue... if maybe u want to lmk what parts you didn't understand, i can tell u if it's smth other people were confused about too ^^

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Shigaraki Tomura Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Todoroki Shoto Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[moonstruckme]

a thought:

reader is literally so grouchy and bratty and tired and is accidentally snapping at (whoever u want) and thennn they take initiative to casual dominance her to take a nap after some tea and it’s just so crazy fluffy!!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: d/s dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

You’d claimed to want to read with Remus on the couch, but you keep huffing like your book is your least favorite thing in the world. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, rubbing a slow back and forth with his thumb in an attempt to pacify you. He knows precisely what this mood is about. 

“Ugh, this construction noise is the worst!” You glare out the window as if hoping the men across the street will see. 

“Why don’t you use my headphones and try to have a nap, dove,” Remus suggests mildly. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, sounds like it’s catching up to you.” 

You bristle at the implication. “I’m not tired, I’m just sick of this. Nobody asked for the road to be redone. It was perfectly fine before.” 

Remus shoots you a sideways look. The road outside your house was riddled with potholes, and you both know it. If you were in a better mood, you’d be baking cookies for the construction workers to thank them. 

You ignore it, huffing again. “I’m gonna get some dinner,” you say, setting your book down roughly as you stand. 

“Last night’s leftovers are in the fridge.” 

“Don’t feel like those.” 

Remus gives your bum a light swat through your sweatpants as you go by. “Eat something real,” he warns. 

You make a vexed harrumphing sound. He chooses not to hear it. 

What he does hear, less than a minute later, is popcorn popping in the microwave. Remus sighs through his nose, tenting his book on the coffee table and pursuing you into the kitchen. You don’t turn around as his footsteps approach. 

“Dove.” Remus takes your hips, turning you manually. “That’s not a real dinner.” 

You shrug, obstinate. Your stare looks like you’re itching for a fight. “It’s what I feel like.” 

“You haven’t had anything with a vegetable in it all day. You need to pick something else.” 

You roll your eyes, turning back around. Ignoring him. Remus hits the button to shut off the microwave. 

You spin back around, eyes flashing. “You can’t—” 

“That’s enough.” He takes your jaw in his hand, your chin resting at the apex of his thumb and forefinger. “You’re being a brat,” he says in a low, steady voice, “because you’re sleepy and probably because you haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday. That stops now. You’re going to eat the dinner you made yesterday, which you liked, and then go have a nap. Understand?” 

Remus isn’t really irritated with you. You’re being unruly, sure, but these moods always end once you get what you’re looking for from him. Now he’s given you it, you’ll calm down. 

It’s fucking precious, the way your temper melts away under his hard gaze. Your eyes round out and your head sits heavier in his hand, remorse finding its way into your expression. 

“Sorry,” you say, tone about ten degrees milder than it had just been. 

Remus rolls his eyes at you, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “I know, darling. You can still make it up to me. Heat up those leftovers, okay?” 

You hum, and he lets you go, kissing the hill of your cheek. 

A minute later, you join him in the living room, curling up next to him on the couch while you eat and he reads. Your posture is already less rigid, the both of you enveloped in companionable silence and the smell of warm food. Your fork clinks as you set your plate down on the coffee table, and when you don’t get up to go to bed, Remus looks over at you. Your eyes are already on him, a question in them.

He fights to repress the smile that curves his lips. “What?” 

“Can I sleep here?” you ask hopefully. “Would it distract you if I put my head on your lap?” 

Remus coos. “No, sweetheart, of course you can.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you’re already lying down, him uncrossing his legs to make his lap more comfortable for you. “You’re not still mad at me?” 

He tsks, petting your hair while you get comfortable. “I’m not. Wanna know a secret?” 

You hum, eyes already closing. 

“I’m never really mad at you, dove.”

[bug-bites]

batfam beach episode?? real not clickbait no glue no borax??

cw: nothing! pure vacation beach fluff (p≧w≦q) also barely proofread,,,

pairing: gn!reader x batfam (NOT ALL AT ONCE.)

characters: dick grayson, jason babygirl todd, cassandra cain, tim drake, damian wayne (all intended to be interpreted as either romantic or platonic unless its damian. ik in some comic runs he's like an adult but hes like permanently 12 in my head and i dont fw that :/)

a/n: im back with a new dc obsession tee hee (soz to everyone who wanted more abt the cod guys or spiderverse im comicsmaxxing and redhoodpilled) will probably make a part 2 w/ bruce, babs, steph, and duke eventually :3c

Dick Grayson haha dick

oh he loves the beach so much

the sand beneath his feet make him feel nostalgic from when he would practice tumbling with his parents in the circus ring i think there's sand in circus rings right? I dunno someone fact check me on that one

the victim of being buried in the sand, always asks for a mermaid tail but ends up with something like massive sand tits (courtesy of either tim or jason), he laughs it off anyways

somehow gets the worst tan lines. He wore a swim shirt one time and never again because the tan lines looked SO BAD which is a total shame because he tans gorgeously

will beg to do play shoulder wars i have no clue if this is the right name, again fact check me for this thing where you get a piggyback ride from someone and you try to knock someone whos also getting a piggyback ride over in the water

you’re on his shoulders since bro is strong asf and you square up against tim and damian

obviously you lose because hello that's damian wayne we are talking about but at least its fun!!

cass and jason are forever the undefeated champions of shoulder wars though, that goes without saying

Cassandra Cain

shes always seen beach episodes in animes that damian practically dragged her into watching so when she gets to actually go to a beach she is so excited peak sibling bonding is dragging your siblings into your interests

loves building sandcastles and writing things in the sand, watching it get washed away, and then do it all over again

hold her hand and jump over waves together on the shore and she will be the giggliest and happiest human being alive on planet earth

but out of all the beach activities she loves beach volleyball

shes actually scarily good at beach volleyball for someone who has never played volleyball before

dick thought it would be fun to teach her and have a friendly match between him and bruce vs you and cass

yeah bruce and dick were COOKED. huffing and puffing like they have a vendetta against the three little pigs at the end of it while cass is like “this is so fun, lets go again!”

ends the day with a little sunset stroll along the shore i need her so bad you do not understand please bbyg ill treat u soooo well

Jason Todd

beaches are fun on paper for him, in person not so much

PERSONAL HC INCOMING! He gets migraines after the lazarus pit so he can only have so much fun before needing to lie face down with his head covered with a beach towel to make everything less overwhelming or he wears sunglasses the entire time

he brings a book to read at the beach and stays in the shade the entire time yes he is that bitch

usually at home in the comfort of his little library he likes to read things that have an impact on him or just stuff that makes him want to analyze deeper. think books like frankenstein, lord of the flies, all quiet on the western front, just generally heavier stuff

but his vacation books? totally different. usually something super light, maybe a shitty romance book that you find in walmart which are clearly just results of book packaging, or a some booktok recommendation he got for shits and giggles because it just was so laughably bad, maybe even a childhood feel-good book like percy jackson or the little prince (mostly just books he would not grieve over if sand permanently got in between the pages)

he tried reading a colleen hoover book once and honest to God wanted to toss it into the ocean HE WOULD HATE HER BOOKS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

but out of everything he likes watching you enjoy yourself, his book wasnt that important anyways. show him that funky sand dollar you found or that really cool piece of seaglass, he’s probably gonna bring it home with him. a little keepsake along with the millions of grains of sand that never seem to go away

Tim Drake

Burns so easily

At first its kinda cute, like hes asking you to help him get that spot on his back he just cant seem to reach and its just a little sweet moment between you two as you rub the sunscreen into his sore muscles

But then it happens again. And again. And again to the point when he goes up to you, you automatically reach for the tube of SPF 100+ 

I just know his vitamin d deficiency goes crazy

Leaves the beach looking like a lobster, sunburnt, a crazy bump on his head from getting hit with a volleyball, and some god awful sunglasses tan lines

Overall, beach activities are not really his thing bros job is NAWT beach

Enjoys the boardwalk a lot more than the beach itself, likes the touristy stuff but still goes to the beach because dick loves it and he loves his older brother :(

Damian Wayne

i feel like he wouldn’t care too much for typical beach stuff. like at every beach that has sand and decently clean water you can do most beach activities

one thing that is never 100% consistent at all beaches is what lives on the beaches. this boy will spend hours staring into tidepools 

bruce was lowk concerned because his son did not gaf about normal beach activities that kids do but eventually he reached a point where he was like "i mean at least hes having fun and being safe"

i feel like talia would always show him books of sea creatures when he was little but he never ended up being able to see them in their natural habitat someone take this boy to an aquarium now

tells you fun facts about each creature you come across

will scold you if you take a shell from the beach, definitely says some shit like “how would you feel if someone ran into your house and just took your bed?”  based though, leave shells at the beach yall! taking them is like bad for the ecosystem

brings his notebook around and has little sketches of the sea creatures

even though typical beach activities arent his favourite, he doesnt hate it. he likes that he can catch a break from all the vigilante stuff and spend time with his family as a family and not just as a team

loves scuba diving. idk it just somehow makes sense and i think he would look really stupid in a wet suit

also i feel like he would never mention it but in his mind hes fully thinking "this is just like a beach episode" but he would rather die than say it out loud FUCKING NERDDD

[celestialtarot11]

astrology observations

Hi friends! Today we’re discussing power dynamics in relationships, so there is light mention of drug use, abuse, gaslighting and emotional abuse. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable! I kept it light as best as I could. Do leave feedback & comments to help! Id love to hear your thoughts <3

Moon in scorpio- Growing up, emotions were regarded as superficial or was never even acknowledged. Mental health did not exist in the natives family, or it was shunned upon. Very likely an authority figure tried to impose their rules and values onto the native, going as far to have the native, “become like me.” As a way to save their legacy, even though it meant suffocating the native’s individuality. Lots of power dynamics and imbalances, the authority figure projected insecurities and problems onto the native at a young age—expecting the native to be a therapist of some kind. Didn’t allow the native to have a childhood of safety, stability and comfort.

3rd house stellium/virgo asc—If you have both of these, one, or Mercury as your ruler your sibling/s are very important in your healing journey. Depending on the planets in your third house or its ruler, you will find what your siblings can hell you heal/work on in this lifetime. If you have Jupiter in the 3rd, it’s possible you could have older sibling/s who always protected you in bad times. Always stood up for you. Always spoke up for you. Always got you when you had a bad day. The love shared between you two is deep. If Jupiter is in scorpio, both of you dealt with a traumatic upbringing only you two understand so deeply. You both saw each other at your deepest.

Jupiter in scorpio 3h makes for a very strong sibling bond. If it is unafflicted, if aspecting venus, or conj. The bond it intensified even more. The sibling would always look out for the native and even get themselves in trouble for it.

If Jupiter is afflicted with Saturn or Pluto, the sibling relationship dynamic will change. Possibly the sibling could move away and go silent, or deal with severe mental health issues. There ends up being a separation between the siblings, a divide in their morals, values and beliefs.

Taurus rising with moon in the 1st house—Its so interesting to see how this quickly can change depending on where the house ruler is. One can look at this and think this makes for an eloquent, observant and emotional yet passive person. But if the house ruler lies in the 8th house which would be Venus, this changes the meaning entirely. The native is possessed with wisdom and hurt of their traumatic childhood. They often experience tumultuous shifts in their identity, because of their lack of safety in their childhood, they never formed who they were. It is hidden by layers of trauma. But with moon in the first house this native carries their wounds deeply and openly. In some way, their childhood is exposed to family or friends around them. It reveals the pain they went through deeply. It can give them a heavier, intense energy. Something like a void of pain and hurt. They may also have eyes that penetrate deep to the soul because of their power. That being said, these natives have the empowerment to heal themselves on a deep level. They do a lot of inner work and may join therapy for a while to really understand themselves in a safe environment.

Sun in the 9th house, aspecting pluto—The native can become controversial due to a “taboo,” topic in their community. Very likely the native is misunderstood for years regarding what they say, what their message is. Somehow people project their opinions, assumptions without thinking of it affects the native. The native may experience backlash, ignorance from the community, until years later a revelation or truth comes out. People come to find out exactly what the native had been preaching was not only right, but astounding for so long. Sun aspecting moon also gives the native a denser, heavier energy. People may think the native was being rude or brash with their words, but in reality the native is passionate, deliberate, and intelligent.

Sun in the 9h, asp pluto— can also make an individual popular for taboo reasons. Or “heavier,” means. Like speaking up on child trafficking, political issues, ethical issues, getting into forensic criminology, becoming a lawyer, becoming a motivational speaker to help abused victims. As a lawyer the native may also fight a case that either hurts or uplifts their career. That case is something everyone will remember then by.

Chiron in the 12th in Pisces—The native experiences total loss of safety, love and stability. Stripped bare of their identity and personality, it’s likely the native experience gaslighting or emotional abuse of some kind around family or friends. The native had dreams and goals that struggled to reach light because as the native was a child, they were too busy shouldering responsibilities. Too busy caring for individuals who kept hurting them, thinking it was love. Confusing love and abuse all the same. I love you my Chiron 12h 🤍

Saturn in the 12h- Oppressive, absent father figure. If there was a father figure, the father either one: slacked on being a father or two, was obsessive in training the child. Strict rules, strict values, a conservative way of living. The native felt misguided and cornered under the father figure, having high expectations dishes out constantly and never being able to live up to any of them, because they are simply human. Which the father figure fails to comprehend—the nature of the child. Saturn in the 12h denotes the father figure experiencing separation from the child multiple times either due to: jail, alcohol, drug possession, divorce, etc.

Jupiter aspecting mars in pisces—Jupiter aspecting mars can make a native dream of taking action for a long time. Towards their future, love life, career, etc. then one day it hits them that they are spending too much time waiting for it to unfold passively. So they make a change. An impulsive much needed change. They undergo a drastic change physically and mentally. People may talk for a long time about the natives’ choices and decisions, leaving behind a legacy.

Mars in the 11th house—Can make parents/friends/family/people ignorant to the natives abuse. People may often gaslight the native as if the native is simply confused about their experiences, leading to disempowerment of the native. People may try and romanticize what the native experienced as well—glossing over extremely important details. The native gets shoved around in childhood, one to the next, never experiencing true stability. Their stability might just be the time they spend alone.

Venus in the 8h—Experiencing loss through relationships. This could exist in so many forms, betrayal, death, separation, etc. The native may relate to it being, not just one relationship, but it’s most of their relationship in this lifetime that bring up patterns in childhood. The native just wants to feel safe and not crash and burn at every connection. May experience separation with a loved one, someone very close to them. The native asks themselves why this pattern of loss keeps happening in their lives. Where does it come from? Often, a parental figure more-so the mother figure. By understanding their relationship to their mother natives can understand how they learned to cope with unhealthy treatment from others and how its impacting their ability to experience meaningful relationships.

NN in the 12h in Aries—Natives with NN in the 12h often experience isolation whether in prison, at home in an abusive family—or being on their own financially. Isolation in some way or form. NN in aries in the 12h, if you pay attention to the rest of the chart it will describe what kind of trauma the native experienced. Someone with this placement possibly experienced isolation & was forced to grow up to be a better mentor. Better son. Better daughter. Better older siblings. But lacked the guidance on how to. They were left to fend for themselves and figure it out. If the native has a stellium in the 3rd house, its possible they were left to be the better older sibling and weren’t taught how to be better for themselves.

Mercury in Capricorn—Surprisingly a native can struggle with speaking or writing with this placement. Whether it be from having a speech impediment, mutism, etc. or they could have been bullied into believing their voice didn’t matter so they hardly share their feelings and thoughts. When they do people expect them to still play that robotic monotonous role—which hurts them even more. Much love to my cap mercs 🤍 eventually its why capricorn mercurys can go on to be poets or be expressive in art. Because they weren’t allowed normal ways to express their feelings.

At your first saturn return, you will experience a massive life change. Any major circumstance happening at that time will be amplified, because Saturn is showing you lessons regarding growth. Healing never truly ends regardless of our age. At the end of your saturn return you may find that whatever issue you were dealing with will resolve itself much better—regarding your inner work and healing.

Thank ya’ll for reading!! <3 sincerely appreciate any feedback or comments you can give. I hope you are all having a wonderful day/night!

Extra

Paid readings🤍

[vee6lolz]

𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

[johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend]

hamzah missing you on vacation

talk to me - hamzahthefantastic x reader

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contains: fluff, smut, reader is female, you read the rest and find out

word count: no clue rn but its short

story below the cut

hamzah: hi baby sorry i haven’t been texting n stuff i’ve been busy with martin and mandy yk but i love you sm and i miss you

you: i understand completely :) have fun and dw about me ily too

hamzah: i just got back to my room, u wanna call?

you: ofcc

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hamzah had gone on vacation to curaçao to relax and film videos for youtube and the podcast. he had brought the trip up to you, asking if you wanted to go. unfortunately, you had work and couldn’t take time off because this was one of their busiest months. you were both obviously disappointed, but he understood and you wanted him to go without you and have fun filming. (#securerelationships) when he got off the plane, that was the moment you realised that it was going to be difficult with extra work and no boyfriend, but you were managing so far. however, today you just got home and boy were you exhausted.

your phone went off as soon as you had sent him the last text. you wait 10 seconds before answering it. “hellooo?” you hear hamzah say. “heyy” you reply, matching his energy. “whats up?” “nothingg, i just missed you” this man knows just what to say. “wait facetime me” he says, while the button pops up on the screen. you answer and see someone else with him. “well hello martin” “y/n! how are you?” “i’m good, how has the trip been for you and mandy?” “so good, she loves it. but this guy here is constantly yapping about how much you would love it too.” “aghh, i know, it looks like a lot of fun, much better than what i’m doing haha.” “alright well i’m gonna go back to my room, cya guys.”

martin leaves hamzah’s hotel room to go back to his own. he turns his camera off, but you didn’t think much of it at the time. you can hear fumbling on his end of the phone. “so, tell me about your day.” you think hard, not even remembering what you did, but start giving him a little summary. you hear a zipper while you talk, but continue as he was probably just changing. you hear him release a groan, “hamzah? are you okay?” “yeah i- just wish you were here right now. hearing your voice isn’t enough.” you finally caught on.

“are you… jerking off right now?” his breath hitches a little. “i’m sorry- i just can’t get you out of my head baby. imagining you in a bikini just makes it worse.” he breathes out. your cheeks grow redder, thankful he wasn’t there to see it. the truth is that you needed him badly too. “well, what would you do if i was there?” you ask him in a more lustful tone. he stops palming himself through his boxers, and removes them instead. “i would pull the string from your- top” he starts slowly stroking his dick. you start taking off your oversized shirt, not bothering to wear a bra because you were home alone. “and then, fuck, i would kiss you everywhere and touch your boobs.” you start massaging your breasts, moaning a little. “mhm, and then what?”

he whimpers, barely audible on the phone. “i wish my hand was yours right now baby. i would probably- m’ take off your bikini and fuck you so good.” he groans out while you take off your panties. you insert a finger into your pussy, ”uh shit, hamzah” you moan out, wanting to help him reach his high. his breathing gets heavier, and all you can think about is if he was the one fingering you right now. “you make me so fucking hard babe-“ you push in another finger, rubbing your clit slightly faster. “keep going hamzah” you praise him, making him involuntarily buck his hips into his hand. “i bet your pussy would taste so good right now.” he says, and you stretch yourself more.

“i can’t hold it,” “just let go y/n” that last sentence made you moan loudly and release your orgasm, panting to try to catch your breath. he groans out, cumming on himself, relieved. “i love you so much.” “i love you too” “you’re definitely coming on the next trip no matter what.” you start getting stuff ready to clean yourself up. “i will, and i think im gonna take a shower now baby.”

“mmm, part 2?”

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thank you for the request im so tired and drained rn but hopefully this will hold you guys off for the next one. ;)

[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 09/08 // upside down

wc: 2.6k // rating: M // cw: excessive description of injury/blood/wounds // tags: previous first kiss, canon divergence, post-s4, steve harrington whump, this man is so injured it’s crazy, so injured and so self-sacrificing

part two to day 8 but can be read alone ♡

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Steve drops down into the unfortunately familiar grey-blue atmosphere of the Upside Down. His feet hit the ground, and despite the bandana covering his nose and mouth, he feels the death and decay enter his lungs as he surveys his surroundings. It’s much worse than before. It’s heavier, like inhaling steam, but sits cold in his chest. A sign that he shouldn’t have returned. A reminder of how dangerous this was. The ground shakes with tremors as Steve pulls on the rope, testing its stability before tying it to the nearby destroyed remains of a trailer. In this state, he couldn’t be sure whose it was. The giant crack in the earth had all but destroyed the trailer park, but it was close enough to where they’d exited those days before, panicked and rushed, Dustin near inconsolable about having lost Eddie.

“Buddy, buddy, look at me,” Steve had said, grasping his shoulders. “We’ll come back for him, okay? I will come back for him.”

“No!” Dustin cried. “No, Steve! I can’t lose you too!”

Steve wouldn’t promise it, but he let the matter go at the time. He waited until after he’d been admitted to the hospital, receiving treatment for an infection in the bat bites. Bringing it back up once they’d all received medical attention only had several people yelling at him. He was warned, commanded, begged—repeatedly and earnestly—to not go back into the Upside Down. That it wasn’t safe. That he needed time to heal. That there would be no point. That Eddie was gone, and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t want Steve to risk his life going back in to find him.

“Steve, you’re literally in a hospital bed,” Nancy had said, her steely tone covering her concern. “You can’t be serious.”

“Listen, Harrington,” Hopper had sat beside him, voice stern. “You are not to go back there. Do you understand me? We can’t lose any more people.”

But Steve wouldn’t be swayed. And so he was alone. Searching the Upside Down for a man that was believed to be dead.

His flashlight swung in an arc, illuminating the destruction around him. Deep, cavernous fissures in the ground are lit up by the flashlight. Eddie couldn’t have gotten far, with how seriously he was injured. Once the earthquakes started, Dustin said he tried to drag his body out of the wreckage, but it was almost impossible. He took cover until the shaking ground settled enough for him to walk. When he went back, Eddie’s body was gone. Steve pulls debris aside, the movement tugging on his barely healed scars, searching areas that someone could hide in. The scar around his neck burns. Steve had to find him.

Mike, Will, and Eleven were looking for Dustin, after having visited Max, when they showed up at Steve’s hospital room. As Dustin readied to walk them out, Steve asked Eleven to stay back to ask her a question—earning some distinctive looks from the others—and once the boys were gone, handed her one of the Missing Person posters that Wayne Munson had hung up around the relief centre.

“Can you look for him?” Steve had asked, desperate at that point. “If he’s still… if he’s down there, will you know?”

Eleven gave him a quizzical look, but nodded. “If he is there, I can find him.”

He’d waited patiently—tried not to fidget, to keep quiet—while she put a blindfold on, the small radio Dustin had brought to Steve set to static. The seconds ticked into minutes as Steve watched intently, waiting for an answer.

“I see him,” she finally said. “He’s… hurt. Lost.”

Steve’s heart was in his throat. “Is he… alive?”

Eleven nodded. “Alive,” she confirmed.

Feeling like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, Steve’s hands went to his hair. He’d hoped, god, he’d prayed, that it was true. That they hadn’t lost Eddie. But that meant he’d been stuck down there for almost a week now.

“D’you—can you see where he is?” Steve asked.

She was still for several moments, mouth pulled into a frown, before she shook her head. Trying not to be disappointed, he focused on the important part. Eddie was alive. For now, at least. But he had to work fast.

“Okay, uh, listen,” Steve said. “Can you please, uh, not tell anyone else? That you know this.”

When she pulled her blindfold off, she gave him a look that was far too knowing. “Friends don’t lie, Steve.”

“I’m not asking you to lie,” He quickly clarified. “But this is to keep everyone else safe. If the others find out that he’s alive, they’ll try to go back in to find him.” He takes a breath. “It has to be me, no one else.”

“Steve, it is not safe there.” Eleven looked over him. “You are still sick. It will get worse.”

“I know, kid,” Steve sighed. “But I have to save him.”

In the end, Steve convinced her to promise to keep it to herself—unless someone asked directly, and unless he hadn’t returned within six hours of going back—with the added compromise that he would tell Robin where he was going. He checked himself out of the hospital that afternoon, signing multiple forms that indicated he knew he was going against medical advice.

Telling Robin of his plan was never in question. He couldn’t lie to her. Sitting her down at his house, he asked her to please not tell anyone, to only involve anyone else if he hadn’t returned in six hours, as he promised Eleven. Robin begged him not to go through with it, reaching an almost panicked state as she tried to convince him to stay. He can still hear her tearful voice in his mind, looping over and over, a reminder of what he’s sacrificing.

“Steve, please, you can’t do this, at least not without someone to help you!” She’d held onto his arm, stopping him from loading items into a backpack.

Steve turned to her. “I’m not going to drag anyone else into this with me, Robin. This is my decision. Everyone’s already made it clear they don’t think it’s a good idea. I gotta go alone.”

“At least let me come with you!” Robin tried, following him as he searched for a flashlight. “At least you wouldn’t be alone.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. “I can’t let you do that for me. It’s too dangerous.”

Robin shrugged him off, tone growing angry. “So what are you doing then?! Going alone when it’s too dangerous for me to come with you? You’re not even fully healed yet, Steve! You could die down there!”

“I have to try, Rob,” Steve sighed. “I have to. He’s trapped down there.” 

“We could organise a rescue, just don’t do this alone!” Robin yelled, reaching the end of her patience.

He took her hands in his. “No one else needs to put themselves in danger. Hopper was right, we can’t lose any more people, but I can’t just leave him down there. I can’t, Robin.”

Steve knew Robin would understand, at least, why he needed to do this. The kiss. The one that haunts him. The one he and Eddie shared behind the RV, right before they marched back into hell and they lost him. Robin knew—more than anyone—what Steve would do, that his mind wouldn’t be changed. Not for something like this. Because Steve was self-sacrificing to the point of harm for anyone important to him. And this was bigger. There was more at stake—she could tell by the way he spoke about it, with how serious his tone was. She cried and held him tight, finally demanding that he come back at the first sign of danger, and promising him that they could regroup and try again. Just as long as he came back.

Heart aching as the conversation replayed in his mind, Steve shook himself. He needed to focus. The increasing pain of his scars was distracting enough, and he couldn’t afford to lose time. Already having searched for what felt like hours, Steve’s strength was starting to waver. The crimson storm clouds rolled overhead. The weight of his emotions—the guilt, the wish that he’d handled things differently—was starting to feel impossible to carry.

It ate him alive, the way it all went down. The connection between them had been undeniable, Steve constantly finding himself drawn to Eddie, and Eddie endlessly getting back up in his space. It all culminated in a shared moment that turned into a timid kiss, which quickly turned desperate and heavy. It all became too much, too fast, too real—

Steve had panicked and asked him to stop, but it just came out wrong, and Eddie wouldn’t hear him out. He’d wanted to keep going, god, he’d never been kissed like that. Not with so much heat and desire and need. But he also didn’t want it to just be that. He felt something between them that was magnetic and electric and set his heart ablaze in a way he hadn’t felt before. He just couldn’t get the words out. Left speechless by the feeling of Eddie’s tongue in his mouth and his body pressed up against him. He wished he’d just been able to verbalise what he felt. I don’t want this to be meaningless. I’m not just trying to get a quick lay at the end of the world. I think this could be something special. I want it to be.

If only his mouth had cooperated with him. But Eddie had misunderstood his faltering for rejection, and ran away… And they had more important issues to deal with. Despite wanting to approach, to explain himself and set the record straight, Steve knew it would have to wait. Except Eddie had done the very thing Steve told him not to do. Ran right into danger, played the hero, and sacrificed himself. Yes, it meant Dustin was saved, and for that, Steve would always be grateful. But Eddie was gone—lost.

Lost but alive. This is the thought that keeps him moving. Keeps him searching despite his body screaming in agony. Some of the wounds feel open, the sickly cold seeping under the bandages and mingling with his blood. His back burns and aches—the abrasions from being dragged on the ground, dry and splitting—the pain of it sinking deep into his muscles. Making it harder for him to move. Every breath is laborious, he feels like he’s drowning. Steve pulls down the bandana, coughing heavily. The strange particles in the air get sucked into his lungs as he tries to catch his breath. The wounds around his stomach bite into him, feeling worse than when he arrived at the hospital, where infection was starting to take hold. He can’t give up.

Every second feels precarious. Steve hasn’t heard the chittering or hissing of any creatures down here, thankfully, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. The atmosphere alone is dangerous enough. Like the Upside Down was rejecting his presence, and the longer he stays, the more it tries to destroy him. How could Eddie be alive in this place?

It’s been hours now. The flashlight illuminates another chasm in the ground, reminding him of how unachievable his task is. Steve drops his backpack to the ground and leans against a more solid looking destroyed trailer, the back of his head hitting it as he looks to the red-clouded sky. His legs ache from walking. Daring to look down, he notices dark spots starting to stain his shirt. He swallows heavily, mouth dry, the taste of rot on his tongue. A wave of nausea rolls over him. He wills it down, knowing that if he vomited now, the pain in his wounds would only grow, and he’s not sure he can handle that. 

Dread starts to seep in, and for the first time since he arrived back here, Steve starts to think that maybe he can’t do this. Maybe he can’t rescue Eddie. Not on his own. Not in his current state. Even if he found Eddie now, how would he be able to help? He can barely support his own weight right now.

Steve slides down the side of the trailer, hissing in pain as it drags against the scars on his back. The ground trembles beneath him. Another reminder of the impossibility of what he’s trying to do. He checks his watch. Three hours since he left, half of his time is already up.

“Fuck…” Steve breathes, trying to keep his cool. He could do this. He had to do this. He reaches into the backpack, pulling out a bottle of water. The plastic cracks as he twists the lid off. The water does little to ease his nausea. It’s with his eyes closed, praying for some strength to return, when he hears it.

A… gasp?

Steve’s head turns sharply toward the echoing sound. He drops the water bottle back into his bag, pulling out his nail bat and scrambling to his feet. The sound comes again from his right. He steps slowly, bat raised. His heart hammers in his chest. Following the sound, pain temporarily forgotten, Steve makes his way carefully around the destroyed trailer, avoiding debris.

The sound gets louder. Steve approaches a chasm in the earth, two half destroyed trailers on either side. Shattered glass and half melted metal litter the ground. With the bat in his hands, the flashlight is tucked under his arm, shakily brightening the space ahead of him. He leans over the edge, feet planted wide, and looks down into the darkness. It’s shallower than he thought, cracked with blocks of earth jutting out of the walls. 

With no immediate danger in his eyeline, he lowers the bat and aims the flashlight down into the cavern. As the light shines over, he sees dark splatters over the rocks, and Steve hopes it’s not blood. He looks lower, brows pulling together as he follows the splatters deeper into the rift. He hears what sounds like a rattling inhale, head snapping up, a few feet ahead of where he currently stands. Taking a couple tentative steps, he scans the depths carefully, searching for the source of the sound.

The splatters are larger, darker, decorating the earth as he follows the light. An odd shape catches his eye, and he directs the flashlight at it. Steve squints, trying to make out the object, as the light barely illuminates that far down. It takes a moment before he recognises the familiar pair of boots, anything else hidden by another overhanging piece of earth.

Steve doesn’t hesitate, shoving the flashlight between his teeth, and sliding down the edge of the chasm. He shakily drops to a set of rocks a little ways down, looking for a safe enough spot to move down again. Leaning against the rough walls, he shifts another step lower, pain in his back and sides screaming at him. It’s a precarious descent, but he manages to reach the bottom. Steve shines the flashlight ahead, brightening the space. When his eyes adjust, he takes a few cautious steps before dropping to his knees, bat falling to the ground with an echoing clunk.

Eddie lays on his side. He’s covered in dried blood, clothes torn, curled defensively with his knees up to his chest, eyes squeezed shut. Unable to see any sign of movement, Steve’s chest tightens, fearing the worst. Was he too late?

He reaches out with a trembling hand. “Eddie?” he breathes.

Eddie jolts, eyes snapping open, taking in a deep, rasping breath. His breathing settles. He focuses on the man above him. “…Steve?”

[nackrosor]

~Magic Hands~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 '𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽' 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

warnings/tags: smut, massage, hurt/comfort, female receiving, v. fingering, soft Ghost, romantic tension, the room is packed with your mates so you have to keep quiet hehe

synopsis: in the aftermath of a rough mission, you find yourself unable to fall asleep due to muscle aches. Your Lieutenant offers to help you release the tension by giving you a massage, which escalates rather quickly.

word count: 4,1k.

[a/n: finally writing for my man Ghost and I'm quite proud of how this first story turned out. Now I'm curious to know what you think of it! Also, this wasn't beta-read so if there's any typo/grammatical error, let me know. Alright, enjoyyyyy 🌶️✨💀]

"You can't sleep?" 

Ghost's deep hushed voice coming from somewhere behind you makes you turn in your bedroll. The room is nearly pitch black, with only a sliver of moonlight streaming in through the half-closed window, yet providing enough light to make your close surroundings visible. Therefore, when you turn around, you can see Ghost sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, his back to the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched straight in front of him. The thin dark gray t-shirt, paired with the intense chiaroscuro that imbues the room, highlights the outline of his massive biceps. Your eyes linger on his arms before they meet his, which twinkle slightly as they capture the moonshine.

"You neither?" 

He hums in response.

A weary sigh escapes you as you sprawl on your back, hand flying to the nape of your neck, where the muscles tug and burn. You feel like a wreck. You knew today’s operation would have been rough, even more than the last ones and you were prepared for it, you had trained so hard for months. You've risked your own skin multiple times during the offensive, although in the end you got away with only a scratch or two; nothing major. You were still high on adrenaline as you made it back to the base camp -a dilapidated temporary facility in the middle of a thick forest- and you were even rather impressed of yourself for having handled it all so well… until fatigue came crushing on you like a double-decker bus, almost knocking you to your knees and you felt the magnitude of the efforts made in all its gravity. You tried to mask it as you dined with your brothers in arms, a scarce sorry meal that didn’t even quench a third of your appetite, then instantly dragged your 200 pounds heavier than normal legs to the storage room adapted for sleeping and flopped down on your bed roll. You thought the ache would pass, that you only needed to lie down and let your limbs rest but it has already been three or four hours since then and you haven’t been able to close your eyes not even once.

"Everything aches so much. I might have strained a muscle or something. Possibly all of them." 

Ghost hums again in understanding. A moment of silence follows; silence only interrupted by the rhythmic snoring of your mates, laying in their bedrolls all around you in the tiny room.

"Come here." 

Your head snaps up. 

"Uh?" 

"You heard me. We need to do something about those sore muscles. Can't allow them to get in the way of the mission tomorrow." 

You look questioningly at him, eyes roaming over his masked face, as if expecting to be able to read his intentions. What can he do for you? The same as he can do for himself, which is pretty much nothing; he’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you to suck it up. If only there was a medic in the facility, you could have asked for an injection to ease the tension in your body but alas, you're on your own down here, equipped with no instant medication other than a pack of analgesics reserved for battle and a pain drug; but there's no way you'd take one on a night before a mission and risk waking up as a zombie in the morning. 

You’d have to wait for a proper medical treatment when you’re out of this hell, assuming you’re still in one piece by then.

“We don’t have all night, Sergeant.”

Ugh, using your title, of course. It can only mean the Lieutenant won’t accept a refusal from you. And who are you to refuse anyway? Just a lower soldier in pain; nothing special about you.

Even though you are still perplexed about his intentions, you scoot toward him, crawling silently so as to not wake up the others. Fortunately you don’t have to step on someone’s lying body to reach your superior.

He spreads his legs to give you room to get closer and you swallow the thrill that inflames your body at the sight of that big hunk of a man welcoming you in his lap. This is not the time to give in to such fantasies. Nor there will ever be. Hard truth.

Ghost’s fingers masterly find the waistband of your cargo trousers and tug at it to make you slide closer.

"Turn around." 

His commanding voice compels you to do as he says without question. There's no room for hesitation when he employs that tone; you must obey his directives, whether you're on the field on a mission or killing time at the HQ. Nobody can stand up to it, least of all you.

You’re barely able to suppress a gasp when you feel his huge hands take hold of your hips and settle you between his thighs, your back colliding with his firm chest. You can't, however, physically stop the shiver that runs down your spine as his palms climb up your sides, sliding upward over your back, causing you to bend slightly forward as he reaches your shoulders. There, he begins to knead your muscles carefully, knowing where to apply more pressure and where to let the tip of his fingers do most of the work.

You’re too stunned to speak. Never in a million years you would have guessed this is what he had in mind to do to help you. Ghost, your Lieutenant, has his hands on you, in a room full of fellow soldiers, in the middle of the night while you are on duty. What crazy-ass dream is this?

"Ghost-," you shudder, his hands working on a particularly sore spot, "a m-massage, seriously?" 

“What?”

“They only make things worse-”

While having Ghost do it is a whole new experience for you, you've received your fair share of massages, both throughout your years of training and after you became a special agent and they never seemed to work on you. They always left you in more pain than you were in before. You could have blamed it on the medic if only you hadn’t changed so many during the past years; they couldn't all have been incompetent, could they?

"You never got one from me, innit? They don't call me magic hands for nothing." 

You frown, throwing him a sideway glance over your shoulder. 

"Nobody calls you that." 

You hear him huff and your head is forced back to face straight by a firm nudge.

As strange and unexpected as it may seem, you must admit that his hands are truly doing Lord’s work against your shoulders, easing your tensed muscles and relieving some pain, so much so that you find yourself closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 

"See? Just relax." 

His hands scoot lower, sliding down your back and sides, resting just above your bum. The warmth of his palms rubbing that sore area in circular motions sends more shivers up your spine. In his ascent back up, he pays attention to the tensed muscles of your arms, thumbs kneading deep into them and then finally, he goes back to your neck. Your breath catches at the feeling of his strong hands wrapping around it. His firm touch appears to arouse something primal within you. You can feel heat pooling in your core right away. 

"Fucking hell. Your neck is rock hard." 

He increases the pressure, rubbing the skin and working on the knots. His thumbs slide up and down your larynx, matching the movement of his other fingers on the nape. Your head bends backward on its own, landing on his chest. 

Ghost hums again, appreciatively. 

"You liking it?" 

"Y-yes, sir-"

His chest shakes softly against your back, a light rumble coming from his throat. 

"Good girl." 

You bite back a gasp. Those hushed words only add to the growing ache between your legs. The massage is clearly starting to turn you on and you feel… conflicted. You know you shouldn’t let his skillful touch, nor his raspy voice whispering so close to your ear or the warmth of his chest pressed against your back affect you so much. However, you are basically caged in his lap, how are you supposed to not let that cloud your judgment? To not allow your fantasies to run wild in your head? Yes, you’re strong, but… not that strong. You can’t possibly stop your body from reacting so naturally to all of these overwhelming sensations. Especially when you’re so touch-starved, and having Ghost being the one to indulge your craving doesn’t help in the slightest.

 " Mh, you're tensing up again." 

Ghost swiftly resumes working on your back, placing the palm of each hand on either side of your spine and working his way up, keeping his hands parallel to one another. When he reaches the top of your back, he fans his hands outwards across the shoulders, as if outlining the top of a heart. Using a kneading motion, he returns to the lower of your back to work the large muscles on either side of your spine then presses his fingertips firmly into your flesh before quickly releasing as he works his way up. The constant pressing and releasing sends your spine tingling and you fail to hold back a moan.    

“Yes. Don’t fight it.”

If only he knew what you were actually fighting against. How can the tension leave your body if his touch and his closeness and his voice are all working so hard together to make you tense up all the more?

You feel his hands close into fists and his knuckles start to rub gently but firmly across the tops of your shoulders and then glide down your biceps, the inner part of your arms, the side of your chest... 

Inadvertently, your body jerks at the new sensation, and his hand accidentally brushes up against your breast, fingers knocking into the slight bulge in your top caused by your aroused nipple. You stifle the moan that erupts from your throat by biting your bottom lip hard, your body stiffening instantaneously. 

Silence falls into the room, coating it in tension; your mates are not even snoring anymore. You don’t dare to move a muscle, you can barely keep your ragged breathing under control. 

Has he noticed? Does he realize what has just happened? It’s so dark in here and it all happened so quickly, he may have no idea what he has just touched, he may have not caught the lewd sound that came out of your mouth, either. Your body has tensed so much, however, that your reaction must have caught his attention. Any doubt goes out the window when you feel his hands retract and his body shift uncomfortably behind you. 

Well, fuck it . You just had to make it awkward, didn’t you? For both of you! How embarrassing. He will look at you and treat you differently from now on, you know it already. You're soldiers, for god’s sake! You're professionals! And he’s your superior! These things shouldn’t happen! They should stay out of work. And to think that you've managed to get this far, despite Ghost's strong magnetic pull on you since the first time you saw him... You’ve hidden your emotions so well for months. But unfortunately, no matter how hard you try and succeed at hiding it, you can’t really control your body and how it reacts to his presence, touch, or gaze. This was bound to happen sooner or later, as much as you prayed it wouldn’t. Besides, how could you have even imagined you would find yourself in such a crazy situation at one point? Working with him every day, getting very physical on the field and still keeping your emotions at bay was already enough to drive you insane. There was no way you could have handled this and came out victorious.

But perhaps you could still salvage this somehow, or at the very least escape the horrible truth-spilling conversation that awaits you. Yes, it is possible. You simply need to get the hell away from Ghost, crawl back to your bedroll, attempt to sleep it off, and put the burden aside to deal with it another day. Easier said than done.

Your hands fumble around you, hoping to meet the cold tiles of the floor -rather than those god-like legs stretched at either side of you- and you bend forward in an attempt to hoist yourself up. 

“A-alright, this has been nice-”

A steel-strong arm snakes around your middle and forcefully pulls you back. You gasp as your spine collides with his chest once more. 

Now that you're pressed up against him, even closer than you were before, you can feel his bulge against your lower back and your mouth goes dry.

"Ghost-", your voice comes out in a loud, unsteady squick and he instantly hushes you, tightening the grip around your waist. 

You feel his hot breath caress your ear even through the balaclava. “We’re not done here, yet.”

His hands start to travel up and down your body once again, bolder this time, skimming over areas he hasn't touched before. The hand wrapped around your middle slips under your tank top, fondling the smooth flesh at your side as it raises, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin, until it reaches the upper area of your stomach. There, his fingertips tease the lower curve of your breast from above the fabric of your sports bra. Your breath catches again but you don't dare to move. He holds his palm there for a long minute. 

Is he testing you? Is he messing with you? Is he silently asking for permission to move forward? The affirmative guttural sound that rewards you as you finally throw your morals out the window and boldly place your hand over his and tug it upwards, sweeps away any doubt. His big hand instantly covers your whole breast, groping it gently at first then squeezing it decisively. His other hand comes to match the motion as they both slide inside the cups and fondle your soft sensitive flesh before turning the focus onto your erect nipples, causing you to arch your back forward and shiver. 

“Is this-”, your voice catches in your throat as his fingers pinch your nipples hard, lips squeezing together to muffle a groan, “-why they call you magic hands ?” 

You feel a light chuckle rumble in his chest and against your back.

“You catch up real quick, Sergeant…”, he whispers in your ear in that gravelly voice that makes you squirm, “...but you don’t know the half of it.” And as if on cue, one of his hands sneaks out of your tank top and slides down your stomach, skimming over the inseam of your pants and resting on your crotch, causing a warmth to spread from deep within your stomach. Two fingers push against your core, suggestively and your heart races. Your breaths are ragged in anticipation. 

“Bet you’re desperate to find out, innit?”

You don’t even realize you’re nodding in response until you feel him huff a laugh through his nose, blowing cool air right next to your ear. 

"Curiosity killed the cat, didn't you hear?" 

His palm rubs against your crotch up and down a few times before giving it a firm squeeze. 

You suck in air through your teeth and your hand lands on his thigh at your side, fingers dipping in his firm muscle. 

" Please -" 

You're not sure what you're even begging him for, your mind dazed with desire, and all you can focus on is the heady sensation of having his warm palm rest so close to your aching cunt but still denying you the touch you desperately crave for. 

Ghost doesn't need you to say anything, he clearly knows what you're pleading for and he makes quick work of unzipping your pants before sliding his hand inside. His eager fingers meet your panties which are, unsurprisingly, already soaked; a small detail that he seems to appreciate greatly. He runs his digits over the wet patch on the fabric, eliciting a loud moan from you. 

An abrupt stirring sound freezes you and your head snaps up, heart jumping in your throat, while your eyes dart across the room expecting to meet the shocked expression of one of your brothers. The thought of having been spotted however doesn't seem to stop Ghost from pushing his fingers beneath the damp fabric of your undies. You don't have time to still the violent beating of your heart as he begins to circle his way through your folds, instantly drawing back your whole attention. A harsh whine crawls up your throat when the pad of his finger meets your clitoris and his free hand immediately moves to cover your mouth. His clad lips suddenly draw close to your ear, skin tingling at the contact. 

"You don't want to wake up the boys, do you, kitten?" 

You shake your head profusely and he hums softly. 

"Thought so."

You suppress the cries of pleasure that he provokes by rubbing his fingers up and down over your slit in a slow intoxicating way, your hips shaking with each swipe. He presses his forearm against your stomach to hold your body still, squeezing you closer to him as a result. 

You wince as you hear it; the wet sound of your desire seems to be the only noise in the otherwise silent room and it only grows louder when Ghost teases your entrance, rubbing his pads around it before easily pushing two fingers inside. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back against his chest. As he thrusts inside you in a steady rhythm, he presses his palm on your most sensitive part, and drags his hand in a firm circle against it. The feeling is dizzying and it sends lightning jolting through you. 

Ghost's hand leaves your mouth to grab your inner thigh and push it over his adjacent knee, spreading your legs wide apart to gain better access to your core and thus shove his fingers deeper inside you. In fact, his next thrust perfectly hits that sacred spot buried deep between your walls and you grasp a fist of his t-shirt and pull it against your lips to muffle your whimpers, while your other hand tugs firmly at his tensed arm lying on your stomach.

You are close, so close. You can feel the heat in your gut begin to bubble and spread, scorching and hair-raising, to the rest of your quivering body. Ghost too seems to notice by the way you tuck into him and clutch at his arm as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded, your safe anchor. His fingers grab your chin and angle your head so that your eyes meet.��

His eyes… his big eyes. The only visible part of his face, the only part you are allowed to lay your gaze on and let it linger. And oh, how beautiful they are. Especially now, glinting with moonshine and looking down at you with a special twinkle which you can’t quite decipher but that makes your heart swell. 

You prompt yourself up in a daze, just enough to cup his cheek and pull him down to meet you in a quite unorthodox kiss. You press your lips desperately to his mask, just above his own and you feel them twitch at the contact, responding to the kiss only a moment later. 

You stay like that while his hand still works against you, faster and sloppier but hitting you perfectly with each push. You keep your lips glued to his as the coiling pleasure in your belly finally snaps, a heady wave of pleasure washes over you and makes your body jerk uncontrollably. Your cries are muffled by the fabric of his mask, even more so when his hand cups the back of your neck and presses you harder against him. He continues to slowly dip his fingers inside your fluttering walls then litter your small bundle of nerves with a few more soft teasing caresses all the while subsiding your spasms with his strong embrace. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your chest heaving hard, heart still racing and legs still shaking when his hand slips out of your pants and you pull back. You let your head rest on his chest as you take a deep long breath. Almost instantly a subdued ruffle of fabrics strikes your ear and you can feel a cool breath blowing on your neck before a pair of soft damp lips meet your boiling skin. You bite your lips at the shiver-inducing sensation; it feels like a vital secret shared in utmost confidence and you don’t dare break the touching moment until his lips retreat and the mask is safely put back on. Only then you chance a look up through a heavy-lidded gaze and you meet his beautiful eyes again, which in turn watch your reactions with a hazy, adoring gaze. All is forgotten; the packed room, the initial conflict you felt, the aching muscles… The only thing you can focus on is the tingling sensation abandoning your body, leaving the way to the heartening warmth of his embrace and gaze. 

“Ghost-”

“Simon.”

You gulp, nodding feebly as you reverently search his eyes. 

“Simon…” 

Saying his name feels strange but also… meaningful. Like uttering a magic word or being handed the sole key that unlocks the armored door that keeps the treasure safe; treasure so priceless and vulnerable that only a few trusted people are allowed to take a glimpse at it.

“I’m-” you fail to find the words, mind dazed and heart hammering in your chest, “that was…”

“Kitten got more than she bargained for.” 

You catch an amused hint in his voice and even if you can’t see it, you’re certain there is a smile tugging at his lips, for the corner of his eyes curl up slightly.

“I take it the massage didn't make things worse after all?”

"Well…", you shift in his embrace, turning to face him with a sheepish grin, "that was some effective massage, alright." 

You prompt yourself up and reading your intentions he closes his legs to let you settle on his lap, your knees resting on either side of his hips. His eyes never leave yours as you lean up, arms latching around his neck. 

"Nothing aches anymore thanks to you…", you grind your hips slowly down against his, relishing in the sound of his heavy breathing picking up, "...but maybe it's you now who is in need of a release ?" You bite your lip at the rousing feeling of his throbbing bulge rubbing against your still sensitive center, as well as at the rare thrilling satisfaction of seeing him crane his head slightly up to look at you. 

His hands descend on your hips, fingers almost painfully gripping the flesh, causing you to groan.

"I wouldn't mind it one bit kitten, believe me…", his lust-clouded eyes rake over your body. You see him swallow hard as he glances down where your hips meet and a long breath escapes his lips. His gaze then trails back up, savoring every inch of you, until it finally locks with yours once again. "But you should hit the sack now."

Disappointment shows plainly on your face.

"But-" 

"Besides, I'm on second watch tonight."

"T-That’s good! I can sneak out to keep you company. I'm not sleepy! Even less now than before. We can-" 

" Negative .” His tone is peremptory and it shuts you up at once. “And don’t fret. You’ll be asleep before your head hits the mat.”

" But -" 

His hands slide up your sides and squeeze your waist, pulling you down to sit on his thighs and hold you at eye level.

"We're taking a rain check, Sergeant."

The title again. His words are final, then. 

A huge sigh escapes you and you nod at last. Reluctantly, you climb out of his lap, his hands following your every movement to support you. Before you stand on your feet and turn around, you chance one last look at him. Your heart swells as you meet once more his big beautiful eyes which look at you so gently, so wistfully… you think you can catch the promise behind them.

"Don't you dare die tomorrow, Simon."

The corners of his eyes curl up again. 

"Surely not on your watch, Kitten."

MORE STORIES 🥀

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[sakiofwaterdeep]

Heyy! (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

I just read your Astarion fic and it's great! It's only one, though.. and I'm hungry for more.. MORE, I SAY! MORE! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Can you do Astarion with a soft and gentle fem/gn Tav please? •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀ Like, imagine having a soft and gentle Tav and because of this, Astarion can be a teeny bit sass and mean to her.. IT'S JUST LIKE YOUR FIRST ASTARION FIC! I'M KINDA IN LOVE WITH IT ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•̥⁠`⁠ʔ.. but what if the tadpole gave him insight of Tav's life.. and he be like, "oh dang.." ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ

SORRY, IF IT'S KINDA REDUNDANT! IT COULD BE JUST A PART 2 OF YOUR FIRST ASTARION FIC ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

ur wish is my command <3

(tw - hints to sad backstory )

the campfire crackles and pops, lighting up the camp as everyone sits by themselves, doing their own things. well, apart from astarion - he's completely putting all his focus into looking at you.

currently you're sat with scratch, laughing as the dog playfights with you. astarions eyes are staring into you, he's trying to figure you out. he's trying to figure out how no matter what you are always kind to others, to random strangers and most of all to him - even after the things he's told you that he has done.

earlier that day you had a complete injured stranger you had found by a tree. fixed him up as best as you could, and took him back to his home. of course, astarion had rolled his eyes and asked "why you are wasting time when we could be on the way to baldurs gate right now?" but you ignored his sass and helped this stranger.

scratch lifts his head from your touch and looks up at astarion who's still staring at you, to which you follow scratch's gaze. astarion is quick and swift, quickly looking down at his book before you had met his gaze but you already know.

"go on boy" you say, throwing his ball to shadowheart, "go get"

scratch runs off with a happy bark as you stand up form your kneeling position, striding over to astarion with a small smirk on your lips, "you were staring"

"i was not staring darling, dont flatter yourself" he lies through his teeth, pretending to read his book, turning the page. you notice he looks - annoyed? at you?

putting your hand on his book, you close it shut and gently take it from him, to which he feigns a exasperated sigh and looks up at you, "yes, my dear?" his 'my, dear' sounding sarcastic but his sarcasm doesn't bother you.

"whats bothering you as something clearly is, and i think that something is me, so speak, please" you say gently - gently. you're always gentle, and why? for what?

"its just-" astarion pauses, letting another sigh, "you're always too nice, too sweet, i dont understand, what for?"

you pause for a moment, biting your lip before looking back into astarions eyes. using the tadpole, opening a way for astarion to look into your mind you speak, "...connect to mind"

and astarion hesitates for a moment, but the look you're giving him lets him know its alright. he connects with your tadpole and slowly the reason upon your politeness and kindness towards anybody reveals itself to him. horrible things happened to you, on parr with his history of cazador.

severing the connection, astarion shakes his head lightly to get back in the moment. his face has fallen into a sadder expression yet his eyes softer looking at you. "i-.." for once, he has no words.

yet there you after, even after revealing the true horrors of your past, your face is kind and your eyes are gentle, "its alright" your voice soft.

"i...had no idea" astarion says, his voice low, he's reflecting on his actions, you can tell "thank you. thank you for showing me"

"yeah, its alright. i just, dont want to treat people the way i was treated" your voice is soft, and quiet but it's evident you're a bit upset, astarion is quick to catch onto that.

and it's not like you and astarion haven't hugged once or twice before, infact the two of you had done heavier stuff than that not long ago, but feeling his arms wrap around your waist before you have any chance to say or move is surprising, but nonetheless, welcoming.

a smile graces your lips, your body flushes with a warm happiness, arms quick to wrap around his neck holding him in return.

"but, seriously darling, we do not need to stop for every person you see on the side of the road" he quips, his usual sassiness coming back to which you chuckle in response.

"no" astarion can't fight the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

[thehigherseekerastro]

→ Venus Through the Houses🪷 (the first house)

The manifestations of having the planet Venus through the houses in the natal chart, in a wider perspective, without being predictable about it.

DISCLAIMER 1: I am NOT a professional astrologer, traditional or modern. I study astrology for a few years, and this is a collection of what I've learned, and what I've seen manifested in real life.

DISCLAIMER 2: Use caution and discernment when reading, and understand that this post is about one isolated planet in one isolated house in a chart. There are 12 houses, 6 major planets, 3 outer planets, and at least 5 possible major aspects between planets in your chart. Those detail can and WILL affect how the energy shows up in your life personally, so it might not apply to you. Everybody is unique.

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Venus in the 1st house 🥰🪞

Out of all the stereotypical descriptions of Venus placements in astrology, Venus in the 1H is the one that is most often true in real life just as it is described. This places Venus at the forefront of your impact on the world around you. It makes your Venus be one of the things people notice the most about you when they deal with you (the sign its in will tell what idea they have of you). And yes, having Venus here is usually an indication of social grace and charm. If it conjuncts your rising, I would go as far as saying it's a beauty indicator. If your Venus is also in a Venusian degree (2°, 14° & 26° - Taurus degrees/7° & 19° - Libra degrees) while it sits in your 1st house, it's probably an indication of beauty too.

The good 😊:

You have social grace and charm, a skill you learned from a young age, after frequently having positive social responses from people you meet.

You are seen by others as pleasant, charming, comforting and delicate.

It tends to give you a good sense of humor about life (doesn't mean you are a funny person).

You could be lucky in your day-to-day life, since Venus rules abundance and it sits in your house of self.

Could have "pretty privilege", in which people are more inclined to give you things or do things for you without much effort to convince them.

It gives you an overall good sense of style, be it clothing, hair, makeup.

You have a more diplomatic approach when going about your ambitions, as opposed to people who just bulldoze over others to get what they want. You know how to ask instead of demand.

If it's well-aspected, your overall demeanor tends to be respectful, sophisticated and sweet.

You could very well be regarded by others as a beautiful person, even frequently fitting societal beauty standards. And even if you are not "conventionally pretty", you are still considered ATTRACTIVE and desirable.

You show your passion (for things, for ideas, and for people) very obviously and openly (unless Venus is in a secretive sign, like Scorpio or Capricorn).

A sweet-talker 🤭. Also, quite naughty and sensual. Not promiscuous or overtly sexual, but flirty and seductive.

The bad 😠:

You could have mad vain and superficial tendencies.

You could be quite self-centered and egotistical.

You could be manipulative, since you learned from a young age how to finesse people into giving you and doing things for you.

Could have passive-agressive arrogance, in which you're not clear about it, as you don't want to ruin your public image, but you're subtly casting people as beneath you, specially regarding their appearance and behavior.

Could indicate unwanted weight gain, specially after the age of 26 (a Venus year), when your metabolism starts to slow down. Also, after you get pregnant, if you have an uterus. Doesn't mean obesity, nor does it mean that someone is ugly if they are heavier-set. It just means YOU might not want that extra weight on you, but have trouble keeping it off, which will make you uncomfortable.

Could indicate self-esteem and self-criticism issues. You might hold yourself to strict and oppressive beauty and behavior standards, might frequently compare yourself with others, be displeased with your own body if it doesn't look exactly the way you want.

Might indicate a possible lack of ambition or drive, as you are most likely used to getting things without much trouble, which in turn makes you not develop that "go-getter" mindset towards your passions and ambitions.

Could struggle hard with aging, and could develop melancholic thoughts such as "I used to be so pretty? What happened to me?!", or "Things used to be so easy! Everything is terrible now!", which makes you bitter about your own life when things don't go your way or you have to work too hard to make something happen.

In love 💕:

You show your love openly (if the sign of your Venus allows it), and you want people who profess their attraction to you openly as well.

You love people who are similar to you, share your vibe and likes, and make you look good, as well as people who help you get what you want.

You don't like people who look like you or copy you, but you DO like it when you inspire others. Also, you DO love to gradually make your lover/significant other/partner look like you and fit your aesthetic.

Surprisingly, people with Venus in the 1H don't necessarily need their lover to be beautiful. But they don't want their love not to fit their personal standards, though.

You LOVE compliments from your person. It boosts your confidence and makes you feel appreciated and validated.

Slight tendency to want to manipulate the relationship so the power shifts towards your needs.

A tendency to want partners to approach YOU first, which could lead to being passive and lazy in love.

You could meet your partners anywhere, honestly. 1H Venuses attract love easily.

Most likely places to meet people romantically would be parties, events and through your social circle, but you could make it happen anywhere you want, to be honest.

THIS ONE IS A BIG MAYBE – read this very carefully, as it's one of MANY possibilities. MIGHT indicate a higher likelihood of cheating on at least one of your partners. You are flirty and you like to feel IN love and desired, which could make you seek that attention from multiple sources.

MASTER LIST

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧ WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE THEY?   ઉ   PAC

Hello, angels! I hope you're well. I'm bringing in another nosy type of reading. We'll look into who this person really is and if any advice comes up. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com via paypal! xo ♡

›    none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. ›    personal readings are closed as of march 2024 ›    navigation ♡ masterlist ♡ payhip (extended readings)

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is this person, deep down? two of cups ✧ the hermit ✧ judgement

This is someone who values meaningful, deep, soulful relationships. They do not crave the buzz of parties or endless chatting with strangers. They don't like small talk. Others may describe this person as an old soul, someone introspective and wise. Their friends turn to them for honest and sensible advice; they may be an older sibling, or someone who's seen as a role model in some type of way.

Unfortunately, this wisdom came at a cost. They have endured a thousand inner deaths in life. This person had to start over many, many times, but they always got back up. As strong as they are also loyal, they're mature and still believe in the magic of being surrounded by good people. Strong Virgo and Scorpio energy, given the cards you got.

It's likely they came from poverty or are enduring a financial loss at this moment in time. Since this person is hardworking and independent, I don't think you have anything to worry about - sadly or not, they're more than used to the weight of their shoulders.

Although they're not expressive with their emotions or thoughts, you can count on this person to be sincere. They seem heavily protected by something greater, something bigger. For most of you, this person is spiritual, but not religious. They're very private and you may have a hard time understanding them or figuring them out.

channeled words & songs: black and white, heavy as led, test of time, a drop of water, night of the soul, life path 7, seek solitude, "i'm always okay", read my mind by the killers, runaway horses, small towns.

quotes that remind me of this person

Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: The world or its people's hearts? — Darshana Suresh.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses. — Friedrich Nietzsche.

Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me. — Sigmund Freud.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is this person, deep down? five of swords ✧ the world ✧ the moon

Accomplished, but lonely. It's how this person feels as I shuffled. They have seen and known so much, but it came at the cost of their morals. This person holds many secrets - even from themselves. Nothing dark, but they do regret their ways at times. With how competitive and aggressive they can be, it's difficult for them to hold onto anything but their success.

They may be famous or well-known in some way. Renowned. A lawyer, a judge. Someone with a fair share of experience and authority in a certain field. But my God, how their words can hurt. Have you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword? Yeah, that's this person.

Even when they bask in the glory of being so accomplished, no one really knows this person. Not even themselves, as I said. They're scared of vulnerability, emotions and intimacy. They're scared of the things the Moon tries to show them: their deepest fears, the nightmares and past traumas they've tried to bury deep down.

Interestingly, despite the cards, I get heavy Aries energy. This person may be an Aries Moon, quite a complex placement to have. They're good at being logical and practical, good at the doing, at the speaking, but they don't have the time for people, for emotions... for friendship or family. Given their history, it's likely they shut themselves off from connections out of fear.

I don't think they're happy. They look happy, they look so beautiful, so otherworldly, but inside of them there's this urge for something else. Something more meaningful.

channeled words & songs: ambitchous, aries, sagittarius, "i want it i got it", "let my money talk", chest pains, life path 8 or 9, neon pink, overprotective, oh no! by marina, terrible love by the national, bank account.

quotes that remind me of this person

I live to succeed, not to please you or anyone else. — Marilyn Monroe.

My worst fear - that's anyone's worst fear - is to lose myself and become an empty person. And that happens a lot when you're very ambitious. — Marina Diamandis.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is this person, deep down? two of pentacles ✧ the sun ✧ four of pentacles

What an interesting contradiction, it seems. The person on your mind is generous, extroverted and.. quite the busy bee. Their outer persona remind me of J-Hope from BTS, very caring and extroverted - someone who's got an infectious laugh, but despite his bubbly appearance, he's actually very caring and protective.

Although they may seen foolish, this person is anything but. They're quite careful and at times, intense. However, I don't think many people get to see this more serious and protective side of them. They seem guarded for the right reasons, because they know their heart is quite precious and too much of a good thing to be given away so easily.

It's possible they come off as brain-scattered or high maintenance to you, but they're genuine and one of their main purposes in life - whether they know it or not - is to bring joy to others. They're so good at it. It's not a party without this person, with or without alcohol, they know how to lighten up the mood and are an amazing team player.

It feels cheeky too. I think they like the dad jokes, the lighthearted atmosphere, but they know when to be serious. If I am to be honest, this person is an amazing partner (in case you're asking about a romantic interest) and an even more amazing friend. Someone who'll cheer you up and stick by your side through thick and thin. A very dear friend.

channeled words & songs: heart-shaped, light up a joint, weed, recreational drugs, easy breezy, life of the party by shawn mendes, 9 to 5, bisexual, lgbt+, rainbow, friend-shaped, dogs, cats, energetic, rap.

quotes that remind me of this person

The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.— Bob Marley.

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it. — Robin Williams.

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always. — Unknown.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is this person, deep down? ace of cups ✧ ten of swords ✧ seven of cups ✧ the lovers

I feel like whoever you're asking about is in a brand new mode. They seem to be someone who was previously overburdened by their past. This person is in a major transformative phase, both physically and internally. They have endured so much, it's heartbreaking just thinking about it. I don't think they're very open about it though, at least, they weren't before.

Honestly, this person may have suffered from addiction, major losses or betrayal. They're getting back up after a period of darkness. Spirit's referencing their current phase more so than they actually are, because I believe they haven't yet fully come to really be who they are. They're shedding the person they had become, in order to be who they were meant to be.

They seek a new beginning, new friendships, good, better choices. It seems this path they're on has just begun, so they're a bit.. amazed at the options being offered. Still, this person wants to choose well for themselves and the people they love. They've regained a great love for the world. I feel filled with wonder, with enthusiasm for what's to come. Like anything and everything is possible.

Although they may seem immature, they've seen a lot. They've had to fight to survive through their worst and now, they're learning to let joy and love in. They've come to realize their power, the magic in who they are and learning to accept that this too shall pass. However, this person feels peaceful yet determined, broken yet healing, quite balanced in their aspects. A thinker and a feeler.

channeled words & songs: ego, healing, therapy, six of cups, innocence, yet to come by bts, mbti types, dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen, "a do-over", "maybe", shufflemancy, spiritual, 777, 333, psychedelics, hippie, hologram, offline, nature.

quotes that remind me of this person

I go to seek a Great Perhaps. That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps. — John Green.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. — Steve Jobs.

I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love, you won’t be able to see beyond it. — Warsan Shire.

୨୧ PILE FIVE

who is this person, deep down? two of wands ✧ six of wands ✧ page of cups

A courageous, successful individual. This person has a lot of wanderlust. They are in love with life, in love with themselves, in love with the world. They like to be on the move, to party and be around other people they also admire.

However, they have an impulsive, non-committal side to them that is expressed mainly in the way they approach relationships, especially romantic wise. They have a fear of settling, so they're always on the go, on the search for the next best thing in every way. They may move a lot or have a different crush everyday. Although it isn't inherently bad, I think this person may come off as hard to pin down.

In reality, they're enthusiastic and ready to take on the world. They like the spotlight, they have big dreams too. It gives me Leo energy, in the way they love to be praised, to be adored. Depending on who you're asking, this may be polyamorous or they just enjoy being single and free. Many people describe this person as free-spirited and bold.

At times, their words and behaviors get the best of them. They're not good at keeping secrets and may have quite a temper when angered. They mean well, but there's a diva-like side to this person that can be egocentric or immature, since they've got a bit of a one track mind when it comes to their dreams. They're also very beautiful and they know it. It's also quite the ego boost to be around them - they love to give out compliments and flirt.

channeled words & songs: bisexual, "himbo", bucketlist, pinterest, clean girl era, "i want everything", poetry, interlude: shadow by bts, parallel universe, edm, party girl, wild, erratic, center of attention, instagram, social media influencer, blogger, barbie movie, hungry heart by bruce springsteen, rumors by ross lynch (this song started playing after i finished the section above! very relevant).

quotes that remind me of this person

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days. — Sylvia Plath.

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles. — Audrey Hepburn.

amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

[niallerspayno]

Our Secret (Niall Horan x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: probably the most cliché request ever but i never read a fic like that so here goes nothing. i would love for the reader to be louis sister and her and niall always having that tension for years. niall is absolutely in love with reader and reader is feeling the same. maybe they could date in secret before louis (ever the overprotective brother) and the rest of the band finds out?

Tags: Niall x reader, Louis x sister!reader, angst, fluff

Masterlist

You’ve known Niall for years—long enough to understand his quirks, his humor, and the way his eyes light up when he’s truly happy. Long enough to know that the fluttering in your stomach whenever he’s near isn’t something that’s going to fade.

What you didn’t expect was realising he feels the same way.

It started with the small things: the way his laughter lingers a little longer when you make a joke, or how he always seems to find an excuse to sit next to you. But no matter how much you both might wish otherwise, there’s always been one undeniable obstacle—Louis.

Louis, your fiercely protective older brother, who’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t trust anyone when it comes to you. Especially not one of his best mates.

But tonight, something shifts.

The others have gone to bed, leaving the flat quiet for the first time all day. Niall is sitting close, closer than usual, his knee brushing yours. He’s fiddling with the frayed hem of his sweatshirt, his fingers moving restlessly like he’s trying to keep them busy. You can feel his nervous energy like it’s something tangible in the air between you.

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” he starts, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I mean, I probably shouldn’t even be here right now.”

Your stomach twists, a mix of nerves and anticipation. “Why not?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He hesitates, his eyes fixed on his hands. For a moment, you think he’s going to drop it, but then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, and the vulnerability there takes your breath away.

“Because every time I’m around you,” he says, his voice shaking just slightly, “it gets harder to pretend I don’t feel this. That I don’t want this.”

You swallow hard, the words sinking into you like the weight of a long-held secret finally exposed. The air feels heavier now, charged, and you can’t seem to find the right words.

“Niall…” You trail off, unsure how to start, unsure how to hold onto this moment without shattering it.

He shifts closer, the couch dipping under his weight. “Tell me I’m not mad,” he pleads softly, his Irish accent wrapping around the words. “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this.”

Your breath catches. You want to say something, to reassure him, but all you can do is nod. His expression softens, his lips curving into the faintest smile, like he’s relieved and terrified all at once.

“I’ve liked you for years,” you admit, the words tumbling out like they’ve been waiting to escape. “But I didn’t think—”

Before you can finish, he moves. His hand brushes against your cheek, tentative and warm, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw. “I’ve liked you just as long,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours.

Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, and when he leans in, you meet him halfway. The moment your lips touch, it’s like the world shifts on its axis.

His lips are soft, moving against yours with a mixture of hesitation and hunger, like he’s been imagining this as long as you have. You can taste the faint sweetness of the tea he had earlier and feel the slight scratch of his stubble against your skin. The warmth of his hand spreads along your cheek, grounding you in the moment as his other hand rests lightly on your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

Your fingers tangle in his hoodie, gripping tightly as the kiss deepens. Time seems to stretch and blur until it’s just him, the press of his lips, the scent of his cologne—something woodsy and clean—and the dizzying heat building in your chest.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless. His forehead rests against yours, and his hand lingers on your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

“This is… dangerous,” you whisper, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his lips brushing against your temple in a way that makes your stomach flip. “But I don’t care. Not anymore.”

You lean back just enough to look at him, your fingers still gripping his hoodie. “Louis will kill us. Both of us.”

He chuckles softly, though there’s a seriousness in his eyes. “He might. But we can keep it quiet—for now, at least. Just you and me.”

You hesitate, the weight of his words settling over you. It’s a risk, a huge one, but when you look at him, the way he’s watching you like you’re the only thing that matters, you know it’s worth it.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice firm. “Just us.”

He grins then, that boyish, heart-melting smile that makes you feel like you’re the luckiest person in the world. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, his hand slipping down to entwine with yours. “Sneak around, keep it low-key. We’ve got this.”

You nod, a matching smile tugging at your lips. “We’ve got this.”

And as you sit there, your hands clasped and the weight of the secret pressing against your chest, you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. It’s dangerous, yes, but for the first time in years, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—with him.

...

The days following your and Niall’s decision to date in secret are a mix of exhilaration and anxiety. Every glance, every touch feels like it carries more weight, and the constant balancing act between sneaking moments together and keeping Louis in the dark makes your heart race for all the right—and wrong—reasons.

It starts with little things. A lingering touch when the others aren’t looking. A whispered joke that only the two of you understand. One day, you and Niall manage to steal a quick moment alone in the hallway when Louis and Harry are busy arguing over a video game.

“Do you ever get tired of being sneaky?” you whisper, glancing toward the living room to make sure no one’s coming.

Niall grins, his blue eyes twinkling as he steps closer. “Not when it means I get to do this.” He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss that leaves you breathless.

Before you can respond, Louis shouts your name from the other room, and you both jump apart like guilty kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Niall laughs softly, his breath warm against your cheek. “The things I do for you.”

Keeping your relationship a secret is harder than either of you anticipated. Louis’s protectiveness borders on paranoia at times, and the others are observant in ways you hadn’t counted on.

One afternoon, everyone’s sprawled out in the living room. You’re sitting on the couch with your legs tucked under you, trying not to laugh too hard at something Niall says. He’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, but the way his head tilts back when he laughs makes your heart flutter.

Louis notices the way your gaze lingers a little too long. “Why are you staring at Niall like that?” he asks, his tone light but with an edge of suspicion.

You freeze, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I wasn’t staring,” you say quickly, reaching for a nearby throw pillow and hugging it to your chest.

“Yeah, she was,” Harry chimes in, smirking as he stretches out on the floor. “What’s going on there?”

“Nothing!” you and Niall say at the same time, your voices a little too loud.

The room falls quiet for a beat before Louis narrows his eyes. “Right. Nothing. Just keep it that way.”

The tension hangs in the air even after the conversation moves on, and later, when you and Niall find yourselves alone in the kitchen, you can’t help but sigh.

“He’s going to figure it out,” you say, pressing your hands to your face.

Niall steps closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Not if we’re careful. He’s suspicious, but he’s not a mind reader.”

“Yet,” you mutter, making him laugh.

...

The night is quiet, the kind of silence that makes everything feel softer and more intimate. Niall’s room is dimly lit by the faint glow of his bedside lamp, casting golden light across the space. You’re lying in his arms, your head nestled against his chest as his hand draws lazy circles on your back.

His hoodie, oversized and smelling like him, drapes over your shoulders, and you feel utterly at peace in this stolen moment. His heartbeat thuds steadily under your ear, a soothing rhythm that makes you forget, even briefly, about the world outside the four walls of his room.

“This feels too perfect,” you whisper, tilting your head to look up at him.

Niall’s lips curve into that boyish grin that always melts your heart. “Because it is perfect,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush a soft kiss against your forehead. “Even if we’re sneaking around.”

You laugh quietly, your breath warm against his chest. “Especially because we’re sneaking around.”

His fingers gently tilt your chin up, his blue eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that makes your stomach flutter. “You’re worth all of it, you know. The sneaking, the risk, everything.”

Your chest tightens with emotion as his lips meet yours, soft and unhurried. It’s not the kind of kiss filled with urgency or passion but something deeper, sweeter—a promise. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as his other arm pulls you closer.

Time seems to stand still until you realize how late it’s gotten. You sigh reluctantly, pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his. “I should go. Louis will start getting suspicious if I’m gone too long in the mornings.”

Niall groans softly, his hand trailing down your arm to tangle with your fingers. “Do you really have to?”

You grin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes. But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, you slip out of bed, smoothing down the hoodie you borrowed and quietly padding toward the door. You glance back once to see him watching you, his head propped up on one hand, and he shoots you a wink that makes your cheeks warm.

The hallway is dark and silent, the rest of the house seemingly asleep. You take careful steps, doing your best to avoid the creaky spots in the floor. You’re halfway down the hall, a victorious smile forming on your lips, when you turn a corner and bump straight into someone.

The sound of a sloshing mug and a soft curse break the silence, and you freeze, your heart plummeting. Liam stands before you, wearing pajama bottoms and a sleepy frown, a mug of tea in one hand.

“Oh,” you whisper, panic tightening your throat. “Hi.”

His eyes drift from you to the hoodie you’re wearing—Niall’s hoodie—and then back toward the hallway where you’d just come from. His brow furrows slightly as the pieces fall into place.

“Were you just in Niall’s room?” His voice is low but calm, more curious than accusatory.

You open your mouth to deny it, but the look on his face stops you. Liam has always been the dad of the group—the reasonable one, the one you can’t lie to even if you tried. “I… yeah. I was.”

He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “So, it’s true then. You and Niall?”

Your cheeks burn as you glance down, nodding. “We’ve been… seeing each other. But you can’t say anything, Liam. Please. Especially not to Louis.”

Liam sighs, his expression softening. He leans against the wall, setting his mug on the nearby table. “I had a feeling. Niall’s been head over heels for you for ages.”

You blink, caught off guard. “He told you?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “He didn’t have to. I’ve known him long enough to see it. The way he looks at you… it’s pretty obvious. I think it’s great, really.”

Relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived when Liam’s face grows more serious. “But Louis… you know how protective he is. How do you think he’s going to take this?”

Your stomach twists. “Not well,” you admit. “That’s why we’re keeping it quiet. We’re not trying to hurt him or anything.”

“I know you’re not,” Liam says, his voice steady. “But this won’t stay a secret forever. Louis isn’t clueless, and when he finds out, it’s going to hit him hard.”

“We’ll figure it out,” you say, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “We just need more time.”

Liam studies you for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. I won’t say anything. But you two need to be careful, yeah? The last thing we need is Louis losing it.”

“Thank you, Liam,” you whisper, the weight of his understanding bringing tears to your eyes.

He smiles, patting your shoulder. “Just remember—you owe me. And if this blows up, don’t expect me to mediate.”

You laugh quietly, the tension easing just a little. “Deal.”

As Liam heads back toward his room, you exhale deeply, your heart still racing. You slip back into your own room, climbing into bed with a mixture of relief and nerves swirling in your chest.

When your phone buzzes with a text from Niall—“Miss you already. Was it smooth?”—you can’t help but smile. Not exactly, you reply, but we’re safe.

For now.

...

It’s late, and the house is buzzing with laughter and chatter from the movie still playing in the other room. The group is in the living room, engaged in a heated debate over what to watch next, but you and Niall have quietly slipped away, seeking refuge in the kitchen. Your excuse is simple: you’re getting more snacks.

But the real reason is that the need to be near Niall, even for a few moments, has grown too strong to ignore. It’s been a long week of stolen glances and fleeting touches, and tonight, you both decided to take advantage of the quiet moments when the others are distracted.

You’re standing by the fridge, your hand brushing against Niall’s as you reach for the chips on the top shelf. You both laugh quietly at something, the shared secret between you two making every stolen moment feel precious, almost fragile. The weight of the quiet intimacy between you is a heady mix of excitement and fear, the knowledge that at any moment someone could walk in on you making this all the more thrilling.

You turn to face Niall, and his eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense and warm. You lean in just a bit, his breath mingling with yours, the space between you narrowing until you can feel his heartbeat against your chest. It’s as though the outside world has fallen away, and there’s only this moment, only the two of you.

Then, you hear it. The unmistakable sound of footsteps, followed by the faintest of door creaks.

You pull back quickly, heart pounding, but it’s too late. Zayn steps into the kitchen, his eyes immediately flicking between you and Niall with that knowing, calm gaze of his. He doesn’t look surprised—he’s always been perceptive, the one who reads between the lines, who notices the little details others miss.

For a moment, no one speaks. The air feels thick, heavy with the weight of being caught. You try to stammer out an explanation, but Zayn holds up a hand, his expression serene, the faintest of smirks playing at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t say anything,” he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper, as if to avoid drawing attention. “I’m not here to make a big deal out of it.”

You exchange a quick look with Niall, and relief floods through you. Zayn isn’t angry—he’s calm, understanding, the kind of person who always knows how to diffuse a tense moment.

“I had a feeling,” Zayn continues, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.” His gaze softens, and there’s a brief, knowing smile on his face. “And honestly? I’m not surprised. You two have been dancing around each other for ages.”

You swallow nervously, trying to steady your breathing. “We’re...we’re just being careful, Zayn. Louis—he’d—”

Zayn cuts you off with a nod. “I know. Louis wouldn’t take kindly to this.” He pauses, his eyes thoughtful. “I get it. You don’t want to hurt him.”

His tone is understanding, and it’s a relief to hear someone say it out loud, to have someone who understands the situation, the delicate balance you’re trying to maintain. The last thing you want is to hurt Louis, but you’ve known for a while that your feelings for Niall are something you can’t just ignore.

“We’re not telling anyone,” Niall says, his voice steady despite the nerves still lingering in the air. “We’ll keep it between us for now.”

Zayn’s eyes flicker to Niall, then back to you, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “Good. Keep it that way. Just… be careful. Louis is protective, and if he finds out before you’re ready…” He trails off, letting the unspoken words hang in the air.

You nod, the weight of Zayn’s words settling deep in your chest. “We will. We just need a little more time.”

Zayn gives a small smile, one that’s calm but reassuring. “I’ll keep your secret. Just promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t let anyone else find out, and don’t put yourselves in a position where Louis might catch on.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and Niall shoots Zayn a grateful look. “Thanks, man. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Zayn says, his voice low and sincere. “I know you two are good for each other. Just… don’t make things harder than they need to be.”

With that, Zayn turns to leave, pausing just long enough to glance back over his shoulder with a wink. “And hey, try not to get caught next time.”

As he walks out of the kitchen, you and Niall exchange a silent look, both of you processing the encounter. Zayn, as always, has been the calm in the storm, and though the situation is still tense, you can’t help but feel a little lighter now that the secret is out between the two of you. Zayn has given his blessing without making a fuss, and for that, you’re thankful.

But the fear lingers. Louis doesn’t know. And he can never find out.

...

It’s a quiet evening, and the house is filled with the low hum of the others hanging out downstairs. You and Niall, however, have managed to slip away from the group, sneaking into his room under the guise of needing a little privacy. It's been a long week of playing it cool, keeping your relationship a secret, but tonight, the need to be close to Niall is overwhelming.

The door clicks softly behind you, and before you even think about it, Niall’s hands are gently guiding you toward the bed. There’s a new intensity in his gaze, the kind of look that makes your pulse race, as if he can’t wait another moment.

You crawl onto the bed, and Niall follows, the space between you growing smaller with each passing second. His breath brushes against your neck, sending a wave of shivers down your spine. There’s something electric about the way he looks at you—like he’s seeing you for the first time, even though this has been going on for weeks now.

You meet his lips halfway, the kiss soft at first, tentative. But soon, the pressure deepens, and you can feel Niall’s body pressing closer, his hands finding their way to your back, pulling you into him. You can’t help but melt into the kiss, the sweetness of it, the urgency of it, filling the air between you two. It’s a stolen moment, a piece of heaven you’re both willing to hold onto for as long as possible.

You barely notice the time passing, the rest of the world fading as you get lost in him, in the way his lips move against yours, in the way his touch sends warmth spreading through your body. It’s just the two of you, and it feels perfect, like everything has finally fallen into place.

But then, just as the kiss deepens, the sound of a knock at the door jolts you both into reality.

“Oi, Niall. You in there?”

Your eyes snap open in panic. It’s Harry.

Niall freezes, pulling back from the kiss so quickly that it almost feels like the world has stopped. You both stare at the door, heartbeats syncing in a frantic rhythm, unsure whether to answer or stay completely silent. You hear the sound of footsteps, and for a moment, you hope that maybe—just maybe—Harry will walk away.

But then the door swings open, and there he is.

Harry stands in the doorway, his eyes immediately widening as he takes in the sight before him: you and Niall, sitting close on the bed, faces flushed and breathless from the kiss.

For a moment, Harry doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you both, his expression shifting from confusion to realization. His eyes flick between you and Niall, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Ah,” he says, his voice filled with amusement. “So this is what’s been going on, huh?”

You feel your face heat up, your hands fumbling to straighten your clothes, and Niall lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Harry, it’s—” Niall starts, but Harry holds up a hand to stop him.

“No need to explain. I get it,” Harry says, a teasing grin on his lips. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with an exaggerated click, like he’s fully committed to this new discovery. “You two have been sneaky little things, huh?”

You glance at Niall, his expression a mix of embarrassment and guilt, but there’s a sense of relief in his eyes, too. It’s like the tension that’s been building between the two of you for weeks has finally burst open, and there’s no going back now.

Harry leans against the doorframe, his grin never faltering. “I had a feeling about you two. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t hide it anymore.” He pauses for a moment, looking at you both with a more thoughtful expression. “But hey, I’m not gonna tell anyone. It’s not my place.”

You blink, surprised by how calm Harry is about this whole situation. It’s almost like he’s been waiting for this moment, and it doesn’t faze him at all.

“You’re not mad?” you ask, your voice small.

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “Mad? Nah. You two aren’t hurting anyone.” He shrugs, clearly unbothered by the discovery. “But... Louis is another story.” He gives you both a pointed look. “You know how he is.”

Niall rubs his face, letting out a sigh. “We know, mate. We don’t want to hurt him. We just... wanted to keep it quiet for a bit.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a bit of playful sarcasm creeping into his tone. “Yeah, well, you’ve been keeping it quiet for longer than I thought you would.” He steps further into the room, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The way you two have been eyeing each other for weeks now—kind of obvious, don’t you think?”

You cringe slightly, but Harry’s teasing tone softens. He’s not mocking you, just stating the obvious.

“I’m not gonna tell Louis,” Harry says with a casual smile. “But you better be careful. He’s protective, and if he finds out before you’re ready...” He lets the warning hang in the air, knowing full well the consequences that would follow.

“We will. We’re being careful,” Niall says, his voice a little firmer now. “We just don’t want to hurt him, Harry.”

Harry’s expression softens, and for the first time since entering the room, his teasing grin disappears. “I know you don’t. Just... keep it under wraps, yeah? I’m not trying to get dragged into this, but I’m not going to spill the beans either.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Harry’s got your back, even if he’s making jokes about it. But the seriousness in his voice reminds you of what’s at stake.

“Thanks, Harry,” Niall says quietly, his tone sincere.

“Anytime, mate,” Harry says with a wink, his grin returning. “Just try not to get caught again, alright? I don’t want to be the one who has to explain this to Louis.”

You laugh softly, relieved that Harry isn’t going to make this any harder than it already is. As he leaves, you and Niall share a quiet look, the weight of the secret still pressing on your shoulders but feeling a little lighter now that one more person knows.

But deep down, you both know the inevitable is coming. Louis will find out, and when he does... things are going to get complicated.

For now, though, you steal one last glance at Niall, the warmth of his presence still lingering as Harry’s footsteps echo down the hallway. You can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips, because despite everything, it feels worth it. It’s not perfect, not yet, but you have each other—and that’s enough for now.

...

It’s been a few weeks since Niall and you decided to start your secret relationship, and so far, it’s been surprisingly easy to maintain the ruse. The three boys—Liam, Zayn, and Harry—have kept your secret, offering quiet support whenever you need it, but also teasing you relentlessly, as if they were all in on a game that only you and Niall didn’t know how to play. They’ve all made it clear that they won’t tell Louis, but the weight of keeping this hidden is starting to grow heavier with each passing day.

Things between you and Niall have become more comfortable. When you’re around the boys, there’s an easy familiarity that comes with being together in secret. You find yourselves stealing little touches and fleeting glances without thinking. A hand brushing across Niall’s leg under the table during dinner, a quick kiss on the cheek when no one’s looking. You’re still careful—always aware of the eyes around you—but the thrill of being together in such a small, subtle way feels exhilarating.

But as you start to act more casually around the bandmates who know, the teasing becomes harder to avoid.

One afternoon, you’re all sitting in the living room, the familiar sound of movie chatter filling the space as everyone winds down after a long day. Louis has gone to the bathroom for a moment, the perfect opportunity. You sit next to Niall, your leg brushing against his as you both sink into the couch. It’s second nature now, these little moments of closeness—something so simple, but so intimate.

Liam glances over at the two of you, his eyes narrowing as if he’s catching onto something. You freeze for a second, wondering if he’s about to call you out, but instead, he just chuckles softly to himself.

“Alright, lovebirds,” he says, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused. “I’ve seen enough now.”

You and Niall share a quick look, both of you feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You know Liam isn’t really angry, just teasing, but the constant reminders of your secret are beginning to feel suffocating.

“You two are practically joined at the hip these days,” Liam continues, his grin widening. “It’s cute, really, but maybe not so much when you’re doing it right under my nose.”

Niall laughs nervously, shifting slightly in his seat. “We’re just comfortable, mate. Nothing wrong with that.”

Zayn, sitting on the other side of the room, raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “Comfortable? Is that what we’re calling it now?” He leans forward slightly, his voice low and teasing. “I’m starting to think you two are a bit too comfortable. You’ve been all over each other lately.”

You feel your face flush, your heart beating faster as the weight of their teasing settles in. Zayn might not be as overt about it as Liam, but his sharp, observant gaze doesn’t miss a thing.

“Come on, it’s fine,” Harry pipes up from the other side of the room, grinning like he’s been waiting for this moment. “We all know about the secret. You don’t need to keep pretending like it’s some big mystery.”

You bite your lip, trying to hide your nervousness. It’s not that you mind the teasing, but it’s starting to feel like it’s more than just playful fun. There’s an edge to it now, a hint of something more serious.

“I don’t know,” Harry continues, his grin growing mischievous. “I think it’s kind of adorable, watching you two try so hard to keep it under wraps. You’ve been sneaking around for weeks now. How’s it feel, huh?”

Niall runs a hand through his hair, his nerves visible. He’s always been good at handling teasing, but this is different. This feels like pressure, like everyone is waiting for you both to slip up.

“It’s... fine,” you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice comes out a little too high-pitched. You catch Niall’s eye, and you can both feel the underlying tension building. This is no longer just about playful teasing—it’s a reminder of how precarious the whole situation is.

Liam leans forward, his tone suddenly more serious. “But seriously, you guys need to be careful. Louis doesn’t know, and if he finds out before you’re ready...” He trails off, letting the warning hang in the air.

You stiffen, the weight of his words settling heavily in your stomach. It’s been a constant undercurrent since the beginning—Louis. The one person you don’t want to hurt. But despite all the warnings, the teasing, the subtle jabs, it feels like the pressure is building.

“We know,” Niall says, his voice firm, though you can hear the anxiety behind it. “We’re being careful. We just... don’t want to lie to Louis. But we’re also not ready to tell him yet.”

Zayn, who’s been quiet up until this point, looks over at you both, his expression unreadable. “You can’t keep this a secret forever. It’s already becoming obvious to everyone, and sooner or later, someone’s going to slip. And when that happens, it’s gonna be a lot worse than just a few teasing comments.”

The room falls silent, the weight of Zayn’s words sinking in. You can feel the air shift, the once-casual banter taking on a more serious tone.

“We’re just trying to figure things out,” you finally say, your voice quiet, trying to keep calm. “We know it’s not going to be easy, but we’re doing what we can.”

Liam nods slowly, his eyes softening. “I get it. But just... think about Louis. He’s not gonna take this lightly if he finds out. You know how he is.”

You nod, your chest tightening. Every conversation like this feels like another reminder of the risk you’re taking. Keeping the secret from Louis has been hard, and as the weeks pass, it’s only becoming harder to keep up the facade.

But the idea of telling him makes your stomach churn. Louis is your brother, and you know he cares about Niall, but he’s protective. He’d never want to see you hurt, and the thought of his reaction—of the tension it could cause between you, Niall, and him—feels like too much to bear.

“We’re trying,” Niall says again, his voice quieter now, but firm. “We don’t want to hurt Louis. We just need more time.”

Harry gives a short, understanding nod, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “Just don’t make it too obvious, alright? I’m happy for you two, really, but I’m starting to think even I don’t want to watch you two play footsie under the table again.”

The room erupts into laughter, but you can’t shake the tight knot in your stomach. The teasing has started to feel less like fun and more like a warning. The pressure is building, and no matter how much you try to enjoy the time you have with Niall, the inevitable truth remains—you can’t keep hiding this forever.

...

The day you’ve dreaded finally arrives.

It’s another quiet evening. The house is filled with the hum of conversation and the soft sounds of the television. Everyone is winding down, and you and Niall take the opportunity to slip away to his room. The door clicks shut behind you, and the moment it does, you both relax, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten. You sit beside each other on the bed, sharing a stolen kiss—one of those kisses that, despite the danger of being caught, always feels so right.

You close your eyes, savoring the softness of his lips, the warmth of his touch, when suddenly, the door swings open.

Louis stands in the doorway, his expression one of sheer disbelief, his chest heaving as his eyes flick from you to Niall. You freeze, your heart hammering in your chest. Niall pulls away, his face pale, as both of you scramble for words, but none come.

Louis’s voice breaks the silence, low but filled with pure rage. "WHAT THE FUCK?"

You try to speak, to explain, but the words stick in your throat. His eyes flash with anger and hurt, the weight of betrayal heavy in the room. "You—" he points to Niall, his hands trembling with fury. "You’ve been lying to me this whole time? My fucking sister?"

There’s no chance to reply before Louis steps into the room, his voice rising with every syllable. "I trusted you! I thought you were my mate, Niall, and you—" His words cut deep, the betrayal thick in the air. "And you—" His gaze turns to you, his expression faltering for just a second. "You’re my sister, (Y/N). My little sister. How could you do this to me?"

You scramble to your feet, panic setting in as you try to form an explanation, but Louis’s fury overwhelms any attempt you make. Niall stands up quickly, stepping between you and Louis, his face set in grim determination. "Louis, I’m so sorry, but I never meant to hurt you," Niall says, his voice calm but filled with emotion. "I love her. I always have."

Louis doesn’t seem to hear the words. His eyes are dark with anger as he steps forward, fists clenched, but before he can move further, the sound of heavy footsteps echoes down the hall. The other boys—Liam, Zayn, and Harry—rush in, their faces a mix of confusion and concern. They’re too late, though. The damage has already been done.

Louis’s eyes snap to them, narrowing as he takes in their calm expressions. "You all knew?" he spits, his voice hoarse with rage. "You knew about this? And you didn’t tell me?" His chest heaves with each breath, the realization dawning on him. He connects the dots with shocking clarity, his gaze shifting between Niall and the others. "You were all in on this? And you didn’t say anything? How could you let me look like a fucking idiot?"

Liam, his voice low and steady, tries to step forward, but Louis cuts him off with a sharp, dismissive motion. "Don’t," he snaps. "Don’t fucking touch me." His eyes burn with fury, and it’s clear that he’s no longer able to keep his emotions in check. "I trusted all of you. You were supposed to be my friends! My family!"

Zayn, who’s been silent up until now, speaks softly but with an edge in his tone. "Louis, mate, calm down. This isn’t the way to handle it." But Louis is beyond listening. His eyes are fixed on Niall, who stands tall, ready to face whatever’s coming his way.

But Niall doesn’t move to fight back. He doesn’t raise his fists. Instead, he stands his ground, his voice firm and calm as he looks Louis dead in the eye. "Louis, I get it. You’re angry. I’d be angry too. But I love her. And I always have. This isn’t just some fling for me. This is real, and I’m not going to lie about it. Not to you, not to anyone."

Louis’s face twists with disgust, the raw emotion on display. "You think I’ll just let you get away with this? You think I’ll just let you fucking be with my sister, behind my back? What the hell’s wrong with you?" His hands curl into fists again, shaking with the force of his anger, and he takes another step toward Niall.

But Niall doesn’t back down. He doesn’t flinch. His chest rises and falls with each breath, and his gaze never wavers from Louis. "You want to hit me, Louis? You want to beat the shit out of me? Go ahead. I’ll take it. I’ll let you. I’ll take every punch, every hit. Because I’m not going anywhere. I love her, and I always will. Nothing you do will change that."

Louis’s jaw clenches, his fists shaking, but there’s a hesitation now. A moment of doubt. For a split second, it feels like he’s going to break. That he might finally step back, finally process what Niall is saying. But then, something in him snaps, and he lunges forward, throwing a punch that catches Niall off guard.

The blow lands hard, and Niall stumbles back, but he doesn’t retaliate. He doesn’t throw a punch back. He stands there, his face showing no signs of backing down, even as the blood begins to trickle down from his lip where Louis hit him.

The other boys are in motion immediately, trying to intervene. Liam grabs Louis by the shoulders, his grip firm but not aggressive. "Louis, stop!" he says, his voice a mix of authority and concern. "This isn’t you. This isn’t how you handle this."

But Louis is furious, his body trembling with rage as he pushes Liam away. "No!" he roars. "He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to take her from me. I’m her brother. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect her, and he—" His voice cracks with emotion, but the anger still burns in his eyes.

Zayn steps forward, trying to calm Louis, his hand on his shoulder. "Louis, listen to us," Zayn says, his tone softer than the others. "We’re all in this together. Niall didn’t mean to hurt you, and neither did (Y/N). You’re family. But you need to stop before things get worse."

Louis turns to face Zayn, his eyes wild, his breathing erratic. "I don’t care!" he spits. "I don’t care what any of you think! She’s my sister, and he doesn’t get to—"

Harry, finally stepping up from the back, catches Louis’s arm before he can lunge again. "Enough, Lou!" he says, his voice filled with urgency. "You’re making this worse! Stop!"

Louis’s rage is so palpable, so intense, that it seems like the entire room is holding its breath. The space between the five of you is charged with tension, thick with unspoken words and emotions that no one knows how to deal with.

But then, as if all at once, Louis’s shoulders slump, the anger dissipating, replaced by an overwhelming sense of hurt. He looks from Niall to you, his expression faltering. "I don’t know what to do with this," he says, his voice quiet now, breaking. "I don’t know what to do with you two."

The silence that follows feels heavy, suffocating. You stand there, unsure of what to say, the weight of Louis’s words crushing down on you. But you can’t make him understand right now—not when everything is so raw and fresh.

Louis turns and storms out, leaving the room in stunned silence, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

And that's when the anger that's been bubbling inside you erupts. You're standing there, breathless, heart pounding, frustration and hurt flooding your chest. The boys—Liam, Zayn, and Harry—are still standing in the room, their expressions a mixture of concern and hesitation, not sure how to respond to the whirlwind of emotions you’re now releasing.

“Are you all just going to stand there?” you snap, spinning on them, your voice sharp with anger. “You’re okay with this? With him treating Niall like that? Like he’s nothing? Just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean he gets to make decisions for me, and it sure as hell doesn’t give him the right to hurt Niall!”

Liam steps forward, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “(Y/N), I know you're angry, but—”

“Calm down?” you shout, voice rising higher. “How am I supposed to calm down? He’s acting like I don’t know what I’m doing! Like I’m some child who can’t make my own decisions! I’m not a little girl anymore, Liam! I’m an adult! I get to choose who I love, and I love Niall! But he—” You point toward the door where Louis just stormed out, your voice trembling with rage. “—he doesn’t get that, does he? He doesn't care that I’m happy, or that Niall's been nothing but good to me.”

Niall, who had been standing quietly off to the side, takes a hesitant step forward. You can see the concern in his eyes, but it’s mixed with pain, knowing he’s the one who’s been caught in the middle of all this. He gently places a hand on your shoulder, trying to steady you. "Hey, (Y/N), I know you're upset. But we need to stay calm, alright?"

You spin around, your chest heaving as you face him, but there’s a softness in his eyes that cuts through your fury. “Calm? After that?” you snap, the words feeling heavy as they leave your mouth. "Niall, he’s not listening to me! And he’s hurting you! I can’t just stand there and let him get away with it. I—"

Niall gently squeezes your shoulder, his voice soft but firm. “I know you’re angry, love, but this isn’t helping. Louis is hurt too. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. He doesn’t want to see you hurt. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get through this together.”

You’re not sure whether to punch something or break down in tears. Your hands ball into fists, frustration still bubbling up inside you. "I’m not a little girl anymore, Niall," you say, your voice quieter now but still filled with hurt. "I shouldn’t have to fight for this. I shouldn’t have to fight for us."

Liam steps in, looking between you and Niall, clearly struggling to find the right words. “We just don’t want things to get worse, (Y/N). We know Louis can be a lot, but you need to take a step back. You need to think about how we can fix this, not make it worse.”

Zayn adds in, his calm voice like a balm to your raw emotions. “You know Louis doesn’t mean it like that. He’s just... scared. He’s protective, especially with you.”

“Protective?” you mutter bitterly. “He’s smothering me! He’s treating me like I can’t make my own decisions, like I’m incapable of understanding what’s best for me! I’m not a child anymore!”

“I know, love,” Niall says again, his voice gentle but full of compassion. “But we can’t force him to change overnight. Just... give him time. It’ll work out, I promise.”

Your chest tightens, but something about Niall’s words, his touch, begins to soothe you. You're still angry, but a part of you starts to realize that this fight is bigger than just you and Louis. It's about family, about understanding, and about finding a way to navigate these difficult emotions.

You take a deep breath, letting the tension out slowly, and give Niall a nod. “I’m just so tired, Niall... I’m tired of fighting for what feels right.”

Harry puts a hand on your shoulder, his voice full of empathy. “You’re not alone, (Y/N). We’ve got your back. We’re here for you.”

You nod again, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Thanks, guys."

The room falls into a somber silence for a moment, everyone absorbing the weight of the situation. The tension hangs in the air, but at least for now, you're not alone in it.

...

You stand outside Niall’s door, your heart twisting with guilt and worry. It’s late, and the house is silent, but sleep feels impossible after everything that happened. All you can think about is the hurt look in Niall’s eyes as Louis lashed out, the split lip, the bruise forming along his jaw. You hadn’t even stayed to check on him after the argument, too caught up in your own anger at Louis. Now, the weight of it feels unbearable.

You knock softly, barely a whisper of sound. “Niall?”

There’s a pause, and then his voice comes, quiet but warm. “Come in.”

When you open the door, you find him sitting on the edge of his bed, still in his clothes from earlier, his elbows resting on his knees. The room is dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, casting shadows over his tired face. The sight of the cut on his lip and the purple blooming along his jaw makes your heart ache.

“Niall…” you whisper, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours, and despite the bruises, he smiles softly. “Hey, love. You okay?”

His concern for you, even now, only deepens your guilt. You shake your head, crossing the room quickly to stand in front of him. “I should be asking you that. I’m so sorry, Niall. I should’ve stayed with you. I was so angry at Louis, and I just—”

“Shh.” He reaches out, his hands finding yours and pulling you closer. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I get it. Louis was out of line, but so was I, pushing him like that. Don’t blame yourself.”

You shake your head again, tears threatening to spill. “No, it’s not okay. He hurt you, Niall. And I feel like it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says firmly, his voice steady. “He’ll come around. And honestly, I’d take a hundred punches from Louis if it meant I got to be with you.”

His words hit you like a wave, the love and devotion in his voice so palpable it makes your chest ache. You kneel in front of him, your hands gently cradling his face. “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

Your fingers trace softly along his bruised jawline, and his eyes flutter closed at your touch. You lean forward, pressing the gentlest kiss to the edge of the bruise, your lips barely brushing his skin. He exhales a shaky breath, his hands resting on your waist as you continue to kiss along the tender spots, trailing up to the corner of his mouth.

When you pull back slightly, your eyes meet his. There’s a moment of stillness, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. Then, like a magnet, you’re drawn back together, your lips finding his in a kiss that’s slow and deep, filled with all the emotions you can’t put into words.

He kisses you back just as passionately, his hands sliding up your sides to pull you onto his lap. His lips are warm and soft, though you can feel the slight sting of his split lip against yours. But he doesn’t seem to care, and neither do you.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you press your forehead to his, your fingers gently brushing over his cheek. “Did I hurt you?” you ask softly, your voice laced with worry. “Your lip… Does it hurt?”

He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “Yeah, it does a bit.” Then, his grin widens. “But it’s worth it.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound breaking through the heaviness of the night. “You’re impossible,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek, just below the bruise.

“I’m in love with you, you know,” he says suddenly, his voice low but certain.

Your heart skips a beat, and you pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “I know,” you say softly, a smile spreading across your lips. “And I love you too, Niall. So much.”

His smile is radiant despite the bruises, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you close. You curl up beside him on the bed, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrap around you securely.

As the minutes pass, the tension of the day melts away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. His fingers trace soothing patterns along your back, and you feel yourself drifting, the warmth of his embrace grounding you.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs sleepily, his voice a soft promise.

You nod against his chest, your eyes closing as you whisper, “As long as we have each other.”

And with that, you fall asleep in his arms, the world outside fading away, leaving only the love you share to carry you through whatever comes next.

...

It’s been a few weeks since the confrontation, and the tension in the house has been palpable. Louis has kept mostly to himself, barely speaking to anyone, giving them all the silent treatment. It’s like he’s built a wall around himself, and no one knows how to break through. The other boys have tried reaching out, but Louis has kept his distance, holding onto his hurt like a shield.

It’s obvious that Louis is still deeply upset—hurt by what happened between him and Niall, and especially by you. He’s not angry anymore, but you can feel the coldness in the air whenever he’s around. No more playful teasing, no more family banter. Just silence.

It doesn’t help that Niall has been trying to give him space, staying quiet and respectful, understanding that Louis needs time to process everything. You’ve tried talking to him, but Louis is still so distant. It feels like there’s a gap that can’t be bridged, and it’s heartbreaking. You’re stuck in a limbo, unsure of how to move forward.

But eventually, something shifts.

Louis begins talking to Liam, Harry, and Zayn again—slowly at first, and then more naturally, like the old days. He gives them brief apologies, especially to Liam, who was on the receiving end of his anger that night. Harry and Zayn, ever the mediators, do their best to make things right. You can tell Louis is trying, even if his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But when it comes to you and Niall, he stays quiet. He doesn't seek you out. The space between you and him remains, even as he’s mending his relationships with the others. It stings, but you can understand why. He’s still hurt by what happened. He doesn’t know how to look at you without remembering the anger and the hurt.

Then, one evening, it happens. Louis finally comes to you.

You’re sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch with Niall, the two of you quietly chatting, just enjoying the calm of the evening. You’ve both been trying to keep things as normal as possible, but the tension with Louis has been suffocating.

Suddenly, the door to the living room creaks open, and you look up to see Louis standing there. He’s not angry, but the sadness in his eyes is unmistakable. You and Niall exchange a look, both unsure of what to say or how to act.

Louis stands there for a moment, his gaze flickering between the two of you. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his posture is stiff. It’s clear that whatever he’s about to say has been weighing on him.

Finally, he speaks, his voice quiet but steady. “Can we talk?”

You nod, your stomach flipping. “Of course, Louis. We... we need to talk.”

He walks further into the room, sitting down at the other end of the couch. It’s an awkward silence for a few seconds, the tension thick.

Louis takes a deep breath, as though gathering the courage to say something that’s been weighing on him for a long time. His voice is calm, quieter now, as he looks between you and Niall. "I’ve been angry, and I’ve been hurt. But I also know I’ve been holding onto that anger for too long. And it’s not doing any of us any good." His gaze softens as he looks at Niall, then back to you. "I see how much you care about each other, and I know I can’t stand in the way of that. I was just trying to protect you."

You feel a lump form in your throat, and Niall���s hand finds yours, giving you a gentle squeeze. Louis’s words—his genuine, heartfelt apology—are all you needed to hear.

"You’ve always been my protector, Lou," you say softly, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "But Niall’s always had my back too. He loves me, and I love him. We didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m sorry we kept it from you. But we couldn’t keep hiding it."

Louis looks down at the floor for a moment, and when he speaks again, it’s with a deep sigh, his voice calmer, almost resigned. "I know, (Y/N). I know. I was just being... selfish, I guess." He looks at Niall now, his tone sincere. "You’ve always been there for her, Niall. And you... you proved something to me that night. That you love her enough to take whatever comes your way for her." His eyes meet yours again, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "If anyone’s good enough for you, it’s him."

Your heart swells at the words, and you see the sincerity in Louis’s eyes. The tension between you all seems to melt away, replaced by something softer—an understanding, a shared love, and a bond that no argument could break.

Niall gives Louis a small nod, his voice steady. "I’ll always protect her. No matter what." He gives you a reassuring smile, the warmth in his eyes reflecting his promise.

Louis exhales, rubbing a hand over his face as though releasing all the weight of the past few weeks. "I don’t like that it’s been this way," he admits, a chuckle escaping his lips. "But I want you two to be happy. Just promise me you’ll talk to me next time. No more secrets, okay?"

You nod, a small smile breaking through as you feel a sense of relief wash over you. "I promise, Lou."

Without warning, Louis moves toward you and Niall, his arms open wide. "Come here," he says, pulling both of you into a group hug. It’s tight, and you feel the sincerity in his embrace. You wrap your arms around him, feeling the love of your big brother who’s finally accepted what he couldn’t for so long.

Niall hugs you both, his hand on the back of Louis’s shoulder, the three of you holding on to each other in a quiet moment of understanding. The tension is gone. The walls are down. And in that moment, everything feels right again.

Louis pulls back just a little, looking at you both with a genuine, if still somewhat amused, smile. "I don’t know what’s next, but at least we’re all in this together now, yeah?"

You nod, your heart full as you look at Niall, then back at Louis. "Yeah. Together."

And with that, the air feels lighter, the weight of the past lifted. You’ve made it through the storm. There’s still work to do, but with the love and support of both your brother and Niall, you know you can face anything together.

[astraystayyh]

this is a brainrot induced by the lovely @lino-nyangi saying that hyunjin would draw your henna for you ;-;-; this is also for all my homesick people because hyunjin would SO make efforts to understand ur culture and love u better. enjoy reading and happy eid again hehe <3

homesickness is a ruthless guest.

it comes at announced times, suddenly barging into your house and tearing away the warmth you’ve painstakingly guarded, worn hands and battered palms— bleeding wounds that can only be healed at home.

it leaves you dazed in its wake, surrounded by barren walls and a bed that doesn’t feel like your own, adrift in an endless sea, with no shore in sight.

its presence looms heavier during holidays, when visions of what could have been dance tantalizingly before your eyes—you amidst laughter and chatter that speaks to your inner child. but instead, you are consumed by a terrible ache, bones longing for an unattainable home and its traditions.

these are the thoughts hyunjin finds you drowning in, head buried deep into your pillow in a futile attempt to disappear completely— you hope the universe would mistake you for an inanimate object and pass your sadness to an unsuspecting soul.

your boyfriend just got out of his shower, late into the night, droplets of water running down his neck, tracing the contours of his bluish veins. a cloud of vanilla and wood follows him around as he walks over to your bed, clad in a plain white shirt and a pair of black shorts. your favorite.

“hi,” he grins and the weight in your heart dissolves a bit before the sun.

“hey baby—” your words are cut off as he slides his arms underneath your legs, effortlessly picking you up bridal style.

“what are you doing?” you giggle, entwining your hands behind his neck, a gesture as natural as a waterfall current.

“carrying my princess.”

“and where to?”

“you’ll see,” he smiles secretly as he pushes open the door to his art studio. his body shields your view of the inside, not that you dare look anywhere but his angelic face— you are but a captive to the softening of his eyes, filled with unspoken adoration, for you.

he brushes the faintest kiss against your forehead, before lowering you to the ground, stepping aside quietly.

“what’s this?” you ask bewildered, as your eyes take in the new addition to his studio— a small white table with two tiny chairs on opposite sides of it, and on its surface, cinnamon candles and rose petals. but your eyes remain elsewhere, drawn to the sight of a syringe and near it, a very familiar henna paste.

“i knew you were bummed because you wouldn’t be able to put on henna,” he inches closer to you, placing his chin on the small of your shoulder. “so, i practiced.”

the breath refuses to escape your lungs, your response materializing into ropes wrapping around your throat. your next question is tinted with a child-like curiosity, but you must hear the answer stumbling from his lips.

“for me?” you say. you made time, for me? he hears.

“of course, i’d do anything for you,” he says earnestly, simply, placing a small kiss on your erratic pulse, the one that’s right beneath your jaw. your heart stops then resumes its course— it does not wish to part from your body and leave hyunjin behind.

“so,” he clears his throat, pulling you gently to your seat. “i had to do extensive research. i kept looking up designs but everything looked so cute so i asked your mom which one you’d love best.”

he lights up the candles one by one. their warmth finds a singular home within your cold soul.

“and i couldn’t let you know i was doing this, so i kept going to chan’s dorm to practice,” he fills up the syringe naturally, squeezing a bit of henna into a napkin to test it out.

“but then i needed a real life model,” he grabs your hand gently, placing it atop his warm, large palm. “so, i convinced changbin to model for me. and i had to give up terrible terrible things to get him to agree,” he whispers in horror, and you giggle, your laughter winning before your tears.

“he actually really liked it,” he smiles softly, his eyes never parting from your hand, “so i kept trying other designs on all the boys. they just wiped them quickly after so it wouldn’t stain,” he explains and you feel the knot in your throat tighten even more— it twists and twists and with it so does your heart.

it’s quiet after that, as hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together in utter concentration, as though tasked with protecting a fragile vase amidst a terrible earthquake.

he’s a vision of love as he draws delicate flower patterns on the canvas of your hand. as his tongue peeks out to press against his cheek in concentration, making sure every petal is perfectly crafted.

he’s a vision of home as his brows furrow into that distinctive expression of disdain he reserves for everything that falls short of his standards. his eyes are apologetic as they flee to yours before he quickly wipes away the design, starting over yet again.

hyunjin did not intuitively fit into your culture. he wasn’t a pair of gloves perfectly stitched after your fingers and everything they carried from back home.

but he has always tried to understand— when he scoured the city to find the best restaurant serving your native cuisine, when he spoke sentences in your language that he learned in secret. and although his tongue breaks, he tries, again and again, to understand, to get closer to you, to bridge gaps created by a past he did not exist in, so he’d know you better in a future he chose to love.

“do you like it?” he asks, and it is the nervous look on his face that breaks you— the way he fiddles with his lower lip, cheeks coated in pink, head tilting slightly to press against his shoulder blade.

your tears fall like a torrent as your free hand cradles his face, the kiss is salty as you move your lips against his own. “thank you, my angel. you are my home.”

he’d ask you again if you liked it, when he’s done drying your tears, skillfully mending the fractures in your heart. you’d say yes as your eyes take in the intricate flowers, the sheer artistry that can only spill from a soul as talented as his own.

you’ll like it more the next morning when you’ll wake up to a disheveled hyunjin, eyes puffy chasing away a clinging sleep to inspect your henna and see if it remained intact. you’ll love it when his lips will brush delicately against your palm, imprinting kisses across every inch of your tatted skin.

you’ll love it even more when he’ll draw your henna the night of your wedding, skillfully hiding his initials within the scattered petals, the very way you carry his name eternally within the chambers of your heart.

[rumunstelle]

Tired...

Warnings : None

Summary : Your sleep schedule is quite... Bad, yet you still wanted to stream. But you didn't realized you'd passed on stream...

Your a vtuber, so its expected that you'd have a busy schedule streaming, coming up with schedules, etc. So it's not surprising that you'd be tired from all the work you have...

Yet, you'd never expect to pass out ON STREAM EVEN, due to the lack of sleep... Today, you had a stream where you'd just talk to your fans and read supas and overall had a good time!

But, before you even started the stream, Shu was very concerned about you streaming today. Just by the way you were acting. You could barely keep your eyes open, you've made yourself coffee more times than he can count, you had eyebags under your eyes. Overall, you weren't in the right state to stream. Yet, you still pushed tried through.

Shu tried to stop you by telling you that you shouldn't stream today, but you didn't budge. You still wanted to stream no matter what he tells you. And with a sigh, Shu saw you fix your set up and start streaming.

After an hour of you streaming, people in your chat have noticed that you were yawning a lot and you had a lack of energy during this stream, compared to your other streams.

"[Random user] thank you for the suppa! Hi (Y/n), I've noticed that you've been yawning a lot during this stream. I'd like to ask if your ok? And how is your sleep schedule?" You read, "Oh! Well I am a bit tired and my sleep schedule... Hasn't been great, but I'll be fine, chat! Thank you for asking and caring about me!" You say reassuring your chat that your COMPLETELY fine even though your not.

After a few more minutes of you streaming, you felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. And you just... Passed out. After a few minutes of silence, your chat went CRAZY, they were so concerned of what happened to you. And Shu was watching the stream during this time, and when you went silent.

Shu immediately went to you and checked on you, realizing you passed out. Shu took over the stream for a bit. "Hello, everyone. Shu here, um... (Y/n) has to go right now. She'll read the other suppasvon the next stream. Is that ok eith you guys?" He asked, while the chat spammed that they were ok with that situation, because all their concerned with is you and what happened to you. "Ok, thank you guys for understanding. Byeeeeee!!"

Shu said as he immediately end the stream.After ending the stream, Shu immediately picked you up and took you to bed. Feeling guilty, because he didn't try hard enough to convince you not to stream. God, he feels like such a bad boyfriend...

...

After 9 hours of sleeping, your eyes fluttered open. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at Shu beside you working on something on his laptop. You immediately jolted awake and asked him, "What happened to my stream?!" You asked and Shu just looked at you and sighed. Turning of his laptop he told you, "(Y/n)... I keep telling you you shouldn't stream for a few days ok? Your not in the right state to stream right now." Shu says to you, FINALLY you agreed. And went back to sleep with your hand in his.