#he's very good at connecting with girls who could NEVER be interested in him from a romantic angle

[mythvoiced]

@wellfell | ♥

Eren's back collides with the ground almost like a man collapsing out of sheer exhaustion. There's an odd air of relief woven into the way he stares up at her, the slight smile that continues to attempt to resemble the boyish charm that accompanied him, monster-blood be damned.

Boyish charm... he IS a boy.

He even goes as far as folding his hands over his stomach, somewhat below the point her makeshift weapon was now supposedly holding him in place. He doubts he'd struggle disarming her, or even getting her onto the ground in his stead.

It's true. Akina Mori is small, not worryingly so, and she has figured out how to work it to her advantage. But Eren is not only bigger than her, he's stronger, too.

The only issue is... he's probably stronger than anybody at this point. All of his friends. He thinks about it, sometimes, when he can't sleep, when he lies on his bed, stares at his hands, and wonders how often his friends put in genuine effort to not appear scared in front of him.

It'd make sense.

He wouldn't blame them for being scared.

Sometimes he stares at his titan-hands and his mother appears in his palm, and he imagines he knows exactly what it felt like, to crush her between his fingers.

But Akina... well, he can't really tell.

This is the first time in days they've spoken, and he may not be as smart as Armin, but he can do basic maths. If what he did is two and when exactly Akina stopped talking to him was the other two, he'd figure what four was.

Maybe that's where the relief comes from... being somewhat right about Akina Mori. Refusing to acknowledge that his supposing she wouldn't let her fear allow her to lower her head beneath it, was actually the hope she wouldn't.

"Or what," he shoots back, and it would be easy to pretend. Eren has often wondered how good Akina is... at pretending. She doesn't show how intensely things get to her unless you learn how to look, unless you don't allow her to unlearn being interested in her. She fits in better than he'd have ever assumed she would have.

Similarly to Jean, he supposes. Similarly to Armin, he supposes.

Maybe he's not so good at reading people after all.

Maybe there is very little he actually knows.

Maybe this as generous as Akina is willing to be... she, or the world.

Maybe that's the point. Maybe that's the reason you are who you are and can do what you can do. Maybe you're supposed to change all those things, make the world better. Force it into becoming better, if need be.

He blinks up at Akina.

He'd never force those he loves to do terrible things for him... right?

Right?

"It's a good thing," he continues, "makes you slippery. You should continue taking advantage of it."

Since you're alive. Since you can. Since you HAVE to stay alive. I'm running out of ways to mourn, I can't keep grieving someone new every day.

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

[teddypines]

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

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Summary: Retired Price and his special hobby. Y/N being very helpfull. Retired/Pstar!Price x Wifey!Reader. Fem!reader, no age gap.

Part 2

MDNI! 18+ if you do read it i'm not responsible.

Warnings: P in V, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, use of pet names, recording of said smut.

Note: Just enjoy the little smut that came to me on a boring work day.

Words: 860

Picture/art found on Pinterest, made by @schrissdd

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Ever since Price retired from the military everything was a little different. The boys still came around often, every Saturday when not on duty, and Wifey cooked the best dinners, but he didn’t feel the same. Not even when they had more time together to do the things they wanted to do. Of course he loved it now that he was more home and got to spend time with Y/N, to get to do the normal domestic things, but something was missing, and it was not a pet or a child.

Soap once told him to try new things one Saturday night after a few beers and Price was like what the hell and did. He really did try new things, even some new things with Wifey. He went fishing, camping, they even tried one of those couple pottery classes, but nothing was scratching that itch like the military did. 

On a weird whim Price went on Reddit to get a few extra ideas from helpful people who had struggled with the same. He made an account with Wifey’s help and then just went on to make a post.The comments were mostly basic things or really silly, but a few people recommended trying new spicy things, like roleplay and some kinks. That interested Price, especially since he and Wifey never really got the time to explore, but the comment about making spicy content himself was the most interesting. 

So after a good talk with the wife, Price made himself an account on a certain spicy site. Within no time Price’s ‘channel’ The Captain got a Patreon. His content was mostly aimed at audio’s and little jerk off videos with lots and lots of dirty talk and stories. Of course with the voice that Price had this became a quick success. So he slowly expanded his content a little to more videos and occasionally Wifey joined in on the fun.

Just like now, Price is sitting back against the headboard, Wifey on top of him. There was a camera set up at the end of the bed, just so that their faces were out of frame, but enough to see every little thing Price did too Y/N. He was using Wifey as if she was one of those jerk off toy’s. Just bouncing her up and down on his cock. 

Wifey was wearing some navy blue panties that were pushed to the side near the bottom so Price’s cock could slip in and out with ease. His hands on her hips as he made sure to get every little whimper, moan and whine from his Wifey.  “That’s it sweetie. Moan for your Captain.” Price cooed to Y/N in a rough sexy voice. The one that he knew made her insides do a flutter thing. “Just like that you dirty girl.” 

Price started to fasten up the pace a little reaching a little deeper inside of Wifey. “C-Cap… Captain.” Y/N whined as Price reached deeper inside her, hitting all the right spots. “Yes, Sweetheart?” Price asked in return as he watched her breasts bounce in the reflection of the camera. “F-Feels so good.” Wifey answered as her cunt squeezed around Price’s cock, making him groan in the process. “Fuck Sweetheart, such a good girl.”

This went on for the rest of the video. Price just sweet talking as he used his wife to chase his own pleasure as she moaned and squealed around. After coming deep down Wifey and making her cum Price made sure to do aftercare, part of the video, and a way to connect and sooth Wifey after a scene. Y/N was mostly there for a self insert for the viewer, but that didn’t mean Wifey and the viewers didn’t deserve aftercare. Price kissed the side of Y/N’s head off camera. “You were so good for me, darling. such a good girl. Gonna get you some food, water and a bath ready.” Wifey hummed in answer as she cuddled up with Price.

Price turned off the camera after cuddles. He quickly cleaned himself up and took Wifey to the bathroom for her bath as he would clean the sheets and camera before getting her something to eat and drink. He took off Y/N’s panties before laying her in the bath with some of her favorite bath salts and a kiss on the head before leaving her alone. Price changed the sheets, putting them in the laundry with their clothes and took the camera to his office. He would edit and upload the video later. For now he had to take care of his Wifey, making her feel good after their adventure. 

A week later Price uploaded the video, a shorter one for free on all platforms and the full version on Patreon for the higher paying members. The video was called ‘Playing with the wife ;)’ with a little description saying, ‘Wifey wanted to be adventurers again she can’t get enough of her Captain’s cock.’ Wifey however didn’t like the title or the description, but she did love doing these things with Price. Seeing him enjoy his hobby made her happy too, even if it was an unusual hobby.

[banj0possum]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[i9messi]

Sweet — Ollie Bearman

You have a blind date in a coffee shop, but you sit at the wrong table and end up on a date with a guy who has a smile that lights up his whole face.

Word count — 1,2k

note —okay, so my little crush on Ollie is getting bigger now. More stories coming soon!

MASTERLIST

You were practically running on the streets. You were late for your date with a guy you actually didn’t know. And you were so worried about causing a bad first impression.

It all started when your best friend insisted you meet a friend of a friend. You had never seen him before and didn’t know anything about him, only that his name was Oliver and you apparently shared things in common.

You were in such a hurry to get there, that when you saw a guy sitting alone at a table, you thought he was your date. You started to walk in his direction, while smiling. He paid attention to you, looking at where you were.

“Oliver?”

He nodded. If you hadn’t been so distracted you would have noticed something was wrong, as the way he was looking at you with confusion.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

His eyes were brown and his brunette hair was a little messy, as if he had passed his hands several times for his hair.

“Sorry for being late— my best friend got the time mixed up and told me we had to meet later. But I spoke to her again and then she told me it was earlier. Sorry to keep you waiting, Oliver.”

There was a strange silence. You thought he was angry or pissed off but a couple of seconds later, he smiled nicely.

“No problem, really. I already ordered my coffee, I hope that didn’t bother you.”

“Oh, no worries.”

“By the way, my friends call me Ollie.”

He smiled at you and you smiled at him. Maybe it was too fast to make statements, but you could already sense that he was a kind person. There was something in his generous smile and look that invited you to want to share your time with him.

“Nice to meet you, Ollie.”

You introduced yourself, just in case he forgot your name or if your friend had not told him.

"Oh, sit, please."

Ollie got up from his seat and moved the chair you were sitting in, like a gentleman.

“Thank you, Ollie.”

While you were giving him a look, a staff member came up and you made an order. When the coffee came to you and you started sipping, you filled the silence.

“Your face sounds familiar, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

He had a pretty face and a boyish look. You swore that his face had appeared on TV, or maybe on your social media, but you couldn’t remember where.

“Maybe your friend once showed you a picture of me and that’s why my face sounds familiar, I guess.”

“That may be.”

He nodded, “In my case, you took me by surprise.”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I hope it’s a good surprise, not a bad one.”

”You’re a very good surprise, I swear.”

You took another sip of your coffee, while Ollie looked into your eyes. You spoke again, only because he seemed to hesitate to ask you something.

"What do you do for a living?"

“I work with cars.”

“Oh, are you a mechanic?”

He smiled lazily, and corrected himself.

“My job is to drive cars.”

“So you’re an Uber driver.”

Ollie tried to hold back a laugh and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. Sorry. I’m an Uber driver, you're right.”

There was something suspicious but you didn't want to be too curious.

When the awkward conversation ended, he was interrupted by a call from a friend. You encouraged him to answer, even when he didn't want to bother you.

“Kimi? I'm busy right now— I'm on a date. Yes, with a girl. What surprises you? I'm on a date with a real person.”

He listened to his friend, then Ollie talked again.

“Oh, shut up. Goodbye.”

You tried so hard to not laugh, but you failed miserably.

“What? He was being annoying.”

“He was interested in our date, I think.”

“Is he the friend of my friend? The one who connected us?”

He seemed hesitant, but then he said no. “No, that's my other friend.”

Minutes later both of you talked about your lives, about things you liked and about everything you could think of. Ollie was an attentive person, someone you could talk to for hours.

It was so nice to be by his side that when you noticed the coffee shop was ready to close, you felt a little sad.

“It's time to go, I guess.”

“I could walk you home,” he offered.

“Sure? I don't want to bother you, Ollie.”

“I insist.”

You agreed, and you walked by his side. His hand brushed yours for a brief moment and both of you felt warm in your cheeks. Blushed and silly, neither Ollie or you said a thing. But to be fair, both wanted to know what It would feel to hold hands.

Your house was close to the coffee shop so when you stopped in your doorway, he stopped too.

"This was nice,” he said, his gaze looking at you. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, he seemed to not know what to do next.

So you took the next step.

“We can kiss, Ollie.”

You really wanted to finish your date with a kiss, he seemed special. He was not like the other dudes you spent your time on dates, most of them only thought with their dicks. He treated you correctly, he listened to you and he was attentive. And he was attractive, he was gorgeous. Beautiful to see.

“I was hoping you said that but I need to confess something first.”

Okay, now you were worried. What if he had a girlfriend?

“I lied.”

“You lied about what?”

“I'm not the Oliver you were looking for.”

“That makes no sense. Ollie, what are you talking about?”

He came a step close to you.

“I am not the Oliver you were having a date with. I was in the coffee shop waiting for a friend but a couple of minutes before you came, he said he couldn't come. It was Kimi, the guy who talked with me on the phone. When you came and talked with me, I froze.”

Then it all started to make sense. He had told you that it was a surprise to find you there. Ollie hadn’t expected you to show up and tell him you were late for your date, because in first place, he was not part of the date.

“You lied.”

“I lied because I didn't want to miss a chance to meet a beautiful girl like you. I apologize, honestly.”

He looked at you, with worry.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I'm not. I'm just… confused, because I really enjoyed our date.”

“I enjoyed our date too, and I really want to repeat it.”

You couldn't be angry with him, not with his puppy eyes.

“Are you going to lie next time?”

“No, I promise you. I'm not going to lie to you anymore.”

“Okay, Ollie. I'm not angry with you, I honestly think that maybe it was good to cross paths. Maybe the other Oliver was a dick.”

He smiled full of happiness, “Poor Oliver.”

“Instead I met you.”

“I could not ask for a better thing.”

You were so close, only millimeters separated you from him. He smelled so good.

“When can we meet again?”

“First kiss me, then we can schedule or date.”

And so he did, he come closer to you and his lips joined yours.

Next thing you knew was that he drove race cars.

[straylightdream]

don’t blame me

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: xu minghao x stripper!f.reader

I would cross the line. I would waste my time. I would lose my mind. They say, "She's gone too far this time."

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, sugar daddy au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut warning below.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the Taylor swift song of the same name Let me know if you’re interested in any other boys stories mentioned in this. You can also fill out this form helping me pick songs for the other boys. here. The rest or the boys stories will be in my svt m.list.

here is my SVT taglist if you’re interested being add please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex (mc is on birth control), choking, lingerie kink, hand job, stripping for money, talks of exchanging sex for money. Body worship, slut shaming (not by minghao), possessive hao, pussy whipped hao, creampie, mention of getting someone pregnant, named: baby, daisy

Loving him made you feel like you were going insane. He made you feel things no other man had ever made you feel before. Things with him were absolutely intoxicating. He pushed you to things out of your comfort zone.

You broke every rule you had ever had before you met Xu Minghao. The number one rule you broke was, never fall for a client. Stripping wasn’t something you had always planned on doing. It just fell into your lap when you were down on your luck and broke. Since you started taking your clothes off for money you don’t have to worry about things that used to make you lose sleep at night. You don’t have to worry about affording rent or putting food on the table. You’re able to fully support yourself. You’re good at your job and you know how to make men spend their money on you.

Everything you knew was flipped upside down when a beautiful man named Minghao paid for a private room. From the very first hello you knew you were fucked.

What should have been a one time thing turned into him being one of your regulars. After your first show with him he popped up the following week and from there he just kept coming back.

You weren’t the only one who felt a connection. Minghao often told you how fascinating he found you. He loved getting to talk to you. The first few times he visited you kept it very professional. After a while he would spend big money to get you in a private room just so he could talk. He loved learning things about you. He was one of the only people in the building who knew your real name. He didn’t know you as “Ivy” your stage name. It didn’t take long for your visit to turn into more than just talking. The first time you kissed you felt like butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.

Often you would find yourself sitting on his lap topless just making out. You had no problem kissing him and dry humping him until you thought you might go insane but you told him you couldn’t have sex with him at work. You refused to have sex with him if money is involved.

“Do you actually like me daisy girl?” He refused to call you ivy. He says you remind him more of a daisy.

“Minghao,” you sigh with your forehead resting against his.

“Is that a yes?” His hands run up and down your bare sides

“Obviously.” You pull back, giving him a smile.

“Go out with me.” You don’t say anything, you just stare at him. You want to date him so badly but you know your job will always complicate things.

“What happens if I say yes?”

“I wait until you’re off at two and then I take you out to eat.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer we go out one day when I haven't worked. I'm either going to be covered in stage makeup or I’m going to be bare faced.” You didn’t really feel like putting on a different face of makeup to go out tonight.

“Baby I think you’re beautiful anyway you look,” he leans in and presses his lips to yours again. “It doesn’t have to be tonight. When can you be off?”

“I make my own schedule. I don’t have to work any day I don’t want to.” You know Minghao is serious about you and he isn’t just trying to play a game.

He rested his hand on your cheek, “you can tell me no, but I want to ask you something.”

“Ask away,” you smile.

“How about I take you out tonight? We can just get a late night dinner. It will stay fully innocent, but if you enjoy my company you pack a bag and you stay with me for a little while.”

“How long?”

“As long as you want to stay.”

Things between you changed forever that night. You finished up your private room with Minghao at midnight and you agreed for him to pick you up after work. He said goodbye and told you he had a few things to do and after work he wasn’t lying when he said he would be waiting outback for you. You found him sitting in an extremely expensive black sports car.

The first dinner you shared was nice. It was wonderful getting to fully know Minghao outside of the club setting. Your night stayed fully innocent outside of a kiss goodnight outside your front door.

Things with you and Minghao drastically changed that night. You weren’t officially together but it was clear that you were his and he was yours. You took him up on his offer and took a week off of work and just stayed with him.

Your first night in his expensive penthouse was your first time you ever slept with him. Something about Minghao always made you assume he was dominant in bed and you weren’t exactly wrong, but he was much more gentle with you then you thought he would be. You quickly learned that he loves having you lingerie during sex. He bought you so much expensive lace for you to wear. His favorite is crotchless panties. He’s bought you many pairs. He asks for you to wear them whenever you can.

Your nights of the club have started slowly going down. It was rare before that you would work less than six days a week, but since you often started staying at Minghao’s house more often than your own you now only work two days a week.

Since things changed with you and Minghao he still comes in occasionally, but not as frequently as before. You feel guilty now when he pays for a private room. He won’t take no for an answer when you tell him he doesn’t have to pay for your time now.

-

Laying on his bed I’m nothing but a pair of black lace crotchless panties, you spread your legs wide exposing your already drenched pussy. “Touch yourself for me.” Silently you do as you say. “My daisy, what do I have to do to get you to quit your job?” He’s asked you this on multiple occasions but every time you tell him you can’t quit.

You slide your fingers through your wet folds. Rubbing your clit causing a soft moan to leave your lips. He stands at the edge of the bed still dressed in nothing but his dress pants watching you play with yourself.

“I need the money,” it’s not a lie. You’ve given yourself a very comfortable lifestyle by stripping.

“Let me take care of you baby,” he is intently watching you.

“I don’t exchange sex for money.”

“We wouldn’t be exchanging sex for money,” he says quickly.

“What would we be doing?” You pull your hands away from your wet core.

“I would be taking care of you and supporting you, and all I ask is for you to be open to falling in love.” He’s a fool if he doesn’t realize you’re already head over heels in love with him. It's been almost two months since you first got dinner together and you are indeed in love with him.

“Are you going to be my sugar daddy?” You’ve been tempted to try and find one in the past but you weren’t exactly keen on sleeping with an older man for money.

“I’m not an old man paying for your time. I’m thinking more of: I'm your boyfriend and I pay for you.”

“My boyfriend?” You arch your eyebrow at him.

“Do you not want something more with me than this game we seem to be playing?” You’re tired of whatever this is. You want to openly be able to love him.

“You better not break my heart.”

“I would never.” He unbuckles his pants and removes them and boxers leaving him standing at the foot of his bed fully naked.

“How are you going to explain to people your girlfriend is a slut?” You need to ask him. He needs to be prepared for what people will say about him being with you.

“Don’t call yourself that,” he says flatly. “You aren’t a slut, and I never want to hear you say that again.”

“What am I then?” He crawls over you. He pins your hands above your head.

“My daisy. You’re my daisy.” If you weren’t in love, you would be now. You’re speechless and don’t even know how to respond to him.

“I like the sound of that,” you whisper, leaning up.

He pulls away from you and sits back with his back against his expensive headboard. “Come here baby.”

You crawl over to him. Sitting on his thighs you start to pump his already hard dick. His lips slightly part as he inhaled little breaths. You've learned all the ways to make him fall apart. Focusing on the sensitive head that is already leaking precum. His hand massages your breast. He earns a moan when he tweaks your nipple.

“Have I told you I love you today?” he asked, finally speaking.

“I think so,” you can’t help but smile.

You continue pumping his length as his hands travel your body. One rest on your throat. He slowly applies pressure as you close your eyes. “I don’t want to share you with anyone else anymore.” Your eyes flutter open and you can tell how serious he is. “I want you to just be my daisy. Let me take care of you fully.” His hand still lingers on your throat, but no longer applying pressure.

“You’re gonna get bored of me. Men normally like the idea of me, but find me hard to love.” You last few relationships were disasters. Only one of them fully knew about your job, and the amount of time you would get into fights and he would call you a slut and throw your career in your face.

“You are not hard to love. I love you.” You often question what you did to deserve a man like Xu Minghao to love you.

“I love you too,” it’s rare you repeat those words back to him. You’re helplessly in love with him, but you still can’t be scare you’re going to get hurt. You’ve broke all your rules for him. Falling for him made you feel like you were going crazy, but that’s maybe how love is supposed to feel.

Without saying anything else you lift your hips. He realizes what you’re doing and helps slide his cock towards your welcoming pussy. Slowly you slide down his length. His hand still rests on your throat applying pressure every so often. One of your hands hold his jaw, keeping his looking right at you. You’re not normally rough with him, but you’re lost in a haze of desire.

“I only ever want to fuck you,” your moans are high pitched. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“I don’t want anyone to ever touch you,” his hand dips down between you and starts playing with your clit while you ride him. “I’m going to take care of you and I’m going to fuck you so good you can’t think straight.” You love when he gets like this.

“I’m so wet for you-“ you ride him like your life depends on it. His hand never leaves your throat continuously applying pressure.

Leaning back your hands rest on his thighs behind you. Moving your hips at a quick pace.

“Fuck-“ you moan.

“Your pussy was made for me,” he moans.

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Silently he accepts your plea. He pulls you closer to him by your throat. He releases his hold as your lips crash together.

“I wanna cum,” you whine with your lips ghosting his.

“Cum baby.”

Your orgasm washes over you with a blinding hot heat. Closing your eyes you lean forward and stop moving your hips. Minghao holds your hips and helps you continue to ride him while he chases his own high.

“Fuck-“ he moans as he paints your walls white. He doesn't think he has ever came that much in his life. If you weren’t on birth control he would be worried about getting you pregnant.

Pulling back slowly you sit up with him still snugly inside of you. The blissed expression on his face is absolutely beautiful. “I’ll quit stripping, but you have to promise me that you won’t break my heart.”

The smile that tugs at his lips makes your heart instantly swell. “I won’t ever break your heart.”

The two things you have learned about being in love is that sometimes you just have to trust the person who is in love with you. If you love someone sometimes it’s okay to break all your own rules.

@minghaosimp @kpoplover-19

[virtualflowerbatathlete]

Weird opinion nobody asked me for:

Several things can be true at once when talking about Leo’s arc in HOO regarding romance.

NO, Leo did not need to resolve his self esteem issues and insecurities before he started dating. You don’t have to be fully mentally healthy to date someone or be in love (Look at Percabeth! Both of them were a mess when they started dating, but they grow together.) The implication that you need to be fully recovered from any mental illness or trauma before being “allowed” to date is a dangerous one.

BUT it was incredibly disheartening to watch these insecurities lead Leo to being in a relationship where he is not as happy as he hoped he would be, and even in some cases, being abused by a girlfriend who seems almost ashamed to be associated with Leo at all. Calypso’s irritation and snipes at Leo don’t feel at all like when couples like Percabeth or Solangelo tease each other. When Percabeth and Solangelo tease each other, there’s an undercurrent of genuine affection, and also a sense that the two are on even footing in the relationship; Nico can call Will his “significant annoyance,” and Will can call Nico his “little ball of darkness.” Annabeth calls Percy “Seaweed Brain,” and he can call her “Wise Girl.” But there is no even footing with Caleo. Leo is so desperate to make things work with her that he won’t fire back when Calypso insults his interests or personality. The relationship is volatile and imbalanced, and honestly, that feels like a far more tragic ending for Leo than him being single at the end of HOO.

ALSO it was fully possible for Leo to have an arch where he realizes that he doesn’t need romance to be happy, and later getting into a romantic relationship. (Hell, it could even happen in the same book) I deeply resent the takes where people somehow see both these things as mutually exclusive. As an example of this, over time, I learned that grades don’t define who I am, and that I can build my self worth outside of them. That doesn’t mean that I have to give up on getting good grades entirely. What that does mean is that I focus more on learning the material for my own benefit than trying to get the highest score, and strangely enough, my grades started going up. In the case of Leo, a character arc where he learned to love himself and not need a romantic relationship doesn’t mean that he would stop looking for one. Instead, he would seek meaningful connections with the people around him, one of which could bloom into a romantic relationship.

ALSO it would be fully possible for Leo to have this arc while in a romantic relationship with someone. While a partner can’t “fix” you, the people we love can open doors for us to learn and grow. Hell, in the books, we see this demonstrated with Leo and Jason. Leo confides an insecurity, and Jason challenges this insecurity. This causes Leo to think, and thus to grow. Yes, they were not canonically romantic, but my point still stands that this isn’t necessarily a journey Leo would need to do alone. He could have had a romantic partner who helped in his journey of learning to love himself.

ALSO the desire Rick, and by some extension we (the fandom) had in HOO to pair every single character off with their “perfect match” is one that should be questioned. I think that Rick and the fandom have come a long way, and I think TOA really played around with this concept in a very interesting way. But the strange implication I sometimes see is that Leo having no romantic partner must mean that it’s an unsatisfying arc. As an aroace person, the implication that life and stories are only satisfying if the person involved ends up with a romantic partner is disheartening.(I say this as a Valgrace shipper) If your first instinct when hearing a character is single or learning to love being single is to go, “OH GOD, THEY’RE ALL ALONE AND WILL NEVER BE HAPPY! THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN FOR THEM!” Maybe, it’s time to examine the implications behind those thoughts.

ALSO shipping is fun and not that serious. If you like a ship, go for it. This is not me telling you not to ship Leo with anyone, as I said, I’m a huge Valgrace fan.

Anywho, if you want more extensive thoughts on Calypso, lemme know. Also feel free to add, I’m sure there’s even more nuance to talk about

[peeweekey]

Sebastian likes frogs. Emphasis on the word likes.

He appreciates them, they do good for the environment. They eat up all the nasty flies that buzz around the mountain lake, too. He doesn’t have to worry about mosquitos snaking on his blood while he smokes. It’s just a plus that he finds them cool and interesting.

Which most people find weird. Sebastian thinks it’s weird that they find it weird. Frogs aren’t going out of their way to bother people.

Yes, he likes them. They’re his favorite animal, certainly.

But favorite is not enough for him to want to smooch a frog.

“Sam, I’m not gonna fucking kiss a frog.”

“C’mon! It’ll be like the movie!” Sam teases, insistently shoving Sebastian to the frog innocently sitting on a park bench. “Who knows, maybe it’ll be your very own froggy princess—”

“Didn’t the girl turn into a frog when she kissed it,” he shoots back, elbowing Sam backwards in the gut. The blond lets out an overdramatic hiss of pain, bent over and clutching his stomach. “Abby, back me up here.”

“I never watched that stuff,” Abigail shrugs, watching with amusement. She makes no move to help at all, comfortably resting against the wide wooden posts of a fence. “Watched a lotta cartoons though. Phineas and Ferb is my jam.”

“Not about the movie,” Sebastian grits exasperatedly. His brows knitting together in frustration “The frog.”

“Mhm, go on,” a cheshire-like grin on her face. “Kiss it, Seb. A big smooch right on its slimy mouth.”

Sam eggs him on, the pain of being elbowed magically disappearing. “Do it! Do it!”

Sebastian presses his lips tightly together. There’s no use resisting once Abby and Sam band together. They’re a force to be reckoned with like this—demanding and overbearing. Sebastian exasperatedly wipes a hand over his face, shooting the poor frog a sorry look.

Sam pushes him one more time, he gives him a stony glare in return. “Fuck—alright! Stop being so damn loud, you’ll scare it away.”

The frog in question croaks slightly, like it senses the trio talking about it. He gives it a wary glance.

As he slowly approaches, Sebastian can hear Abby and Sam’s satisfied sniggering behind him. They roped him into doing another stupidly outrageous thing for the umpteenth time.

He sighs, he really needs better friends.

Mustering up all his courage, he bends down, almost eye level with the frog, resting a hand on the wooden grain bench on where it’s perched upon.

He screws his eyes shut and goes for it.

Sebastian’s lips connect with the frog’s slimy, almost rough skin. So fast and featherlight that it can barely be considered a kiss. Cold against his lips. He pulls back immediately after, wiping any residue off his lips with the back of his hand.

The frog jumps, croaking with,what he assumes is, alarm.

“See?” Abby laughs, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. “No princess in sight. You didn’t turn into a frog either!”

“Man,” Sam snickers, patting him roughly on the back. Sebastian groans with every smack. “It would’ve been cool though, if you turned into a frog. We’d have a frog drummer in our band!”

Sebastian shoves his unruly friends off. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s get going. The frog is probably traumatized.”

“You can check that off your bucket list,” Abby teases, a smirk playing on her lips. “Kiss a frog before I die. We’ll tell the story for generations.”

Sam howls with laughter, Sebastian feels absolutely mortified.

Before the trio could make any move out of the park, a cloud of green smoke curtains the frog, so thick and so unusual. Sebastian unconsciously backs away from it.

“What—woah,” Sam says, more mezmerised than shocked at the green smoke pouring out of the frog Sebastian kissed. “What is that?”

“The fuck if we know, Sam!”

“Boys, boys, shut the fuck up. Look.”

Abigail points at the fog. It grows and grows, stopping and dissipating once the whole bench is covered with the green mist.

The frog is gone—disappeared into thin air. Instead, a not-so-frog shaped person sits. You blink up at Sebastian slowly.

Woah, woah.

He feels his heart accelerating—for all the wrong reasons. An unusual thumping sound that vibrates all throughout his body—his fingertips, his stomach, his toes. Where there should be fear and panic and definitely fear, Sebastian feels exhilaration.

You’re pretty.

It’s also pretty horrifying for him to think—and feel.

You blink slowly—a frog-like trait that cement his suspicions. You’re staring up at him as he stares back down at you, curious meets bewildered. “…”

His eyes are wide, scanning each and every part of your now not frog-like features. Sebastian feels cold sweat dripping down his forehead—a stark temperature difference to the heat in his cheeks. “Oh—oh shit.”

“Uhm… ribbit?”

-

Another thing he blames on Sam and Abby—his horrifying attraction you; the person, not the frog.

He checks that off his metaphorical bucket list, too.

[julesinsummer]

like a moth to a flame - theodore nott

theodore nott x fem!reader | angst | in which theodore is everything he wishes he wasn't and wants the one thing he knows he cannot have

cold. subdued. emotionless. complex.

theodore was nothing if he was not written off as a loner, a nobody in a crowd of dazzling faces. he didn't amaze crowds with his beauty, or even particularly stand out among the people he'd been raised with.

theodore was nothing if he was not a disappointment to his father.

nott sr. was an impatient man, insolent and violent at times. he was fiercely loyal to his master, his lord above all else. when his master ordered his wife, a bride taken from another land to wed at an age far too apart from his to die, he did it. he did it without hesitation, without mercy, and without the thought of doing it away from his young son's eyes.

theodore was nothing after he watched his father brutally slaughter his mother in their drawing room. he was ten at the time.

it was that moment, he thinks, that he became who he was.

cold. subdued. emotionless. complex.

nott sr. ensured no emotion was shown from his boy. his heir, his only living relation, and his only chance at continuing the hate he'd been bred to feel.

it was in his bones, that hate. and it simmered and boiled over when he realized that hate did not grow in his young son's.

theodore was born to be sensitive. he was born to be an academic, with a wit like no other and a knack for knowing just what to do. he was born to be a good person, a person with solid morals and a fond eye for adventure.

but he never could be any of those things, could he? voldemort didn't like academics. he didn't like people who were smarter, witter, and brighter than him. he didn't like restless children who always wanted to know more.

and true to his nature, nott sr. began to hate everything that theodore truly was. he was determined to kill it and burn it to the ground, determined to shape him into a near mirror image of himself.

and once he was beaten down enough, mentally and physically, theodore began to relent. his father wanted cold, subdued, emotionless, and complex.

theodore became all he was meant to be in his father's eyes.

hogwarts became his only reprieve from the monstrous horrors that awaited him at nott manor. he felt comfort in the cold, stone walls of the slytherin dungeon. he would sit and watch the black lake on occasion, lounging lazily in an armchair moved to the precise position to catch the best view.

he felt a deep connection to the feelings of the giant squid that inhabited the lake. he too was trapped in a body of water, unable to move very far or do very much without being watched or being scrutinized. he felt that they were very alike.

sometimes his friends would join him to watch the window. draco took the most interest of all of them, much preferring theo's company to anyone else's. he'd known him since his birth, after all. they were as good as brothers, if you'd believe it.

theo was quiet while draco was loud. theo was meticulous and analytical while draco felt and felt and felt some more. they balanced and complimented each other nearly perfectly.

draco often wished he could save theo one day. save him from his father, from the life he'd been forced into. it was impossible of course, with nott sr. and lucius malfoy being brothers in a purely fraternal organization with the same goal in mind.

theo was grateful for draco's constant presence. he appreciated his thoughts and how he was comfortable just existing alongside theo.

draco began being interested in girls around fourth year. he could have any girl he fancied. he was an attractive boy, with sharp features and piercing grey eyes. theo wished many times he could understand what it was like to like someone, anyone, in a way more than just friendship.

it was hard for theo to even maintain his friendships most times. he was often afraid that his father would use them as leverage against him, or even worse, that the dark lord would make a point to have them killed in front of his eyes.

it was the yule ball that gave theodore even more reason to be terrified. even more reason to be a cold, subdued, emotionless, complex human.

he wore his finest, sent over from italy at the request of his father. he knew he was a handsome boy and knew why girls wanted him to be their date. he also knew why he couldn't and why he wouldn't let himself feel anything other than apathy towards them.

at least, he did. until he saw her.

she was dressed in the finest gown he'd ever seen, silk and shining under the enchanted lights in the great hall. her hair was styled perfectly, shaping her face in a way that had to be considered art. her makeup was complimentary to her face, not cakey and overdone like pansy's, or little to nothing like astoria's.

she was perfection personified, and he didn't even know her name.

"what are you looking at, mate?" draco asked with a slight laugh, trying to trace the line of sight theodore had locked onto.

"she's beautiful," theo breathed out timidly, his brain nothing but static as he stared at her. she gracefully spoke to her friends, a glass of punch in her hand as if she'd been raised to be the center of society.

draco eyed her meticulously, studying the human figure theodore was so entranced by. "y/n?"

theo looked at draco, shrugging, suddenly missing the sight that he'd been so focused on moments before.

"she's quite beautiful," draco agreed, sipping from the glass in his hand. he tipped it towards her direction, "a pureblood, too, i assume. she's too graceful to not have practiced this."

theo once again turned his attention to her figure. he was completely and utterly entranced by her, a feeling like none he'd ever felt before at the sight of a stranger. she turned around at that moment, her eyes sweeping the great hall before landing on his. she studied him for a moment, a small smile on her lips. she gave a polite and small wave of her fingers in his direction, her eyes never leaving his.

"oh god," theo breathed out, feeling as though all the air from his lungs had disappeared. she turned back around to her friends, seemingly laughing and joking around.

draco chuckled, putting a hand on theo's shoulder. "she didn't come with a date," he informed him, "so the option is there for you."

theo shook his head rapidly. "you know why i can't do that."

"i know," draco conceded, his expression falling as the weight of theodore's position settled in his heart.

theo spent the rest of the night sneaking subtle stares her way, eyeing her as she danced happily and laughed with her friends. he felt pangs of jealousy strike his chest when other boys asked her to dance. at the same time, he felt immensely relieved when she turned them all down.

it was the best night he'd ever had, in his mind.

it was fifth year before he saw her again. this time he spotted her in arithmancy sitting at the table beside his own. she sat with astoria and daphne, a slytherin green tie adorned around her neck. theodore wondered how he'd never seen her before the ball or after.

maybe it was better that way. if he didn't see anything he wanted, he could still be cold and subdued and emotionless and complex.

he was lost in thought during the lesson, his mind everywhere but in the classroom when he caught her looking at him. he locked eyes with her in an instant, almost out of instinct.

her eyes could draw him in and push him out like the tides, he thought. he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

she looked away as professor vector gazed upon the class once more. theodore felt the loss.

it went on like that for a few more weeks, with her catching his eyes during class, staring at each other with more intensity than theodore ever thought possible, and then turning away before they were caught. theodore didn't like it one bit.

he wanted more. he needed more.

he was like a moth to a flame just from her glances, wanting so badly to be close to her, to be close to something he could not have.

it was near all hallow's eve when he heard her speak for the first time.

she walked up to him in the library where he sat alone in a corner that was so unused that dust and cobwebs had taken over all flat surfaces and corners. he felt safe there, away from the rest of humanity. from the rest of his life.

"i like your eyes," she said to him, quietly but with a strength and fierceness that could not be more evident. she stood lengths away from him, her arms crossed lazily over her chest and her head cocked to the side. her hair fell around her face perfectly, enhancing the already ethereal beauty she contained in her body.

theo stared at her for a few moments, probably more than he should've. he considered going mute at that moment and saving him the trouble of what even speaking to her would start.

"i like yours, too," he finally told her, quiet and low as his tone usually was. he was a monotonous creature, something he was reminded of daily.

she smiled and theo felt his world crumble around him. he was falling down a pit he'd sworn never to fall down, the one that showed who he really was. the pit full of sensitivity, feeling, and everything he truly was made to be. the pit reminded him of his mother and all the ways she'd imprinted her very soul upon his.

she nodded and pushed her hair away from her eyes where it had fallen. she stood silent for a moment after that. when she did speak, theo knew it was full of quiet contemplation and consideration.

"i don't think you are who you try to be," she stated with finality. "and i would like to get to know the real you. not the cold and closed off bullshit persona you put on."

theodore nott was nothing if he wasn't acting. but in that moment, all of her words struck him in his proverbial achilles heel. in that moment, theo didn't feel like a failure. he didn't feel like a disgrace or a disappointment to his father. he didn't feel like the theodore nott he'd played for so long.

he felt seen.

theo took many deep breaths before he answered. he figured at that moment that y/n could be the most patient person he'd ever encountered. she held his eyes with a ferocity that would rival even the most courageous of lions and a determination that put all snakes to shame.

"you don't want that responsibility," he finally spoke, his words full of emotions he couldn't quite name, but ones he felt in the very depths of his soul. his hands had begun to shake.

y/n sat next to him in a dusty, ancient armchair. "i don't shy away from a challenge," she laughed timidly, "and i find that i'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame."

"moths will die if they touch the flame," he responded immediately, his face devoid of any named emotion.

y/n chuckled and touched theo's hand gently. "only if they're stupid enough to run into it."

theodore only bared his very soul to one person in his life. y/n was true to her word and refused to back down from his challenge. eventually, she was rewarded with theodore nott. he was sensitive and an academic, a witty, bright, intelligent boy who felt everything and loved fiercely and without a second thought. he was adventurous and fun and y/n loved him with a determination that was almost impossible.

theodore nott was once again cold, subdued, emotionless, and complex after the battle of hogwarts. his side had lost and the mark he'd taken on his left forearm to appease his father and protect the love he wanted and needed forever was fading.

he vowed to be everything his father wanted him to be after the battle. after he'd seen his only remaining family slaughtered at what he thought to be his safe haven. after he saw her, beautifully effervescent and ethereal, laid on the ground in a way that was so poetically tragic.

she'd died at the hands of his father and quickly thereafter, nott sr. was dead at the hands of his own son.

it wasn't long after the battle that theodore himself lost himself completely.

draco had found him, cold and lifeless in nott manor with only the bottles of firewhisky around him to blame.

draco knew in his heart that he could never have saved theodore from the end he was sure to meet. it didn't make it any easier.

-

this is my first piece of writing on here and i hope you enjoy it! i swear i can write happier things, but this has been on my mind for a while so i decided to get it out!

reblogs and notes very much appreciated!!!

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny may i have a pull-apart bread and fried dough on the house for toto wolff please !!

bakery menu!!

want to submit your own fic? then hit up the menu! i'd love to see what you have in mind! thank you for all those who have submitted, i am working bit by bit to get them all done!!! for the virginity plot, i switched a bit of the wording around. rather than toto taking the reader's virginity, the reader makes the move and asks him (i hope that's okay)!! please enjoy this toto fic :3

pull-apart bread ("i love you") + fried dough ("i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours.") + on the house (lemon water: university/college au)

cw: smut/pwp, student!reader, history professor!toto, virgin!reader, age gap (20/50), intimacy, gentle sex, pull out method, a sweet fic

toto wolff, head of the history department was a total flirt. his classes were the kind where young women would take them to get a glimpse of him. his open lectures usually drew crowds of students who wanted to see him speak about his vast knowledge of history. while his topic of interest was the history of motorsports, it wouldn't make a compelling class. so he found comfort in european history past the cold war. he liked history that was fresh and new.

exciting and younger than him. that also extended to the women he kept company.

while toto loved the students who'd come up in flattering skirts and blouses with the buttons a little open. he loved to flip up skirts and fuck like his life depended on it. but they could never get his fix the way he could with you. no you were special, perfect. you were perfect for him.

while he usually had to fuck the other girls. with you, he was fine with enjoying other forms of intimacy. when you told him that you were a virgin he couldn't very well take it from you on the first date. he wanted to be almost tender with you. be sweet and kind to you, show you what a real man is like. and while he thought it would be a short game before he either got bored or you eventually had sex.

however, he liked it. he liked the tenderness. girls your age went for men like him to fill the gap their absent fathers left. but you, surprisingly had a good relationship with your father. you liked being with toto because you felt connected to him.

"i know this sounds stupid, but i was always called an old soul!" you wanted to shyly cover your face, "i know, i know!" and before you could hide away from your comment, toto pressed a kiss on your lips.

he could taste the sugar from your iced coffee on your lips. you jumped back, not wanting anyone to see. but at this hour, no one was around. you worried, and toto found it endearing.

it would take almost two months of dates for you to work up the courage to ask toto to have sex with you. the older man was simply being so sweet that it almost made you feel bad for waiting so long.

you were at his home on a sunny saturday near the end of fall semester. you two were going to have dinner and you felt it was the right time to ask him. to go for the kill, as he said. he was making you some tea before you got comfortable to work on your final assignments for the semester.

with his back turned to you, you said, "toto.."

"yes, schatzi." he replied.

"how do i say this. this is going to sound so dumb.." you swallowed, "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want you to take mine." you said nervously as you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

he tensed up for a moment and looked over at you, his dark eyes peered towards you. the kettle finished boiling as he asked, "are you certain?"

and you nodded, "certain as i'll ever be." then gave him a small smile. toto put the mug he was going to give you down and turned fully towards you. he went to you at the kitchen island and reached out for your shoulder. you looked at him and said, "toger, please."

he chuckled before he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, "of course, my beautiful." he had believed it was love, that you were meant to be with him.

you giggled a little and got up from your seat. you wrapped your arms around the older man and said, "don't worry too much, you'll get lines." the stuck your tongue out at him.

he laughed, "schatzi, i am double your age. i think i already have lines." then kissed the top of your head. he took you by the hand and brought you to the bedroom.

there had been more than enough occasions where you two slept, while you never had sex. you'd usually cuddle up with him while he read in bed, eventually resulting in you falling asleep.

you slowly got undressed once you were in the bedroom. the hands of your lover all over you. it made you squirm with want. his broad, strong hands up against your delicate sides. it wasn't hard for him to make you feel so small compared to him.

his kisses were soft, but you knew they were a bit hungry. he had been wanting this despite his attempts to be a gentleman. one could only take so much before they yearned for more. and toto yearned for you deeply. it was like the pulse under his skin. your laugh, your knowledge of history, how you fit so well next to him when he held you close to his chest.

once naked, you cautiously sat on the bed. you wanted to cover up, feeling a little shy about your naked body. but you had to have some confidence if your first time was going to go well. toto got undressed and your eyes lingered on him. you felt excited.

you had seen him shirtless before, even in nothing but underwear. but, this felt different. and the difference caused excitement to course through you. once he was naked, you blushed at the sight of his erect cock.

"is that because of me?" you asked as toto approached.

he chuckled a little, "of course it is. it's been because of you for the last few months." he captured your chin in his grasp and you giggled a little. you felt the excitement run through you.

you tried to lean up to him to give him a kiss and he met you halfway. soon toto was in the bed with you and you were laid out on the sheets with your head on the pillows.

toto's hands grazed your body and admired your beauty. you drew him in like a heat during a cold winter. your love warmed him. it almost made him want to utter the words, "i love you." but he didn't want to scare you off. but as he got between your legs and leaned in to pepper your heated skin with kisses, the urge to say those words only grew in his chest.

he was your professor, a mentor and teacher. and while he taught you deeply about the intricacies of european history and beyond. he also wished to teach you about the pleasures of sex. how to feel good with a partner.

he moved your hips a little closer to him. his cock up against your slit as you admired your beauty below him. the softness of you, so tender and sweet. he knew you could be tough, you could be strong. he had seen you debate men with a fury in class. you were passionate, like an inferno.

but under him, on the bed. you looked so sweet. that toto knew that the wait was worth it. he gently eased his cock into you, mindful of your noises and expressions. he didn't want to hurt you. while he didn't gloat about the size of his cock, it was a little more that proportionate to the rest of him.

"are you-"

"i'm perfect." you replied. getting used to the stretch was something, but you accommodated after a few moments of him settled inside of you. you squirmed a little and toto leaned in to kiss you gently.

he started to move and you moved in return. your pace was uneven, but toto found it endearing. you were trying to hard. it was painfully cute. you wanted both of you to have an enjoyable time.

those three little words popped into toto's head when the pleasure started to sink into his bones. when it made his blood run hot. he was a much older man, but he knew how to take care of such a prized possession. the student that he adored like the sun adored the earth.

he wanted to make you feel good. he wanted you to enjoy sex. sex with him! so his touches were tender as were his kisses. he rocked against you as he felt your wetness coat his length. he was able to fit all of himself into you.

you whined a little and he pulled away. when he looked at you with a bit of worry in those dark eyes. you pulled him back in for a searing kiss. everything about how you were feeling felt amazing. toto wanted to know you like the back of his hand.

"toto."

"is it feeling good?" he said. there was such a softness to his voice as he moved against you. he could feel the heat in his stomach as he moved against you. there really was no other woman like you. he had made his way through a lot of the department, but with you. you were special. you weren't a flavour of the month, you were what toto wanted all year. every day, however he could get you.

you made this old history professor for once look to the future rather than get comfortable in the past.

you nodded and verbalized it, 'it feels good. i was wondering if you could move... faster." you felt almost bad for making any sort of demands. you didn't know what the hell you were doing!

he chuckled a little, "a little demanding." he joked before he kissed you. he started to move faster against you. you felt the pleasure radiate from your core.

this was on par, if not better, than when you pleasured yourself. you squirmed a little and held onto the bed under you. you two moved together as you found toto's rhythm. the kisses grew hotter and you knew you wouldn't last long.

but that was okay, the idea of having an orgasm brought on by toto made you stomach twist in knots. good kinds of knots. you held on tightly to the covers and arched your back.

your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the intensity of pleasure come to a head and orgasm took over. toes curled, body tense. it all felt amazing as you moaned loudly.

toto quickly sealed your noises with another kiss and he continued to make love to you. he found the pace to take you at, and that excited him.

he was so much older than you. the student under him. you were all curious glances and big smiles. your cheeks were heated and your breathing heavily. you looked blissed out and it made toto hot all over. he did that to you. the first person to ever make you finish outside of yourself. what a title to have.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "everything about you is... perfect, i lo-" he stopped himself before he corrected, "i admire our time together, and want more of it." then smiled down at you. he'd get to those words later.

the thrusts continued and toto felt the pull of climax. the tension in his body. it all felt very hot.

"i'm close." he said, "i'm going to pull out." the last thing he wanted was the scandal of you getting pregnant. you had a program to finish and toto wasn't going to stop you.

he pulled out while right on the edge of climax and quickly stroked his cock. he eventually came across your stomach. watching the pearly white of his cum all over your stomach. it made him finish more than he usually did, the sight of him marking you almost added a boost to his pleasure. especially when you squirmed so beautiful. your breathing heavy pants, it turned him on greatly.

you laid there for a moment, heavily panting as you felt the lingering feeling of climax through your body. you moaned a little when toto grabbed some tissues off of the nightstand and wiped your stomach. while he got most of it off, you felt a little sticky.

he threw the tissues out and got beside you on the bed. he pulled you into his arms and kissed you gently.

"can i stay here for a little bit?" you asked, "a lot of... a lot of feelings in the brain.. good ones though!"

toto smiled, "of course, you take all the time you need. do you want me to get you your book?" he kissed at your sweaty temple.

you turned in his arms and pressed your cheek against his chest, "that sounds great... thank you."

the kissed the top of your head and said, "of course.. anything for you." <3

[orinfucker]

bite me

summary: astarion decides he should reward you for being such a generous thing to him these last few weeks, and who are you to decline?

warnings: fem!reader, very little plot, slight degradation, praise, dom!astarion, dumbification, vampire biting, blood, begging, slight breath play, fingering, reader has a small hand kink, astarion is a tease, aftercare, fluff at the end

note: i haven’t written anything in months so i apologize in advance if this isn’t that good <\3 anyways i love this sad vampire man more than most things rn

“ah, hello my dear.” a certain pale elf spoke, sauntering towards your spot near the crackling fire. you smiled soft, offering him a nod to sit besides you. the air was cold this night - shivers ran along your spine as the breeze drifted throughout the woods surrounding camp. “i can’t believe how cold it’s gotten already, my bedroll barely keeps me warm enough these days.” you begrudgingly said, rubbing the flesh of your palms up and down the exposed skin of your arms.

astarion chuckled at your annoyance, amused at how the smallest changes caused your emotions to flutter. “well darling, you could always come to me if your looking for some warmth.” a rush of pink flooded your cheeks at his remark; you were used to his flirting, but it still never failed to get a reaction out of you. “plus i’ve been meaning to, well, express my thanks to you.” you looked up towards the vampire, a confused expression cast upon your face. “what would you need to be thanking me for exactly?”

he grinned slyly before leaning down to grab your chin between his cold fingers, lifting your head slightly so your eyes connected with his piercing red ones. “for offering me that delicious blood of yours, my sweet. i’d be but a pathetic man if not for your generosity.” a jolt ran through your body at his words, and your thighs tried their best to not clench as he licked his lips at the sight of your exposed neck.

“and.. and how exactly would you be expressing your thanks towards me for that?” you meekly replied. astarion stifled a laugh at your whispered tone, he always knew you were easily flustered by his words. “with sex, darling. unless you’re not interested? though i think we both know that’d be a lie.” just his words were enough to get you riled up - pathetic, you thought. there was no point in denying his claims either, he already knew what you desired from him. a shaky breath left your mouth before you finally replied, “please.”

astarion smirked, “already begging.. have you craved me that badly, pet?” your head nodded instantly, lust clouding over your eyes as the man in front of you assisted you to your feet. “let’s head to my tent then, hm? i wouldn’t want to keep my needy pup waiting.” the elf led you towards his tent, one of his hands supporting your lower back as you bent down to shimmy past the opening.

astarion was quick to push you onto the ground, crawling over your quivering body before finally hovering right above your plump lips. your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as his right hand snuck up to cup your cheek. “you’re beautiful, my dear.” his voice sounded soft, causing a low whine to escape from you. his lips grazed your own for just a moment before moving to leave small pecks along the sides of your jaw, the feeling of his fangs nipping your skin every so often.

“astarion, please.” you whined, craving the touch of the vampire currently sprawled on top of you. “patience, darling. you’ll have me soon enough.” a slight roll of your eyes caught the elf’s attention, his eyebrow twitching at your apparent attitude. “oh? do you intend on being a brat?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, the hand once on your cheek now trailing to apply pressure to your neck. the breath in your throat hitched as nervous eyes met cold, red ones - a sense of submission washing over your mind as you began to shake your head in response. astarion hummed, satisfied with your answer - “good girl.”

the pressure on your throat lessened as his hand trailed down your front before finally resting right above the heat of your cunt. your hips moved on their own as they rolled into the palm of his hand, releasing a groan from the depths of your throat. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” astarion’s hand began to slowly rub against your clothed cunt, enticing moan after moan to leave your lips as his ministrations continued. “hah - fuck!” your teeth dug into the flesh of your lips, the smallest drop of blood leaking from them in response. the vampire immediately leaned down towards your lips, enveloping them in a sloppy kiss - his tongue swiping away the blood once on them.

“astarion,” you whispered out, catching the attention of the vampire atop of you. “yes darling?” the movement of his hand stopped, now cupping the warmth of your pussy within it. “bite me.” astarion’s expression darkened as a low growl erupted from his throat, his free hand now grazing the side of your waist. “you drive me mad, pet.” you felt his hot breath upon your neck, sending shivers throughout the course of your body. the points of his teeth grazed the flesh, seemingly teasing you before finally breaking the surface.

astarion moaned as your blood filled his system, becoming lost in the pleasure of your neck. your body arched into his own, whimpers slipping past your lips as black dots began to cloud your vision. “a..astarion-!” his senses came back to him as he delicately removed his fangs from your skin, watching as the two holes oozed with red. before you could say a word, you felt the swipe of his tongue across the wound, cleaning the excess blood off. you contained a whine from coming out as he began to leave small kisses along the now bloodstained area of your flesh.

“you are insatiable, love.” you giggled before enveloping his bloodied lips once again, a more passionate sensation washing over your body. a shocked moan escaped you as the feeling of his hand slipping past your small clothes disrupted your thoughts, the cold of his fingers grazing the mound atop your cunt. “so wet for me, aren’t you?” you could barley think as his digits swirled your clit, one dipping down to tease your entrance. “stop - fuck, teasing me!” a hearty laugh left the elf, amused by your whines of disapproval. “so impatient, whatever will i do with you?”

finally you felt two of his fingers dive into you, a relieved sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. he started with slow, precise thrusts, the curl of his digits sending stars to your mind. he slowly worked the insides of your cunt, your walls fluttering against the length of his fingers. when you felt a third digit enter, your entire body shook with pleasure; a response only he could entice from you. “gods,” your mind felt like it was melting with every flick of his hand, and you could already feel an orgasm brewing within.

astarion observed the way your face contorted with pleasure, how your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek and your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched as your body jerked when his fingers reached the deepest parts of you, whines slipping into his ears while your hand shakily came down to wrap around his own. “i, i’m gonna cum-!” he smirked for a moment before increasing the speed of his movements, now ramming his digits in and out of your sopping hole. a bubbling feeling appeared in the depths of your stomach, and you knew it would be moments before you finally were sent over the edge.

astarion noticed the way your thighs closed around his wrist, and how the walls of cunt squeezed against his fingers in desperation. “what a naughty pet i have, hm?” he started, watching your face turn even more flushed then it already was. mantras of please, please, please were all you could muster out, looking into the vampire’s eyes with pleading ones. “go on, cum for me.” you felt your vision go white, a wave of numbness washed over your body before a feeling of relief replaced it. astarion groaned as he felt your cunt spasm with each thrust of his fingers, his jaw clenching with the sight of cum leaking from your hole.

your mind felt blank, every thought in your head vanished from the aftershocks of your orgasm. astarion slowly removed his fingers from your pussy, watching as your hole clenched around nothing from the loss. “how are you feeling, love?” the elf asked, his voice softening as he watched your face melt into a dopey smile. all you did was hum in response, your head still miles away from the current moment. “we can stop here if you’re overwhelmed, pet; i’m sure we’ll have many more opportunities to continue.” you nodded your head just as a yawn managed to slip from your throat, making the vampire smile before standing up to search for a rag.

your eyes followed his every movement, mesmerized by the beauty of the man stood in front of you. astarion glanced towards you, catching your wandering eyes focused on him. “what’s on your mind, my sweet?” he questioned, kneeling back down to wipe off the liquids that coated your thighs. “just looking at you, that’s all.” you mumbled out, hissing lightly as the rag grazed your sensitive cunt. astarion let out a quick apology before the cloth away, throwing it into some lost corner of his tent. “well, you should probably head back to your bedroll love.” a hum left you in response, yet there was no attempt from you to leave his tent. astarion could see the gears turning behind your eyes, immediately knowing there was more that you wanted to say.

“what is it? i can see there’s something you want to ask.” you hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, “could i, maybe, stay here for the night?” astarion seemed taken aback at your question, not used to someone wanting to stay with him willingly. “well, i don’t see why not.” your face lit up at his response, but you quickly calmed yourself down. a quiet thank you left your lips as you watched the vampire crawl towards the space next you, relaxing himself onto the ground before sneaking an arm around your side. your body melted into his own, a sense of comfort consuming your mind as exhaustion took over you. “goodnight, astarion.” the vampire hummed, leaning over to leave a kiss on the top of your forehead. “goodnight my love.”

[beegomess]

T.N. || Are we bad for that?

Summary: Trapped in arranged relationships, you and Theo live a secret passion amid appearances and betrayals. While Draco, your boyfriend, pretends to fulfill his role to maintain appearances, Theodore fights against the jealousy and attraction he feels for you. With Camille, Nott's girlfriend, suspicious, each stealth encounter becomes a risk, threatening to expose a forbidden desire that challenges her responsibilities. Warnings: Mention of betrayals.

Orders are open!

His relationship with Draco Malfoy has always been a well-designed farce. Since the fourth year at Hogwarts, when your families decided that you would be the ideal couple, everyone's expectations began to dictate each movement. For the outside world, you were perfect together, but, deep down, you knew it was all a facade.

Draco was not the kind boyfriend everyone believed in. He had a cold and calculating way of treating everything and everyone, including you. And although he kept appearances, he did not deprive himself of other girls, always telling his achievements to Theodore Nott, a very close friend. Knowing these details only diminished the guilt you felt for getting involved with Theodore.

The connection between you and Theodore began in a subtle way, but grew quickly. It was not something you planned to change, on the contrary, there was an almost morbid excitement in keeping the relationship secret. Both knew that Draco and Camille, Theo's girlfriend, were not completely dedicated to their respective partners, but that didn't matter. You weren't worried about changing anything, just about keeping what you shared.

It was a winter night at the Malfoy mansion, during a dinner that brought together some of the most influential families in the wizarding world. The dining room was illuminated by floating candles, and the tables were filled with fine plates and crystal bowls. Draco, by his side, seemed more interested in talking to other boys, children of his father's close friends, who came from outside London especially for that night, than in paying attention to you. He rarely looked in your direction, and when he did, it was with an indifference that you had already gotten used to receiving.

Theodore was sitting on the other side of the table, next to Camille, who smiled politely at everyone. Your presence was a constant reminder of the complexity of that situation, but you simply didn't care. Camille was a good person, but her existence was irrelevant to you. The only thing that mattered was the look that Theodore threw in his direction from time to time, full of silent promises.

During a break between the dishes, you murmured some excuse to Draco and got up, walking towards the mansion's library. I knew Theodore would understand the signal and follow it soon after.

The Malfoy library was immense, full of rare books and curious objects, a place where few dared to enter alone.

You hid among the high shelves, your heart accelerated by anticipation. A few minutes later, he heard gentle steps approaching. Theodore appeared, his eyes shining with the same expectation you felt.

- That drug never seemed to end. - he murmured, with a mischievous smile.

- Believe me, it was worse for me. - you replied, allowing a smile to escape.

He got closer, and the world around him seemed to disappear. Theodore always had a way to make you forget everything, even if for a few moments. The proximity between you was inevitable, and before you could hesitate, you pulled him for a kiss, one that carried all the frustration and desire they had accumulated throughout dinner.

Theodore's hands were on his waist, pulling her closer, almost as if he needed you at that moment, while you let yourself be carried away by the moment. The library, usually a place of silence and reflection, was now a witness to a meeting full of secrets.

In the midst of the intensity of the kiss and the impulse that Theodore gave you to climb to a table nearby, his body bumped into a pile of books, causing some of them to fall to the ground with a deaf thuck. You laughed, the sound of your voices filling the empty space.

It was at that moment that they heard steps in the hallway. The two froze, and Theodore quickly walked away, trying to pull himself together. It was too late to hide the tracks, and when Camille appeared at the entrance of the library, her curious look turned into something more suspicious.

- Theo? - Camille called, looking around, trying to understand what was going on. - Is everything okay?

- Yes, dear. - He replied, with a forced smile, that he couldn't dissipate the tension in the air. - Are you okay?

You observed Camille, but without any concern or remorse, just an indifference that you were already used to feeling. Camille took a step forward, her eyes passing from Theodore to you. There was something in her eyes that suggested that she knew something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what. Maybe he had heard the laughter, maybe the sound of the falling books would have aroused his curiosity. Anyway, she didn't ask directly, she just threw a warning look at Theodore.

- We need to go back. Dinner should already be at the end. - she said, her voice slightly tense.

Theodore nodded, but before leaving, he threw one last look in his direction, trying not to show the discomfort he was beginning to feel. There was a resentment in Camille's voice that he chose to ignore.

When you finally returned to the dining room, Draco was once again involved in conversations, but this time, he noticed his approach. He briefly interrupted the conversation to cast a serious look in his direction.

- Where were you? - he asked, the tone slightly irritated.

- I went to get some air - you replied, without worrying about hiding the annoyance in your voice.

He narrowed his eyes, but didn't insist. Draco didn't really care about you, but he knew he was expected to act like a caring boyfriend, at least in front of others.

As dinner progressed, you realized that Draco began to approach you in a way that he rarely did. He touched his hand from time to time, leaning to whisper comments in his ear. His touch was not affectionate, but there was a certain physical intensity, an attraction that was not related to feelings, but to desire.

You realized that by maintaining these appearances and getting closer physically to Draco, you could instigate a more possessive reaction in Theodore. So, with every touch, with every whisper of him that made you smile, your mind wandered momentarily to Theodore, but just enough to allow himself to react to Draco convincingly. What you did was not just keep the appearances; it was a subtle game to measure the effect on Theodore.

Camille, sitting on the other side of the table, seemed increasingly attentive to her interactions with Draco. She watched more carefully, noticing every calculated gesture, every smile you forced next to Draco. She wondered if you were really happy, but when she saw how well you pretended, she concluded that even if you weren't, no one would notice.

When dinner finally came to an end, you got up next to Draco, still feeling his touch on your back, but it was Theodore who dominated his thoughts. Draco, indifferent, cast one last look in his direction, as if he were just ensuring that he fulfilled his role to maintain appearances and, perhaps, meet his father's expectations.

Camille, with a suspicious expression, approached Theodore, who seemed even more distant and angry.

- Theo, are you okay? - she asked, in a soft voice, but there was an evident concern in her tone.

Theodore kept his gaze fixed at a distant point, avoiding her eyes.

- I'm just a little tired. - he replied, his voice loaded with a restrained irritation.

Camille hesitated, noticing the tension in the air.

- We can spend the night together, if you want. Maybe this will help you relax - he suggested, trying to sound comforting.

Theodore finally looked at her, his eyes hard and impassive.

- No, Camille. I prefer to be alone. - he said, firmly, but not rudely.

She frowned, surprised and a little hurt by the rejection, but did not insist. He just nodded slowly, moving away from him with a dejected expression, while Theodore remained motionless, lost in his own tumultuous thoughts.

The next morning, Hogwarts was as usual: students rushed through the corridors, the first classes already in progress, and a characteristic cold of the castle hovered in the air. As you walked to your Spell class, you felt a firm hand pull your arm, dragging it into an empty corridor.

It was Theodore. Your face was tense, your eyes shining with a jealousy that you recognized immediately.

- What was that last night? - he asked, his voice low, but loaded with emotion.

You frowned, even though you knew exactly what he was talking about.

- What are you talking about, Theo?

He took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure.

- How Draco was touching you... As if he cared. - The words came out almost like an accusation. - Did anything else happen after I left?

You couldn't help but smile, even though you knew Theodore was genuinely bothered. There was something almost irresistible about seeing him envy, a feeling that gave him a strange sense of power.

- Theo, nothing happened... - you started, but the smile on your lips betrayed your words. He narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced.

- I saw how he looked at you, how he touched you - Theodore insisted, his hand still holding his arm as if he needed this connection to anchor himself. - And you didn't seem bothered.

- Don't be ridiculous, Theodore. - His voice was slightly provocative as you leaned a little more towards him. - He's my boyfriend, what did you expect me to do?

The jealousy in Theodore's eyes did not disappear, but he seemed to relax a little with his answer.

- I just... I don't like to see you with him like that - he admitted, the voice now lower, almost a whisper.

- So don't look. - Your answer was almost playful, but there was an underlying seriousness in your words. - We still have a relationship...

Theodore opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything, you heard steps approaching. She was one of your friends, walking down the corridor towards you.

Quickly, Theodore let go of his arm and walked away, trying to disguise the tension between you. Your friend didn't seem to have noticed anything strange, but took a curious look at Theodore before turning her attention to you.

- We are late for the Spells class - the girl said with her voice indifferent.

You nodded, exchanging one last look with Theodore before following your friend down the hallway. Theodore stood still for a moment, watching you move away, his heart still racing by the conversation and the anger he was trying to suppress.

____________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[starvu]

My Heart Won't Start Anymore || s. reid

where you were always, always there for spencer, but after what happened with maeve you couldn't handle it anymore, you felt betrayed

pairing: spencer reid x bau member!gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst/hurt

content warnings: mention of spencer's addiction, mention of his being shot in the knee, reader was once shot in the stomach, mentions of blood, fairly graphic description of maeve's death, maeve wasn't spencer's girlfriend, but they had feelings, that's for sure, bitter ending (inspired by "you're losing me" ts)

word count: 9,1k

a/n: i described the whole line from s2 to s8 here, i didn't even know i could write that much lol. and i haven't written that much yet, it was a bit of a weird concept and i couldn't put everything into words, but I wanted to write it so much (i suck at dialogue, sorry). i spent like nine hours today only in notes app and writing this, im kinda insane. i won't be posting any more work this year, so i hope your new year will be happy 😽

~

You would never have thought it would end like this. No, no... no. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

No.

You were always each other's support, comfort, comfort. When you joined the BAU, you were just a young girl, full of ambition and hope, joyful and smiling with sprinkles in your eyes, but also a lost girl. Lost in a new environment and new circumstances.

No need to mention that you were a people pleaser who only wanted to be noticed... right?

Of course, you were prepared for such a job, but damn, you didn't expect this. What they learned in training and at the academy was nothing compared to what you had been working on since day one. Theory was just a sliver of practice, yes, it was brutal, but in real work, the same theory seemed like a sugar-coated story with sprinkles. It didn't connect in any way.

But Spencer wanted to help you. He really, genuinely wanted to help you. He wasn't that much older, well, no, you were the same age, actually. He wasn't overly effusive or outgoing, but he wanted you to settle in, and you appreciated that. He was awkward, very awkward, more interested in facts than people, and not really good at social interactions, and your good attitude made him a little intimidated when he first saw you and you eagerly greeted him, introducing yourself.

He wasn't sure what you would find nice and was afraid of imposing, so he did little things like bring you fresh coffee from that not-so-great coffee machine, sometimes gave you little tips about team members, sometimes helped you when your casework was limited to sifting through tedious piles of files tied with string, the letters already shimmering before your eyes and blurring into black spots.

That's why when he went through his own hell, held captive by Tobias Hankel and drugged, you felt the need to help him. You couldn't explain it, but... no, you could actually explain it. You always wanted to help everyone and spread your smile. A smile that didn't fit the job, a smile that was the opposite of the brutality you saw in the job, and only that smile allowed you to keep your sanity.

Hey, do you know that you'll even lose your spark and the twinkle in your eyes?

You felt plain, simple, and human sympathy for him. His addiction problem was one of those ignored ones. You all swept it under the rug, almost like the whole team suddenly had blinkers on and lived in a conspiracy of silence, even if you didn't state it out loud. That just hadn't happened in the history of this team, even if you had noticed Spencer's daily highs. There was nothing wrong with the young genius's mind, after all. More or less.

You hadn't known him very long, but you knew it had little to do with his everyday behavior. Even if you only knew him for a few months before, he couldn't act like this and you noticed that everyone outside the team noticed his behavior as well, which Hotch could always justify because 'Dr. Reid isn't at his best right now'.

Funny how reputation and lack of complications from the people above were more important than Reid's well-being.

Funny how Reid's well-being has become more important to you than your own.

You acted somewhat on your own, you tried to help Spencer, even if he rejected help, he was elusive. He closed himself off, he practically dismissed his problem on his own. And maybe you were a little intrusive, yes, you were aware of it, but how else were you supposed to act in such a situation?

And surprisingly, you succeeded. He didn't look kindly on your actions, but he stopped dismissing you coldly. Your actions were happening behind the team's back, you didn't want to expose yourself as a newbie to something that wouldn't be approved of. If this whole situation is going on behind the backs of the people at the top, why couldn't you go behind the backs of the team?

You took care of him, at least as much as he allowed you. You didn't want to overdo it, but you tried. You didn't force him to do anything, but you still tried everything that could replace the dilaudid, you spent more time with him than was appropriate just to distract him from needing another dose. and when he stopped taking the drug, you were there to help him through the withdrawal symptoms, although withdrawal was the hardest. You were understanding and respected him despite everything, even if it was a difficult and overwhelming experience. You could say that it left a mark on you, however you wouldn't admit it. You just piled on the stress and nerves. It wasn't easy by any means, but you didn't have the heart to leave him.

You never had the heart to leave him.

Or at least that's what you thought.

Anyway, you were there for him.

~

He also felt a spark of sympathy for you when you cared so much for him, because you didn't let up or ignore the problem. He finally felt a little different, other than a drugged-up piece of trash. Someone really wanted to be with him, to suffer especially for him and at some point with him.

You knew that a spark of understanding was being born between you over the years. A spark of something warm, like friendship. Your friendship was close, there was something special and magical about it. He trusted you. He trusted you and opened up to you, he felt exposed to his emotions but he didn't feel bad about it. It wasn't often that he felt this way about anyone, you were important to him.

Sometimes Penelope joked that you were glued together, because wherever Spencer was, you were too, within a radius of a few meters and no further. If you think about it, the sweet, sweet technical analyst wasn't wrong at all, in fact, she was right. Likewise, Derek, who would laugh and sometimes tease you about your glued hips, you dismissed it as bullshit.

You were sitting in her darkened computer lab, your seat was a little lower, so you rested your head on the desk. The quiet hum of computers came from the computer lab. You didn't have much work, so you sat together and talked about things that helped you forget about the hardships and darkness of work for a while. You matched each other with your rather cheerful personalities. You were sipping from plastic cups through colorful straws some overly sweet tea that Penelope had brought earlier. You weren't even sure what kind of tea it was, some brewed herbs with a lavender aftertaste. In any case, it was tasty.

You laughed. "Pen no. There's no match here..."

She stared at you with clear disappointment and determination, she interrupted you suddenly. "Listen, it's in the stars. I beg you, can't you feel it?"

You shook your head slightly. "Penelope. I really love you and appreciate you, but this is a bunch of bullshit. What kind of match in the stars? Just because you, as a fetus, decided to be born on this day and not another, doesn't mean you have a fantastic love match with anyone." You took a sip of tea, but you were still staring at the blonde analyst.

"I'm not just talking about the stars here. It's the whole match, similar vibes, agreement and..." She continued to justify herself when Spencer suddenly entered the computer room with two warm coffees.

"Garcia, there's extra foam and vanilla syrup for you." He put the coffee on the desk. "Here." He looked at you. "They didn't have any almond milk, so I got lactose-free." He put down the second coffee and looked at you apologetically. "Is it okay?"

You just nodded slightly with a warm smile. "Yes, thank you."

Garcia watched your interaction, then took a sip of coffee, she finished her tea earlier. "It's still warm!" She interrupted enthusiastically, and Spencer nodded with her lips pressed into a line, a sign of confirmation.

After a moment he was gone from the computer room, leaving he made his awkward gesture waving at you with his hand, or rather sticking it out motionlessly, and you followed him with your eyes to the door.

On Penelope's face there was an incomprehensible, slightly too wide smile, she looked at you with excitement. "Oh God, it's look of love! Real look of love!"

You sighed. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." She continued to chatter happily, not straying from this topic even for a moment.

Penelope believed in the emotional tension between you, personality matching, and other such endearing things that you didn't quite believe in. You hated breaking the worldview of your favorite glitter and pink analyst.

~

When Spencer was shot in the knee and temporarily annihilated, you also tried to help him, although you were more likely to scold him then. What kind of brainless person wanted to ignore all doctor's orders just to fly with the rest of the team to the crime scenes. Second opinion? More like mindless, idiotic and stupid chatter. You wanted to hit him in the back of the head every time he tried to figure out how to avoid being grounded any longer, and even his doctorate couldn’t convince you to implement gentler measures. You didn't have the strength to fight him and you wanted to shoot him in the knee again, but it was out of concern, as strange as it might sound.

But despite his thoughtlessness, you were there for him then too.

~

You could say that you spent a lot of time together, often aimlessly, you could sit up all night and talk nonsense and in the end Spencer would let you drink coffee from his mug, and after difficult cases he was the one who tried to comfort you, your radiance and optimism could not be eternal and unwavering, and you baked his favorite cookies with brown sugar and sea salt. It was as if his worries suddenly disappeared, he spoke freely about whatever interested him without being suddenly silenced or dismissed, and strangest of all, even his aversion to germs was then a secondary matter.

You didn't see anything special about it, unlike anyone else around you. Yeah, you were a bit blinded by each other and sometimes the rest of the team felt like they were just getting in the way when they were around you. They felt like they were intruding on your little moments, your exchanges of glances and incomprehensible gestures.

They all felt that something happening, except you two.

And did it bother anyone? It was fine as it was.

Four years just flew by and you changed, not for the worse, change doesn't have to be bad... or something. You couldn't have peace. Day by day you felt more and more strange, not like usual, definitely not like usual, something was wrong, why were you suddenly stressed by his presence, and why did your nerves almost always get the better of you? You didn't show it, but this feeling started to annoy you. And you were a bit excluded, because there was one thought you didn't even consider, it didn't get into your tangle of thoughts, it just didn't. Or maybe it got into the center of your thoughts, and you cleverly avoided it with full awareness? Either way, when one day at work you were staring at him with your chin resting on your hand, probably looking at him from every possible and potential angle, a sudden realization finally hit you.

Oh.

oh.

It was a little different from friendship. Okay, maybe it was very different from friendship. You missed him faster than you thought, you almost felt anxious when he wasn't around and and you felt those nerves when he appeared next to you and you wanted his unwavering attention and you tried to justify it in every way, as friendship, friendly concern, natural nervous reaction towards loved ones, friendly... blah, blah, blah.

You felt attached to Spencer Reid and infatuated with him. To the same Specter who supported you from the beginning, he remembered what your favorite coffee was, he remembered the little details that made you you, showed you care in the same way you showed him care, he wasn't tired of you usually being full of energy and a little too emotional and were your precious friends. You couldn't say you expected it, but you couldn't say you didn't either.

You were in trouble.

Technically, you didn't have to tell him, but on the other hand you had a hard time keeping your mouth shut. You had to work up the courage to tell him. For God's sake, for half a year you'd felt like throwing up just thinking about that conversation. This could be good, or you could have ruined everything. You couldn't be sure he felt the same way, maybe he was just nice (and the fact that your stomach was tingling and your throat was dry and you just wanted to grab his stupid face and kiss it until you couldn't breathe was a side effect). Too nice. Being nice was never a bad thing, but it made you unable to fully read his intentions.

With shame in your mind, you admitted to yourself that you were observing him much more closely than usual, to investigate his behavior, no matter how stupid it seemed. This case really made an idiot out of you.

One night you were staring at the ceiling in your not too big bedroom and exchanging meaningless conversations, as he carefully ran his long fingers through your hair and occasionally glanced at you. There was a lamp on the nightstand, which gave off a rather shady, flickering light. You should have replaced that bulb. The rest of the light coming into the bedroom was the moonlight, carefully trying to get in through the window, thanks to the open curtains and blinds. The bright moonlight was more shy, though.

You finally, with heavy heart decided to talk to him about it.

This wasn't a good idea, trust me.

You tried to play it cool, even as you swallowed hard and your shaking hands were hidden only by the dim light of your bedroom.

"Umm... Spence." The usual certainty suddenly disappeared from your voice. “You know, there’s this thing.”

He immediately turned his head towards you, now in addition to his unwavering attention you had his gaze as well. "Did something serious happen?" He wasn't the best at talking about emotions, but, as befits a profiler, he read them well.

"Not really. I mean, yes, but no." You swallowed hard. "Depends."

He didn't want to rush you, force you to talk or annoy you. "Okay, no rush." Despite that, he felt a growing curiosity and a bit of stress. You rarely took that tone.

Suddenly you felt his hand no longer in your hair. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently in his, assuring you that everything was okay. The gesture, combined with your nerves, made you feel like you might as well cry. It was a gesture that you had considered nice and didn’t object to, but now it was confusing you even more.

It was now or never.

“I think I love you. No, it's not 'I think', I’m convince. Yeah, I'm convince."

Pretty nice, but you won't be the only one saying it.

He didn’t answer right away, only because he always had the feeling he’d ruin everything the moment he started talking about feelings. But he squeezed your hand tighter and didn’t take his eyes off you, his hazel, puppy eyes fixed on you. His voice lacked confidence, he hesitated for a moment, he asked quietly. "Can I?" You nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly.

After a moment, you felt his lips on yours. It was soft, tender and sweet. You had waited so long for this, and his absolute gentleness and feelings melted your heart without the slightest problem. You felt like you were the only people in the world, especially since everything around you was quiet and calm that night, practically intimate without the actual intimacy. Life just happened and you were somewhere in between, not in a rush. You always had to be rushing somewhere after all.

The conclusion from his actions was one. He felt the same way. You thanked all the gods and heavens for that. You didn't even want to think about the disaster that would happen if he didn't reciprocate your feelings and you had to keep working together, not to mention the tragic ending of your friendship. But at that moment, besides your still shaking hands, something else was hiding in the darkness - a smile on your face.

Maybe everything wasn't supposed to be so bad.

Oh sweet child, what a stupid impression.

~

It wasn't until you became a couple that you realized how little had changed in your relationship. You weren't sure if it was just too romantic before or too platonic now, but it was pretty much the same thing, with the added bonus of showing affection. Your relationship was built on all these little things and there was never a moment when your heart stopped feeling warm. You were really, really happy with the way things were.

For a short moment you regained some of the sparkle in your eyes, take advantage of it.

If Derek had talked about having your hips glued together before, it was hard to say what it could be called now. It wasn't that you were blabbing about your relationship left and right, in fact the fact that your relationship had even happened had stayed between you for a few weeks. You spent a few evenings off from work wondering what to do with the new label of this relationship. Telling Hotch was one option, and keeping it a secret and hiding it in every way possible was another. Both had their pros and cons, because in theory, a relationship between agents wasn't necessarily indicated, so it was more reasonable to admit it than to have him find out later on his own. Hiding it was also reasonable, considering the nature of your work, the dangerous nature, the possibility that someone might use it someday. Well, you didn't come up with a solution right away.

The fact that Spencer would bring you coffee every morning, or the exchange of small smiles, and the fact that you would sit on the edge of his desk while you talked wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It had happened even before there was anything like a relationship between you.

After a few weeks, you decided and went to Hotch to sort it out and not expose yourselves to any unpleasantness related to your new relationship - a relationship between two agents. Potential risk? Hard to say. But maybe it was better to explain it to him honestly, like adults. After all, it was inadvisable, but not forbidden either.

Spencer squeezed your hand in comfort and leaned towards you. "It'll be okay." The warmth of his hand helped a little and brought you back to earth.

"I take you for granted. And you better be right." You turned to face him for a moment. That sounded like one of your joking threats to Spencer. It wasn't the least bit funny to you at the time.

You entered Hotch's office first, with Spencer right behind you. He was on the phone, but quickly put it away. You took a breath. When his gaze landed on you, you still wanted to turn around, run away, hide and hide. But it was too late. You turned your head slightly towards Spencer. And then you wandered with your gaze wherever you could.

To your surprise, the conversation with Hotch was so... ordinary. You felt quite surprised by this turn of events. None of your theories had panned out. Besides, they had no chance of panning out, it was impossible. You loved to imagine a million versions of a single event in your head, and mostly the worst versions. It clashed with your optimism.

Or maybe that optimism was fading anyway.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye through the window of Hotch's office that Derek, with an expression of obvious defeat written on his face, was giving Penelope a twenty dollar bill as soon as they noticed you two. Penelope had just won a bet of sorts and you felt disbelief, but at the same time a smile was also trying to creep up on your lips. You squeezed Spencer's hand imperceptibly tighter. For a moment you were distracted and focused on Morgan and Garcia. You didn't bring it up, it was just a little stupidity between them, one of many

Your relationship wasn't a big obstacle as long as it didn't affect the team's work, your cooperation in the field, or involve showing romantic feelings at work. 'And no intimate contact!' He even emphasized that a few times, but in an even more professional way. Not that you had any plans and you were an adult, so you shouldn't have been nervous, yet your cheeks and nose suddenly became more rosy. It ended with a few signatures and sending you out of the office with nothing. Overall he said that as long as you are happy, it's good. He went back to talking on the phone and reporting, which were more important to him at the time than such problems with agents.

You and Spencer were there for each other.

~

Everything seemed pretty fine until the headache and sleep problems came. And after it another headache and another headache. Sleep problems were nothing new, they happened every once in a while, but then they became more frequent. You thought it was temporary, caused by stress and fatigue, maybe not drinking enough water and being slightly dehydrated, but it only got worse. Often and routinely. The medication didn't help much, and the tests, head and brain scans showed nothing.

Spencer was almost going crazy thinking that this was early schizophrenia, some stage of the disease and he would end up like his own mother, which was his biggest nightmare. The knowledge that in a dozen or so years he might not remember anything, only have flashes of what he knew, become useless. He wanted to use his full potential. He was supposed to be a genius, to come up with something that would help slow down the progression of his mother's disease, not a useless piece of crap whose life would slip through his fingers because of the cavities in his head.

It had nothing to do with schizophrenia at the end of the day, but it was problematic enough. They were migraines, strong and painful migraines. They didn't seem dangerous in a long run, were not comparable in terms of potential danger to anything related to the disorder he suspected, however they were difficult for Spencer and he was clearly suffering, the sight that broke your heart.

You didn't want to see him like this, you wanted to do everything to make him feel better. You weren't an expert in medicine, but you used the comforting methods you knew to make him feel at least a little better, a little more mundane than the medical ones. You stayed at his apartment a lot more often, slept there a lot more often, to be completely sure about his pain, to help him through sleepless nights, to provide him with some peace. At one point, you practically lived there. Despite your sincere efforts, compresses, warm teas, kisses on the head and careful massaging of his temples, it wasn't enough, maybe it just helped slightly. You really tried and he knew it too, sometimes he even thought and mentioned, that he didn't deserve you.

You wanted to find someone who knew about these kinds of conditions. You knew that Spencer had more contacts and connections because he was in the scientific community, so he could do more, he could take care of himself, but you wanted to do something too. You spent your nights just to find a doctor, a scientist, anyone. This situation wasn't good for you either. Almost every time you worried about Spencer, it took its toll on you. The nerves and helplessness became overwhelming. You yourself experienced headaches, but you just clenched your teeth. It was from exhaustion and you wouldn't admit it. Spencer thought you didn't have to do it, to sacrifice and worry so much, he always reminded you of that.

You were there for him, nothing new.

Wait, sweetheart.

You know you weren't the only one anymore? Really, no one told you?

You were about to give up, thinking that there was no point in searching any longer. More frustration than concern flowed through you. Mostly frustration with yourself. But you found it. You had it. You found a geneticist who could help. You felt enlightened and filled with hope. You hadn't felt this kind of hope in a long time.

There she was.

Dr. Maeve Donovan

You felt convinced, you had a feeling she would be the solution to Spencer's problems. He had no doubts when you suggested that Maeve look at the scans. You sent them by email, but you didn't go into why that was the right way for her. It wasn't your business after all. She had reviewed Spencer's MRI scans of brain, partly to help, partly out of pure scientific interest, he was a brilliant mind after all. Unlike other doctors, she saw the solution in these headaches and sleeping problems. After a few weeks of analysis, she wrote everything down, including recommendations and a prescription for some medications that you knew a little about because of how immersed you were in the whole topic of migraines, insomnia, and even paranoid schizophrenia, despite everything, Spencer knew more about these meds.

~

Months passed. I guess. You were losing count. Something was wrong and you knew it. Not with Spencer, he was slowly getting better and was in less and less pain, he didn't wake up at night as often and he wasn't in more pain during the day. You were relieved to see your beloved getting better, the meds were working, and he was regaining his nerdy drive and commitment to everything. It was a precious sight you had been waiting for.

So you should have been happy, it was wiser not to dig anything up. You didn't have a habit of behaving like that. Since Soencer was acting strange at least, you had to find out what was going on and why he wasn't telling you. He always trusted you, he told you everything, and if he didn't say something, he still mentioned the situation. Now he was avoiding anything that could be related to his behavior. He was nervous, as if stressed, sometimes he would suddenly disappear at Sundays and come back after a few minutes without a word. Later he was a bit concerned, but he tried to get back to reality. And later he would even sneak out during work, when you were with the team in the field. Sometimes you'd see notes and a pen left around his apartment, like he was writing letters. You never tried to read them, but you felt a pang in your heart.

Your intuition wasn't some great mechanism, but it wasn't stupid either. You saw him get even more worked up one afternoon. That was when Maeve told him she loved him. But you were so blissfully unaware that you were in that position. Spencer wasn't a cheater, that much was for sure. He froze for a moment after hearing those words, but he didn't answer her. He thought about what to do with this new awareness, he thought a lot.

When, during one of the cases, after Spencer had a quick conversation with Blake, she gave him a ride somewhere, you felt like something was happening completely behind your back. At least Alex already knew what was going on after she confronted him near the telephone booth. And so she promised him she wouldn't tell anyone, so you remained in unconsciousness. Unconsciousness that was no longer blissful.

And then you saw a book wrapped carefully in ribbon in Spencer's apartment, even if Spencer wasn't particularly artistic. You didn't look in there. You didn't know if it would calm down or if you'd find out something you didn't want to know. He didn't even noticed you'd noticed the book, he was behaving the same way as last time. A little nervous, but pretending to be normal. You were also a profiler, he couldn't hide it from you, even if you didn't make a habit of profiling your loved ones, it didn't agree with your morals. Well, you made plenty of exceptions for Spencer, so why should this be any different?

You loved this living room 'cause of the light. As you stood by the bookshelf, staring at the spines of old, yellowed books whose arrangement you already knew by heart, Spencer came up behind you, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. You knew that look on his face. You often cut his hair because he wasn't very comfortable with having a barber do it. He didn't like the feeling of a stranger messing with his hair, it wasn't pleasant in any way, even if most of society disagreed.

“Umm… I’m starting to think I look weird.” He began uncertainly, referring to his hair. “It’s a little too long, I think.”

You stared at him for a moment, your gaze darting between his face and his hair, you smiled. You had thought about proposing a haircut to him a few days ago, but in the end you didn't. The request seemed rather sudden. Finally, you reached out and touched his hair, and he leaned slightly into your touch. He found it a pleasant experience.

"I don't know, I like it. It's not too long yet." You admitted as you focused on his hair and kept running your fingers through it, trying to style it.

"You think so?"

You didn't know why he was so determined about it, or why he cared so much at that time. As if there were already too many strange things happening that you couldn't explain, another one was just happening.

"Yeah, it's fine. Trust me, Spence."

“Okay.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. This kiss was warm and sincere, as always, but it had a slightly different tone than what he usually gave, more... apologizing? What the hell did he have to apologize for?

You didn't bring up the subject of hair again. You didn't know, but Alex had told him that his hair was fine the way it was and it wouldn't affect what Maeve thought. It would be funny if you were the one who cut his hair to meet her. And your eyes kept returning to the white cover and the ribbon - The narrative of John Smith

You thought you were stupid, that you were really just making up a story to yourself because you were too bored, that it was just your stupid overthinking and nothing was happening, you were drawing too many conclusions and adding a story to everything. You thought you were crazy, that something was wrong with you. You should have been happy that Spencer was no longer suffering and in pain, not making up events that you had no idea about.

What if you were right?

~

While at work one day that seemed as normal as any other, except for the constant doubts in the back of your mind, you saw Spencer briskly walk to Hotch's office without a word. He was there longer than you expected, which certainly didn't comfort you. And then you were all in the bullpen, around Spencer, whose voice was breaking.

"... He thinks he'll get away with this and he might." He stared at the floor and didn't look up. "I have a wealth of knowledge I should be applying to this case. Behavioral patterns of violent stalkers, tactical recovery strategies, victim survival odds. But right now I can't focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time, which makes me the dumbest person in the room." All eyes were fixed on him, it was an unexpected situation. "So... please help me. Help me find her."

Sometimes you felt small glances at you. You clenched your hand on the edge of the desk. You weren't even mad. You felt your stomach drop. Maeve, same Maeve. How could all this be happening so close to you and you were so stupid? You didn't say anything, just like everyone else. The difference was that the others were taken aback, surprised, but you were just numb.

After a moment, Hotch spoke up, even his tone of voice was a little different than usual. "We don't know if we have a case. So we'll be working on personal time. Does anybody want to leave?"

Silence.

You swallowed hard, but did nothing. You didn't leave, you stood there, leaning against the desk. It seemed impossible. This was all a bad dream. If nothing happened, then you weren't betrayed, right? Still, your heart ached. Your heart ached for another reason. You couldn't even feel angry because you were more concerned with his trembling, cracking voice. What the hell was wrong with you. What was even worse was that Spencer didn't have the courage to look at you. His gaze wandered, staring at the floor, his gaze meeting everything and everyone but you.

"Good. Let's get to work."

Soon, you were sitting at the same round table as always. All of their letters in front of you. The same written pages that you had seen in Spencer's apartment, but that you had never touched. You hadn't spoken to him since his confession and plea for help. You should have occupied yourself with the fact that this was about the life of an innocent woman, approached it professionally, but you couldn't. Looking at these letters, holding them in your hands and reading them, you pressed your lips into a line. You didn't share your thoughts or observations. In fact, you didn't have any, because all the letters merged into one, and you weren't able to think deeper.

Spencer was clearly taking it, looking worse than he had during any stressful case, worse than he had during any other stressful event. And you wanted to help him, or take him aside and talk to him. But he didn't seem to have a clear head to talk. What were you supposed to do anyway? Comfort him? You were the first loved one, it wasn't fair to you. Who said feelings were fair? Were you supposed to yell at him? In his condition, it wouldn't do any good anyway, and you'd only say too many words because of how you felt now.

He was angry, he didn't behave rationally, he stretched all possible theories. You had never seen Spencer like this, so emotional.

And you thought he was emotional when you were shot in the stomach during one of the cases five, maybe four years ago.

You remember his panic, your hot, scarlet blood on his hands, the pressure of his hand on your stomach where the bullet was and the tears in his eyes. And you smiled slightly at him, you don't know why, but you weren't even scared. You didn't feel any pain, because of the adrenaline in your body. You lost so much blood at the same time that you started to feel blissful, maybe that's why you weren't afraid. He acted like a hothead, and you thought there was no need to panic.

He sat in the hospital all night, right under the operating room, when you were being operated on. For several days he sat in the hospital almost constantly, slept on those uncomfortable chairs and showed you the greatest care. He was the first person you saw after waking up. The team and the nurses practically had to drag him away from the room and the hospital.

He brought you everything that could help you recover faster and smuggled in some snacks when you made pretty eyes, although according to the regulations he shouldn't do that. He explained that he wasn't doing it because it was your whim, but because after losing so much blood you should eat chocolate to normalize. You knew that wasn't his intention, but you appreciated the clever excuse.

It doesn't change the fact that you lost a part of yourself back then.

But his behavior back then was nothing like what he was now. A nervous wreck. He wanted to do everything in his power to save Maeve. How could you have known they were in touch? You thought that after the meds were prescribed, it was over. But no, she had sent him a letter praising his article on psychology. You tried to work on it, like everyone else, you really did, but you felt like shit. Maybe she was what he had always been looking for? They were interested in similar things, had similar topics and knowledge in different areas. Maybe you were just too stupid for the long term, didn't have that much to offer.

Weren't you his love by any chance?

Anyway, you didn't even talk. You didn't bring yourself to talk, you didn't look at him. The team's hard work had paid off, even if the atmosphere was tense and heavy. You were supposed to find Maeve, find out where Diane was holding her. Diane had already killed Bobby, Donovan's ex-fiancé. After her efforts, Garcia discovered where both women could be. Hotch absolutely forbade Spencer from showing up at the scene, but Spencer clearly protested. He wanted to pretend to Diane what he felt for Maeve - love.

After those words, you really felt like nothing.

You no longer showed him the same sweet support you always did, you couldn't, but by not giving up on your help you also made it clear that you wouldn't just abandon him. Despite the lack of contact between you, you devoted your nights to this matter, you slept worse than usual and drank more coffee. Don't kid yourself, you didn't really sleep because you were thinking about your relationship. Was it real or was it your imagination? You weren't working, you were consumed by thoughts and you were losing all of yourself in it.

So you were there for him, well, more for his cause, but for him.

~

Outskirts of town. Spencer entered the old, abandoned building first. None of you thought it was a good idea, but you didn't stop him. You felt the pain in this whole situation, and you were even more afraid of something happening to him. Well, it was because you loved him. You didn't know if he loved you the same anymore. You couldn't even think about 'no'. You were exhausted for the past few days.

You waited there impatiently, not knowing what was going on inside. At least you didn't see that fake kiss between Diane and Spencer. You knew it would be wiser to step in there, so that's what you did. They tried to keep you at a distance, to the side, so you wouldn't do anything stupid under the influence of emotions. Spencer tried to negotiate with Diane, who was holding a terrified Maeve, while with her other hand she was holding a gun to her own temple. You kept your cool, just like Spencer, but you could see his nervousness.

"He's the one thing you can never take from us." You heard Maeve's last, quiet words, and then a noise.

A bang, a screech in your ears, and a large, spreading stain of blood on the floor. Both women lying on the cold floor, their hair in dark blood, and a gun nearby. You looked at Spencer, who was rooted to the ground, with tears in his eyes. He quickly approached the lying, still warm Maeve. The bullet flew through the head of one and stopped in the head of the other. There was nothing left to save from the shot brain. Spencer's beloved was currently bleeding out in his arms, his hands were completely covered in sticky blood, and tears were running down his cheeks, staining her pale skin and face, from which the life had gone.

Everyone was in shock, no one made a move or said anything. Tears welled up in your own eyes. Partly because of how Spencer felt, how tragic his condition was, partly because you only just realized what was happening. He was crying hard over the body of another woman, whispering quiet words to her, hoping she would hear them, even though it was a foolish hope. He was too stunned to do anything at that point, so you walked up to them, her blood was also on your hands, you thought you could still save her yourself, even though there was no chance of that.

~

He helped her parents bury her. He was there until the end... in fact, he was there even longer. Everyone else had gone, and he was left at the grave. No, he wasn't there alone. He was there with you. You helped him in everything. You loved him and watched him bury and mourn his beloved woman. He hadn't slept in many nights, his eyes were red and his face was drawn and sunken, and he had probably lost weight. He didn't remember much of the ceremony, he was numb and had been on sedatives for several days.

Days passed, and attempts to contact Spencer were in vain, he wasn't at work, he didn't answer his phone. You went to the staircase of his apartment, to the tenement house where he lived. You'd sometimes pass JJ or Blake going up or down the same stairs. You knew the stairs by heart by now, and every time you went on the second floor up them it only got worse. Penelope left more baskets of food and necessary things by his door. Eventually they disappeared, he had to take them when no one was there, he had to survive somehow, not leaving the apartment.

You couldn't handle it, but you tried not to show it. Despite that, the rest seemed to notice your suffering. They certainly did, knowing how close you were. Suddenly you felt betrayed, rejected. What the fuck was that? You were always there for him, always, you loved him, he seemed to love you sincerely too. And in the end, he suffered because of the loss of another woman. How did she achieve this so quickly? You wanted to be understanding, but you didn't know how. You had the right to hate him, but you didn't do that either. You were left empty.

Without optimism, without a spark in the eyes, without what you started with.

You knocked on his door again, even though you had a feeling it wouldn't make much difference. Your voice was loud enough to be heard, but tired.

"You know Spencer, it's me again." You started uncertainly, having to think about every word so as not to say something stupid. It was a delicate situation. After a moment, you continued. "I just want to know how you're holding up." You leaned toward the dark, wooden door with a small plaque with the number 23.

You heard faint movements and rustling on the other side of the door, but no response. You sighed quietly. "Maybe you don't want to talk to anyone. Okay, I'm not forcing you. I think I look a little stupid talking to the door, though."

Suddenly you heard the sound of the lock turning in the door. The door opened slowly, as if he was wondering if he wanted to open it. Finally you saw him in the doorway, dressed in a thick sweater, deep in mourning. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair uncombed. The curtains in the apartment were drawn, and it was a general mess, which you could only see because of what you could see behind him, in the back of the apartment. "Hey." He was barely holding on.

You wanted to help him, to be there for him again, but you no longer felt entitled to do so. He stepped aside, wordlessly inviting you into the apartment. You immediately opened one of the windows, not much, just enough so that the fresh air would make him feel better. You repeated your previous question. You were standing close to him, but at a safe distance. "How are you feeling?" You asked in a soft voice with your typical concern.

"Not so well." He answered shortly, he didn't have the strength to talk.

You didn't push. Hell, you couldn't even talk to him. It was almost like you were standing there with a stranger, not with the man, you loved so much. The light you loved so much was gone from this room. It was almost completely dark. The air was thick with lose and indecision.

He walked over to you, more tears flowing from his eyes. Suddenly you were his support again. He hadn't really cried in days, he just didn't have the strength anymore. Seeing you made him realize everything he had done. He clung to you like you were his last lifeline, he clung to no one else but you. You heard his sobbing and some quiet words, you didn't even understand what they were, there were tears in your eyes too, but you didn't hug him like you usually did.

On the corner of the table, the same book was lying again, this time without the brown ribbon. You were lucky you didn't see the dedication inside. It would have destroyed you even more. Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another.

He cried on your shoulder, and you pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart. Why did he even feel entitled to this, why did he keep leaning on you? You felt like screaming. You really wanted to scold him, but it probably wasn't appropriate at the time.

Again you were there for him, it was always you at the end of the day.

~

The atmosphere at work was tense, heavy. Everyone seemed to be behaving normally, but it wasn't like usual. No one talked to you about the incident anymore, except maybe Penelope, who as always tried to talk to you, to make you feel a little relieved, brought you those herbal, sweet teas with syrups that you loved. She didn't delve into the subject, so as not to drag out your own pain, she skirted the subject all the time. Basically, everyone was tiptoeing around you, which irritated you. Damn, you didn't want any forced pity.

A few weeks passed, Spencer went back to work, but you didn't talk more than necessary and everyone noticed the changes between you. You became colder, distant. After all, your relationship wasn't supposed to affect the team's work. But was it even a relationship anymore?

You bit your nails, picked at the cuticles around your nails, scratched off the polish. You clenched your fists, dug your nails into your palms, leaving indentations in the shape of half moons on the palms of your hands. Every morning you looked at him with a storm in your eyes, and he didn't notice the signals you were sending him.

You had to talk to him, there was no other way. He had avoided you during Maeve's case and the funeral, and after that you had only had this one, harmless conversation because you didn't want to overwhelm him with more things right away. But now you were the one who was overwhelmed. You cared about his well-being, but not your own. It had always been like that, you were mainly concerned about him, even if it was ultimately overwhelming for you.

Was it worth it? Because I don't think so.

Having a free moment, you approached him and approached him. You wondered if you should do it or just back off, but your tongue got the better of you and the words came out. "We should talk."

He immediately turned to you. He knew this conversation would come, but somehow he wasn't ready for it. But he also knew how much worry and pain he had caused you, he couldn't put it off forever and keep running away. Grief wasn't an excuse. "Fine."

You found a spot in the hallway, a little more private, far enough away so you wouldn't be conspicuous through the glass doors. No one in the bullpen needed to hear your conversation or see what you did. You didn't promise predictability.

You could see he wanted to start calmly, like it always was between you, but you started abruptly first. "Spencer, what was that all about?"

He wasn't looking at you again, suddenly the floor seemed much more interesting. "What does that mean?"

"Don't suddenly act stupid, you're not stupid and unintelligent. What was wrong with our relationship?" You play brave, tough. You play because you don't feel that way.

He looked up, his lips pressed into a line. “Nothing. Everything was fine.” His answers were distant.

You shook your head slightly. “Spencer, talk to me, I don’t want any half-spells. You know what, I would expect this from anyone, anyone, but you."

He let you down, he let you down and that hurt him the most. He wasn't what you deserved. "I'm sorry." You could feel the shame in his voice but you didn't want shame or an apology because there was nothing left to save.

"I don't want your sorry. I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy. I didn't expect anything in return, not even though I got your feelings in return, I'm not saying I didn't, I won't lie. But how did you replace me so easily?" And your bravery quickly crumbled, and tears appeared in your eyes, you blinked a few times.

Silence.

"Do something, say something! You won't lose anything anyway." You were starting to get angry. This was the first time you had been angry at him like this and you had allowed yourself to be angry. "Because what else can you lose?" Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut and not said that. It sucks, it happens.

He swallowed hard. "You. I could lose you." He knew those words wouldn't do much now, but he tried anyway.

"Oh, you're just now thinking about this? And where, excuse me, were you earlier?! Sorry I forgot, in a phone booth. And you didn't see my gray face, how sick we've become, and if you noticed, you wouldn't admit it." You didn't mince your words, you deserved to be genuinely mad.

"I..."

You should have let him talk, you should have, but you didn't. "No, listen to me! You acted like the biggest, selfish asshole and I don't know what you were thinking!" He had never seen you so upset with him, but he didn't interrupt. "What did you miss, what did I miss?"

He deserved those words, he knew he deserved them. He didn't even try to argue, he accepted the harsh words. It hurt him more when he heard your question. "No, no, you didn't lack anything. It's my fault and I'm really sorry. You were so good and sweet to me, it's all my fault." He didn't want to lose you too, but he worked for it.

"You can't change anything, beating yourself up now won't change anything... Spence." You hesitated to address him that way at all. You weren't as loud as you had been a few seconds ago, but I guess he preferred it that way. It was easier for him to accept your anger and the hurling of insults than the disappointment in your voice. And that was exactly what was in your voice - disappointment.

He looked almost like a beaten puppy. "I know, I realize that." He thought for a moment; he wasn't in the habit of swearing. "I screwed up."

"Yes, and I don't deny it. I really thought you'd be honest. I wish I had known from the beginning, maybe it would have been easier." You had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't be stupid enough to cry. "I thought it was honest. My own pain was such an imposition."

He reached out and ran his hand through the hair on top of your head. He didn't want to scare you, to do something you wouldn't like, he held his hand there for a moment. "It wasn't an imposition, don't think like that. And you shouldn't have known this from the start, in fact I shouldn't have done it at the first."

You wanted to ask what Maeve had that you didn't, but you didn't even have the courage. You pulled his hand away from your hair. "Those are nice words, but we both know you can't take back your actions, which said something completely different." You bit the inside of your cheek until you finally spoke again. "You're losing me."

He didn't blame you for rejecting his hand, he understood that perfectly well, you had every right to avoid him, but he still felt a pang. He shook his head slightly. "No, don't say that, please."

"But it's over, Spence. You kind of decided that yourself. I'm really sorry she's gone, but helping with a case like hers is one thing, and love is another. I know you and I saw, well... that." You didn't want to bring up the brutal murder directly. "That's what love looked like."

For a moment you stood in silence, he couldn't deny it and you didn't know what to say. Without a word you turned around and started walking down the hallway towards the glass doors, a few tears in your eyes balanced between your lash line and the corners of your eyes.

Spencer lost something again, but you were no longer there for him.

See? I told you so.

You know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 4: angst with a happy ending.

Once upon a time, when the world almost ended and didn't, Eddie Munson used to think that surviving the near apocalypse would be the most difficult thing he'd ever have to do in his life. Surely being bitten to death, then resurrected by the big bad, then breaking away from his influence and helping save the world, that must have counted for something, right? He'd earn a happy end through all that suffering.

Well, no. Not really. That's what he learned the second the portal to the Upside Down closed. The lovely people of Hawkins still hated him, he and Wayne had nowhere to live because their trailer split open, and he barely escaped another group of government scientists very much interested in the whole "came back to life" thing.

It was only natural Eddie ran. Why wouldn't he? He brought Wayne only bad luck, even worse reputation, and a bunch of extra expenses. His friends from the Corroded Coffin? Tortured by Jason to find his location. The freshmen he dragged into Hellfire? Also targeted. Eddie's name was a target on the back on everyone he loved and he wouldn't stay long enough for it to put the others in danger. Not Wayne, Dustin…Steve. Steve who confused him as much as enticed him. But Hawkins wasn't the place to explore this forbidden space in Eddie's head.

Indy sounded like a good destination and so that's where he went. He wrote a bunch of goodbye letters, trying to explain, but mostly to ease the pain. I will be in touch once I settle in, he said in them. He was never a good liar, not even on paper.

The whole Upside Down affair had robbed him of everything. His baby, his guitar. His closest relationships. His only proper home. The future he saw with himself and the Corroded Coffin. But he still had his life, so that was something.

He made friends, but not really. How do you make a real connection with someone when you can't tell them anything about the most important event in your life? How do you explain staring at every girl with golden blond ponytail on the street, dreading the moment they turn around because it won't be her?

He would send letters to Wayne sometimes. They would be long, talking about this and that, he would sometimes call too. But he noticed that for how much he talked, the content was empty. He wondered if Wayne noticed too. He must have - his uncle was the most perceptive man he'd ever met. He sent a bunch of short messages to Dustin via Wayne, just to keep him from going all Sherlock Holmes on Eddie. He swore to visit them both one day. Just not today. Or tomorrow.

The only good thing about his life in Indy was the anonymity of a large city and with that, the possibility to explore who he really was. He saved as much as he could and bought a new guitar. It would never be like his first love, but he could get back to music and drive his roommates insane with how out of practice he was. He'd play here and there, become very slightly famous in the local queer community. Sometimes his performances would earn him a free drink, sometimes a kiss. Or if he was really good, company for the night.

Five years in, it was going fairly well, he thought. He wasn't completely broke, he could kiss who he wanted - boys, how long it took him to admit that!, his songs got more genuine. He even wrote a bunch about Hawkins, never naming the place or people, of course, but it helped him work through some stuff. And on some days, he didn't even think much about what and who he'd left behind.

Until that fateful evening when he was scheduled to perform in his frequented gay bar. He sat on his usual stool on the podium with his acoustic guitar, greeted the regulars, and said his usual spiel: "This one is about a very special boy. He wore a yellow sweater, saved my life a bunch of times. Was really badass too. I think he made me realize who I really am, even if he never knew how I feel about him."

He never gave the song a name. He considered "His vest over my bleeding heart", or maybe something like "Keep me like you kept the vest", something with sunflowers, nail bats, perfect hair. Everyone in the bar knew he hated naming his songs anyway, so he took a deep breath and got ready to play.

Only then did he notice a familiar shade of yellow near the bar. And a surprised, but still a smile.

Eddie didn't run that evening. He finished the set, thanked his supporters and fans, and then he found himself sitting next to Steve Harrington, the man from his songs and dreams.

"Everyone misses you like crazy. They still hope you'll stop by, but I get it. I just feel lucky as hell. I didn't think I'd see you again," said Steve and it sounded sad. Like he actually missed Eddie too.

"I didn't think I'd find you in a place like this," responded Eddie. He wanted it to sound more rough, defensive, but his heart betrayed him and it was more of a question. Of a plea.

Steve smiled at him again, and maybe it was Eddie's imagination, but did he shift closer to him? "You haven't seen me in a long time, Eddie. This is exactly the place you'd find me these days. And now…I don't even need to drag Robin with me as an excuse."

Oh. Okay. Eddie could work with that. Licking his lips, he prodded even more. "So…uh. I take it you still haven't found what you're looking for?"

Steve turned to him fully, reaching out for Eddie's hand, and Eddie realized that he might have been wrong. This might be his happy ending after all.

Especially when Steve's lips parted and he said: "I have now."

Eddie would visit Wayne. He'd call Dustin, catch up with Gareth and others. Because he no longer felt like a bad omen. The morning he woke up next to Steve Harrington, with a careful promise of much more than one night, with pancakes for breakfast and talking, so much real talking with no secrets and no lies, he decided that he was ready to stop running. For good this time.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I’m so tired of feminist women over 40 saying how they continue to be invisible to men the older they get.

I have never felt invisible to men and I’m close to 50. I do not try to be visible to men. I simply take care of myself and that naturally increases my visibility.

Today in my rebounding class, a young attractive Italian guy in his 20s asked for my number after class. Another lady in class commented on how attractive he was. After letting him know that I wasn’t interested and having a chat, I said to him that I was going towards 50 years old.

Santos was stunned. He, like everyone else, could not believe it. He said “I thought you were 25.” He was completely shocked and said “you are very beautiful” which made me blush because I could feel his sincerity. And I was sweaty in leggings and had my hair in two messy afro puffs in a gray winter climate. But it is really my aura, the fact that I don’t carry a lot of density in me, along with my love of being a woman, that attracted him at the level of the *unconscious.*

As we get older in these beautiful female bodies, our physical merely becomes a hologram of what lives in our subconscious in ways that we can no longer mask, hide, or lean on through youth or genetics. I was never the “pretty” or “beautiful” girl growing up; I was the smart girl. The “good” girl. The “nice” girl. But what I have learned is that every year we truly take care of ourselves will add up overtime and radiate out into the world in a higher frequency eventually.

Moral of the story —do not believe these women who say they are invisible to men because many of these women have spent years, their whole lives, living in their heads or complaining about their monthly cycles, not fully embracing being a woman. Now they want men to find them attractive after all those years of being disconnected from their own bodies. Over the years that constant dissonance and disconnection with self will add up and show through one's aura.

You must enjoy being a woman. This real genuine enjoyment is your magnetism.

Take care of your body. Be aware of what you are feeding your mind and your skin. Love your bleed time. Find ways to enjoy your breasts. Smile at yourself in the mirror. Nurture your softness. Laugh often- don’t take everything so seriously. Destress and nourish yourself in ways that stop you from having monthly cramps. Believe in something much more than what you have been taught about female physiology. Be lighthearted and connected to earth. Grounded. Let go, get rid of some things, sometimes people included. There are some deeper female mysteries that I will keep more veiled and private on this blog but will teach openly in my online school. I am a feminine wisdomkeeper which means that much of my work happens behind closed doors and in the underworld of the body and psyche.

All in all, when you *consciously* spend time being good to your body and saying good things about every facet of your womanhood and femaleness, then you won’t have any problem with people of all walks of life being attracted to you. Every year your aura will get bigger and bigger, more radiant and alive. Adore yourself and the world can’t help but to love and adore you back….at any age.

Living on earth is a game of frequency and consciousness. Nothing more or less.

—India Ame’ye

[gauguinhater69]

Guys, I’ve had Thoughts.

House’s childhood isn’t really explored in a whole lot of depth during the show. The only details we get are some brief mentions of his father’s abuse and the fact that House grew up moving around a lot due to his father serving as a Marine Corps aviator.

I’m pretty sure the only countries that are directly mentioned in the show as being places that House grew up in are the States, Japan, the Philippines, and Egypt. Both of House’s parents are American, as far as I am aware? He also mentions having a Dutch grandmother in One Day, One Room, but I can’t remember if that’s ever mentioned again or if he just said that for the plot. Regardless, this makes House a Third Culture Kid (or TCK).

Third Culture Kid is a term used to describe people who grow up in a culture that's different from their parents' culture or the culture of their country of nationality. TCKs are often children of expatriate workers, including members of the military (like House), or they can also be the result of transnational marriages. TCKs often develop an identity that's based on relationships with people rather than places. 

I feel like this aspect of House’s upbringing explains a lot about his character and why he is The Way He Is. However, I think it was kind of glossed over in canon and could have been dealt with in a really interesting way, but instead they were just kind of like, “Haha, he read manga because army.”

Whether it was intentional by the writers or not, a lot of the ways House thinks, acts, and interacts with other characters is reflective of a TCK childhood. As a TCK myself, I unironically find House to be one of the best-written TCK characters I have ever come across, despite it not being explicitly discussed in the show (genuinely the only other TCK character in mainstream media that I can think of at the moment is Cady Heron from Mean Girls, who is not a good example, sorry girl).

The most compelling aspects of House’s personality, which I believe make him a well-developed representation of what it’s like to grow up as a third culture kid, include:

A complex relationship with authority and rules: TCKs often grow up in environments where they must navigate different sets of rules and authority figures, which could lead to a heightened skepticism about institutional authority. House's disregard for rules, his insubordination, and his tendency to challenge authority figures such as Cuddy, Vogler, Dr. Nolan, and even Wilson at times seem like an indication of a deeper mistrust of systems and structures. House appears to almost compulsively rebel against structure and situations where he is not completely in control, even if he knows that people are trying to help him, as seen in his time at Mayfield.

Alienation of self and others: I feel like this in particular is very central to House’s character and the show. He is constantly pushing the people who care about him away, like Stacy, Cuddy, Wilson, and the Ducklings. He avoids relationships (both romantic and platonic) and emotional connections with the people around him and believes that he is better off relying on himself alone. Many TCKs experience a sense of never truly fitting in anywhere and tend to alienate themselves (whether on purpose or not) because of it.

Detachment and critical thinking: House’s whole thing as a diagnostician is being able to see things from unconventional angles, and his sharp, often brutal, critical thinking is a reflection of this adaptive skill. However, this also contributes to his emotional detachment, as he prioritizes logic and objective analysis over subjective or cultural norms, distancing him from emotional involvement. Being exposed to a variety of different cultures, people, and cultural norms often contributes to TCKs developing the ability to view situations from multiple perspectives and come up with unusual solutions. This could also contribute to House deep desire to figure everything out, this includes the medical mysteries he solves, but also he needs to understand the actions and motivations of all the people around him. He wants to understand and know everything because this gives him a sense of control.

Deep need for control: Growing up in different places, where cultural norms and expectations may have shifted, could have made House feel like he had to assert control over his immediate surroundings to maintain some sense of stability. The trauma he experienced, particularly with his father’s abuse and emotional neglect, likely influenced this desire for control, as he may have associated control with safety and predictability. In addition to this, many TCKs create rigid systems or behavioural processes to compensate for a lack of “home”. House’s fractured sense of identity and personal trauma, which developed as a result of his experiences as a TCK, likely contributed to his need for control in all aspects of his life.

I also think these are all reasons why House is so drawn to Wilson. While Wilson is absolutely as much of a freak as House, he is the most stable and constant thing in House’s life (even more than his job as a doctor is). While medicine is extremely important to House, he works at the hospital on and off, unable to continue his practice while he is at Mayfield, and he ultimately gives up medicine entirely for Wilson. Through all the ups and downs of House’s life, Wilson is there, no matter how hard House tries to drive him away.

House values his relationship with Wilson above pretty much all other things in his life, because Wilson is one of the only constants in House’s life, which is something that House had been lacking before Wilson. House likely had developed the idea that relationships are fleeting due to his constant upheavals as a child, and this may be part of the reason why he is constantly pushing others away to try and save himself the pain of losing people.

However, Wilson keeps coming back no matter what. Despite the fact that House is rude and brash, despite the unhinged pranks, the borderline criminal acts, after House stole Wilson’s prescription pad, after House played a role in the death of Wilson’s girlfriend, again and again Wilson comes back.

I’m going insane, and I think this is very nearly incomprehensible. Does anyone else see the vision?