su8arandspite
su8arandspite
kayley👻
562 posts
formerly whatsaweasley0made of sugar n spite n everything nicewriter • she/her • 25it, stranger things fic (more to come!)
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su8arandspite · 20 days ago
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I will never be over this
i think the only ship that gets me genuinely upset that they weren't canon is derek morgan and penelope garcia. i will be completely firm in my opinion that i don't care about canon because i love ships that make no sense and aren't even in the same show together. but then i think about them and it's like hm. maybe this show is evil and stupid. maybe they don't know what they're doing actually.
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su8arandspite · 1 month ago
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doesnt my job understand i have a blooming fanfiction writing career to work on
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su8arandspite · 1 month ago
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there was literally nothing platonic about that goodbye in “beautiful disaster” s11 e18 but sure
the team is chasing the sickest murderers to ever live meanwhile these two on the phone sexually harassing each other
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su8arandspite · 1 month ago
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How to Start Writing Again When the Spark Fades
Sometimes the well of creativity runs dry, leaving you staring at a blank page with nothing but frustration. But trust that the art of writing is as much about the journey as it is about the destination. Here are some ideas to help you reconnect with your writing practice when you feel like your passion has dimmed.
Redefine Your Environment Consider taking a deliberate step outside your usual writing space. The environment in which you work can drastically affect your mindset and creative flow. Even if it’s setting up in a different corner of your home, finding refuge in a local café, or enjoying the subtle distractions of a park bench, a change in scenery often signals a mental reset. This isn’t about permanent relocation, just a simple shift can break the monotony and stir new ideas that have been hiding in plain sight.
Embrace Imperfection The pressure to produce perfect prose can be paralyzing. Give yourself permission to create something imperfect yet honest. Think of every sentence you write as a rough sketch, a necessary experiment in understanding your own voice. When you allow yourself the space to write without the weight of perfection, you invite experimentation and genuine self-expression. That freedom lies at the heart of rediscovering why you fell in love with writing in the first place.
Set Incremental Goals for Continuous Momentum When the idea of diving into a full chapter feels overwhelming, scale back to manageable, bite-sized projects that feel achievable. Instead of demanding a polished page, challenge yourself to write a paragraph or even a single sentence each day. These micro-goals build a foundation of small successes, gradually restoring confidence and momentum. Over time, these consistent efforts enrich your creative reservoir, proving that every little step is indeed a victory.
Engage Deeply in the Process of Freewriting Allow yourself to spill thoughts onto the page without judgment or expectation. Freewriting is an exercise in vulnerability and self-exploration, offering you a space to unburden tangled ideas and unexpected insights. In these unfiltered moments, you might stumble upon a germ of an idea or a rediscovered passion that rekindles your creative fire. Embracing this unstructured approach can transform an intimidating blank page into an open canvas of potential you haven't tapped back into.
Rekindle Old Inspirations There is power in revisiting the work and moments that first ignited your creative spirit. Even if it’s rereading an old journal entry, rediscovering a favorite piece of literature, or reflecting on the stories that once moved you, reconnecting with your past inspirations can shed new light on your present creative journey. This reflective practice not only reminds you of your original passion but may also reveal new directions for your current writing endeavors.
Create a Consistent, Loving Writing Routine Creating a structured yet gentle routine can help reestablish your relationship with writing. Treat your writing time as a vital appointment, a moment carved out just for you. Even if inspiration seems scarce, the simple act of sitting down, opening your notebook, and letting words flow without self-censorship can be incredibly healing. Over time, this practice transforms writing from an obligation into a ritual of self-discovery and mindfulness.
Connect with a Community That Understands Engaging with fellow writers can remind you that you’re not alone in this struggle. The shared experience of creative highs and lows can be profoundly comforting. Join writing groups, participate in online forums, or simply reach out to someone whose work inspires you. These interactions foster a sense of belonging and accountability, encouraging you to keep writing even when the path isn’t clear. In the gentle exchange of ideas and feedback, there is often a spark that reignites your dedication.
Every writer’s journey is unique, filled with ebbs and flows. If you’re feeling disconnected, know that these moments are integral to growth. Embrace each phase as an opportunity to rediscover writing on its own terms, and allow your passion to guide you back into the words you love. If you need any advice from me, never be afraid to send me an ask.
Until next time, Rin T.
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su8arandspite · 1 month ago
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Spencer Hastings could survive Criminal Minds but Spencer Reid could not survive Pretty Little Liars
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su8arandspite · 1 month ago
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Feels Like Forever
Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day 1991, and Steve has a romantic getaway planned for himself and his girlfriend. But it might be a little more than a weekend away. Or, alternatively, the one where Steve has a very important question he wants to ask Beth.
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steve harrington x female!oc
warnings and content: not proofread, probably not geographically accurate, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, smut, mentions of breeding, slight praise kink, unprotected sex
Just a lil (tiny bit late) valentine’s day blurb and some self-indulgence in oc fics. I have mixed feelings about this tbh but i love steve and beth so much & i’d like to send a big thank you to @powderblueblood for encouraging me
word count: 2.9k
(psst: want more beth & steve? Here 1 2 3 are some old classics from the vault ;)) )
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“ARE you sure you know where we’re going?” 
Beth turned her gaze away from the passing countryside to lock onto the man sitting in the drivers’ seat beside her. Steve drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beat of the radio, which he had turned on low.
“Yes,” he scoffed. “Maybe. I’m pretty sure it’s just straight down this road and then we turn after the… cornfield”
Steve’s cheeks pinkened. There were miles of cornfields, nothing but them, as they drove through rural Indiana. The laugh that Beth gives in return is kind, mirthful.
“Oh, Steve,” Beth reached to retrieve the map from his glovebox. As she unfolded it, she broke out into a playful grin. “Where would you be without me?” 
She clicked her tongue playfully. Steve tore his eyes away from the road just in time to witness the glow in her eyes as a ray of sunshine caught the hazel and warmed it into the color of fresh honey. He reached for her, gently squeezing her hand in his.
“Darling,” Steve shook his head and pressed a feather-light kiss to her knuckles. “I don’t wanna know.”
“Good,” she breathed over a giggle. “‘Cause you’re stuck with me.”
“Promise?”
Her laugh and the soft hum of agreement she gave with it was like smooth butter melting over toast, and Steve was just as soft. 
This little Valentine’s Day weekend getaway was much-needed. Beth had been working herself too hard, taking up extra shifts at the hospital, and Steve had missed her terribly. She came home tired and overworked more often than not. Beth took care of everyone around her—in and out of work; he only wanted her to feel taken care of, too. It took minimal convincing on Steve’s part to talk her into a weekend for just the two of them. He took Nancy’s suggestion of a place off of Lake Michigan where she and Jonathan had gone some time prior.
“Okay,” she said, tapping at something on the map. “So, I think the turn’s just up the road…”
Sure enough, the sign stuck out of the cornfields just enough for her to spot it. 
“Well, would you look at that,” she teased. “It was by the cornfield.”
The eyeroll Steve gave in response was half-hearted. “See?” 
Beth shifted in her seat as the car finally turned off the gravel road. She tilted her head to look out the window, leaning against it like a little kid. It wasn’t long until the cabin came into view, a quaint little structure that looked cozy and inviting in the winter cold.
Despite her best efforts, Steve refused to let her help him carry the bags inside. She acquiesced and took him up on his suggestion to check the place out instead.
Steve watched with a lovestruck grin as Beth rushed to the back deck. She gripped the bannister and stared out at the view. Even in the dead of winter, the scenery was breathtaking. Lake Michigan was just visible through the trees and what bit of it Beth could make out was frozen solid. Winter or not, she doubted they would have any trouble staying warm in their cozy little cabin.
Mischief shined in her eyes as she completed her visual sweep of the back deck. The jacuzzi had a perfect view out on the nature below and clear through to the water.
“Ooh,” she lilted. “Look, Steve: hot tub!”
This finally pulled him away from the bag he was busy rummaging through and out to join her. Steve padded over to her side like a puppy, eager to find her touch. He hooked his chin over her shoulder. A content sigh rumbled through his chest as his hands slid around her waist, fingers gripping to pull her flush against him. Steve’s breath tickled her neck as he spoke:
“Whaddya say we test it out?”
His hands were warm as they slid under her sweater, heating her where the chilly air hit and spreading from the inside out. Beth shifted in his embrace until their faces were mere inches apart. 
“I’d say: ‘let’s do it, lover boy.’”
The sweet sound of Beth’s laughter faded into a shriek as he lifted her clean off the ground.
“As you wish.”
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Steve insisted on planning the weekend for the both of them; he kept as much of it a surprise from Bethany as he could get away with. She only managed to pull it out of him once they were in the car that he was taking her to that zoo she had mentioned wanting to see for the day. Dinner was still a mystery, but she had until 7 PM to weasel her way to that information.
The Washington Park Zoo teemed with families and couples alike. As they strolled through the gift shop, Steve absently rubbed his thumb over the back of Beth’s hand that he was holding. He was pulled from his thoughts by her voice:
“Look, Steve! He kinda reminds me of you,” She held up a small stuffed lion. “You know, sweet face, cool hair…”
Steve took the toy in his free hand and held it up close to his face, puppeting it, “Funny you should say that, because he and I just so happen to both think that you are the most beautiful woman we’ve ever seen.”
She flushed, “Why, thank you.”
“What’s that?” He held it up to his ear, nodding in agreement. “He says he wants to come home with us.”
Beth’s eyes sparkled. Playing along, she took another half-step closer to Steve and gripped its little paw in her hand. “Yeah?”
“Welcome to the family, little guy,” locking eyes with Steve, she beamed. “Say hello to your new Daddy.”
Beth turned on her heel and sauntered further down the aisle. Steve’s cheeks burned and he stood, stunned, until his brain caught up and he ducked away towards the checkout counter before she could even tell him that she had only been joking.
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When time to leave for their dinner reservations rolled around, Steve was the last one ready. Beth stood in the living room, leaning over the mirror by the foyer, and giving her lipstick one last glance over, while he was nowhere to be found.
Steve had been fully dressed for a while—crisp button down, even a tie and sports coat— but he was so busy running over things in his mind that he lost track of time. Only the sound of her voice calling his name was enough to pull Steve out of his stupor.
He reached a hand into his pockets one last time; some of the tension released from him as his hand gripped around velvet. Squaring his shoulders, he rushed out to meet her.
“Wow,” he breathed. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” she leaned into his touch to meet his kiss. “And you look very handsome.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” She nodded. “Very.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Steve pulled away enough to whisper. “I love you.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she repeated. “I love you, too.”
Steve leaned in for another peck, but didn’t quite make it there.
“Ah,” she gently placed her palm to his chest, head shaking. “As much as I love where this is heading, we have to go. We’ll be late.”
An exaggerated whine escaped him. Steve hung his head. He lingered just a moment with his nose breathing in the scent of her perfume:
“All right,” he lifted his head, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips to punctuate each word. “Just. One. More. Kiss.”
Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from her. While Beth went ahead to the car, Steve made a show of turning the key. He didn't turn back to join Beth until the lock clicked back into place and the deadbolt was retracted. With the door left unlocked, Steve jogged over to his car. Step one: check.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her leaning casually against the beemer, her blonde locks cascading effortlessly over her shoulders, and the flowy skirt of her cherry red evening dress peeking out from beneath her coat. She was the picture of beauty, and Steve nearly forgot how to think.
Adjusting his jacket, Steve pressed one final kiss to her cheek. He opened up the passenger door and helped her inside.
As he rounded the car, Steve tapped his hand to the trunk twice. And now: dinner.
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“Okay,” Steve lowered his hands. “You can look now.”
When Beth opened her eyes, she blinked a few times to adjust to the new lighting. The cabin was dimly illuminated by candlelight, affording a soft glow to the room and emitting a pleasant vanilla scent. Rose petals scattered the floor in a path down the hall, guiding her towards the living room. She followed hesitantly, bolstered by the gentle squeeze of Steve’s hand to her shoulder.
The trail led into the main room where it tapered off just before a semi-circle of candles. Steve moved to stand in the center of it. Tears slipped from his eyes before Steve even hit the ground. He knelt on one knee and, with shaky hands, clumsily opened the ring box.
“I love you so, so much, Bethany Lynn Sullivan—honestly, I have for a very long time now—and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And, if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same. Will you marry me?”
From where Steve knelt, the candlelight just brushed over her face and the single hall light hovered over her head, reflecting like a halo over her blonde hair.
“Steve, yes. Of course, I’ll marry you!”
His hands shook as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It slotted into place like it was always meant to be there. Robin was right, he thought, it was the perfect ring. The band was a shiny yellow gold that stood out against the halo setting. Smaller stones of white diamond and emerald clustered around a one carat diamond that Steve had saved up for for months.
Wiping stray tears from his eyes, he stood, quick to pull her in for a tight embrace. He kissed her with everything he had. Unable to contain his excitement, he lifted her up off of the ground, spinning in a heated smooch.
“Did you do all of this yourself?”
“No,” He shook his head. “Actually, I had a little help from Robin and Eddie. Wanted to keep it a surprise, you know?”
“It’s perfect,” she hummed.
Steve’s heart swelled within his chest so quickly that he was surprised it didn’t just beat clean out of his rib cage. The kiss was a messy blur— his teeth and greedy tongue nipped away her lipstick, grasp liberally taking handfuls of hip and ass, and her hands tangled up in his hair. She tasted of champagne and sugar from the ice cream they shared at dinner; it was every bit as sweet as Beth was. 
The moments that followed were a blur of kisses and champagne. Steve can’t even remember how they ended up in the bathroom or if it had been him or Beth who started the bath. Their clothing long since forgotten, the couple clambered into the soapy water.
Steve sat up on his knees, turning around to face outside the bathtub. He slotted into place between Beth’s knees from where she sat on the edge. His hands slid over the smooth skin of her thighs, grip tightening to hold her in place. Steve spread her open with one hand, licking a long stripe from her wetness up to her clit. His eyes fluttered shut with a groan of arousal and he finally wrapped his lips around her clit, suckling greedily. Every sigh that Beth breathed out went straight to his cock. It twitched with want, neglected, save for what tiny bit of relief he found from bumping his hips against the tub.
“God,” he whined against her. “Such a good girl. Taste so fuckin’ sweet. My good girl.”
Her canary yellow nail polish popped against Steve’s chestnut locks which she grabbed handfuls of and pulled at the roots of in just the way she knew drove him crazy. More praise dripped freely from his lips, every word hurdling her closer to the edge. Pure pleasure and white-hot pressure built up inside Beth until she could hardly stand it. With one last cry of his name, her thighs clenched tightly around his head.
His iron grip on her thigh was the only thing to keep Beth in place through her climax, centering her between each convulsion. Finally, Steve pulled away from her core with a lewd pop. He planted one final sweet peck to her inner thigh, muttering just loud enough for her to pick up on: “I love you.”
Gently, he helped lower her into the warm water. Beth settled facing him, her legs straddling the bottom parts of his thighs. She dropped a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “I love you, too.”
Her kiss-swollen lips slotted against his in yet another sloppy make out. Blindly, she reached her hand between their bodies and palmed lightly at his erection. Her touch was tentative, teasing, as she wrapped her hand around him and slowly began to twist her wrist.
Steve’s jaw lowered in awe. The new jewelry sparkled each time it caught the light and fuck did it look just perfect wrapped around his cock. It was a nod to Steve and the rest of the world that Beth was his fiancée, soon his wife. And the idea alone nearly made him spill into her hand like an overeager teenager. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whined. “Ah, I need to be inside you. Please”
“Yeah?”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Beth stabilized herself with her hands now gripping his shoulders. Careful not to slip, she straddled him fully and sank herself down onto him. Steve reached to clasp her hands in his as she began to slowly ride him.
It’s messy and sweet, like the rosewater bubbles that had started to fade away around them.  Water sloshed softly with every rock of her hips, slightly drowning out Steve’s whimpers in the same way Beth’s pants muffled out into the warm skin of his shoulder where her head drooped to rest against.
“Ah, ‘m gonna cum,” he bucked his hips up to fuck into her in tandem with the slow rock of her hips. “Gonna come inside of you and— shit, just like that— fuck a baby into you.”
“Me too,” she whined. “Steve, ‘m gonna cum”
Steve’s grip was bruising as he stilled her, fucking up into her one last time. He swiped his thumb lazily over her clit until her second orgasm milked him. Beth was pliant in his arms, slightly sweaty skin plastered to his.
“You know,” Steve broke the silence as he wiped her clean. “I’ve actually been holding onto that ring for a while now.”
“Really?” She smiled, opening her tired eyes to get a good look at him. “For how long?”
“A year.”
He paused his fingers where they had been combing through her hair. Steve’s cheeks burned and swelled as his lips curved into a sheepish smile. 
“It’s perfect,” Beth assured him.
“And so are you.”
As Steve rinsed the shampoo from her hair and Beth turned to start on him, he let her in on another secret: “How does September 16th sound?”
“I think it sounds nice.”
“Good,” he hummed. “I, uh, I don’t know if you remember this, actually, but I wanted it to be then because it was on that day when I first thought I wanted to marry you. I mean, okay, technically, we were 6 and it probably doesn’t really mean anything, but I meant it. You kissed me on the playground behind the slide because I punched Tommy for destroying your art project.”
“God, I’d forgotten about that,” she laughed. “But, yeah. That sounds perfect, Steve.”
“Good,” he hummed. “Okay, so a fall wedding it is.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. So, who’s gonna be your best man? Eddie, or Dustin?”
Steve thought it over for a minute, “Dustin, definitely. After all, he is the one who pushed us together in the first place.”
She laughed. “That’s true.”
Steve grinned and splayed one hand over her belly, musing, “We should name our first born after him, actually.”
“Woah, slow down, there, Mr. Mom,” she patted her hands to his, laughing. “Wedding first, then we can talk about babies.”
Steve pushed his lower lip out in a playful pout, “Fine. But, for the record, you’re gonna be really cute when you’re pregnant”
Her cheeks flushed. “I’m actually not sure about the name, though. I may or may not have lost a bet to Eddie and drunkenly promised to name my eldest child after him.
“Okay,” He snorted, “How does ‘Eddie Dustin’ Harrington sound?”
“It has a certain ring to it.”
Another idea occurred to him as they finally clamored out of the rapidly cooling water, letting the tub drain as Steve grabbed each of them a fresh towel.
“Hey,” Steve perked up. “We can still practice making babies, right?”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite stifle the chuckle this pulled from her. “Yes, you idiot.”
“Okay, good,” he hummed. 
Steve cupped her cheeks in his hands. It drew her eyes to his. He didn’t even wait for the laughing fit to subside before he leaned in to kiss her again. She clasped her hands over hers, and he massaged his thumb over the diamond on her engagement ring.
“I love you, Mrs. Harrington,” Steve whispered as he wrapped the towel around her frame. 
“I love you, too, Mr. Harrington.”
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pls excuse any typos, to be edited later
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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me when i saw spencer reid info dump for the first time
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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never forget what they took from us
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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i actually can’t stop creating more oc x canon fics
like what started out as an x reader fic suddenly has an entire backstory and a name and everything
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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Date? Date!
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Summary: Reader asks Spencer if he wants a date (the food item). Miscommunication ensues. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: food mentions, miscommunication, awkwardness 
Word count: 700
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Early into your career at the FBI you learned how important it was to take good care of yourself. Long and irregular work hours made it difficult to nourish your body, so you made it a habit to always pack some healthy snacks.
Recently you discovered your love for dates - a fruit packed with fiber and potassium while satiating your sweet tooth. 
You grabbed a small container from your bag while your eyes landed on your favorite coworker. Months ago you noticed that his main source of energy was coffee and refined sugar, so without thinking too much about it, you decided to offer him an alternative. 
“Date?” You asked once Spencer found your eyes. 
“Wh…what?” He muttered. “You’re asking me… just like that?” 
His reaction was a little confusing but it wasn't the first time that the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid left you a bit puzzled. 
"Yeah, of course! I think it’ll be good for you!” You chirped to encourage him. 
“You think?” His mouth stayed agape after those words made it past his lips. 
You raised your eyebrows at him and withdrew your offer, “You obviously don’t have to. You can just say no.”
“No, no, it’s not that! I just.. I have never been… I mean… I have never really… had a date?” He muttered.
“Really? That's hard to believe.” You couldn't hide the surprised tone in your voice. Dates were pretty popular, you had never met anyone who hadn’t tried one.
“It’s true…,” he mumbled.  
“Maybe it’s time for you to try it!” 
"I... have thought about it. A lot actually." Spencer whispered while his eyes dropped to the floor. "With you specifically"
At this point you definitely couldn't hide your confusion anymore. You took one date out of the plastic container to look at it before you said, "You have thought about eating dates with me?" 
When your eyes met his again you noticed the color draining from his face. The already pale doctor suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost. 
“You uhm… you… of course… you were talking about dates,” he stammered.
“Yes? What were you tal–” You stopped mid sentence when you realized. 
Oh.
Oh.
Spencer must have thought you were asking him out. 
Now his reaction made a lot more sense. 
Before you could say anything, Spencer quickly got up to leave the room. You could only imagine how embarrassed he must have been right then. Your heart began aching at the thought of hurting the person you cared so deeply about. 
The truth was that you were hoping for him to ask you out for months now. It was hard to tell if he actually liked you too, so you never had the courage to ask him yourself. 
It seemed like the cat was out of the bag now and it was your chance to finally ask him out for real. 
“Spencer!” You called out his name as you ran after him. “Wait, please!”
To your surprise he slowed down, coming to a halt right before he reached the elevators. 
“I just want to go catch some air,” he explained with a fake smile on his face. 
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” you said with a soft voice. “It was just a little misunderstanding.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s fine, really!” He lied while pressing the button of the elevators. 
“It’s true that I was just offering you a date, but…” you paused for a moment, noticing his eyes getting bigger. 
You almost got lost in the warm amber that were his irises. It was hard to actually speak the words you so clearly wanted to say. But you knew it was now or never. 
“... But I would really like to go out with you. On an actual date,” you confessed. 
The features of Spencer's face suddenly softened and it seemed like relief washed over him. 
“You do?” He wanted to make sure. 
“Yeah, I really do,” you confirmed.
A wide smile appeared on his face. “I would really like that, too. Maybe we could go out for dinner someday.”
“Dinner sounds a lot better than just eating dates together,” you laughed. 
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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someone stop me bc i currently have 3 massive long form unfinished series that i haven’t been writing for and im already in the early stages of another one bc ofc i am
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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he's so cute. i just want to bite him. and bite him. bite him again. bite him. bite him. bite him. let me sink my teeth on him.
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su8arandspite · 2 months ago
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su8arandspite · 9 months ago
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bby
STEVEEEEEEEEE
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su8arandspite · 9 months ago
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this feels like the time reagan got shot and i am once again saying that assassians (even amateurs) need better aim
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su8arandspite · 9 months ago
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I swear I get sad if I wake up and one is on the floor
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