#because to me twilight is like. watching a car crash | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lanitaminaj · 10 months ago

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all mine, pt. 2 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a long overdue part two to my all mine fic.

cw: toxic eren, detailed smut, cussing

mikasa knew she was in trouble.

her right leg bounced as she glanced out of the mercedes benz’s passenger side window, occasionally taking quick peeks at the man speeding dangerously down paradis avenue.

his jaw was clenched, and although there was barely any light due to the twilight-black colored sky, the streetlights they drove past allowed mikasa an occasional glimpse of how his veins materialized because of his tight grip on his steering wheel.

“i swear to god, mikasa. it’s like you live to piss me the fuck off.”

mikasa, of course, had gone to reiner braun’s party against eren’s wishes.

“it’s just a party,” mikasa found herself uttering, her eyes not daring to leave the passenger side’s window despite her bold words. from the internal reflection, she could see eren’s eyes narrow at her for a brief moment as the vehicle suddenly accelerated to a higher speed. “plus, i’m an adult, eren. you’re treating me like i’m a child.”

“mikasa i don’t give a fuck that you’re an adult, it’s not even fucking about that.” eren’s enraged, cerulean eyes remained on the road. despite the fact that he was cussing mikasa out, or the fact that he was going twenty-miles over the speed limit, the young man was not about to let them crash. “and even if i’m treating you like a child, so fucking what. you don’t know the guys around here, especially not assholes like reiner braun.”

“i had a good time,” mikasa provoked, finding the courage to study his face as he drove them into their neighborhood. the irritation eren felt failed to slacken. if anything, mikasa’s words only inclined eren down a further path of indignation. she watched as he bit the inside of his right cheek, his head shaking slightly as he laughed once to himself.

“oh, yeah?” eren questioned, his voice airy towards the end in mocked curiosity. “and what was the good time in question? drinking beer? smoking pot? or was it fun talking to those jackasses braun always brings around?”

“i had one beer,” mikasa grumbled.

eren nearly stopped the car right there.

“the fuck did you say?” a scowl grew on eren’s maddening face, his cheeks flushed from fury as the median of his full, dark eyebrows dipped downwards in exasperation. “you had what?”

“i’m eighteen,” mikasa replied, her response somewhat rushed as eren’s voice plunged in tone. “i’m allowed to drink what i want.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” eren’s deepened voice declared.

“eren,” the young woman found herself beginning to plead slightly. “eren, please it wasn’t that serious.”

“wasn’t that serious,” the young man repeated to himself, the tresses of his inky-black hair spiraling across his face and around his neck in his disbelieved state. “eighteen-year-old mikasa goes to a party where she not only talks to men older than her, but she also drinks a fucking beer with them, too.”

little teardrops began to race down mikasa’s rosy-cheeks, the pink-hue the result of the blush she applied hours earlier, and her genuine, overwhelmed state. “eren, please.”

“just wait ‘til we get home,” eren simply asserted, their home only one block away. mikasa felt herself silently cry, her shapely body gently trembling as she let herself weep because of the man beside her. the man in question refused to acknowledge her, the only final words that emerged from his filled lips were concise and straightforward:

“just wait until we get fucking home.”

he washes her face, careful and delicate as if she was a porcelain doll.

her hair had been released from its bun, her curt, raven-black hair flowed freely from her exhausted scalp. her teeth had been brushed for her, the affair carried out shortly after eren insisted she’d take two advil pills and a half cup of ginger ale for the beer-induced sickness she might begin to feel. even her outfit had been replaced, the pink, lacy-fabric summer dress she opted for was succeeded by one of eren’s plentiful, lengthy, smoke-grey t-shirts. conflicted as she felt about him currently, she was very appreciative of the change of clothes. it was comfortable, ending just short of her knees, and comforting, the familiar scents of sandalwood and tobacco pleasantly filled mikasa’s nostrils.

“you know i love you, right, miks?”

his fingers wrapped around a sky-blue face towel, the fabric slightly damp with tap water and a lavender-scented toner. he rubs mikasa’s cheeks clean of any makeup residue, her face back to her sun-tanned, ivory color.

“yes,” mikasa whispered, her words meant to appease the young man.

eren cooed at her, a soft, adoring sound of an aww drifted tenderly out of his lips. his fingers dropped the towelette into the sink just before they tucked a strand of mikasa’s moistened, crepuscular-hair behind her ear. “oh, miks. i didn’t meant to get that upset with you. i just get worried, baby.”

“i know,” the young woman replied, her face blushing a soft-red color as if she were a blossoming rose. eren’s fingers extended out, his palm now resting on mikasa’s left cheek. obediently, the acquiescent girl found herself leaning into his touch.

“but still-“ mikasa lightly attempted to counter, but was quickly shot down with a shh, shh.

“no, miks,” eren uttered, his thumb softly caressing the smoothness of mikasa’s freshly, clean face. her tender, wide eyes peered up to meet the pair of darkening, hollowed eyes. “let’s not talk about it anymore,” the boy finished, the flatness of his words ceasing any attempts of mikasa’s counterclaims.

mikasa obediently nodded, the action the direct result of eren’s widening smile.

“let’s watch a movie,” he dictated, the straightforwardness and flat-tone of his words made it clear to mikasa that he wasn’t asking of her, but commanding.

the girl nodded again, her svelte, dangling legs jumping off the sink as she submissively followed eren’s lanky steps towards the living room.

mikasa could feel the rise of eren’s chest against her tense, taut back.

eren’s steady, relaxed breathing soothed mikasa only slightly, the young woman finding it difficult to be assuaged so close to eren yeager.

his hands rested on her plump, tawny-tanned thighs, his right hand occasionally massaging her in an attempt to soothe the young woman.

“i love you,” eren breathed, his sharp-edged jaw resting on mikasa’s still shoulder.

mikasa remained soundless, her words lost as her mind couldn’t keep up with present time.

“really?” the young woman found her words.

“really.”

eren’s right hand glazed upwards on mikasa’s thigh, his warmth causing a permanent, cherry-red hue to gloss on the young woman's cheeks.

"eren," mikasa whispered through her breathless voice. "what are you doing?"

"shh," the young man shushed, his long, virile fingers stroked the lacy design of mikasa's black boy-shorts. "let me make you feel good."

his fingers rubbed gently as he touched her; the pressure he added increased the closer he stroked to the center of her core.

"miks," eren prompted, his honey-tan lips glazing over the blushing girl's goosebump-pricked left ear. "did anyone touch you like this at the party?"

"no," mikasa answered almost immediately, a hint of a moan escaping her azelea-pink, gnawed-on lips. eren's touch extended to lightly brushing against her clit, the sensation erotic yet badgering as he only touched her above her panties.

"no?" eren echoed, his left, veiny hand reaching up to cup mikasa's left tit above his own, oversized grey tee that she'd been adorned in. "not even like this?"

he pressed fully against her clit, his fingers stroking so firmly to where it gave mikasa no choice but to let a full-moan erupt from her lips.

"eren," she pleaded, her lips ruined by indentations from her eggshell-white teeth. "touch me."

"but i am."

mikasa could feel a light smile grazing the tip of her ears; somehow the coy action made her blush illuminate further.

"you know what i mean," mikasa whined, her hips unconsciously grinding against his fingers.

suddenly, as if it been a record scratch, eren's right hand swiftly gripped mikasa's reddening, inner thigh, his right hand on her clothed tit was held lightly on her throat. her neck was forced to swivel, the young woman's widened, grey eyes met with the young man's piercing, blue pair.

"say it," he commanded, causing a whimper to escape mikasa's lips.

"fuck me," she breathed. "fuck me, eren."

mikasa almost yelped at how rough and vicious eren pulled her panties down, the man giving her no warning as he rubbed his fingers down her throbbing and soaked cunt.

"so wet for me, mika," eren muttered. "you got wet like this for any boy at the party?"

"no," mikasa purred. "i told you i didn't do anything with any boy."

"good," eren responded, his fingers hitching down the edges of his underwear and pants all at once. he slipped his cock in mikasa as a groan escaped his lips, the act causing mikasa to moan. "let's keep it that way," eren finished.

as he fucked into her, soft chantings of "eren, eren, eren," left mikasa's plump o-shaped lips.

"yeah, baby," eren responded in the midst of making his own groans. "you love how i fuck you, hm? you love daddy's cock?"

"yes, daddy," mikasa breathed, her hand desperately thrashing against the bedsheets to find eren's own. he interlocked his icy fingers with her warm ones, their hands held together as they felt pleasure in each others' bodies.

it wasn't until when eren found that one spot deep in mikasa that the woman began to unravel.

"eren," mikasa whimpered. "i think i'm gonna-"

"-yeah, baby," eren interjected, his pace in her increasing as he was desperate to make his girl finish. "cum on my cock, baby. make a mess on it like you always do."

"cumming," she whispered, before her words gradually increased in pitch. "cumming, i'm cumming."

she could feel her stomach tighten up, her eyelids squeezing shut as she heard a loud array of moans leaving her lips. her tits hardened, a rose-red blush beaming vividly on her silky cheeks. eren himself pulled out of her as he reached his climax, a "fuck" leaving his mouth as he came on mikasa's cream-white belly.

he plopped right next to her on the bed, both parties breathing heavily through their mouths as they began to descent from the high. it was eren who opened his eyes first, a slight smile growing on his lips as he took in mikasa's peaceful, angelic form.

"you all sleepy, baby?" eren teased, his fingers pushing mikasa's raven-black tresses behind her ear as he watched the blush on her face increase. his smile grew.

"eren," she whispered, her eyelids opening to meet his cerulean-blue irises. "so tired."

"yeah?" he whispered back. "so tired, baby? all fucked out, huh?"

"mhm," the woman nodded, her eyelids fluttering shut as she drifted in and out of sleep.

"you're gonna stay home with me, huh, miks?"

"mhm," mikasa nodded again, her right cheek pressing into eren's warm palm as it caressed her to bed. "gonna stay with you, 'ren."

"good girl."

#eremika #eren x mikasa #aot #attack on titan #eren aot #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #attack on titan fanfiction #aot eremika

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thefantasticreader · 1 year ago

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being the olympic coven's younger sister and human

Who's your favorite twilight character? Let me know and any requests you all have, thanks for the support

-Carlisle found you at the hospital, you had been in a car crash that had killed your parents rendering you homeless and without parents. He quickly grew fond of you and since you were so young he grew quite attached to you

-He brought Esme with him to meet you a week later, she immediately fell in love with you, seeing his wife and mate so happy they both decided you would be the perfect fit for the family

-Alice was so happy to see the vision of you coming to live with them, she couldn't contain her excitement about having a new sibling in the house. (especially since you were so young)

-Alice went with them to get you from the hospital, she talked with you the entire way to the house

-Emmet was the first to greet you, the gentle giant couldn't get over how small you were, even though you were 6 you only reached his knee's

-Jasper tried to stay away from you but you still followed him wherever you went and at some point he gave up and began to play with you

-the first time you call Esme mommy was when she made you lunch and you said "Thank you mommy." as if it was a normal thing for you. She smiled the rest of the day, and if her heart could beat she knew she would have struggled to breathe and probably cry

.Edward was the most secluded from you, not because he hated you or anything, he just didn't want to hurt you. but the first bully you had in elementary felt the wrath of him. from then on he'd walk you to school and make sure you were well taken care of

-Rosalie loves to dress you up, she also forces you to go shopping with her and the girls even if you don't want to

-Carlisle knows when you dont feel good, he's also the first one you go to if you don't feel good or don't want to do something. He's a doctor he just knows these things well, so it wasn't a surprise when you began to call him Daddy

-Jasper and Alice had never been so happy to have a little kid running around the house, it was like you were always meant to be with them. Alice always watches your future to make sure nothing bad will happen while Jasper kinda teams up with her and makes sure you are constantly happy but not by using his gift unless he absolutely needs to

-the family is super protective over you, all three of your brothers spent two hours questioning your first date as he sat there a nervous sweating wreck (Your sisters and mother and father giggled and laughed the entire time while you sat in the corner embarrased)

-Carlisle eventually turns you after your 16th birthday so your around the same age as Edward when he was turned

#twilight saga #jasper hale #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #rosalie cullen #alice cullen #edward cullen #emmet cullen

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lost-kingsmen · 1 year ago

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Twilight Confessions of a Ghost (to a Ghost)

“....it was a traffic accident.” Danny paused mid-bite of his sandwich, but still chose to finish it and chew. The armored figure at his side didn’t chide him for the muffled hum of a question he responded with, and kept their gaze focused out over the glowing lights of Amity Park.

“I was riding my bike angry, on wet roads, and with no helmet, to boot, and the lorry driver had a headlight out. I don’t think he saw me at all, until we were both sliding.” A car passed by on the lonely street below, and Gawain paused to watch it cross their block. “I’m fairly sure the only thing that stopped us both going off the bridge was the crash barriers.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Danny interrupted, finally putting his sandwich down on the edge of the roof. He knew Gawain didn’t know anything about ghost culture. He’d never been to the Realms, and couldn’t know how taboo it was to ask a fellow ghost about their death - or how much trust it implied to tell another your own. Gawain looked over at him, and shrugged with the soft clank of metal plates rubbing together.

“We’ve both been dancing around the point all night, haven’t we?” He said. His tone sounded casual on the surface, but the atmosphere had turned somewhat sullen. Danny pushed his sandwich a little further away. “The way I reacted to your friend Johnny made a right scene, and I figured you were due an explanation.”

“You don’t owe anyone anything.” Danny frowned. “Not to sound like my sister, but that was clearly a trauma response. You don’t have to explain-“

“It made things more difficult for you, though.” Gawain retorted, turning to face him with an expression that was somehow clearly of concern, despite only being two ovals of light in a dark void. Danny always kind of wondered how that worked. “Those white suited berks nearly shot you out of the sky because you were too busy calming me down to see them coming!”

“That’s not the first time the GIW’s gotten the drop on me.” It was Danny’s turn to shrug. Normally, he would never admit that those nutcase agents were good at anything (they didn’t deserve the praise), but he didn’t like the implication that he should’ve left Gawain to calm himself down when he had - very clearly - been reliving something unspeakable. “It happens, sometimes. Everything worked out fine!”

“Working out ‘fine’ doesn’t mean it should have happened.” Gawain straightened up, now, and Danny frowned more. It was cosmically unfunny that the suit made his coworker taller than him, whether sitting or standing. “If that happened on a mission, a distraction like that might have-…” The haunted armor stopped himself mid-thought, and his eyes narrowed into thin slits (a gesture Danny was coming to understand meant ‘closed eyes’ or thought) before he made a sound like a sigh and his eyes became ovals once more.

“How’s your back doing?” Gawain asked instead, making an effort to lower his voice. He had started to raise it before he’d forced himself to calm down, and while Danny hadn’t flinched, he didn’t want to make any more of a scene in the hero’s hometown. Danny stared at him with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, letting his green eyes track the depths of Gawain’s helmet as if searching for something Then he let out a sigh of his own, and let his shoulders droop.

“Still a little sore,” He admitted. “But it’s healing fast. I should be able to pass it off as a sunburn, if I need to.” Gawain seemed satisfied (if not a little relieved) with this answer, and the pair returned to watching the town below. Danny glanced over at his sandwich, sitting cold and half-eaten on the edge of the roof, and folded it back up into it’s paper sack.

He just wasn’t feeling hungry anymore.

“….mine was a lab accident.” Danny said quietly after they’d sat on the roof for another hour in silence. “That’s why I wear a hazmat suit. I was touching things I shouldn’t have, in a place I shouldn’t have been, and….yeah.” His core twinged, for a moment, already anticipating something negative, even though his friend had already shown him such trust…but all he felt was a cool weight on his bicep as Gawain leaned over, ever so slightly, to lean into him.

“I’m sorry.” The knight said quietly.

“I’m sorry, too.” Danny all but whispered. He heard a soft rustling sound, and then several tiny sets of claws scraped against the material of his suit. Danny smiled fondly as Gawain’s three little spirits nuzzled into him - Griflet at one shoulder, Bran at his side, and Chopper in his hair. He lifted his hand, and Chopper immediately leaned out to nuzzle into his palm, to Gawain’s laughter.

“You know, she’s never taken to anyone else quite like she’s taken to you.” The knight said with a smile in his voice. Danny laughed.

“I have a way with animals, I guess.”

#mun's writing #dpxdc #((really more DPxBlog AU but))#((this all takes place in the DC crossover setting so I guess it counts))#((nothing to see here__#((just two ghost teens having a heart to heart over a turkey sandwich))

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zalrb · 2 years ago

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The tvd movie would be a romance with the twist of vampires. *a better twilight

ok the original ask:

Anonymous asked:

If tvd s1 was a movie what parts of stelenas story would you have kept for it to still feel as profound as s1.

well assuming that there are multiple movies, i would stop at 1x17 and make it a cliffhanger, where the movie ends with elena giving stefan her blood and he saves her and it's all fine and they're lovey dovey but the last shot is of him ravenously drinking from blood bags. if the movie is done right then that ending would be gut-wrenching.

to streamline everything instead of the tomb vampires kind of just being around and then kidnapping stefan to torture him etc. etc. the final act would be the tomb vampires about to devour the town, stefan/elena and friends are going to stop them, stefan gets merked in the midst of the fight and elena feeds him her blood.

i'm thinking of this as less what i would cut from stelena and more what would i cut from the other things that happen in season 1 that would reduce stelena's time and the first thing would be delena.

damon can still come back to revive katherine and the tomb vampires and kill people all over town and he and stefan can still have history over katherine but he doesn't have to be "falling" for elena. if we want to give him depth so he's not just a cardboard villain it would be through making his story with katherine stronger.

katherine and elena also don't have to look alike so we can skip the whole elena leaves/damon kidnaps her/stefan worrying georgia thing. if we want to keep that stefan had watched elena before coming to mf then i would keep it as stefan saved elena's life and bounced then he checked in to see if she was doing OK and then wanted to meet her.

elena being adopted can also go, so isobel doesn't need to be a storyline either.

there doesn't have to be elena/matt tension which is barely there anyway. in fact matt doesn't have to be there at all. neither does tyler. unless you want the sequel to include werewolves. idk.

i think it's also about streamlining things. stefan saving elena's life wouldn't be a reveal to the audience anyway, it would have to be incorporated from the very beginning where it would, like, start with elena dreaming about the car crash in quick flashes and then her just waking up in the hospital and then stefan's perspective a bit later on, maybe he's on the bridge and it's a quick flashback to the same night where he hears a car crash and vamp speeds and it can happen in bits and pieces until stefan tells elena what happened and he would tell her because damon, who would be bitter about stefan finding love while katherine is still in the tomb and bitter about what went down with katherine in 1864, would twist it to make it seem like something else and she confronts him about it as opposed to her being like why do i look like katherine etc. etc.

i would also have to streamline the breakup because it's "i can't be with you stefan" and then stefan kills vicki for elena and she's still 'i can't be with you but i can't lose how i feel about you' and then lexi shows up and lexi is like yeah you're totally into him then damon kills her then it's elena is all talk to me then stefan's like you were right to stay away from me then he saves bonnie then she's like i can be with you then he's like i can't be with you i'm leaving town then she's like i love you and that would take too much time

so i would have to combine it: stefan is like i can't do this, elena does a mini speech about how there is a part of her that wishes etc. etc. but she can't lose how she feels about him, he says no it's too dangerous.

this can go different places, this can happen at the end of the second act/beginning of the third and there's a period of separation shown through MONTAGE

tomb vampire war breaks out, elena is in trouble, stefan has to save her, gets merked, blood scene.

or it can be an attempted breakup before they have sex so they never actually have a period of separation in this movie.

i also think things like the vampirism reveal would be like elena does see things that she can't explain but she knows that he's a vampire when he saves a life in front of her so we can get to the heart of what kind of person/vampire stefan is quicker.

#stelena #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #the vampire diaries #dobsley

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sportsthoughts · 5 months ago

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get to know you tag gaaaame

tagged by @timbitshockey <3

do you make your bed? I feel attacked sitting here on my unmade bed. I do try. I am very organised in other aspects of my life. I normally half heartedly fling the covers across the bed to cover it and call it a day. I am a never in the bedroom except to sleep person so I don't really see it until it's time for bed again. And when husband is home he makes the bed very very beautifully and precisely and my efforts are quite pathetic in comparison

what's your job? Professional Feelings Expert. More therapists are tumblr girlies than you'd think. Currently setting up my own practice and doing some various bits and bobs and agency therapy work on the side.

if you could go back to school, would you? Always always! I have to do a lot of ongoing training for work so I think my next thing will either be training in couples work or maybe some nutrition stuff because I'm very interested in the link between mental health and diet atm.

can you parallel park? I have a driving license that says yes but I have not sat behind the wheel of the car since... 2019? 2018? I am quite a liability on the road and have been Banned from driving Mr sportsthoughts' car because I have been known to crash quite a lot. Just as well I like being chauffeured/walking better anyway.

do you think aliens are real? I think there's some bacteria out there somewhere but I don't think it would be life as we'd recognise it.

can you drive a manual car? 99% of people in the UK learn to drive manual and take a manual driving test so they can do both! So technically, yes, I can. I'm not good at it though.

guilty pleasure? Not guilty about it ever but sports! Sports and sports fandom has always been my little 'me time' hobby.

tattoos? Nope! I can't think of anything that I'd like the look of so much I'd want to see it on my skin forever. My taste changes all the time so I would never be able to commit to a design.

favorite color? greens. neutrals. pastels!

favorite type of music? I like a lot of old stuff! 80s stuff, 70s stuff, also currently binge listening to miss swift ahead of the eras tour in London.

do you like puzzles? Jigsaw puzzles? Yes. I find them very soothing. Brain teaser puzzles? No!

any phobias? Spiders. So badly. Anything with lots of eyes. The dark.

favorite childhood sport? Sailing! I sailed competitively until I was about 15 and still get dragged out with my parents a lot. It was an all encompassing family activity that took over basically every weekend of my childhood.

do you talk to yourself? Yes, all the time. I like to narrate my life! Sometimes in conversation with people/myself/man in the sky etc. Often just me talking to me

tea or coffee? Both! One coffee in the morning and probably about 4-5 cups of tea throughout the day. Always English breakfast tea with milk, no sugar

first thing you wanted to be be when growing up? I have never had lofty career aspirations! I have always been quite interested to see where I would end up - and I had quite a roundabout journey getting to my current career! I think I went through the usual phases of wanting to be a popstar or a princess or a mermaid but I never really lusted after work or aspired to grow up and have a job. I still don't lol. I have a very good work life balance and even though I love my job and see it very much as a forever career it is probably the least important part of my life.

what movies do you adore? I have a running joke that I hate watching films I haven't seen before. I am a serial repeater and like to watch the same things over and over. A selection: Lord of the rings - especially the second one Twilight and New Moon Jackass - all of them - Rocky you reminded me of this and whenever people ask about my sense of humour I say "Jackass" and mean it. Live action Cinderella Oklahoma - the stage recording The first three Pirates of the Caribbean White Christmas - perhaps my favourite film ever? Shrek 1 & 2 - another contender for favourite film ever. Any 90s Disney. A Knight's Tale Ferris Bueller's Day Off Hairspray!!! Can't believe I nearly left out Justin Bieber Never Say Never. The first movie I binged watched. That and 1D this is us were on a constant loop when I was a teenager. My poor parents. Tagging @robindrake13 @prettyhockey @icedbatik @coffee-at-annies @cornerihaunt @reavenedges-lies and anyone else who fancies it - feel free to say I tagged you because truthfully I'm nosy and want to know you all

#tag games

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twilight-is-dead · 1 year ago

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Considering Ao3 is currently under attack, I’ve got to deliver my fics here. I’ll post this on Ao3 when this whole mess is over . Hope you enjoy :) forgive me for bad formatting I’m not used to posting on here

One more year

By MDSpencer

Tags:

Rating: G

Category: F/M, Gen

Ships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Loid Forger | Twilight & Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess & Anya Forger

Characters: Anya Forger, Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess

Other tags: Angst, hurt no comfort

Summary: Operation Strix is over, yet he promises he’ll come home one day

Yor slowly, carefully pours the wine into their glasses, careful not to spill a drop onto the carpet. Her husband watches patiently, until he is handed his glass. He takes a sip, as Yor sits down on the couch.

“So,” she said, careful to keep her voice in a low whisper, so that their sleeping daughter wouldn’t hear, “You leave tomorrow.”

Loid nods, taking another sip. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. They had both known it had been coming for a long time, ever since their true identities had been revealed to each other. But only now did it feel real.

“How?” She asks, “Car crash?”

“Most likely,” he says.

Yor gently touched her glass to his, making a soft clink that barely filled the silence.

“I don’t want to go,” he said, staring out the window. “But it comes with the job.”

Yor sighed. Two years now, she’d known he was a spy. It had come as a shock, but after a bit things started to click into place.

And two years, he’d known she was an assassin.

Anya didn’t know anything. They’d both agreed to tell her later.

But there would never be a later.

“You’ve got to act like I’m dead, okay? I might as well be,” he said. “I’d like to say I’ll keep in touch, but we both know that’s not happening.”

“Don’t say that,” Yor said, kissing his hand. “You never know.”

“I don’t,” he responded. Yor scooched closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He let out a long, drawn out sigh. “I’m going to miss you both.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” she said. She was starting to get a little drunk.

“Promise me one thing,” Loid said, pulling something from his pocket. It was a letter. “Give this to Anya on her eighteenth birthday, if I don’t come back. I’ll try to come back by then.”

Yor snatched the letter.

“Don’t open it yet,” he said, pushing the letter down. “Save it.”

Yor nodded, setting the letter down.

“What flowers do you want at your funeral?” Yor asked, giggling.

“Roses will do,” he said, “I don’t mind. Whatever you think is best, my love.”

He kisses her. Softly, at first. He puts down his glass as she puts down hers, and he runs his fingers through her hair. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him towards her. Her lips taste like the wine, but they’re somehow sweeter. He knows he could never say everything he felt towards her, but a kiss was the second best option.

Yor pulled away, playfully tussling his hair.

“I love you, Loid,” she whispers into his ear. He feels his face go red. “I don’t want this to end.”

“Don’t think about that now,” he says. “Let this be our world for now. There’s no evil, nothing holding us down, only us.”

And they kiss, again and again, because they both know it’ll never be enough. He wants to remember her touch forever, and she wants to remember the way he kissed her.

They both want to take this love and hold it close to their hearts, where no one could hurt it.

But they always knew it wouldn’t last.

They talk for a long time, in quiet, hushed tones, until the clock on the wall reads two AM.

Yor is fast asleep. She drools, Loid notes, all over his shoulder. He doesn’t mind.

He kisses her on the forehead, hoping that it wouldn’t be their last.

“Have to go to work,” he whispered to her. He places a pillow under her head, and takes one last look at his house.

And he’s gone.

—

She knew he wasn’t dead.

She knew her mother was lying.

She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry out. She wanted to punch someone.

She wanted her papa.

And he’d promised Yor he was coming back.

And Yor didn’t know when.

Anya Forger wasn’t foolish, she knew about her father’s job. She knew how dangerous it was, how many times he’d almost died. She would never understand the full extent of what her Papa went through to keep her and all other children safe.

He’d wanted to make a world where children didn’t have to cry.

Yet she was crying.

Crying because this stupid world was so unfair, crying because she couldn't have what she wanted, crying because the person who’d given her so much love had simply…disappeared.

And she couldn’t do anything about it.

The funeral was not, in any way shape or form, pleasant.

She hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. She wouldn’t mourn someone who was dead. But Yor had begged her to go. So she’d put on her best black clothes and dolled herself up.

She’d been forced to sit through over an hour of coworkers talking about him. Or at least, talking about Loid Forger. They didn’t know the real him. Her real Papa, who found it hard to cry. Her real Papa, who found it hard to say “I love you”.

Loid Forger was gone, but that didn’t mean her real Papa was.

—

Yor set the cake on the table, lighting the 1 and 4 candles. Anya stared at it, disinterested.

It was her first birthday without her father.

Yor had kept the letter locked in a drawer, so that she wouldn’t be tempted to read it. It was Anya’s letter, after all.

Yor started to sing Happy birthday. When she was finished, Anya blew out the candles.

“Happy birthday!” Yor said, clapping.

Anya gave a small smile, before starting to cut the cake.

She and Yor had baked it themselves. It had proven to be a difficult task, but they’d managed.

Yor had thought that, at first, Anya was getting a slice for herself. But, instead, she set the slice of cake at another seat.

Loid’s seat.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “Anya, you don’t have to-“

“I want to,” she said. “It’s for Papa.”

Yor sighed, setting down the lighter. She grabbed herself a slice.

“Do you miss him a lot?” Yor asked.

Anya didn’t look up when she said “yeah, a lot.”

She wondered where he was. What he was doing. If he was safe.

She wished they could just talk. Just talk like the old days. She wished she could hold him in her arms, kiss him forever.

He promised he’d come back.

Soon.

Let it be soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

She nervously held the letter in her lap, glancing at the door like she was expecting it to open.

She didn’t want to open the letter.

Opening it would mean accepting it.

Anya had set out a slice of cake for Loid, like she did every year. Their cakes had slowly gotten better, to the point of being edible.

She wondered if Loid would be proud of her.

Yor placed the letter on the desk, and glanced at the door again.

It’s been five years.

He promised he’d be back.

“Mama, what’s that?”

“Nothing,” Yor said, putting the letter back on her lap.

Anya snatched the letter up, turning it over. “It’s got no address.”

“Anya, give it back.”

Anya pulled the letter close to her body, shaking her head.

She tore through the paper, pulling out the letter inside.

Her eyes scanned over the paper, drinking in the words.

Her eyes started to well up.

“Papa,” she mumbled, before balling the paper up and throwing it on the floor. She ran to her room.

“Anya, wait!” Yor shouted. Signing, she picked up the letter. She smooths out the wrinkles.

Dear Anya,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I wish I could be with you tonight. But the truth is I’m dead. Not in the way you think. I didn’t die in a car crash. If I haven’t come home, I’ve most likely died in my work.

The truth is I’m a spy for the West. I know it might be hard to believe, but it’s the truth. I needed a child for the mission. You were just supposed to be an asset. But I loved you. I loved you and Yor more than anything.

Yor knows this already, she has her own secrets, but those are her to divulge. As of writing this, I have two days left before I ‘die’ and I want you to know, more than anything, that I love you. I love you so much. I want to say it over and over, but I can’t.

I miss you already, Anya.

I don’t want to lose you two. But I guess that’s just how it goes.

With love,

Loid Forger

She doesn’t understand at first.

And then it hits her.

He wasn’t coming home.

“Loid,” she whispered. “God, I love you.”

And she cried. Cried and cried like a baby, because she misses him.

More than anything.

—

The house he’s come to live in is far from a home, but he makes do.

He’s baked a cake, making the house smell like vanilla. He sets the cake out on the table. He didn’t have anything to frost it with, but an unfrosted cake would have to do.

He pushed the candle into it, lighting it with a match.

“Happy Birthday, Anya,” he whispered. “I promise I’ll come home soon. Just give me one more year.”

He blows the candle out.

#spy x family fic #spy x family #fanfiction #desperate times call for desperate measures #angsty shit

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tirednotflirting · 1 year ago

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hi hi @clumsyclifford tagged me in a thing and i'm waiting for people to respond to my emails so i can Do My Job so for now we will do this <3

last song: spotify opened to the lumineers record from 2022 because i was adding WHERE WE ARE by them to my 2023 playlist on the bus this morning. it's this song that's about a car crash the band were in a few years ago + covid isolation in a way and when they played it when i saw them on friday i CRIED! like 10k+ people all in a park together singing 'i don't know where we are, but it'll be okay' like y'all i was a MESS

last film: brb texting roommate to confirm. okay she's not responding by i'm like 95% certain it was twilight after we both settled on wanting to watch something with october vibes that also wasn't Scary

currently reading: like i want to be able to say it's a Book but i stg open on my kindle literally right at this moment is a HUGE file downloaded from AO3 of All the Young Dudes (specifically the Sirius POV version). it finally feels like fall around here and last week was Rough and all of this combines to mean i am in fact back on my marauders bs

currently watching: roomie and I are watching The West Wing (rewatch for me, first time for her). we're on season 3 and we're about to watch one of my all time favorite eps (The Black Vera Wang iykyk) and i am having the time of my life

current obsession: yo radical honesty i haven't had the Time to be obsessed w anything as of late. does this new cinnamon dolce starbucks coffee creamer i got count? because i give myself a sugar high like nearly daily bc of it

@reveriesofawriter pls do this if you haven’t yet <333

#i am also about to Start reading a queer holiday rom com called mistletoe and mishigas that i’m rlly stoked about #i also want to read the new cassie clare that came out bc it’s an Adult novel so i’m curious

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justamessedupdisneyprincess · 2 years ago

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Dunno why I’m back so soon, guess my anxiety has been acting up or something. I’m surprised to see I didn’t get as much harassment posts thank god. Saw one person say bullshit that seems aimed towards me but aside from that one psycho all is good I guess.

I had a panic attack last week and ending up confessing to my older sister about everything that happened. I even told her about my fetish, which had me so scared to do I almost vomited. I was scared she was going to think I’m a freak and disown me as a sister as some people in my past did. She took it better than I thought and said it was a normal and a healthy thing. It is a part of being human. I was so grateful to learn my sister still loves me for being born this way. I am still too scared to tell my parents though as they are old fashioned and would definitely not get it. To help make me feel better she invited me over to her place to try and help me recover as my anxiety has been worse as of late. I had lots of fun! Sadly my parents fucking car got fucked up because some girl at McDonald’s messed up the hot chocolate cup and it spilled all over the controls so I had to take some meds after that scary almost car crash experience. The car seems to have somehow fixed itself the next day though? Still kinda nervous about it though.

I got quests of yore the board game! We found a game shop and she decided to play a game with me, I sort of went in blind as I know nothing about DND. We got it and played and it was fun, I got a companion which was a bear. I was struggling to come up with a name and she said Gary. We proceed to laugh a long time. We are on a quest to make lots of money to pay rent that will allow us to keep a bear. LOL

I’ve been up and down lately really, my social anxiety is way worse and I’m currently questing my sexuality and identity. I am thinking I may be agender and only into boys I’m not sure. I get bullied by lots of girls so even though I am attracted to all kinds of body types and I’m not fused by gender and have crushes on fictional girls I’m absolutely terrified of real life girls now. I was thinking I may be pansexual as well but yeah...women are SCARY dude. It’s very confusing... I wish girls like Abigail from Stardew valley were real...*sigh* in my country we get lots of what we call sheep. So if you’re not into make up and Twilight the girls in my country are immediately like “fuck you!”. Guys and non binaries aren’t like that tho. Not sure why.

And yeah, Barley and Abigail, I have a type LOL

We are trying to look for a new therapist but they’re all booked out. I have been getting lots of trauma related panic attacks but my family is helping me through it. I came here again because of anxiety of course like I said but uh....thanks to everyone who supports me. And please don’t listen to any bullshit rumours you might hear about me. People just don’t know how to fucking chill. You guys have anything better to do than to bitch and moan? Just write and draw things you love, don’t complain about people or make up nasty stories to try and gain more haters to join you. I know you’re watching me. You say I should grow up but who really is the immature one? Yes I had a bad panic attack that time. Yes I should have kept it anonymous. But I’m not evil. I just wish to be myself without seeing nasty posts. I said sorry but did you guys say sorry to me? No you didn’t. You kept going and did a lot of damage. So who is really the immature one? The one who felt bad and tried to explain why I was hurt and how we can make things better or the one who wanted to keep assuming the worst in me? Just enjoy the things you love instead of thriving in things you hate and trying to guilt trip others who like the things you hate. Stop making rumours and harassing others. Just stop. And not just me, anyone in general, I know there’s others who suffered from your wrath. Much like a dear friend of mine in December 2021 who practically saved me life. You know who I’m talking about, you hated on him for being like me. So just calm down, do you and I will do me. If you choose to hate someone over ONE mistake or one tiny trait like personal preferences than that’s just sad. Do what makes you happy, don’t go out of your way to make yourself angry by LOOKING UP the things you dislike. You do you, I will do me. Just learn to chill.

Again thanks to the people here who didn’t harass me. I really do appreciate it. I will just post and disappear again as tumblr does tend to be a DANGEROUS website. Place is practically crawling with cyber bullies. You guys should be careful too, please stay safe and if people try to attack you block them and maybe get off of tumblr. I hear shit about Twitter but I will not lie, there’s actually less cyber bullies there apparently. Deviantart is a totally safe place too. I did have some BS happen there before but the people behind the website don’t allow bullying and band people. So yeah. Thanks and stay safe everyone.

#onward #barley lightfoot #vent #sexuality #agender #gender #sexualities #quests of yore #bullying recovery #anti bullying #tw vent #coming out #self shipping #trauma ment tw #trauma

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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year ago

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10, 12, and 19 for the book asks!

10. do you have a guilty fav?

twilight...I know it's bad and cringe but it's captivated me because it's bad and cringe. it's like watching a car crash you can't look away. every year I try to make sure the first book I read is a twilight book. i'm enchanted by these ridiculous characters. emmett and alice cullen are my favorite <33--but edward's melodramatic bemoaning is wildly entertaining as well

12. did you enjoy any compulsory high school readings?

I did! We didn't read it in my class, but Dracula is a common high school reading and I love Dracula! yes that is influenced by Dracula Daily, but its still true. I also had a lot of fun with Beowulf. Others I liked were Canterbury Tales, Brave New World, Beloved, The Stranger, Crime and Punishment, 1984, Night--these weren't like over the top incredible I couldn't get enough of them, but they were thought provoking and interesting to read through.

19. most disliked popular books?

Aside from saying I dislike the stereotypical booktok books (like colleen hoover) that are all broken down into tropes and marketability with canva covers and nothing human about them? I don't know if I have a good answer for this, I tend to not read I books I don't like. The best I can do is like...there's some popular books that aren't bad but just aren't what I'd typically go for? Like One Last Stop isn't a bad book and I had a pleasant time reading it, I just don't think it's the kind of book I'd have picked out for myself, for one example. And I'm sure Heartstopper is wonderful, it just also doesn't really grab my attention or have what I look for so I've felt no draw to read or watch it.

Does Alice in Wonderland count? That's a very well known book that I just couldn't get into when I read it. It just. ugh. I know it's meant to be all jumbled and nonsensical because that's what Wonderland is like, it's just not for me. Oh! Does the Little Prince count as a popular book? Because I can't stand it--I wish I could, but in 4th grade my teacher had us working on it for seven months (we counted) and ever since I can't stand the sight of it. I know it's supposed to be really good and touching but I have a visceral repulsion at the site of it from almost a decade ago because of those seven months.

#ask game #quil's queries #pseudomagiccaster #i'll probably post this and then immediately go oh how could I forget so and so book everyone loves but I didn't!#but for now those are what I've got #i don't really. actively dislike a lot of books it's more just like. alright that was a book #i enjoyed it because I enjoy reading but I'm not the primary audience

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denimbex1986 · 10 months ago

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'Ever find you just can’t remember the name of a film? I really enjoyed The End We Start From but whenever I wanted to tell someone about it, I couldn’t remember what it was called. Begin at the End? Starting at the End? Ending the Story? Finishing the Starting? So it was with Strange People, I mean All Strange Together, I mean The Strangers We Are, oh look, you know what I mean.

I have to confess that the prospect of watching this one struck me as the cinematic equivalent of eating my greens – Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal being gloomy for two hours, yay – but I was completely unprepared for how weird, off-kilter, lyrical and moving this ended up being. To examine it fully means spoilers, so I’ll dance around a few things in this brief review, but honestly – do yourself a favour and just go and see it.

Scott’s Adam is an isolated writer living in a terrifyingly uninhabited huge tower block, who reluctantly hooks up with Mescal’s Harry before a personal crisis takes him back to his home town, where he seemingly interacts with his parents (Jamie Bell and Claire Foy) who haven’t seen him since he was twelve years old, for the very good reason that that was how old he was when they both died in a car crash.

Mescal and Scott are seemingly an odd pairing. Scott’s a very “busy” actor, and it’s greatly to his credit that I’ve never seen a performance of his collapse under the weight of tics and mannerisms. But cut Paul Mescal and he bleeds pure naturalism. Although also Irish, he sounds Manchester here, and it’s never distracting, and despite their differing approaches, this also never feels like a clash of acting styles. Foy and Bell are superb too, and the only other credited actors are Adam’s 12-year-old self and a waitress.

But don’t let that fool you into thinking that this feels like a play. Although it is mainly people talking in rooms, writer-director Andrew Haigh makes it all feel effortlessly cinematic. And given the premise, you’ll rapidly grasp that few if any of the conversations are in any way possible, and yet all of them feel completely convincing, detailed and relatable.

Things get further fractured, dreamlike and bizarre from there, but Haigh wants us to feel, and not to question. The final twist never feels like a Twilight Zone ending – further cementing a kinship between this and Mescal’s triumph in Aftersun. To me there seemed to be clues throughout that Adam had died in a fire basically as soon as the movie started, but there’s no Jacob’s Ladder-style pull-back-and-reveal and so I wasn’t left feeling unfulfilled because I wasn’t being offered a nice neat ending, rather I felt vaguely ashamed that I’d been thinking along such ploddingly prosaic lines.

I gather this was based on Japanese book by one Taichi Yamada whose oeuvre I am not familiar with. But if the very cursory synopsis on Wikipedia is any guide at all, it seems as if the novel would be the shit version of this idea, whereas the movie version is quite transcendent.'

#All of Us Strangers #Strangers #Taichi Yamada #Aftersun #Paul Mescal #Andrew Scott #Jamie Bell #Claire Foy

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

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Yūgen | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Yugen (n.) a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe that triggers a deep, emotional response.

Requested by anon! In which Sunwoo, the ace of the volleyball team, is curious about what you’re drawing all the time. Until one day, he stumbles upon a drawing of himself made from yours truly.

Genre: fluff, volleyball player! Sunwoo and art student reader, shy love, softness, and inspired by haikyuu because I have been obssessed with the anime lately TT__TT A/N: It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve posted here! Slowly but surely, I’m going through my inbox and replying to your requests. Thank you for your patience, stay safe loves, ily all xx

-----

Sunwoo wasn't artistically inclined.

But that never stopped him from admiring those that were. He was always so curious as to how just a flick of fingers managed to create a shadow, or how just one glance at a subject made it through onto paper without so much as an effort to remember the details. It was like it was automatically recorded into one's brain, hands already registered to mimic the curves and the folds and the shadows that turned into nothing short of a miraculous piece. So when he caught sight of someone drawing, it always piqued his interest. He stumbled upon you one late afternoon after his volleyball practice, with sweat dotting his forehead and his training bag slung casually over his shoulder. He was about to direct his way to the parking lot upon exiting the gymnasium, only to spot a lone figure huddled upon the bleachers and curled into a ball that caused Sunwoo to frown. Slowly sidling up to the stranger in question and peeking over the railing to catch a glimpse of your face, his eyes are instantly driven to the sketchpad in your hands.

You didn't notice him though, so absorbed in your own world with earphones blocking out reality that a tsunami could've gone unnoticed. So Sunwoo took advantage to climb over onto the opposite bleacher and, after ensuring that your back wouldn't turn to greet him, leaned over the separation to catch sight of a lone figure cartwheeling freely over the page. Woah. You were talented alright. There was nothing else to describe the fluidity of movement you caught with your pencil. It made Sunwoo's breath catch in his throat. He had the sudden urge to know exactly what kind of face hid behind the visual mastery manifesting before his very eyes. After all, there must be other things for them to see rather than the boring literal reality that most people settled for. What kind of imageries were they creating in their heads? What beautiful stories were they crafting? Worlds they got lost in? You moved then, causing Sunwoo to jolt back and scurry away with his heart beating out of his chest, deciding that it was enough spying for the day. After that day, he made sure to seek you out every time after practice although he noticed you never strayed too long in the same place, always moving about like a shadow lingering in the corner, invisible yet omniscient. Sometimes you would find a quiet spot in a patch of sunlight by the tennis courts. Sometimes you'd be found on the bleachers, alert eyes observing every pass, every move, every twist of a body like camera taking everything in. Sunwoo never approached you. Not that he didn't want to, but he found it awkward to just come up to you and present himself as the guy who'd been stalking your drawings. So he admired you from afar instead, relished in the passion of your dark coffee coloured eyes and in the attentive focus dipping your eyebrows in a soft frown, lips paeted slightly in concentration. "Do you know her?" He'd asked one of his friends from the volleyball team once, during their lunch break as he saw you line up at the cafeteria. Changmin took a peek at your face before he shook his head, "she might be in one of my electives." "Which one?" "I think it's art." Sunwoo forced his face to remain in a mask of calmness as he grabbed a steak sandwich, no fries, "do you know her name?" "Nah. I don't think she's ever spoken in class," Changmin's eyebrows quirk up then, "why'd you ask?" "No reason." Changmin's pointed look defined anything but that. Although he did have the decency to drop the subject as soon as the rest of the volleyball team joined the table. Sunwoo got his answer a few days later when he practically toppled over you and your drawing crayons. It was his mistake. He'd been leaning too far out from the top of the basketball bleachers, struggling to get even the smidgest glimpse of what amazing piece of art hiding under your jacket sleeve, only for his foot to slip. Down he went with a curse, crashing straight into your body and quickly scrabbling to wrap his arms around your head, a pathetic attempt to cushion your fall as you fell into a heap in front of the bleachers. "You--you okay?" He huffed out, breathless and heart beating like a time bomb. Pulling his arms away slowly, gently, he finally met your gaze straight on and --oh my, your eyes were not coffee coloured at all. But more of a honey-brown, wide open and framed by soft lashes. Currently dilated in panic. "I'm fine! What--What about you? Oh gosh, I'm so sorry--" "No it was my fault," he made a grab for your sketchbook and scattered pens only for his orbs to register the face messily etched onto the paper. His breath caught. For a minute, he could do nothing but stare at the replica of his face made in charcoal. Those were his eyes, his slightly crooked nose. The scowl he wore during his soccer matches. That was him. The resemblance was akin to that of perfection. That was before your hands snatched away the sketchbook before you quickly slammed it closed, cheeks blazing red, "that's-- I swear I"m not a creep, I-- I just do that for practice--" "It's amazing." Your head-- which had been bowed this entire time for fear that anger would be his response -- shot up in surprise, "what?" "It's amazing," Sunwoo repeated. He wouldn't mind repeating it forever, he realized, if that meant he got to see that aforable blush of yours. He reached out with his hand, "can I look at it again?" So you allowed him after some slight hesitation, and if he noticed, he didn't comment. Fingers brushing against yours slightly, he handled the sketchbook with utmost care as he flipped through the pages with child-like awe. He'd seen your drawings, sure, but mere glimpses here and there, a sneak peek, always accompanied with the fear of being found. But now, he could take his time and actually relish in the soft tracings of your crayon, admire the gentle shadings that made up the tip of his nose. You had managed to capture that frown -- the one he used whenever he concentrated -- to perfection and for a minute he swore he'd fallen in love with himself. "You're really good," he murmured, though that definitely banalized the array of praises popping through his head, "you should keep doing them. I mean it." "So, you're not--" you paused, "mad?" "Well I think you'd have more reason to be mad if you knew I was stalking you from before." "What?" Oh Sunwoo, you idiot. Your eyes had tripled their size and you were looking at him like he'd just grown a second head. He lifted his hands as defence, "that sounded so much better in my head. I swear I'm not that creepy, or a stalker, I just--well you're always drawing and I got curious but I can't really come over and tell you to show me so I had to hide and peek and--" You burst out laughing in his face and despite the fact that he was the cause, he couldn't help joining in with a small chuckle, a grin spreading across his features at how alive you looked at this very moment. "You can ask me next time," your grin settled into a soft smile, "I don't bite." "Your words, not mine," he said, tone lighter and teasing. He helped you gather your belongings and as the pair of you started towards the school gates, he asked for your name. "Y/N," you answered, "and you?" "Sunwoo," he noticed the sky was darkening into purple, a sign that twilight was approaching. Usually, he'd be in a hurry to catch the last bus of the evening to avoid the pain of traffic after six. But it was like his body was slowing down on its own to join your pace, as if he was automatically tuning in to the rhythm of your steps. He found he didn't mind. "So why athletes? Any special reason why you like drawing them?" He asked as you reached the gates. "I just like watching the way they move. It's ...graceful," a hand went to rub the back of your neck, "and they come in handy for figure practice." "I mean, we're not that graceful when you're on the pitch ready to get blown away," he chuckled, "but thanks. At least we know we don't play like animals." "Oh god no. The volleyball team's pretty good. The rugby team on the other hand..." you sigh before you shake your head, "that team is nearly impossible to draw." His shoulders shook as he laughed, "well I don't think they aim for graceful. They look like a pack of wild dogs. Even I don't understand how they play." You had reached the said bus stop by then before you spotted your mother's car along the sidewalk, "oh, my mom's here," you turn to him, "where do you live? Maybe we can drop you--" Meeting your mom? On the first day of meeting you? Sunwoo's hands flew up, shaking them wildly in response, "oh no no, that's not necessary. I'll see you tomorrow!" Thank god for the bus that pulled up at the right time so that he didn't have to linger longer than he needed to. But he didn't miss the small wave of your hand as you watched him go, the smile on your face warming his heart even when it was one of the coldest winter days of the year. From that day onwards, Sunwoo made it a must to make his presence known whenever you were deep in your sketches, always observing, sometimes silently keeping you company and sometimes getting so wrapped up in conversation that your pens would lay forgotten by your bag as you bantered back and forth about subjects that would've made people throw you looks of concern. It became routine to have Sunwoo's head pop up from behind the bleachers or to see him walk up the path to your special hiding spot, right where your gaze would meet the tennis court. You sketched him more and more, folding your drawings into your bag so that he wouldn't see although the urge to catch his face on paper was a growing addiction you couldn't ignore. Even your friends had noticed his lingering presence, proceeding to prod you with questions reflecting their curiosity. "He's from the vòlleyball team isn't he?" Yeji asked one time during lunch, upon noticing the way the said young man's stare lingered over the back of your head before turning away just as quickly, "do you know him?" "We've spoken once or twice." "How do you know him?" Your other friend, Saeron, nudged you with a wriggle of her brows. You brushed her teasing away, "we bumped into each other and then he saw my drawings." "Oh right, you do sketch athletes," Yeji leaned forward, mouth full of bread, "did you sketch him?" "I did, actually." "Oh awkward," Saeron giggled, "he's handsome though, can't deny that. You gotta introduce us sometime." You mumbled out an agreement even though you sat with them just for the sake of having people around. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate them. You did. But they seemed to speak a language you couldn't quite grasp. You would rather sit in your own silence, enjoy your own company if that made sense. Maybe that was why it was so surprising, that you allowed Sunwoo to linger as long as he wanted to. There was something authentic about the way he reacted to your words, an unguarded expression that made you comfortable enough to speak up without fear of judgment. Spending time with Sunwoo was listening to water trickle down the river. Smooth and free. Peaceful. But Sunwoo seldom knew of your high regards, was not aware of the tiny sketch of his figure in mid-spike that was hidden in the pocket of your school skirt so that you could take a peek whenever you felt out of place or nervous. It calmed you down to admire his composure, even if his expression was a mere mimic that could not replace reality. "Do you have any material in particular that you like to use?" Sunwoo asked one cloudy afternoon, breaking the silence while huddling a little closer to peek at your newest sketch of Lee Juyeon; a basketball star player known for his quick reflexes and adept playing style. Not only was his skill on par with that of a Nationals team, but his looks had garnered him quite a fanbase from the get-go. Sunwoo would've liked to say that he wasn't jealous of the way your thumb gently applied shade to Juyeon's lower lip. But the spike in the middle of his chest proved him otherwise. "I like charcoal the most, it's the easiest to work with," pausing to admire your work, your eyes glanced over at him, "do you draw?" He scoffed, "like a five year old." "Wanna try?" "No way. I'll ruin it. I'm okay with admiring it from afar." You hummed an unknown tune as you pulled back your sketchbook, "how is practice?" "Alright. Could be better. We won a practice match last week so we're kind of taking it easy." "That's good though isn't it?" Your gaze met his. His eyes were various gradients of warm maroon and you wished-- at this very moment -- to paint his features into memory. That was when you realized how close you were. You shuffled slightly back and didn't notice the frown Sunwoo threw you in response, "it is. And I'm happy we get to rest. The team deserves it." "You're pursuing it in College?" Your eyes tried not to linger too much over his lips, "volleyball, I mean." "Depends," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, "if we make it to the Nationals." "You will." "Someone's confident," he chuckled. "Well I'm no pro but even I can tell you're talented, Sunwoo," you peeked at him from behind your fringe, glad that you could blame the cold for your red cheeks when just the intensity and closeness of his entity made you want to squirm, "so if there's anyone who can do it, it's you." It was impossible to keep eye contact after such a confession. You lowered your gaze, glad for your sketchbook that acted as a distraction. It was at that very moment that the paper tucked so neatly in your pocket slipped out, causing Sunwoo to quickly make a grab for it. You made a noise of protest before trying to snatch it back, but the boy only chuckled before unfolding the creased page so that there he was, depicted in all his glory. "Is that--" his voice was hoarse and you took this as your chance to steal it from his grasp, reddened cheeks burning and fingers shaking as you folded it back to its tiny square shape, "is that me?" "Y--yes." "You--you keep that with you?" "I--I do," you lifted your chin up defiantly, though you felt your limbs trembling. His eyes, they pierced your own, piecing together a coherence that caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. When he spoke next, his words were a mere murmur. "Why?" "I--I don't know," eyes darting towards the ground, you mumbled, "I just like watching you...play." A pause. Then, Sunwoo shifted a little bit closer. "You like watching me play? Or do you like," he cocked his head, "watching me?" If you were red before then you were probably the colour of a fire engine truck by now. Averting your eyes and turning your head away were instinctive responses due to the blood rushing through your face. "Stop flirting with me," came your mumble. Laughing softly in response, he scooted himself a little closer, so close that his shoulder brushed your back. He leaned over, head tilted to catch your expression. "Cute," his lips broke out in a crooked grin and you swore you felt your heart explode. Flustered, you shoved him away out of instinct but he wasn't having any of that. His hand grabbed your wrists and with a yelp, you were dragged even closer to his chest. "You like looking at me that much huh?" His tone was teasing while his eyes glimmered with playful mischief, "why is that,Y/N?" "You ask as if you don't know," you mumbled out through jumbled words and you were glad he actually understood you. But instead of laughing some more, his features softened into a smile instead as he proceeded to gaze down at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. It was in your normal behaviour to admire people. Not the other way around. And at this very moment, you felt way out of your comfort zone. "I don't know." Your orbs flew up to his in surprise and what you found in those coffee-coloured pupils made your breath stutter, heat coiling through your abdomen. "It...it calms me down," your whisper was barely louder than a breath but by the way Sunwoo's smile widens to reach his eyes, you could tell he heard you just fine. "I like watching you too," he replied. A strand of your hair caught in the wind and he raised his hand to curl it around the back of your ear, his touch ghosting with sparks wherever flesh bumped into flesh. You felt warm. He didn't pull away. Didn't bother hiding the slight dust of pink in his cheeks either, as he slowly allowed his palm to cradle the side of your face. Gently. As if he feared you might run away, recoil back. But you didn't. Even with your breaths going staccato, even if your heart felt like a wild animal. You calmed yourself down with the knowledge that he seemed just as nervous as you were and suddenly, out of a stroke of boldness, your hand went up to hold on to his, pressing it close to your cheek. His breath hitched. You shivered. The wind blew against your figures, a gentle reminder that the day was coming to an end. You weren't exactly sure what changed that day. There were no verbal agreements, nothing that suggested your relationship had changed. Yet, the subtle touches of his hand against your back, your shoulders, moving your hair from one shoulder to another, complemented by his gentle doe-eyed stare that made your toes curl, these changes were small, but significant. And you couldn't find it in your heart to say that you disliked it. What are we? The words lingered at the tip of your tongue, as bitter as the aftertaste of coffee as you stole small glances in his direction. You were sitting comfortably under a tree that overlooked the tennis court where Sunwoo had decided to join you. He'd fallen asleep halfway through your beginning sketch and was now leaning against the tree trunk, face relaxed and body leaned towards yours, close enough that you could admire his face. Countless hours you had spent tracing Sunwoo's features on paper. Countless times you had imagined tracing his lips with your thumb, wondered whether they were as soft as they looked. Maybe it was just curiosity or maybe you had let him walk into your heart so easily that you hadn't realized it yourself. But if there was one thing you could swear your heart upon it would be that you could no longer imagine every day without Sunwoo's presence at your side. As if on instinct, your fingers took a life of their own as they reached up to push a few strands away from his face. They gently carved a path down his cheek, landing at the corner of his jaw. Dangerously close to his open mouth. There was no denying it. Sunwoo was beautiful. Handsome. Had those features on par to that of a model's. You were so focused on edging your way to touch his lower lip that you didn't realize you had been staring, until you glanced up to see his brown orbs fixated on yours. You froze. Shit. "Like what you see?" He murmured. Then, before you could scramble back and probably run with your tail between your legs, his own hand grasped your own and he pushed himself off the trunk before his head angled towards yours, finding your lips. Soft. Sunwoo's lips were soft. You panicked. Not used to the closeness. The fire that sparked between your lids. But his other hand went to clasp your jaw, holding you close as he kissed your next protest away and unconsciously brushing his thumb against your cheek. Shivering in his touch, there was no running away from the way his mouth molded against yours so snugly, and you didn’t want to. You found yourself addicted to the sweet pressure of his upper lip meeting your lower ones and soon enough -- without realizing -- you melted into his touch.

Sunwoo made a noise that sounded like a soft grunt, his other hand lacing around your waist to pull you closer so that you tumbled halfway into his lap. With embarrassment suddenly flooding through you, you let out a squeak that he answered with a chuckle of his own before distracting you once more with a series of kisses that left you gasping.

Your hands, initially balled into fists in your lap, went to rest against his chest and you didn’t realize that you were gripping onto his school shirt until you parted for air. Only were you aware of your compromising position, of the hard ridges of the young man’s thighs, of the firmness of his chest against your palms, of the way he seemed to be so much bigger than you even though he was a lean athlete, meant to be light and as speedy as the wind.

Breaths coming out ragged, you tried to slow the beating of your heart. Though it seemed to be quite the challenge, given how lovingly, how intense, Sunwoo seemed to be in making love to your neck, nibbling on your pulse point and causing a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

A whistle blew in the distance.

The soccer team. They’d be crawling up the hill any minute now.

“Sunwoo,” you breathed out, eyes hazy with mixed feelings of desire and embarrassment. You feebly tried pushing against his chest, to no avail. He merely groaned, head tilting upwards to catch your mouth into another kiss.

“Sunwoo,” you groaned against his lips. But he held on for dear life, one hand clasping the back of your neck, tangled into your locks. The other around your waist, pressing you as close as he could possibly get you to be.

“Just one more,” he mumbled in-between kisses, hooded eyes fluttering closed and head slanting to kiss you a little deeper, a little harder.

Your body was on fire. You weren’t used to this intimacy, nor all of the affection he was raining down upon you.

But it felt good. It felt amazing. Eye-opening.

He finally relented after what seemed like an eternity and you quickly made a move to scramble out of his lap. Though he wasn’t having any of that, grip made of iron as he held on. You looked up to snap at him to let go before everyone saw but was faced with his pout instead, which was enough to bring down your defences.

“Please,” his pout deepened and your heart practically vaulted through your chest. Cute. Cute. Cute. Stop. Burying his face into your neck, he whispered, “I just wanna hold you.”

So he did. And thank god the team had decided to take a different route so that you would avoid their imploring, questioning gazes. Though Sunwoo admitted that he’d already known they would go up from the other side of the gymnasium, considering they did that every other week to train their stamina in the process.

That earned him a light smack on the side of his head, making him whine, “What did I do to deserve this Y/N?”

“You knew!” You wanted to throw him a glare, but it was impossible when you were busy fighting the grin spreading across your face.

He grinned back at you, that crooked smile that always resulted in a burst of butterflies roaring through your abdomen. Just like now.

“So, since you have a drawing of me that you keep staring at every day--” his words died into laughter when you tried smacking his arm, proceeding to cage your wrist with his hand before kissing your knuckles. You squirmed as he continued, “does that mean I can get a picture of you?”

You let out a noise of protest, “that depends,” you mumbled, unconsciously finding refuge in his neck.

Chuckling, Sunwoo grasped your chin lightly to pull you back so that his brown orbs gazed right into yours with a gentleness that had you weak at the knees, “on what?”

“On what I get in return.”

“What if I say I’ll take you on a date?” he said wickedly.

You couldn’t help your smile.

“I guess that could work.”

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qslovebot · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #emily prentiss #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer x y/n #cm #aaron hotchner #mutual pining #romance #spencer reid fandom

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