this girl got lowk blackout drunk and confessed her feelings over text to a white man. who then called her bro and friend in the same sentence. then referred to her as "ur my dog" the next day.
im giving up on love
peace and happiness for my incoming youngho summer
in other news...my huzz who lives several hundred miles away is back
summary : kismet. a hypothetical force or power that determines the course of the future events. in that case, the first time you felt grateful for a terrible morning and spilled coffee
word count :
pairings : spencer reid x fem!reader (meet cute)
notes : gracing you with the classic coffee shop meet cute we've all dreamed about. spence and reader are super anxious and overly adorable, mentions of her being introverted and quite overstimulated
it all started when your alarm rang.
soon, too soon, you thought when the abrupt sound pulled you out of the sweet land of dreaming. you blindly reached for the torture device nagging you from the bedside table and your eyes flew open, curse words flying out of your dry throat.
fourth alarm. this was your fourth alarm.
apparently, whatever dream you were in the middle of was a little too good to bother facing the day ahead - just thinking about it made your eyelids grow heavy.
you rushed. from the bedroom to the shower, skipping the sophisticated skincare and ceremonial breakfast. no time to appreciate the little things requiring time and undivided attention. you couldn't afford being late today.
fancy gua sha and a yogurt bowl wouldn't solve anything, your entire morning was already doomed.
the birds outside chirped too loudly for your taste, the sun shined too bright and your downstairs neighbour just had to listen to rock music wth the windows open while you struggled to get ready in a hurry.
by the time you reached the subway station, still struggling with the zipper of your jacket, and adjusting your purse to prevent it from slipping from your shoulder once more, you had to physically restrain yourself from curling up into a ball right there on the platform and throwing a childlike tantrum.
overstimulation sucked, and so did the thought of having to deal with hours of human interactions at work, and piles of clothes scattered around your room when you'll come back tonight.
the clattering of wheels on tracks drowned out the sound of overthinking in your head, occasional sharp whistles cutting through the noice of the engine. commuters were numerous this morning, each individual existing in their own bubble with no awareness beyond the phone - or book, though a rare occasion - their eyes were glued to.
to your greatest relief and slight deception, no one noticed.
you were just a fraction of their day, a background appearance in one's life. paths crossing in ignorance without paying attention, no one noticed the quiet girl standing at the end of the wagon, cracking her knuckles anxiously as the brakes screeched.
becoming aware of your presence would mean seeing you. only then, you felt invisible.
as woman in a hurry jostled you while walking up the stairs, or when a group of teenagers cut you in line when you found the closest coffee shop, it was clear the cloud of negativity hovering above your head was destined to you only.
what an honour.
you would've told the truth to anyone who was interested in hearing it.
told your boss you were collapsing under a mountain of tasks lately, impossible to achieve without setting yourself up for burn out. you would've apologized to your friends for the plans you seem to always cancel out on, and to your family for the calls you missed so many times they stopped reaching out.
lately, life seemed to be playing some sort of unfunny prank on you. allowing people to evolve, offering opportunities and success to all while you could do nothing but watch from afar.
and just when you thought your time would come, expected it to get slightly better as if problems could sort themselves out alone, it would get worse like it did today.
at least you had coffee, you thought to yourself when the barista called out your name and held out a cup of what might've just been your only hope at saving the day.
then, it all unfolded in a matter of seconds.
you walked up to the counter and grabbed the drink as she was already moving on to someone else's order wthout sparing a glance at you. not your drink, your brain registered when your nostrils were met with the disgustingly hot smell of what seemed to be... black coffee ?
your fingers tightened around the unlawfully scorching cup, jaw tensing. when you turned on your heel to get her attention again, pure rage emanating from you at this point, the motion was too quick.
you felt the impact before your brain caught up.
coffee cups colliding, smashing against one another.
a guy. a guy holding a similar cup in his hand.
his hands around the cup, then around your arm to prevent you from falling and oh, scalding hot liquid all over your previously white blouse.
"oh, fuck me -" you yelped in defeat, gasping in shock when the drink hit your skin, and only regretting the sudden words when the sharp pain of the burn hit you.
the numbness of the shock soon faded and your senses finally registered the other unfortunate person, running off at the mouth about i'm sorry's and are you okay's and coffee order. you looked up to meet his gaze.
oh. maybe you didn't regret anything after all.
standing in front of you in a mess of long limbs and coffee stains, was the most puppy eyed creature you'd ever encountered. a ridiculously tall brunette, whose eyes so round made you wonder if he wasn't the one currently looking up despite the craning of your head you had to force to make eye contact.
at the sight of you, all ready to throw spikes at him and curse his existence, then suddenly not at all, you saw his mouth open and close. the previously incessant words died down.
"i'm sorry," was all he could manage to say when the tension grew, electrically charged air so heavy that the sound of coffee machines and chatter was barely noticeable in the background.
you quickly shook your head.
"no, i am !" whatever butterfly effect had led to the collision probably began with this morning's missed alarms. so, it was all your fault.
"i got the wrong order, she gave me-" pointing at the cup before realizing it was empty, your hands gestured to your now brownish outftit. you did your best not to insult the atrocity of a drink it once had been, who drinks coffee black and hot ?
good thing he cut you off. "my order," he corrected as if he'd been waiting all this time to explain, pursuing when you don't answer.
"that's what i wanted to tell you, it's highly probable they got our drinks mixed up. when you add variables like busy hours and people in a rush, it explains why i got this instead"
this, as he called it, balancing lightly from one of his rapidly moving hands, was something that did in fact, look like the iced latte you'd paid - and yearned for - all morning.
what was left of it, at least, seeing as the remnants sticking to your chest and hands were a painful reminder of the previous events gone wrong.
a sigh escaped your lips, to which he seemed to be quite concentrated on.
"right, well... it's also probable i woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. add that to your list of variables"
that made his eyes lock onto yours once more, and you tried to focus on something else by drying your hands with a napkin. not on the sweet mocha shade and the feeling of warmth coursing through you, no. that was probably just a burn caused by the drink spilling.
"not a morning person ?" he asked genuinely with a tilt of the head, the synthetic lights of the cafe forming an angelic halo above his brown curls.
"not before i've had my coffee, no."
you could swear you saw him snap out of it at the c-word, like a pavlovian response forcing his eyes away from your adorably annoyed expression. around you, life had kept its frantic movement, people coming in and out of the place in an agitated buzz.
"me too," he says before correcting himself, his brows meeting halfway and letting you know he remembered something.
"actually, this is- was, my third cup. so i guess you're the one who has every right to complain."
right, so you're the cursed one.
he apologizes again when you let out a sigh, taking a tentative step closer to you. sweet, his voice so shy you barely hear it.
"seriously, i's fine" you assure him with a gesture of the hand. what else is there to do, when all hopes of temporary satisfaction are gone and there's no time to change anything ?
you're late, you're so late, it wouldn't surprise you if you lost your job today, though with the current luck you had, better not jinx yourself with such assumptions.
"i'd rather bathe in black coffee than actually drink it, it's disgusting."
a chuckle echoes, coffee boy's dangerously pretty face relaxing under the neon lights - finally - and allowing you to take him in. "at least my order isn't the lenght of a murakami novel" he counters in a matter-of-fact tone.
he's quite funny, you'll let him have that.
an intellectual, probably, judging by the dark cardigan he wears that matches the colour of his hair. the dimples on his cheeks make him appear younger, probably about your age, though there is no ring in sight on his slender fingers.
not that you're looking, no. just a watch curiously placed over his sleeve, that catches the artificial lighting when he speaks up again.
"iced vanilla latte with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon, extra shot of espresso." quite the memory, too. your coffee order never sounded so appetizing coming out of one's mouth.
"impressive" you try your best to keep a straight face, an undifferent look. you really should get going, but what is it about this stranger that has you magnetically stuck in place ?
it's as if nothing mattered anymore, not the blinding lights, the threat of a reprimand awaiting you at the office, nor the crowded space that you felt trapped in minutes ago.
no, you can breathe the smell of coffee and cinnamon arising from his skin now, mixed with something musky that has your feet stuck in place, worried your legs might buckle if you tried moving.
"ay, pretty boy !"
a voice cuts through, interrupting the eye contact you just realized none of you broke until now. his hazel eyes direct to the doors, where you see a smug man grinning proudly, arms crossed as he waits.
a friend, you hope, clearing your throat awkwardly. "just a second, morgan," so-called pretty boy answers, and you could swear his cheeks change colors right in front of you.
when his gaze finds yours again, his hands clench before he explains. "eidetic memory. i'm pretty good at recalling details"
details, you'll recall those too.
from this memory at least, the exact shade of his lips and the mimics of his hands, to the way he makes the justification sounds like this is a moment he'll want to remember, and preciously hold onto.
you barely feel his soft hands connecting with yours before he turns around, closing your palm around something soft as you watch him awkwardly jog back to the brown guy near the exit.
when you manage to tear your gaze away from the fading tall figure in the distance, already mourning the only figment of contentment of your day, you open your hand carefully.
a napkin, one that had survived the coffee accident, and showed no stains apart from those made of ink. you read the note, light scribbles in the corner.
i still owe you a coffee,
spencer.
a smile creeps up your face, disappointment fading almost instantly. spencer... you liked pretty boy better, but it fits him just as well.
how he managed to write a note followed by his number without you noticing ? you didn't know. how this single interaction resulted in an atrocious craving for caffeine and even bigger one for a boy you barely knew ? you didn't know either.
magic, probably.
though you'd prefer calling it kismet.
tag list, feel free to comment if you wanna be added/taken off !! @deerfawnn @xervoxs @kaz-03 @cynbx @sleepysleepnomore @emerkinsella89 @sweetheartspence @g4rvez-r3id @peanutalergy @keirareidss @eternlmoonshine @xbluereid @spencilweidblog @corollaim @mostofmeghan @siriuslyval03 @midn1ght-ra1n @rose-of-the-grave @copper-rose-strings @irisinlovee @thecrimsonfog @glossiercheek @littleredwolfnerd @babywinter @1-800-peakyblinders @reidslovegia @sreidahgirl @jjellecubed @sreidahgirl @miniswritinblog
not to sound annoying but reblog if you enjoyed, it's the only right way to promote a fic on this app !! i'd do anything for spencer reid and a good iced latte
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“abortion ends lives” so does pregnancy, school shootings, lack of gun restrictions, wars, genocides, and ice. but of course you don’t care about those because you just want control over women’s bodies!
Percy’s large, tan hand held your hips down with ease, pressing you into the mattress of his bed. You both knew it was risky, hooking up in the Poseidon cabin before it even hit noon.
Usually, you played it safe and waited until well past curfew to leave your cabin and sneak to Percy’s bed. If you got caught, you’d certainly be in loads of trouble with Chiron. Today, though, the son of Poseidon seriously could not wait. He’d seen you at the lake in your tiny bikini just after breakfast and then you’d subjected him to watching you completely dominate some Ares kids in the arena. THAT was the part that really got him going.
So now, here you were, legs spread wide with Percy’s head between your thighs. He licked all over your dripping cunt, two fingers sliding in with ease. Pumping his fingers, Percy focused on your swollen clit and flicked it with his tongue. You let out a loud moan, barely having the sense to bite onto your knuckles to muffle the sounds. You thighs threatened to close around Percy’s head but his hand pressed you down harder, applying more pressure with his mouth.
“Mm, my sweet girl. Taste so good, I never wanna stop,” Percy mumbled, moaning against your heat.
You whimpered, the coil in your stomach tightening. “Please, please Perce, m’so close.”
Percy sped up his ministrations, applying more pressure with his tongue and sliding a third finger into you, causing you to explode. Your vision whitened, crying out and clutching at the bedsheets.
As you came down, you noticed Percy hadn’t stopped moving his tongue against your sensitive nerves. No, instead, he seemed to be licking more vigorously. He lapped up every last drop of your arousal until tears ran down your cheeks, you torn between begging him to stop and soaking in the euphoric waves floating through your body.
“Percy…can’t take anymore,” you muttered, half-heartedly pushing his head away as the former of your choices won over.
Your boyfriend just grinned up at you, face glistening with you all over him. “Sorry sweetheart, just can't get enough of you.”
warnings: alcohol consumption, parties, steamy make-out, sexual implications
The wooden floors vibrated under your feet, bright red lights hanging over the gryffindor common room and music nearly loud enough to rupture an eardrum. In other words, a classic Weasley Twin hosted party.
Perhaps you were already two cups of firewhiskey deep, and the night was still quite young. However, this party was what you’d been looking forward to after getting blown off by some Ravenclaw prick who was supposed to take you out to Hogsmeade last weekend.
You scanned the room, peering between groups of people for one red-haired mischief maker in particular. Finally, you caught sight of him on a chair in the corner of the room, a plastic cup in hand. You slowly made your way toward him, stumbling over yourself and the crowd in the final steps. As you tripped forward, you felt strong hands grasp your waist, righting your position.
“Woah, there, darling. You okay?” Fred asked, face inches from yours, large palms still braced on your waist. The firewhiskey on his breath was an indicator that he’d drunk about as much as you had, a comforting thought that at least you weren’t the only one to overdo it a bit.
“M’great, Freddie! Need to sit though,” You giggled drunkenly, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning further into his space. Fred walked you two backward, glancing over his shoulder to see the chair he previously sat in before flopping back into it, you on his lap.
“That better?” Fred nuzzled his head into your hair, one strong arm wrapped around your waist. Nodding, you adjusted yourself on his lap, wiggling until his hands shot to your waist, holding you still. “Darling, you’re going to create a problem if you keep moving like that, then you may have to solve it.”
Swallowing thickly, you felt his half-mast bulge press into your ass, sending a shock of heat through your body. “What if that’s what I want?”
“What about that Ravenclaw lad you went out with?”
You laughed, shifting to face Fred. “Oh, we never went out! He stood me up, waited in The Three Broomstix for an hour before I quit waiting.”
Fred grew still under you, a rarely seen anger reflected on his face. “You deserve much better than that. Can I prank him for you?”
“Absolutely. And had he and I gone out, perhaps I wouldn’t be here with you right now. I think I like this more.”
“I think I like it more as well. I’d treat you much better than that prick anyway.”
You hummed, raising your eyes to Fred’s and finding him already staring at you. You shifted your hips again, watching the way his eyes flutter and reveling in his sharp intake of breath.
“Prove it.”
Within seconds, Fred’s mouth was on yours, hot and taking. You turned, straddling his lap in the too-small armchair and dragging your fingers through his hair. His tongue brushed the seam of your lips, beginning for access, which you granted excitedly. As his tongue swiped against yours, the pressure in your core grew near unbearable, made worse by the groan he let out into your mouth. You shifted in his lap, the thick bulge in his pants brushing just where you needed it. You gasped and bucked your hips, then nearly fell over as Fred stood straight up, grasping your hand.
He pulled you through the bustling common room and up the stairs, finally yanking you into his dorm. Instantly, you were pressed against the door with his mouth on yours. His tongue swept against yours, causing a moan to spill from your lips.
Fred’s hands slid under your ass, effortlessly lifting you and carrying you across the room. You let out a laugh as he dropped you on his bed, which was cut short by his lips finding yours again. “Don’t think that prick could ever get you like I can. Knew I’d treat you better, darling,” Fred spoke, and proceeded to prove that he could in fact treat you much better.
