#we didn't get back to normal at work for weeks

[tsukii0002]

Imagine that Mc, who makes fun of the brothers for being so dramatic when they don't see each other for a while, thinks that they are not like that when it comes to being away from them for a while. So for a reason like exam time, delivering a major project at work or whatever reason, Mc has to spend some time in the human world with hardly any contact with their demons. (If you like the temporality with respect to the original story this would happen after Mc can travel freely from one world to another, after season 4 of OM, when they gets used to being with their demons every day, even if it's only for 5 minutes).

One day

Mc: It is incredible that there can be so much silence and so much tranquility, ha, ha in the end this is going to be good for me.

Two days

Mc: Well, at this pace of work I'll finish ahead of schedule… not bad, but it's a little strange that nobody “bothers” you.

One week

Mc: *eating* I've made too much food… Beel is not here… well, I don't have to cook again for five days.

Two weeks

Mc: *sitting in the living room* How quiet…. what will they be doing?, I hope they didn't get into too much trouble….

One month

Mc: …

Mc: Damn, it's not normal to feel so sad if it's only been a month…*sighing* well I'm just as dramatic… I miss them…

Returning to the Devildom

Mc: *hugging the first demon they see*

Satan: Mc?

Mc: I missed you…

Satan: *blushing as he hugs them* Us too.

Mammon, Asmo and Levi appear running down the corridor and embrace Mc.

Mammon: You're back!!!!

Asmo: Oh, honey, I've missed you so, so much!!!

Levi: Don't go away again for so long ever, ever!!

Mc: *about to cry without understanding why* It's your fault!!! I can't live peacefully anymore if I don't have you around!!!!

Mammon: *moved* Mc!!!!

Mc: I hate you.

Asmo: We love you too, hon!!!

.

.

I managed to fix my phone without losing my data!! 🎉 , so for a week I have been feeling a little bit like this, missing the guys, they are really part of my daily routine together with studying, work or doing chores, even if it's just 5 minutes to do the daily tasks. Anyway, all this to say that I'm back🩷.

.

.

[pinkyqily]

We'll help you through it [Ingrid engen x mapi lèon x r]

Contains : mention of depression

A/n : this a repost of my fics, my request are open

Least to say that you we're struggling life sucking every single one of your motion to keep living it felt like you lost all hope in your self you didn't know what it was but your mental health decline took a toll on you.

Every day felt like a struggle to be alive and keep on breathing. but thanks to your amazing girlfriends who were able to notice what was wrong with you.

It all started with when they had to leave a lot for away machetes you get that it was apart of their job but sometimes you felt lonely and jealous about what the two could be doing without it.

You doing what you do best overthink the whole situation but nevertheless you were able to push back.

You stopped answering there calls and texts whenever they sent in one. Just wachting the phone ring away without trying to pick it up.

Feeling worthless and unimportant as life would have been better if you just stopped living you thought to yourself.

But you never get close to doing it. It's been weeks since you last saw them as you've been ignored them.

You had a new routine now wake up work sleep and eat. And well repeat totally ignoring your other aspect of life.

Mapi and Ingrid had obviously noticed the pattern in your behavior and decided to vist you as soon has they could.

"Ingrid you think all this is enough". Mapi asked Ingrid showing her comfort bag that they brought for you filled with your favorite snacks to everything that you like.

three different brands of your favorite chocolate, huge ass blankets you wanted to get but didn't they had it your favorite movies had it makeup,dresses, accessories they had it all but mapi over here was still worrying that it wasn't enough.

"Mapi it enough or maybe to much". Ingrid questioned.

"Let's just go". she said to her girlfriend

They finally got your place with the spare key and weren't really expecting to see you in the condition that you were in.

With just one look at you it was quite obvious that you weren't getting enough sleep nor eating enough.

They both immediately dropped the things they had rushing to your side. It hurt them to see you this way like you were waiting on death.

Ingrid was the first to speak up. "Baby I'm so sorry we haven't been there for you".

"Nothing is your fault I'm particularly to blame".

"No don't say that about yourself".she told you

Mapi on the other hand didn't know what to say so she just pulled you three into a hug. you all stayed like that for a while before Ingrid started cleaning.

the whole place and convinced you to go take a bath so you could feel more relaxed. mapi was changing your bedsheets and placing the things that they got you.

By the time that you were out your places was looking better than it was before.

Ingrid made you a bowl of spicy soup putting it down and helping you with your hair and clothes on. You ate what Ingrid had prepare with mapi feeding you and not missing a single drop.

After that they both convinced you to leave the house for some fresh air. And that what you did getting in the car mapi first went back to there place to pick up bagheera to join you guys.

Having bagheera join you guys on the beach was perfect the cat being there made you perceived and calm. It wouldn't have been your normal couples walk if mapi didn't start talking you and Ingrida ears off.

Something that you missed even though she could go on for hours she was recently yapping about. how patri and pina were quite obvious about each other but to afraid to confess and how she was going to play cupid.

Let's to say you felt happy and a little better all you need was come comfort and love from you girls which they understood.

[octuscle]

Model Job

Chester didn't know much about the modeling job he was hired for. He had been told to come in a blue suit. A neat hairstyle was required. The studio was a sober room in a functional office building in an industrial area. Nothing glamorous, but that wasn't what he was after. He was after money. Dirty money. He had a bunch of creditors breathing down his neck, and if he didn't want to be evicted from his apartment, which was way too expensive for him, he had to get this job.

The guys waiting in the casting room largely fit the current stereotype: bearded, tattooed, manly. Their hair was either super short or their long manes were tied back in topknots. But a few of the men looked just like Chester: well-groomed hair, clean-shaven, no visible tattoos. But in contrast to Chester, these men were usually rather petite, almost feminine. Chester was well-groomed, but clearly a real man. He prayed that this was the type of man they were looking for. Because then his competition would be very manageable. If they were looking for a guy with a mane and a full beard, however, he had no chance.

The waiting time was endless. The men spoke little to each other. Again and again, someone was called into the casting room, and mostly a disappointed or angry man came out. Chester was just happy that he had a charging cable for his cell phone with him. And that there was Wi-Fi. This way he could pass the time and did not have to rely on the goodwill of others to recharge his battery. After what felt like an eternity, someone called out, “Chester Cavendish?” It was unnecessary to call his name. Chester was the last to wait. But it was good to hear his name. His name was part of his capital. Not that he had anything to do with the Cavendish family, the Dukes of Devonshire. If he had their money, he wouldn't have to model. But the name sounded good. Respectable. Impressive. Hopefully it would help.

“Mr. Cavendish, if you would please stand in the spotlight over there.” Chester did as he was told. He had only been able to catch a glimpse of the panel that had to decide his fate. Now he looked into the spotlight and couldn't even guess what was happening behind it. ”Move naturally, Mr. Cavendish. As if you were waiting for your girlfriend in front of the hairdresser.” Chester took a few steps, turned around, paused, always careful to show the spotlight his best side.

“I don't know,” someone murmured. ‘He looks too much like old money to me. Too well-groomed, too upper class.’ ‘The problem is that we don't have anyone else.’ ”If he was a bit more relaxed. A bit more peppy.”

“Okay, that's better. Brown shoes, five o'clock shadow...” ”I think so too, much better for our target group!”

Chester began to feel more comfortable. Apparently, his type was well received by the client. His type matched his name. Black sheep from a good family. Good background, but slightly rebellious appearance. “He looks a bit conformed.” ‘Yes, the hairstyle is not bad, but he could show a bit more skin.’ ”You said it, sex sells”

Chester hadn't been sure whether it would be too intrusive to wear a sleeveless shirt... But it didn't seem to be a problem. He posed a bit more provocatively. And the muttering from the other side of the spotlight was obviously approving!

“I don't know about you, but it's too 90s for me. Too metrosexual.” ‘I agree.’ ‘And he could do with a bit more muscle too.’ ”Mr. Cavendish, how many times a week do you train?”

Chester wondered what difference it made how long it took him to get his muscles in shape. He was proud of his muscles. It was damn hard work, after all.

“Four or five times a week. But call me Chester. Mr. Cavendish was my father!”

“Thank you, Chester. And it's impressive what you've achieved in the gym!”

Chester listened, but only understood fragments. “…a little bit...”, “…too well-behaved...”, “…bad boy...”. It was difficult for him to continue playing the waiting game.

“Chester, do you think your normal job and modeling go together? Or is that a problem for you?”

“No problem! I still work a bit in my dad's construction company, dudes! He'll understand if I have to go on camera.”

Whispering again... And then, “Yes, he could indeed look more like a construction worker.”

Chet was slowly beginning to lose interest. He wasn't a model, he was a handyman... But he also wanted to be an influencer. That's probably why he had to do this kind of shit.

“Sorry, Chester, I forgot. How often do you go to the gym?” “Name is Chet. Gym is like for wimps. I hav me fuckin' workout six days a week at the construction site. N' three times a week i go boxin'.”

“I think we have the perfect candidate.” “I agree!” “But somehow he's not quite up to date yet, is he?” “Yeah, a few tattoos maybe.” “What do you think of blond hair?” ”Deal!”

Chet was the epitome of the C-Class celebrity. We knew him from a few modeling jobs, we knew him as a fitness influencer, we knew him from trash reality soaps like Love Island. But just a little bit. He wasn't famous. But he made a lot of money. And for an airhead like him, that was quite a lot!

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ takes revenge after your accident

Warning: mentions of blood

JJ and I had decided to go on a date, realizing we hadn't been on one since we got back to the island. We were going to a nice restaurant, not Kook nice, but nice. I was wearing a blush floral dress with bows on the straps and JJ was in a nice sage button-up. He was wearing his normal cargo shorts and boots, realizing he didn't have anything nicer, but we didn't care. We just wanted to be together.

We took the Twinkie, not wanting to walk all the way into town since the weather was supposed to get bad later. I was sitting in the passenger seat and JJ was driving. He had ahold of my hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. "I love you," he tells me, placing a kiss on my hand. I look over at him and smile, "I love you too, J." I look back at the road and within a second, I feel the weight of the door crash into me. The Twinkie flips to its side before coming to a halt in the middle of the intersection.

I feel the blood dripping down the side of my face and my head is in agonizing pain as I glance over to a bleeding JJ. He's not moving. I try to move and scream out in pain. I can't feel my leg and see it's pinned by a piece of the door that broke off. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I could hear people trying to break the windshield. I recognized one of them and started to yell out. I was slowly losing energy, feeling my body give way to the pain I was in. I look back over to JJ, who is still unconscious before everything goes black.

It had been three weeks since the accident. I was released the first week, but I've been there every single day since visiting. The Pogues are trying to be supportive and keep a positive mindset about it, but I just can't wrap my head around it. Everything was working, the business was doing great, nobody was in trouble or being chased, we were all happy. Within one single moment, everything changed. All it took was one asshole who thought he could drive drunk to ruin it all. As I sat in the hospital chair, I couldn't stop thinking about what I could've done to change what is happening now.

"Hey, you ready to go?" John B asks, standing in the doorway of the hospital room. I don't say anything and he comes over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, "She'll wake up JJ," he says with a hint of pain in his voice, "she has to." I place my hand on his, letting him know I hear him, it's just difficult to feel that way. "What's that stupid thing you always say? You can't what?"

"You can't kill a Pogue," I reply with a chuckle that was immediately met with tears in my eyes. I know he's trying to help, but I just can't see past the fact that she's not awake yet and the doctors aren't sure when she will wake up. The trial for the person who hit us was today and I told her I wouldn't miss it, I would be there to see justice for her. "I'll be right out," I told John B. He pats me on the shoulder before walking out of the room.

"I'll come back and tell you all about what happened," I took hold of her hand, "I just need you to wake up for me. Okay, princess?" She's been in a coma since the accident, her injuries being too much for her body to handle. Her face was littered with cuts and bruises, but it didn't take away any of her beauty. They almost lost her. I woke up not soon after the accident and they were doing CPR on her, I tried to get to her, but I couldn't. They had me strapped down to the gurney, my neck in a brace. They were loading me into the ambulance when she finally came out of it. As soon as I knew she was alright, I passed out from the pain. I woke up later in a hospital bed and was released three days later. I had minimal injuries, she took the brunt of it all.

"If I could go back to that day, I would switch places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you were here right now. This world needs you in it," I tell her, hoping and praying she'll hear me, "you're too bright of a light to just be gone. I need you to fight for me, for all of us. The Pogues won't be the same without you." I look up at her, wanting nothing more than for her to open her beautiful eyes. I feel a tear drop onto my hand. I'm not even sure if I believe she can hear me, but I need her to. "I'll be back later, I love you so damn much. If you can hear anything, hear that." I stand up and place a kiss on her forehead before slowly walking out the door, taking one last look at her before I leave.

John B met me at the end of the hallway and we walked outside. The rest of the group was in an old junker we found. The Twinkie was totaled and we got a good enough deal on this van. Everybody was waiting for me, I could see the sadness in their faces. "Let's go see this asshole get what he deserves." I clap my hands at them before jumping in the van and closing the door. I've been looking forward to this day, the day Rafe is found guilty.

We quickly drove to the courthouse, seeing the place filling up fast. Everybody loves her on this island, they all want to see justice served. As we walk in and take our seats, I can't help but notice all the sad faces pointed towards us. The Kooks aren't even looking our way as they sit behind Rafe. I'm sitting in the front, and I can't help but send glares Rafe's way.

The trial took a little over five hours and I started to have a bad feeling about it. It happened too fast I thought, I could see the worry on Pope's face and that told me all I needed to know. This wasn't going the way we wanted. It wasn't long before the Judge came out and announced to everybody that Rafe was found not guilty on all charges. The entire courthouse erupted into people yelling. I couldn't focus on anything, all I saw was red. I slowly got up and looked at Rafe, wanting nothing but to kill him. He got away with it, he had to have paid people off or threatened them. He gave me a small smirk and I went to charge at him, but Kie beat me to the punch; literally. She took one swing at him before the entire room erupted into chaos.

I slowly walked to the back of the courthouse, ignoring all the fights happening around me. I turned the corner and grabbed a chair before throwing it through the window. I turned around and saw one of the officers heading my way, trying to tackle me but not before I punched him, knocking him to the floor. I started to run out the door but was quickly pulled back by a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Shoupe holding me back. I thought I was done at that moment, until someone slammed a chair into his back, causing him to crumple to the floor. I ran out of there as quickly as I could.

I couldn't think straight, all I could do was run. I left everybody at the courthouse. She could die and he's getting away with it. This town is letting him get away with it I thought. It wasn't long before I was downtown, surrounded by all the Kook businesses. I let out a small chuckle before picking up a bat that was sitting next to someone's bike. I swung it around a few times before I let all that rage out.

I took the bat a swung it as hard as I could into the window of a car, causing the lights and horn to go off. "Why stop there?" I said to myself as I moved down the sidewalk. I took a swing at the electrical board on a street light causing it to spark and set fire to the trashcans below it. I looked down the sidewalk at all the clean windows. I stood in front of one before swinging the bat, the window shattering from the force. I broke every window along the sidewalk, everyone meeting me with an alarm.

I could see the lights coming from around the corner and ran. I had to get back to her. I ran until I came to the hospital entrance. I threw the bat into the bushes next to me before walking in. "Hey JJ," one of the nurses said to me as I walked in, "I'll get you checked in." I nodded my head at her. As I came to her door, I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and make it seem like I didn't just run across town. It's not like she can see me I thought.

I walked through the door and looked over. My eyes filled with tears as I looked at her.

"Hey J."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

“What we are seeing is a functional and healthy relationship with two working partners, not the contrary,” the source said of the couple.

why do you think they're saying that if ...you know?

Because it's their current PR strategy: separated professional brands.

It's been in progress for awhile. Meghan started separating her brand from Harry in Summer 2023 after she signed with WME but it didn't get the traction she wanted so it was scrubbed and she went back to "one happy couple" for six more months (Dusseldorf IG/September 2023 through Vancouver IG kickoff/February 2024). There was another attempt to separate brands with the ARO launch, but that didn't go well either, so they pivoted back to "one happy couple" for the summer (Nigeria/May through Colombia/August).

My guess is that their fauxyal visits didn't get the kind of opportunities they wanted or were expecting (especially with renewed bullying allegations and Harry losing his top aide) but they were getting some individual opportunities so they officially split the brand.

(Except I think that Harry forced it by taking a couple of weeks to work away from Meghan in NYC, London, and South Africa which left Meghan to scramble because she didn't have anything lined up.)

A couple having separated professional brands is actually pretty normal and ordinary so it's not the big deal that Harry and Meghan think it is. What is the big deal is that as recent as February 2024, the Sussexes have been doubling down on the "we do everything together no matter what" narrative. But yet just eight months later (October 2024 when the articles started) there's been a complete professional split and they're not doing everything together anymore. Something definitely happened. Is it a precursor to something more? I don't know yet.

But that said, I do want to give credit to the tarot readers and astrologists here. Several of them saw a Sussex split in October/November 2024. Many of us (myself included) thought it was divorce but a professional split for better work opportunities is also a split and equally counts. So kudos to you. 🫡

[clubsmarties]

Eli smirked and chewed his bottom lip. "Tell you what, once we get home and after we say goodnight, we'll sneak peek one thing off our list," the list in question was the things they hadn't done in months. Sure, this time they'd have to get creative with her protruding belly but a challenge he knew they'd excel at. "I am too not gonna lie. At least it'll give us some time and her some time to see what it's like to have a sibling like best friend. I honestly can't believe we're all having girls first. I thought since Aaron had brothers that that track record would continue." His laughter rang out as he knew that would catch her attention. "First off, when you're out of the shower and you let your hair air dry but it starts getting curly," that sight always had him staring. There was something so sexy about her hair like that. "Then, it's when you introduce yourself at work. The sexiest one of all is truly when you steal, er...borrow my sweatshirts that you never give back."

He smiled as his lips were still close to her fingertips. "So you're saying you want me to walk slower like a snail? Would that be better?" Eli couldn't help but joke since if she asked he'd do anything she asked. "I'm not sure but wouldn't that be a federal crime if they touched?"

He cringed knowing how right she was. "Poor ten babies being nameless. They'd just be baby numbers at that point. Like what's that show juju was obsessed with, oh right, Umbrella Academy. Wasn't there a kid named Seven?" Just because he wasn't really watching didn't mean he hadn't paid attention when the girls took over the TV. "I don't know. We shall see after we get our first out. But I do think there's less pressure after the first since you're a little more confident. And that was on my sleep deprived self when I came up with Rosebud. Soon as we knew it was a girl that nickname just clicked."

"She's already on our side." The proud smile spread over his features as the thought of their girl became more of a reality. "I can't believe she'll come meet us in a little under 4 weeks. That's insane to me." The Phillips under one roof was insanity but in the same place that was a dream. "It will get chaotic but it'll be so much fun. We'd put them to work the night shift with Rosebud." Laurel brought up a good point. "You know what, that's a good point. We need to take her to the cabin in Chicago. I feel like you can't go anymore but maybe we can go to that indoor Christmas festival. Something to get us out of the house." He watched her get up and was ready to render aid as he got up after her. Taking her hand was the normal and interlocked it. "Hmm I don't know. I may say debatable if he's still thinking I hate him."

They moved through the crowds easily until they found his siblings. "You guys ready to go?"

Laurel's smirk couldn't be contained, his raised eyebrows inviting her to make a move. She understood what he was communicating, and she wanted nothing more than to oblige. Humming in thought, she answered. "Oh, but it is up to you my love. I'll misbehave as often as you'd like me to." Tiny best friends. Laurel was giddy, just thinking of their girls spending time together from day one. "Tiny best friends growing up together, I'm very excited." She had always felt so grateful for her friendship with Juju - the love and care they shared for each other. Their daughter would be immensely lucky to find that in a friend so early in life. "Really?" Now, he was intriguing her. "If not the badge, what else would make me a sexy rebel?"

She loved telling him just how attractive he was, it was something she had never shied away from. From the start, she loved giving him details. The many different reasons he caught her attention. A small laugh fell from her lips when he kissed her fingertips. Softly tracing his face was Laurel's happy place. An amused sigh followed, shaking her head. "Hm, I do try, but I can only waddle so fast. I just can't get to that door fast enough. I just hope they enjoy the sight of you. They can look, but they can't touch." And, even that was already pushing it for her. "I'll happily be biased my whole life."

Her laughter vibrated against her lips, nodding in agreement with him. Being unconventional was definitely very reminiscent of them, but it was also one more thing that she loved about them. "Eight or ten, oh my goodness - can you imagine that? They'd be nameless forever. Or, do you think it gets easier after our first? It is a special one, and I love that she can keep the nickname you gave her." Laurel's smile was wide upon hearing their girl's name once again, it felt more real each time. Her hand reached over and rested it right over his. "I think that's a yes babe, I'm glad baby Rosaline has confidence in us taking them on."

"All the Phillips in one place, I don't know if I'm ready," she teased, her hand now moving to caress the back of his neck. Just to give herself something to do. "Long distance with her aunts would be tough, going all the way out to Chicago. Though, who knows, maybe she'd love the snow. Early night works for me, I'm dreaming of our bed already." The fluffed up pillow and their blanket. She took the last bite of her churro before crumbling the napkin in her hand, "yup I'm all ready." It took her an extra minute to stand up, using the arm rest for support. "Let's go see them," taking his hand and locking their fingers together. "Maybe Isa finally cracked a smile."

[triglycercule]

duuude i never thought it would be this bad that i literally saw art of my trio. joking around and laughing and having fun. and not immediately smiling and being like yeah this is silly theyd do this. something is clearly wrong

[keeps-ache]

gonna keep it shmoovin man

[queen-susans-revenge]

I was commuting to work at my first real grown-up job, a journey that involved a train ride and then a short jaunt on a shuttle my employer provided to and from the station. I just listened to music as usual on the morning trip, but the shuttle driver had the radio on, and they were describing carnage at the World Trade Center.

I thought: oh, how fun, a radio drama in the style of "War of the Worlds", aiming for realism. Very cleverly done!

Halfway through the drive another woman on the shuttle began to audibly cry. I thought: oh no, it's just how when "War of the Worlds" aired people panicked, thinking it was real! Someone should tell her it's not real.

I waited for someone to tell her, but nobody did, and gradually I began to consider that perhaps it was not a radio drama.

When I got to work, nobody was working. They had set up a television and we all watched it, and that was when I too began to cry. Eventually the bosses came through and told us all to go home.

9/11 Poll but with even more options

Very broadly speaking when I made the poll initially I meant "watched" in the sense of "saw news reports on 9/11/2001 that included some video footage" and not in the sense of "watched video either live or recorded as the planes hit the towers" but people seem to be taking it very literally as watching footage of the planes hit the towers.

[izzy-b-hands]

My doctor messaging me at 12:30 in the morning to tell me she wants to do a telehealth visit abt the side effects I'm having with my new Lamotrigine dose (including worse insomnia than my usual insomnia, as u may have guessed lmao) is. something.

[smarterthantheaverageloser]

In the class straight banging it. And by it I mean. My head against the wall

[neverendingford]

.

[realpokemon]

we should criminalize ace trainers battling with their rhyperiors on the fucking I-40 when i'm trying to get to work on time. there is a goddamn BLISSEY on the road

( 198 notes )

🎆 faerie-type Follow

( 1,504 notes )

🎡 so-fucking-wurmple Follow

dear jirachi please send me 1,000,000,000p ^_^ (brink of tears)

🎡 so-fucking-wurmple Follow

GUYS GUYS THIS POST WAS A JOKE

I JUST GOT A CALL FROM MY MOM AND SAHHLJBGF[L;DLKJLFGDI SHE SENT ME A FREE SUPER POTION

THIS POST WORKS

🏖 hoennianblues Follow

Always reblog Lucky Jirachi Post

( 136,231 notes )

🌖 solgayleo Follow

i just saw another Youngster throwing a pokéball into the water and it completely missed and he didn't even bother to scoop up the broken pieces. i'm so fucking disappointed with this generation see this is why lapras are so endangered because they keep fuckin Literally Choking On Net Balls that you don't bother to clean up. this is one of the most bueatiful shores in the world and there are only 40 lapras left IN EXISTENCE and one washed up just last week please please please STOP SURFING and STOP BATTLING on the ocean

🏞 hurdurrgurdurr Follow

THIS!!!!! ^^^^ SIGNAL BEAM

💽 adultyoungster Follow

if you dont rb this post lets just say we're making eye contact

🛳 hmmmmsurf Follow

Wait what is op talking about? Lapras officially stopped being endangered back in 2016 and are actually an overeffective predator that are driving gastrodon populations almost to extinction in some parts of alola. This is actually just blatant misinformation? I guess??

🥘 malasada-mercy Follow

I gained a net 0 amount of information from this post 😭

( 30,439 notes )

🦠 sh1nyd3x Follow

need

🕰 omega-evolution Follow

"this is my beautiful baby his name is #00FF0E"

( 4,509 notes )

🌉 pokecomp-tweet-s Follow

( 414 notes )

🪁 macrobyke Follow

can we please normalize battling people without making eye contact. "oh oh oh its polite to warn people before you battle them!!!!" L + ratio + skill issue + never let em know your next move + dragonite use hyper beam

[running-in-the-dark]

went to bed early and woke up before 8am today! pretty cool. except I woke up with a bad headache and eventually had a very long nap.

I'm just so damn tired! like, no matter how much or how well or when I sleep, I'm still tired all day. so it's just pointless trying to fix my sleep schedule (when I'll just be asleep most of the day anyway).

[fingertipsmp3]

Girl help I don't understand my homework

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."