“my Wife” Ft. Nanami Kento

“Don’t worry, everything is alright”

Eyes on you - Part 2

(mdni 18+) Caleb is aware that you know about the hidden cameras all over his house. Now he’ll have to face the consequences of his actions once he gets home.

3k words. also posted on ao3!

Part 1 HERE (please read it for context)

Did you... Winked at the camera? 

Did you... know? Were you aware of the cameras all along? And you did all that, knowing he'd be watching? 

Caleb stared at the large monitor in his office like a maniac, replaying the part of the tape where you left your soaked panties on the bathroom door handle and looked directly at the hidden camera next to the painting in the hallway. He played the scene once more, pausing at the frame where you winked directly at him. Caleb's lips curled up into a sick smile. He could touch himself and cum right there and then, but you were clearly waiting for him at home to “relax”. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were as fucking insane as he was. And that made him even crazier about you. 

Flustered and in a hurry, Caleb left his office without explaining himself to anyone, determined to arrive in less than twenty minutes - no, ten if he ran over a few stop signs. It didn't matter how many tickets he got, he just had to be quick enough to find those panties still wet. And trust him, he would. 

Now he found himself in that hallway, standing in front of the closed bathroom door with those panties between his fingers. He could feel the wetness and viscosity of your fluids against the soft fabric. It was so soaked that his fingers got wet enough to bring it to his lips and lick it like a hungry dog. It wasn't enough. Caleb brought the panties to his mouth and nose, sinking into their smell, taste and wetness. And that was the scene you witnessed when you opened the bathroom door, dripping from the shower and wrapped in a towel. 

The lilac eyes of your oh, so dear friend Caleb seemed more violet in the dimness of that corridor. He looked at you like an animal, not a man. It was almost threatening, if you didn't know that this man would never be able to do anything to you - at least not something you didn't want him to. 

At first, when you left the panties on the doorknob, the plan was to get Caleb into the bathroom, where you two could work out the sexual tension that had built up over the years. But now, here, with this man explicitly pleasuring himself with your used panties, obsessed, hungry, and unashamed to show it to you, all you could think about was how far he would go for you. 

"Pathetic” you said, lifting your chin, your eyes locked on his. His pupils dilated as he heard you, his hand still holding your panties to his nose, as if he could not fucking stop smelling and feeling you in that dirty piece of cloth, even with you here, watching him and scolding him for it. "I knew you stole my panties in high school," you muttered quietly, taking a step forward. "But you're still doing it as a full-grown man? Really pathetic" His erection was obvious "And what about those cameras? Hm?" You pushed your hand against his, suffocating him with the panties he smelled like a pervert. Caleb smiled while groaning under the fabric, breathless. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" You pushed him, your hand still over his nose and your panties, making him stagger backwards and through the bedroom door that was opposite the bathroom in the hallway. With one last push, Caleb fell onto the bed, his elbows supporting him, and you took the opportunity to grab your panties back. He panted like a dog after his favorite toy, forcing you to put a knee between his legs — against his hard-on — to prevent him from moving. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he groaned, rubbing his clothed cock against your leg. “I- you're driving me crazy-" he gasped, holding your thigh "Literally. All I think about is you, all I want is you, all I..." He panted, still thrusting against your bare skin like a pervert. You pressed your knee down harder, making him moan louder and stop moving. 

"Since when did you install the cameras?" You waved your panties in front of his face like a tempting reward. "Hm?" You brought the fabric close to his nose and pulled before he could grab it. 

"Ever since you came back to Linkon and told me you were coming to see me," Caleb leaned his head against your stomach, like a devotee holding onto their god. "I just wanted to see you when I wasn't home, Pipsqueak. I just want to make sure you're safe." The Colonel's rough fingers curled into the fabric of the towel wrapped around your damp body, pulling you closer, secure in his embrace. "You're everything. Everything" He lifted his face, still pressed against your abdomen, staring at you with eyes that were now a deep purple. 

"You say it like that was your only intention." You pulled his hair back, forcing him to pull away from you "But what about the cameras in the bathroom? The ones near the shower? Are they there to protect me?" He bit his lip and tried to pull you close again, but you pulled even harder on his hair. Caleb groaned, and even with the force that your knee exerted on the middle of his legs, you felt the abundant pre-cum against your skin. 

"I told you, crazy. You drive me crazy, Pip. I want it all, to see it all, to touch it everything-" He dug his fingers even deeper into the towel. "I tried, I swear, I really did. But you're like a fucking drug. The panties weren't enough, I needed more." His voice was rough, like he was about to lose it, about to give in to his desires, but he kept fighting with everything he had. 

"More." You repeated and loosened your grip on the back of his neck, bringing the same hand up to caress his face. With the other hand, you released your panties on the floor. Then, you moved to the knot holding the towel and loosened it, letting the fabric fall to your feet. "Like this?" 

That was all it took for Caleb to sink his face into your stomach again, this time feeling skin on skin, covering it with mouth-open kisses. "Yes, yes, yes, fuck-" He sank his fingers into your flesh, bringing your mound against his lips. "Fuck, yes, like that," he said, almost desperate. 

"I'll give you what you need." You replied in a sweet tone and lifted the leg that had been caging against his cock to rest on the bed. This gave Caleb full access, and he understood the message. He started eating you out like a starving man who hadn't eaten in days. His tongue sank between your wet flesh, up and down, while his nose circled over your clit, soaking in your scent as if his life depended on it. One of his hands that had been holding your waist went down to your dripping pussy, and Caleb ran his fingers into your folds, wetting them with your juices. Suddenly, you felt his calloused, lubricated fingers enter you, curving as they fucked into you deliciously. 

"Thank you," he whispered as he kissed and licked your clit non-stop, at the same time as he fucked you with his fingers at a frantic pace. The whole situation had already turned you on, and the way Caleb fucked you with his fingers was too intoxicating for you to last long. Soon, your thighs started trembling, betraying the orgasm that was about to come. "Princess, please, please, come on my fingers, please," he begged, desperate, as he increased the speed of his thrusts and the movements of his tongue against your sweet nub. 

"Caleb!" You grabbed his hair again, trying to keep his face away from the squirt of your orgasm, but he grunted and stayed between your legs, drinking every drop. 

"You think I wouldn't want you to come all over my face?" He stuck out his tongue and licked your pussy again, looking at you obscenely. "I fucking dreamt about this for years. God, you're perfect." He kissed your belly again and nuzzled his face there. 

"You're really crazy." You grabbed his face, watching his drunken, cum-slicked smile. He seemed satisfied with it, as if your pleasure was all that mattered, and in fact, Caleb could die now, and it would be more than enough. But that wasn't enough for you. Not at all. During the time he was supposedly dead, if there was one thing you had learned, it was how much you regretted not having done more. You put yourself through hell, thinking about what might have happened if you'd just admitted that you knew about his crush on you, or that you knew about the hidden panties, or that you'd heard him masturbate countless times and call your name when he thought he was alone. You spent sleepless nights back then, thinking about what Caleb would do if he found out that you liked this, this obsession, this devotion, and worse, you felt that way about him too. You were obsessed, crazy, and attentive to him and what he did for you and to you. Now that he was back to you and had made his intentions clearer than ever, there was no point in hiding. 

"Take your clothes off." Your eyes lit up as you stared at the large stain in the middle of his pants. That wasn't just pre-cum. He came just from eating you out. Crazy bastard.  

Caleb pulled off his clothes carelessly, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't really need you to do anything. It already feels really good just to have had the chance to eat you out and make you come." You could tell he was holding back, and it made you angry. You wanted all of him, everything, completely honest and true, to you and to himself. 

"Caleb." You climbed on top of him, rubbing your wet pussy perfectly against the length of his throbbing and once again erect cock. Caleb moaned with pleasure, bringing his eyes down to meet your folds as you licked his cock clean. "You can do whatever you want to me." Your hips moved back and forth slowly. "I love that you're fucking insane about me..." You both moaned as your clit rubbed against his swollen tip. In one smooth motion, you lifted your hips slightly and held his hot length, rubbing the throbbing head over your clit, using his cock to please yourself. 

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," he cried as he began to thrust against your clit, moaning loudly along with you. 

"Caleb, I love that you're insane about me, because I'm just as insane as you are, and for you." With another roll against his tip, your lips let out a loud moan that was soon interrupted by Caleb's rough hands pulling you into a kiss. It was dirty and unceremonious. Your tongues met obscenely and without shame. 

"I-I can really do whatever I want? You sure?" He said between kisses, lowering one hand to your ass and the other to your soaking cunt. 

 "A-Ah! Yes! Please." You felt him thrust his fingers into you again, fucking you. The noise was wet, erotic, and your moans mingled with your panting breaths. 

"I want to fuck your pussy with my cock, please, please, please - I know you said I can do whatever I want, but I want to hear you tell me that I can, and that you want it as much as I do. I want to fuck you stupid and make you come again and again and again and fill your pussy with my cum to the brim," he said against your ear, spreading kisses as he continued to push his fingers inside you without stopping.  

"I want you inside me. Fuck." You whimpered at the speed of his fingers. "I want your cock, I – I want you." Your lips came together again in a hasty kiss. 

He thrust his curved fingers in harder, eliciting an obscene sound from you, before pulling them out. "I'll give you what you want. I'll give you anything, anything you want." Caleb ran his wet fingers over his own throbbing cock and held it, slapping it against the folds of your sensitive pussy. With his other hand, he lifted your hips just enough to bring his cock closer to your hole. He let out a loud sigh as he circled the tip over your entrance, feeling you, soaking into your juices. Then, in one smooth motion, he thrust in and reached your bottom. You swallowed him whole at once, both moaned in unison. This was just insane. 

"Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" He said, breathing heavily, his eyebrows scrunched up, violet eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. You smiled and relaxed your hips a bit more, lowering yourself enough to feel him balls deep into you. "Oh my god, you're so fucking good, you're taking me so deep. God, you're so tight—so perfect for me." Caleb looked so happy, finally being able to feel you, to be inside you, to fuck you. The two of you stared at each other breathlessly, still, savoring the sensation of being connected like this for the first time. "Look at you," he said, moving his hands up to your breasts and caressing them. "I need to fuck your breasts, cover them with cum, bite them and suck them..." Caleb murmured in a trance as he ran his hands over your body, imagining the possibilities. He brought his fingers up to your mouth, and you opened your lips and sucked his index and middle fingers. "I need to fuck your mouth too... I've imagined you sucking me off and me slapping my cock against your pretty cheek just to paint your face with my cum. I bet you'd look so beautiful." You moaned with his fingers inside your mouth. He withdrew the wet digits and guided them into his own mouth, sucking on them. 

You couldn't take it anymore, so you threw your torso back, leaned on his knees with your hands, and started rolling back and forth, riding him. Caleb watched as your pussy swallowed his throbbing cock up and down. "Holy shi- Yeah, just like that, fuck- like that." He brought his thumb to your sensitive nub and started stimulating it in slow, circular motions. 

"A-Ah, instead of thinking about what you are going to fuck, why don't you concentrate on this?" You teased, lifting your hips just enough to reach the sensitive head of his cock, only to slowly roll over. 

"You are- " Before Caleb could finish, you sank down again and started fucking yourself on his cock at a faster pace. Caleb threw his head back and cried out, moaning your name like a mantra. "'Holy fucking shit, where did you learn that?!" Before he could think too much about how you had acquired your sexual skills, you decided to hit him with another brutal ride. He groaned again, gripping your hips tightly. That would leave a mark 

"Better than you imagined, huh? When you touch yourself thinking of me." You said breathlessly, without stopping the movement of your hips. Caleb lifted his face to look at you, his eyes full of water and his mouth swollen from biting down to hold back his moans. 

"Are you kidding? Fuck. There's no comparison." He rubbed his thumb against your clit again, encouraging you to roll over more, seeking more friction. "Ah- Ah, yes! Good girl, use me however you want, fuck me, please." His finger followed the increasingly rapid speed of your hips, almost violently, abusing your already swollen spot from another orgasm. "Please, please use my cock however you want, fuck, sit on it, cum on my cock, please" 

"C-Caleb- Ah, ah, Shit!" You were breathless at the way he rubbed your clit, and suddenly, you stopped riding, sitting on him with your legs trembling, as you felt the orgasm come for the second time, wetting his cock with your liquid again. Your walls were contracting non-stop against his member, making him curse loudly. 

 "Fuck, you're so hot, squirting all over my cock, so fucking pretty.” He moaned, eyes filled with lust as he absorbed the vision of his cock soaked from your juices,  “You're going to drive me crazy squeezing me like this, shit-" He suddenly pulled your torso into a tight embrace, pressing your breasts against his chest as he began to thrust into you like a savage animal. "I'm sorry, I really can't hold it anymore," he bit your shoulder as he rammed into you with all his might, fucking and fucking you deep and dumb. Your sweaty skin seemed to melt and fuse together, and it was almost as if you were one. "You're so beautiful, so perfect. Your pussy was made to be fucked by me and only - shit - by me." He hugged your back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling you two as close as possible. "You were made. for. me," he punctuated the words with each thrust, and took on an erratic rhythm. 

"I was. And you for — Ah! Me." You said, burying your face in his neck, and it was like a trigger: Caleb's legs started shaking, and his cock started throbbing, shooting his load inside you, over and over again. You both groaned loudly and hugged each other even tighter, as if that were humanly possible. The two of you stayed like that, hugging, soaked, stuck together, panting, and even after a full minute you could feel Caleb's cock twitching inside you, releasing one last hot spurt. 

After a bit of quiet time to catch your breath, you began to laugh and planted a few kisses on Caleb's sweaty neck. Carefully, you lifted your face to look at him. He had his eyes closed and a smile on his face. 

"Hey, Colonel, how's it going?" You said, your voice hoarse and tired. Caleb let out a quiet "mm-hmm" of approval. "Can you let me go now? We're disgusting." You looked down, feeling the sweat that glued your breasts and belly to his chest and abdomen. Caleb wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. 

"I'll never let you go," he said with a smile. You laughed and nuzzled your face against his neck again. You stayed like that, together, your breathing calming down and your heartbeats synchronizing. Suddenly, something popped into your head. 

"Hey, how long do these cameras keep the recordings?" You whispered, and Caleb shivered. You looked at him again, and he opened his eyes, his pupils getting bigger again. 

"I don't know... A few hours, or days, maybe." He stroked your back, lost in thought. "Do you want to see?" 

You laughed and stared back at him, "Absolutely." 

Short little thing of when Malleus first met Silver

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

The Hot One

You're that one hunk that EVERYONE has a crush on. Your wit and charm is known to make fangirls faint, and half of the entire fandom's thirst posts are about you. You could eat a cookie and everyone would lose their shit. Congrats, dude.

NEW CHALLENGE

1. FIRST, create a picrew using this maker, and then 2. SECOND take this quiz on how fandom would see you if you were a fictional character.  3 (THIRD) POST YOUR PIC AND YOUR DESCRIPTION IN THE REBLOG!

Bastard (Good)

You’re a bastard. A wet cat, if you will. And we love you for it. You’re a little shit, but in the good way. You are the baddest babygirl. You killed a man, but you looked good doing it. You flirted with the hero and the enemy. All of Tumblr is madly in love with you. Congrats, I guess?

Tagging EVERYONE but especially @magicaltear, @the-beeses-kneeses, @wafflesrisa, @mykingdomforapen, @marbat, @scientistsinistral, @halberdierminister​!

no he has a point💀🚶‍♀️

Cater: so if ‘k’ is short for ‘ok’ and sometimes you call your grandpa ‘pop,’ then ‘k-pop’ equals ‘ok boomer’.

Everyone in NRC: *crying* please stop it’s 3 am

Scavenger Hunt

Riddle x GN Reader/Yuu

I was possessed and had no choice but to write this or DIE

Also I made each of those fucking riddles by HAND AND IT WAS SO MUCH EFFORT FOR NO REASON

cw: none, just fluff :)

Treasure hunts, Riddle thought, were wastes of time. The idea of choosing to embark on a wild goose chase, for whatever reason, just didn’t click for him. Its supposed thrill never sat well with him, because who voluntarily gave themselves stress? If they found time to fool about, they certainly had time to do something more productive.

Yet on the rarest of occasions, today his schedule lay barren. It wasn’t as if it was the only box empty on the calendar, but his students seemed to be more than willing to take slices off his workload. Even Ace and Deuce, the troublemakers they were, forced bright grins, crisp uniforms buttoned and collars flat. Something was definitely up. 

Trey, as reliable as he was, could only smile placidly. Knowing the housewarden, the sudden shift in everyone’s attitude would only cause needless worry; yet Yuu insisted that ‘he’ll love it!’ This little surprise took days to plan, with them dipping in and out of the dorm’s halls to plan this one perfect day, and a small card along to go with it. He wasn’t so rude to open it, but even if he wasn’t one for theatrics, there were a few guesses on what was written. Waving the white and red envelope, he adjusted his eyeglasses. “Riddle, the Prefect left you a note, if you want to read it.”

“Oh, so this was their doing.” Even if the vice housewarden needed glasses, he could plainly see the way Riddle’s face softened, as if it was obvious now. Gloved digits plucked the letter delicately, admiring the rosy sticker decor that kept it sealed. Letters should always be sealed with hot wax and a stamp, then opened with a proper letter opener outwards from the body; but he’ll forgive their minor blunder, on account that Yuu didn’t own any wax or stamps. Perhaps he would gift them some, so such an oversight wouldn’t happen again. The letter itself was penned on thick stationery, velvet under his touch and adorned with the same glossy rose stickers. 

Keep reading

ໃ𑄺. GOOEY C☆CK 𝒻𝓉．𝓋ℯ𝓃ℴ𝓂 𝒸𝒶𝓁ℯ𝒷.

✧ tws : nsfw/smut, fem!reader, multiple of rounds, tentacles, implied dubcon, creampie, spanking, nipple play, monster fūcking, petnames (pipsqueak, baby, etc.), caleb calls himself gege once, spanking, cōckwarming, doggy style and body worship.

✧ synopsis : You always knew something was off about Caleb his eyes bright in the dark, his touch too hot to be normal. After a mission goes wrong and you’re stuck alone with him, the truth comes out. He’s not just Caleb.Something inside him is possessive and starving. You try to escape, but his tentacles wrap around your waist, holding you tight as he finally shows you what he really is. “Don’t be scared,” he says. “He just wants what I want…”

The air inside the ruin was too still. Too quiet. You should’ve known something was wrong the second the scanner shorted out, static hissing into your earpiece before dying completely. You and Caleb were separated from the others, but he didn’t seem worried—just stared ahead, purple eyes glinting in the dark, too calm for comfort.

“Caleb…?” you whispered, clutching your comm. “This place gives me the creeps…”

He didn’t answer right away. Just tilted his head, lips twitching in a way that wasn’t entirely his.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re scared,” he murmured, voice lower, deeper than usual. Then he looked back at you, eyes narrowing, and for a split second, something moved under his skin. Black tendrils rippled up his neck before disappearing.

Your heart jumped. “C-Caleb—what the hell was that?!”

“...Told you not to follow me this deep,” he muttered. “Should’ve known you’d stick to me like a needy little pipsqueak.”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re hiding something. I’m not stupid.”

“No,” he chuckled darkly, stepping toward you. “But you are reckless.” Another step. “And now that you’re here, well…” His voice dropped an octave. “We don’t see a reason to let you go.”

Something lashed out—fast. Slick, inky black. A tentacle coiled around your wrist before you could scream.

“Caleb!” you gasped, stumbling back. “Let me go—what the fuck is that?!”

But Caleb was changing. His pupils stretched into slits, claws forming where fingers had been. More tentacles slid free from his back, writhing like they had a mind of their own. And still—still—he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

“Shh,” he said softly, reaching out. His clawed fingers tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s still me, pipsqueak. Still your gege. But… I’m not alone anymore. And he’s just as obsessed with you as I am.”

A low, alien growl rippled from his chest—and then the other voice came.

“So soft… so tiny… we could break you…”

Your legs buckled.

Caleb caught you effortlessly. Smiling. Gentle. Possessive.

“Don’t worry,” he purred. “We won’t hurt you, baby. Not unless you beg us to.”

The tentacles didn’t pull hard. Just enough to guide you. To show you he could. Caleb’s breath warmed your ear as one slick appendage coiled around your waist, sliding beneath your jacket, tracing your bare skin with a teasing, wet touch.

“Such a pretty little pipsqueak,” he whispered, voice trembling between his own and the growl of something deeper—darker. “You don’t even know what you do to me…”

His clawed hands cupped your face gently. Reverently. The monster inside might’ve had a mouth, but Caleb had a heart, and both were laser-focused on you.

You should’ve been afraid.

Instead… you throbbed.

“C-Caleb,” you breathed, thighs clenching. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

“Didn’t want to scare you,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “Didn’t think you could handle how badly I wanted to breed you.”

The words hit like a thunderclap. You whimpered, body trembling as another tentacle slid between your legs—pressing against your clothed heat, circling it slowly.

“So warm…” the parasite hissed. “Let us in.”

You didn’t even fight it.

Your clothes were shredded by claws and tendrils in seconds, left in tatters on the cold stone floor as Caleb laid you down gently, hungrily, like you were a gift he’d been starving for.

His mouth found your breasts first—hot and eager, tongue flicking across your nipples as his hand spanked your ass, hard enough to make you moan.

“Caleb!” you gasped, back arching. “F-fuck—!”

“That’s it,” he growled, licking a swollen bud before sucking it between his lips. “Say it again. Let me hear how needy my little pipsqueak is.”

“Caleb, please,” you whimpered. “Need you inside—need it so bad—”

You didn’t have to beg long. One thick tentacle curled around your ankle, spreading your legs wide as Caleb knelt between them. His cock—larger now, veined and flushed—throbbed, slick with dark fluid and twitching at the sight of your soaked cunt.

“You’re already dripping,” he rasped. “You want it raw, baby? Want me to stuff you full until it leaks out?”

“Y-Yes—yes, please—”

He didn’t just slide in—he invaded you. One long, slow thrust that left you breathless, stretched, filled to the brim as your eyes rolled back and your hips lifted to meet him.

“Fucking tight,” Caleb hissed, gripping your waist as his hips slammed into you, again and again. “This pussy was made for me.”

“Us,” the parasite snarled. “Breed her. Fill her. Use her.”

His thrusts grew savage—deep, precise, obsessed. Your slick echoed off the ruin’s walls, your cries sharp and sweet as your gege took you like an animal.

Spanking your ass with each slap of his hips.

Mouth on your nipples.

Tentacles everywhere—teasing, wrapping, stroking.

You came fast—shaking, screaming, clenching around his cock as he growled in your ear, praising you through clenched teeth.

“Good girl… fuck… such a perfect little pipsqueak. Let it milk me, baby, that’s it—”

He didn’t pull out. Didn’t even try.

Caleb came with a low roar, cock buried deep, thick cum flooding your womb as your legs trembled. One tentacle held you open, letting it drip out slowly, making you squirm as he leaned down to lick your lips.

“I’m not done,” he growled, eyes glowing. “I told you. We want more.”

Round two came before you could speak—Caleb flipping you onto your hands and knees, spanking you again, harder this time.

“You love doggy, don’t you?” he growled. “Letting gege fuck you like the little slut you are…”

You screamed when he pushed back in—so much deeper this way, stretching you wider, one hand fisted in your hair while the other worshipped your body, tracing your curves, massaging your sore, red ass.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered. “Used. Open. Mine.”

“All ours.”

Tentacles wrapped around your tits, squeezing, twisting your nipples while Caleb pounded into you from behind—slamming his hips against your ass until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but cum again.

He didn’t stop.

Three times. Four. He kept going until your pussy was sloppy, filled with so much cum you could feel it dripping down your thighs. Until your legs gave out and you collapsed, shaking, drooling, dumb from pleasure.

And even then… he stayed inside.

Wrapped around you. Holding you. Kissing your shoulders while his cock stayed hard, still twitching.

“You’re gonna cockwarm gege now, pipsqueak,” he whispered sweetly. “Let me feel how warm you are while I take care of you. You were so good…”

You nodded weakly, face buried in your arms, body broken but blissed out.

“Y-your turn next time…” you slurred.

He chuckled darkly, hugging you tighter as another tentacle stroked your cheek lovingly.

“Oh, baby…”

“There is no next time. We’re just getting started.”

Your legs were shaking. Muscles limp. Your cunt still full and stuffed with your gege’s thick cock, twitching deep inside you like it had no intention of leaving.

But even as you whimpered, half-conscious from the last orgasm, Caleb’s hands never stopped moving.

They worshipped. Explored. One palm sliding down your belly, spreading the warmth of your overstretched womb, the other dragging along your thigh, where his cum had trickled down and painted your skin with messy, sticky lines.

“So full…” the parasite hissed approvingly. “Keep her like this. Breed her again. Let her feel us always.”

“Mm, you hear that, pipsqueak?” Caleb murmured, mouth brushing your ear as his hips rolled slowly. “You’re gonna be so stuffed you won’t know where I end and he begins.”

You whimpered, twitching as he slid out just an inch—then slammed back in.

“N-Ngh!—Caleb!”

“Oh, you’re still sensitive, huh?” he cooed mockingly, voice thick with hunger. “That’s too bad. I wanna see you cry this time.”

His hips started moving again—slow and deep, pressing right into the swollen spot that made your vision spark. Tentacles snaked around your thighs to spread you wider, one wrapping lazily around your throat, not choking—just reminding you who owned you now.

“You’re taking it so well,” he growled. “So dumb and full of cock. Just how I like you.”

Your mouth was hanging open, drool on your chin, breasts bouncing as his cock pounded into your soaked hole again—again—again—and his tentacles twisted your nipples, tugging, pulling, flicking them until you were crying from the stimulation.

“C-can’t—Caleb, I can’t—!”

“Yes you can,” he snarled. “You’re my good little cocksleeve, remember? You said so yourself.”

“She belongs to us now.”

“Breed her again. Break her. Mark her inside.”

He spanked you hard—twice—three times, watching your ass jiggle from the force before grabbing both cheeks and spreading them to watch his cock disappear inside you, glistening with your slick and cum.

You came again. Didn’t even realize you had until your body locked up and your vision went white, cunt spasming around him so tight he moaned through his teeth.

“F-fuck—fuck, baby, gonna cum again—”

He slammed in deep—one final thrust—and flooded you all over again. You felt it hot and thick, spurting into your womb as your whole body trembled, clenching down, milking every drop.

But he didn’t pull out.

Didn’t even slow down.

“Caleb—please—too much—” you sobbed, legs kicking weakly as he kept thrusting, slow and heavy.

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing your back. “You said you wanted it all, didn’t you?”

His tentacles wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a new position—straddling his lap now, his cock still inside, his arms wrapped around you from behind while his mouth suckled on your bruised, sensitive nipples.

“Now you’re gonna ride me,” he growled. “Be a good girl. Bounce on gege’s cock like it’s the only thing keeping your brain from melting.”

Your body obeyed before your brain could even catch up—hips rolling, ass bouncing, cunt squelching with every desperate grind down onto him. You didn’t even care if it hurt anymore. You just needed to feel full.

Needed him.

Needed them.

“Good girl… just like that…”

“You were made for us.”

You were cumming again. Didn’t even say anything—just sobbed and clung to his arms, drool slipping down your chin as your pussy clamped down again.

And then he stopped moving.

Just held you there. Cockwarming you like a living plug, stroking your hair while your body twitched helplessly in his lap.

“You’re gonna fall asleep with my cock inside you tonight,” Caleb whispered against your neck. “And when you wake up…”

He bit down lightly on your skin—then licked the mark.

“…we’re gonna do it all over again.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

Ace: You did not just— *wheeze*

Epel: Seriously— *also laughing*—What possessed you to do that?

MC: *made a shout-out for Jack on a radio station* ...

Ace: What did you say again? I think it went like this. *clears throat*

Ace: "Hey, hey, hey! To that goodest boy from Shaftlands, Jack Howl — Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Valentine's to you!"

Ace and Epel: *cackles*

MC: Did I really say that?

Jack, Leona, and Ruggie: ...

Leona: To the goodest boy from—

Jack: Stop!

Ruggie: *laughs* Aww, Jack~ There's someone who appreciates you a lot.

Leona: Good thing Ruggie has a radio or else we have missed that.

Jack: *blushing from embarrassment*

PLS THE "THIS CHILD ON TIKTOK" PART

*.⋆ʚ HOW HE TELLS YOU HE LOVES YOU…KINDA!

with: kōtarō BOKUTO, tetsurō KUROO, rintarō SUNA, kei TSUKISHIMA, atsumu MIYA, kenma KOZUME

warnings: none !

isabelle says: some are cute & some are dumb ahh! and thank you sm for the love on the notes work ily all → haikyū masterlist <3

BOKUTO !

*.⋆ʚ ‘y/n… YOU MAKE MY HEART GO WEE WOO’

*.⋆ʚ he’s flustered ok! he was psyching himself up to say something, that was just the first thing to pop into his head :(

*.⋆ʚ gosh i’m so soft for bo PLS

*.⋆ʚ also kuroo probably saw the whole thing and won’t let it go for literal months ‘wEe WoO pfft’

KUROO !

*.⋆ʚ ‘n 3^07 !’

*.⋆ʚ he was helping you study math and you looked so cute concentrating so he decided he was just going to go for it

*.⋆ʚ so when he passed you the slip of paper asking for help on this ‘difficult equation’ you were like •.• sir this was NOT taught in class, you were so confused

*.⋆ʚ ‘turn it upside down and then read it idiot’

OIKAWA !

*.⋆ʚ ‘oh are you the girl uncle tōru is in love with?’

*.⋆ʚ this boy constantly rants to takeru about everything, from how ‘tobio-chan and that chibi-chan have nothing on me and iwa!’ to ‘y/n looked so cute today’

*.⋆ʚ something i love about oikawa is his undeniable passion so being the subject of that fire, sparkles in his eyes and all, makes my heart flutter idc

*.⋆ʚ his poor nephew just had enough though and exposed him so he could go back to playing with his own friends instead of listening to his eighteen year old uncle’s love life

SUNA !

*.⋆ʚ ‘this child on tiktok is trying to tell me we aren’t compatible because of our star signs, the stars are obviously blind to perfection’

*.⋆ʚ even though he mostly acts unbothered or indifferent towards things i feel like the tiniest details make him so happy

*.⋆ʚ just the little fact that the stars agree you’re perfect together would make his heart skip beats

*.⋆ʚ also side note! just imagine rin hanging out with the twins and one asks why he’s smiling at his phone and he says ‘nothing’ but he’s still smiling and it’s all because of you ugh <33

TSUKISHIMA !

*.⋆ʚ ok just LISTEN

*.⋆ʚ i know this boy is always portrayed as a massive kuudere but just picture being up really late with him on call and he’s superrr sleepy and as you’re both falling asleep he says to you:

*.⋆ʚ ‘we’re like the sun and moon, i’m just waiting for our eclipse’

*.⋆ʚ sTOP i have butterflies

ATSUMU !

*.⋆ʚ just printed out a whole stack of heart reaction memes and gave them to you :,)

*.⋆ʚ like didn’t even do anything special, just smacked forty pages of memes onto your desk one morning with the biggest smile ever

*.⋆ʚ he would of sent them by text but he wanted a live reaction to each one

*.⋆ʚ suna is !!always!! making memes of him and his brother so he begged him to make one for you, it didn’t come cheap but the last picture of the stack is indeed him surrounded by hearts

KENMA !

*.⋆ʚ ok let’s set the scene: you’re at his house and it’s almost three in the morning, both of you laying in front of the tv with your shoulders brushing when he suddenly stops playing. but he doesn’t turn to you when he whispers

*.⋆ʚ ‘you know how i told you a while ago that i used video games to escape reality sometimes?’

*.⋆ʚ ‘yeah, ken?’

*.⋆ʚ ‘i don’t think i want to escape it anymore if it means i’ll be with you’

MWAH! ଘ(ᵕ◡ᵕ) - (requests are open!)