#I had this idea earlier and needed to draw it

[l4lenthusiast]

Buttons -Spencer Reid

GirlDad!Spencer Reid x mom!reader

Warnings: Forehead kiss (I think that's it?) No use of y/n

Word count: 662

A/n This was supposed to be a short blurb but I got carried away so first real short fic!!

"No, Lottie, not in your mouth!" You took the pink crayon from your daughter and sat her on your lap. Today you and Spencer decided that crafts could be a fun idea for your freshly two year old, clearly not thinking through all the things she would try to put in her mouth.

Spencer chuckled, putting a small basket on the living room floor with an assortment of buttons, glue sticks, and colorful paper.

"C'mere Lottie." He reached out for the pant leg of her snoopy overalls courtesy of Aunt Penelope on Lottie's second birthday last month. She was spoiled severely between gifts from the team, your family, not to forget you and Spencer, who definitely went a bit over board. Charlotte gurgled something between a "no" and a giggle when Spencer pulled her over.

"Crafts are beneficial for toddlers," Spencer started, laying out the items, giving Lottie her stuffed lamb. "they foster the development of fine motor skills, hand-eye coordination, and creativity." He continued, passing you a handful of buttons.

"Activities like painting, drawing, and using handheld supplies like buttons help refine dexterity and precision." He handed Lottie two buttons, one for her and one for her lamb.

"Crafts also encourage self-expression, allowing toddlers to communicate their emotions and ideas non-verbally." He finished laying out all of the craft supplies and adjusted the white bows in Lottie's pigtails you put in this morning without much of a struggle.

"Do you know what lambs say?" He asked her with interest. Lottie smiled at him before making a "baa" sound, which Spencer greatly praised.

"Okay Lottie," Spencer spoke softly, turning her around to face him. "Why don't you go sit with Mama, and then we can start. Okay?" She nodded her head, shaking her pigtails in the process, and reached out for you.

"Hi sweet girl!" You sat her on your lap and gave her her pink sippy cup half filled with apple juice from snack time earlier.

Spencer held out his hand with a selection of colored paper. "What color do you want?" He asked her, showing off the papers.

Charlotte thought and pointed at a few looking up at you for confirmation.

"There's pink Lottie!" You told her, pointing at the pink colored paper.

"Yes!" She cheered, clapping her hands together and looking at Spencer with a pleading face.

"May me?" She asked him, Spencer had been trying to teach her proper vocabulary by using "may" instead of "can."

He smiled at her, and without putting up a fight, he handed it to her, although it did take a lot to not correct her from "me" to "I."

Lottie sat on the floor next to you, starting to color and place buttons on her page, blabbering only a few words you or Spencer could understand.

"Lottie," Spencer tapped her knee lightly. "Are you done your picture?" He asked her, looking up at you with a smile.

"Need glue." She mumbled. You could tell she was getting tired. You checked your phone to read 12:54. You and Spencer usually try to get her in bed for her nap by 12:30. He gave you a knowing look and started to negotiate with your toddler.

"Okay angel, how about we glue your buttons down, then you go have a nap so your picture will be dry by the time you wake up?" He pulls her into his arms, and she rests her head on his shoulder in exhaustion.

Lottie nods against his shoulder, already half asleep. Spencer smiles at the sight and starts to rock her while picking up some of the leftover supplies.

"Here." You grabbed the crayons out of his hand. "Why don't you go put her up for a nap? I'll clean up." You told him, looking over his shoulder to see your daughter fast asleep.

He nodded back hesitantly and stood up to bring her to bed. He turned around and pressed a kiss on the top of your head, then continued walking towards the stairs to put sleepy Lottie to bed with her lamb still in her grasp.

[concretejunglefm]

A little hurt/comfort with bestfriend!noah just because 💕

CW: sensitive topics around past relationships and sexual coercion, hint of trauma and light details, shitty ex's and circumstances, noah being your safe space. read at your own discretion and take care of yourself.

Sometimes the memory resurfaces, and being alone is what you hate most. Even more than that, you hate that you never told anyone. You tucked it away like a little secret—something you’re ashamed of, and in a way, you are, even if you feel like you have no right to be.

“Jesse mentioned you let yourself in,” you hear Noah as he enters his room, eyes already finding you curled up against his pillow, tucked into his green hoodie—your favourite of his. You always seek it out in times of comfort or need, and now is one of those times.

“Yeah, sorry…” you mumble, wiping at your eyes. They still sting from when you were crying earlier. You’d managed to calm yourself down before Noah came home, but the moment after you’d arrived and wrapped yourself in the cocoon of his bed, you fell apart—flooded with too many memories, too many thoughts, and the heavy realization of something you’d tried so hard to block out.

“Hey, you been crying?” His voice is gentle, cautious, as he closes the space between you and sinks down onto the bed beside you. His large hand reaches out to soothe you, brushing gently along your arm, your back—anywhere he can touch, but all it does is make your breath catch in your throat as you fight off the reemerging tears.

The moment they fall, Noah doesn’t move to pull you into his arms. Instead, he gently draws you from beneath the covers, lays your head in his lap, and pulls the hood of his hoodie—the one you’re wearing—down just enough to let his hand rest lightly atop your head.

“It’s okay. I’m here. What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice quiet and soothing. He’s not pressing, just offering space and comfort, and it sounds like he truly cares. Your body shakes with the weight of emotion, the effort to hold back the sobs failing as they start up again.

He shushes you softly, fingers threading through your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You don’t need to see his face to know how deeply concerned he is—you can imagine his brows furrowed with worry, nothing but care written across his features, and you know he probably has a good idea of who brought this on.

Sadly, he’d be right.

When you recount the story, the reason for your current state, your voice is quiet at first, barely above a whisper.

“I thought something happened that night,” Noah confesses.

You had been drunk, having fun out with your friends, and with someone new—the same someone your ex had convinced you to leave with. The three of you, together.

You’d agreed to it at the club, thinking it would be just another experience to cross off your checklist, the way every young person does, and Noah had trusted you to go, because you were with your ex—someone who was supposed to take care of you.

You hear the grind of his teeth when he realizes that had been far from the truth, like he’s biting back a snide remark about your ex, but he reins it in. He’s doing better at listening now, keeping his mouth shut, because he wants to let you speak. He’s giving you the space you need to share whatever you’re ready to say.

You recount what you remember, how you started to second guess things on the way there, how when you arrived, you changed your mind. Only your ex changed it right back.

You wanted it. You keep repeating that now, like somehow, if you say it enough, you’ll convince yourself you’re overreacting.

Your voice sounds empty as you describe the act—the way you let a stranger fuck you on a mattress on their living room floor, even though you hated it, but your body had let it happen, so you tell yourself maybe you didn’t hate it that much, right?

You bury your face in the fabric of his hoodie when emotion chokes you, your voice muffled and thick as you quietly mumble,

“I never liked anything they said they were into. I just wanted them to like me.”

The truth is, you were years deep into a relationship with someone who never really seemed interested in you. You were younger, more naive, convinced that if you liked what they did, they might finally care, but you never needed to do that.

You never had to break off pieces of yourself to mold into their idealized version of someone—a fucked up one at that.

“I just wanted to go home…”

That’s the part that breaks Noah’s heart the most, because you were supposed to be with someone who made you feel safe. Instead, you were left with someone who made you feel the exact opposite.

It’s not regret. Regret doesn’t leave bile sitting in your throat every time you dare to think about what happened, and it’s not regret when you never wanted it in the first place. You’d said yes—until you were sober enough to want to back out, but by then, it was too late, and it wasn’t anything else, because it hadn’t been forceful.

That’s what your ex told you, and you believed them. You let their version of events sink its claws into you. The version where you hadn’t been crying in the bathroom, begging to go home. Where they hadn’t been kissing you to calm you down, to smooth things over, to manipulate you.

“It’s coercion.” Noah’s soft voice breaks the silence of the room—and the storm in your mind. Just like that, the noise dulls. It all falls quiet the moment he speaks.

You turn your head slightly, the smallest motion of acknowledgment, a silent ask for him to explain.

“What you described… it’s coercion.” His fingers stroke through your hair, gently massaging your scalp in that same soothing way as before.

“You did nothing wrong.” His reassurance feels like the weight you’ve been carrying is finally starting to lift—even if just a little.

“They did.” There’s a distinct bite in his tone, something bordering on open disgust. You already knew how deeply he disliked your ex, but now, now it feels more justified than ever.

You let out a shaky breath. Noah shifts beside you, moving until he’s lying next to you. He rolls you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you as he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in.

“I wish you had told me… but I understand why you didn’t.”

You close your eyes as warm tears slip silently down your cheeks.

“No one’s ever gonna hurt you like that again,” he murmurs. “I promise.”

His arms tighten around you, and you exhale—slow, steady. For the first time in a long while, you feel safe, you feel loved, you feel protected.

With him, you feel like you’re home.

[lycaran]

Tenna's starting to regret that new commercial spot...

Transcript (bc I screwed up coloring the text boxes. Bad.)

Panel 1: "Yellow?"

Panel 2: "Yes Mr.-"

Panel 3: "[[CRT]]!"

Panel 4: "Did you need anything?"

Panel 5: "Nothing."

(Inspired by these 2 text boxes)

Further context and some early versions under the read more!

(Btw, constructive criticism is appreciated! I've never drawn Deltarune fanart before, so I'm still figuring out how to draw everyone.)

I'm not gonna lie! Those 2 text boxes have given me an inexplicable level of brain rot. Tenna working with the Addisons? What could go wrong!

Alot, honestly, probably. I like the idea that Tenna was confident that it was a good idea at first. But something about that Yellow Addison reminds him of Spamton and it makes his skin Crawl.

Also! First time drawing Deltarune Fanart. It's! Definitely a work in-progress, lol! But I didn't see anyone else latching onto Tenna and the Addisons so by FUCK, I'll do it.

I have a few other ideas based around these three.

The Orange & Yellow Addisons "leaving" with Tenna, and running his commercial breaks at Mettaton's house. Tenna coming up with nicknames for them, (Adlib/"Libbie" for Yellow, Addendum/"Dennis" for Orange), Tenna getting them some new outfits. Yellow and Orange having seperate break downs because they look in the mirror and all they can see is Spamton.

They're "Big Shots", they've got their dreams but- but- they're alone. It's just the two of them.

Living large. Living well. And Yet, the mistakes of Spamton dangle over their heads. Horrible reminders that this could fail- and fail Big.

Anyway! Some earlier sketches! And such! I had fun with this!

[urmomsfavoritelittleone]

Erik Campbell X Reader

Here's a chapter from my Erik one-shots Wattpad story

Let me know if anyone wants to request a chapter I can post on both Tumblr and Wattpad

Female reader X Erik

You sat on your spinning stool at your desk in your shop drawing designs for customers. You take off one of your black gloves to change the music on your phone. You grab a remote to change the LED lights that surround the roof of your shop from blue to red. You hear the door ring as it swings open.

"Y/N?"

You stay staring at your desk drawing your tattoo designs not even needing to look up to know who it is.

"Erik?"

You yell not letting your gaze fault from your drawing.

"You didn't forget about my appointment did you?"

He asks.

"Of course not. Come sit down."

You hear him sit down in the adjustable chair as it squeaks under him.

Finally, for the first time, you look up from your drawing at the messy-haired boy who is sitting in front of you. You wheel your chair over to the chair he sat in sitting inches away from him.

"So what were you looking to get done today?"

Erik sits up seemingly excited at his idea as he grips his phone in his hands.

"Well y'know, I was thinking of getting something new done."

You're eyebrow raises

"Mhm?"

"And since you've done all my other piercings I thought it would only be right to come to you for this one too."

"Just spit it out already."

"I want to get a Prince Albert."

You're eyes widen.

"Okay just so I know there isn't a miscommunication, I know some people like to make up names for piercings, you are aware a Prince Albert is located on your penis?"

"Yes, and I already did the research and shit."

"Okay. So if we're going to do this piercing I would need to take you to a closed backroom. Just for privacy reasons."

"Alright alright, I know."

Erik swings his legs around the chair standing up, and you quickly do so as well. You throw off your other black glove that you neglected to remove earlier into a bin next to your desk.

You had Erik follow you into a locked room in the back of your shop. You mess around with a bunch of keys on a Keychain attached to your belt loop before grabbing a bright pink one and unlocking the door with it.

You place the key back in your key ring and point to the chair in the middle of the room.

"You can go ahead and sit there."

Erik practically skipped over to the chair as he quickly sat down. You can't tell if it's from nerves or if he's genuinely excited.

Before you sit down you grab two more black gloves and tug them onto your hands snuggly. You grab a few items you're going to need. You take one of the alcohol pads and wipe the table before placing your needle, tube, alcohol pads, marker, and jewelry down.

You stay focused on your tools as you start to talk.

"Okay so before I do this, I am going to have to inform you of some health concerns that can come with these types of piercings, I know you said you researched but I still gotta inform you for y'know legal purposes or whatever."

"Whatever you gotta do doll."

Doll. The name made you blush. However, he couldn't tell due to the way you were sitting away from him.

"Okay so typically with these kinds of piercings since they go in your urethra, they can cause UTIs and STDs however that's a bit unlikely. If you have to go to the hospital say Micheal pierced you."

Erik laughed. You tried to lighten the mood, as you could tell how his breathing was starting to quicken as it got closer to the time to pierce him.

Erik wasn't a wuss when it came to getting pierced but he always tended to get a bit anxious right before.

You continued to talk.

"These piercings usually take 8 to 14 weeks to heal however I would wait up to 20 weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse."

You cringed at the string of words. Sexual intercourse? You and Erik were friends it wouldn't have been too weird to just say sex. However, you still tried to remain professional. Since you didn't want to get fired.

You finish your spiel of health risks that came along with the piercings. You stood up and threw away the gloves you used to set up your materials.

"Okay, so I'm going to step out and give you a bit of privacy to undress from the bottom down. You don't need to take off your pants but you're more than welcome too."

"More than welcome too? That sounds kind of weird."

"I'm required to say it shush."

"That's weird."

"Shut up."

You walk over to the door.

"Just give me two knocks when you're ready."

"Will do."

Erik gave you a thumbs-up as you walked out of the room closing the door behind you.

While he was getting ready you decided to change your sign that said Open to Closed since it was already so late. Once you were done with Eriks piercing it would be time to close shop.

You almost jump from the sound of the knocks on the door behind you. You rush over to the door slowly opening it.

"You ready?"

You try not to glance down at Erik who was now sitting back down in the chair with his pants draped over the top of the chair. His shoes are in front of him on the floor.

"I guess so."

You grab another pair of gloves tugging them onto your hands. You grab your blue marker and wheel over to the edge of the chair Erik was occupying.

You carefully grab Erik's penis opening the marker and marking a spot that he couldn't see yet.

"Is that good? Do you wanna it higher, lower?"

You place the lid back on the marker as Erik grabs his penis looking at the placement.

"It's good."

"You gettin' nervous?"

You could tell whenever Erik would get nervous during a piercing. He would only resort to the bare minimum of dialogue.

"Just a little."

You turn around to your table and grab a clear-looking tube and an 8-gauge needle.

"Okay, so this tube is just going to go in your urethra only to the point that I marked. It might be a little uncomfortable but it'll only take a second. However, tell me it hurts and we can maybe find another way to do this."

Erik slowly nods looking up at the ceiling and back down at his penis repeatedly.

You slowly put the tube in the proper place and hold the needle in your other hand.

"Do you want me to count off?"

"Y/N. You know me. When have I ever asked you to- FUCK!"

You poked the needle through his skin and are now grabbing the jewelry to put through it.

"I would recommend only using titanium jewelry for this piercing, I know we say that for all of them but since this one is in such a place that is susceptible to infection I would make extra sure that the jewelry in this one is always titanium."

You finish screwing the piercing closed and stand up to throw away your gloves.

You hear Erik chuckling behind you, which makes your heart flutter.

"Damn, you didn't even give me to think about anything."

"If you thought about it for too long you might've chickened out."

"When have I ever chickened out?"

"Well I mean you almost left my shop with one nipple piercing."

"What if that's just the look I wanted?"

"It wasn't."

You turn around to see Erik pulling up his underwear and pants over his freshly pierced penis. The sight makes your cheeks turn a shade of red.

"What? You like what you see?"

You were used to this kind of flirty nature from him.

"Erik."

"What?"

You grit your teeth.

"I still gotta be professional, you doofus."

"Oh right."

Erik winks at you as he zips up his pants and puts his shoes back on.

"So how much was this again?"

He asks.

"You know all your piercings are on the house."

"Yeah yeah."

You both walk out of the room, and you lock the door behind the both of you. And meet Erik at the front of your store.

You place your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your feet.

Erik points to your now Closed sign.

"I see you're closed."

"Yeah?"

"Does that mean you still gotta be professional?"

There's a pause for a moment. Not an awkward one. More of a comedic pause.

"I guess not."

"So how about let's say we go to a movie sometime?"

You chuckle a bit.

"What are you 15? And when would be going to this movie?"

You can see a smirk start to appear on his face.

"The next time you're off soooo..."

He looks down at his invisible watch before continuing.

"Next Wednesday? Maybe 6 pm?"

"You have my schedule memorized?"

You laugh.

"Just the days you're off..so I can know when we can hang out."

"Uh-huh.."

"So whatdya' say?"

"Sure."

You give Erik a warm smile and for a second his smirk is off his face and he replaces it with a smile.

"Okay, then I'll see you then."

Erik turns around to leave.

"See you later."

Erik walks out of your shop leaving you alone.

You grab your phone and resume the music that was playing before he arrived.

You couldn't help smiling like an idiot as you cleaned your shop for the night. Because you Y/N just scored yourself a date with Erik Campbell.

[beautyoftheships]

A little Drabble from forever ago that I don’t know if I’ll ever add too. I had plans and ideas but never made it very far. It’s heartbreaking- I apologize in advance for that.

He sat on the front porch watching the sun sink lower behind the houses across the street. Everything was bathed in golden light, the sky painted in soft colors. It was a beautiful sight, a beautiful moment. Or it would have been if the moment belonged to someone else. Someone who’s heart hadn’t been shattered into a million tiny pieces. Tiny pieces that were cutting into his chest in an effort to escape the pain. Tiny shards digging into his ribs and creating new wounds with each breath he took.

You’ll be okay kiddo. His dad had told him on his way out the door mere hours ago. The only comfort he’d offered since he’d come home in tears the night before. He knew his dad meant well but he was aware that his dad was more relieved by the events than anything else. Derek was to old. Derek had a record. Derek was a werewolf. His dad had plenty of reasons to celebrate them no longer being together. He thankfully kept his celebration to himself.

Want me to shoot him for you? Allison had been so sincere in her offer he couldn’t help but laugh through his tears when she’d stopped by earlier. She was the only one who hadn’t told him he’d be fine, that he’d get over it. She offered him her shoulder to cry on and her bow to make him feel better. If only that would make him feel better.

He didn’t want to hurt Derek. Didn’t want to cause any pain to him despite how easily he’d shattered his heart without a second thought. He knew why he’d done it, why he felt like he had to let go of what they had. Stiles just didn’t agree with him. He didn’t agree that he was safer not being attached to the alpha.

It felt like the safest place he could be was with Derek. By the alphas side, in his bed. How could he not be safe there? Sitting here felt like he was just waiting for someone to come along and see him all alone. To see him without the pack around him and to take that as an invitation to use him. It wouldn’t be the first time the human of the pack had been used to draw out the pack.

He tried to not feel bitter at those thoughts. Hell, he tried to not have those thoughts at all. He couldn’t help it though. Couldn’t help but feel bitter at being the only human in the pack. Sure Allison was human too but she was a hunter. She’d been trained on how to deal with the supernatural, how to be as strong as them. She knew how to survive and how to fight. All he was good for was his research skills.

Would anyone even miss him if he just packed up and left? Would they notice he was gone? How long would it take for them to notice? Would they notice before they needed him to research something?

Those thoughts weren’t helping him any. Then again, maybe they were? Maybe he really would be better off just packing and taking off? Maybe the pack would be better without him to weigh them down. Lydia could handle the research they needed. She often helped him do it wasn’t like she didn’t know what she was doing.

But his dad. His dad would surely miss him. He’d be alright though. He worked so much and was rarely around anymore as it was. He sure wouldn’t miss Stiles nagging him about eating better. And Melissa would check in on him. He didn’t know what was going on there but something was going on. So his dad would be okay. He’d call him and plan visits. He’d know he was okay and he’d miss him but it wasn’t like college wasn’t going to take him away anyways. This was just earlier than that. Earlier than they’d planned.

With his mind made up he stood from the porch, heading inside the dark house. The house was always dark and quiet. It wouldn’t change if he stayed or if he left. What would change when he left? Would anything even change? Would anyone even notice?

[baldyeldritch]

Duality of man (the Minyard twins)

[oken-art]

If Hector got transported to a world with a female Jack... I feel like he'd have an aneurysm. Covering her with his coat when she gets wet or just strips without thinking. Bridal style carry out of nowhere because she was doing the typical Sparrow-sway. Almost had a heart attack when she eats one of his apples suggestively. He catches no breaks.... beats up male Jack as soon as he sees him again though.

my hand slipped

[caramelmochacrow]

happy birthday himari!!! :D

[benevolenterrancy]

What kind of prompts are you looking for?

Hmm, the more "specific" a prompt is, the more fun it is for me I suppose 🤔 If I'm already feeling low on inspiration "draw Character X" or "draw Ship Y" doesn't really help much, but silly scenarios or what-have-you's are fun to play with and imagine!

As for fandoms, obviously I'm deep into mxtx hell at the moment so those are what I'd probably latch onto first, but honestly any fandom I'm familiar with can be fun, especially if it's one that I don't have an excuse to draw for very much ^^ like revisiting an old friend

[raindrvq]

youtube recommended me some random video of some dudes playing skyblock and taking a bong rip every time they complete an objective its like an hour long and i rly enjoy this. i think i should beg my friends to do this

[friedno]

(tumblr kicked twitter off the couch to make more space for him and reddit LMAO)

[risingsunresistance]

Just wanted to say that I love your drawings so much. Instant serotonin. The skies open and the world becomes good again.

1000000/10. They're great. Love them every time you post them

ty i'm glad you like them so much <33 sorry i havent posted a finished drawing in uhhhh Months i took a splatoon doodles detour and havent had nearly as much free time now that i have a job lol

[blackwaxidol]

The reblog to original post ratio, oh the feng shui of my blog is truly fucked...

[wintrii-shadows]

More Aromantic Visibility Day stuff, but Alastor Because yes

I don't plan on posting much more Hazbin any time soon if at all, because I'm not entirely sure how much I want to interact with the fandom But the aroace Alastor side is good so far so I wanted to post this :3 Bonus below of what probably happened just before vv

(I drew this before the other one and haven't drawn Alastor in a bit as well as only having drawn Rosie a couple of times before so this one's kinda eh)

[bloomseishiro]

Hi! Can I request some BLLK drabbles (with whichever BLLK characters you like) where the boys see the reader in tight clothes for the first time? Like, the reader usually wears baggy clothing or stuff that hides their curves/body figure, so it’s a total surprise! It doesn’t have to be a dress—tight shorts and crop tops work too!

Anyways, I love you and your fics! You’re doing amazing, hunny! 💕 Keep doing what you’re doing—your stories make me smile and feel the thrill!! 💓🩷💗

what a surprise — he sees you in tight clothes for the first time

౨ৎ ft. nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, itoshi rin

a/n. THANK YOU SWEET ANON FOR THE REQUEST!! i had sm fun writing this and ur kind words def made my day ^-^ i chose the three characters i’m most comfy with heh one day i will expand!! >.>

contents. fluff, pre-relationship, timeskip/pro soccer player bllk boys, reader wears a tight dress for rin and nagi’s + crop top/short shorts for sae’s, these are suggestive so rated 16+ pls ! 

NAGI SEISHIRO

Nagi isn’t one to go to parties often. But this one was for Reo’s birthday and you were begging him to go. 

He thought it would be less of a hassle to simply agree with you and make an appearance. Besides, he could always bring his phone and hide in the corner of the room, if needed. 

But when Nagi sees the dress you’re wearing to the party, he decides maybe agreeing to come wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

“Does this dress make my butt look big?” you ask from his room, popping your head out of the doorframe. 

The two of you are getting ready at Nagi’s apartment, mainly so he can’t flake at the last minute, and he had stepped out earlier to give you privacy while changing. 

At your question, Nagi looks around lazily before his eyes widen slightly at the sight of you. The dress on your body is short and tight, leaving nothing to the imagination when it comes to the shape of your waist and hips. 

Nagi swallows with uncertainty. It’s different from your usual attire, that much even he could recognize. 

“Yes,” he manages to answer your question honestly. 

You beam as if that's just the response you’re looking for. “Great! I was going to wear my usual clothes, but Reo said we should dress nice since his family invited some celebrities.”

Nagi nods in acknowledgment. “Your dress is nice. But your usual clothes are nice, too.”

Hiding a giggle, you tug the dress down so it covers more of your thighs. Nagi can’t help but notice how shiny and supple your skin looks there. 

“Do you like one more than the other?” you ask playfully. 

He shakes his head hesitantly and he feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I like…both.”

“I’ll make sure to mix it up sometimes, then.”

ITOSHI SAE

Sae isn’t a saint. He’s never claimed nor pretended to be. While his focus has always been on soccer, he wasn’t one to turn down one night stands so long as they were conveniently timed for him. 

All that to say, he’s seen plenty of minimally-clad bodies before. But he’s never felt the dryness in his throat that he does now. All from seeing you in those denim booty shorts and cropped baby tee. 

Of course, the ridiculous shirt has, “Make Men Cry” written across your chest, only accentuating the curves you normally kept hidden even more. You may very well be able to reach that goal if you keep walking around like that. 

His face is neutral; only Sae himself feels the slight clench of his jaw as his eyes trail across your figure. 

“Do I look bad?” you blurt hesitantly, tugging at the hem of your shirt that landed just above your belly-button. Your fidgeting only serves to draw more attention to the exposed, soft skin on your stomach. 

Sae blinks slowly. “No. Who said that?”

“No one, but you just keep staring at me…” 

“Not because you look bad,” he corrects. “It’s because you look hot.”

“You think?” you ask shyly, peering up at him through your lashes. “My friend and I went on a shopping spree and I wanted to change up my wardrobe. Just sometimes, at least.”

Sae makes a mental note to thank your friend. “Well, if you need more clothes, you can use my card.”

“I’ll make sure to get more of these cropped tops. Since you seem to like it so much,” you tease.

“For whatever reason, only on you.”

ITOSHI RIN

Awestruck doesn’t begin to describe how Rin feels when he sees you in a silk dress that gracefully falls against all your curves. 

Galas are a pain, a stupid event he would skip if not for his PR team’s incessant prodding, but at least he managed to drag you along with him for this one. 

He didn’t, however, actually expect you to dress the part. He would’ve been fine if you had shown up in the oversized shirts and baggy pants you typically wore, but he was completely caught off guard at the sight of you now.

“Can you help me tighten the back?” you ask bashfully, turning around to reveal the almost-backless dress that held itself together by a few measly strings. “I don’t want it to fall off at the gala…”

Rin’s ears heat up and he mentally slaps himself for picturing that. “Yeah. C’mere.”

You aren’t one to wear revealing clothes often, and this is the most skin he’s seen since he ever met you. His fingers ghost the back of your spine as he fastens the strings into a little bow. His fingers jerk as he skims the softness of your skin and he clears his throat to distract himself. 

“Is this good?” he asks hoarsely. 

You tug at the straps to make sure it’s secure and nod brightly. “Yep! Thanks, Rin. Do you need help with anything? I can tie your tie in return!”

Panicked, he shakes his head and quickly fastens his tie himself. It’s the fastest Rin has ever gotten it done. Once finished, he catches you staring at him with a funny look. 

“You’re acting silly,” you say, sticking your tongue out.

“Sorry. I know. I’m just not used to you looking like that.”

Your gaze meets the floor as you shuffle your weight from foot to foot. “Is it weird?”

“It’s unfamiliar. But you look…” he trails off, cheeks a bright pink. “You look really pretty.”

You blink in surprise and an equally embarrassed look graces your features. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he coughs. “Not that you’re not always pretty. Just…it’s different.”

“Yeah,” you repeat, giggling through the shyness. “Well, if you want to see me like this more often, I guess you have to invite me as your plus one to more of these events.”

“Do you want to attend more of these with me?” asks Rin in surprise. 

“Not particularly,” you admit and Rin scoffs. “But maybe it’s worth it to see your cute reactions.”

His face heats up once more. “Shut up.” 

You laugh at him, placing your hand on your hips and only drawing more attention to your curves. Maybe Rin doesn’t hate galas, after all.

[darkmatilda]

𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: teasing spencer leads him to attempt guessing the color of your underwear. and he (almost) gets it right.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, bar, teasing, lots of underwear talk — do i even need to say more?? oh and reader’s wearing a dress. and *surprise* underwear

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k (+ a little treat/surprise at the end!)

𝐚/𝐧: forehead kisses for the anons who inspired this idea LOVE U

“Hiding by yourself at the bar at your best friend’s birthday party? You should be ashamed, Spencer Reid.”

The man didn’t turn his head toward you right away, and he didn’t seem particularly surprised that you were calling him out. Well, he was indeed sitting at the bar without any of your other friends nearby, slightly hunched, with an expression that suggested he wasn’t in the mood to party—but hadn’t wanted to disappoint Penelope, so he’d shown up.

 He had to know that his gloominess would soon draw you in.You took the most pleasure in teasing him when he was like this, which is why, the moment you caught his silhouette out of the corner of your eye, your legs practically carried you toward it on their own.

At the sight of you, he didn’t suddenly pull his shoulders back to look better, nor did he tilt his chin up with fake confidence. He only gave the slightest shrug—but you saw his gaze sweep deliberately over your body and outfit as you took a seat beside him, turning to face him directly.

Then his slow eye movement suddenly shot in another direction—he nodded toward something.

“As you can see, my best friend has more interesting things to do than play hide-and-seek with me,” he snorted, aiming the sarcastic edge at you and your earlier words rather than at Garcia.

You glanced in the direction he’d indicated, and your eyebrows twitched with interest at the sight of Penelope flirting with some man who was hunched forward to talk to her, trying to make up for the noticeable height difference.

“Our girl is busy hunting. Be patient with her,” you said in a scolding tone.

He caught your gaze, sending you a silent I’m being very patient—without even the faintest hint of a smile.But you weren’t interested in his moodiness just yet, and you ignored him for a moment, observing your friend’s seduction tactics—or rather, the man she was working them on.

“What do you think, profiler? Could there be something there?”

Spencer snorted.

“Exactly. Profiler. It’s usually part of my job to assess different things than whether my friend and some random guy are a match. Like, say…serial offenders.”

You grimaced at his condescending tone. Only then did the corner of his mouth twitch slightly, as if some internal smugness had just bubbled up.

“Imagine he is one of them,” you suggested.

“Then I wouldn’t be sitting here doing nothing. And I definitely wouldn’t be letting her talk to him,” he replied flatly.

You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated boring. Your irritation—entirely his fault—seemed to work like fuel for him. He fully turned to face you now, looking noticeably more energized.

“No, I don’t think anything could come of it,” he added. “Mostly because the guy’s married.”

Your skeptical look.

“Where does that certainty come from?”

“Profiler’s instinct. But seriously,” Spencer paused, resting one elbow on the counter and leaning slightly toward you to point something out with a tilt of his head. Before you followed his gaze, you took a moment to wonder whether he was wearing a different cologne than usual, or if you had simply forgotten what his regular one smelled like. Either way, it was pleasant. His eyes rested on your face for a second, as if to check whether he had your attention. He did.  “Look. Every now and then he moves his hand like he wants to reach for his wedding ring. A typical married man reflex. But he stops himself so he won’t give it away. Just like now.”

The guy indeed made a slight motion with his hand, which he then let fall along his side. With Reid’s comment so close to your ear, it felt like you were watching a National Geographic documentary — except the narrator had a sexier voice.

“Also, see that lighter skin on his finger?”

You narrowed your eyes.

“I see it,” you admitted after a moment. “He tanned around the ring.”

He nodded approvingly.

“You’re learning fast.”

You didn’t let him mock you.

“Can I call myself a profiler now?” you asked.

You could see her barely holding back a scoff.

“To get that far, you’d have to draw a few more conclusions. What you just said—anyone who had a Sherlock Holmes phase as a kid could’ve picked up on it. Or just someone a bit more observant. A real profiler would’ve added something else.”

You stared at him for a moment before rolling your eyes toward the ceiling in mock surrender.

“Fine. Go ahead, show off, profiler.”

You knew he was waiting for that. He didn’t even acknowledge your sarcastic tone—he jumped straight into his explanation.

“Look at his posture. He’s trying way too hard to seem relaxed. Classic behavior for someone who hasn’t flirted in a long time. Which means this is probably his first slip—or attempt, anyway. He had a fight with his wife, it’s recent. He stormed out of the house angry, ended up here, tried to blow off steam. But the more he talks to Penelope, the more his confidence shrinks. Guilt’s creeping in. He didn’t cheat, but he’s guilty of the thought, and that’s enough to wreck his game. He’s getting quieter. Penelope’s picking up on it. Any second now she’ll decide she’s not into this conversation and walk away…”

Reid clapped his hands, triumphant.

Right on cue, Penelope turned and walked away from the guy.

You hadn’t planned to react, but your lips parted and an incredulous snort escaped before you could stop it. You turned to Spencer with open disbelief.

“No way,” you shook your head. You didn’t care how much it was feeding his ego. You shook your head again, more firmly. “No way. I hate you guys. And by you guys, I mean the entire BAU. You look at some random dude and see all that? Is it like that with everyone? You look at me and what—can you guess the color of my underwear or something?”

He listened to your rant with a deceptively neutral expression. Deceptive, because he was trying to look stoic, like your words and the reaction they provoked weren’t flattering him—when in fact, they totally were. Deceptive, because they added just enough fuel to his confidence that, for a second, it took over, slipped past his usual restraint and came out in the form of a smug:

“I could try.”

You tilted your head to the side. Your gaze held no hesitation, no uncertainty, and definitely no shyness—oh no, absolutely not. Your gaze said you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? Because in no possible universe could you imagine the Spencer Reid you knew speculating about your underwear. Taking it off? Sure. But talking about it with you?

His expression tightened just slightly, like he already regretted his decision. And honestly? He probably did. But he didn’t backpedal with a hasty swallow and awkward excuse. Neither did you. You simply crossed one leg over the other and fixed him with an expectant look. There was already a smug, taunting smile settling comfortably on your lips.

He met your eyes and held them for a beat before taking in a slow breath. That familiar expression began to slide into place—the one that meant full focus, analytical gears turning.

“Well…where to begin,” he mused out loud, his eyes scanning you as if the color of your underwear might be conveniently written across your forehead. Spoiler. It wasn’t. “You’re dressed in black.”

A beat of silence. Your scoff.

“Congrats on the observation.”

“Which means you didn’t have to worry about any color showing through,” he cut in, completely ignoring your jab. Not in a saving face kind of way—he genuinely seemed not to hear it, totally immersed in the challenge he’d foolishly given himself. “So you didn’t have to limit yourself to neutral tones, like beige, which you might pick if you were wearing something light. So I’m assuming you took advantage of that and went with something dark.”

His gaze finally rose from your dress, locking with yours again.

“Hot and cold?” he asked.

“Am I allowed to give you hints?”

He sighed.

You had to admit—it was a good starting point. And maybe it was that tiny bit of appreciation that made you roll your eyes a moment later and mutter, “Burning.”

His grateful nod. The slight twitch of his mouth. He cleared his throat again, forcing himself to continue.

“You could still be wearing beige or white, though. But your outfit today is unusually simple, even boring, for you—”

“Thank you,” you cut in sharply, with a hiss at the end.

“...and you like to stand out, even if it’s just for yourself, so I think it’s not too crazy to assume you went with something bolder. That’s also why I’m ruling out black. Oh, and definitely nothing lacy.”

That last part made you frown. It was said with such certainty you didn’t understand where it came from.

“Profiler instinct again, or do you actually have reasoning to back that up?” you asked.

If everything he’d said up until now was laced with playful speculation, this part landed with surprising confidence. He even shrugged, like it was obvious.

“A bold color and lace is more of a...statement. Usually chosen by women who want to feel a boost of confidence. Which you don’t need. But more importantly, I just don’t think you’d wear something like that just to spend the evening at a bar with someone like me. And someone who’s now using profiling techniques to guess the color of your underwear for… reasons nobody can quite explain.”

The period at the end of his sentence was sharp, but short. He didn’t let you respond, immediately pushing forward.

“And it’s not red.”

That one made you forget everything he’d said before. You hadn’t expected him to rule out red so early. After all, it was—

“It’s your favorite color,” Spencer continued. “You agreed to this whole thing because you knew I knew that, and you were hoping I’d guess it and be wrong. If you were wearing red, you wouldn’t have brought this up at all.”

You were starting to struggle to keep up with his logic. Spencer, on the other hand, was beginning to sound more and more like a brilliant scientist obsessing over his favorite phenomenon. You stayed silent now, genuinely curious what he’d say next.

 He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t wearing red underwear.

“So now I’m hesitating between two colors. Pink, dark pink, and navy blue. Both seem to fit, but I don’t know which one more, so I start considering the symbolism of the colors. Well, pink would be more sensual, even a little cheeky, worn under black clothing. But navy, on the other hand, symbolizes a certain seriousness, stability. Sophistication, even. In the end, I deeply doubt you were sitting by your underwear drawer wondering what your bra color symbolized,” a snort slipped out, but his cheeks began to turn a barely noticeable shade of red.

Well, one of you had to be wearing it that day. For the balance of the universe.

Spencer took another, though not his last, deep breath that evening with you. He took a moment before continuing.

You couldn’t say you weren’t waiting for it, not taking your eyes off him for a second.

“But in the end, I’m going with navy. Reasons are quite simple. First, profiler’s instinct. Second…in my…humble…opinion..you’d look better in blue. 

He finally forced the words out, and you just kept looking at him. In his humble opinion.

Time passed, and he still didn’t get confirmation. All the more, you somehow couldn’t bring yourself to give it to him. Eventually, stiffly and still without a word, you nodded. Once.

“You’re almost right, Doctor Reid.”

He frowned.

“Almost?”

You grabbed the hem of your dress on the side that matched the pair, lifting it just briefly to the right height. Just for his eyes. Your underwear was, in fact, navy.

But also the kind he’d almost ruled out right at the start—lace.

heyy fic’s over tysm for reading but there’s a tiny surprise/crack bit down below if u wanna check it out

:))) 

Penelope massaged her aching temples. Her head was literally splitting, not just from lack of sleep and the alcohol from the night before—in short, her birthday night out with friends. The pain was made worse by the countless screens surrounding her and what was on them. Case files, faces of murderers, often graphic photos.

Ugh. She needed to look at pictures of tiny fluffy kittens.

She scrolled through those little creatures for about five minutes, after which she felt slightly better. She didn’t have anything urgent to do anyway, so she opened Reddit. Just a place where people sometimes asked weird, often hilarious questions.

One of them immediately caught her attention. She clicked.

coworker guessed the color of my underwear and im going ABSOLUTELY FERAL?? 💀💀💀

okay so i’m female and there’s this guy i fw pretty well but he usually pisses me off but yesterday we were at this bar and i was kinda teasing him and told him to guess the color of my underwear and he analyzed me like fucking einstein and GUESSED???? and the worst part is it turned me on??? like somehow it was the most county thing i’ve ever seen and i’ve seen a lot + he literally had his shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck what is WRONG with me

Penelope burst out laughing and her fingers almost instinctively reached for the keyboard.

gurl you just like him! <3