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takes1 · 1 day ago

Note

Hiii, I love all ur fics sm! Ur literally so talented omgg

I wanted to request a fic where Oikawa and short/academically inclined reader are friends with benefits. I think it would be fun to see them get jealous and tiptoe around their feelings for each other since they don’t wanna ruin what they have. Can it also be nsfw and could u add some angst pls? Thank youu!

f*cking jealous!oikawa in secret

hi! thank you so much!! hope this interpretation is alright!

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / short!reader / jealous!oikawa / popular x loser trope / jock x nerd trope / tutor!reader / subby-switch!oikawa / switch!reader / oikawa with a nerd fetish / needy!oikawa towards the end / kind of hate fucking? / oikawa being mean / riding / implied oral / fluff, angst, and smut / reader with glasses / 1.8k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines

"You're sooo lucky to tutor him, (Y/n),"

Your hopeless friend sighed, scrolling through Oikawa's Instagram for the upteenth time.

"I'd give anything to spend that much time alone with him."

It was a little creepy, but you loved her. Other girls fawning over your secret fuck-buddy was something you had to -begrudgingly- get used to. It pained you more when it was somebody so close, but nothing was worth coming clean about it.

The last thing you needed during senior year was a target on your back.

"Oh, he's such a prick!" You wave her off and grab your drink from the café counter with a smaller, pleasant, 'Thank you.'

The table was more of a C-curved booth that your group had to shimmy into. The shape made it hard to get in and out of, rather serving as an ultra-cozy prison to focus on your studies, your caffeine, and your snacks.

As a way of not letting you off the hook so easily- your friends cracked open their notes, laptops, textbooks, while entertaining the 'absurd' idea that any of you could actually date Johsai's least eligible bachelor.

A bunch of star-students with decorated academic achievements was the only impressive thing about the patrons at your favorite, quiet, coffee house. With- maybe-- the exception of money in eyeglass prescriptions, or luxurious stationery that decorated the table.

Your voice stood as the most displeased, the most troubled, of the discussion. You flipped through the chapters, halfway forgetting what page you needed to be on, because you got caught up in his shortcomings.

"He doesn't listen- he takes my hours away from people who might actually need it- he's, obviously, got the biggest ego I've ever seen--, Oh- hold up."

It was a struggle to flip to your page and rummage around your pocket for your buzzing phone.

"Well, I'm glad somebody's got some common sense-," Was the only guy in your group, disgruntled at all the Oikawa-talk.

Oikawa's name flashed across your screen. Your body seized and you hugged it to your chest.

"Woah!"

"You good?"

"I'm just--gonna take this outside," You cleared your throat and sank all the way to the floor, crawling over shoes and bags from under the table to get far away from your friends.

It was on the second-to-last ring by the time you hurried outside. You hated him for many things, but the wind picked up, spraying a chilly mist all over your clothes, and you couldn't help but associate him with the feeling. Your hoodie was still inside, forgotten in your haste.

"What? I'm busy right now." You spat, shivering already.

"Don't fog your glasses up, princess."

His easy, light tone particularly bothered you. You groaned.

"Get to the point, pretty boy, I'm busy--,"

"I know. I just called to say you should stop talking about me. Reads as a bit... obsessive, don't you think?"

The breath you took to poke a hole in his 'obsessive' argument gave way to nothing- except a silent realization.

"You're- where are you?"

You squinted at the dark window, but it was one-way.

Oikawa watched you turn to the parking lot, smirking, from inside the cafe.

He sighed, a real airy, fake one; the one he knew you loved to hear from him in bed.

His voice was lower, closer to the receiver. "I thought you said you were busy?"

The audacity to call you obsessive, mixing with the adrenaline his sudden proximity shot into your system. You pressed 'end call.'

When you re-entered the cafe, you spotted him immediately. He was walking back to his booth, one away from yours, from the restrooms. Though you both saw each other, there was hardly an indication that you knew one another at all, thanks to so much practice.

It was, still, hard to watch him slide into a seat right next to some other girl.

So, he heard you talking shit about him while on a date, then left her to go call you? You rejoined your booth, and spared a mean glance over at him, like the absolute garbage he was. He returned it with lesser intensity.

You'd think, with his cock in your hand, he wouldn't bring up the events of that morning. It put him in a less-than ideal position.

"Y'knoww,"

He hadn't said anything yet, but your eyes were rolling. Used to the attitude, and equipped with a firm point to make, he continued:

"You should ditch- ahh, that little loser in your little friend group."

A little roll of your hips had him wincing- spreading the slickness all across his dick, from all the work he had put in, already.

You cocked your head at him, "Oh, yeah?"

Oikawa's eyes rolled back into his skull, a groan at how hot you looked, grinding on him. You were his perfect, nerdy little secret. He specifically wanted you to keep your glasses on today. It was a thing. You didn't understand it in its entirety, but it likely had a connection to the reason why he opted for a lowkey arrangement.

"And you should ditch that shallow whore--,"

"Oh my god!" He gasped, surprised to hear such a thing uttered from your mouth, "Fuuuck you're so jealous-!"

"Me?"

It was completely unfair and utter bullshit that he acted like his jealousy was nonexistent. To him, only you could get out of your pay grade. He pretended to forget that the only reason you were fucking multiple times a week was because he 'needed' you so bad. You felt a little exploited.

"That's so hot-aughhh!"

His big, strong hands were forcing your cunt against his slippery, thick cock, since you wouldn't move quite right.

"M-mmh-! Tha-t's-," You struggled, voice breaking, hands against his muscular chest, "Not- mh, fair."

Your textbooks, his assignment due in 40 minutes, were neglected on the floor across his bedroom. Your tutoring was basically roleplay. It turned him on as soon as you got to talking about the relevant class material, telling him that the work he had already done was wrong.

It turned you on too, to an extent. You liked that you got him stiff without trying, without touching. You loved when he pretended like he wasn't, but bounced his leg right next to yours, cleared his throat before every response, got caught staring like some depraved creature.

You were exactly his type. He was the hottest guy you'd ever met. Something had to give.

"I- ah, don't wanna--," He fucked you hard, like you had a ring on your finger, "See you talk to that loser again."

He couldn't stand the threat of being second place. A guy with such a precious ego needed to feel like you wouldn't leave him. While your social structure may have harbored the suggestion that this would be the case, it wasn't an accurate representation of your feelings.

The whimper lacing his voice grew as you placed a firm hand around his throat.

"Don't- date- other girls." You threatened through gritted teeth and bitten-back moan.

It was just your luck that the most ridiculous peacock of a man would have such a great dick, give you such great head, that you couldn't live and let this fucked-up situationship die. The timer of the semester ticked away, standing as an informal end to it, so neither of you had the gall to cut things off before you needed to.

He whined under your touch, bottoming out hard, keeping himself as deep as he could get.

The lonely bastard draped his arms around you and pulled you close.

"Mmh- you know I gotta- h-ah, keep up appearances for us, princess," His quiet mutter, spilled across your shoulder, forced a shiver down your spine.

His sheets smelled just like him.

You loosened your grip and decided to play with his soft, lush locks, taking in his scent, his touch- that feeling. Like you were his, but not in some twisted, shameful way.

You wanted one of his shirts but it wasn't that simple.

For the moment, you chased the dream, while he was still gentle and peppering you in kisses.

Maybe in some perfect world, he would let go of his status, be a little less weird about your intelligence, and you could have a boyfriend instead of a glorified dildo.

He sounded close, so you fucked him back, hand back on his throat; you wondered how many girls would be disappointed to know that Oikawa Tohru didn't last very long in bed.

"You wanna cum, pretty boy?"

A wince at your rough, loaded kiss. His grip was iron, his strength speaking enough for how mute you got him.

It was so quiet, so pitiful: "Pl-ease,"

God, he looked so cute all fucked-out. He only looked at you like that. Like he never wanted you to leave, like he couldn't breathe without you around him, like you weren't just friends with benefits.

Too bad you were just some freaky nerd-fetish.

He pulled out and you sat, buzzed, on his drained cock, more than satisfied with the sight of cum all over his stomach.

When you pushed up your fallen glasses, his cock twitched accordingly and reminded you of the only reason you existed to him at all.

Kissing, cleaning up, cuddling, all of the winding down was still commonplace between you. He wanted attention, you wanted time to chill before you had to go home. He even made it difficult to get dressed and out the door.

Today, he kept his arms around your waist when you attempted to get up, after 20 minutes of cuddling.

"Pleaaase stay," He whined, unable to hold you as firm as he wanted for fear he would hurt you.

You smiled.

"I need to study more tonight."

"Study here!" He pouted.

Right. Then this would happen all over again- because as soon as he would see a pencil between your teeth, he'd try to replace it with his cock.

"Really study," You pried his fingers off and got dressed.

He watched for a time, but needed to assert himself more in order to feel like he wasn't useless, or forgettable. He joined to get dressed, too, and kept a close eye on your seemingly unbothered expression.

"I'm sorry for cursing at you."

It was so unimportant that you had no idea what he was talking about.

"It's okay," Rolled off your tongue, fast.

Oikawa got twitchy. His sly attempts at dragging out your departure slipped through his fingers like sand.

"Let me help you with that," His unprompted kiss to your forehead, along with his gentle gathering of your things, left you a bit dazed.

You fixed your hair- hesitant to look at him.

"Thank you."

He insisted, like usual, to walk you home. You sighed and posed the same argument, the way you had for the past month. People would notice if you were together in any capacity. Rumors would start.

When he was done packing your books up, he was touchier, and hung over you like a cat rubbing itself all over your ankles as you walked to the door.

You rationalized that it had to be your glasses. It gave him some sort of kick. He barely let you out of his bedroom, let alone his house.

You forgot to ask for a shirt, but... maybe next time?

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

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may3505w · 2 days ago

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(this is long and I was very horny so a lot of spelling mistakes and it's not very good i think? Idk, enjoy)

I want a guy in my life, wherever it's my work or school or something other class I take, to have a crush on me and rape me because he just can't hold back.

I want him to think nothing much about me when he saw me at first but the day I woke tighter clothing and he could see my body, he knew he needed me. He's more of a loner and isn't very attractive, and I just seem quiet and pretty smart so he knows I won't talk to him, so he just watches my body me from afar, looking at my pretty tits bouncing pretty smile, at my cute ass cute way I brush my hair from my face... He knows he wants me.

He started to observe me more. What I do, who I talk to, what way I take home... So when whatever activity we did together ended, he knew what to do. Cornering me somewhere dark and secluded enough so no one could hear and ripping my clothes off violently and eagerly. He just couldn't wait, he knows he won't have a lot of chances to see someone as cute and pretty as me like that, and he did hear I'm a virgin...

He'd feel my body up as the tore clothes fall onto the ground, kissing me to try to muffle my sounds and moving to sucking on my nipples when he's such there's truly no one around. I struggle and try to push him away. He's sucking too hard and it hurts, his teeth graze and nibble on my pretty puffy nipple as he moves his hands to my torso, holding my back directly behind where my breasts are to pull me closer for a better position to suck harder. He's enjoying this, how much it hurts... how good it hurts.

I start to get used to the pain, tears covering my face at the pain but also from the fear I felt as I feel him sliding one of his hands under my panties. No preparation no anything, he pushed 3 fingers in and starting fucking me with them violently. I got wet from him teasing my nipples so they managed to get in, but the sudden penetration and his huge fingers fucking me so hard and deep...

He took my pants off, sliding one of my legs above his shoulder and slapping my pussy for getting so soaked so fast.

"oh fuck, you're really a whore aren't you? Just need to be dicked down hm?"

He started taking his pants off making my eyes shoot open. I tried to push him off unsuccessfully and hit his chest with my hands as he ignored my protests, only focusing on my body and how he can use it for himself.

"that's fucking pathetic you know? You're smart! Or at least you make people think you are. But in the end of the day, you'll always be a girl. Look at these tits... Fuck, these perfect fucking tits. You're a hole. A very pretty hole, but that's what you are and what you'll be for everyone. For the rest of your life."

He mumbled as he stroked his cock, giving it last few strokes before lining it up with my entrance and looking at me in the eyes, his voice clear and stern.

"such a shame. If only your mind was given to a man. You're too pretty to think though, every men will tell you that. You should be a trophy your man could show around, a pretty little toy that he gets to dick down and show off. It doesn't matter if you want something else, with a body like that, you don't have a choice."

And with that, he pushed in. Surprisingly he was a bit slow at first, watching me panic as he pushes further and deeper in me. He was huge and I was tiny and a virgin and he held my against the wall which didn't make it easier. After a minute of letting me barely adjust though... He started letting out his frustration.

"such a pretty thing, a thing, that's what you are. Come on, let me see those tits, that's all I want from you"

He moved me a bit to lean on the wall as both of my legs leaned on his shoulder, and pushed every inch of his thick, meaty cock back in with one go. Kissing my neck and pounding me as hard and as fast as he possibly can and getting off to my cries of pain at his length.

He fucked me rough and hard, his hands traveling all around my body, touching me like I'm his toy, his flashlight or his doll to play with as if this was what I was made for. I could feel everything so intensely, his cock splitting me in half and hitting me in all the right places, his lips on my nipples making me whimper again, his hands holding me close to him so he could fill me up as deep as he could, his cock twitching inside me... Every sensation was so overwhelmingly strong and as much as I didn't want to admit it I got closer to cumming with every thrust.

He noticed.

A slight chuckle escaped his lips as he felt me tightening around him. He started to go faster.

"don't worry dolly, I'm close too. If we'll come together the chances of you getting pregnant will go up, so I promise I'll do my best to rape that orgasm out of you hm?"

It felt too good to fight it, and the mention of his breeding me and cumming inside... It didn't take long till we both came. He grabbed my hips with one hand and slammed into me aggressively, filling me up completely and reaching as deep as he could while he help my belly softly with the other, pressing slightly to feel his cum pumping inside before finally feeling me cumming around him, giving him the cue he needed. He came hard, shooting long ropes of thick fertile cum into my unprotected womb.

I let a sigh. I started recovering from the orgasm, and as stressful as this situation is, he finally came. I could go home and deal with it, I just need to- he broke my line of thought with another chuckle.

"you're cute. You didn't- fuck... You thought we were done, weren't you? Aww, that's cute. Shhh shhh shhh... It's okay it's okay, just let me fuck my cum back inside you and... That's it, shut the fuck up, good girl. God you're cute like this."

After raping and breeding me dumb for hours, I couldn't even talk or walk right. When he was finally done, there was only one last thing to be done. Putting my underwear back on to keep all the cum inside, and snapping a picture.

"aw you're pathetic... You didn't think that was the last time didn't you? Oh no, I'm gonna use you regularly. And if you have anything to say about that... Just remember who has a picture of you filled to the brim with cum while laying naked on some random sidewalk. Now... Yeah, I think I'll leave you like this. Maybe some strangers will see you and use you, gotta warm you up for me for when I use you tomorrow"

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silverview · 2 days ago

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amazing bracelets @spcvarney made for me, i love them so much 😭💕💕💕 had a great time again at s/f, got to see a bunch of people from here who were all so cool & lovely, i feel so lucky!!

reece & steve DID come out to sign things this time! we were told not to ask for selfies, so i just got my s9 script book signed by both of them. i asked reece if he'd had a good time & he looked up at me, smiled, and said yes he did, and thanks for coming. 🥹💗

there was also merch for sale in the theatre, and that poster i mentioned is s/f specific, but in a way that's not obvious until you've seen the play.

some further unorganised thoughts about the show + audio links below the cut, spoilers obviously ⚠️

new recordings added here (18-01) [edit 20-01-2025: removed the link] in case you want to compare & contrast (@lapis-lazuliie!) there were a few small changes & the scene change with the video screen was much smoother. i accidentally cut off the coda to the song at the very end in my haste to get to the stage door

in the opening sketch, there’s a reference to an 80s-style production of taming of the shrew. certainly a reference to the play where reece first laid eyes on steve. theatre at the heart of their relationship from the very beginning. it really is all about them and their love story

(when you know the twist in this bit, you notice that toby leaves when steve comes onstage, and then once s & r are onstage together, s just stares at r for a moment too long)

in general, i just love the shakespeare in it. love hamlet obviously and love the range of their theatrical references. i get emo about reece on gbbo “jokingly” griping that he’ll never get to play hamlet, because you know he thinks he'd smash it, and you know he knows he never will. and that he still slightly blames his comedy career for the fact he didn’t get to. and that it's specifically a dream that dies when you get too old. (“the most devastating moment in a young man’s life…”)

goudron & hugo are doing it blake & drew style. as in, here’s a creepy guy. here’s the methods he uses to sexually abuse his female patients. now here he is doing those same things to a man. now let’s not address the subtext of that ❤️ yay ❤️ i honestly am thinking about writing self-indulgent fic about them but not till after the run at least. OH AND the set for that whole bit is turquoise, like the trolley problem. alright.

they've changed that bit slightly so that when hugo comes back in, he's already in the chair, and doesn't need to be restrained. which makes much more sense, and it's clear they should have done it that way from the beginning, except force of habit and reece's need to be strapped to a chair made them try it the other way first.

sidenote, i need goudron carnally, i’m sorry. if i’m acting more than typically horny for steve, you know that’s why. i think the drastic & abrupt shift in fuckability levels from act 1 to act 2 doesn’t help. white coat, sleeve garters, moustache, brown hair.

speaking of clothes, reece as himself at the beginning was wearing smart brown shoes + smart trousers + pale blue shirt + soft grey sweater vest. as marcus at the end he's wearing a jacket over a turtleneck, very cute. also very cute as marcus in hugo's stripy pyjamas with a big cosy cardigan over the top. hugo has curly dark hair with a grey streak, and a big curly moustache that gets a laugh when he takes off his surgical mask.

the guest this time was kevin eldon! he did the line from zanzibar and reece went fully into the hokey cokey!!! i would post the clip but it is mostly just me laughing

i mentioned this briefly in my original post, but it really is crazy that they make it so obvious how len has written his real feelings/anxieties about the relationship into the kidnappers sketch. purely because like… lads YOU are sketch writers. you are making it very clear that YOU put your real feelings/anxieties about your relationship into your work. we knew this already but it's too much too much

it's easy to not tell bf what happens in the show (we're seeing it together late feb) but it is very VERY hard to not walk around the flat constantly singing tears of laughter

on the final night at the end steve really does need to just grab reece and kiss him

#in9 #stagefright

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alchemicalterror · 3 days ago

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You mentioned casually dating.

Well casually doesn't automatic mean no romantism

Please indulge this hopeless romantic and tell us what kind of things you do.

Fancy dinners/ casual dinners?

Buying flowers?

Sweet messages?

Well.

Normally I'd sit on this one til St. Valentine's, but given the poll I've got running at the moment, it seems... topical.

I'm big on hand-made gifts, pretty much across the board. I make custom perfumes and colognes, as well as carve fancy candles for folks - the candles go out to friends, too, not just partners, but scents are a romance-only kinda deal.

Beyond that, it tends to depend on the person in question. I ain't gonna give an exhaustive list, but just for a couple examples....

B ain't one for showy overtures, she's a lady who likes good conversations and good meals, and so I'll have her around and cook for her from time to time. She works in food service, and it's nice to take the onus of her having to cater for others off her shoulders a while, let her feel cared for, for a change. Lotta foot rubs and bath salts.

P on the other hand is a lady of style, of culture, well-traveled and fashionable, who loves to see new things and be seen. I take her dancing, to fancy shindigs uptown, I dress up in my nicest clothes and let her fuss over the details. She likes makin' plans, and I ain't gonna take that passion outta her hands. I can't travel much as she'd like to, but if she wants to put together some kinda fancy surprise for me, least I can do is try to keep up and be appreciative of all the work that goes into that. Glamorous as she is, you bet your nose I'm gonna be dressed to the nines any time we meet up; she deserves it.

I've already spoken a bit about how Kirk likes quieter expeditions away from the noise of the city, which I'm more than happy to indulge. I'm hardly a homebody, and especially when the weather's a bit warmer, I love an excuse to head out into the woods a while, and there's a romance to there bein' nobody around but you and a beau for miles, with not much to do but what needs doin' to keep up camp, to talk and watch the stars.

And then there's a lovely Dr. W, with whom I share a number of music and counterculture tastes, who I'll surprise with book signings for authors I know she loves, or invite to concerts when work's been a bit much for both of us. Glory knows being a medical professional is daunting work, and there ain't nothing to take your mind off it like reconnecting with things that let you forget you're anything but instinct, at least for a coupla hours. Music's great for that - the louder the better.

So on, and so forth. Romance lies not in the gestures themselves, but in what they mean to the people you're putting them on for. It's important that I know how to show my partners a good time, with care, forethought, and individual attention to their needs.

And goodness knows, I am a romantic at heart, so I take very special care to make sure I do just that. Hope that answers your question~

#Answers #Anonymous #Jonny Blogs #Jonathan Blogs #Jonathan Crane #The Scarecrow #DC Askblog #Independent Jonathan Crane #mod art #dcau askblog #lore

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eveningstcr · 2 days ago

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Tiana only hummed in response for a moment, an acknowledgement that they probably did have a better relationship with bar patrons than Peter did. A bar fight around Tiana would be broken up in moments, and Peter was obviously hinting at... Well, something darker. With the way he was describing it, the waitress didn't quite believe that he wasn't hiding a stab wound or broken rib under his jacket. But they wouldn't push it if he didn't want to be pushed.

"Peter, I know you're trying to make this sound like it's nothing, but it doesn't look like 'nothing' to me," Fights like this didn't happen for no reason. He could try to minimize it as much as he wanted, but Tiana still remembered enough of his little cues to know when he was covering something up. Life was messy, that was a fact. Tiana had already felt the loss of their father so many years ago. They couldn't let anyone else go without a fight.

"Yknow, when I lost my dad, I felt like I lost everything. My momma and I were destroyed, she could barely stand up. I missed the way he could convince me to believe in myself, I missed having him warm up the house," Maybe parents weren't something Peter could relate to personally, but the thought of losing anyone in their life just made Tiana emotional. If Peter really was in trouble, he could at least know there's someone who would care if he got hurt ( or worse ), "When I think about losing someone I care about..."

Tiana's voice caught for a moment, though they quickly covered it was a sigh. If the waitress remembered correctly, Peter wasn't big on big weepy sentiments - maybe he didn't spot the moment of feeling with a cloth held over one eye, "I just mean... What I'm tryna say is, I know why you don't want me to get close again," Sometimes it was easier to distance all their relationship and focus on work, money, achievements. Everything they could do to not feel alone in life, "So don’t you go worrying about me doing too much either. Cooking's what I do. And I’d rather be here making sure you’re alright than sitting anywhere else wondering if you’re okay."

Peter's brows furrowed just slightly, something about the idea of Tiana assuming that his compliment had been purely for niceties sake not settling the right way with him. " I'm not just saying it. I mean it. " how could he not? when the place he called home was a makeshift office at the back of the Hangmans Tree, it didn't leave him a lot of room to judge where anyone else rested their head. " this place is nice. it ... feels like a home. " with their approval to make himself at home, he made his way over to the couch before taking a seat. " you don't have to cook for me too, you know. " he murmured, a small flicker of guilt in his chest over making Tiana do so many things on his behalf.

" oh, I'm sure you have. but who would ever pick a fight with you while you were in a bar? " he murmured, his gaze tracking their movements around the room as he spoke, watching as they gathered the supplies needed to tend to him and feeling just a little helpless in the process. " I mean - I don't think I've ever seen you even be impolite to anyone. " granted, a lot of bar fights weren't started for the most logical of reasons, but he still struggled to imagine Tiana in a situation like that. they were too kind, too patient. " not to mention they'd have to deal with half the town lining up to avenge you afterward if word got out. " he hesitated just briefly then, recalling all of Tiana's promises to care for him and deciding to hand out one of his own. " me included. " he turned his body toward Tiana once they took their seat beside him, angling himself in their direction.

" my stomach would thank me too if I made my way to your side, I imagine. but you know that I — " his protests died on his tongue when he felt Tiana press the cold cloth to the side of his head, his words replaced by a sharp hiss through his teeth instead. " would you believe me if I said it wasn't too bad? " he murmured sheepishly, a lopsided smile on his cracked lips. " and that I'm sure it looks worse than it actually is? "

#// threads #// peter pan

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unreadpoppy · 10 months ago

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Saw a video and it got me in a mood so i'm making this post.

I don't think people who have never been fat knows how fucking hard it is to find clothing for bigger bodies.

The first issue is finding stuff in your actual size. Because time after time after time and time again I've gone to a store and they only had small and medium sizes. Not even large. And this was not for a few clothes, no. It was for MOST clothes that I found interesting. And then the ones that were marked as large were simply not big enough.

And I know that the reason for that is that brands simply won't make clothes for fat people. It's that because it surely isn't because the large size is selling out fast. They just don't do it. And some people have the nerve to say 'well brands are not obligated to make sizes for everyone' yeah sure, but also, I can't walk naked on the street can I?

Like I don't get it. 'oh but we want our clothes to fit a especific body' so fucking make clothes that are supposed to fit bigger bodies. Doesn't have a to be a whole ass collection.

And then we get on the second problem which is making clothes for plus size people that are ugly as hell. It's always the same stuff: ugly florals, animal print that belongs in another decade, cold shoulders, that weird extra fabric at the end of a shirt to hide the belly, or just black/muted colors.

Like fun fact. If you have big boobs, the hardest thing in the world is trying to find a bra that comes in a color that isn't white, black or beige. Because trust me, I've spent 3 hours walking in the shopping mall and I couldn't find anything that fit my breasts that was like pink (and in that situation I needed a pink bra for a play).

It feels like most clothes made for plus sized people are designed with like 50+ year old white women in mind, and not even that demographic of people are wearing those clothes (my mom is a plus sized 50+ year old white woman and often talks about how ugly some clothes made for people her size are).

It's hard trying to develop your own sense of style when none of the clothes around you are in your size, and when they do, they are just not good looking to you.

But you wanna know what's the down right worst part? Do you know what fucking brand has clothes that look good and are amde for bigger bodies?

The goddamn cancer on this earth that is Shein.

I fucking hate shein. Fast fashion is killin the fashion industry, they literally have people working as slaves and many influecers buy shein clothes by the bulk only to then throw it in the trash. Shein is awful.

But. Unfortunetly, shein is the only place that I found that had clothes that fit me and looked good. I don't like that. I avoided buying from shein for the longest time ever, but jesus christ, when you can't find clothes anywhere else you get desperate.

I tried looking for other places. I tried looking at my local clothing stores and everything was too small for me. I tried looking at online small bussinesses but they either didn't make my size, or it was sold out, or the prices were very high. Tried looking at thrift stores, also didn't find my size.

I try not to buy too much from shein or to spend long periods of time in between buying, because again, I feel bad about buying there. I don't want to buy from there.

Clothing brands/stores gotta do better. And I don't think that's asking for too much.

#this is less polite as i usually am because i'm so fucking tired of this shit #like these brands make probably millions every year #why is it apparently too much to ask for clothes in bigger sizes????#like idk i think everyone should be able to buy clothes that fit them and look nice???#and like god i don't want anyone to come on here be um actually it's very hard for the clothing industry to be inclusive #bc this post ain't about that #this post is about how frustrating it is to find clothes when you're fat #and also don't come for me bc of where i'm buying some stuff from ok #i feel so fucking guilty every time i buy from there #and like my friends buy from shein like every other week practically #i usually buy from there every 6+ months or so #and it's usually like a dress or two #at least i know that I don't throw clothes in the trash #if there's something here or there that doesn't look amazing but it's workable i'll go to the seamstress #if it doesn't fit me at all (which is a risk that can happen with online shopping) i donate it #and i will wear clothes until i can't wear them anymore #and even when i can't wear them anymore they they are usually still in a good enough condition that i can donate it to charity #or to someone close to my family who might give it a better use #this is a very big rambling sorry about this it's just aaaaaaaaa #i probably should go sleep

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satoruxx · 1 year ago

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thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF

AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33

OK SO

it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.

the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.

well until he notices you anyway.

you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.

he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.

satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.

typical and so predictable.

some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.

and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.

but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.

suguru would probably like you too.

so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.

you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.

dammit.

"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.

"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.

"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"

satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"

realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."

satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.

you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"

he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."

the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."

satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"

you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."

satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."

your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.

honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.

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casuallyanidiot · 3 months ago

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More Yandere Nerd thoughts...

Dead Dove Do Not Eat! MDNI ! NSFW !

Tw. Dubcon/ Noncon, stalking, yandere, mansplainer supreme, voyeurism, dumbification

Yandere Nerd who stares at you every single day in class. He thinks you're so pretty and cute, and he fucks his fist to the thought of you multiple times a day. He thinks you're far too dumb to truly be on par with him, but he likes that you're just smart enough to understand the same things he does.

Yandere Nerd who loves the confused little face you make when he goes off about some niche, hard to comprehend topic that he spends far too much time researching outside of class. You're not a ditz, but he likes being the one to put you in the same place as all the other brainless, pretty faced sluts he sees prance around on campus. No, no see you've got substance, don't you? That's probably the only thing more alluring that that adorable little hole he knows you have hidden so unfairly underneath all of your clothes.

Yandere Nerd who seethes with jealousy every time you get a shred of attention from anyone else. He hopes you're not fucking someone else behind his back. If you are, he loses his mind. How could you go for someone so lackluster in comparison to him? He'd lavish you with gifts, praise and attention if you would just look his way. In fact, he'd give you a lot more than that. He'd pound into you until you were babbling, speechless, and all you had to worry about was how stuffed full of cum you were going to be by the time he was done with you.

Yandere Nerd who is so damn insufferable when he gets his hands on you. He loves the fact that he has a little cutie like you in his life, and sometimes online he'll post photos of your gaping, stretched out entrance onto some obscure forum just so he can brag about how his little fucktoy is the best one there is.

Yandere Nerd who wants to see you wearing shit from his favorite hentai. Microkinis with stockings, cat ears, bunny outfits, maid costumes, virgin killer sweaters: you name it, and he's slapping his card on the table just so he can pound you silly in it. He loves taking photos of you from lewd angles. He makes you sit down and compare the ones he takes of you now that you're "dating" versus the more rushed, unflattering ones he got while sneaking cameras into your old room. He also makes you masturbate to your own pictures. His little darling has got to practice self love, you know?

Yandere nerd who tries to get you into every fandom and interest he has. He'll strap you down and keep you tied to a fucking machine for hours if you get the lore wrong for his favorite video game or book series, so you better pay attention if you don't want to get any dumber.

Yandere Nerd who makes you come up with new ways to reward him every time he accomplishes something academically.

"If I get a 98 or above on this exam, you have to cock warm me with your mouth for at least three hours while you sit on a dildo as a treat. You will do it, right? For me? Don't I deserve a treat for once?"

He doesn't even have to try all that hard to score that high, he just likes seeing you hope that he fails even though you know it's no use. Yandere Nerd is an asshole, and he totally deserved to be rejected by you before you got kidnapped, but how're you going to tell him that when you're stuck sucking on his balls?

#yandere x reader #my writing #yandere #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #x reader #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #stalker yandere #yandere nerd #yandere concept #yandere character

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thanatika · 4 months ago

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really interesting examples! i've thought of this too, but i never knew that eva example, and i'd been wondering for ages where "en-daniil" comes from.

some other examples i can think of:

caspar kain isn't a utopian, but he was raised in the founding utopian family, and his chosen name, "khan", is a pretty obvious example, being most closely associated with the founding ruler of the mongolian empire.

in maria's few conversations with the haruspex, she repeatedly calls him "olgoy". this term doesn't come up anywhere else in the game, afaik. the closest source i can find is the name for a mythical mongolian sandworm called "olgoi-khorkhoi", which is literally translated as "large intestine worm", known in english as the "mongolian death worm". so, she's probably trying to call him a worm, one of the odonghs. (though "olgoi" is actually the word for "large intestine", while "khorkhoi" would be worm, so she's doing it wrong.) she says that she's calling him that because he's agreed to gather herbs for the stamatins, as herb-gathering is typically done by the odongh (although artemy finds it disrespectful and repeatedly tells her to stop, not that he's being respectful either by exclusively referring to her as "woman" starting even earlier in the conversation). since i don't see the term appear anywhere else in the game, i'm not sure if it's genuinely supposed to be a term in the local steppe language or if she's trying to incorporate mongolian terms (which would fit with the khan example).

daniil very skeptically refers to "eastern philosophy" two times in the game: once when georgiy is telling him his views on reincarnation/immortality, and once when andrey is telling him his view on the taboo nature of bodily orifices, cutting open bodies, and the idea of special, unseen lines that the body wants to be opened by. a more general example, but it stands out to to me as an example of how even though daniil represents the utopians, he doesn't necessarily seem to agree with them much, including on their sort of orientalist infatuation. (if anything he's too far in the other direction to the point of being dismissive and offensive, though it is more dismissiveness of spiritualism and mysticism in general, rather than specific cultural beliefs.)

i do think a lot of this is what you describe as a very individualistic, cherry-picked orientalism — cultural appropriation, essentially. though to me that implies something very inorganic and intentional, and i'm not 100% sure if that's the intent of how the cultural dynamics in the town are depicted. since there is also the element of how the town's culture is described as being inextricably intertwined with the kin's, as they developed alongside each other, which is why the majority of the townspeople share a lot of superstitions and practices adopted from the kin, even if they aren't actual ingroup members. so in the case of the kains at least, at least some of their aesthetic influences might be more of an expression of the overall town's culture than a deviation from it? not that it would make the overall situation any less exploitative. plus, they are described as strange even by a lot of the townspeople...

Here's my little piece on (P1) Utopianism and orientalism/Utopian co-opting of (other) cultures (and some broadly Asian fun facts):

What's always struck me is the undercurrent of Asian aesthetic influence in P1 and one obvious reason for why it's there at all is the fact that they're bordering Mongolia and China. Many Eurasian nomads are artistically influenced by regional, cultural styles in the middle east, India, China, etc. that central and southern Asian area. But since the Kin's artistic aesthetic (in P1) reflect a utilitarianism use of leather and, broadly speaking, the Earth, where this influence appears most is with the Utopians.

Take Eva Yan, for example! I've only heard her clothes described as "strange," but the style is very reminiscent of a certain kind of dress ...

She's wearing something close to an Indian petticoat and blouse, but she's missing the saree. It might actually be what's around her neck. Indian blouses typically end above the stomach and are either long-sleeved (like what Eva's wearing) or go to the elbows. It even looks like the material might be the same, which would be silk. It seems to me that Eva Yan is doing in P1 what she's doing in P2; she's taking all of her favorite parts of a certain culture's dress and outfitting it to her tastes. Indian clothes are designed to be breathable, but Eva uses that design to look alluring. I would say that the Stamatins do the same thing in their own way; The Broken Heart's interior design and opium pipes evoke the Western-exported idea of Asian drug dens and they name their dead colleague Farkhad, based off the Persian story of Khosrow and Shirin, whether he was Persian, in the area or not - we wouldn't know.

Maria(and Eva?)'s occasional use of the honorific en-Daniil is reflective of this, too. "en" is short for "encik" and is a Malaysian convention. The reason why it's "en-Daniil" and not "en-Dankovsky" is because Malaysian names are structured like "Razak bin Osman," where the "bin" means "son of." It would be odd to call someone "Mister son of Osman," so it's either "en-Razak" or "en-Razak bin Osman."

Off the top of my head, those are the most explicit examples ... and, obviously, the Utopians all use the Kin's culture and aesthetics, too, and incorporate whatever about it interests them into their lifestyles. That aside (or not), as for why the Utopians specifically do this --- it may really be because they live in Asia. Personally, I interpret this as a very individualistic case of orientalism that expresses how Utopians seek out aesthetic beauty and concepts they find both appealing and "other" --- whether this is natural-law-breaking ideas or other cultures. I think this is a very cherry-picked kind of admiration.

#patho meta #patho #i'm also tempted to give georgiy's somewhat kaftan-like robe and maria's very ornate dress as examples #but i think they're vague enough that they could have a lot of potential inspirations #at least to me who doesn't know all that much about clothing #they certainly due stand out compared to victor's much plainer outfit! but that feels fitting as he's described as like #the more ''rational'' and ''normal'' of the kains #mine

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aperrywilliams · 15 days ago

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A Bit Rougher (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: You and Spencer have been in a relationship for a little bit more than four months now, and the team doesn't know. One day, the BAU girls ask you by your mystery partner they know you have - even if they don't know who it is - and bring up a topic you are not so sure to share with Spencer yet: your kinky side in sex. What happens when the same Spencer puts a test on you on that matter?

Word Count: 6.5k (I'm not sorry)

Warnings: SMUT/18+/MDNI. Where do I start? Reader sleeps with Spencer (obviously). Talks about sex life. Mentions of tantric sex and rough sex. Mentions of some kinks like choking, spanking, and dom-sub dynamics. Clothes get ripped, Spencer calling you 'my girl' (oh God), masturbation (f receiving), fingering, kind of choking, dirty talk. Spencer does his best as a dom (soft!dom because it can't be any other way), penetrative sex, spanking, begging, more dirty talk, creampie (it really doesn't exist another word for this?), and aftercare. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world. If I forgot something, please let me know.

A/N: This one was a request. I can't find the original message, and I don't know if the person who asked wanted their name here (I can quickly add it if they want to).

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The moment rays of sunlight peek through the curtain and hit my face, I turn to my back to avoid them, not ready to fully start the day yet.

Still half awake, half sleepy, I can feel a pair of hazel looking at me. I peek one eye open, and I see Spencer smiling at me.

"Good morning, beautiful," he rasps. And I don't know why such simple words have me blushing like a schoolgirl. Beaming, I return the greeting.

"Morning, handsome."

I get my reply with a lingering kiss on my lips, which I fully savored until a sudden thought came to me.

"What time is it? We need to get up."

Spencer, with his calm voice, shakes his head.

"It's a bit early yet. We have time. Also, you have some clothes here, so you don't need to go to your apartment before driving to work."

Smart me for bringing clothes to his apartment. It's an obvious decision, though, considering I have spent more nights here in the past weeks than in my place.

A devilish smirk makes an appearance on my face.

"So, we do have time, don't we?"

"Yes, sweetheart. We do," Spencer mumbles, scooting closer and peppering kisses on my face and then down to my collarbone.

Oh boy, this is what I call a good way to start the day.

How much time can you fool a bunch of the best profilers in the country, hiding your relationship with one of your coworkers? Spencer and I keep the count. The mark is set now in four months and two weeks.

It's not that we are embarrassed by what we have or anything close to that. It's just that things started so casually and naturally, and they're running so smoothly, so we want to keep it to ourselves as long as we can.

And by now? It's working.

We have also been careful about it. On our first nights together, we woke up early and went home for a shower and a change of clothes. After some weeks, we started to pack extra in our go-bag. Now, we have at least a change of clothes in each other's places. The second rule is never to get to work at the same time or on the same transportation. Spencer usually takes the metro even if I can drive and make time in the parking lot. Just one day, we did it, and we were so worked up in our making out session that we almost got caught by Morgan, who parked two cars away from mine.

Naturally, any form of PDA at work is completely off-limits. That's the toughest rule to follow. After all, we spend more time at the office and on the road than we do at home, so avoiding any kind of touch is definitely a challenge.

Despite all that, I can't help but feel happier every day as I fall deeper for Spencer. I often feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, constantly distracted by thoughts of him. Clearly, my behavior hasn't gone unnoticed, at least not by the three girls cornering me right now in the BAU kitchen.

"So, are you going to deny you're having fun these days?" Emily teases me while JJ and Penelope giggle in agreement.

"Where did that come from?" I say, intentionally diverting my gaze to the mug I'm filling with coffee.

"It's just basic observation, my dear," Penelope chimes in.

"Basic observation? I honestly don't follow you guys at all," I reply, feeling a bit overwhelmed by this unexpected Tuesday morning interrogation. This time, JJ steps forward with her evidence laid out right before me.

"We have all noticed the changes in you over the past few months—the giddy smile that lights up your face when you read a text on your phone, the new pep in your step, and how you hurry home every time we finish a case. Do I need to say more?"

"Busted!" Garcia points a mocking finger at me. I roll my eyes in fake annoyance. After all, they are completely right.

"Okay, okay. Yeah. I'm seeing a guy. Happy?" I confess, and Garcia squeals.

"Yay! We need to know everything about him."

Oh. That's dangerous territory.

JJ notices my discomfort and tries to ease it a bit.

"Penelope, I'm sure we'll know more with time. Right?" JJ looks at me, and I nod appreciatively.

"Okay. But the basics. Is the guy good?" Emily asks. A silly smile appears on my face.

"Of course he is. He's caring, fun, always attentive-" I'm about to start a rant about how my mystery man is perfect. But Emily's snort stops me at mid-sentence.

"What?"

"Emily is asking if he is good in bed!" Penelope clarifies, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Oh, Lord. What have I got into?

"Are you really expecting me to tell you about my sex life?"

The three girls nod in unison with no shame. Well, I guess I got my answer.

"Like if you haven't done it before. And for what it is worth, we all have said something about it more than once. That's why we created girls's night in the first place," Emily points eloquently, as always.

Touchè. They are right. I have said more than I would like to admit about my sex life. But now it's not that simple. We are talking about Spencer, even if they don't know it yet.

"Then? Is he good or not?"

I contemplate my answer not because I don't know what to say but not revealing more than necessary.

"I don't think good is enough to describe sex with him. The first time we slept together was amazing. The whole night was if you know what I mean. Since then, we have taken our time, savoring the moment, giving, and receiving a new part of ourselves when we do it. So, yes, sex with him is more than good."

"But it could be better," Garcia interjects, and I look at her baffled.

"How's so? Didn't I just say the sex is great?"

The three women nod in agreement, but I think I'm missing something here.

"Don't take it the wrong way, my lovely. We are really happy you are having fun and enjoying yourself," Garcia says, patting my shoulder. "But it sounds pretty vanilla to me. And it's not bad! Not at all!"

I frown, and Emily rolls her eyes, continuing Garcia's idea.

"What Penelope tries to bring here is what we talked back then about your last partner. Remember? The one who liked tantric sex?"

Oh. Yeah. I remember that one. It's not one of my finest choices, if I have to be honest. But it wasn't the guy's fault.

"Yeah. What about him?"

"You forgot how you complained about him being basically a statue? That you wanted it rough, and the guy never got the memo?" Penelope fills in, arching an eyebrow. My cheeks are flush crimson right now.

"I can't believe we are talking about this in the office kitchen," I mumble, embarrassed. "But that was different."

Emily scoffs. "What? Did you change your kinks now? What happened with the choking, the spanking, the begging, and all those things?"

"Emily Prentiss, can you please shut up? This conversation is too much for a morning in the office," I complain, shaking my head to try to cool my red face.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. But if you are still into it - and I'm sure you are - maybe it's a good idea to share it with your partner. Healthy sex life and all that, so it doesn't happen what it did with the tantric guy."

"Well, thank you all for your concern. But I think I'm good. Now, can we please drop the subject?"

Luckily for me, the girls listened and changed the topic. By the time we leave the kitchen, I feel less embarrassed and ready to continue my paperwork.

But the conversation kept popping into my head from time to time during the day. My sexual preferences haven't changed 180 degrees, that's true, but with Spencer, it's different. I wouldn't want to bring something like that up if it's going to make him uncomfortable. Our relationship is still fresh, and I'm happy with our current sex life.

And talking about Spencer, I haven't seen him the whole morning. By the time lunchtime arrives, he doesn't come back to his desk, so I go with the girls and Morgan.

When we come back from lunch, I finally see him at his desk, concentrating on a pile of files. A smile creeps in my face. He looks so damn good with the crocked tie, messy hair, and shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms. This man has ruined me just sitting there. I'm doomed.

"Hey," I call his attention, and he turns his head to look up at me.

"Hi," he returns a smile.

"I haven't seen you around in hours. Are you okay?"

A frown appears on his face, but he brushes it off quickly.

"Me? Oh, yeah. Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's just Hotch that had me checking and analyzing a pile of boxes with folders from old cases in the store office. That's all."

It makes sense. Spencer's fast reading is a blessing and a curse, and obviously, people tend to use it often in the office.

"I'm sorry, sure it wasn't a very entertaining task."

A shy smile creeps on his lips, and I have to use all my self-control not to pounce on him right now and pepper his face with kisses.

"It's okay. I'm already done, anyway. How has been your morning?"

"Oh. Mostly paperwork. As everyone. But I think I'll be done soon, too." Before continuing, I check my surroundings to ensure nobody else is listening. "Maybe we can go home early?" I suggest seductively.

The flush in Spencer's cheeks is endearing. It's like the ones I sported this morning when the girls were interrogating me. And they want me to tell this boy about my kinks? No way. I won't do that if it means he won't feel comfortable with me again.

"We could. But I'm afraid plans will have to wait," Spencer says as his gaze shifts from me to Garcia and the quick tip-tap of her heels, heading to the conference room.

Fuck. A new case.

Don't get me wrong. I love my job. But being stuck in the middle of the desert, looking for an unsub that seems to be a ghost? And I say 'ghost' literally because we are looking for a guy who is dead for the town records. No, this is not my idea of a 'normal work day.'

It's frustrating, and not only for the lack of progress. The heat here is like hell. The AC barely works, and everyone's mood is bitchy.

We are not making any progress by now, so Hotch sends us to the hotel for the night. Once in my room, I text Spencer, not with an explicit purpose but to talk to him for a while. But he doesn't answer my texts. Is he sleeping by now? Considering he's a night owl, I found it very rare. But maybe he's drained like everyone else, so I let it slide.

In the morning, after my shower, I'm checking my phone, and I don't have any messages. Has Spencer received my texts?

I don't want to sound paranoid, but it's like something is going on. At the precinct, I barely get a hello from Spencer. Okay. Maybe it's the stress. I don't give it too much thought, either. Not when we have work to do.

And boy, we have been working hard on this one. Some clues give us hope, but we're far from catching the unsub.

In the little spare time we have between interrogations and visiting dumping sites, I try to share moments with Spencer, but it definitely seems like he doesn't want to be alone with me in the same room, even if he doesn't say it or shows signs of annoyance or animosity towards me.

I can't tell why he is so distant, but it's starting to worry me. Did I do something? And it's killing me because the more I think about it, the more I miss him. A kiss, a hug, anything from him would ease the ache I'm starting to feel.

It doesn't help that he has been choosing to wear the sexiest clothes he has in his go-bag. Those tight grey pants that accentuate his ass, those button-ups with sleeves rolled up.

We have been here for six days, and I think I'm going crazy. I have been trying to be subtle and professional. But I swear that if one more day goes by without being able to feel Spencer's touch, I don't know what I'll be able to do.

It seems heaven has listened to me because we finally managed to catch the unsub, and we're on the jet on our way home. But I'm nervous. I didn't even want to sit next to Spencer like I usually do. I don't know why. What if he wants to break up with me, and I'm just dragging things out?

What the hell am I talking about? I don't believe I'm thinking clearly here. But this week has been so odd that I don't know what to think.

Maybe when we land, I can finally talk to Spencer and put an end to my overthinking. With that in mind, I doze off for the rest of the trip.

Once the jet is down, I'm starting to gather my things when I hear Spencer rushing out, saying goodbye to everyone.

Disappointed and frustrated, I leave the tarmac.

Maybe a full night of sleep in my bed isn't a bad plan after all.

But be that as it may, fuck you, Spencer Reid.

As if all that had happened wasn't enough, when I got to the parking lot, my car fucking didn't start. I knew I had to get it checked before.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

That delayed my arrival home for another 45 minutes.

Now, disappointed, frustrated, and with no car, I slam the door shut. The apartment is pitch black, and I have no energy to flick the lights on, so I drag myself to the bedroom. When I open the door, a yelp escapes my mouth when I see a silhouette of a man sitting in the chair I have in one corner.

I'm about to reach for my gun when the bedside lamp flicks on, and the scare turns to confusion when I see Spencer sitting there.

"What the fuck!"

"Hi," he says as if he hadn't almost scared me to death two seconds ago.

"Spencer! What are you doing here?" My voice sounds harsher than I intended, but Spencer brushes it off quickly.

"Waiting for you," he says matter-of-factly.

I'm officially confused. We were together an hour ago? He left without saying anything.

"I don't understand. The way you left the jet in such a hurry, I thought I was the last person you wanted to be with."

My words come out resentful, but I can't help it. Spencer's eyes soften. I averted his gaze as I dropped my go-bag, unholst my gun to set it on the safe, and sat at the end of the bed to remove my boots.

"Hey, don't say that. Of course, I want to be with you," Spencer says, standing from the seat and kneeling to help me remove my boots.

"I'm sorry, but it didn't show that way. You avoided me all week!"

Great, now I sound like I'm making a tantrum.

From his place where he knelt on the floor, his eyes met mine, and I don't know why suddenly I felt a shudder running down my spine.

"Sweetheart, you know we were working, weren't we?"

That condescending tone escaping Spencer's lips? It is something unexpected. But why does it make me kind of nervous? It's a type of nervousness that gives me butterflies in my stomach.

"I know! But- but then in the jet. And you left."

Why am I babbling? Since when did Spencer have looked at me with those piercing eyes?

He stands and offers me a hand to help me to do the same.

"Is my girl upset?" He asks when we are both upright.

'My girl'? That's new. Spencer always calls me by my name, a short version of it, or beautiful, or sweetheart. But thinking about it, 'my girl' doesn't sound bad at all.

"No! I'm not-"

"Oh yes, you are. Look, I wanted to prepare a surprise for you tonight, so I left in a hurry. I was thinking about a bubble bath, dinner, wine, and a movie. I even had the table done with candles ready to lit," he says nonchalantly, and I feel silly for thinking the worst scenarios all week.

"Oh," is the only thing escaping my lips.

"But now, thinking about it, maybe you don't deserve it. Not if you're questioning me like this," Spencer shakes his head in fake - I hope - disappointment.

Okay. Stop right there. What the hell is going on here? Why is Spencer talking like that? About me as 'not deserving' something? What's next? That I'm a naughty girl? - Uhm, I wonder how it could be hearing those words from his lips.-

"What? Why I-"

"Come here," he requests as now he is the one who sits at the edge of the bed and pats the spot in his lap. It doesn't sound too commanding, but sure as hell, I don't need anything more to comply. I need to know where this is heading.

As I'm at Spencer's reach, he pulls me by my wrist to land on his lap while his other hand cradles my face.

"Tell me, uh? Why are you upset?"

His voice drips like honey, and I start to feel hot here.

"I- I don't know. I just missed you, I guess."

"You guess?" He arches a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes. I mean, I do know. I have missed you," I confess, defeated. Oh yeah, now I'm the needy one.

"It helps if I say I have missed you, too?" he says, caressing my cheek tenderly with his knuckles. "I have seen you tense all week; that's why I thought I could do something special for you tonight."

I close my eyes, and for the first time tonight, I let myself enjoy Spencer's embrace.

I exhale a heavy breath as I get lost in his arms.

When I open my eyes, Spencer's are fixed on mine. But his look is not as sweet or reverent as it usually is when we are like this. No, this one is dark and raw. His pupils are fully dilated, and I feel like the breath leaves my lungs.

"Spencer-" I barely mumble.

"I know," he whispers, moving one hand to cradle my neck and bring my lips to his.

Oh God, what I have been craving for days is finally happening, and I can't stress enough how happy I am.

The kiss starts slow and sensual. But not far from that, it gets needy and messy, charged with all the pent-up emotions from the past days. If I had any doubt about Spencer's distance in the last week, this kiss quickly eased my anxiety.

My fingers go to undo the buttons of his button-up, but Spencer stops me with one of his hands, grabbing both of my wrists.

Why didn't I notice before how big and strong his hands are compared to mine? I mean, I always admired his long and deftly fingers, but this? Wow. It's new territory.

"But I want to touch you," I pout when he keeps hold of my wrists in his hand. The cocky bastard raises an eyebrow, contemplating my request.

"You will have to be patient this time and earn it, darling," he says casually, and as my eyes go wide, my jaw goes slack. These words have never come out of Spencer's mouth before. But why am I suddenly starting to feel hotter and more worked up? I blame it on sex abstinence.

"Please, I have missed you so much," I insist, trying to escape his grip to get what I want: undress him. But he doesn't budge, tsking his tongue.

"I already told you. You need to earn it. To my knowledge, only good girls get what they want, and I don't think I'm wrong, do I?"

Jesus Christ! I had never heard Spencer say 'good girl' before, and I'm sure now I'll be addicted to hearing it every chance I get.

"Spencer, please. I'll do anything. I promise. I want to be a good girl. I want to be your good girl."

Spencer's smirk tells me he likes my response, and I'm not at any ounce ashamed of sounding desperate.

He maneuvers me so that I am now on my back on the mattress. I watch his every move intently, and I get lost in his gaze, which screams lust and desire.

He kneels between my spread legs, staring at me intently as his hands move to the edges of my blouse. Just when I think he's going to work on unbuttoning it, he grabs it and rips it open.

A yelp escapes my lips at the raw sound and the view of buttons flying. Spencer doesn't seem fazed by his display of caveman style. And me? I won't mind if he rips all my clothes right now. His hands go to caress my breasts over the fabric of my bra. And then pull it down to free the skin. The cool air quickly stiffens my nipples.

Spencer leans down to suck one of them, twirling the other one with his fingers. A moan escapes my lips at the pleasure his touch is giving me.

"You like that, uh?" he mumbles, still with his mouth sucking and lapping.

"Yes!" I say, as my hands fly to his hair so I can ground myself in something.

After giving enough attention to both of my nipples, he helps me to get rid of the fabric of the ruined blouse and my bra. Now his mouth is sucking a hickey under my jaw, and I feel like I can faint of how aroused I am. One of his hands goes south and stills at the button of my work pants. His breath is hot in my ear.

"I'm going to take care of you. If I do something you don't like, just say it, okay?"

That's a sliver of the Spencer I know, and I can't even think of something this man can do to me that I wouldn't like.

"Okay," I manage to blurt when his fingers work on my pants, leaving me clad only in my panties in a matter of seconds.

Under his intense gaze, I feel exposed, but I also feel safe. There is no place where I would rather be right now.

"You're gorgeous. You know that?" Spencer says, trailing feather touches on my skin aflame with desire. "You don't know what you do to me, do you? I barely can control myself," he continues his praises, thumbs toying with the waistband of my panties.

I'm about to combust.

"Spencer, please."

"What is it, my girl?" he asks, kissing my neck as his fingers slide down my legs, removing the soaked fabric that used to cover my most intimate part.

"I - I need more."

"Are you already desperate for me?"

I can feel how his fingers trace soft patterns in the skin between my thighs, explicitly avoiding the spot where I need him the most.

"Yes! I am. I - I can't-"

I don't even care if I sound coherent at this point. I'm already so turned on and desperate that I can't be bothered by my lack of speech. Spencer still doesn't budge, though.

"I know you want to beg. And I know you can do better than that."

Oh God. I don't know how Spencer's words manage to make me more aroused, but they do.

"I need you," I croak, eyes pleading him to take me. I can feel his fingers ghosting my throbbing clit.

"I need you, sir. Please. You can use me whatever you want, but please, touch me!"

What the fuck? I just called Spencer' sir' and offered my body explicitly to him to use. And the bastard doesn't even flinch? Who is this guy in full control, and who am I acting like a pathetic submissive?

I don't have the answers, but honestly, I don't care. Did he want me to beg? If this isn't begging, I don't know what it is.

"I know you do, baby. Do you think I didn't notice how needy you have been all week? How have you tried to get my attention all these days?" Spencer's voice drops almost two octaves as his finger finally starts rubbing circles on my clit.

Just feeling his touch makes me whimper pathetically.

His lips ghost in my ear, and I can feel his breath heating the spot before his teeth nibble my earlobe.

A mewl leaves my mouth, and if I wasn't soaked before - which I was - now I'm dripping.

"Tell me, this is what you wanted?" His voice is commanding but feels like honey leaking on my body.

"Yes! Please, don't stop."

His movements are deliberate and precise, and when he buries a finger into my core, I can feel the coil in the pit of my lower belly beginning to form. My moans increase in number and volume.

"So needy, my sweet girl. Like that? That's how you want me to touch you?" Spencer coo as he watches me tremble under his touch, adding a new finger to fuck me.

His ministrations continue, but his free hand moves slowly from my cheek down to my neck, caressing the exposed skin with his thumb.

"Or maybe you want me to touch you like this?"

A mewl escapes my lips when he poses his open palm over my throat, not squeezing but seizing how much of my neck he would be able to cover with his huge hand.

"Yes! Please, do it. Please Spencer," I babble, feeling my orgasm closer and closer. And he complies. Applying the minimal pressure in my throat is enough to highlight all of my senses. That, plus the way his ring and middle finger pound in and out of me and his thumb toy with my clit at the same time, sends me to the edge.

"Spencer!" I scream as my climax washes over me.

I don't remember having an orgasm like this in a long time. My vision blurs and I feel like I'm floating on a cloud of pleasure that I don't want to come down from. I can hear Spencer's encouraging words in the distance as he helps me ride my orgasm.

"That's it, my girl. You did so good for me. See how good I can make you feel?"

With hooded eyes, I see Spencer sucking clean the fingers that were fucking me seconds ago.

"You taste amazing. I'll never get tired of it," Spencer says, with a satisfied grin on his face.

Still dizzy, I gesture for him to come closer. When he does, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for the most passionate kiss my current post-orgasmic state will allow. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it is like my sex drive reminds me I want more. I need more.

"Please, fuck me," I mumble between kisses, and I can feel the smirk forming on his lips.

"I just did that," he states when we part from the kiss. "Are you being ungrateful?" Is he joking? I hope he does, but I won't take the chance of not having his dick in me tonight.

"No, baby. I'm thankful for the way you have touched me tonight, but I want you to feel good, too."

Spencer looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that so? Are you willing to do what I want to make me feel good? It's not only for your benefict?"

"Yes! Whatever you want. I'm yours. Take me the way you want to do it. Whatever you want to give me."

I don't know at what moment I became this kind of submissive, but if I have to beg again to have Spencer inside me, I will do it without complaining. And considering he's still fully clothed, I don't know what kind of plan he has right now.

"On your elbows and knees."

It's simple, and the moment the words leave his mouth, I move quickly to obey.

Unfortunately, from this position, I can't see Spencer, but I can hear him undressing. When I listen to him undoing his belt buckle, I have to do everything in my power not to rub my thighs together in search of some friction. And Spencer notices.

"I can bet you're dripping again. Don't you?"

The anticipation is killing me. When I feel the mattress dip with Spencer's weight, I can't stop the mewl that leaves my lips. It doesn't help when he presses his body to mine, and I can feel his hard cock pressing my ass.

"Can you feel what you do to me? I want to fuck you so bad. I want to ruin this pussy." Spencer's voice is husky and low, almost predatory, and I can't wait to feel him.

While we've used dirty talk before, I think this is the first time I can feel it coming naturally from Spencer. I'm usually the one with the filthy mouth.

When I feel his tip teasing my entrance, I instinctively push my ass back, gaining a laugh from Spencer.

"Be patient, once inside there is no coming back." Before I can say anything in reply, I feel him push his cock between my folds, and the stretching is painfully delicious.

"Oh, fuck!" I yelp as I hear Spencer hissing when he bottoms it out. He is still there, grabbing my hips to keep me from moving.

"So warm. So tight. Made for me," he mumbles, leaning to kiss my shoulder blades.

"Just for you, it was made for you," I agree, in a new state of pleasure and urging him to move. Spencer pulls back almost completely, only to thrust hard again, setting a slow but deep pace.

"That's my girl, taking everything I give her. You wanted this, didn't you? I know you do. Fuck! So good for me."

Another thing I'm not used to is Spencer being a talker during sex. I mean, yeah, he's very vocal, moaning, whining, cursing, and so am I, but his words are now taking me there faster than I expected.

"Spencer, yes! Don't stop, please!"

"I won't, baby, I won't. Not when this pussy tighen me like this."

His pace quickens, and in the room, you can only hear the sinful sounds of skin hitting skin, our moans, and the dirty words escaping Spencer's mouth.

"Spencer, please, harder," I beg to him. I don't know why, but I want to go to my limit, and I trust Spencer. I need it. He's quick to deliver, and with every thrust, I'm entering into a new space of ecstasy.

He is pounding me harder, and my broken moans are testimony to the brutal pace he leads. I can feel him hitting in all the right places.

"Like that?" He asks, panting in my ear.

"Y-yes."

"I can't hear you, darling," the bastard demands, not faltering his thrusts.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! Like that! Oh, fuck-"

My voice cracks when I feel a sharp smack in my ass.

And I can't stress enough how good it feels and how it helps the ball forming in my lower belly to grow.

"What a sight. You should see how my fingers are red imprinted on your skin," Spencer says, amazed with his doing, not ever slowing his thrusts, and I can feel closer to a new earth-shattering orgasm.

"We need to even the score, right baby?" I can't even catch what he's talking about when I feel a new smack in my other ass-cheek. And then I lose it. I'm teetering to my end, and I need Spencer to fall with me.

"Spencer, I'm so close. Please, I need-"

"Are you going to come? That's what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yes! I need to cum, please-"

"I'm right there with you, my girl. Come on, cum on my cock. Show me how you fall apart because of me."

And I did. My orgasm crashes me like a freight train, screaming Spencer's name once and again until my throat goes dry. He keeps his pace, chasing his own end, and after three deep thrusts, he stills, and I feel him spilling inside of me, grunting as he does so. The feeling almost makes me cum again.

We stay in that position for a few moments, him inside me and trying to catch our breath. I feel like I'm out of this world, savoring the post-orgasmic euphoria of the best sex of my life.

Spencer pulls out, and I hiss at the loss of him. Carefully, he helps me turn over and lie down to rest my back on the mattress. I close my eyes, regulating my breathing, content and completely satisfied.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks me, but I'm still lost in the haze of pleasure. I can barely acknowledge the moment he goes to the bathroom to bring a warm cloth to clean me up.

"Uh? Yeah. Amazing." My words escape before I can process them, but I'm not lying. And I can feel the tons of endorphins running in my brain right now.

"Are you sure?" Spencer checks again. And because I'm more alert now, I can see his worried eyes.

A tired smile forms on my lips as I turn to the side and bring a hand to his cheek.

This man just has fucked me senseless, and now he sees me with those panicked eyes as if he had broken me. And maybe he did, but in the best way possible.

"I'm fine, Spencer. I'm more than fine, actually. That was something else," I confess, caressing his jaw. He lets out a breath of relief, and his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"So you liked it?"

"Liked it? Did you just forget how I was screaming your name just minutes ago?" A satisfied chuckle escapes Spencer's lips. "But I need to know something," I prompt, propping myself on one elbow to have a better view of Spencer's face.

"What is it?"

"Where did this idea come from? It's not like you woke up one day and said, 'Next time, I'm going to choke her and spank her,' right?"

"Well, yeah. It wasn't that kind of spontaneous idea, even though I have thought about it before," Spencer looks at me sheepishly.

"Yeah? Well, then?"

"I heard you. Talking with the girls the other day at the BAU's kitchen." I narrow my eyes, trying to pinpoint the exact moment, and when recognition washes over me, my entire face flushes.

"Oh, God."

"I know I did wrong. It wasn't a conversation for me to hear, but you were talking about your mystery man, and I - I don't know, curiosity got the best of me."

Spencer looks apologetic, and I feel kind of embarrassed right now. It's funny for two people that minutes ago were fucking like there is no tomorrow.

"Don't apologize. It's my fault for spilling those kind of things in the office kitchen." Wait a minute. "From what part you heard?" Spencer purses his lips in thought.

"The part when you admitted seeing someone."

"So you heard when I said I was happy with our sex life, right?" He nods. "Why did you feel compelled to try something different, then? I'm not complaining at all, but I don't want you to feel obligated to do something because of me."

Spencer shakes his head. "I don't feel obligated. I wanted to. But can I ask why you didn't tell me what you liked before?"

That's a valid question, and I don't want to make him feel like I don't trust him because it is not like that.

"It's just- I mean, I love what we have. And I'm falling for you even more each day. I don't want to lose that, and I thought maybe I would have made you uncomfortable saying those things. I didn't want that."

Spencer's eyes glisten with warm understanding. How could I have doubted that he would comprehend? One of his hands goes to push back a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I love what we have, too. And you won't lose this or me if you share those things with me. I know I'm not the best example of a sharing person, but I'm learning to do that with you. And I want you to be happy and satisfied in this relationship."

"I really am. Seriously!" I quickly reply. God forbid Spencer from thinking I'm not happy and satisfied because it's far from the truth.

"And I'm happy to hear that. But there is no harm in experiencing new things, right?" He says, caressing my cheek.

"You really mean it?" Spencer nods and chuckles.

"It's not an altruistic offer, you know? I pretty much enjoyed what we did tonight." Only remembering what we did minutes ago brings a wide grin to my face.

"Sure you did. Okay. We can keep trying things. One condition, though."

"Name it," Spencer states, opening his arm for me to scoot closer to his side, which I happily do.

"I want you to choose the next kink to explore," I request, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction.

With narrowed eyes, Spencer is contemplating his answer. After a few seconds, his lips turn into a mischievous smirk, and he looks back at me.

"Have you heard about temperature play?" he asks, and I immediately bit my lower lip in excitement.

What can I say? This man is full of surprises, and I'm the lucky one who will experience all of them. I can't wait.

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid smut #a bit rougher #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid fluff

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enderlovez · 1 month ago

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No Germs Found

Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: You and the team are back in Arizona on another case, and when an amazing unfortunate mishap takes place at the front desk, everyone is forced to share rooms with each other.

Content Warning: non-sexual nudity, strong language in reference to the temperature, blushy Spence, mentions of heat stroke, pain from the heat, mentions of murder, slightly NSFW at the end, Spencer likes boobs- I MEAN WHO SAID THAT?

A/N This is kind of a continuation of another one of my works called Germs, but they don't necessarily need to be read side by side. There's only one mention of something that happened in the first part, and it's not really that important to the story, so...

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

None of you really anticipated being on another case so soon, at least not in the same place you'd just gotten home from a few days before, and the place you all seemed to... strongly dislike.

Maybe 'dislike' isn't the right word, but one thing is for sure — the moment you step foot off the jet, you feel like you're covered from head to toe in sweat, and your throat dried up like a fish in a desert.

Not to mention how you' were all stuck in a stuffy room all day, with crappy air conditioning that did absolutely nothing for anyone. So far you had practically nothing on the unsub, they were slippery as soap, and that stress — the stress of not knowing who they are, who they are going to kill next — has you in a very grumpy mood.

And despite the inconveniences, the day still somehow finds a way to get worse.

That much is clear as Hotch strolls up to our group of people with an annoyed look on his face — granted he almost always looks like that when we're having a hard time finding anything on the unsub.

"There was a malfunction in their system, and they overbooked their rooms," he says simply, only earning a choir of groans from us, "so we're going to have to double up tonight."

You throw your head back, a heavy sigh escaping your mouth. It's been a long day, and all you want is to lay around without your clothes on and go to sleep — but you can't exactly do that with someone else in there with you.

"You're free to pick your roommate yourself, but please, for the love of God, keep it professional," he finishes as he drops a small pile of numbered keys onto the little table in the reception.

Everyone immediately splits off into pairs, while you make no move to do anything, laying back on the armchair with your neck bent over the top, eyes closed against the white fluorescent lights.

"You know, frequent hyperextension of the neck can have negative effects on its structure and function," a familiar voice says from above you. "Around fifteen to twenty-five percent of North Americans experience lasting effects, such as chronic pain and nerve issues."

You peel your eyes open to find none other than the brilliant Spencer Reid standing over your head, dangling a key over your face, and just like that, all your apprehension melts away.

"Stop flirting with me, Spencer, it's incredibly unprofessional," you joke lightheartedly, a vibrant smile overtaking your face as you pluck the key from his fingers.

He doesn't seem to realize you're joking, though, because he immediately goes to defend himself, stuttering adorably and blushing firetruck red. "No, um, I wasn't — I would never flirt with you!" he tries to defend himself, only realizing a second later how it might've come off. "I-I mean I would, but that's not what I was trying to do."

You shake your head and laugh, standing from the armchair and threading your arm through his so you can lead him down the hallway towards the room you both would be staying in.

The room that was, technically, booked for only one person.

The room that only has one bed.

It's not like you don't want to share a bed with him, you're more worried that he might not want it, with his whole 'germ' thing. Not that he really seemed to care about that the other day, when he drank straight from your water bottle without a care in the world, then proceeded to ask you out on a date.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you'd like," he offers quietly as he shuts the door behind him.

You immediately dismiss that idea, shaking your head before the words are even fully out of his mouth. "You're not sleeping on the floor, Spencer, that's not fair," you say quickly, a sly smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "That is, as long as you're alright with me sleeping in my underwear, because I will be doing that."

Of course you're half-joking — if there's any indication that he's uncomfortable with that idea you'll just sleep in a t-shirt and shorts, it's just that you'd much rather not in this heat.

"N-no, no," he says, his voice pitched just a little too high. He's blushing from head to toe, you know that without even looking at him. "You can s-sleep in whatever you want to, I don't mind."

It's entirely unprofessional, you know that, but you really can't help it as you instantly begin tearing your sweat-drenched clothes from your body, tossing them around haphazardly until you're left in only your bra and underwear. You don't waste another second, flopping onto the bed, briefly stretching your limbs out, then rolling to one side.

It's a relief to be out of those clothes...

Only now do you realize that Spencer has not moved an inch from were he was standing when you initially asked the question, face bright red, breathing uneven as he tries desperately to keep his eyes from dipping from your face.

"Come on, I don't bite," you say quietly, patting the empty space on the other side of the bed, meanly deciding it would be funny to tease him, "not unless you ask very nicely."

Nervously, he drops his stuff beside the door and makes his way towards the bed, siting on the edge of his side. You're sure you can see him sneaking glances down at your chest every now and then, when he thinks you're not paying attention.

Who is he kidding? You're always paying attention to him, clinging onto every word he says like you'll die if you forget a single one.

"Come on, Spencer," you urge, "you've literally shared spit with me, don't get all shy now."

You're phrasing it that way as a joke, and you're sure he knows that.

But the next words that come out of his mouth leave you stunned, mouth dropped open and butterflies stampeding through your stomach, heart beating a million miles an hour.

You're not expecting something like this to come out of his mouth, really, but after his strange confidence the other day in drinking all your water and asking you out, you're not sure what to expect now.

"Can you please bite me, then?"

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x bau reader #enderlovez

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solelifauna · 3 months ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 1)

TW: Mentions/allusions to cannibalism, death, and violence.

Three years had passed since that fateful day and your life had only gotten more miserable. Whatever hopes you had for being a part of a family were thwarted as soon as you stepped foot in the household. Bruce doesn't care about you, Dick was straight up mean, Jason (as the pack protector) was aggressive, Tim found you annoying, and Damien simply loathed your existence and would join Dick with his cruelty.

Both Stephanie and Barbara were civil with you, but neither really cared about what you did. Cassandra was nice, sometimes signing to you and giving you scented clothing, but she still didn't really go out of her way to engage with you. The only person who you felt truly cared about you was Alfred.

The first two years you tried your hardest to fit in and get the others to like you. You did whatever they wanted, made sure to learn their interests so you could talk to them, never complained, and made sure to respect the pack's boundaries.

You hoped that eventually, you’d all move past this hurdle and soon you would get along and be allowed in the pack den and other pack activities. Unfortunately, you realized that you would never be considered part of the family or the pack. Which as heartbreaking as it was, was the least of your worries.

You see, there was an ancient custom in werewolf culture concerning new pack members and pack initiation. When a new werewolf is introduced to a pack and their territory, the new werewolf has a certain amount of time to be accepted into the pack; if they’re not, well, they're killed and eaten.

Yeah… quite terrifying and barbaric if you think about it, but mostly only the old lineages still continue this practice. Which is why you’re absolutely fucked. See, typically when children come to a pack they get accepted immediately, pups were (usually) considered precious.

In your case, being a half-blood severely reduced your chances and well, you guessed the Wayne family just didn't like you. Which sucks because you only have until your 18th birthday to get them to accept you, and considering your 16th birthday was coming up, your time was coming to a close.

Or, you could always just run away. Hey! It was an option, one that you weren't sure the Bats would even let happen. Still it was worth a try. Which leads to your current situation in Bruce's office; you were trying to cut your losses a little early.

~~~~~~

“Look, I just feel as though this is the best course of action for your pack’s and my own safety.” Came your exasperated and desperate voice.

“Safety?” Bruce questions, causally flipping through some Wayne Industries documents, as if he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about.

“Considering Damian’s tried to kill me five times, two of his attempts almost being successful, and Jason's pit aggression that has him ready to rip my throat out, you can see why someone would feel unsafe.” You state, voice raising slightly in pitch.

He hummed noncommittally, his eyes still focusing on whatever paperwork he was going over.

“I'll think about it.” He replies, still disinterested.

“There’s nothing to think about! I should be allowed to leave if I want to, and if anything I'll finally be out of your pack's way.” You say, finally letting your frustration show through.

Why couldn't he just let you leave? Did he seriously want to keep you here just to kill– sorry, eat you in another two years?

“Excuse me?” He finally looks up from his work, his blue eyes meeting yours. He was unimpressed, you could tell that much at least, coupled with a dark look of simmering anger.

Okay, so maybe you should tone it down a notch.

“Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know me being here is simply a public formality, good fluff bits for the press y'know. But I'm not part of your family, and I'm certainly not part of your pack. You and the others have made that very clear. So please, allow me to do us both a favor and get out of your way.” You add.

“Where would you go?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

“Where would you go?” Bruce repeats again.

“That–that is honestly none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? Aren't I entitled to know where my kid is?”

“No, you’re not. Sure you're biologically considered my father, but we all know I'm not really considered your kid.”

“Is that what you think?” He questions.

“Am I supposed to think any differently?”

“You carry the Wayne surname do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then you belong to the Waynes. To me. Which means that I decide what happens to you.”

There was the familiar darkness that you saw pooling in Bruce’s eyes, the type that left the Joker a tortured mess, the type that disemboweled Ra’s Al Ghul, the type of darkness that reminded you that Batman doesn’t kill. Oh no, he maims and tortures instead.

You unconsciously take a careful step back.

Bruce’s stare felt like ice, and his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with an authority that was absolute. You wanted to argue, to say something, but every instinct in your body screamed for caution. There was a darkness in his gaze that you had seen glimpses of before, but never directed at you, and now it was there, unblinking, cutting through any hope you’d harbored for mercy or understanding.

Your heart hammered, yet you forced yourself to stand straighter, swallowing down the instinctive fear.

“With all due respect,” you began, your voice smaller than you intended but steady, “staying here for another two years just for you all to—to follow through with that—custom, doesn’t seem fair.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t soften, but his posture shifted slightly, his gaze piercing through you like he could see every thought you tried to hide.

“Belonging is earned. It isn’t granted because of blood,” he stated coldly. “If you truly wish to belong somewhere, you work for it.”

“I’ve tried,” you said, voice thick with frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve followed your rules, I tried with everyone, and stayed out of everyone’s way. But nothing I do is good enough.”

“You assume that acceptance is given on your terms,” he replied, voice as controlled as ever. “Pack structure doesn’t bend to anyone’s whims. Least of all a half-blood who hasn’t proven their loyalty.”

The words stung, tearing open a wound that you thought had scarred over. You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp ache of your own nails digging into your palms. “And what exactly does proving myself look like here? Surviving Damian’s attacks? Letting Jason rip me apart every chance he gets?”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low, cutting through any retort you’d planned.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to take another step back from his desk. Challenging him wouldn’t help. He’d already decided where you stood, and nothing you said would change that. Maybe it was better to save your energy, conserve your strength for the day you’d finally slip away.

“Understood,” you said, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. “If that’s how it is, then I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

But you’d still leave when the time comes.

Bruce’s gaze hardened, like he knew what you were thinking. “Your place is here until I decide otherwise,” he said, a finality in his tone that told you any further argument would only worsen things.

He dismissed you with a look, returning to his papers as if the conversation were over, as if you were no longer there. Every step you took out of the office felt heavier, like the manor itself was holding you down, binding you to this place that was never truly a home.

As you closed the door behind you, the cold emptiness of the hallway wrapped around you, and you knew then—you were on your own. If you were to survive this, it would be on your own terms.

It's like clockwork when Alfred calls you down for dinner. The same time, the same routine.

You show up to dinner, hands still shaking and mind still reeling from your disturbingly cryptic conversation with Bruce. But, never mind that you’d just eat quietly and leave like you always do. You moved to your normal seat only to find that all the chairs near the end of the table had disappeared. What the actual fuck. Was this some type of powerplay? Something to imply that you didn’t even have a seat at their table anymore?

You mean, you wouldn't mind eating in the safety and comfort of your own room. With an exasperated sigh, which had a couple of heads turn their attention to you, you grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up with food. You were about to head back to your room when you heard an outraged growl from behind you.

The kind of growl that had you tensing, ready to submit and roll onto your back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jason growled out from behind you.

You freeze.

“To my room?” You responded meekly, curling in on yourself as much as you could.

“And pray tell, why do you think that’d be acceptable?”

“Uh–um, ‘cause my seats’ gone?”

Jason only smirked, the feral kind that almost always promised pain to his enemies.

“Oh, but your chair isn't gone, it's right here.” Jason says pointing to a chair right near the head of the table.

You blanked. That's not right. Only pack was allowed that close to the head of the table, where Bruce sat, where the pack leader sat.

“B-But, I can’t–”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?”

You shook your head no, swallowing down a whimper that almost escaped your lungs.

“Then sit your ass down,” Jason growled.

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Immediately you shakily sat down in your new seat, on the left side of Bruce’s seat at the head of the table with Jason sitting at your left shoulder and Dick across from you. Not good, not good at all. You could feel the acidic, green gaze of Jason burning into the side of your face whilst Dick languidly sipped his wine, a sickeningly sweet smile (with way too many teeth to be considered anything but malicious), plastered on his face as he stared at the new seating chart. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your heart rate back to normal; you were so gonna die tonight.

Thankfully, Bruce arrived and sat himself in his seat at the head of the table; right next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on getting air in your lungs and slowing your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Bruce shot a knowing stare at the rest of the table. As much as you tried to conceal it, they could all hear your rapidly fluttering heartbeat and your poorly hidden breathing. Tim and Jason both watched you amused; you looked so darn pathetic, sitting there trembling like a leaf.

You glanced down at your plate, picking at the food without really tasting it, hoping that staying silent would help you melt into the background.

Bruce, however, remained still and silent, his presence looming over you, radiating the authority that seemed to keep everyone else in check. But even that felt like a facade; the way his gaze lingered on you for a split second too long told you he was watching closely, assessing.

You forced yourself to take a bite, trying to steady your hands enough to appear somewhat composed. But the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears, loud and unrelenting, as if amplifying the anxiety that twisted in your gut. They could hear it too; you knew that much from the way Jason’s smirk deepened, from the way Tim’s lips twitched with barely-contained laughter.

As the dinner dragged on, every clink of a fork, every quiet murmur, felt like it was directed at you. The food turned to ash in your mouth, each bite only reminding you of the eyes trained on you, dissecting you with every chew and every breath.

The rest of the dinner passed in strained silence, every second an endurance test as you forced yourself to stay seated, to keep your head down. When Bruce finally pushed his chair back and dismissed everyone, the wave of relief was almost enough to make you lightheaded. Quick as a whip, you practically ran up the stairs towards the safety and solace of your room.

When you make it, the locks on your door are immediately fastened (not that it would do much if anyone wanted to actually force their way in). You exhale in relief as you try to collect your thoughts. Fuck, everything was going to shit; the worst part being you had school tomorrow (which thankfully you did not go to Gotham Prep; you'd kill yourself if you did). You groaned at the thought, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to relieve the ache shooting through them.

Looks like another night of shitty sleep.

Taglist!!: @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @the-rouge-robin, @confused-they

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deconstructthesoup · 6 months ago

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One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives analysis #costume design #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #jenny green #esther finch #the night nurse #tragic mick #monty finch #the cat king

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palskippah · 3 months ago

Text

Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)

There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D

By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭

-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:

(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)

-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:

Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)

1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that

-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(

(it doesn't)

>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(

>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.

So-

Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(

-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.

(my incredible math skills in the next point)

>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)

>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')

>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.

-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).

>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)

>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead

(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)

(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)

-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.

>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.

-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.

>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)

-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.

>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad

-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.

-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):

-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc

>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.

>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.

>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.

Translation

Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)

-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c

>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.

>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands

>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy

-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.

(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)

>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)

>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.

They're like-

Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…

And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd

>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.

Translations

1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA

>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.

>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.

>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)

>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)

>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.

-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).

>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.

>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[

>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.

>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.

>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd

-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)

Translation

1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-

>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)

-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.

(Drawings based over this)

Translation

1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)

-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)

(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)

>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd

>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)

En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW

-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.

(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)

>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.

>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.

>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.

>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)

>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)

>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.

>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.

>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.

I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy

>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.

-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.

>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)

-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.

-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd

>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??

>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)

>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.

And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj

I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #my art #mpreg #i love them so much #giving Ballister the biggest honor I can as an artist -> making him pregnant #that's what he gets for being my favorite #se pone bien papi chulo #I reached the image limit again pipipi #they should let me put 238493 images not just 30 #also notice that bathroom I drew that barely looks like a bathroom jsdsd #apologies I was too lazy to look for references pipipi

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