#everyone loves comics until they have to make one

[cassiopia-myopia]

Pricefield Break-Up

*Disclaimer that I’m not saying that DE went about Pricefield the right way*

*And also that’s its very unorganised*

I’ve been seeing people talking about the comics and alternate timelines in relation to the Pricefield Break-Up, and I wish I could remember where I saw it but, but I remember I read someone talk about how in the comics, Pricefield were apart for 2 years before they got back together and it’s likely why they get to have a healthy relationship. So I wanna put my take on it out there.

Firstly, I think they probably got very codependent. I think Max used Chloe as a crutch, and that Chloe likely let her out of a sense of debtitude. I think that, while they were living out their childhood dream of traveling the country side by side, bodyguard and photographer, they lost their sense of being individuals. You can’t have a partnership when you’re a single entity.

In cases where two codependents are together, “One partner invariably becomes counter-dependent, resisting attempts at control and manipulation by emotionally and sometimes physically distancing themselves. For the “chasing” codependent, this may mirror previous relationships in which they were the pursuer, and they increase their focus on their codependent object, attempting to compel and commit them. Life becomes extremely perplexing for the counter-dependent. They are not used to being chased, and while it may boost self-esteem in the beginning, it is not sustainable in the long run. So the tug-of-war continues, with neither party willing to confront the issues at hand, leaving the relationship in doubt and the participants exhausted.”

https://freefromcodependency.com/2022/09/05/two-codependents-together-could-it-ever-work/

I think Chloe’s biggest fear used to be being abandoned. Her father, Max, her mother, her teachers, Rachel. Everyone she’s ever loved or admired has left her in the dust. At the end of LiS1, she’s so passively suicidal that she’d rather just die and get it over with, let the world move on without her(because it already has). She doesn’t know that Max will be haunted by her for the rest of her life. Chloe thinks, ‘Max has abandoned me before. She’s capable of abandoning me, at any moment. She’s done so much for me- she’s suffering so much for me. Maybe it would’ve been better if she’d decided to go back and stop the storm. Maybe it would’ve been better if I’d died.’ I also think that watching Max overcome every obstacle that she’s been stopped by searching for Rachel, she starts to feel like Max doesn’t need her, even as Max continuously states the opposite.

Meanwhile, Max fears rejection. Max fears the consequences of her every action. She already had before the ability to rewind time. She was always too scared to talk, because what if she says the wrong thing? She was too scared to expose her photos to the world, because what if her life’s passion, her every thought, was crap? She was too scared to keep texting Chloe, because what if she was just making it worse? It was both worse and better after everything in Arcadia. She learned that inaction had as many consequences as any action, so she started speaking up, and sending out her photos, and she started clinging to Chloe. “You have all of the time in the world,” her parents would tell her. Max learned the hard way that that’s not true; even when you have any control over it at all. She clung to Chloe like nothing else. For a time, photography was difficult for her; the one thing consistent over her life, her one passion and talent. But Chloe was there, and she was willing to support her. She loved her and forgave her and said they were destiny; that they would always be Max & Chloe. This is relieving for Max, because Chloe has always been the only one to ever make her feel like she knows what she’s doing. That’s how it was in their childhood, and she was bereft without her all the way until she found her again.

With Chloe as the counter-dependent and Max as the chaser, I do think that taking a break would be the only way for them to have a healthy relationship.

[cosqf]

nona the ninth spoilers and tw for violence and blood

nona tantrum scene :)

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 12-15

1 - 2 - day 3 - 💙free day❤️ - 4

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[intotheelliwoods]

I present to you a little timeline :)

I have been having dreams about this story since way early march and im so happy I finally have the guts to go through with it all lmaooo no matter how wild it is

"hey ell what happened to this being a hurt/comfort comic" can you pretty please trust me when I say that everything comes full circle, the hurt comfort comics will return! I just want to have some fun first!

Anyways uhh expect a time skip next update!

[todayisafridaynight]

the elderly and their matching gloves

[cherrysnax]

actually one last thing. when I was like 16-20 I thought I was soooo cool for being able to draw faces without guidelines and it’s like. Bud. Buddy. Broski. the characters eyes are so far apart you couldn’t even tell they’re on the same face

[littlestpersimmon]

Hi guys. Am sick rn, but had wanted to post this before I go and sleep.

Some of you may already know that patreon sent out an update that charges anyone using ios to subscribe to artist's patreons 30% more.

I immediately feel this impact mere hours later, and now, days later. I'm hemorrhaging patrons & have less income. It would mean the while world to me if you guys could please reblog this.

If you use the desktop version or the android app? you will not have to pay 30% more. Needless to say this decision of apple has completely fucked me over months and months to come, unless I somehow make up for my loss by other means.

My patreon is only a dollar a month!

I have around 400 exclusive artwork on it :)

I am working on uploading more art there, and more comics once I am done with my current contract as a comic artist.

I am currently partially homeless- so being alive in general is hard ;y; I wanted to focus more of my work on patreon, until this update- I only have one tier.

I am working as hard as I can, every month ♡ I am also the caretaker of three disabled people- as my dad, who used to do all the housework, is now too sick with a swollen liver that could possibly be connected to his heart problems, and my mama who has limited movement- she "died" of sepsis many years ago after giving birth to my sister, and was revived with nerve damage. I don't know the medical terms, but she was brain dead for however long, and was successfully brought back in a different hospital. She was comatose for months; this event has lead to my family losing everything in hospital bills, our car, our house (literally we became homeless) ah. But long story short, I am the only person in my family who works- as my sister is a teenager, and she is autistic with a very, very low frustration threshold, as she is also a picky eater and still going to school! I'm sorry, many of my followers already know this story by now, I have already doxxed myself multiple times trying to avert crisis after crisis, ahaha. But yes. Patreon added to my cart of Sorrows, and would love to have more folks who aren't using apple, or are using android and the web to come on over and maybe enjoy some of my private art up there. I post around 3-6 art a month, if I am lucky 7. I want to keep making art, and my patreon was what was giving me a semblance of stability until that silly update. Sorry for the long post, and I appreciate everyone helping, reblogging, saying kind words to me, praying for me. G-d bless you all, and stay safe

My patreon:

Direct tipping jar:

My print shop!

[taylor-titmouse]

hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

[bianquitasunderworld]

dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

[nazkarcito]

Saiki has a little sister au, part 3: telepathy [FULL COMIC UNDER THE CUT]

part one

part two

part four

Kuriko seems meaner because this is from kusuke's perspective, and because she deserves to be mean sometimes idk.

somewhat ooc i know, i'm good at art but writing is a whole other deal. i wanted to go in a more absurd route like the source material and the results are... mixed.

Anyways, i thought it would be fitting for kuriko to have a few tricks under her sleeve even if she doesn't have powers. at first i thought it would be cool to make her able to completely negate psychic powers, but that would be too op, plus it would make kusuo's life too easy. For her to be just smart and silly enough to find a work-around kusuo's telepathy is way funnier i think.

In a longer version of this comic i was going to explain that, yes, she just makes her internal voice so small kusuo can't hear it [everyone can do it, but it's really difficult], and that he never noticed because he thought she would just... space out sometimes and not think of anything for 30 minutes or so

thanks for the support you have given me until now! it's been ages since a drawing of mine got this much love, i love this fandom

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part Two]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[sabertoothwalrus]

here are some preliminary sketches I had done in my sketchbook for the peepaw chilchuck comic.

I wanted to follow it up with some worldbuilding thoughts I had while working on it, if that sort of thing is interesting to anyone:

- it’d take place 5ish years post-canon

- I changed almost everyone’s hair to show time had passed. Chilchuck and Kabru were the most drastic (I COULDNT STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT LONG HAIR KABRU THAT KUI DREW), Marcille grew out her bangs, Senshi’s beard is slightly shorter, and Izutsumi’s hair is mildly longer. Laios and Falin give me the impression that they’re the brand of neurodivergent that’d pick one haircut and stick to it for the rest of their lives. I almost gave Laios facial hair but idk he’s gotten over his daddy issue enough for that.

- Emertim Chils: I tried to follow both the half-foot and dwarven naming conventions for the baby, so Emer- comes from “emerald” (dwarven names are often gemstones or ore) and -tim because Chilchuck’s father’s first name was Tim :) Dwarves don’t have family names, so Emertim would take Chils, same as Flertom. Usually they’re named after their father but I didn’t wanna name a random dwarf man. thank you Chel for helping name him 🫶💕

- Initially the idea that Chilchuck would keep an entire grandchild a secret was just a joke, but it made sense when I thought about it. I wonder,, would dwarf/half-foot couples have trouble conceiving? Because if so, I’d imagine Flertom may have lost a couple pregnancies. Chilchuck is already such a private person, and I don’t think he’d feel comfortable airing his daughter’s grief like that. They wouldn’t wanna tell anyone until they were sure this baby was gonna make it.

- For the above reason, Chilchuck would absolutely spoil this kid. Not that he wouldn’t have spoiled his grandkids anyway, but I think after all that stress, he’d be extra extra doting. He’d be letting him do things he’d never DREAM of letting his own daughters do. Completely different parenting style.

- I think he’s still too prideful to take advantage of Laios being King (sidenote: is Laios even wealthy??? does a kingdom that sprung up from a previously-sunken continent even have money?? what the fuck is their economy), but like,,, if Laios offered any gifts he wouldn’t exactly say no.

- Izutsumi surprisingly really likes the baby :3 she’d like to take naps with him and he’d like her purrs and she’d have a lot of fun playing with him.

- SENSHI. meemaw mode. That kid would grow up not realizing Senshi isn’t technically one of his grandads. He is FEEEEEDING this kid.

- LAIOS DOES GET TO HOLD THE BABY!!!!!! just. eventually. They don’t actually expect a Tarrare situation LMAO they just wait until the kid is a little less fragile and a little more mobile. I think Laios would be really good with toddlers.

- Chilchuck is very thankful Emertim’s half-foot genes kick in sooner than later because he was getting too big for him to carry.

- Emertim would probably get the extended lifespan. He and Marcille would get to stay friends for a very very long time :’)

- my personal headcanon is that Chilchuck and his wife decide to split. He still loves her and it’s probably still a bit mutual, but after four years of almost no-contact, they decide their communication issues aren’t working well for their relationship. Plus, the Adventurer’s Bible says Chilchuck is renting their old house out to family, and he’d feel bad kicking them out so he and wife could move back in. They’d still be on good terms, and would be good at coordinating when to babysit.

[todayisafridaynight]

at this point i just dont know how dreaming works

[finelinefae]

tongue-tied

synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk

word count: 3.1k

contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying

a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3

. . .

“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time. 

She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves. 

Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.

“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”

Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed. 

Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another. 

Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was. 

Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter. 

It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.

A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.

When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond. 

Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk. 

Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time. 

Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday. 

Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age. 

Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade. 

“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 

“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.

“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her. 

Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?” 

Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb. 

“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.” 

“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.” 

“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to. 

Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?” 

“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.

“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.”  He thought.

Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,” 

She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.” 

So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words. 

“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter. 

“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time. 

Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise. 

They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves. 

Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn. 

“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on. 

Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.” 

“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. 

“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.

“Fine,” She sighs dramatically. 

She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book. 

Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.” 

Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.” 

Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside. 

“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.” 

He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’ 

Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.” 

Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered. 

Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time. 

It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart. 

Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad. 

They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,” 

Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement. 

“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”

“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her. 

“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily. 

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully. 

When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom. 

. . .

Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them. 

He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning. 

She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it. 

So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom. 

“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached. 

“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak. 

Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class. 

He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door. 

“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly. 

“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well. 

Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.” 

Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class. 

By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said. 

Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.

“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist. 

“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed. 

“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her. 

“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly. 

“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”

“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.

“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”

“Did you win?” Y/N asked. 

Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”

“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite. 

“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.

“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly. 

“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.” 

Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.