#just stating his motifs.

[starscreamingg]

Okay I'm so sleep deprived so pardon whatever this is but something that's got me FUCKED up about ai generated pictures songs writing is that it just fucking kills the ability to analyse for me because there's no fucking INTENTION behind it. Like why was this decision made why were these colours used what does that say about the work NOTHING because a bunch of programming took work that DID have intent and theme and purposeful choices and turned it into SLOP. Like I COULD analyse this but it doesn't MEAN anything it's EMPTY I want to EXPLODEEE

[peacerisendove]

When it comes to Bart and Kon and their association with Kansas you definitely hear sunflowers coming up a bit in writing or art, but what about the Western Meadowlark??? The state bird (which is also the state bird in 5 other states)! There's gotta be something there.

See my rambling tags then look at this.

Boy look at how fitting that is for both Kon and Bart. (Also v. fitting for Kansas and its portrayal in some media. ex. Smallville, Middle of Nowhere, Kansas (Courage the Cowardly Dog))

[jessamine-rose]

*lovingly tackles Aine*

Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽｀)

Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—

*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3

[moonsavior]

🪐 Philos Report 💫 Philosophian (Philosophers Language)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮🌟✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Philosophers, the humanoid lifeform who lived on the planet Philos, were known to speak Philosophian in many diverse dialects, experience nonverbal communication through their heightened senses and sang during their Bonding Rituals. Here are a few ways they expressed affection:

⭐ My Star (makes Xavier incredibly flustered and dizzy. Use with caution) | Tu’lipit’ossi

⭐ My Moon | Caesa Min

⭐ My Cosmos | Caesa Mile

⭐ I will fight for you | Gladiorte

⭐ I want to hug you | Mintiano

⭐ I want to kiss you | Sorrelissimo

⭐ Betrothed | Myriel

⭐ Will you marry me? | Yarropi’a nis sissimo

⭐ I am Within you | Tenut’o

(Mistaken as a literal translation, it is in fact Nonverbal. This is conveyed through the senses, specifically through hard touch and is meant to convey the endearment, "The person you see me to be is who I want to be most of all.")

⭐ You are my World | Brea Marcato

[cronencata]

My boy Karan in his DBZ verse, where he's known as Kelvaan. He wound up a lot different than usual there. To gesture at how;

Hope and ambition jutxaposed

Desperation to overcome one's limitations

Scathing envy for the power of those who destroyed you

[mechazushi]

If The Core Division Three Members Had Gaming Channels...

Kafka Hibino {A.K.A ComfyManGaming}: Mainly Shop Management Sims or just Sims in general. His most popular series and the one that let him go full time as a content creator was his Power Wash sim Story Time where he got to talk about the craziest things that happened to him in his, like, six different cleaning jobs. ( In order; Landscaper, personal maid service, High rise window washer [tied for origin for most of his craziest stories], Nuclear Power Plant Office janitor, Failed attempt at running his own power wash service, and School Janitor with a car detail side job. {Most recent/longest held job/and also tied for craziest story origin generator with Car Detail Horror stories being second). Can be convinced to play atmospheric games like Journey/Abzu/Fire Watch/Anything thought provoking or emotional.

Reno Ihchikawa{A.K.A IchyChill Breakdowns}: Whatever Windette does, but with less insults. Basically Build Breakdowns and Speedrun Tutorials. Carried with the energy of a tired Indian Math teacher trying to teach calculus to 8th graders. Is also [technically] a PNG tuber, but because he's low energy, the PNG doesn't move much.

Iharu Haruichi {A.K.A SharkBAIT}: Two Channels. One is a horror game channel, Both Indi and Triple A. The other is anything casual, but mainly sticks to Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Coral Island, that sort of thing. Fans like to call the Horror one Anxiety and the non-horror one Anti-Anxiety(Each have their own mascots and like to fight each other like Jacksepticeye and Antisepticeye). He has absolutely accidentally cross posted horror vids onto the non horror channel and vice-versa. The community like to pretend that they don't interact with the other channels and when that sort of thing happens, they pretend they've been exposed to horrors beyond comprehension. (yes, even when the horror channel gets a cutesy vid)

Mina Ashiro{ A.K.A Can(n)onGodess/Pr3ttyW1ttl3K1tty}: Also Two channels, but actively makes sure that no one knows she runs both. One is a live stream of FPS set up as no-commentary/with camera (Mainly colorful ones like Valorant). The other is also no commentary with NO camera and its Sim 3 or 4 tips-and-tricks and Minecraft Aesthetic House Build (Mod and No Mod.)

Kikrou Shinomya:{A.K.A Can_It_Doom?} A STEM major that couldn't find a use for her degree as fast as she liked, so she started a Can it Run Doom? channel as a joke, and now it's evolved into a channel where people recommend different setups like Drumset Controler on a Texas TI-84 Graphing Calculator. (Is also currently in the middle of working on a live action Tank Setup for World of Tanks as a subscriber goal.)

Hoshina Soshiro{A.K.A SwordSingerSUPREME} Any game that involves sword fighting and critiques it either Accurately or HARSHLY. Also streams his HEMA training/tournaments. It's very popular (because everyone find him hot) and has since become a bit of an eclectic channel that is split between his Gaming vids, his HEMA vids, and P.O Box unboxing vids where people send him A LOT of gifts. There's also an over an hour video of him playing Let's Hit Each Other With Fake Swords the Card Game with his older brother (who is also in HEMA.) that he made when the channel hit 5 million subscribers.

✨Bonus✨

Gen Narumi{A.K.A xXGenNarumi420Xx}: Plays anything that's currently trending, but his bread and butter is FPS or Run and Guns. (Has confessed to saying "Would" to the Ultrakill Robot.)

Okonogi Konomi{A.K.A BlossomBear}: Indi VTuber that plays exclusively Indi Puzzle games or Puzzle Platformers. Isn't a singing VTuber so much as one that can and will go in-depth on programming and what goes into a VTube model (She made hers and it has two forms : a chibi, curly white haired, anthro bear girl and a white plushi version with orange blossom motifs.) Can and has demonstrated to be an absolute GOD at Minesweeper

Minase{A.K.A MinAction}: A anime/movie/Western Animation reaction channel. Has an uncanny habit of predicting things before they should be obvious.

Hakua{A.K.A HakuaKooksXP} A cooking channel whose shtick is 1000 Ways To Prepare [Insert Food Here.]. She's still currently working her way through rice.

Haruichi Izumo {Goes by his name} Various product review channel.

Aoi Kaguragi {Also goes by his name} A very well made workout channel.

[lovecorepatton]

i hope patton is ok forever. she deserves it

[sexchanged]

apart from there being a void underneath ghostface’s mask a cool art motif, it could actually have a bigger meaning if it were true in the larger dbd lore

[abunabilfamily]

"A Life Among the Rubble"💔

My name is Mohammed Al-Anqar from Gaza. I live with my wife, Aya, and our three children: Lami (10 years old) 🧒, Nabil (8 years old) 👦, and Amir (3 years old) 👶. We were just a simple family, dreaming of a peaceful life like any other 🌿. We wanted to give our children a safe and happy childhood, a promising future. But the war shattered that dream 💔.

Our home, once filled with memories and the laughter of our children, was partially destroyed and is now uninhabitable 🏚️. We were forced to flee to the south and now live in an old, unequipped school 🏫. It offers no shelter from the cold of winter ❄️ and lacks even the basic necessities for survival. Today, my children suffer from hunger and freezing conditions, living in a state that no child should endure 😔.

Lami, only ten, doesn’t understand why she has to sleep without a warm blanket 🥶. Nabil, eight, asks me every night, "When will we go home, Dad?" 😢 And Amir, our three-year-old, endures in silence, too young to even express his hunger and cold, already weakened by malnutrition 😞.

My children face daily hardships that words can hardly describe. As winter approaches, my fear for them only grows 🌧️. We lack blankets, food, and essential needs. All I ask today is that our story reaches people’s hearts ❤️, that they can feel even a part of what my children suffer.

Any support, no matter how small, could ease their suffering and give them a glimpse of hope 🌈 for a return to the childhood they deserve. Please, share our story so that it may reach those who can help. Save these innocent children from the devastation of war 🕊️.

@prisonhannibal @heritageposts @tamamita @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mossywetlog @alecstasy @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lemoneychicken @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakent @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamaralich @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani123-blog @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @dlxxv-vetted-donations

Please friends share this post and continue to repost. Our campaign is suffering from a severe lack of donations and reaching people who could donate. We have not received enough donations for a long time. I am in dire need of your help and support for my children and family. I hope you will respond to this simple request so that I can support my children and family in light of this devastating war.🙏❤️🙏

[mellosdrawings]

The Princes

Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.

Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.

NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.

(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)

Leona

-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!

-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.

-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.

-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.

-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.

Jamil

-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.

-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.

-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.

Vil

-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.

-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.

There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.

-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.

-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.

-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.

-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.

-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.

-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.

-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.

That's all for now!

[providencehq]

Powehouse AU: aka Danny Fenton tries to be a normal college student in the midwest yet is forced to continue to be a hero in secret as ghosts won't leave him alone and soon, neither will the Justice League when he pops up as a new hero.

Additional info and art under readmore:

ANYWAYS, here is some powerhouse au information.

Danny as he grows up manages to keep the ghost situation under control to a point he isn't overly active as Phantom. He finishes highschool no problem and goes to uni over in Central City for Maths and Engineering (not an overtly big fan of the space motif and instead, I'm shoving my boy into something cooler: PLANES! He's studying specifically mechanical engineering and has plans to go to a trade school after his B.S. for A&P mechanics.)

Sam goes to Gotham State University for Ethnobotany and works in one of the unis library part time. Tucker is going to Star City College for Computer Science and a minor in archeology, he tutors part time.

Danny's main design is inspired by a combo of military and blue collar uniforms (you can also see exactly what I reference). I also couldn't decide a face mask so you get all three options.

So as Danny moves to Central City and attends uni, his rouges do sadly follow him and wreck havoc. Danny is stressed from school so he doesn't do quips as much, in fact, he's trying to get this under control as fast as possible so he can go back and study. Here's the thing, no one outside of Amityville has seen Phantom so all of the sudden what seems to be a meta? an alien? something not human? coming out and taking down rouges that, due to being ghosts, other heros struggle to contain and handle.

Speculation rises about Phantom and who he is. Danny is smart and thought this through, kinda. His costume is a modified look what he wore as a kid but he pulls in more military/uniform aspects to make it seem like he belongs to someone or some organization. That maybe somewhere in the US, an organization managed to make a hero of sorts that mimics Green Lanterns. It's just a big red herring, Danny wants them to look for someone older, probably more experienced, and a different background. Not some tired college student struggling with his studies.

Things do start to get dicey when heroes actively try to interact with him, mostly the Flash (because Central City), Superman, and the Green Lantern. Most interactions end up with Phantom not wanting to fight and fleeing or when cornered to fight, he's messy and inexperienced compared to the other heroes. He doesn't stay around and rarely even talks. It's concerning more so because the heroes aren't sure with who they're dealing with and after a few interactions, they aren't sure Phantom is on their side. Just too many questions around him.

This leads to heroes actively trying to capture and bring in Phantom. The more failed attempts that happen, the more flightly Phantom acts when they end up interrupting him capturing his rouges. They do eventually capture Phantom (thank you Superman) and that's kinda where I end on information on this AU. It's just me having fun with interactions and also designing costumes :)

ALSO DANNY IS ROMA/DIDICOY I NEED TO MENTION THAT!!! (Dick Grayson 🤝 Danny Fenton being didicoy)

[kooberryfields4ever]

lucky

hello !!!!!!! was not expecting this to get as long as it did nor did i expect the turn but what can i say i am a creature driven by self satisfaction……… :( anyways originally this was gonna be like a 1k max drabble bc i rewatched jks sleepy eepy sweetie live and he was twitching and looked so pretty that i HAD to write something domestic !!!! but i am an ANIMAL and thinking about jungkook sleepy in the morning made me feral😇 hope u enjoy!!!!!!!!

wc: 2500+

content warnings : fluff & smut below the cut, light nipple play, fingering, jungkook has a cute panty kink(?), jungkook is an unstoppable force, unprotected piv sex, gendered terms (the word “girl” is used & detailed desc of female anatomy), messy orgasm

MDNI !

You’ve been awake for ten minutes now, just watching Jungkook twitch in his slumber. It’s early morning – a little after 8:00AM – and he looks so unbelievably beautiful under the gentle sunlight flittering through the blinds. With a soft smile on your lips, your eyes trail over his eyebrows, paying attention to how they raise and drop in his unconsciousness, moving down to his relaxed jaw and the divots of his shoulder blades when your gaze lowers. The gentle rise and fall of his back as he breathes and the fist that keeps clenching and unclenching while you lay beside him makes your smile widen. Jungkook is a breath-taking sight, looking so at peace while you observe him. His muscles are softer in their unflexed state and you can’t help it when your finger finds his right triceps and paints shapes over it. His tattoos are next on your list of targets, and soon your wandering finger is tracing the inked motifs like you’re re-carving them into his skin, following the lines and curves of the patterns as if they were new to you.  

They are very much not new to you, though. You think you’ve studied them over a hundred times, committed them to memory, made them so indelible in your mind that you’re sure you could redraw them perfectly if he ever asked. You chance at moving your touch to his fingers, watching his face amusedly when you lift his hand to inspect them and he furrows his brow. The soft letters adorning the bones of his joints are met with the pad of your thumb as you stroke them adoringly, fighting the desperate urge to kiss his calloused palm when the tips of your fingers press against the rough skin. Your fingers don’t get to explore for long before he opens a single eye suspiciously, curling his fingers around your hand to stop you. 

“Good morning,” his voice is deeper, sluggish, yet gentle still through the rasp. “You having fun?” 

“I was,” you smirk, intertwining your fingers with his instinctually, “until you so rudely interrupted me.” His thumb rubs your knuckles sleepily, bringing them to his lips for a chaste kiss, turning onto his back, pulling you closer to his chest and tucking his other hand behind his head. 

“Mm, my bad.” Comes his short reply, blinking his eyes open once again to find yours. His fingers card through your hair when you sit up on your elbows, leaning against his solid frame. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip while you allow yourself to continue observing him from above now that he’s awake.  

“Do you know you twitch a lot in your sleep?” You ask, reaching over to rub some sleep from the corner of his eye. Your thumb runs over his cheek, then down to his lower lip, dragging it down playfully and watching it bounce back when you let go abruptly. He shakes his head slightly to answer your question but sits quietly, content to just let you fiddle, fondly mirroring the smile you offer him when you lean forward to press your foreheads together. “I should’ve filmed it. You almost knocked me out.” 

“Instead of leaving me in peace?” He quirks a brow, tilting his head back to press a kiss to your lips quickly before lowering it again. “I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you, even if I’m unconscious. It’s written out of my biological code.”  

You giggle, shaking your head. “As if I would’ve let you anyway, we both know I'd win in a fight.” 

Your lips chase his naturally, and he hums sweetly when you connect them again, smirking. “Is that a challenge?” He mumbles into your mouth, you feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer still before flipping you onto your back effortlessly. He continues kissing you like that. 

“Because I really beg to differ,” he ruses, trailing a hand down to the back of your thigh to hold your leg up against his hip. “Think I’d win in a heartbeat.” Another kiss. “How easy was it for me to get you like this?” His hips move against yours in a slow motion, making you very aware of a growing presence between his legs as it presses against you through all your layers of clothing. 

“You play dirty, that’s why,” you joke back, pushing your palm against his forehead. He moves away from your lips to attach his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone delicately, the same way your fingers did to him minutes ago. “Caught me off guard, that’s- that’s not fair,” the small moan that leaves you after your stutter is unintentional. Curse Jungkook and how easily your body gives in to his ministrations. You loathe the way he seems to revel in it too, snickering when he moves his hips again. 

You lean your head back against the pillows when he pushes your tank top up over your tits and you can feel his lips enclose around your nipple. It’s not a fair fight, Jungkook knows that. Knows that when his teeth brush against the darker flesh it’ll pebble against his tongue. Knows that when his hands slip down past your waist and hips, your legs will spread instinctually for him. Knows that when your fingers tangle in his hair, he’s got you.  

“Could die between your tits,” His muffled voice knocks you out of your pleasured trance, and you hum in acknowledgement. He’s resting his face between your breasts rather lovingly now, kissing the skin between them with a hand on your waist. The hand tangled in his hair falls to his nape, scratching at the baby hairs grown out from his last haircut.  

“I wouldn’t encourage you to.” 

“Couldn’t be the worst fate.” 

His response has you rolling your eyes, “No, a worse fate would be me beating you to a pulp because you thought you’d win in a wrestling match against me.” He chuckles, looking up at you and resting his chin on your chest with a soft pout. 

“Seemed to like my approach a second ago,” he murmurs, crawling back up your body to kiss you again. There’s no underlying motive behind it, he just really likes your lips on his. You give in because, despite your argumentative nature, you like his lips too. He kisses you lazily, knee slotted between your legs, half-heartedly holding his body up to stop himself from leaning all of his weight on you. Your arms drape naturally over his shoulders and around his neck to keep him there, and you can feel his smile against your lips. 

“You still hard?” His only response is the subtle grind of his hips against yours in affirmation and a slight lowering of his hand on your waist, on a slow but steady mission. 

“Should I be offended that you don’t seem to be doing anything about it?” 

“Gettin’ to it, jus’ let me kiss you.” He licks into your mouth sweetly, chasing the taste of you. Tries to pull you impossibly closer when you chuckle, spurring him on even more. He bites your lower lip, his wandering hand finally slipping past the waistband of your pyjama pants and brushing over your underwear. You can feel him smirk when he finds the small bow on the front, parting from your lips to slip your pants down to get a good look at them. They’re childish, pink and polka dotted and old; you’ve had them since before you and Jungkook even started dating but hardly wear them anymore. 

“Cute.” Is all he says, and you roll your eyes before reaching down to pull them off. He grabs your wrists, meeting your eyes sternly. “Keep ‘em on.” 

You slip your hands from his grasp, nodding hesitantly but obediently. You watch him curiously when he focuses his entire attention on your clothed pussy, entranced by it, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric to watch it cling to the shape of you, darkening with your arousal. 

“Fuck, they’re so cute, baby,” he babbles, not really even speaking directly to you, just thinking out loud, “can I fuck you with them on?” He asks sweetly, kissing your chest and keeping an eye on you as he waits for your answer. You nod, combing your fingers through his hair when he peppers more kisses across your tits as a thank you. He pushes the fabric aside slightly to gain access to your pussy with no restrictions, not hesitating to sink his middle and index fingers past your opening. He knows you’re wet enough, preening when he hears your breaths turn to soft moans. He’s so familiar with your body now that curling his fingers up against your g-spot is second nature to him. You encourage him wordlessly, watching him work while his head still rests on your chest.  

He knows you, so when you start to tighten around him and your moans turn into held breaths, he withdraws from you. You go to protest, furrowing your brow annoyedly, but he shushes you.  

“Gonna have you come on my dick, baby.” There’s a brief pause while he separates from you to push his boxers down and take your pyjamas bottoms fully off too, grunting when he strokes himself languidly above you before rubbing his tip between your dripping folds, still fascinated by the panties he made you keep on. 

“So pretty,” he coos, and for lack of better judgement, you nod. “So fuckin’ wet, love when you get like this for me. All for me.” He’s egging you on, coating himself in your arousal and pressing his forehead to yours when he sinks the mushroom tip of his cock past your opening. It’s calculated and slow, you think it’s to tease you, to prolong your frustration even longer; truthfully, it’s because Jungkook is embarrassingly close and wants to make himself last as long as he can. 

“You wore these the first time I fucked you,” he admits, sinking deeper into your walls and breathing against your lips, “all I could think about for the rest of that week was getting to fuck you again, you were so perfect.” He pulls out slowly, before pushing back in, deeper this time. You let out a half-moan, half-breath, and he repeats until he’s fully seated inside of you. 

“Wanted to fuck you with them on then, too, thought they were so cute.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Thought it was pervy, thinking your panties were cute and wanting to keep them on,” he chuckles, kissing you gently and quickening the pace of his hips to fuck you faster, “think you would’ve thought I was a creep, wouldn’t have let me. Was easier to make you think I just wanted to take my time undressing you.” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.” 

“Mm, you’re well trained now.” 

His words get him a slap at the back of his head, and he laughs with you. The amusement doesn’t last long however, and soon he’s hiding his face in your shoulder to piston his cock in and out of you. You curse under your breath, letting him grip your thigh to guide your knee to your chest, wanting to fuck you deeper. He tuts, frustrated at the fact that he can’t get as deep as he wants, and soon your knees are over his shoulders with his hands holding your hips while he fucks you vigorously. He’s grunting animalistically, his tip prodding your cervix over and over, the corona of his cock rubbing deliciously against your g-spot every time he pulls back.  

“Touch yourself.” He instructs from your shoulder. It’s gentle, you know he doesn’t mean to come across as commanding but you like it anyway. You’re quick to obey, of course, and soon you’re trailing a hand down to your own pussy to start rubbing at your clit. He wants you to finish, that much is apparent, and you assume it’s because he’s trying to hold off his own orgasm for you. It’s wordless between you when you feel the familiar band in your stomach begin to tighten, and your free hand wanders across his broad back, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades in such a contrasting way to how you were so gentle only ten minutes ago. He grunts, knows you’re close because you’re clenching around him and he can feel you holding your breath. He kisses your collarbone as silent encouragement, and a few more strokes has you coming undone around him, finally releasing your breath and pulsing around him in a way that has you nearly pushing him out. 

“Gonna come, where you want it?” He asks quietly, knows your answer but wants to hear it. You always want it inside, and Jungkook is always more than happy to oblige. 

“On my panties.” Comes your surprising reply, and Jungkook’s pupils dilate to proportions you didn’t think were physically possible. He stops moving, dropping his grip on your hips to brace his hands against the sides of your head and hold himself up above you.  

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he jokes, dipping down to kiss you fervently, picking up the pace of his hips again, “you’re so fucking perfect, you want me to come all over your panties, baby? Want me to make a mess?” 

You’re not stupid, you know as much as the next girl that if there’s anything a man likes more than coming inside, it’s staking his claim. Of course, semen washes off - but the thought of Jungkook painting your panties white even makes your stomach flip. You nod, and he doesn’t need any more persuasion before he pulls out of you and sits up in order to stroke himself, a singular goal in mind. Your panties are still tucked to the side so he can see all of you as his fist pumps his cock quickly. You observe him, his cock is still wet from your arousal and his tip is so swollen and red that you’re unsure how he lasted even this long. As expected, he doesn’t last very long, and soon thick white ropes of come are shooting from his tip and coating your pussy and the fabric of your panties. He’s shuddering, curling over on himself before collapsing beside you on the bed. 

“C’mere,” he pants out, slipping his arms around your middle and pulling you toward him, “this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” 

“Really wasn’t, I was doting on you.” 

“Feeling me up is ‘doting’ now?” 

You push him away playfully, but he keeps his grip on you, laughing when you turn around to get away from him. He pulls you back towards him and spoons you.  

“I was being cute and you made it pervy, like always.” He can hear the pout in your voice, so he mumbles something in agreement. Knows there’s no winning here when he just came all over your panties like some kind of neanderthal. He rubs his hand over your belly, kissing your shoulder blade affectionately to keep you close. Your own hands cover his, intertwining your fingers once again and snuggling sweetly into him. 

a/n 🗒️ as always tysm for reading !!! if u have anything to say pls do i love to hear from ppl and reflecting on criticism is my driving force 💆‍♀️ reqs/asks are open !!!!

[sunshine-and-kookies]

UNHINGED (m)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Summary-> The corporate recession has your company grovelling for funds.

As the relegated chief operating officer, you have to bear the brunt of seeking out an enterprising and successful shareholder who can revive your company for posterity.

As a sorry state of affairs, you're compelled to enlist the CEO of Jeon Enterprise for his help. However, The question remains.

Just how much convincing are you willing to do?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Part: 1 of 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairing: Yandere Jeongguk x Female Reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Yandere

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Warnings for both parts: Power Imbalance, Blackmailing, Manipulation, inebriation, smut, fingering, groping, penetration, some nasty stuff, light choking, a few corporate jargons, jk is a dick who is smitten with oc, jk is selfish asf, threats of violence (not against OC).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Word count: 2.1k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Disclaimer: This is a two-shot which delves into themes that may be triggering or dark in nature. It is important to note that the behaviors portrayed by Jungkook are purely fictional and do not reflect his real-life character. Reader discretion is advised. Minors are discouraged from engaging with this content. Remember, plagiarism is a serious offense.

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°

"This is unbelievable", you lament, hunched over your desk.

"How did the stocks plummet so much?"

"Miss. L/N, The stock market is a gamble." Mr. Kwon offers.

"I am aware of that Mr. Kwon. But the risks we took were calculated." You massage your temples, grumbling defensively under your breath.

The predicament at hand induced mixed emotions in you. On one hand, you were anxious. Anxious for the employees who have a family to fend for, the news headlines they'll be witnessing and the confrontation you'll need to have with the stakeholders.

On the other, less dominant hand, you felt uncannily relieved.

Ever since your company, Jubilee and Co, invested in the share market with you at the helm, you've been waiting for something to go awry.

Simply, because you couldn't fathom anything remotely auspicious happening under your leadership. Not because you didn't have faith in your capabilities. No.

It was because you've gotten the short end of the stick from life so often that you've grown accustomed to it.

And now that your trepidations have borne fruit, you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders.

Gingerly clutching the cup of coffee perched on your table, you take a sip. This was not the time to wallow in self pity.

"Mr. Kwon, prepare an excel sheet that has all the consolidated data of the company's capital. We can't afford any delays. I have to begin looking for plausible shareholders."

You could feel the soreness kicking in, as you knead the knots in your shoulder.

It was gonna be a long day.

..............................................................................................................................

You peer at your phone's self camera for the umpteenth time.

Huffing, as you rake your fingers through your hair. Everything about your outfit seemed off but scrounging for a better one would take an eternity. You were living on borrowed time as it is.

"Miss. Y/N L/N, Mr. Jeon is ready for you."

You stand upright, hands clenching the portfolio in your hand futilely, your heels scuffing across the floor of the hallway.

Navigating through the huge corridor, you spot the door of the room where the incumbent CEO sits.

Knocking lightly, you speak "Mr Jeon?"

"Come in."

His husky voice beckons.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you step into the room.

And as soon as you do, you're rendered awestruck by the cabin.

It has expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the bustling city below.

The golden hour sunlight streaming in through the blinds.

The walls, adorned with exquisite golden motifs, which no doubt must have cost a fortune.

Fitting for a billionaire like him, you suppose.

Right in the center of the room is a rich mahogany desk, cluttered with documents.

Perched behind the desk is Jeon Jeongguk, the formidable CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It is renowned globally as the only firm which deals with technological ergonomics. Their unparalleled success transcended borders, setting the standard worldwide.

Needless to say, Jubilee and Co was a far cry from Jeon Enterprises.

You've read enough tabloids about the cold, formidable CEO to know what might transpire.

On behalf of your company's stakeholder, you'll ask him for help. He'll eye you incredulously, disdain marring his face before he politely calls the security guard to escort this deranged woman out.

You're taking a leap of faith coming here and hoping a tech tycoon like him even spares you a glance.

You hear him take a sharp intake of breath, prompting you to look at him.

His mouth was slightly agape, eyes widened, as he stared at you from across the room.

His gaze trailed your dainty form from top to bottom, eyes darkening the more they consume you.

You shudder.

You should have taken time to look for a more flattering outfit. Or maybe your hair was dishevelled?

Clearing your throat, you politely ask him, "May I take a seat, Mr Jeon?"

Caught off guard, Mr. Jeon suddenly stands up before motioning for you to sit.

"Please do, Miss...?"

"Y/N L/N." , you supply.

"Y/N..." His dulcet voice repeats your name, as though in a trance.

There was an eerie tension in the room but you would be damned if you let it get to you and lose this golden opportunity.

"As the chief operating officer, I'm here to represent Jubilee and Co."

This was it.

This was the part where you'll be catapulted out of the building by big and buff security men--

"How may I be of assistance to Jubilee and Co. today?"

You blanch.

Out of all outcomes you were expecting would ensue your introduction, this was the most unexpected one.

You were not prepared for this, how do you broach the proposal of an alliance now?

Quickly gathering yourself, you resume.

"We are honoured you have decided to give us the time of the day, Mr Jeon."

"Don't mention." His tone, though professional, betrayed a hint of eagerness.

"From what I presume, you're here to ask for an affiliation." He continues.

"Your stakeholders want Jubilee and Co to become a subsidiary under Jeon Enterprises."

You were tongue tied.

Mr. Jeon was an astute man. You'll give him that.

"Yes, sir. That is correct."

"And why, exactly, should I invest in a company that is, for a lack of better word, in shambles? Inundated with abysmal employees", He rejoinders.

You wince. No matter how true his word were, they were acerbic.

Jubilee was like a baby to you.

You've gone through hell to make it transition from a tier 3 brand name to a decently esteemed firm. You've spent countless sleepless nights looking after it, skipped meals to tend to it's wounds.

Chagrined, you speak before your brain can process your words.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Jeon. But Jubilee is more than just its current state. It's a testament to resilience, to the countless hours of dedication and hard work put in by its employees, including myself."

Your gaze meets his, vulnerability shining in your eyes.

"Yes, we may have faced setbacks, but we've also overcome them. I believe that adversity often presents the greatest opportunities for growth. I understand your reservations, Mr. Jeon, but I urge you to consider the untapped potential within Jubilee. With the right investments and guidance, I firmly believe that it has the potential to rise from its current situation and flourish once again."

A hush falls over the room.

Jeongguk's gaze remained unwavering, fixed on your face throughout your entire tirade.

"Consider me convinced, Miss. Y/N."

"S-Sir?"

"I guarantee. Jubilee's stock will be restored, funds will be augmented, and brand reputation will be unrivalled. The employees that will henceforth be inducted will be recruited by my personal hiring team."

You can barely hear the rest of his sentence, already thrumming with excitement. Your mind plotting all the ways you can get back at the naysayers.

The resurgence of Jubilee is inevitable, now that you have Jeongguk on board.

"But, you must understand Y/N, there are no free lunches in this world."

And just like that all your dreams come crashing down.

"Pardon, sir?"

Mr. Jeon gracefully rises from his chair, closing the proximity between the both of you as he leans on the front of the desk, positioned directly in front of you.

"I'll accede to all your demands, but I want a fair trade."

Mr. Jeon's words hang in the air. You had hoped for a smooth negotiation, where was this coming from?

"What kind of fair trade are you suggesting, Mr. Jeon?"

A knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze.

"I'll provide my expertise, my resources, to ensure Jubilee's revival," he begins.

"But in return, I ask for something beyond the confines of business."

There is a tacit silence enveloping the room.

The implication of his suggestion is glaringly blatant.

Situations like these were rife in the corporate world. Pleasure in exchange for business gains was not unheard of.

What was however, unheard of, was an employee of Jubilee engaging in such lewd dalliances.

While they were definitely slacking and inept when it comes to work and strategies, Jubilee has maintained a pristine image of possessing the most morally sound employees.

You are caught in a mire.

On one hand, you are disgruntled that he thought you were so shallow that you'll take him up on an offer as promiscuous as that.

But on the other hand, you are convinced this is your only shot at reviving Jubilee. Jungkook's assets and team marshalled together will undoubtedly take Jubilee to unprecedented heights.

"We have a deal, Mr. Jeon."

..............................................................................................................................

"Jeongguk, stop please! Not now, I have to get ready for a meeting."

"I don't renege on my promises, baby girl." He hums, biting your lower lip as his hands fondle your clothed chest.

"And I expect the same from you, yeah?"

The past few months have been very conducive for Jubilee.

As expected, with Jeongguk's acumen & assistance, the company is practically thriving, now in a league comparable to the unicorns.

And it had to be. You've traded yourself for its prosperity after all.

"Fuck", the expletive rolls off your tongue as a strangled moan.

His palms knead the flesh as he grinds his hips on your clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty, my baby. Got me wrapped around your little finger like a hormonal fucking teenager."

He grunts in your ear as one of his hands find purchase on your hip, the other smoothly lifting your pencil skirt to stroke your thigh.

"Kook, I c-can't"

He is terse as he pants, "Yes, you can. You will do everything I ask you to, am I clear?"

"Y-Yeah"

"Good girl" He dotes.

Unbuttoning your top and latching his tongue onto your now bare nipple.

"Stop teasing Kook, touch me already. I'm so fuckin' wet"

He grins as he resumes his ministrations on your inner thigh, cheekily peering up at you from where he is stationed, between your breasts.

"Someone's needy."

You huff exasperated, placing a hand on his as you halt him.

"Fine, I'll just ask Taehyung for help. He won't deny me anyways."

All air escapes you as you're suddenly jerked, your bare back meeting the wall with a thud.

You open your eyes at the sudden movement.

Jeongguk's laborious breath is laden with ire.

Eyes closed. Jaw clenched.

His previous playful beam, nowhere to be found.

He takes in a deep breath before opening his eyes.

They're the darkest you've ever seen them. Pupils enlarged to an extent that his eyes appear pitch black.

You fucked up.

His hand comes up as he lightly chokes you, not enough to hurt you but enough to cause a pool of wetness dripping down your thighs in its wake.

"Say shit like that one more time and see me burn that fucker alive."

"You have the fucking audacity to even think of another man, when yours is right in front of you? Don't you fucking forget who you belong to Y/N. You're fucking mine. Body, Heart and Soul. You've sworn your loyalty to me. You've surrendered yourself to me completely the day I agreed to buy that shitty company of yours."

Your panties are completely drenched at this point and you're unsure if its because you're turned on or petrified of how vexed he has become by the mere thought of you with another man, even though you had said it in jest.

Without any preamble, his fingers prod at your entrance as he sinks them in. Your walls embracing him like second skin.

"Even your tight little pussy isn't yours anymore. It belongs to Jeon Jungkook.”

He slaps your pussy immediately after, as though proving his point.

“And I don't fucking share, so you better pray to any deity you worship that I don't fucking catch you masturbating or so help me god."

He fingers you passionately. Not stopping even after you plead him to.

"T-Too sensitive, K-Kook."

Unbuckling his belt, He pulls out his penis. It stands tall, proud and red with pre cum oozing out of the tip.

You grab him for stability as he pushes the tip in, letting your walls adjust and clamp before he brutally picks up his pace.

"Tell me who you belong to." He bellows.

Too out of it, you fail to form a coherent response.

THWACK.

He slaps your ass hard.

Once. Twice. Too many times to count.

"I-I'm yours Koo, only yours." you manage to say, eager to cajole him.

"Damn right you are." He hums, seemingly placated with your answer. Picking up his pace, he spits in your mouth, meshing his tongue with yours, while his fingers play with your clit.

You feel the familiar warmth below your cervix, as you groan,

"C-Cumming"

He gently pats your hair, kissing your earlobe.

"Let go, baby."

As you ride off your high, too blissful to pay attention to your surroundings, you don't notice the way Jeongguk's gaze darkens.

............................................................................................................................

Part: 1 of 2

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

[puck-luck]

luke x older reader anon again! congrats on 1k! submitting the same request, with hearts and prompt 25 🫶🏻

warnings: unprotected p in v, age gap (not major.), religious themes & motifs, pining, childhood friends to lovers vibes, best friend's brother ofc, jealousy, occasionally insecure statements from luke, really just the sweetest sex you can imagine. i LOVED writing this. hence... the length.

WC: 4,351

You’ve been friends with the Hughes boys as long as you can remember. The first time you met Quinn, it was during your first pee-wee skate. 

Your dad was a big hockey fan, so he wanted to teach you how to skate. The debate had been between figure skating and hockey– your mom loved gymnastics, dance, and figure skating, having been an artistic athlete herself. Your dad wanted you to skate regardless, but hockey felt more suited for your talents. You were a competitive child– and territorial over your toys– so your dad thought it would translate well into a hockey environment. 

He took you to the Olympics in Salt Lake when you were three years old. You went to see figure skating and two of the United States hockey games– one for the men and one for the women. To your dad, it wasn’t a surprise how your eyes grew into saucers when you watched your first live hockey game.

He’d enrolled you in peewee skate the following week. There were no girls-only leagues, so you were put into a coed league. Quinn was in the same league. You became very fast friends– you liked to talk, your new little buddy liked to listen, and then you finally got him out of his shell midway through the season and your friendship was fully cemented. Actually, the second you learned his last name was Hughes– like Sarah Hughes, who won the Olympic Gold in single’s figure skating when you were in Utah– he was stuck with you. Just because you’d preferred hockey didn’t mean you didn’t love ice skating, too. It just wasn’t your passion.

You and Quinn stayed in touch after that peewee hockey season, enrolling in the same league and requesting to be on the same team until you both graduated into the boys- and girls-only leagues. You still remained friends, staying in contact as best you could when he moved to Toronto. You’d send letters back and forth and you became a pro at interpreting Quinn’s boyishly terrible handwriting. He’d tell you about his brothers, his parents, his school, and his hockey teams. You’d keep him updated on home, but then it stopped being home to Quinn. Soon enough, you were only talking about hockey and family. ‘Did you see that Crosby won the Hart Trophy?’ ‘Yeah! Ovi got the Calder though, so we’re still on even playing field. Canadian boy.’ ‘Hey, Ovi is Russian. Choose a real American and get back to me.’

It wasn’t long until you secured an invitation to visit the Hughes during the summer. You and your family went up to Toronto to visit them and you got to play with the Hughes boys for a whole week. It was so much fun, so the next summer, you begged to invite them to your place for a week.

The tradition continued for years, alternating houses and hometowns. You and Quinn both applied to Michigan– he played hockey, you did not. You were a good player, but you’re more of a beer league girl. You weren’t recruited to play college hockey– which, for a while, you thought was weird, because there are so few female hockey players in America. You’re hoping that your lack of recruitment means that there are hundreds of amazing women who are better than you at the sport, and that helped you accept your fate. After all, Quinn would sometimes bring you to the rink when it was empty. You’d get to play for a little while– and it was nice, in college, to have someone who knew you so well.

A lot of people assumed that you and Quinn were together, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Quinn was like your brother. There was that weird month when you were thirteen and you’d gone to visit him over the summer and you’d thought, maybe… but it turned out that you were just thirteen and confused because of your rampant hormones and puberty. Quinn is just your friend, your best friend. 

All of the brothers were pretty off-limits. You’d seen the way girls had started flirting with Jack as he’d entered his teens. You’re able to admit that he’s a cute boy. Luke was an absolute sweetheart, always trying to play with Quinn (and, by extension, you) as you’d grown up. You felt so fond of Luke in a ‘look at how precious he is, I need to protect him’ sort of way.

And then, last night at the lake house, he’d helped you line up a shot in pool and kept his hand on the small of your back when you bent over the table, and your mind had been spinning ever since. 

You can’t tell Quinn, obviously. That’s his baby brother. You’re not even sure how you feel about it– Luke’s always been your little buddy. Now, he’s over half a foot taller than you, so he’s not so little anymore. Still– he’s four years younger than you and Quinn. It’s the equivalent of a freshman hooking up with a senior and you feel icky. 

Regardless, you can’t keep your eyes off of him. He likes to twirl his fork between his fingers when he’s done eating dinner. He’ll spread his legs and sit forward when he’s playing video games with his brothers. An absent-minded, crooked smile falls on his mouth every time he’s only half-listening to you or the other boys. It’s paired with a look in his eyes that you can only describe as warm and content. In twenty-four hours, you’ve noticed more things about Luke than you’ve ever seen before. 

He’s grown up. It’s still a little weird to you, but he’s 21. You’re still 24, even though your 25th birthday is slowly creeping forward. You find yourself justifying the three year age gap, persuading yourself that it’s fine to look at Luke like that, but then you catch yourself and look away. You’re pushing the idea out of your brain.

But he’s goofy, and cute, and so sweet. He’s the same Luke as always, but you’re seeing him in a brand new way.

You’re able to keep yourself at bay for over a week. The boys throw a party and invite some girls over. Normally, you’re not jealous. You’re calm. You don’t care. 

Across the room, there’s a girl flirting with Luke. She’s got a hand on his arm and you’re nursing a drink, seeing red. You’re using Jack as a shield, but you’re still able to look over his shoulder. You think you’re being slick, but it turns out… you’re not.

“What are you looking at?” Jack laughs, tilting his head at you exaggeratedly before turning.

Unfortunately, you know you’ve been found out. There’s only one thing that would have you glowering in such a way. Nothing else in sight is nearly as interesting as Luke and the girl beside him. Jack clocks it right away.

He turns back to you with a tight, knowing smile, like he’s trying to hold back laughter. He pushes his tongue into his cheek and quirks his eyebrows at you. 

“Interesting,” Jack says, swirling his drink in his solo cup and then bringing the rim to his mouth. He maintains eye contact as he sips. 

You pop the bottom of the cup, making the drink splash into Jack’s face. “Fuck off.”

He wipes his mouth and crosses his arms, cradling the drink in the pocket of his elbow. “You and little Lukey?”

You grind your teeth and glare at him in the most menacing way you can. Jack has known you for too long to be intimidated by your glares. He also never really cared that much in the first place– he’s too shit-eating to be concerned about the repercussions of his words.

Jack smirks some more. “Don’t worry,” he says, popping his jaw like he’s turning a piece of gum over in his mouth. “Your secret is safe with me.”

You clench your teeth and continue glaring. You suck your cheeks in and bite down on the inside of your mouth, lips curling with annoyance. 

“You know, he wouldn’t mind if you went over there and staked your claim,” Jack says with a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t think he’d be upset at all.”

“Fuck off,” you repeat again. 

“C’mon, Y/N.” Jack pushes your shoulder lightly, jokingly. “You’re being obvious.”

“Quinn’ll kill me. And– it’s Luke, Jack.”

“So what? It’s not weird. We all grew up together. We’re all around the same age. It’s not a big deal. He’s had a crush on you forever.”

“It’s different,” you sing-song. “He’s younger than me.”

“Let’s go, Cougar,” Jack teases, reaching up to high-five you. 

You don’t take it, instead deciding to punch his stomach. 

Jack doubles over like you actually wounded him, but straightens up smiling. “You oughta go make him jealous.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“Dude, I’m serious. Let’s go flirt with Trevor or something. Someone who Luke thinks you’re better than– I guarantee he’ll be over here in a second.”

Jack actually tugs you toward Trevor and explains the plan before you can even get a word in. So much for keeping your secret. Trevor, to his credit, is a very willing subject. He keeps a hand on your waist during the whole conversation and you do your best to ignore the niggling desire to look over your shoulder at Luke. 

Turns out, you should’ve been worried about Quinn.

“Get your hands off her, Zegras,” Quinn snaps, pushing Trevor’s hand off of your waist and stepping between you. “You’re not allowed to fuck my friend.”

If that’s how he feels about one of his friends touching you, then you feel a bit faint at the idea of Quinn’s reaction to Luke getting together with you. That might seal the deal– you really can’t fuck Luke.

“I’m not fucking her,” Trevor says. “We’re working an angle here, Quinn.”

Quinn scoffs. “Yeah? What angle is that, Trevor?”

“We’re trying to make Luke jealous, hello?” Trevor says like it’s obvious. 

“Oh my God,” you groan, covering your face in your hands. “Trevor, you fucking moron.”

“What?” Quinn demands, but his look turns into sheer bewilderment. “You’re doing this for Luke?”

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, stomping away. 

Trevor, somehow, is free to follow after you. Quinn hasn’t stepped in to stop him. You wish he would. He’s probably too confused. “This is good,” he says. “He’s definitely going to see us going upstairs together. Hold my hand.”

“No.”

“Dude, it was working. Luke was looking over at us the whole time.”

“I don’t care, Trevor.”

“Don’t you want him?”

“Not like that,” you hiss between your teeth. “I don’t want to make Luke jealous. I want him to come to me because he wants to, okay? Go downstairs. I don’t want to be with you right now.”

Trevor holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright. I’ll go. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You disappear into your bedroom, changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. It’s nice to have your own bedroom in the lake house that Jack and Quinn bought with their NHL salaries, but tonight it’s bittersweet to be able to hear the party going on as you lay in bed. It’s not at all like when you fall asleep during a holiday party and your parents put you to bed, and you can still hear the laughter of the guests in your dreams. Now each bout of laughter reminds you of her, the girl whose hand was on Luke like she already owned him, and you wonder if he’s making her giggle with his stupid corny jokes.

God, last week you didn’t even like Luke. Now you’re burning with jealousy– or maybe it’s the fires from Hell, because you’ve got a completely inappropriate crush on your best friend’s little brother. You can never come back to the lake house like this, at least not until you’ve gotten over this shit. Why are you so affected? It’s Luke, for fuck’s sake.

It’s Luke again when someone comes knocking at your door. You thought it would be Quinn, ready to chew you out or question you extensively about this crush. To your surprise, the problem himself appears. 

“You okay?” Luke asks, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. His silhouette is burly and big and you have to close your eyes to shake the pang of emotion that penetrates your chest.

“Just tired,” you reply quietly. “Couldn’t stomach the party anymore.”

“Did Trevor say something to upset you?”

Quieter: “No, Luke.”

He hovers silently. You can hear the cogs in his brain turning. His pitch matches yours when he speaks next, although his tone is much more melancholic than despondent. “Are you mad at me?”

You hesitate for a second too long. You’re not mad, but you’re certainly taken aback by the uncertainty in his words. “No, Luke,” you say again, but this time the pang that goes through your chest is more familiar. You don’t want to upset him. You’ve always wanted to protect Luke from the world, but now you’ve made him unsure and insecure. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Luke asks, and you have to take a shaky breath. He sounds so small. It’s like the time that you didn’t let him ride bikes with you and Quinn to the store, even though he begged, and then he cried and ran to his mom. After seeing Luke’s puffy red eyes and resolute determination to ignore you for the rest of the night, your soda and candy bar didn’t taste as good. In fact, they tasted a bit like cardboard. You ended up throwing half of the bar away and going home early. You swore you’d never make sweet little Luke feel that way again.

“You wouldn’t get it, I don’t think,” you tell him quietly, pushing yourself up in bed and resting on your elbows. You take a deep breath and look at him, sure that he can see the way your chest rises and falls. 

Your eyes have adjusted enough that you can see the way Luke’s mouth opens, as if to say something, then closes with a shake of his head. You notice his eyes fluttering towards the corner of your room, removing you from his line of vision. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me,” Luke says, biting his lower lip in a dejected and heartbreaking way. “I get it. I’ll go.”

“Luke,” you sigh. “Don’t be like that.”

“No, it’s fine. You don’t wanna talk to me,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not friends like that. I’m not Quinn.”

“Luke.” You push yourself up further, pushing the covers down and criss-crossing your legs. “It’s not that.”

“It’s always that. And if it’s not that, then it’s that I’m not Jack. I just– I don’t want to hear that from you.” Luke shrugs again, always defaulting to that motion when he’s deflecting because he’s big and awkward and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. As if he’s thinking the same thing, you watch him shove his fists in his pockets and keep his shoulders tense.

“Come here,” you request, head tilted and mouth turned down with sadness. You shift your position so that both of your knees are under you and you’re sitting back on your heels. “Luke, please.”

You hold your arms out for a hug, not for the first time in your life, and Luke shuffles over. He takes his time and he refuses to meet your eyes, just stooping down so that he can wrap his arms around your middle. It’s a weird position, given that you’re kneeling on the bed and he’s half-bent over. You can feel the pout and doubt all over Luke’s face, so you reach a hand up to his curls and run your thumb over one of his more perfect spirals. He’s letting it grow out a bit and you like how messy it looks.

“Jack told me something,” you reveal softly, still petting through his hair. Luke stiffens in your arms, but doesn’t pull away. “He said you like me.”

Luke groans and struggles in your grip, even sinking to his knees to try and get out of your grasp. He’s kneeling beside the bed, and you bring your legs around so that he’s situated between them. You keep a hand on his shoulder, the other still playing with his hair. He’s evading your eyes again, looking stoutly at the floor.

“I have feelings for you, too,” you whisper, the admission feeling heavy and wrong and like a knife to the gut. Admittance is the first step, but you just feel silly. “And I don’t really know how to deal with those. You’re– I’ve known you since we were so little, Luke.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Luke says bluntly, a hint of a complaint in his sentence. “You’ve been acting weird because you like me, too?”

“I was upset that there was a pretty girl talking to you,” you say sheepishly. “And I just didn’t want to go along with Jack’s plan. He wanted to make you jealous. Thought that would work.”

“I’m always jealous when you talk to another guy,” Luke tells you like it’s obvious. “I just, kind of, gave up. I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about me. I thought I’d get over it. Stupid childhood crush, you know.”

“Yeah,” you agree, understanding that you yourself just experienced a similar line of thinking. You said you’d get over it, but you don’t really want to. Not right now, at least, when Luke’s sitting in front of you and he’s got a tentative hand on your calf, rubbing his thumb over the muscle and staring up at you with big eyes. You bite your lip, trying to think logically about this, but all you can do is examine Luke’s features like you’ll never get to see them again. Maybe you won’t– not like this. Not in this liminal space between something and nothing. This is one of those moments that you know won’t last– because the next one will change everything. So, for a moment longer, you just reach out and run your thumb along Luke’s cheekbone, eyes flickering between his cheek, his lips, and his eyes. 

“What do we–” Luke loses his words and presses his lips together, looking up at you, expression completely tortured. He turns his head and kisses the side of your knee, which makes your heart split a bit more.

“I don’t know,” you admit. You wish you had a better answer for him. You truly aren’t sure what you can do from here. There are too many things to consider– so you won’t consider them at all.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Luke asks. 

A fond burst of laughter escapes from your chest. “Lukey, this is a twin bed. We can’t both fit.”

A pout comes over Luke’s face again. “We can too,” he insists, furrowing his brow a bit. “I’ll prove it. Move over.”

He’s climbing into your bed before you can tell him no. His long and spindly limbs are coaxing you to lay back, then warming you as he holds you tight. It’s a tight squeeze, but that just means that you’re touching him everywhere. It’s nice and you suddenly wish you were facing him, so you roll awkwardly in his arms until you’re face to face. Your noses are nearly touching and Luke is staring at you, really taking you in. 

Your eyes find his lips… and then he’s leaning in.

It’s charged with tension and electricity, but it’s soft and hesitant. Neither of you want to test the boundaries and you don’t think this feels quite real. Your stomach is swooping with bats, not butterflies, and it’s exactly what you wanted. This is what you expected when you found yourself imagining kissing Luke this past week, even if you shook yourself out of it because it felt inappropriate. Here, it feels so right that you swear you could start crying from relief. You’ve never felt that way before from just a kiss. Your chest could burst.

When he pulls away, you feel frozen in time. Your eyes are closed and his lips are right there, a hair’s breadth away. You swallow, touching his chest, palm flat. 

“Was that okay?” Luke asks.

You nod, then slide your lips over his again. 

You come together in a way that can’t be described as anything other than desperate. Your hands touch him in any way they can and Luke’s do the same. You move in tandem like you’ve got a language of your own– an indignant hum from you followed by a sweet “I know” from Luke before he touches you exactly the way you want.

Kissing the whole time, Luke gets you on your back. Your lips only part to remove your shirt, then his. Luke’s big hand cradles your jaw and neck, keeping your head and mouth exactly where he wants them. He guides you with a surprising amount of experience and sureness, although maybe he’s fueled by the same feeling of rightness as you are.

He opens you on his other hand, snaking his hand into your pajamas shorts because he can’t be bothered to remove them. His hips roll against your thigh, his long torso displacing your pelvis from his as he kisses you. He’s big– you knew it height-wise, but now you can feel him against your leg, and you want him to fill you. You want him to claim you, to take you– you want to give all of yourself to Luke. It’s madness and though you’re sure you’ve lost your mind, the crack in your chest that pours out love for Luke has taken control of your body.

After three fingers and a lot of whimpering from you, clutches at Luke’s hair and bruising kisses working in tandem with your noises, Luke works your shorts down. He breaks from your lips so that he can take you in beneath him. He touches your waist and the curve of your stomach, the one that you cringed at for so many years as a teen but finally accepted in your grown age. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says reverently, eyes portraying nothing but sincerity.

You can’t say anything to that, nothing that can match his utterly genuine sentiment or portray how grateful you are that he took the time to say those words, so you kiss him again. You muster up an embarrassingly wanton ‘please,’ which you draw across his lips like a paintbrush. 

You can’t get enough of saying his name as he presses into you, his heavy body blanketing yours. You can feel his every muscle move as he works into you and you’ve never felt more like a masterpiece. There were times when you made fun of the phrase ‘making love,’ but sex with Luke feels intensely like you’re creating something tangible by coming together in this way. 

The moans and cries that you’re trying to stifle so that no one comes barging in should be enough to convince Luke that this is everything to you. Sweet, sweet Luke– he seems choked up when he says, “They can’t fuck you like I can.” He says the sentence like he has to prove it to you, like you’re not falling apart under his touch. He pleads with you between the words, in the spaces where you can see his breath hitch in his throat.

You’re still not sure where this night will leave you tomorrow morning. Everything, everything has turned on its head. Somehow, you feel a bit like you’ve been leading up to this for a while, not just in the past week. Luke knew it before you did.

“No,” you agree, touching his cheeks and keeping his eyes on yours. “They can’t.” You kiss him briefly, feeling his tongue swipe into your mouth before you pull away. “I’m yours.”

Luke actually keens at that, his arms straining as he shifts his weight to fuck into you harder. Because you’re so close, the bed isn’t moving enough to bang against the walls or creak on its boxsprings, and you’re glad. This is a moment for just you and Luke– you don’t want anyone hearing. You don’t want anyone to be around. You hope that they’ve all miraculously disappeared and you and Luke are the last people in the house, maybe even on Earth.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Luke repeats, his forehead meeting yours. You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale, his breath automatically syncing with yours. You’re overwhelmed, but deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice reminding you about an ancient tradition in Polynesian culture where forehead-to-forehead contact and breathing together is sacred, like you’re sharing the breath of life– like there’s some power in the universe, a god or many, clicking things into place.

He unravels first, fucking you through his release with urgence akin to the sentence he said before. Always trying to prove himself– but Luke has always been enough for you. Maybe not always in this way, but now, there’s nothing he can do to shake your favor. All of the feelings in your heart have been poured out, shared and mixed with his own, and it’s created a puddle– or a bubble– around the pair of you. 

It’s been written that sex is when two people come together as one. You finally understand what they mean, joining Luke in the seas of ecstasy.

Sweet nothings and touches like worship follow. Your hands can’t get enough of Luke’s strong figure. He runs his fingertips along your body like he’s in awe of your figure, like he gets to touch a statue so lifelike and beautiful that he can’t believe it was ever a block of marble at all. 

The concerns about what will happen tomorrow don’t exist here, in your dark bedroom with Luke stuck to you like glue. For now, it’s just you. Together, breathing, touching, loving– there’s nothing else that could matter. This is it.

note: i have to work on my grad school app in the coming days, so this will probably be the last blurb/oneshot until i finish the application. but, i might get bored of writing that and could pop in to do another smut piece here and there ;) hopefully i'll chat with y'all soon! but i don't want to rush this grad school app LOL

[crustyfloor]

blinking the gun to my forehead and then I'm gone (laughs)

Till, as a parallel to his All-in cover enters the round with a strong presences, unmistakably making his presences on stage known, he looks angry and tired, but he's not in that "catatonic" state that he was in during ROUND 6 anymore.

the moment Till lost his composure and started to stress and panic, the moment he looked back at the gun in the crowd, blatantly aware of the looming threat and openly feared it--was the moment Luka knew he had him right where he wanted him, when Till's mental instability and desperation caught up to him, his inability to contain his emotions completely consumed him, and then, there was the struggle. And Luka revels in the power he holds over Till's head, and the way Till can do nothing about it, not in this state. Till's guitar motif remains prominently in their singing, showing that they're on equal footing, but there is an obvious power dynamic at play underneath this thin veil of a "performance".

Luka does everything right to appeal to their audience, charming the audience with his allure, with perfectly exceptional skills, and constantly showing that he is superior, Luka is the model of a perfect pet-human. Till is contradictory, being naturally rebellious, he was never and would never be content being stuck in a cage to confirm like Luka can, because Luka was trained for in every aspect to fit the role of a perfect pet-human to please the Segyein in every way he acts down to the rhythm of his heart, he is truly a "one of a kind" to the Aliens--and it is all thanks to them that Luka is who he is today, it is in Luka's nature to adapt and obey, Till doesn't accept his environment and actively fights against it.

Till is talented, passionate, and incredibly skilled at his craft, but it didn't matter that all of his songs were hits, it didn't matter that he was very promising and popular. Because the aliens look for a spectacle, a toy, not a human, and Till is so overwhelmingly human. His nature comes back to bite him no matter how much he tries to deny these complexities.

Till tries to stand his ground and regain his control, but even then, he was easily agitated when taunted and provoked by Luka. Luka knew exactly which button to press, unsurprisingly, Luka had seen and analyzed everything from ROUND 6, so when he touched Till's neck and his face in such an intimate manner that could only remind Till of the trauma of ROUND 6, he faltered easily despite himself.

--"The dark crimson air. Embraces us, lifting our spirits" (Possibly in reference to Ivan, because later Till has flashbacks of round 6 with red tint)

--"And the fiery thrill. Blazes out to the sky" (A reference to meteors? then I want to connect it back to Ivan again, because on that night Ivan and he almost escaped, that was probably the happiest he'd ever looked with Ivan, the rush of freedom was thrilling, but he went back to stay with Mizi)

The taunting doesn't even end there, sickeningly. Till is forced to reminisce on the events in round 6, remembering exactly how Ivan's face looked before he fell, and at this point, Till is starting to feel the pressure.

Even suffering physical affects-- a nosebleed from the strain and stress of it all on his body, even just thinking about Round 6 causes such an immense reaction--I'm assuming that this is a result of the experiments and abuse Urak inflicts on him, even just general stress . Because one thing Urak prides himself on is pushing his Pet-Humans to the absolute limit to recognize their talents, be it any method, but without any regard to their mental health. But the sheer cruelty of this treatment doesn't lead to any of his pets living long, Till, having been the last one standing out of all of them, was meant to follow that cycle sooner or later, he had already shown signs that he was deteriorating. This along with the drugs they may or may not be making Till take to keep him compliant. The state of his conscience only seems to get worse the longer he pushes himself, and he puts a strenuous effort into not collapsing.

I'd really like to highlight Till's performance and how strong it actually was during Round 6, Luka's manipulation will intentionally make his opponents look weak, at least, to the ignorant Segyein, despite his struggling Till still managed to make a worthy opponent, if the points he gained were anything to go by--had he been given the opportunity to keep performing without Luka's intervention I think Till would have had better chances of winning (even if by a little). Despite being mentally unstable and physically drained he could still put up a fight next to the likes of Ivan in Round 6 and even Luka, but this round, brought out all of the weakness in Till.

This stage was built on the foundation of Till's despair and meant for Till's demise. And to a t, Luka has every advantage, Luka revels in the control, and feels a sort of giggly euphoria from seeing Till struggling. (It feels very obvious to me that there were some favors put in place here for that to happen.)

Wherever he turns, Ivan's face is plastered on all the big screens so that Till is unable to avoid it. It's almost dizzying the way the camera moves, the flashing lights, the overwhelming purple that symbolizes Luka's complete control. the chaos is meant to symbolize Till's feelings, Ivan looks more stifling as he looks down on Till with such a intense gaze. That pressure, symbolically and quite literally, physically weighs on Till, just close to pushing him to his breaking point. In the end, Ivan is a trauma to Till, a trauma that Till can't even begin to come to terms with or approach. Then, a tool to be used against Till. Luka uses this weakness to his advantage, forcing Till to feel the pain, the anger, the memories, like a prison of his own grief and regret that he can't escape.

--"Oh, in a blink, gone forget everything and just enjoy"

--"Oh, in a blink, gone don't miss this moment"

It's one of the more prominent call-backs to ROUND 3 when, from the perspective of the manipulated, this isn't comforting in the slightest. It isn't at all loving, even though it's gentle and familiar. Luka's type of manipulation tricks the mind into thinking about loss, love-- Luka blurs the line, love and loss, hatred or regret--because you can not feel loss without an attachment, Luka prods at the unaddressed feelings Till has about Ivan, and his subconscious attachment Ivan, it churns Till's inner turmoil, the guilt, the grief, Ivan's frozen grin and eyes staring back at him. It is horrific for Till to be confronted like this, when he puts so much effort into avoiding these feelings, it's pulled to the forefront of his mind, that Ivan died, that Ivan had feelings for him.

And that is why this type of framing is fitting for them, Till's true feelings about Ivan are hidden and misconstrued, even by Till himself as he shoves them down and replaces them with something more easier to rationalize--hatred. His avoidance of Ivan as a whole, and the events of Round 6 is exactly why Luka targeted him this way. Overall like I said before, Till's perspective of Ivan in his memories will probably never be 100% clear, because he is reserved, subtle, and he would be actively repressing them, he is actively avoiding confronting his grief, and the only time he does is when he's forced too, because just from the Round 6 flashbacks stained in red, haunted by death. And reminiscing about all those moments of hurt, annoyance, even affection for Ivan just adds to his spiraling storm of confusing emotions that he can't understand, Till replaces sorrow with anger and channels it into his song, only for it to be used against him.

It is only when Till sees Mizi that he snaps out of it. When their eyes meet, it's like Till is reawakened and immediately regained his composure, hyper focused on finding her in the crowd. Luka notices this and, for a brief second, looks concerned, confused, but he is quick to reel his expression back into something neutral, but he looks at Till in discomforted, Luka can't afford to look anything but the more dominant on stage, but he's baffled to see Till get up again and keep moving, he just wouldn't go down without a fight. Luka addresses Till subtly and aims to reaffirm his sense of control to no avail.

Till desperately staggers to reach Mizi, in that moment, Till is childish again; he looks like a little kid, blushing with wide, bright eyes, and he is genuinely so, so happy to see her. Even his light indicator is changed from red to green in such little time. Mizi's signature pink light shines bright on him as he reaches out with an outstretched hand, and in his perspective she welcomes him warmly, just like she always does.

And then, in seemingly the blink of an eye Till is abruptly shot before he can reach her. Mizi has to watch Till die. And the nature of his death is so visceral Mizi is heartbroken. You would wonder why it is so quick to happen, put yourself in Mizi's shoes, she was so close and they were so happy and just like that--it's over. It goes to show how fast the Aliens shatter humans, even when they least expect it, when they both feel so free and hopeful in the moment. Life, especially their life, is so incredibly un-fucking-fair, but that is ultimately their reality. The Segyein do not care.

It's interesting how Till and Sua's death scenes parallel, even just visually, but more importantly, Mizi's role in both events. She is horrified by the realization that she is totally helpless after believing she can change reality, the reality that Till couldn't be saved, and the reality that Sua had lied to her. key difference, however, Mizi didn't know about death before Sua's death, with Till she knew that was a possibility but was desperate to not lose the last friend she had, so she made a foolish choice because of that childish hope she never let go of.

Immediately we go to a flashback. This scene, in particular, broke me completely, this whole scene goes to show just how close they were as friends, how affectionate and kind Mizi was with Till, even despite his more reserved nature, often keeping to himself and keeping a particular distance between them, still, Mizi and Till have a special bond. it's so important for the both of them that this is highlighted because their friendship is incredibly valued by the both of them. These little memories that Mizi looks back on are the reason why she cares for Till so much. And the innocent nature of Till's love for her is bittersweet.

Till reminisces about the comfort of Mizi's smile at that moment, the one thing Till wanted to protect. One of the many things about her that he fell in love with. Even if they live a cruel, unfair life, Mizi was always gentle and compassionate. It's a stark contrast to when it cuts back to the present and her face is full of tears, even when HyunA warned her she had gone all this way, risked her own life to save Till, despite not knowing him so much, her attachment to him as a childhood friend was more important to her than her sense of self-preservation.

--"Before this piercing, radiant moment. Fades away"

Because Mizi always valued her relationships. He was family, the only family she had left--she was desperate to save her remaining family from such a fate, she knew what was going to happen as soon as she saw him on that screen, maybe, just maybe she can do it. she has to. But they were doomed to despair from the start, they were born into it. Mizi naively thought that if she couldn't save Sua or Ivan, she could at least save Till.

Till can't even bring himself to smile back at her as she weakly tries to comfort him in his last moments, pulling hair out of his eyes and cradling his face. Again, he seeks out her comfort, and tries to comfort her when he touches her hand, but he doesn't die with a smile on his face, he can't even force one because he doesn't want this; he doesn't want to die, and ultimately, he doesn't want to leave Mizi. But he's content with staring into Mizi's eyes as he drifts off, because Mizi is here, he's at peace.

The gentle lullaby for the background music just makes this scene so much more depressing. It's too lighthearted and sweet for a scene like this. When he was a child, Till was hesitant to get close to Mizi, and a lot of people out of fear, doubt, and all kinds of feelings that he'd learned to repress after so many years of living. In his final moments, he was vulnerable, and he was a quiet, gentle melody. That's how I think this atmosphere represents Till more than the brash, loud one that he often adopts. He's a cold, hardened shell with a soft interior. When he's able to be himself, he's just a gentle child, an isolated, abused, sensitive child. His death might be the saddest yet because he had grown up a fighter, he had lived all of his life fighting against The aliens, hurt, abuse, everything, to avoid the very moment he is beaten down into something human and unimaginably vulnerable, when Till stopped fighting back and instead reached out to comfort, to hope, he died. I'm just so glad that Till had comfort and was loved during his final moments until the end.

His relationships with the two most important people in his life are framed like this, darkness and brightness. Ivan is with him in his darkest moments, and Mizi is the brightness Till finds comfort in, Where Ivan is intimidating and confusing, Mizi is safe, and he gravitates towards her like it's instinct. He would never associate her, the girl who is so pure and sweet, with trauma, to ruin her idealized image of her in his head. But even if she looked differently to him now, seeing that she came back to him, he didn't hesitate to run to her. After all, his words in ROUND 2 weren't a bluff. He'd wholeheartedly love her regardless no matter what happens, because it's Mizi. Till's last thoughts being focused on Mizi shows us just how much he looked up to her, Ivan's death was impactful on him just as much as it was traumatic, similar to the karaoke scene, Till focuses and reaches out to Mizi, to blinding warm light, to forget about every pain in the moment. Till dies using that same coping mechanism and it tells me just how hopeless he was in that moment, wishing for any better situation than this, but still. He had her.

(Now, how will this development affect the other characters? I don't think Alien stage, the show, is over yet. Now that Aliens have all their rogue pet-humans back where they want them with no easy way to escape--I think Mizi and HyunA will be used if they don't manage to escape in time, to compete against each other? to compete in the new season or against Luka? no idea, honestly. But I hope they kill Luka cause FUCK that guy.)

[mcondance]

pretty brown eyes (quit breakin’ my heart); s14 spencer reid x fem!reader

fingering, in his lap in his driver’s seat, softdom!spence (it’s canon idc), i have only seen one ep of criminal minds so years of crushing on spence through edits and stuff are working overtime ☆ this was supposed to be just a quick thing just abt spencer’s puppy eyes but it turned into this whole thing so enjoy. mcon writing more than like 250 words? the spencer reid effect is crazy. ☆ title from pretty brown eyes by mint condition and i tweaked it a little to fit a motif in here okayokay enjoy

spencer’s eyes, wide and beautifully brown, are his key. he knows what he’s doing when he flashes them, makes them a thousand times more expressive than they usually are. 

he begs you with them, begs to have his favorite thing for dinner, begs you for a million kisses, and anything else you can think of. he’s dangerous.

but he’s even more dangerous when he’s using them to make you do something.

two fingers deep inside you, perched in his lap in the leaned-back driver’s seat of his car, you swear you could explode. his hands are practiced and precise and patient in their conquest.

your hand clamps around his wrist, trying futilely to do something, anything to control the shocks and waves building incessantly inside you. he’s too strong and you’re too weak and your hand only serves as something else to fuel him, to urge him to plunge his fingers ever deeper and rock his palm against your clit. his palm dampens with your wetness, joining his thighs beneath you and the expanse of your thighs too. 

“ah-” you borderline heave.

“mhm,” he hums, his chest rumbling under you. 

the car’s silence sets a perfect backdrop for your runaway whines and whimpers, “i can’t” and “spence” and “uh uh, please” flowing from your lips like the water threatening to fall from your eyes. his fingers disappearing inside you make their own disgusting noise, too. 

spencer takes it all in, into that calculating mind of his, eyes moving from where his hand works between your legs to the hand you have clamped around his over your stomach, and resting on your face that holds a multitude of sensations and thoughts and feelings. 

you squirm a little, too strung out to move more than a couple centimeters but of course, he picks it up. brown eyes find yours as you feel his head turn and yours turns to him, and you’re fucked. so fucked.

“can you take it for me? hmm?” he’s making you. you couldn’t say no to those eyes even if you had the strength to. he’s cunning and you both know what he’s doing, but his eyes plead for you to let him play with you and your body cries yes and it’s sealed, you’re sealed and signed and delivered. 

“yeah,” you nod and keen, and his eyes soften ever more, snapping nerves through your body, and you tighten around his fingers, pulling another hum from his chest. 

he needs to kiss you, so he does. awkward angle and all, he leans and takes your lips into a kiss. he’s breathtaking and shit, his kiss has you as fucked up as his hand between your thighs, the focused and fluid motions of his fingers and palm melting your body onto his. 

sweat has you sticking to him, too, soaking through your shirt and his, and if you were more sober you’d thank him for not making it where you’d have to suffer through soaked underwear and shorts on the ride home. 

intoxicated, though, you squeeze your eyes shut and lean your head onto his shoulder, finally giving into the pleasure he’d spend lifetimes just giving to you. 

“good.” he states, abundantly pleased at the tension leaving your body. he hums again, drawing closer to your neck so he’s watching the view from where you bear witness. 

“you feelin’ good, baby? now that you’re all sweet f’me?”

“mhm-hmm,” you keen. you’d be a lie if you said it didn’t send heat and a thousand butterflies rising up through you, and even if you could lie, your body gives you away. again you dig your nails into his arm and the other finds his face, cupping his cheek and rubbing through his stubble, and it calms you down by proxy. he could crack a smile, now, and he does, a little grin spreading across his stupidly gorgeous face, a tease and poison and pleasure all in one methodical, pretty, dazzling genius.

again, your ears focus on the sound. and, damningly, his do too, you can feel it in the quickening of his hand and the deep rolling in his chest when his fingers and your cunt grow louder, ricocheting off his windows and bouncing back to grace two pairs of ears. it's vulgar and disgusting, but you both indulge in it like the purest water on earth.

it feels good to let spencer work you how he knows you like, to be the only thing he has going on in that brain of his.

the sparks that have been growing in you since spencer first laid his hands on you are starting to glide into fireworks, and you can’t run from it. it’s the opposite of what you want to do. now, laid bare and pathetic in spencer’s arms, you just want to cum for him, and everything that comes with it.

spencer knows, and he does nothing differently. consistency brings you to the edge and your head falls back to find his eyes, devout and resolute, clear in what he wants from you. you’re swimming in them, floating lazily through and he nods demandingly slow, and his request is fulfilled, his eyes are too beautiful and expressive and wanting for you to not cum.

cradled in his arms, you shiver with the pleasure of it, whines and sobs validated by spencer’s soft hum as he watches you unfold. shuddering, it flows through you and obeys the movements of spencer’s hand while he follows your bursting with parted lips and wondering eyes. 

as your breath returns to you, and the stars behind your eyes take their place back in the sky, your chest still heaves softly, sense and brains returning to you slowly. you open your eyes to find spencer’s staring right at you, soft with adoration and amused contentment.