#for some reason it disappeared from the tags

[blulowy]

Okay, this post allows me to yap about all the technical details and things behind the creation. Warning, I’m lacking sleep and not English speaking, so some things might be phrased weirdly.

Let’s go page to page and the first page is definitely my favourite(let me draw violence pllssss, Calam give me gore to draw in this fic and my life is yours). There’s no words, just two panics for different reasons. Ringmaster is in fight or flight mode. He doesn’t see his friend he sees potential danger and he treats his as one. His hold is tight to be close to actually hurt. But subconsciously he knows that it might be Grian. That he needs to be careful. And Grian is panicked because he is worried for his friend. Not his life. His friend’s condition.

Ringmaster looks intimidating, feral, both because he is thinking as a villain and because he can’t think straight due to the adrenaline rush.

Second page. I think the most interesting and not obvious part is the soft orange glow at the Grian touching Scar. Because if you haven’t seen my redraw of the scene with the name drop, you won’t know that the physical contact there was going with warm orange glow to symbolise the fact that Grian, even if not showing it, focuses on the touch. Focuses on the warmth that he feels. And the cause of that warmth is Scar. It’s just a callback to that scene.

Third page. Ringmaster’s speech bubbles. They are with little digitalisation of green blobs of distortion of the voice modulator. You can see that in the conversation when Grian turned away this distortion gradually disappeared, indicating that mask is no longer there.

And of course Grian’s perspective on examining Ringmaster’s state. Originally it was just him nodding, but I decided to jump into full Grian’s pov for this panel.

Fourth page. Our face reveal. Obviously orange soft light because Grian does focus on it, he does feel warmer, but doesn’t acknowledge it.

Grian clearly saw the face. Reader did not, for reader it’s blocked by Scar’s hand. When Grian apologises to Scar, he tries to block the memory of his face. And I decided to take it literally by blocking Scar’s face with Grian’s own words.

Fifth page. That’s the fan favourite I see and it has a lot to talk about.

Firstly, detail that you pointed out in the tags and a lot of people missed: eyes. Scar’s eyes not just have more details, but also their highlights are soft, warm, pastel green. Ringmaster’s eyes have a cold, bring, neon toxic green. In every shot that has highlights they depend on what outfit he has. Even more, the general shape of Ringmaster is sharper. Shoulders, hair, shape of eyes.

But that’s not the reason this page became y’all favourite, is it? It’s the symbolics. Because right now they are in a trap, in a trouble, in a potential danger because of Ringmaster. Not Scar. Scar is fine. Scar would’ve been fine. Grian would’ve been fine. The thing that put them in this predicament is Ringmaster. It’s what holding Scar from just calmly walking out of this bathroom. It’s what holding Grian from seeing his friend’s face. And I made it literal. Ringmaster is not just there. He is putting his weight on Scar’s shoulders. He is holding, hiding his face.

The next two pages are interesting in a way that reader is still not allowed to see Scar’s face. Something always stops it. Perspective or speech bubbles. Why? Because the entire fic is from Grian’s pov. And Grian doesn’t want to remember Scar’s face. It’s there. It should be seen. But he refuses to see it, which denies readers ability to see.

And the last page. The orange light because a repetitive theme in my drawings when those two get closer, feel warmer due to each other’s actions. Of course the light would be there. But fan fact, on last page, Grian’s name tag says gay.

That’s all for my analysis, have rough layout for the pages.

This is the longest redraw for this fic so far. I hope it will stay like that, otherwise I will start charging you guys to look at it.

From: Midnight Strangers on AO3 by @seriouslycalamitous

[bodhiscurls]

run for the hills. ( garrick tavis )

you knew it was dangerous to fall in love with garrick tavis and you did it anyways, you should've known it was never going to be you when it has always been her. part of 'garrick week' day 7 - free @empyreanevents for a better reading experience, listen to run for the hills - tate mcrae! tagging @thelov3lybookworm (i didnt forget you mwah!!)

pairing: garrick tavis x fem! reader, implied garrick tavis x imogen cardulo

themes: angst, swearing (not a lot), fighting (but you're decent at it)

he pulled you in with that easy grin, those dimples that popped like two holes sucking you in and once you slipped you fell hard.

"boo," he whispers in your ear and makes you jump slightly, hand going to steady your heart. you've bonded to a dragon, you can move mountains with your mind and yet a certain gentle giant was the one thing that can catch you off guard.

you pace yourself after a moment and get ready to scold him to which he returns with a loud laugh, "didn't catch you this morning?" you ask lightly. he didn't usually stay the night often, but some nights when the two of you were so wrapped up in each others embrace, tangled into the mess of sweet nothings he stayed. you slept to the sound of his rising heartbeat as he held your frame close and it felt so perfect.

so perfect that you forgot about all the other times, he'd slip free into the thick of the early morning. the first few times it didn't bother you, this wasn't anything serious and he made sure you knew that going into this situation. then he started staying the nights, starting searching for you in a sea of cadets in the food hall and looking at you a little bit more meaningful, like something had softened in him and it melted you to your core.

oh was that warmth dangerous.

"just something xaden needed," he shrugs off and the tone of indifference is hard to ignore. it sets into the pits of your stomach and lingers there a little too long. it was always something on the nights he didn't stay, but never enough to warrant an actual reason and if you didn't know any better it felt that he didn't trust you enough to know the real reason. like he gave you the key to his heart but you still had to knock to enter.

you bite your lip and his gaze narrows down on you, eyes sharp in focus. "hey hey hey beautiful," he whispers, finger tracing your lip where your teeth had left a small pink indent. "whats wrong?"

his tone is too gentle that you hardly recognise that dirty footprints it leaves on your mind. you match his ambigous tone, deciding that this morning was not the morning to get into it. "nothing," you let a small smile rise and press a soft kiss to his lips. "meet me for dinner?" deflection, at its finest.

"sure thing, doll," his lazy drawl comes and flips butterflies in to your stomach all over and you forget the reason why you were ever apprehensive with this almost relationship in the beginning. and then he disappears into the crowd of cadets, throwing a wink over his shoulder and blowing a kiss to the wind.

dinner doesn't come, or it tries to but it's an hour too late and not the way you imagined.

"garrick, wha-" you immediately stand from the wall you've been sitting on for the past sixty minutes. the dining hall closed and to save face from embarrassment of being stood up by the infamous bachelor of bagsiath you decided you'd rather starve than face the smug stares of 'i told you so' from your squad.

he crushes you into a kiss, lips enveloping yours. it comes fiercely and quite aggressively, that you pull back in confusion. your brows furrow and knot with an anger that has enhanced since seeing him. he tries again, this time softer with a small peck to the inner corner of your lips and you stand there dazed. sorry's are mumbled into your skin as he works his way around your face.

"am i fucking missing something?" you scowl, pulling away from him and setting a reasonable amount of distance between the two of you. the chill of the night settles in the middle especially now that the warmth of his skin is missing from yours.

he sighs, eyes apologetic. "i'm sorry baby, i got so caught up in training i couldn't leave."

"you couldn't leave?" you ask slowly and at least he has rhe decency to look bashful. "why do i get the feeling you're not telling me the truth," and if your long awaited question has caught him off guard, he fails to show it.

"why would i hide anything from you?" he looks offended, expression suddenly stiff and guarded. a million thoughts race through your head.

because i'm not marked, because i don't know the pain you've been through. because you've never told me anything about yourself. because you've ran through girls quicker than you've fallen off your dragon and gotten the chance to get back up. and somehow, you've lasted longer than them all by a whopping four months- not that you're counting.

he senses you're deep in over your head and attempts to drag you back out to the present. to where you are now, to him and you. "hey, hey, look at me," he whispers. "i got caught up training and i missed this meal with you. i'm not hiding anything from you, i'm sorry okay?" he holds your hands and stares into your soul.

"okay," its bitter on your tongue but that's what it'll have to be. it's always been this way and it will most likely always be this way because in some oddly weird way you're in love with garrick tavis- and you'll swallow a million okays if it means you'll get pieces of him to yourself, even if its never the whole.

"okay," he whispers back, eyes glinting with a cheeky grin. "now what do you say we get out of here and get some dessert?" the question is dangerous and it dangles in the air. if you're brave enough you'll let it stay there and walk away. but you act with your heart and not your head, letting him whisk you away to his bedroom where only the walls will hear how much he loves you back.

you wake up to an empty bed again and it doesn't surprise you. it doesn't anger you but waters a tree of sadness planted in your chest. you collapse back into his sheets, the smell of him is all over you right now. it's in the air, it's in your hair and on your skin, it's suffocating that you work your signet to move a fresh pair of clothes to you immediately, changing rapidly and running for a breath of fresh air.

you barrel into ridoc on the way back to your room, crashing right into his chest. "can't talk, gotta go," you rush out, back on your feet again darting for your room. the steps are outlined in your brain- it's the only thing you're sure of right now the facts. the facts are that you need to shower, scrub yourself clean, you need to eat, you need to refuel, you need to not be so fucking stupid and make the same mistakes over and over again.

"yn, wait," ridoc calls out and you love your friend you really do but right now you just need a moment to yourself.

you reach your door in an instant, re-warding the entrance as soon as its safe and head straight for the shower. the warm water sends a rush down your bare skin and you scrub away the remenants of last night. you couldn't do this anymore, you think slowly. how long were you going to keep letting him make you feel like pure shit?

but he doesn't, your heart argues. he wasn't this way with anyone else before. you've changed him, you're different, you can fix him if you hold out for a little longer. a silent sob escapes you and you catch it in your hands, holding yourself upright against the cool tiled walls. training is in half an hour and you need to be ready to face actual people. with one last rush of water over your head you reach the surface. it's going to be okay.

it must clearly be your day because when you're called to the mat it is imogen cardulo who stands opposite you. your mind falters at the sight of her and fuck, you think. she's even more gorgeous up close. you know her as a close friend of garrick, and you can count on your fingers the number of times you've been jealous of the pink haired rider who's glare could cut you in half.

you fight, and she's a touch quicker than you. she fights with the edge of someone who's been taught that if you're sharp enough she'll never get cut. and you fight with the strength of someone who constantly has something to prove. she lunges out and knocks a punch into your jaw sending you back a metre with a giant ugly bruise and you retaliate in anger, racing at her and knocking her off her feet entirely.

she grapples and turns you over, you fight for dominance and flip her back over. she's in your hair and then in your ear. "you fight well for his little past-time," and its evil the way her voice seethes and bubbles at your insides. it throws you off for a second at how smug she is and what is that you detect ... jealousy? and thats all she needs. a single second to wrap you in a chokehold and youre confronted with the decision to yield.

gone is all your shame and air from your lungs as you heave out a deep breath. she stands to her feet and brushes you off as if you were just an inconvenience, an obstacle and you roll off the mats slowly and rise to your feet with the help of ridoc.

"bitch," he mutters and you don't hear the curse slip from your friend's lips because you're too focused on anothers.

garrick tavis stands in front of imogen cardulo, his gaze assessing her intently with a certain fondness in his eyes. a fondness you notice in a heartbeat because that's how he used to look at you- or how he looked at you on those specific nights he bared his soul for you to borrow.

he looks as though he might hug her if she didn't look as though she was going to bite her, a scowl etched on to her face. she grits her teeth, says something you can't quite catch and pivots. most likely on her way to the healers.

you do however catch the end of his sentence, "i'll meet you for dinner, you need to fuel up and recharge, tomorrow we train again." and it boils your blood. you step out of ridocs hold and into his direction and garrick stops when he sees you.

as if on some weird twisted instinct he reaches out, itching to cradle your bruised jaw but you visibly flinch and recoil back in disgust.

"you're a fucking joke," you whisper at his cruelty- so that's where he's fucking been and that's who he's chosen to run to. you had been bloodied and bruised and in confirmation of one thing; garrick tavis couldn't even love you at your lowest. you'll always be a second afterthought in his mind and it pains you, especially when he stands at the centre of your universe.

"yn baby-"

"don't call me that," you growl, suddenly aware of your spine. you wince and he reaches out for you again, steadily met with your shoved step backwards. "now i know where your priorities lie and who's clearly good enough to actually be respected and included in your plans," you seethe. "don't fucking talk to me again."

you shove at his chest and he tries to grab your wrist.

"i love-"

"don't you dare finish that sentence," and you let your palm swipe right across his face. it's an act of defiance, youre a cadet who's just assaulted a section leader. the repercussions could be dangerous; yet standing in the shame of your own heartbreak was the worst of them all.

"you don't get to do that. that's not fair

you don't get to use that against me, not when you've never loved me the way i've been loving you. you know something garrick? i pity you," something in your gaze softens ever so slightly that it stills him for a second. "you can't love someone you can't trust, you can't love someone you hide, i dont think you are even capable of loving anyone but yourself," you whisper to him.

he's stunned in silence and you feel triumph rush to your aching temples. you need to get yourself to a healer and fast.

"you're both fucking idiots if you don't realise the way you are with each other and i don't think you're smart enough to realise this yet but when the time comes and you find yourself willing to love someone clearly special to you," you jerk your head in the direction of imogen, no doubt her ears are probably picking up on your conversation. "i hope you have better luck with her or better yet, i hope she runs for the fucking hills like i should have," a scoff leaves your mouth and you get ready to turn and leave.

you've said what you had to do and slowly you'll make your peace.

he reaches out again with a desperate call to your name "yn-" but its ridoc who stops him and you could kiss your best friend right now.

"let her go," his voice is firm and strong, holding the crashing waters at bay. "it's the fucking least you could do." you dont wait to see the giant shadow leave or wait to hear the pained sigh that hits the air.

you limp slowly to the healers, slow enough that ridoc catches up to you in an instant with an arm wrapped around your weighted frame.

"thank you," you whisper and he nods in comfort.

"i've got you, hun. but thank god he stopped, i was afraid he was gonna kick my ass for a second," he breathes a sigh of relief and a laugh escapes you; shooting pain straight into your ribs.

"fuck," ridoc's eyes widen. "it's okay." and for once, you actually believe that it is or at the very least, it will be.

note: i know i said no happy ending but here, have an okay ending instead. tee hee hope u love bc i love u ! 🩷

[lewalrus]

A LONG post about Deadman on DS2

Okay, so as a Deadman fan, I thought I should write my thoughts on him on Death Stranding 2.

As you may imagine, there will be HUGE SPOILERS for the game, so if you haven’t finished it, please, I don’t recommend that you read this post (Be careful with the tags on this post too)

I also should warn you that I will yap about him A LOT because everything this man does is special to me <3

Alright, first of all, it was so weird and at the same time cute as fuck to see Deadman acting all happy and doing little voices on the first cutscene. I think I never saw Deadman laughing and smiling that much as he did on that scene. I really loved seeing him that cheerful!

(Sam genuine tiny smile at Deadman being all silly is going to be the death of me) It makes me sad that we only got to see him with his actual body at the start of the game :/

Anyway, about his discovering that he has a soul, a beach and dooms, I already talked about it on twitter, but I think I’ll elaborate here.

I didn’t like it at all… Not only because him not having a beach in the first game was what made his relationship with the beach concept very unique, since he was the only character that didn’t have a soul. But also because it wasn’t explored at all, it felt forced and completely out of nowhere. I think it would be better if he found out that he has dooms, but his dooms are different from the others and allow him to lend anyone’s beach, even if it’s only for a short amount of time, it could even work with his later plot in the game.

I also would rather if they had explored more the reason why Deadman was even born, it feels like a mystery that could tie very nicely into the Death Stranding universe, I’ve had this thought since the first one, that maybe Deadman was the result of an experiment to create artificial BBs, but it failed because those BBs ended up not having a connection to the beach. But I guess it is what it is. Alright, now I want to talk about, what I consider, the craziest plot twist about him.

DEADMAN WAS RED FUCKING SAMURAI!

As it is also stated on Deadman's entry on Corpus:

(I'll be calling Deadman affectionately "hulking red warrior" from now on)

Since the first time I saw Red Samurai, on the first chapter of the game, I knew Deadman had something to do with it! Honestly, I got pretty obsessed with this idea and started looking at hints on the parts that I already played so I wouldn’t spoil myself.

Needless to say that my head fucking exploded when I rewatched Deadman’s cutscenes and spot a bunch of Red Samurai’s bodies at the background! So maybe that means that Deadman also had created/modified Red Samurai and that it was planned by him to control it, the last part is pretty much canon because he put his body/head inside of it.

(Here, you can see Deadman's size when compared to the hanging bodies, the body under the black blanket is also huge, I believe that's the one Deadman ended up placing his body inside)

And the way it saved and protected Sam multiple times! God, every time Red Samurai showed up I would squeal like a little girl and pray that my theory that it was Deadman was right because I was developing a huge crush on that red warrior lol And oh my god if it wasn’t one of the most romantic things I ever saw, even after death, Deadman was there to save Sam (and the way he played the odradek’s lullaby to Sam after he saved him from Higgs before disappearing, as a way to say “it’s okay, the danger is gone, don’t worry” like Sam used to sooth Lou with the odradek HBUYGHIDBGIYDBGF holy shit I fucking love Deadman.) There’s another detail to it that I found quite peculiar. At some point before we find out that Deadman can possess Heartman too, Rainy makes this post on the social media of the game:

I didn’t really get it back then, but when I found out that Deadman has been using Heartman’s body during the 3 minutes that he is dead, everything made sense! It was Deadman using the VR training room but with Heartman’s body, that’s why Heartman doesn’t remember doing that training at all! So that means that Deadman is secretly super tough? Because apparently Deadman can fight very well even on a weaker body (at least if we compare Heartman to Red Samurai).

Makes me really wish that with the “making short work of them with his expert use of the katana” part of the Corpus’ entry is actually talking about Deadman’s skills with the katana, not the Red Samurai’s body skills. Maybe I’m just seeing things, but when I compare Red Samurai’s performance under Deadman’s control with it’s performance under Higgs’ control, the Red Samurai looks way more clumsy and weaker with Higgs than when it was with Deadman. The reason can very much be because while Deadman was controlling it, Red Samurai’s performance was only for scripted cutscenes, so he could be very tough to fight, but when it was under Higgs’ control, it was a fight that the game expected the player to win, so they made him weaker and easier, but I digress. After finishing the game and looking back into it, especially Deadman’s cutscenes, I think there was some more hints about him being Red Samurai, like Deadman’s ugly red tie (I’m sorry, it just doesn’t look well with his red shirt skajsia) and the scene where he plays with two finger puppets, maybe they were hinting that he would be able to use Heartman and Red Samurai as puppets later.

I honestly love the addition that Deadman is a fighter, but I think that as everything they added to him on the second game, it also should have been more explored, maybe even with some entries on the Corpus. Like, does Deadman can fight since always or he learned that during the months between DS1 and DS2? I really like to think that he learned to fight with the katana on his youth, but ended up putting the training aside to pursue a medical career, and that means that, on Cliff’s battlefield, he could have fought against Cliff to protect Lou instead of running away, but the only reason he didn’t was because very unfortunately he didn’t have a katana with him at the moment LOL (sounds hilarious in my head, sorry)

Anyway, I want to let you all know that I’ll be spamming this fandom with fanarts of Deadman with a katana because HOLY FUCK THAT MAKES DEADMAN EVEN HOTTER sikahsiasjasiuahs

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 09.

ꕥ part 01. | part 02. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05.| part 06. | part 07. | part 08. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, kinda graphic description of the crime, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, if there are other warnings or tags i should add let me know ꕥ word count: ~3.2k ꕥ small author's note: things are definitely happening ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

thursday

The next day rolled around quicker than you would’ve liked. This time, you shared a room with JJ and Emily, one of them was already in the shower. Or at least, you really hoped that it was one of the women and not some random intruder because you were sure that if it was the second possibility, then this room would turn into a crime scene too. You groaned while you reached for your phone to turn off the annoying alarm, with your eyes still closed. Last night you fell asleep much harder than you usually did, for one simple reason. Your mind was a mess. You were circling back to the scenes, both on the beach and the Moore residence. You listed the evidence and silently debated against yourself. You tried to assure yourself that presenting your opinion on the case was the right thing to do, but the building anxiety and doubt felt like it was suffocating you. You would’ve enjoyed a different kind of choking much more, if you had to be honest.

Which led to the second reason of your sleeplessness. I mean… not the choking exactly, but at the same time, it was related to your problem. What the fuck was up with you and your recent behaviour around the genius!? Yes, there was an ongoing race between you to see who can make the other more flustered—at least that’s how you saw it—, but then why did your heartrate elevate even when it was you who tried to “one up” your co-worker?

With a sigh, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. Three hours of sleep. You’ll be functioning on three hours of sleep today. That could only mean two moods. You’ll be either hyperactive or a walking-talking danger to society. Occasionally these mixed.

Half an hour later you stepped out of the hotel room. JJ already left, she was following up with Chocolate Thunder on some leads regarding the seal skin, which turned out to be an extremely high-quality costume. Luckily, no animals were hurt. Emily was waiting for Hotch and Rossi, they were continuing to take the statements of family and friends, however, since it turned out overnight that the human remains in the sink and the plumbing system were from Jeremy Moore, they had to start over with almost every person.

“Good…” you mumbled while your eyes were pasted on the bright screen of your phone. A small smile was plastered on your face while you looked at all the pictures of your cats, sent by Penelope, who was often house-sitting when you went away for longer periods of time. This smile disappeared quicker than some fathers, when you raised your gaze and saw that not only Spencer, but Chief Miller was also waiting at the door. “…morning.”

“Morning.” nodded Reid while he handed you a cup of coffee. That alone brightened your mood, and you reached for it with shining eyes.

“Oh my God, thank you.”

“Good morning, agent.” opened his mouth the other man which immediately ruined everything. “I’ve decided to personally oversee your investigation; we will be working together until the case is closed.”

“To oversee?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Precisely. I’ll be transparent, agents. This little theory that you’re investigating and spending resources on seems dumb. I cannot dictate what the BAU does or doesn’t do, however I can and will handle how the media sees things. Last thing I need is being ridiculed for following some random mythology.”

Yeah, and the last thing I want is a man, bitching and whining about everything I do, but here we are. You wanted to say this, or something close to this, but you bit your tongue and with a forced smile you said, “Awesome.”

By the look in Reid’s eyes, you guessed he already went through this with the chief earlier. He was pissed. You could tell by his clenched jaw and phlegmatic expression. And while he was hot like this, you knew that this day will definitely be harder than usual.

Fewer things were more awkward than being cramped up in a small lift with two men. One of them was unapologetically unsympathetic, the other one’s presence was doing something to you that you didn’t quite understand. This day was rapidly getting worse and worse, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock.

When you reached the underground parking lot of the hotel, you were silently debating where you should sit and soon decided that one of the backseats would be the best option. Sitting next to any of the two would’ve been uncomfortable for different reasons, and on top of that you thought that Miller would want to sit in the front, making him feel important.

As you opened the backdoor on the right side of the vehicle, you felt a warm, rather big hand on your lower back.

“Don’t even think about it, you’re sitting next to me.” the man behind you lowered his head so that his lips could be next to your ear as he assertively pushed you forward, and with his other hand he shut close the slightly opened door. His warm breath hit your neck, sending shivers down your whole body. Your brain short-circuited and your breath hitched, so much so that you were sure the genius noticed it too. Reid’s raspy voice in your ear, his cologne, his closeness, his hand on your back… His fucking hand, which immediately led your mind to an entirely different direction.

“Khm… What?” your not so intelligent reaction came seconds later, as soon as you were able to swallow your saliva and gather yourself just enough.

“I’m not driving one and a half hour with him on my side. Now sit.” When you silently complied, since you couldn’t really think of anything else to do—hells, you couldn’t really think at all—, a satisfied little smirk appeared on his face and before closing the door after you, he said “Good girl.”

For the first third of the ride, you went silent. The obvious blush on your cheeks made Spencer feel good, satisfied. While he sat behind the wheel and followed the instructions of the navigator, you were deep in your thoughts.

What the actual fuck is up with him calling me a good girl!? No, better yet, what the actual fuck is up with him generally!? You were really confused. One moment he openly disses you, your ideas and theories, challenging you whenever there’s an opening, next moment he’s doing things like this. In your mind, the only working explanation was still that he wanted to make you look less professional by these stunts he occasionally pulled, and you weren’t having it. You had to up your game. You can also play dirty. You won’t, under any circumstances, lose against him.

Hours later, as the full moon filled your hotel room with a moderate amount of light, you were getting ready to head out with the others. Nothing big, obviously. The case was nowhere near close to being solved. Reid, Miller and you discovered the first victim’s, Ruby Brown’s husband’s body. He was sedated and buried alive in their garden. You also found the scene where Ruby was probably skinned and sewed into the seal skin, this time it was in the garage. You spent the rest of the day there, investigating almost every single dust particle that you came across. It was tiring, truly. That’s why Derek asked if anyone’s up for some beers. Everyone was worn down, so letting some steam out seemed a good idea.

So, you were putting on clothes that you knew complimented your shape. You didn’t go overboard; you knew it better. It was just one, maybe two beers with your closest friends who also happened to be your colleagues. Still, you made sure to dress casual and hot. Jeans and a tank top with laced edges that fit your curves perfectly. You knew you were able to turn some heads if you wanted to, and today you wanted to. Reid isn’t the only one who can act all hot and sexy.

You met up at a small bar that was at the corner of the block in front of the hotel. Most of the team was already there but you fucked up your eyeliner a tiny bit, so it took longer for you to get ready.

“Mm, I didn’t think you’d be here, boss.” you said to the stoic man seated next to you. Hotch let out a small scoff and took a sip of his cold beverage.

“Oh, I think after Miller, it would’ve been weirder if he didn’t join.” commented Emily.

“That’s not really an excuse today when we were the ones to spend 12 fucking hours with him.” you said immediately. Spencer was sitting in front of you, at the other exit of the booth that felt a bit cramped with all of you there, but this made the whole thing better. JJ almost had to sit in Emily’s lap—you were sure that the brunette would’ve enjoyed it more than anything right now—, but you made it work. It just meant that all your thighs were constantly in contact.

Reid’s eyes quickly assessed your figure. He tried to be smooth with it, but you were looking for his reaction. When his gaze met yours—after a not so discreet tour of your whole fit—, he looked a bit like a deer in headlights. You smirked, tilted your head slightly and raised your brows as a silent “You like what you see?” question. He swallowed, his sharp Adam’s apple lifting up and down, then, without any further reaction, turned away.

“Well, he read through the statements we took today. Said half of the questions we asked were a waste of time.” Rossi, like the sassy old man he was, rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“He also criticized everything we did at the Brown residence too. It was pretty annoying.” joined in the genius. “I was so close to telling him off.”

“Mmm, I highly doubt it.” you said with a sly little smirk and a teasing tone as you leaned forward.

“And why exactly is that?” he asked, copying your body language.

“Isn’t it obvious, Spencer? You aren’t exactly someone who’d go against authority. At the end of the day, you’ll always follow orders and do what you’re told, no?”

Reid narrowed his eyes. “Interesting you say that, when you’re the one who’s been so obediently following my orders.”

Aaand you’ve just accidentally dug your own grave. “Khm… You aren’t special. I’m an agent, it’s part of my job to do that.”

Luckily, as soon as they sensed that your usual bickering is about to happen, the rest of the team got absorbed in their own conversations, making this less embarrassing for you. By now, you were almost face to face as you challenged each other.

“Mhm, is it also part of your job to go all red and hot while you do what you’re told? Because I don’t see you acting like that with anyone else.”

Oh, how badly you wanted to smack that smug little grin off his face. He was making you flustered once again, which wasn’t really working out for you, and had no idea for a smart comeback.

Soon, the team’s first round of beer was gone, and you saw this as an opening to put a pause on whatever was going on at the table. You decided to pay for everyone’s refill tonight. Since you were sitting at the left exit of the booth, you easily stood up and took your way towards the bar, followed by none other than the man who was continuously dancing on your nerves. He said he’d help with bringing back the drinks, since he was conveniently seated at the other exit. But to be honest, he was simply enjoying things way too much to stop there.

No matter how many times he agreed with himself to get his shit together and handle you with indifference, he always slipped. The occasional flirting and the constant attempts to make each other more and more flustered than last time was thrilling. He tried lying to himself and say that he didn’t enjoy the atmosphere that you created. But he did.

So, now he was following you, sticking close to your back. You excused this. Seeing how crowded the place was, it was obvious that he wouldn’t want to get separated, considering how much he hated contact with unknown people.

When you reached the bar to place your order, it was so full of people that only you were able to stand directly at the wooden furniture. He stood behind you, your bodies almost pressed together.

You looked good, leaning on the counter while you were waiting for the bartender to refill the empty glasses. When a random man on your right, who was definitely far from sober, tried to wiggle closer to you, to which you were quite oblivious at the time, Spencer instinctively placed his hand on the counter. He was smooth with it, like he was only doing this for his own balance.

Being caged between his arms sent shivers down on your whole body. You were hoping that the dim mood lights and your hair covered the blush that kept creeping up on your neck, cheeks and ears. It wasn’t fair that he was able to get such reactions out of you, while you didn’t really have a win today, so, rather impulsively, you turned.

With your bodies this close together, now it was his turn to get flustered. For a fracture of a second, he forgot how to breath. The proximity of your chest, the way you had to tilt upwards your head to be able to keep eye contact, and the playful, almost daring look on your face made him crazy.

He slightly leaned forward, pressing his upper body to yours and lowering his head, while he swallowed. While you got lost in each other’s eyes, everything around you became a blur. The lame pub music got mixed with the noise of the crowd, becoming a mass.

There wasn’t a logical, rational thought in Spencer’s mind, which was a first.

You wanted to say something, wanted to tease him, but couldn’t. Not when he looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time, carefully taking in every single detail of you. Not when you saw him unintentionally lick his lips as he glanced at yours. Not when…

“Here’s your order. Cash or card?” the bartender’s strong voice broke the tension. You cleared your throat as you turned back to face the man, but before you could’ve paid for the beers, Spencer reached forward and handed him his own card.

You went silent for the rest of the night, the both of you. You were confused, couldn’t really explain what happened in those few moments. Around ten minutes later you decided to call it a night. The others still had some beer left, but you felt like you had to get out of there. You needed some air, because the whole day felt suffocating. This past month’s constant pushing and pulling drove you up the wall. So, you excused yourself.

The others would’ve left the pub with you, if it weren’t for Derek, insisting on staying a bit longer. He said it would be a crime to rush a quality beer. In reality, he was the only one from the team to witness what was going down between the geniuses, and he wanted to give you a chance to finish what you’ve started.

“Come on, pretty boy, be a gentleman and walk our girl home.”

“There is no need-” you shook your head, but Reid was already standing up without a word. Awesome.

The quick walk back to the hotel was quiet. None of you knew what to say exactly. Should you address the things from before? But what is there to address exactly? Was what going on between the two of you was still a game that you took a bit too seriously, because none of you knew how to lose?

You were already in the hallway, in front of the door of your room when you first spoke. “Uhm… Good n-”

You turned towards the man at the same time he stepped closer to you. For a passing moment, his face was telling a tale of an inner battle, but it was quickly replaced by a look of determination. He took one larger breath and reached for your wrist.

“What-?”

With a strong, calculated move, he pulled you closer to him. He placed his right arm around your waist, holding you firmly in one place as he initiated eye contact. His usually sweet, warm irises were clouded with something darker. Anger, irritation, maybe lust? You couldn’t tell.

“You…” he said, his voice came out as a raspy whisper. “…are making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Without wasting any more time, his soft lips crashed onto yours. For a second, you stood there, frozen, your eyes filled with disbelief, but then you kissed him back. You couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was an impulsive decision, maybe months of pent-up frustration. You didn’t know. All you knew is that it felt good.

When your eyes closed and he felt your lips joining his in a heated dance, he let your wrist go and moved his free hand up to your face, while with his right arm he tried to pull you closer, even tho your bodies were already pressed together as much as possible.

He carefully caressed your flushed skin, as if he was afraid that one wrong move and this moment will shatter. His hand started to wonder south. First to your chin, then to your neck, to which you sucked the air in deeper. Your reaction caused him to smile into your kiss, and while he gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your neck, he also tugged on your lower lip. You immediately gave him permission to enter, your mind way too hazy to think straight. When your tongues met, he let out a long, slightly shaky breath. Up until now, he had no idea how much he craved this. Craved you.

His hold on your neck tightened as the kiss got more and more heated and less and less quiet while he pushed you to the wall. You placed one of your hands on his chest and with your other hand, you started playing with his hair.

As suddenly as he initiated, he broke the kiss. He pulled away. He ran his gaze through you, took in the sight of your shining eyes, your plump, reddened lips that was glistening from both of your saliva, and how his hand was perfectly fitting around your neck. Then, without saying anything, he left you there, in the silent, dim hallway, with your thoughts rushing.

thank you again for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! i really really hope you enjoy where this story is going ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ taglist: @halfbloodwriter @starrystormwritings @kspencer34 @maisyyyyyy @theseerbetweenus @throwaway-things @pleasantwitchgarden divider from @cafekitsune

[fredswrite]

SUMMARY: After the night at the bar, you had had enough of waiting for James. You got the call from Ray, your car was ready to be picked up, but was James ready?

A/N: This is part 3 of the series, hope you like it and comments and reposts are appreciated!! Tell me if you want to be added to the tags list.

WC: 1.8k

WARNING: None, just some kissing and tension

MLST part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

ONE NIGHT STAND

The phone rang in the early afternoon, unknown number, area code local. You almost didn’t pick up.

But something inside you said to answer. Hope, maybe. Or habit.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Ray from the shop. The Civic’s ready for pickup.”

Your hand tightened around the phone. “Oh. Great. Thanks.”

A beat.

“We replaced the terminals and battery,” Ray added. “No charge.”

You blinked. “Wait… what?”

“Yeah. You’ll want to talk to Kelly about that,” he muttered like it was a topic he’d rather not touch. “Anyway. We’re open ‘til six.”

Click.

The line went dead.

You stared at your phone for a long moment, heart thumping for reasons that had nothing to do with a car battery.

James had fixed it.

And didn’t charge you.

Why?

You told yourself it didn’t matter, but you were already halfway to your keys.

The garage looked the same, run-down, industrial, reeking of engine oil and sweat. The kind of place that didn’t try to impress anyone. You pulled into the lot slowly, nerves pressing against your ribs like a too-tight seatbelt. You had borrowed your friend car for the day, groceries still in the back.

Your car was parked out front, sparkling clean. Someone had washed it.

Inside, the shop was quieter than usual. The younger guy at the counter gave you a nod but didn’t say much. Just pointed to the clipboard and gestured toward the back.

That was when you saw him.

James.

Leaning against the far wall, wiping oil from his hands with a rag. He looked tired. The kind of tired that sits behind the eyes, worn-in and familiar. His hair was a mess, shirt rumpled, a fresh grease stain across the chest.

And yet he still made your stomach flip the way no one else ever had.

He didn’t look surprised to see you. Didn’t move toward you, either. You walked up, your boots scuffing the concrete.

He met your eyes.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey.”

You stared at him. “You fixed my car.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t charge me.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

He was silent a long time. Then:

“Because I owed you.”

Your heart jumped, even though you tried to stay grounded.

“Is that why you disappeared?” you asked. “Guilt?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not guilt.”

“Then what?”

James exhaled and tossed the rag aside. His shoulders were tense, jaw tight. You could tell this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about in the middle of a workday. But he didn’t walk away.

“I’m not good at this,” he said finally.

“At what?” you asked.

He looked down. “At… relationships. At wanting someone and not ruining it.”

You waited. Let him find the words.

“I’ve messed up a lot,” he said. “Not just normal stuff. Big stuff. Criminal record. Felony charges. Time served. You name it.”

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t move.

He met your gaze again, eyes dark and unreadable. “I know I don’t look it now, but a couple years back… I was the kind of guy your friends would’ve told you to stay away from.”

You said nothing.

He continued, voice low. “The first time I saw you—that night, I told myself it was just gonna be one time. No names. No trouble. You looked at me like you saw something clean, and I couldn’t stand the idea of you knowing what I’d done.”

You stepped closer. Not much. Just enough that your presence told him you weren’t running.

“You didn’t give me the chance to know you,” you said.

“I was scared of what you’d do if you did.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

Your heart beat louder.

“You don’t think I’ve made mistakes?” you asked, voice sharper than you meant. “You think you’re the only one who’s afraid of getting it wrong?”

His throat worked, like he was trying not to say something stupid. Or maybe something too honest.

“I thought disappearing would protect you from getting involved with someone like me,” he said.

You gave a bitter laugh. “Well, you’re about a month too late for that, James.”

He looked up.

And for the first time since all this started, you saw it—regret, clear and deep. Not pity. Not fear.

Just a man who had kept his hands off everything good in his life because he didn’t think he deserved to hold it.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he said softly. “Not once.”

You swallowed hard. The tension between you rose like heat off the pavement.

“You could’ve told me all this before.”

“I didn’t know how.”

“Then show me,” you said.

He stepped closer.

You felt it before he even touched you—the pull, the hum beneath your skin. You stood still, letting him close the space.

One of his hands came up, hovering just beside your jaw, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure if he could touch you.

You looked up at him.

“James,” you whispered.

He bent slightly, breath brushing your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question came out like gravel—raw, uncertain.

You didn’t speak. You just nodded because words couldn’t find you.

He didn’t kiss you like a man trying to prove something. He kissed you like a man trying to remember what it felt like to feel.

It started slow—careful, like he was checking to make sure you were still breathing. Your hands found his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as his lips moved over yours. His mouth was warm, rough, and so damn familiar it made your chest ache.

The kiss deepened before either of you realized it. His hand slid around the back of your neck, pulling you in. You parted your lips, and he kissed you like he was trying to make up for every second he’d stayed silent. Like it hurt him to stop.

Your back bumped the side of a tool chest. He caught you with a hand at your waist, gentle but firm.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, breath unsteady, eyes darker than before.

You were both quiet. Still close. Still too wired to pretend this was nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For before. For all of it.”

“I’m not asking you to be perfect,” you said.

“I just don’t wanna be another bad decision.”

“You’re not,” you whispered. “But you could be… if you walk away again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. His handwriting was uneven, slanted—all caps.

He handed it to you without a word.

You unfolded it. Just a name, James, and a number. No logo. No shop info. Just him.

“I didn’t give you this before because I didn’t trust myself not to screw it up,” he said. “Now I’d rather you have it and never use it than keep wondering.”

You folded the paper and slid it into your pocket like it meant something.

Because it did.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

James nodded. His eyes didn’t leave yours.

You turned toward the door, but this time, you paused halfway out. Then looked back.

“I’m gonna call,” you said.

A flicker of a smile touched his mouth. “I’ll be waiting.”

You texted your friends, telling her her car was at the shop and walked into your now almost brand new Civic.

TAGS: @haydenchristensenisbae @f1wh0recom @boydepartment @anon-188

[crimsonicons]

330 icons of Ballister Boldheart from Nimona

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[bumfuzzled-bee]

Pat pat.

[atalienart]

✧*:･ﾟArt summary 2024

2014-2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021

[zincfingermotif]

and then you wake up

[im-smart-i-swear]

some lore. this may all change lol im still figuring stuff out but this is the general gist

[marinecorvid]

blorbos from my brain

[eeriedragone]

Here are (most of) the frames!

(can they be called frames if there's no animation?)

Idk guys, happy Valentine's day???

Digital Affection - The Orion Experience

[ramonathinks]

tags: older reader x younger satoru gojo, squirting, slight overstimulation, oral (f), smut | gojo satoru

note: i actually don’t like this fr but lol

you’ve never had a real orgasm. not at all in your almost 33 years. no man has ever even almost got you there. but you didn’t know that, you thought you had one before. feeling a bit good and then the feeling disappeared. you were… satisfied maybe? but it was always like this with guys your age.

so you knew why it was different with satoru. but man, it was different. really different.

he was 6’7, had a pretty long and girthy cock between his legs and always had a goofy smile on his face. he was 25 and for some reason… he was interested in you, instead of the younger and presumably prettier girls in the office.

from the moment he transferred to your department, he was in your face and trying to get your attention. it was always something with him — picking up some coffee for you, walking you to your car, and flirting.

it was always something small… a whisper in the ear to praise you for the good job on your presentation or a hand on your lower back.

it was supposed to only be dinner. yet here you are, with him in your bed and his mouth on your cunt.

“you’re delicious.” he mutters, lapping at your folds, stretching your lips open so he can get every bit of wetness spilling out of you. he was avoiding your flit, getting closer and closer before he moved away to focus elsewhere. kissing the trail of wetness on your thighs or dipping his tongue back inside of you. your stomach clenched and you could feel more wetness spilling out and that’s when his lips met your clit — a tiny kiss before he rubbed his face into you and sucked hard enough to make your toes curl.

he can barely wait anymore, he climbs off the bed before removing the last layer of his clothing and rubbing his aching leaking cock against your folds. pushing in, you both moan.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his hips back and forth, inching himself in. he’s holding back, seeing your face twist between pain and pleasure.

“please i—” your brain is fuzzy and feels like mush, you can barely think. he’s so big and just from what’s inside, he’s close to digging you out.

“shhh… you don’t have to beg senpai. i’ll give it to you right now,” his face is still wet with your juices as he speaks and he releases a short moan feeling you around him. “feels so good already—” he says.

pulling himself al the way out just to slam back inside of you, before he slows down so you can feel every inch of him. speeding his pace so his tip can just almost touch a spot that you never had touched before… a spot you didn’t know existed, but knowing that he was close to something and feeling it .. did something to you

“sator—ahh!” your thighs are shaking and you feels big pressure in your insides that make you try to move him off of you. “i feel like ‘m going to…” he’s slamming into you with one hand on your clit as if he knows what you’re going to say.

a squirt of wetness flows as he keeps moving inside of you and you can see that wetness on his lower half but he doesn’t seem to mind it; his face is in pure bliss as he stares back into your eyes. he pushes on your stomach more, more wetness leaking onto your sheets. your eyes are rolled back but he grips your thighs and forces you to sit on top of him.

“can’t-”

“but you will, right… for me, senpai?” and it was something about him calling you senpai again that made you squirt more uncontrollably, splashing more than just a stream. he grabs your ass and grips it hard, pulling you up and down his cock. your insides tightened around him and you unconsciously rolled your hips a few times.

you could feel a wave of everything washing over you, his cock hitting a different part deep inside you, which made your back snap and you wrap your legs around him even more, cumming in his lap with a big moan; a mixture of both cream and squirt soaking his lap.

“i’ll make sure you never forget who made you cum this hard.” he kisses you, grabbing your jaw so that you can open your mouth before he spits in your mouth and you groan, sinking your nails into his back.

you wake up late, almost in the middle of the afternoon, wrapped in your sheets and satoru gone. you aren’t so surprised but you put your robe on and walk down the stairs.

you hear talking or a bit of arguing.

“listen kid, im not leaving my daughters with you. now tell me—” you freeze at the voice of your ex and you see a fuming satoru.

“no you listen—”

holding the robe even more tightly together, you walk towards the two men to make your presence known. “c’mon girls, there’s food on the table.” your daughters race to the kitchen.

“wait babe, i made that for us—” you shoot him a stare and satoru shuts his mouth.

“thanks for dropping them off, have a good day.” you shut the door and sigh. “why didn’t you wake me?”

“i tried but you were so worn out. i guess i overdone it…”

“you guess? i never came in my life and you…” you whispered, feeling dizzy thinking about last night.

“let’s get you something to eat.”

[guliexe]

━━━PROVE ME WRONG 18+

Yang Jungwon x Female!Reader

.ᐟwarnings/tags: enemies to lovers, soft dom!jungwon, needy!reader, making out, dry humping, dirty talk, praising, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, p in v, squirting, crying, confessing, reader is so down bad for him loool

♡ you swore you hated him, until he made you feel everything you tried to deny.

.ᐟwc: 6.5k

You’ve been in the same friend group as Jungwon for almost a year now. It wasn’t a choice, really, he just came with the package. A friend of a friend who started showing up to things so regularly it was impossible to avoid him. House parties, movie nights, random hangouts at someone’s apartment. He’d be there, always leaning against a wall or sunk into a couch, quiet and sharp-eyed like he was waiting for something to irritate him. And for some reason, that something is always you. You’re not sure when it started. The bickering, the looks, the weird tension that’s too constant to be harmless. Sometimes you think he enjoys getting under your skin. Sometimes you’re afraid you do, too. It’s not like you’re friends. You talk, but only to annoy each other. You stand near each other, but never too close. He’ll brush your arm when passing behind you, or press a hand to your waist like he’s just trying to get by, but you know it lingers longer than it should. He knows it, too.

He’s cocky. Always calm. The type who never has to raise his voice to make you feel like you’re losing. And you—you act tough. You roll your eyes, talk back, call him names that make your friends laugh. But it’s a mask. Because deep down, your stomach flips every time he looks at you. Your mouth dries up when he stands too close. Your brain scrambles when his voice drops too low. You pretend it’s nothing. That it doesn’t matter. That you don’t go home after nights out and touch yourself to the thought of him—his face, his voice, his fingers on your skin, telling you you’re doing so good for him. You hate him. You want him. You don’t know the difference anymore. And tonight, it’s getting harder to hide.

You stand in front of your mirror, twisting the strap of your top around your finger like it’s a lifeline. The room’s warm, but your skin feels electric—like you’re waiting for something you can’t say out loud. You’re not sure why tonight feels different. It’s just a party. Maybe it’s the way your heart races when you think about him. Maybe it’s the way your hands tremble just a little when you smooth your hair one last time. Or maybe it’s the faint hope that he’ll actually notice you tonight. Not the usual glare or sharp glance, but something else. Something softer. Something real. You pull on your jacket, catch your reflection again, and force yourself to stop overthinking. You’re not the shy girl everyone thinks you are. You’re the one who talks back, who laughs too loud, who acts like she doesn’t care. Right?

You step inside, weaving through the crowd with your friends close behind, the heavy bass reverberating through the floor. The house is packed, voices mixing with laughter and the clinking of bottles. The smell of sweat, perfume, and something faintly like alcohol fills the air. Your eyes scan automatically, and there he is—Jungwon, standing near the far wall, one foot propped against it casually. His dark eyes lock onto yours immediately, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips like he knows exactly the effect he has on you. For a second, it feels like the room shrinks around you. The noise dulls. Your heart kicks a little harder in your chest, but you refuse to let it show. You adjust your skirt and pretend not to notice the way his eyes are still on you. Pretend your breath isn’t catching and your skin isn’t buzzing just from the sight of him, leaned back like he owns the whole place. Your friends disappear into the crowd ahead of you, heading for the drinks table, but you linger, like you always do. Like you can’t help yourself. And of course, it only takes him a few steps to close the distance. He always does this—finds you. He just appears, quiet and intentional. “Wow,” he says, low and slow, voice brushing against your skin like velvet. “You actually made an effort tonight.” You roll your eyes, but your heart stutters. “Is that your idea of a compliment?” He shrugs, looking amused. “Take it however you want.”

You huff, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. “Don’t worry. I won’t start dressing up just for you.” His eyes flick down your figure, slow and obvious. “Shame.” You scoff, turning your head so he doesn’t see the way your face warms, but his hand brushes against your waist as someone passes behind you, and again, it lingers. Barely a second too long. “Watch it,” you mutter. He leans a fraction closer. “You didn’t move.” You open your mouth to fire back, but before you can say anything, someone calls your name from across the room. “Guys come sit with us!” Jungwon smirks at you one last time, then walks off without another word, hands tucked in his pockets like he’s not leaving you absolutely burning. The group’s gathered in the living room now—bodies crammed onto couches and sprawled on the carpet with drinks in hand. The lights are dimmed and colorful. You’re curled up between your friends on one of the couches, legs crossed, a drink balanced in your hand. The music has softened a little now that everyone’s packed into the living room, cushions stolen off the couch and dragged to the floor. Jungwon’s across the room, lounging half-sunk into the armchair with a half-empty red cup in one hand and his other arm draped lazily over the back of the seat. He looks calm, bored even, but you know him well enough to catch the spark behind that disinterested expression. He’s watching. Waiting. You try not to let your eyes linger.

Someone suggests Truth or Dare, and it only takes a few cheers and clinks of drinks for it to begin. It starts light, somebody takes a shot, another confesses a secret crush on someone’s older brother, and then someone gets dared to kiss the person to their left, and the room tips into something more teasing and charged. You’re half-laughing at that when someone goes, “Okay—your turn,” and points to one of the girls across the circle. She looks around, eyes sparkling, clearly scheming. She hums, then smirks. “I’ve got one. For you—” she says, eyes landing directly on Jungwon. “And you,” she adds, turning to you. Immediately, the room perks up. Jungwon raises an eyebrow, not moving, but you can feel the attention shift. Your spine straightens slightly. “I dare you two,” the girl says, grinning now, “to sit in front of each other and hold eye contact for a minute. No breaking it. No laughing.” Groans and excited gasps ripple through the circle. “Yes. Yes. That’s so them,” someone says. “Bro, no way,” you say quickly, but there’s already movement in the room. Someone scoots a pillow onto the floor between the couch and the armchair. “Scared?” Jungwon’s voice cuts through the chatter. His tone is calm, as always, but there’s a flicker of challenge under it. His eyes meet yours, unreadable. “You don’t have to if you’re already feeling weak.” You roll your eyes. “You’re not that intimidating, Jungwon.” “Prove it,” he says.

Your heart knocks against your ribs, but you don’t let it show. With a dramatic sigh, you uncross your legs and push yourself off the couch, brushing invisible lint off your skirt like this is no big deal. It is. But you won’t let him know that. The circle shifts slightly to make room as you move toward the center, sitting cross-legged on the pillow they placed, facing Jungwon. He’s already there, sitting lazy and cool on the floor like he’s got all the time in the world. His knee brushes against yours when he adjusts his posture, and you resist the urge to pull back. Someone sets a timer. “Sixty seconds,” they say. “Starting now.” The room quiets into a low hum as your eyes meet his. He’s close, closer than he usually allows himself to be in front of others. His expression is unreadable, but his gaze is steady, intense, locked on you like it’s a test and he’s already sure he’ll win. At first, it’s just kind of funny. You raise a brow, challenge him silently. His lip quirks, like he’s daring you to break. You don’t. But as the seconds pass, something shifts. His stare sharpens. Not cruel. Just focused. Curious, even. Like he’s studying you. You don’t blink. You try not to squirm. But there’s heat crawling up your neck, prickling under your skin. The sound of your own breathing starts to feel too loud. You’re aware of everything—how close his knees are to yours, how heavy his gaze feels, how your hands are clenched in your lap to keep from fidgeting. “Thirty seconds,” someone mutters. Halfway.

You swallow, and his eyes follow the movement of your throat. You can tell. You hate that you can tell. “Didn’t think it’d be this easy to shut you up,” he murmurs, barely loud enough for you to hear. Your breath hitches, but you don’t answer. “Your cheeks are red.” “They’re not.” “They are.” He leans in a little—not enough for the others to notice, but enough for you to feel his breath on your face. “It’s cute,” he says. You almost flinch. Almost. But you force yourself to stay still. “You talk too much.” “And you stare too much.” You go rigid, caught. His smile widens slightly, lazy and infuriating. “Ten seconds,” someone calls out. You’re barely breathing. His eyes haven’t left yours for a second, and you swear something in your chest is about to combust. The final seconds pass in silence, and when someone finally yells, “Time!” you tear your eyes away like you’ve been slapped. People cheer, laugh, someone throws a pillow, but you don’t say anything. You just rise to your feet quickly, brushing your hands against your thighs. Your skin feels too hot, like the air around you is thicker than it was before. Jungwon doesn’t stand up right away. He just looks at you from where he’s still seated, that smirk back on his face. You return to your seat between your friends, trying to act like you’re totally fine, like your heart isn’t racing and your thighs aren’t pressed together tightly. The game keeps going, but your mind is still tangled in that look, his voice, the heat in your cheeks. Eventually, the game peters out into casual conversation, music growing a little louder again as people get distracted. Some are passing around a joint, others talking over one another, half-curled up on couches or the floor.

You laugh at someone’s joke. Sip from your cup. Try to shake it off. But you can still feel him, like his gaze hasn’t left you all night. After a while, you decide to get some air—or something to drink. Anything to ground yourself. You slip away from the group after a while, mumbling something about needing a drink. No one really notices. The kitchen is quieter, the thrum of music muffled through the walls. You open the fridge, grabbing the juice bottle and pouring it into a red plastic cup with shaky fingers. You don’t know why your hands are trembling. You blame the heat. The alcohol. Him. You’re halfway through your drink when you hear footsteps behind you. “You always run off when I show up.” You don’t have to turn to know it’s Jungwon. You stare down into your cup and exhale through your nose before speaking. “You’re not that important.” He scoffs from behind you. “Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time I’m near you?” You spin, eyes narrowed. “Why are you even here? Are you following me now?” “I came for a drink,” he says, tone clipped. “Didn’t realize I’d find you hiding in here like a coward.” Your mouth drops open. “A coward?” “You heard me.” “You’re unbelievable,” you snap, setting your cup down harder than necessary. “You show up to everything I’m at, pick fights for no reason, and then act like I’m the problem.” “Maybe you are.” That stuns you into silence for a second. You blink at him, your chest tightening. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He steps closer, not quite yelling, but louder than you’ve ever heard him. “You act like nothing matters. Like you’re too good to care. But you do. You care so much it makes you fucking twitchy every time I walk into the room.” You laugh bitterly. “You’re projecting.” He doesn’t smile. “You act like you don’t see me. Like I’m not in the room unless you want someone to argue with. And the second I push back, you act like I’ve done something wrong.” “Because you’re mean,” you hiss. “You look at me like you hate me. You talk to me like you hate me.” “Maybe I do,” he says—fast, harsh.

The words hit like a slap. You stare at him. Something cracks under your ribs, and before you can stop it, you feel it—anger rushing up, quick and sharp and choking.“Then stay the fuck away from me.” You shove past him, shoulder catching his as you storm down the hall and up the stairs, heart pounding loud enough to drown out the music. You don’t stop until you’re in your friend’s room, door shut behind you, and you collapse on the bed. Your chest heaves. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold it together. You’re lying on your back, arms spread, staring blankly at the ceiling of your friend’s room. The pillow underneath you smells faintly like her perfume, soft and familiar, but it doesn’t help. You’re hot with frustration, and your chest still feels too tight. You’ve been up here for twenty minutes now, shoes kicked off, makeup probably smudged from pressing your hands over your face. You’re angry—at him, at yourself, at how everything with Jungwon always seems to spiral out of control. You don’t realize you’re about to fall asleep until you hear the knock. A soft, single tap on the door. Then a pause. And a quiet creak as it opens. You blink hard, sitting up just slightly. And of course—it’s him. Jungwon slips inside without asking, one hand still on the door like he’s giving you a chance to kick him out. You just stare, lips parted, unsure what to say. He closes it behind him. For a second, he just stands there, watching you.

Then, in that maddeningly even voice of his, he says, “I don’t actually hate you, you know.” You blink again. “Could’ve fooled me.” His mouth quirks. “You’re the only person I fight with like this.” “Wow. I feel special.” He walks closer, slow and steady, until he’s standing at the edge of the bed. Then he sits, not touching you, just leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You can feel the warmth of him, though his presence too loud in the quiet room. A beat passes. He turns his head to look at you, that unreadable glint in his eyes again. “You looked pissed earlier.” “You were yelling at me—” “You were yelling first.” You don’t know what to say. The silence stretches between you, thick with something neither of you wants to name. You’re perched at the edge of the bed now, knees brushing, and he’s just sitting there like he owns the room, like he’s not making your heart slam behind your ribs. “You’re quiet,” he says, voice low, amused. You glare, weakly. “You’re annoying.” He hums. “You’ve said that before.” “Because it’s true.” His lips twitch, barely hiding his smirk. “You always get so defensive when I get too close.” You freeze. He leans in a little—barely—but it’s enough to make you sit back slightly, even as your breath catches in your throat. “You act tough,” Jungwon murmurs, eyes flicking to your mouth for just a second. “But you’re not. Not with me.” Your chest tightens. “You don’t know me.” “I know enough.” His voice dips. “I know you get shy when I touch you. I know you stare when you think I’m not looking. And I know,” he says, gaze holding yours like a challenge, “that there’s someone you’re trying really hard not to say.” Your breath stutters. He smiles, slow and dangerous. “Am I wrong?” You don’t answer, you can’t. Your silence is all the confirmation he needs.

He leans in and kisses you—finally, finally—and it’s not soft. It’s confident, cocky. His lips press to yours with just the right pressure, coaxing you to melt into him, and you do, before you even realize it. Your hands fumble to grab onto something—his sleeve, the bedsheets, anything to ground yourself as your head spins. Your lips part instinctively, and he deepens the kiss with a soft, satisfied groan against your mouth. It’s overwhelming and hot. Way too much and still not enough. He pulls back grinning—smug and gorgeous and utterly infuriating. “See?” he says quietly, breath brushing your lips. “Not so tough now, are you?” Your cheeks burn. You blink at him, lips tingling, heart thudding, completely thrown off by how effortlessly he’s unraveled you in seconds. “I—shut up,” you mumble, voice unsteady. He chuckles, and it’s low and knowing. “Didn’t think you’d get all shy on me. Kinda cute, though.” “Jungwon—“ “Yeah?” He leans closer again, his knee brushing yours, hand resting beside your thigh like he’s giving you the option to push him away. You don’t. You can’t. Your eyes flick to his mouth, just once, but he catches it immediately. The smirk returns. “You wanna kiss me again?” he asks, soft and smug and stupidly hot. You hesitate, only for a second, but it’s all he needs to see it on your face. The wanting. The need. His eyes darken. And then—it’s you who kisses him. Messy and urgent. Less about proving something and more about needing him. Your fingers tangle into the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer like you can’t stand another inch between you. He hums into it, pleased, letting you take control for just a second, but when he kisses you back, it’s rougher, deeper, like he’s been starving. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he tips your head for a better angle, and you melt into him with a quiet whimper that makes him smirk against your lips. “Good girl,” he mutters when you break for air, forehead resting against his, your breath shaky and skin burning. You make a soft noise in response, and he grins like he owns you now. And maybe he does. because you already want more.

You kiss him again, quick and desperate. His mouth firmly moves against yours, savoring how soft you’ve gotten in his hands. You shift, trying to get closer, your legs brushing his—until you end up in his lap, straddling him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The moment you realize, your breath catches. Your hands freeze on his shoulders. But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t flinch. He just looks up at you with that unreadable gaze and runs his hands down your thighs, slow and confident. “Mmh” he hums, fingers tightening slightly. “Didn’t think you’d get this needy for me.” “I’m not—” you start, but your voice comes out breathy, weak, embarrassingly close to a whine. He smirks. “You sure? You kissed me twice.” Your cheeks burn. You try to avoid his gaze, but his hand finds your jaw, fingers tilting your face back toward him. His thumb brushes over your lower lip. “Say it,” he says softly. “Say you want me.” You shake your head, just barely. “I—Jungwon…” “Say it,” he repeats, his tone makes you squirm in his lap. “Be good for me.” Something in you crumbles. “…I want you,” you whisper, small and shaky. His grip on your waist tightens, and he pulls you down flush against him—just enough for you to feel the shape of him through his jeans. Your breath catches, and your hips stutter forward instinctively. “Oh?” he breathes out, grin turning sharper. “There’s my good girl.” You whimper. He kisses you again, rough, tongue slipping past your lips with an ease making your stomach flip. Your hands fist in his hoodie as your hips start to move on their own, grinding down against him through your clothes, desperate for friction, anything to ease the ache building in your core and he lets you. He hust watches you fall apart, his hands steady on your hips, guiding your movements lazily as he kisses the breath from your lungs.

“You’re soaked through.” he whispers against your mouth, voice thick. “All from kissing me?” You nod, helpless. “Thought you hated me,” he adds, dragging his lips down to your neck. “But you’re so fucking desperate, baby.” “W-Wonnie,” you breathe, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please…” He groans at the nickname as his dick twitches under you, his hips shifting up to meet yours. “You don’t get to act all mean with me anymore,” he murmurs, lips hot against your skin. “Not when you’re whimpering in my lap like this.” You let out a shaky moan, biting your lip, and he catches it with a kiss again, messy and deep and completely undoing you. Your hips rock forward again—slow at first, like you’re testing the waters, and then again, needier this time, like your body’s stopped listening to your brain altogether. “Fuck,” you whisper, jaw going slack as the friction hits just right. Your forehead drops to his shoulder, breath hot against his neck. Jungwon just exhales a quiet laugh, one hand trailing up your back beneath your shirt, warm against your spine. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “You like it, baby?” You nod fast. “Use your words, baby,” he says, voice almost amused. “Don’t go all quiet on me now.” You don’t mean to say it, not like this, not all breathy and fucked-out and vulnerable, but it tumbles out anyway, “W-Wonnie, please,” you whine, rolling your hips down again. “M’so wet…need you.” His grip on your waist tightens instantly. His head drops back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut for a beat as he groans. “Shit, you’re unreal,” he breathes, looking at you again, trying to memorize the exact way you look on top of him, all messy and needy and soft. “You’re fucking soaked, huh?” You nod again, face buried in his neck. “Feels s’good… need more.” you whisper, barely holding yourself together.

“I know you do,” he whispers, voice dark and coaxing. “My good girl’s been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Your hips stutter again, and a tiny moan escapes your lips. “You pretend so hard,” he goes on, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your neck, lazy and warm. “But the second I touch you like this, you just melt.” He guides you then—strong hands moving your hips in a rhythm that has you gasping, grinding down against the thick bulge in his jeans. His voice stays low, steady in your ear. “You like it when I take control, don’t you?” “Y-Yeah,” you admit in a whisper, trembling in his lap. Your head tips back as his lips trail along your neck, hot and open-mouthed, dragging a whimper out of you when he starts to suck at a spot just beneath your ear. He hums in satisfaction, lips latching on harder until he’s sure it’ll leave a mark. Then his hands are under your shirt, impatient. You inhale sharply as he tugs it up, his fingers brushing your bare skin, making you shiver. “This okay?” he asks suddenly, voice low but serious. You nod. “Yes.” He pulls your shirt over your head and lets it fall somewhere on the floor. The cool air hits your bare chest for half a second before his hands are on you again—firm and warm. His thumbs swipe over the curve of your breasts before he leans in and wraps his mouth around one nipple, sucking slow and deep, tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. You gasp, your back arching, fingers threading through his hair.

“Mmm—Wonnie,” you breathe, voice breaking. His grip on your waist tightens. He switches to your other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention while his free hand moves to cup the one he just left, squeezing gently like he can’t get enough. When he finally pulls back, your chest is flushed, marked with faint red patches and the start of bruises. Then he dips down to your neck again, peppering kisses over your throat, your collarbones, and down the curve of your shoulder. “Gonna leave you covered,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, “So fucking pretty like this. All mine.” You moan softly when his hand trails lower, resting between your legs under the fabric of your skirt. He firmly presses his palm against your heat. You whimper at the friction, hips twitching. His eyes are dark when they meet yours again, and he smirks like he knows exactly how far gone you are “Need my fingers in you, baby?” he asks, rubbing slow circles over your clothed pussy. “Want me to stretch you out nice and slow?” “Please,” you whisper, almost shaking. He grins satisfied, hungry. “Good girl.” You let him slip your skirt off, hips lifting to help him, and then you’re left in just your underwear. He takes a second to look at you spread out for him, flushed and trembling, before leaning in to kiss you again. Your hands fumble at the hem of his shirt, tugging impatiently, and he chuckles against your mouth. “Can’t wait, huh?” “Shut up,” you whine. But he obeys. He pulls away just long enough to strip it off, revealing his toned body, the lines of his stomach flexing as he tosses the shirt aside. Then he’s back on you, kissing you again like a starved man. And when his hand finally slips past the waistband of your underwear and touches you, you nearly sob.

He groans into your mouth when his fingers find how soaked you are—slick and warm and dripping for him. “Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his fingers through your folds slowly, teasing your clit with the lightest pressure that has you twitching under his touch. “All this for me? You can barely nod, whimpering as he circles your clit, lazy, torturous strokes that make your hips jerk up. You’re breathing hard, face flushed, and your hands clutch at his shoulders, his hair, anything to anchor you while he keeps pushing you higher with maddening patience. Then without warning, he pulls your panties to the side and slides two fingers into you, slow and deliberate. You choke on a moan, your entire body going tense for a second before melting into the sensation. “W-Wonnie—” your voice breaks on his name, thighs shaking as he starts to move them, curling just right. He watches your face as he pumps his fingers in and out, finding that spot that makes you gasp and clench around him. “Gripping me so good, baby. Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, hm?” His tone is low and thick with lust. Your hips move on instinct, chasing his fingers, chasing the high he’s building inside you. And all the while, his mouth is on your chest again—hot, wet kisses trailing across your skin as he sucks your nipples, one after the other, his free hand squeezing your ass, pulling you impossibly closer. It’s too much. It’s perfect. It’s everything. Your head falls back, lips parted in a soft cry. “Feels so good—don’t stop—please don’t stop…”

He chuckles against your skin, fingers curling just right again, dragging another broken moan from your throat. “Not gonna stop, baby. Not when you’re being so fucking good for me.” His thumb joins in, rubbing slow, tight circles over your clit while his fingers keep thrusting deep inside you. Your legs tremble, your body clenching around him. “W-Wonnie, I—I think—” You can’t finish. You can’t even think. Everything’s too much, building fast, burning hot behind your eyes. He kisses your throat, voice ragged. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Show me how bad you need it.” He picks up the pace, precise and relentless, and the pleasure finally crashes over you—white-hot and all-consuming. You cry out, legs trembling around him as your orgasm hits, soaking his fingers as you clamp down hard around him. He works you through it, soft praises in your ear, “That’s it, baby, that’s my girl… fuck, you’re perfect…”—until your body finally relaxes, slumping into his chest, breathless and buzzing. But the need doesn’t fade. If anything, it gets worse. Your hand drifts down, slow and uncertain, until your palm presses over the thick bulge in his sweatpants. He sucks in a breath, hips twitching at the contact. You look up at him through your lashes, eyes wide and glassy, still dazed from your orgasm. “Please, Wonnie…” you whisper, fingers curling slightly over him, rubbing just enough to make him hiss. “Want you in me. Pretty please…”

His jaw clenches, and for a second he just stares at you—like he’s trying to hold himself together, like he’s fighting every instinct not to just take you right then and there. Then he groans, low and wrecked, and leans down to kiss you hard. “You’re killing me,” he mutters against your lips, voice rough. “You know that?” You nod, breath hitching. “Need you.” That’s all it takes. In the next second, he flips you over gently, laying you flat on your back. The shift knocks the air from your lungs, you barely have time to gasp before he’s on top of you, kissing down your body with open-mouthed, desperate kisses, like he can’t get enough of you. Your panties are the first to go, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and slowly drags them down your thighs, eyes drinking in every inch of skin he reveals. “So fucking pretty,” he breathes, mostly to himself. “All this just for me.” Then he sits back just long enough to strip for you, tugging his sweatpants and boxers down in one motion. His cock springs free, flushed and hard and leaking, and your breath catches. You don’t even realize you’re staring until his voice cuts through the haze. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks softly, climbing back between your legs, hand stroking himself slowly. You nod, legs parting instinctively. “Please,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Need to feel you.” He leans down to kiss you again—slow, deep, sweet—and positions himself at your entrance, one hand steady on your thigh. “I got you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He pushes in slow, agonizingly slow, giving you every inch, every second to feel him stretch you open. The burn makes your breath catch, and your fingers clutch at the sheets beside you, back arching as he sinks deeper. “F-Fuck,” he breathes, eyes glued to where your bodies meet. “You’re so tight, baby… fuck, you’re perfect.” Your walls flutter around him, trying to adjust, and he stills once he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to yours. One hand strokes over your thigh, soft and grounding, while the other settles against your waist, holding you like you might disappear. “You okay?” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours. You nod fast, already trembling beneath him, lips parted, eyes glassy. “Y-Yeah… just—feels so full.” He leans in and kisses you, slow, deep, and tender. Not teasing this time, not smug. His hips start to move in slow, shallow thrusts, easing you into the rhythm. Every drag of him inside you makes your body shiver, your breath coming in short, broken pants. He groans quietly against your mouth with each roll of his hips, savoring the way you cling to him. “You feel so good, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, voice low and wrecked. “Taking me so well.” Your fingers thread through his hair again, pulling him closer, clinging. “Wonnie…” you breathe, completely undone. “You feel so good…”He picks up the pace just slightly, the sound of skin on skin soft but filthy in the quiet room. His hands caress your thighs, your hips, your waist—anywhere he can touch, needing to feel every part of you under him. “Wanted you like this for so long,” he whispers, lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “Always acting like you hate me… but you’re mine now, yeah?”

You moan, nodding helplessly. “Y-Yeah—‘m yours, Wonnie…” His rhythm stutters for a second at that, a quiet growl rumbling in his throat. He kisses you again, harder, hips rocking into yours with a little more force. “Say it again,” he murmurs, voice tight. “I’m yours,” you whimper, clinging to him. His hand slips under your back, holding you tighter as he buries himself in you again, hitting just right. You cry out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure builds all over again. And above you, Jungwon just watches—drunk on you, completely wrecked, and totally, hopelessly in love. He keeps moving inside you, steady and deep, dragging soft whimpers and breathy moans from your lips every time his hips press into yours. The way he’s looking at you—like he’s obsessed, like he can’t believe you’re real—makes your heart ache in the best way. “You’re doing so good f’me,” he murmurs, hips rolling in a perfect rhythm. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, trying to keep him close, but the pressure’s building again, hot and tight and overwhelming, and he can tell. Your walls flutter around him, and he groans into your neck, breath ragged. You’re gonna cum again f’me?” he pants, thrusts getting a little rougher now. “Shit… you’re close, baby?” You nod, completely breathless. “Y-Yeah, ‘m close—please, don’t stop—” “I won’t,” he promises, kissing your cheek as his hips slam into yours. “Gonna make you cum so hard, baby. Wanna feel you squeeze me again.” You fall apart a moment later, legs trembling, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashes through you. You sob his name, eyes wet and hazy, and he fucks you through it—deep, slow thrusts that make the pleasure stretch out endlessly.

He groans, hips stuttering, and presses his forehead to your shoulder, voice tight. “Fuck—you feel so good when you cum…” And then, before you can fully catch your breath, he pulls out. “J-Jungwon?” you gasp, blinking up at him, dazed. “Turn over for me,” he pants, eyes dark and wild. You obey instantly, shaky limbs moving to prop yourself up on your elbows, your chest against the sheets and your ass in the air for him. You don’t even have time to feel embarrassed. “Fuck… look at you,” he murmurs, running his hands down your back to your hips. “God, you’re perfect like this.” You let out a tiny moan, hips shifting instinctively, and then he’s back inside you—deeper this time, the angle making you cry out. He gives you a second to adjust before he starts to move again, hands gripping your waist, his thighs smacking against the backs of yours with every thrust. You bury your face into the sheets, moaning with every stroke. “Wonnie—f-fuck! it’s so deep—s’too much.” “I know,” he groans, watching the way your body reacts, your ass bouncing back against him with each thrust. “You’re taking it so fucking well.” His hand slides up your spine, pressing down gently between your shoulder blades until your back arches more, hips tilted perfectly for him. The new angle makes you sob. “Oh my god—Jungwon—please—” He groans at the sound of your voice, snapping his hips harder, faster now. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” You can barely think, barely breathe—just the sound of his skin against yours, your gasps and his low, broken groans echoing through the room.

He leans over you, one hand tangled in your hair as he presses kisses along your shoulder. “I could fuck you like this forever,” he murmurs, voice rough. “You were made for me.” You nod frantically, tears in your eyes from how good it feels. “Y-Yeah—made for you, Wonnie—only you…” He grins, wicked and breathless, hips still slamming into you. “Good fucking girl.” He pulls you enough to drag your trembling body flush against his chest. You whimper as he presses his chest to your spine, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you there, completely under his control as he thrusts up into you with deep, punishing strokes. “Fuck,” he breathes against your ear, voice shaking. “You feel so good—can’t get enough of you—” He buries his face in your neck, groaning raggedly as he pounds into you. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” The words hit you like a wave—raw and unexpected, spoken like he’s been holding them in for far too long, and something inside you just breaks. Your breath catches, eyes stinging with tears. “W-Wonnie…” your voice cracks as you cry out, overwhelmed. “I—I love you too. So much.” His rhythm falters for a beat at the sound of your voice breaking, at the way your body shakes beneath his, but then he holds you tighter, hips snapping harder. “That’s it, baby—say it again,” he pants, thrusting deep and slow now, grinding against your sweet spot with every movement. “Say it for me.” “I love you,” you sob, head dropping back against his shoulder as the pleasure builds into something devastating. “Love you so much, Jungwon—fuck—” And then you break. Your whole body seizes, legs shaking uncontrollably as you cry out his name, and you squirt, unexpectedly, violently, soaking both of you.

Your thighs tremble around him, your entire body going limp in his arms as pleasure crashes over you in a wave so intense it makes your vision go white. “Holy fuck,” Jungwon groans, stunned, still holding you close as your release coats his thighs and stomach, soaking the sheets below. “You’re so fucking unreal—look at what I do to you…” You’re still shaking when he pulls out with a curse, jerking himself quickly with one hand while keeping the other around your waist to hold you upright. “Fuck—gonna cum—gonna cum all over you, baby—” And then he does, hot and thick and messy, spilling across your ass and the small of your back with a sharp groan. He pants your name like a prayer as his hips twitch forward once more, squeezing your waist as he rides it out. After a few seconds, the room goes quiet. Just your shaky breaths and his heart racing against your back. He leans forward and presses soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, your spine, your neck. “You okay?” he whispers, breath still ragged. You nod, face buried in the pillow, still catching your breath. “Yeah,” you murmur, voice hoarse but full of warmth. “More than okay.” He kisses your shoulder one last time before pulling back, still breathless, still smiling like you’ve ruined him in the best possible way. Then he lets out a small laugh, eyes scanning the room and the obvious mess you two have made, “Shit,” he murmurs. “We really did that in her bed.”

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[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #6 444 205

Fish!

The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life

#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology

( 2 notes )

🪼 clovergonads follow

Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>

🐸 i-eat-skin follow

bitch those are goosefish

( 27,196 notes )

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow

Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore

@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.

🐍 swamplamprey follow

It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:

This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.

🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow

I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite

#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag

( 730 notes )

🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow

Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!

🌿 invertlike-behaviour

Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That

( 104 notes )

🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow

🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow

OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both

🦈 spiritually-placoderm

Shut your inferior ass mouth up

🫧 surgeonsturgeon

#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)

( 1,020 notes )

☀️ slenderfish follow

"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

( 193,239 notes)

🪷 trout-about-you follow

Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)

🪲 toebiter follow

how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone

🪷 trout-about-you

The sea lamprey on the left took it for me

( 58 notes )

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!

IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.

🐟 darting-action follow

these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!

🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated

Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.

🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated

You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?

🐠 betta-than-this follow

"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🐟 darting-action

woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes

Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know

🫖 burgle-the-turts follow

Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????

🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated

does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed

🌊 herringageposts follow

date of origin: 28th of august, 2017

( 392,229 notes )

🟧 sponsored

Suffering all alone, handsome?

No need to anymore.

👄 pollywannacracker follow

Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}

🚬 shark-noir follow

@ninjalantern-999

#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D

( 295 notes )

🩸 must-lunge follow

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!

🧑 official-human-posts follow

ofishal human post

#ofishal human post #this post contains humans

( 891 notes )

🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow

Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?

👑 goldielocks follow

I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".

Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.

🦐 worldwideshrimp follow

You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish

👑 goldielocks

....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.

🦎 eye-of-newt follow

But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?

👑 goldielocks

A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.

⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow

Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?

👑 goldielocks

If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.

🌌 themanta1234 follow

If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!

🦑 abyssal-gigantism follow

Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"

Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????

🦛 drippohippo follow

😨

🪄 magicmanatee45 follow

DD:

🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow

:'''((((

🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow

🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow

:///////////

🐢 greenXD follow

i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti

🌜 foolish-idol follow

Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers

( 60,376 notes )

🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow

Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀

#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites

( 4 notes )

😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow

Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O

[realcube]

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; after being blocked by a situationship, you show your best friend your nudes and ask for advice. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. distribution of explicit material, oral, objectification, mentions of squirting, breeding, anal & filming.

the door to suna's room creaks as you step inside.

after having spent all day bed rotting with your best friend, you decided to step out for some fresh air (and a quick smoke), and unsurprisingly, suna is still exactly as you left him — on his phone, leaning back against his headboard. he doesn't spare you a glance as you enter the room.

your phone is still perched precariously on the edge of his bed, and you approach it with caution. part of the reason you rushed outside was because during an awfully risque text conversation with a guy you've been talking to, you obliged and sent him some lewd pics. but he left you on read.

in your defence, it was a heat-of-the-moment decision, and he did request it, so it's not as though you were sending unsolicited images like some sort of perv. but the fact he was taking so long to respond did make you feel like one, though a small voice in your head tried to reassure you that surely he wasn't ignoring you, perhaps your pics have just given him something to take care of.

regardless, the larger part of you was moritified and unsure what to do, so you just dropped your phone on the bed and removed yourself from the situation — clearing your mind before you returned.

now, it was time for the moment of truth. you sat yourself awkwardly down on the corner of the bed, and hesitantly reached for your phone. no new notifications: that didn't fill you with much hope at all. after inputting your password, you navigated to the app and searched for his contact, and suspiciously it wasn't it your 'recently messaged' tab.

your heart was already thundering in your chest, but this only made it far worse. all your messages and chat history with this guy had disappeared, and when you tried to desperately type one out to him, it was immediately marked as 'failed to send'.

you frown, body going slack as you fall back onto the bed and defeatedly drawl, "he blocked me.."

suna finally perked up from his oblivious post at the other side of his bed, "who blocked you?"

"the guy i was texting.."

"that sucks." suna responded bluntly. though you couldn't blame him, he clearly didn't understand the severity of the situation, so you tried to explain it to him,

"you don't get it! i actually really liked him, and we were having such a nice time talking until.." you trail off, failing to find the courage to admit the shameful truth.

"until?" suna pried.

"rinny! can i ask you something?" you inquire, swiftly sitting upright as you shift the conversation, "can i send you some photos and you can tell me what you think of them?"

if suna was being completely honest, he was only half paying attention to whatever it was you were saying, so naturally he didn't notice the sudden change in topic of discussion — or he just didn't care. your new request wasn't foreign to him though; often you'll ask him to review random pics that you plan on adding to a photo dump online. or asking him to rank what order you should add the pics to your instagram carousel. or in which of these three images are you serving the most cunt. stuff like that, thus he agreed.

"sure. send them and i'll look."

"yay." you hummed with delight, and eagerly forwarded him the pics, "let me know what you think. i thought they looked fine but now i'm having second thoughts.."

he tapped the notification at the top of his screen and was directed to the chat with you. in which, he was met with an influx of images he was not expecting.

you, his best friend, who he's known for as long as he can remember, perched on your bathroom counter and posing for a mirror photo — wearing nothing but a floral thong and no top. your back was facing the mirror so he couldn't see your chest, but the plump globe of your ass was fully exposed and unshielded by the skimpy sliver of fabric.

his blood rushed to his head, and also his dick. his whole body was tense and thus his eyes were glued to the lewd picture of you, not only because he was mesmerised but also since he was so rigid he couldn't bring himself to move his thumb.

the furious pounding of his heartbeat rattled in his eardrums. he's never seen you so bare before. of course you've worn revealing clothes around him before — like when you go to the beach together, or sometimes when you're just hanging out in a warm environment — but never in such a purposeful or pornographic manner.

don't get him wrong, you've always been alluring to him but he just assumed that was just a part of your nature and he was being a sly pervert for secretly viewing you in an explicit way. like when you'd pull your hoodie off and your shirt would ride up and he'd get a peek of your underboob. or when you'd sit with your legs up on the couch while wearing shorts and he could see the outline of your sweet folds. it was undoubtably hot but that was never the intention, or so he assumed.

even though your back was to the mirror in the image, he could still tell that you weren't wearing any top, and the placement of your other hand just underneath the rotund curve of your ass was so deliberate and hot. it's like he was seeing you in a whole other light; he didn't know you were capable of being so sexy on purpose — he always assumed it was more of an accidental thing for you.

it's like his whole impression of you was shattering. maybe you weren't the sweet girl with a grimy sense of humour he thought you were; maybe you were truly a slutty bombshell. it was surreal and nauseating yet he still ached to see more.

though, before he began scrolling through the several other images you sent him, he gulped and turned the phone to show you the screen, "uhm, did you mean to send me this?"

you furrowed your brows together and leaned forward to inspect the screen, afraid you might've sent him pics of your medical anomaly that you meant to show the doctor. but once you examined the pic, you sighed and sat back in place, "yeah, those are the right ones." you state plainly, and suna proceeds to stare blankly at you, entirely speechless.

it freaked you out a little, so you attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence, "what do you think? that's what i sent to the guy before he blocked me. i thought they were kinda cute.. but there must be something wrong with them." he still looks astonished, so you clarify, "and he asked for me to send them, by the way. i didn't just do it randomly."

suna nods slowly as if that were of any reassurance what-so-ever. you press him to continue looking, and he cautiously does so. his thumb moves on his own as he swipes through the multiple suggestive images you sent him. and his dick begins to throb looking at each one.

they are all so hot; makes him feel so perverted for enjoying it. many are taken in your bathroom mirror, a string bikini top with a measly little thong on. he recalls you wore that exact set to the beach with him one time, except you were wearing a floral sarong too. it was sheer but there was still enough fabric to obscure you're delicious ass. but in this picture it was all out for the camera.

there was even a couple shots from that one halloween where you went as a zombie cowgirl. the costume itself was cool but suna recalls it wasn't revealing or intentionally 'sexy' or anything like that — which is why his heart leaped upon seeing your various upskirt pics, that were probably taken after he walked you home after a night out. some were shot directly up your skirt, showing the plushness of your ass up close, while others were taken in your bedroom mirror. either with you lifting your skirt up teasingly, or full-on bent over for the camera. from certain angles, he could even see the imprint of your lips through your thin panties which drove him absolutely insane.

to think, if he was smart enough that night, he could've stayed over at yours and buried himself in that cute ass, that you were clearly so desperate to show off. could've ate that pristine hole and felt your soft ass cradle his face. it's as though he could hear the adorable little noises you would've made, ringing in his ears.

he been gawking at his phone screen for a while, saying nothing, so you pry, "i look fine, right, rin? c'mon, please don't tell me i look weird! i thought these pictures were cute, so i don't know why he didn't like them.." you whine with a frustrated pout. you really don't understand men, thus you were hoping suna would be of some assistance, but he wasn't even saying anything or providing useful insight. just gaping at his screen.

"uh, they look.." he started, voice trailing off as his eyes were still glued to your perky ass clad in nothing but a thong, and his mind began to run wild with fantasies, "uhm.."

you interpretted his lust-fuelled daze as disinterest, and sighed. "really? they're that bad. what's wrong with 'em? i don't get it.. oh! is it because i'm leaving to much to the imagination? are they not overt enough?" you bite your lip as you antsily scroll through your secure folders and forward him some additional pictures, "look, i have dirtier ones. whatdya think? are these ones better?"

as promised, the new images you sent him were dirtier. filthy, in fact.

now you were wearing absolutely nothing. suna choked on his own spit at the sight of you stood bare in front of your bathroom mirror, posing suggestively for the camera. your whole pussy was exposed and so were your erect nipples, that he had previously only seen when they were teasing him by straining against the fabric of your tank tops.

he knew you were attractive but it was shocking to realise that is the body you've been hiding this whole time. had he knew that earlier, he would've ripped your clothes off a lot sooner.

in some of them your hair was wet and the bathroom mirror was steamy, as though you had just gotten out of the shower. for the most part he's been hyper-focussed on your seductive body, however, he's suddenly beginning to notice things in the background. like the pattern of the bathroom tiles.. and the shape of the mirror.. and the colour of the countertops.. shit, were some of these taken in his bathroom?

there was no denying it. the reality came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and knocked the wind right out of him. at some point, he was chilling in his room, probably playing video games or texting his friends without a care in the world, patiently waiting for his turn to shower, while you were in the adjoining bathroom, posing for nude selfies and showing off your slutty tits for the camera. in his mirror.

fuck, if only he knew. now he feels like an idiot. the things he would've done to that hot body in the shower, his dick aches just thinking about it. he'd need to finish in you so many times, until his cum was drooling out of you and he'd only stop once the water ran cold.

there were shots with your legs spread too. on halloween again, your skirt was hiked up and your panties were pulled to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. he'd do anything to lock his mouth to those puffy folds of yours. taste that sticky, juicy cunt. even without flash, your pussy was visibly soaked with your arousal. it coated your lips and stuck to your inner thighs.

and the sight of your tantalising hole was enough to make him light-headed. so puckered and cute for the camera. and it was about the tightest little thing he's ever seen. from the way your own juices soak your pretty pussy, he could tell you were undoubtly needy that halloween night. he hates himself for not burying his cock into that snug hole and stretching you out. pounding his fat dick into over and over, and making you take it. or his tongue, then he wouldn't stop until you squirt in his mouth, and he'd keep going for several rounds until you—

"hellooo? earth to rinny. anybody there?" you wave your hand in between his dry eyes and the phone, which momentarily rips him out of his horny trance.

"huh?" he groans, confused as to what you are disturbing him for, when he was so close drinking up your first orgasm (in his imagination.)

"do you think i should've sent the dirtier pics?" you pondered aloud, waiting for suna's much-needed input, "maybe he blocked me because he thought i was a prude, or something like that."

"you're definitely not a prude." suna utters his first coherent (and sfw) thought in the last ten minutes. "why.. did you send me these?"

"so i can get your opinion, dummy!" you roll your eyes, prodding at his shoulder, "that's what i've been syaing this whole time. it's not like i'm showing you my nudes for fun."

"right.." his brows twitch, trying his best not to even glance down at his phone screen, as he knows he'll be distracted again, "i think you look fine."

"fine?!—"

"—great! you look great." suna swiftly corrects himself, then continues, "why do you care that some guy blocked you? he was probably just an asshole."

"what if he blocked me because he thinks i'm hideous?" you whine.

"you're not." he states plainly. "but if you're that worried about it, i could help you take some better photos."

"really?"

"yeah." he slowly stands up from the bed, weary as to conceal his throbbing erection as he moves, "what're friends for?"

you smile gently up at him, and without further question, you begin to remove your clothes. in truth, you are a bit hesitant because you've never purposefully stripped for him before — yeah, sometimes you guys would change in front of each other, but that was never as intimate as this. however, you persevered because you felt as though during your embarrassing moment, you reached a new level of friendship and camaraderie with suna. one in which you could be more vulnerable with each other.

first to come off was your jumper, then your shorts, and next thing you knew, you were laying completely nude out in front of suna. he loomed over you, grasping onto his phone camera for dear life. his eyes were zeroed in on your tits, but you tried your best to ignore that and giggled, "how should i pose first?"

rintaro forced himself to gulp down whatever hedonistic thoughts were brewing in his mind, for now. he didn't want to risk appearing too eager, even if your naked body in such close proximity to him almost caused knees to give out under him. he needs to act casual. "lay on your front."

you do as you are told, and you mewl slightly as his cold hands runs over the back of your thigh, massaging your silkly flesh. he kneeds the doughy meat of your ass with his palms, then promptly spreads your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. you can almost hear his devilish grin as he snaps a photo and hums, "there we go. so tight for the camera. you wouldn't mind if i.." his muses, as his fingers idly dance over your rear, playfully poking your ass until they sneak down to prod at your hole.

then, without warning, he shoves two digits straight in, takes the pic then yanks them back out. your back arches instictively at the lewd intrusion, "ngh, rinny!" you squeal, scrunching your features, "just take normal ones.."

"this is the sort of stuff guys like, though." he reassures, stroking your perky ass, savouring the sensation of your supple skin under his hand. "action shots."

"hmm.." you considered his suggestion, bearing in mind that he's a horny fuck that probably just wanted to stick his fingers inside you, "maybe my old pics are a bit vanilla.." you admitted.

"yeah. they're hot but you could look a lot hotter." he said, blinkly slowly, "you know what guys like? squirting pics."

"...really?" you raised an eyebrow, peering over your shoulder so he could see your clearly dubious expression.

"mhm. most guys are super turned on by it. you could land any guy if you had a pic like that." he explains with an absurd amount of sincerity and confidence, despite the fact he pulled all of that out of his ass.

"and how would i get a photo like that?" you slowly roll over onto your back, so you're looking up at him while he's stood at the edge of the bed, holding your thigh in one hand and his phone in the other — with his camera pointed directly at you.

"i guess i'd have to tongue fuck you.." he says 'begrudgingly'.

"oh i'd never made you do that, rinny." you're onto his agenda, since he does a terrible job at hiding it. the massive tent in his pants was making it too obvious that he wanted to fuck you. but you like to tease him about it. "i could just use a vibrator, while you take the picture."

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."