#that experience almost makes up for the rest of it

[whor3ing]

𝑺𝒂𝒚 𝑰𝒕 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 | 𝑪.𝑺

Chris Sturniolo! x f!reader

WARNINGS : part one of two, lots of dirty talk and degradation, fingering with rings, grinding on his thigh, choking, semi-public, nearly caught, usage of slut,

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IN WHICH.. You meet Chris Sturniolo at a meet-and-greet, where a seemingly innocent interaction quickly turns into something more backstage. Later that evening, you post about the experience on your Tumblr blog, never expecting that Chris would find it.

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word count : 6k ♡

00

The moment you’ve been waiting for, dreamed about, counted to, has finally arrived.

Those words echo through your head, but they do nothing to calm the anticipation curling tight in your chest. The feeling is overwhelming, almost suffocating, as you stand amongst the crowd, your eyes scanning the room, your heart hammering harder with each passing second.

As much as it feels like a fever dream to be here, to be seconds away from meeting the Sturniolo's, the sight of their names and their faces plastered everywhere remind you just how real this truly is.

Pictures of them are scattered across the venue, some candid, some posed, their names bolded in dark black ink, all so familiar that it almost feels unreal to be surrounded by them like this.

You’ve seen these faces a thousand times before, in their videos, in edits you’ve replayed more times than you can admit.

But never like this, never with the knowledge that just beyond the crowd, just past the last few people in line, they’re actually here; about to meet you.

Every so often, you catch glimpses between the shifting bodies of your peers, an all too familiar hand running through hair, a quick turn of a head, the flash of a grin. It makes your stomach flip, a rush of nerves tightening in your chest as the distance between you and them continues to shrink. You tug at the hem of your shirt, shifting on your feet, the denim of your jeans stiff against your legs, grounding you as anticipation builds.

The line stretches ahead, absolutely packed with fans, voices bubbling with excitement, nervous laughter breaking through the hum of conversation. Their energy mirrors your own, their wide smiles, restless hands, the jittery edge of absolute shock laced with their every movement.

And then suddenly, it’s your turn.

Your breath catches in your throat as you step forward, your legs unsteady beneath you. Every second leading up to this moment had felt like a blur, but now, time slows to an unbearable crawl.

Christopher Sturniolo is right there.

Sitting at the table, arms resting lazily against it, he glances up at you, and for the first time tonight, your mind goes completely blank.

Chris looks even better in person, somehow sharper and softer all at once. His dark hair is tousled, the strands falling perfectly into place and his blue eyes are piercing under the bright venue lights, playful yet sharp as they lock onto yours, like he’s already figured you out before you’ve even spoken.

He’s wearing a hoodie, the fabric bunched slightly at his elbows, exposing his forearms as he lazily rests them on the table. His fingers tap idly against the surface, the few rings on his fingers catching the light with every slow movement.

Beside him, Matt is just as relaxed, leaning back slightly in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his lips curved into an easy smile as he chats with the fan in front of him. Nick, on the other hand, is laughing at something someone said, his eyes shining and his smile wide.

There’s something about the way he’s sitting, about the way they all are sitting—it's relaxed, confident, like they are all completely at ease despite the constant buzz of excitement around him.

The silver chain around his neck glints as he shifts slightly, and the scent of his cologne lingers in the air between you—clean, warm, something undeniably him.

His lips twitch up into that familiar, teasing smirk, like he already knows the effect he has on you, like he’s waiting to see just how flustered you’ll get.

“Yo, what’s up?” His voice is smooth, casual, like this is just any other conversation, like he’s not the one you’ve been waiting to meet for months, like he's not the one you write about, dream about.

He leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, fingers idly drumming against the surface. “You doin’ good? You look kinda—” He pauses, tilting his head, eyes scanning your face before a knowing grin spreads across his lips. “Nervous as hell.”

Your stomach flips, heat creeping up your neck as you let out a shaky laugh. “I mean… yeah, kinda.”

He huffs out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, you’re good. We’re just guys, y’know? No need to be nervous.” He gestures between himself and his brothers. “Well, except maybe around Matt. He’s kinda weird.”

“Dude, what?” Matt scoffs from beside him, shooting Chris an offended glare, but Chris just laughs, his eyes flicking back to you.

“So, what’s your name?” he asks, his fingers lazily spinning the Sharpie in his hand.

You tell him, and he repeats it back, testing it out, letting it roll off his tongue.

“Yeah, that’s a cool name.” He grins, then nods toward your phone still clutched tightly in your hand. “You wanna take a picture or somethin’?”

You nod quickly, almost too eagerly, and Chris chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head as he reaches out for your phone. His fingers brush against yours as he takes it from you, and the contact is brief, but it’s enough to drive you wild.

“Alright, c’mere,” he says, shifting slightly in his seat to make space for you.

Your heart pounds as you step closer, slipping into the small space between him and Nick, Matt at your other side.

Chris slings an arm around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his grip easy, warm, familiar despite the fact that you’ve never met before. The scent of his cologne lingers stronger now, mixing with the faint hint of whatever detergent clings to his hoodie.

Matt leans in on the other side, grinning as Nick holds up the phone to snap the picture. “Alright, say something dumb,” Nick teases, hovering his thumb over the button.

Chris hums like he’s actually thinking about it before, at the last second, he rolls his eyes, “Matt’s ugly.”

The camera clicks right as Matt shoves him, nearly knocking you into Chris’ chest as everyone bursts into laughter.

“Dude, you’re literally an idiot,” Matt groans, shaking his head, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips.

You can’t even process what just happened, can’t believe how easy this all feels, how comfortable they all are. Chris is still laughing, arm still draped over you, and when he looks down, catching the dazed smile on your face, his grin seems to shift to almost a smirk.

“You good?” he teases, voice low enough that only you can hear it. His fingers squeeze your shoulder lightly before he drops his arm, wiping his hand on his jeans before turning back to the table as he reaches for a poster to sign.

Behind him, Matt and Nick settle back into their spots, effortlessly slipping back into their interactions. Matt flashes a playful smile at a girl just a few feet away, ruffling his hair before signing something for her, while Nick cracks a joke with a fan, making them laugh easily.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

He chuckles, uncapping the Sharpie with his teeth before scribbling something down, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

It’s such a simple action, but there’s something effortlessly hot about the way he does it—his lips parting just enough to hold the cap between his teeth, jaw tightening slightly as he focuses on the paper in front of him. His fingers move lazily, gripping the marker with practiced ease, veins subtly visible beneath the skin of his forearm as he writes. He smiles, his eyes flashing up to you, "You sure about that?”

Chris slides the signed poster toward you, but instead of looking away like he’s already moving on to the next person, his eyes linger on you. He’s watching you again—really watching, like he’s trying to figure you out. Like he knows something you don’t.

“You from around here?” he asks, his tone still light, still teasing, but there’s an edge of curiosity beneath it.

You shake your head. “Nah, I drove a few hours for this.”

He raises an eyebrow, an amused sort of interest flashing across his face. “Damn. Dedication.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he leans in just a little.

“Worth it?”

You let out a breathy laugh, trying to ignore how warm your face is. “I mean… yeah.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, tapping the Sharpie against his ring covered fingers. “I dunno, you don’t sound too sure.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you’re pretty sure he knows it. “No, it’s definitely worth it.”

Chris huffs a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leans back again. His gaze flickers down for a split second—your skirt, the way your fingers brush at the hem, grounding yourself.

He tilts his head toward the side of the venue, where a roped-off area leads toward the backstage doors. “You in a rush?”

You blink. “What?”

His smirk deepens, like he’s enjoying how easily you get flustered. “You got time to hang for a bit?”

Your stomach flips. “Backstage?”

Chris shrugs, tapping the marker against his lip like he’s pretending to think about it. “I mean, unless you’d rather go stand in the crowd again.”

It’s not a serious question. He knows the answer before you even say it.

You nod, pulse racing. “Yeah. I—I have time.”

His grin widens as he pushes back from the table, his brothers still occupied with other fans, not paying much attention. He gestures for you to follow. “Aight, c’mon then.”

01

Your heart pounds in your chest as you follow him, trying to keep your steps steady even though everything inside of you feels like it's on fire.

You follow close behind, your heart thumping faster with every step. The sound of your shoes against the floor is drowned by the hum of conversations and the distant music, but it doesn’t matter.

All you can focus on is Chris in front of you, the way he moves through the queue, the way his hands rest at his side as he walks, the relaxed yet confident sway in his step. He glances back occasionally, flashing you that same teasing grin, as if he’s fully aware of how you’re trying to steady your breath.

As you both make your way to the backstage area, the excitement of the venue fades, replaced by a quiet hum in the background.

The hallways here are quieter, cooler, and the lights are dimmer, casting long shadows along the walls. Chris takes it all in stride, leading the way with that calm ease of someone who’s used to this world, before leading you down the hall, stopping at a door that's slightly ajar, the light from inside spilling out onto the floor.

He nudges it open with his shoulder, revealing a small, dimly lit room.

Inside, the carpet underfoot is a muted gray, plush enough to sink into, but it’s clear it’s been well-worn, the fibers flattened from frequent use.

It contrasts with the polished wood of the coffee table and the sleek metal of the film equipment scattered around. A few stray cords snake across the floor, leading to the cameras and tripods, adding to the sense of controlled messiness in the room.

A couch sits against the wall, an old leather piece that’s seen better days but still looks inviting with its deep, rich color. A couple of water bottles and a half-empty snack bowl rest on the coffee table, along with a remote control for the TV on the wall, currently switched off, silent in the background.

Walking over to the couch, Chris takes a seat, casually throwing one arm across the back, looking relaxed. He pats the spot beside him, the gesture almost casual, but you can tell from the way his eyes lock onto yours that it’s more than just an invitation to sit.

“You sure your good?” he asks again, his voice low, his gaze never leaving you. The smirk is still there, but it feels different now, like there’s something else beneath it, something personal.

You sit beside him, feeling the heat of his body next to yours, but your mind’s still buzzing with the moment you’re actually here. Something else crosses your mind, and the words slip out before you can stop them. “Won’t your other fans miss you?”

You tilt your head slightly, your fingers tracing the edge of the coffee table, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. “I mean, you’re kinda skipping out on the meet and greet, right?”

Chris’ eyes twinkle with amusement, a grin tugging at his lips as he leans back, one hand still draped across the back of the couch, his body angled toward you.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” he says smoothly, almost nonchalant. “They’ll get their turn. I’m just taking a little break, y’know?”

His gaze softens as he glances down at you, that smirk still playing at the corner of his mouth. “But right now? I’m more focused on you than them.”

He leans in a little closer, his arm brushing against yours as he shifts his weight, the space between you narrowing just enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him.

Chris leans back into the couch, his eyes still locked on you with that same teasing glint, his smirk never quite leaving.

There’s something in the way he looks at you now, something sharper, as if he’s watching every little movement, every breath you take.

“So…” he starts, the word drawn out like he’s savoring it. “Why you so nervous all of a sudden? You were calm enough to follow me back here.” His voice drops, quieter now, almost too casual, like he's testing you. “Came all the way back here with me, no hesitation. But now you’re acting like I’m gonna bite your head off or somethin’.”

You swallow, heart pounding as the tension between you thickens. "I didn’t think it’d be like this," you admit, your voice quieter now, your words almost coming out in a breathless rush. "Like, I didn’t think I’d end up… here. With you. Alone."

Chris’ smirk widens, but there's something deeper in his expression now, like he’s enjoying this subtle game you’re playing. "So, what, you thought this was all just gonna stay... innocent?" His voice drops a little, the teasing edge still there but laced with something else, something more intent. "You came all the way back here with me, and now you’re telling me you didn’t expect it to get... this close?"

You hesitate for a second, your pulse quickening under his gaze. "I didn’t know what to expect."

Chris raises an eyebrow at your words, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. "But you knew something would happen, right?"

His voice drops even lower, more deliberate now, like he’s trying to draw you in further with his velvety tone. "You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t expect something to change." You didn’t follow me back just to sit and chat."

As he speaks, his fingers move absentmindedly, toying with the rings on his hands, twisting them between his fingers like he has all the time in the world.

The veins running along the backs of his hands stand out subtly, shifting each time his fingers flex, his knuckles prominent as he rolls the metal around. It’s distracting—too distracting—because all you can think about is how good those hands would feel against you. How easily those fingers could wrap around your wrist, your throat, your waist.

Your breath catches slightly as your eyes flicker from his hands back up to his face, only to find him watching you, smirking like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind.

"What, you’re telling me you didn’t want it to be different? Didn’t want things to get a little… closer?" His eyes catch yours again, unrelenting, like he’s daring you to say something, to make a move.

"I guess I do want it to be different," You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Chris leans back just a bit, his eyes glinting. "So, you’re not just here for the meet and greet anymore, huh?" he teases, his tone dripping with intent.

You swallow hard, your heart racing at the way he’s looking at you, at the way his words hang in the air between you.

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of his gaze making it hard to think clearly. "I guess not," you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his blue eyes again, feeling the tension between you thicken as he smiles, his tongue darting into his cheek.

His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, that same playful challenge lingering in his expression. "You know," he says, his voice quiet, almost a purr, "you don’t have to act like you’re unsure. I can tell what you want."

Chris smirks as his fingers lightly circle your neck, not squeezing, just resting there—taunting. "Look at you," he murmurs, tilting his head. His thumb traces the line of your jaw before tightening just enough to make your breath hitch.

As Chris’s thumb presses gently against your pulse, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the way his hand against your neck teases you. "'All worked up already, and I'm only just talking.."

Before you can respond, his lips crash into yours, hungry and impatient. This kiss is sloppy, all consuming. Chris' hungry mouth moving against yours, his grip on your neck keeping you in place as his other hand wanders down onto your thighs, drifting to firmly hold your hip, his hands rubbing themselves against the skin just above your pants.

You can feel his tongue slip against yours, rough and demanding, his lips moving in sync with your own, his hands on your neck gripping even tighter.

"You wanna get more comfortable, sweetheart?" he murmurs, breaking the kiss, his breath hot against your ear instead, "these jeans look a little tight on you."

His grip on your hip tightens as he urges you to take them off, his thumb slipping under the hem of your pants, brushing against your lower abdomen, as if to temp you out of them, not that you need much motivation.

Chris grins at you with how fast you slip off your jeans, letting them pool at your feet as you sit on the couch with him, putting your panties on display for him.

"I knew those pants were too tight on you," he murmurs, his hand moving to rest on your thigh, his palm searingly hot against your skin, just as hot as the one against your throat.. You watch as he trails his fingers up and down your inner thigh, you can feel the cold metal of his rings against your bare skin, making you shiver against him.

"C'mere, lean against the arm of the couch ma," he murmurs, his eyes filled with absolute desire.

His words are a command you can't refuse, his tone both gentle and dominant, making your insides twist with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. You obey, leaning back against the arm of the couch, your body arched toward him, your position leaving you completely exposed to him.

"God look at how wet that pussy is..." He trails off, "Can see it right through these useless panties.." Chris whispers, his fingers brushing against the fabric right above your cunt, the coldness of his rings pressing into you, only slightly.

"Can’t believe you were so soaked just from a fucking meet-and-greet," he murmurs, a sarcastic laugh escaping his lips. "You must’ve really been holding out on me."

His smirk grows, and he leans in, his lips grazing your ear, his hands mercilessly finding the waistband of your underwear. Chris' fingers brush against the fabric as he slowly pulls them down, chuckling "I bet you were dripping the whole time, huh? Couldn’t even keep it together in front of all those people."

“You’re so fucking needy,” he whispers, voice rougher now, right next to your head, but still laced with that mocking sweetness. “Didn’t think I’d be the one to make you lose it, huh? Here you are, all wet for me before we’ve even done anything."

You can feel the way that he rubs your thighs, the muscles in his hands flexing as he moves them against you. You can feel the strength in his fingers, how they wrap around you with ease, how his veins look like they're about to pop the harder he rubs against the skin of your neck.

“You like that, don’t you?” Chris mutters, breaking your thoughts. “You like the way my hands feel on you… so fucking strong, you don’t want me to stop.”

Suddenly, before you can respond, you feel his fingers reach your clit. The movement is slow as he traces gentle circles around your most sensitive spot, his fingers toying and teasing with where you need him most.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear, his fingers continuing their slow, torturous rhythm.

“Could feel it the second I touched you. All this for me, huh?” His thumb applies just enough pressure to make you gasp, pushing you closer to the edge with every stroke, while his other hand holds you steady, the veins in his wrist and forearm flexing as he moves.

"God— Chris, oh fuck.." You moan, your pussy feeling so sensitive from his touch. Instinctively, you can feel your hands reach up to cover your mouth, remembering where you are, your moans becoming muffled through the skin of your palm against your lips.

"Yeah? You like that?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, his touch growing rougher as he feels you shiver under his touch, his rings pressing into your mound above your pussy as his fingers work against your clit.

"You like it when I touch you like this? Yeah baby?"

Chris notices your covered mouth immediately, his lips curling into a smirk as he pulls back slightly from your ear to meet your eyes. "Don’t hide it," he murmurs, voice dark with authority. “I want to hear you. Every fucking sound. No holding back.”

Before you can protest or pull your hand to cover your mouth, his grip on your jaw tightens, his hand leaves your neck to remove your hand, and his thumb presses against your bottom lip, forcing it to part.

“You don’t get to hide from me,” he growls, eyes narrowing. “Let me hear how much you fucking like this, how much that fucking pussy wants me to make it feel good."

His demands only cause you to moan more, your mouth opening and your tongue snaking around his fingers that rest on your lips. Your tongue maneuvers around them, pulling his index finger into your mouth, your moans stifled against the skin of his finger. "God, Chris.. right fucking there—yes.."

Chris' fingers dig into your neck, pressing firmer as his fingers leave your clit. You whine, instinctively, the sound loud and laced with so much want. “Chris, please…” You barely manage to get the words out, your voice thick with need and frustration.

He leans back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches your reaction. “Shhh.” His finger gently presses against your lips, silencing you. “I’m not done yet,” he murmurs, voice low, amused.

You whimper, your frustration building, the absence of his touch making everything feel even more intense. You try to shift, to pull him back, but he’s not having it.

“I said, I’m not done,” he repeats, his voice like silk, but with a command in it that makes your whole body tingle. His eyes flicker down to you, seeing your desperation, and he chuckles darkly. "Patience, baby. You’ll get what you want, just not yet."

With a slow, deliberate motion, he shifts his body, positioning his thigh firmly between your legs. He presses it against you, just enough to make you gasp, but not enough to give you what you want.

“Shhh, be quiet,” he murmurs, his lips curling into that wicked smirk as he watches you squirm, his thigh resting perfectly against your pussy. "Go ahead," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, "Rub yourself on me. I know you need it. Don't be shy." He shifts slightly, giving you just enough space to grind against his thigh, his hand resting casually on the back of your neck.

"You’re not getting away with holding back anymore," he continues, the teasing in his voice only making the whole situation more intense. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips, dragging your wet pussy against the dark denim of his jeans, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Chris watches you closely, his smirk never fading, his eyes dark with amusement as you begin to ride his thigh harder, unable to stop the need coursing through you. "I know you want to feel it. Go ahead, baby, take what you need."

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his voice rough as you grind against him. "You’re so fucking wet, I can feel it." His hand grips your waist, helping guide your movements, but you can tell he’s enjoying watching you take control, even if just for a moment.

You moan, your eyes closing as you feel one of his hands grip around your hips, rubbing at the skin. He bends his neck, craning to rest his lips against the side of your neck.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this, makin' a mess on my thigh," You can feel the way Chris' lips slide against your skin, the way he sucks at your neck, biting and licking at your soft skin. “You like that, huh?” he murmurs, his teeth grazing against your skin before he sucks lightly, marking you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, can’t resist leaving my mark on you, say that you're mine— fuck.."

"I'm yours—mm, yes Chris."

He smirks, "Say it again, say that you're fucking mine."

"I'm fucking yours, Chris—God, please don't stop."

He smirks, satisfied, then moves to the other side of your neck, his lips pressing harder, teeth scraping gently before his mouth opens wider, leaving a dark, purple bruise beneath your skin. "There," he whispers, voice rough. "You’ll wear this for me, won’t you? Everywhere you go, people will know who made you feel this good."

The mixture of his hands on your thighs, guiding your hips up against his, and the way that his lips suck against your neck is enough to drive you to that edge.

Your body trembles, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle as your hips moves faster, harder, pressing down just the right way onto his thigh. You try to bite back your moans, but it’s impossible.

“Look at you,” Chris growls, his voice rough as he watches you unravel. “So fucking close, huh? Don’t even try to hide it.”

"Chris—please, I'm gonna come."

“Fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your waist, his fingers rubbing against your hips, slapping them gently, urging you to rub your cunt against him faster. “Let go for me, come all over my thigh baby."

You can’t stop it now. The buildup is too much, too overwhelming. Your breath hitches as the first wave of pleasure crashes over you, the tight knot in your stomach unraveling as you gasp for air, completely at his mercy.

As soon as you come, Chris slows your movements, his hand still gripping your waist as he pulls you gently away from him, the two of you breathing heavily. He chuckles, smiling at you, his lips detaching from your neck so that he can sit up straight, your pussy still directly in front of him, nearly twitching.

Chris tilts his head, watching you with that same cocky smirk, his fingers still teasing over your soaked skin. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “So fucked out already, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

His thumb brushes over your clit, the sensitivity making you jolt, and he grins. “Still twitching for me,” he muses, dragging his fingers down your clit, spreading the wetness just to tease you. “You want more, don’t you?”

Your breath is shaky, your body still coming down from the high, but you can’t deny the way you ache for more. You nod, unable to form words, but Chris just tuts, shaking his head.

“Use your words,” he instructs, his fingers pausing right at your entrance, the anticipation making your head spin. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin as his lips ghost over the marks he left on your neck. His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread open for him.

“I already made you come once,” he murmurs, teasing the tip of one finger inside you, barely pushing in. “You think you deserve another?”

Chris watches you squirm beneath him, his smirk deepening as he drags his fingers all along your cunt, barely touching where you need him most. His rings are cold against your heated skin, the metal sending a shiver up your spine as they trail closer to your aching pussy.

“Still shaking,” he mutters, amused. “That sensitive already slut?”

Before you can respond, he presses two fingers inside you, slow but deep, stretching you open. The coolness of his rings contrasting sharply with the absolute heat and wetness between your legs, making you gasp, your body tensing at the sensation.

Chris groans at the feeling, watching your reaction like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.“Fuck,” he breathes, his fingers curling just right, the chilled metal pressing against your walls. “Feel that? Bet you’ve never had anything this good inside you before, and it's just my fingers, ma.” He pumps his fingers lazily, just enough to make you whimper.

His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him, his thumb pressing possessively into your skin. “You’re so fucking warm,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his fingers moving deeper, twisting slightly so the pads press against that perfect spot inside you. “And so goddamn tight.”

Your hips jerk, chasing the friction, but Chris holds you down with ease, his grip tightening as he smirks. “Nah,” he chuckles, slowing his movements on purpose, flicking his head to shake the brown hair out of his eyes.

“You take what I give you. Nothing more.”

He pulls his fingers almost all the way out, letting the cold bands of his rings drag against your entrance before pushing them back in again, deliberately slow, as he murmurs, “You love it, don’t you?”

“The way my rings feel inside you. Fucking you open, stretching you out, while you just lay there and take it.”

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles as he curls his fingers again, the mix of cold and heat driving you insane. “Come on, baby,” he purrs, his lips brushing your ear. “Give me another. I want to feel you come all over my fingers.”

"Oh fuck— I—" Chris is relentless, his fingers curling inside you with precision, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit.

“That’s it,” Chris murmurs, watching you, his smirk dripping with satisfaction. “You gonna come for me again? Gonna make a mess all over my fingers baby?”

You can barely think, barely breathe, your body tightening around him, you're so damn close you can feel it about to snap. You reach your hands up, your nails digging into his shoulders, your breath catching as he fucks you with his fingers.

But then—

“Chris?”

The voice is muffled but close, floating in from just outside the door. Your entire body tenses, the haze of pleasure shattered in an instant. Your eyes snap open, panic flashing through you as another voice chimes in.

“Yo, Chris, you in there?”

Chris freezes for half a second, his jaw clenching, his fingers still pumping inside of you. “Shhh,” he hums, brushing his mouth against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw before leaning back, whispering, "You gotta be fuckin' kidding.."

His eyes flicker toward the door as another knock sounds.

“Yo, Chris, come on, man!”

Chris sighs, shaking his head as he looks at you, still spread out in front of him, still trembling, still desperate. He smirks.

“Guess they really need me,” he muses, pumping his fingers into you for the last few times, sighing. "God this pussy is so fuckin' good.. I don't wanna leave without filling it all up.."

“Fuck, Chris,” you whimper, barely even aware of how loud you sound, too lost in the feeling of his fingers still working you open. You don’t care if they hear—you just need him to keep going, need him to push you over the edge before it’s too late.

Chris groans, his jaw clenching like he’s just as frustrated as you are. “Shit, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb swiping over your clit in one last, devastating motion. “You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg.”

You let out a desperate, frustrated whine, clenching around him, your body so close to breaking. But before you can even think about falling over that edge, he pulls his fingers out completely, leaving you empty, aching, throbbing with need.

Chris brings his slick fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean with a smirk before leaning down, his lips barely lingering over yours. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before getting up, adjusting himself, running a hand through his hair as if to wipe the sex off of him.

The knocking at the door grows more impatient, voices calling his name again. Chris sighs, shaking his head before glancing back at you one last time.

“Dunno if I’ll see you again,” he mutters, almost like he’s thinking out loud. Then his smirk returns, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess we’ll see, huh?”

And with that, he’s gone, leaving you panting, soaked, and completely in shock.

02

You’re still in bed, the only light in the room coming from your phone screen as you hover over the post button.

Your breath is uneven, pulse pounding in your ears. The memory is still so sharp,his hands on you, his breath against your ear, the way he left you hanging, knowing exactly what he was doing. The way he smirked before walking out that door, leaving you desperate, wrecked, ruined.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you scroll through the story you just typed out, everything so fresh in your head as if it had happened just a few seconds ago.

No one would ever think that this was anything different than your usual posts about Chris or Matt, not one of your followers would ever imagine that this all could be true, that all of this truly happened just a few days ago.

Your legs press together just thinking about him again, a dull ache still lingering between them as the memory rushes back—his thigh between yours, his fingers digging into your hips, his voice murmuring filth into your ear. The way he left you breathless, trembling, on the edge of something devastating, only to walk away at the very last second.

Your teeth sink into your lip, a shaky exhale slipping past them as your thumb lingers over the post button.

And then, before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers press that shiny blue buttton.

Post uploaded.

thank you for reading ! ♡

masterlist

first mini series! tried to make it so immersive for us tumblr girlies because god i wish this would happen to me

[thetadispatcher]

Vincent looked up at him and gave him a small smile, showing he appreciated the gesture. He knew it probably didn't mean that much to other people, but to him it meant a lot.

He liked knowing he had other people outside of those who called him family that cared, and didn't mind showing it to help him understand situations or just feel better about them.

The AP700 rested his head back against the other android, deciding he'd completely ignore Dan and Rook to focus on what Bishop was doing.

Nines gave him a calculating look, he had experience with people who would use anything to try to upset him. His human partner did it almost constantly to him, so he could easily recognize when someone else was attempting to do the same.

The only thing he needed any time to figure out was why, it seemed like everyone always had a different reason for why they were trying to get a reaction out of him. Gavin's was just because he liked to be an annoyance, and the fact he couldn't get Nines to react upset him.

Not that he cared, as he enjoyed watching the detective flush with anger whenever Nines didn't give him the reaction he was looking for. Not that he would show the human that he found his small shows of anger endearing.

"I am not that rebellious, no more then Connor is." He wouldn't call Sixty rebellious as the RK800 seemed to be down to do just about anything, he was more of an accidental troublemaker.

"And it's not like the military could do anything about it now if they did find out." Androids had rights now, and they couldn't do anything about the military androids Cyberlife failed to destroy as they were considered people. Also it would likely cause a lot of issues that wouldn't be worth the time and money to deal with.

John didn't see them doing anything about it ever, the androids didn't know anything he would consider damaging if it were to get out. And he never saw service, so he never learned any truly damaging information that the military would be concerned about.

"He might be, considering the fact he was already deviant when he was deactivated as we didn't have to convert him." Dan wasn't sure what to make of that possibility, but Kelvin was the oldest recorded deviant they knew of so far.

He just wasn't about to share that information as he felt the last thing androids needed was to know their god might be real, some might be a little disappointed to find out what he was like.

"I never said he was dumb, he can do some very complicated tasks quite well. Sure he does have his moments where he does something that one would call dumb, but he can hardly be held accountable for it considering his condition." Kelvin was surprisingly good at things one wouldn't expect someone in his condition to excel at, even if he did have times where he acted more childlike then a normal android.

"We are trying to teach him sign language and how to write, but it's a slow process as he sometimes will need to be retaught things he already learned. But if you think she can talk to him, you're welcome to try. It would be nice to better understand Kelvin just in case there is some mental trauma we don't know about. I would hate to learn about it by accidentally upsetting him and still not fully understand the reaction, it would make helping him calm down hard." Even a little more information would be useful, as it might give them a hint on where to look for more.

"Yes, that is correct. He was a gift to the studio that they really didn't care enough to keep, they deposed of him the first chance they got." Brent didn't seem bothered by the studio's blatant disregard for him, in fact he seemed to have expected the treatment and felt nothing about. The JB300 was one of the androids that showed no mental affects from being thrown away, and he even seemed thankful it happened.

"We have a few other ones, ones that you would recognize as a lot of people from your generation are the ones who were ordering these custom units." He could see why someone would want an android of their favorite characters, but he could also understand why they'd be thrown away. They only lasted as long as their novelty or until they needed an expensive repair thanks to being custom.

"Only one other one is present on the property currently, if you'd like I can introduce you to him." Dan knew he would be less bothered by being recognized as a fictional character, Brent just seemed to hate it as he wanted to be his own person and not Data. But the JB300 was okay with it if the person respected the fact he had picked a new name and didn't constantly remind him of his appearance.

The android looked over once again, waiting for Rook to snap back at him. When it was clear she intended to leave him alone he glanced back to Vincent. If his communication skills were poor, he felt he was about to set a new low, but still reached to give his friend a gentle pat in reassurance. Everything was fine, they were just having a feisty mutant over for a bit.

Bishop smirked. That gave him something to work with.

"Yes, that is expected behavior from the rebellious youngest brother."

Even the most collected deviant had to deal with their own emotions and while he couldn't say for sure how prominent Nines' ego was, Bishop would still poke at him until he got a reaction.

It was entertaining enough to him, in any case. He had no reason to stop.

"That's typical of private contractors." he mused, "So you were saved entirely by greed alone. I suppose there is some irony in that."

Much like the fact that androids were simply being tossed in a landfill instead of being recycled. It seemed Cyberlife's entire existence was simply tainted by incompetence.

Rook watched the way Dan's skin regenerated, glad to see no damage was done. The last thing she wanted was to be accused of having hurt the most important guy in the house, especially when she had done nothing but ask questions.

"Who knows, maybe he's patient zero." She shrugged, "Maybe he's like Sixty and likes the way he is. It's never good to assume somebody who's very energetic and content with what they have is dumb. I have a friend who is just as bouncy as Kelvin and she's smarter and wiser than most people."

It didn't look like Kelvin was causing real trouble on purpose. He just moved quietly and that made it easy to forget he was even there doing his own thing.

"So that's why you've got Commander Data running about. Maybe you could ask Willow to talk to Kelvin. He can't talk to you, but she can probably translate for him."

[wlwsoccerfics]

That was scary(LucyBronzeXCatleyReader)

Summary: you have a medical emergency(Appendix) and your girlfriend is freaked out.

You have felt sick all day and had some pain in your stomach. It was just one sided though. The pain was just terrible and that said something cause you have a very high pain tolerance.

You were in the changing room with the team. Trying to tie the laces of your football boots, but the movement almost makes you vomit. Your girlfriend is watching you with worry in her eyes. But doesn't say anything cause you have told her multiple times today that you were fine.

"period cramps?" Keira whispered into lucys ear. Lucy shook her head no. Knowing it wasn't time for that yet.

"i don't know. She keeps telling me how good things are and that she is fine!" Lucy stated and sighed softly.

You could tell that you started to develop a fever, the pain was also getting worse by the Minute but when you tried to walk it off, you didn't go far. Beding over in pain. Groaning softly before going down, hitting the floor, crying out in pain.

"Babe!" Lucy kneeled down in front of you, checking you over. She was panicking but tried to appear calm for your sake.

"what hurts?" She asked.

"stomach." You cry out. She picked you up and carried you to the medics. Who checked you over quickly before putting you into the ambulance that was there for the Game and you got a Ride to the hospital. Lucy never leaving your side. Keira was calling Leah so she could inform your sister Steph about what had just happened.

You were brought into surgery right away. Cause your Appendix had ruptured. Lucy was in the waiting room, pacing around. Sending Updates about you into the Team Chat. Then her Phone went off. It was your sister.

"Lucy, how bad is it?" Your sister asked right away. it was evident in her voice that she had been crying.

"her appendix had ruptured. She is in surgery right now!" Lucy explained. Trying not to tear up. Truth was she felt guilty for not dragging you to a doctor cause you claimed to be fine.

"we will be there in an hour or so. Traffic is crazy! Kyra is driving!" She replied rambling on. It was clear how worried your sister was about you. So was Kyra, who was not just Stephs little pest, but also yours.

"Drive Safe Guys. We don't need another one in the Hospital!" Lucy told them. She probably has never been so scared in her Life.

Kyra and Steph arrived just in time for the doctor to explain to Lucy how the surgery went.

"the surgrey went without any complications. We would like to keep her over night and if things are okay by tomorrow she can leave. But she has to rest. So is there someone that can take care of her?" The doctor looked around.

Lucy, Steph & Kyra all said yes at the same time.

"she has lots of people that can help her!" Lucy stated.

It was around 2 hours later and you were fully awake now.

"well this was an experience i could have done without." You replied tiredly. Your sister looked at you.

"us too, y/n! Us too! I mean you scared the crap out of me!" Steph replied and i wasn't even there when you collapsed!" She stated. Sighing softly.

"You scared me too, weirdo!" Kyra answered.

"i was there and honestly it was the scariest Moment of my Life!" Lucy told you and kissed your forehead. You frowned softly.

"i am sorry for scaring you! Wasn't my Intention!" You said and took Lucys Hand in yours. "Honestly i didn't know it was that bad!" You admitted. Squeezing your girlfriends hand gently. She squeezed it back just as gently.

"maybe next time someone ask you If you are okay, answer honestly and don't play it down!" Lucy let you know her thoughts.

"i agree with Lucy. Seriously y/n, it's okay to be honest! You don't have to be strong all the time." Steph said and looked at you with worry in her eyes.

"this was warning enough in hope!" Kyra answered. And you nodded your head softly.

"yes it was! I promise i will ask for help and don't always try to tough it out anymore!" You let them know. Offering them a small smile.

Lucy stayed with you through the night and you got to leave the hospital to go home the next day but had to rest. Lucy made sure you did. But she wasn't alone. No Kyra and Steph also stayed for a few days before going back to Training.

The Team came to visit you for the next two weeks. Then you were allowed to start with doing some light workouts.

It took you a little over a month for you to be fully back on your feet but as soon as you were you proposed to Lucy and she said yes.

So now the two of you had a Wedding to plan.

[joonjuul]

choked on smoke. jjk

pairing: exboyf!jk x reader

wc: 3.2k

warnings: exboyfriend!jk, softdom!jk, kindasubby!jk, jk is a switch??, bro is yearningggg, lots and lots of angst, reader is slightly depressed, breakup mentions, choking, light mouth play, lots and lots of cigarettes, crying mentioned (non sexual), pet names, slight impreg kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight creampie mentions, more pwp don’t hate me

a/n: this was a lot of fun to write. it’s like all my favorite things in one: desperate jungkook, cigarettes, and angst. reqs open!!

╋━

you still remember how it felt. so close to him yet so far. the way your heart thumped in your chest, your cheeks hot with tears, mind racing, palms sweaty. you remembered it almost like it was yesterday. the way he looked into your eyes deeply, before breaking you in ways you never knew were possible.

“this isn’t working.”

you could still hear him now if you focused really hard. you could still hear his laugh. feel his skin against yours. the way he used to twirl your hair, or circle patterns along your bare back as you laid beside him. you missed him more than anything, and every time you thought about him it only deepened the wound.

it’s been a month now. a month since you last saw him. last touched him. you feel the cold gust of wind rustle against your clothes as you bring the dainty cigarette butt up to your chapped lips, inhaling slowly before feeling the intoxication fill your lungs. even dressed in your warmest clothes, you still couldn’t escape the icy january wind, or the coldness that consumed your insides from sheer loneliness.

you look down at the cigarette in your hands, watching carefully as the ashes fall to the ground, the wind picking up pieces and allowing them to float off, find another spec of air to pollute. but the thought of you being a smoker now is only nauseating. you only started smoking so you could feel closer to him, so you could experience his scent one last time. it wasn’t a habit you picked up by your own means, just another way for him to poison you for the rest of your life.

you flick the half smoked cigarette off your balcony and turn to face the slider door, entering your now slightly chilled apartment.

everything was dark now, it wasn’t something you could fully explain or put into words, but your life was dark, your apartment was dark, everything about you was dark, and you knew he was the reason why.

you daydream as your feet carry you to the kitchen, eyes dancing over the messy sink, the fridge that was practically empty, and the cupboards that were collecting dust before turning back around and slumping down on your couch.

you weren’t sure what to do these days. it always felt like you were waiting for him to come home, but he never did. you could easily kick your feet up and watch a movie, do something to distract yourself, but you never did. you simply wallowed in the pain and memories of your last moments together, wishing you could’ve done something differently.

your mind drifts as you hear the subtle patter of rain begin outside.

at least it wasn’t snow.

how could he give up on you so easily? after all those years? it was never something you could fully comprehend. how one day he looked at you with his eyes full of love, and the next like you never existed to him, like he never loved you at all. you sometimes entertained the idea that he had found someone knew, something to make you hate him, make him easier to forget instead of having to live with the fact that he simply didn’t love you anymore, but it never worked. he was the most loyal man you knew, even during your hardships. it wouldn’t be fair to him to paint him as the bad guy when in reality, neither of you did anything wrong.

you’re quickly brought back to reality at the sound of a knock at your apartment door. it was almost strange, you never had visitors, in fact you didn’t really have any friends either. it could very well be your mom checking in again, but it was late, and she never liked to walk in the city at night.

before you can finish the thought, you’re in front of the door, your hand on the doorknob as you turn it slightly, the chill of the hallway gently caressing your face as your eyes fall on a very tall, very wet man standing before you.

not just any man.

“jungkook?”

his eyes are bloodshot, his face cold, and his clothes dripping with remnants of the weather outside.

“can i come in?”

his voice felt like your very first cigarette, the way you inhaled it perfectly the day he left you, the way the poison immediately swept through your bloodstream and straight to your head, leaving you dizzy and desperate for more.

you’re unable to garner a response, only able to stand beside your door, allowing him space to brush past you and into your once bright and welcoming home. but somehow, he doesn’t notice how your apartment has changed, and he doesn’t notice how you’ve changed either. how much weight you’ve lost, how you’ve cut your hair at least 3 times, how your undereyes are littered with bags instead of freckles.

you shut the door behind you as you watched him nervously pace throughout your kitchen, eyes dashing between you and the floor. his lips were pouty, like they always were after he cried. why was he here?

“jungkook, what’s going on?”

he stops in his tracks, turning quickly to face you, but never stepping closer, almost as if you’re too fragile for him to be near.

“i fucked up, y/n.”

silence fills the space between you, only the gentle, distant sound of raindrops filling your ears. you want to answer, you want to scream, you want to fall to your knees and beg for him back, but you don’t. instead you stand still, watching him intently as his eyes narrow in on you.

“i fucked up, bad.”

he takes a step closer, watching your reaction carefully, examining your body language. he looks desperate, like his life is filled with anguish, like he’s as broken as you are.

“i quit smoking.” he mutters under his breath. “i knew how much you hated it, so i quit.”

silence.

“i started smoking.”

his gaze shifts at your response, his brows furrowed together in a way that makes your knees weak, a way that makes your body crawl with need.

“why?”

he steps closer again. you watch as his hands go down instinctively to your waist, but stop before he’s able to make contact.

“because they reminded me of you.”

your eyes meet perfectly, dancing between each other as you feel the air between you thicken. the distant rain now turning into something of white noise as your mind zones in on one thing; him. you can see the hurt on his face, but you’re sure he can see the hurt on yours as well.

“why did you leave me?”

it comes out barely over a whisper, and you’re not sure why you said it, but it was a question that had been repeating in your mind for weeks. you thought you knew the answer, but seeing him here in front of you now, you weren’t so sure.

“you really don’t know do you?”

you shake your head no.

“you’re like a flame, y/n.”

he takes another step forward, his hand falling to the side of your face as he cups your skin gently, his touch igniting something within you.

“so beautiful, so warm, but always burning. i’m covered in scars from holding you to close.”

his words cut deep, but for some reason you still can’t understand. he was your world, your love, you never would’ve done anything to hurt him.

“i never asked you to break yourself for me. i just wanted you to stay.” your voice is hushed, breaking the barriers between you as you feel your chest get heavier, like you’re smoking him now, like he’s been the real poison all along.

“you pushed me away long before i left.” he continues to lean in towards you, his touch on your face only deepening the crimson on your cheek.

“you’re the one who gave up.” your voice is raw as you stare up at him, watching as he carefully tucks a hair behind your ear, hie eyes filled with desperation as you now realize how close you are to him.

“do you think i wanted to? you don’t even know how badly i wanted to stay, or how much i still do.” his stare intensifies as his gaze shifts down to your lips. his hand against your cheek is tender, but his face screams urgency as you both linger in the silence for a minute, your breaths mingling as you each wait for the other to respond, or to come closer.

“i still do.” jungkook mutters before tightening his grip on your face gently, pulling you towards him as he engulfs your lips in his. the kiss starts slow, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters. but soon the hunger strikes, mouths turning desperate as the weight of everything left unsaid pours out into each touch, each movement. before you know it your hands are tangled in his hair, your back pressed against the wall as he feverishly moves down your body, his lips finding every patch of skin he missed so deeply while you were gone.

“i never stopped wanting you.” he mutters in between kisses as he dives into the crook of your neck, peppering you with tiny bruises and marks, imprinting you in any way he can.

your movements are in sync, like everything you felt the last few months was mimicked within him, like he was struggling just as much as you were.

his hands quickly find the hem of your pants, pulling them down with intensity as his hands push your hips further into the wall. his strong arms holding you in place as he begins to rut against you, every moment he spent missing you now rolled into a tight coil within his stomach. every bone in his body yearned for you, for your touch, your scent, and he was painfully overwhelmed, his hard on probing you with every needy grind of his hips.

you moan out carelessly, his name seeping from your lips as your hands pull and tug his damp hair, finger nails falling to his back and scratching gently as his shirt, almost instinctually.

“need you.” he whimpers, swiftly picking you up and carrying you across the room, effortlessly tossing you on the couch before he falls on top of you, his crotch zeroing in on yours as his movements build in intensity.

“you made it so damn hard to forget you.” his voice shakes as he leans down into your ear, each word coming out in a desperate gasp as he tangles himself between your legs. your hands quickly fall to the hem of his pants as you tug gently, silently signaling for him to take them off, to which he obliges, removing his shirt as well in the process.

it was like seeing him for the first time, bare in front of you, sweat glistening on his forehead, cheeks flushed. it was more than you could’ve ever asked for, it was worth every cigarette, every tear, every lonely night.

you feel his fingers fall to your panties, pushing them to the side gently as he inspects your cunt feverishly.

“so wet and warm, just how i remembered it.” his breaths are shallow and quick as he strokes your folds gently before carefully aligning his cock at your entrance. his gaze shifts from your bodies up to your face, carefully examining your features, awaiting for your confirmation, but you’re only able to respond by bucking your hips forward with a gentle whine.

you watch as his features soften, the corners of his lips turning up into a gentle smile, a smile of familiarity as he places gentle, reassuring strokes on your thighs, and leaning down to whisper sweet nothings to you as he engulfs your mouth into another hot kiss, pushing his hips up with ease as he stretches you out.

the sting is long and rough, worse than you remembered, and it’s obvious that he’s affected by your tightness, his face falling into the crook of your neck as he whimpers, falling victim to your cunt’s subtle praise.

“god you make me crazy, i just can’t resist you.” his voice is filled with desperation as he bottoms out inside of you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he struggles to hold himself in place, allowing you the time to adjust.

you moan out at the feeling of his tip nudging against your g-spot, he always fit inside of you so perfectly, but you knew how needy he became when he wasn’t able to move immediately after entering you. one of the subtle sides to his unspoken submission for you.

“please. please let me move.” he begs, each word coming out in a desperate gasp as his hips gentle twitch and flick against you, his body filled with an overwhelming heat.

“go ahead, baby.”

at the sound of your words he immediately falls on a quick but gentle pace. his hips rolling into you perfectly as he watches your face contort with pleasure and desire. he was completely at your mercy, he had never been so desperate to see you cum, the way your face lights up and your eyes roll back into your head. it’s all he’s been able to think about since the day he left, and he wanted nothing more than to bring you to the edge over and over again, until your body has had enough.

“fuck i missed you so much.” he groans out, his body melting into yours completely as he sets on a steady pace, the head of his cock perfectly brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. you can’t control the way your hands lose their place, bouncing from his perfect hair, to leaving crescent shaped marks on his back, to his ink scattered arms.

you’re a moaning mess, his every move perfectly aligning within you, as if your bodies were made for one another. you could feel the intensity in the room shift the moment his eyes laid on yours, staring deep into your soul as he quickly snaps his hips back, your walls constricting at the sudden force, causing a dark chuckle to leave his mouth.

“forgot you liked it rough, baby. forgive me i want to savor this as long as i can. you look so perfect right now.” his voice is dark and raspy as he slows his thrusts, bringing a hand down to slowly circle your clit, the touch sending shivers through your spine as you toss your head back, releasing a guttural moan. he hadn’t touched you in so long, you hadn’t felt him in so long, and the way he was making you feel could only be described as euphoric.

“there you go, baby.” his praises only spur you on more as you bring your hips up to meet his, your bodies moving in perfect synchronicity.

“i’m hopeless, baby. hopelessly yours.”

“keep going, that’s a girl.”

“god i’m addicted you.”

“you’re so beautiful, it’s torture.”

every word, every phrase spilling from his mouth go in one ear and out the other. all you can think about is how perfectly his cock slides in and out of you, the sounds of your wetness mixed with the now distant pattering of rain and his quick breaths all you can hear as you feel a coil build in your stomach. you wanted nothing more than to cum on him, to watch his face twist as your walls tighten around him, to moan his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. he was yours, and you were his.

jungkook looks down at you, watching as your eyes clench shut, your lack of response only telling him one thing; you were close.

“sweet girl-“ he mutters, pulling his cock out of you and bringing an arm under your back to quickly flip you over, your stomach consumed with the warmth of the bed as he easily slips back inside, his breath hot against your neck. “i’m desperate to see you cum.” his pace quickens, his voice shaky as he begins to fuck into you faster now, watching closely as your constricting hole tugs him back in with each thrust.

your head is spinning, your body on fire, the feeling only intensifying as he reaches forward, gently tapping his fingers on your mouth as you engulf them fully, tasing the sweetness of your slick mixed with his precum. he curls his fingers, flattening them on your tongue as he draws them over your chin landing on your neck to grip it tightly. a finger on either side of your throat carefully cutting off your breathing as you feel your stomach tighten.

“cum for me pretty girl.“ his words linger in the air as you feel yourself get drawn towards the edge, hurtling over it before you have time to think. your legs shake as you feel a wave of bliss wash over you, your mind going blank as you feel your cunt gush around him.

jungkook watches intently, his thrusts becoming messy as he feels you tighten around him, his cock stalling within you as he relishes in the sensation.

“fuck.”

his hips falter as he tries to fall back to his original pace, fighting against your sealed walls.

you moan out loudly, causing him to quickly remove his hand around your neck and place gentle kisses along your back, his touch soothing any pain that may have occurred.

“shhh, it’s okay baby, i’ve got you.” your body doesn’t even process the overstimulation because you’re stuck on a high. you didn’t care that it burned, that it was practically unbearable, because it was all for him.

he brings a hand up to your hair, gripping it tightly as his thrusts deepen and increase in speed. his high not far behind yours as you silently pray for him to stay inside you, for him to coat your walls and tie you down, make you his forever.

“god you drive me insane. you have me wrapped around your finger, baby.” the head of his cock hits places inside you you never knew were reachable as he becomes frantic behind you, his body hot to the touch.

“gonna fill you up, baby. you’re never leaving me again.”

and just like that, you finally feel like your life is filled with a sense of light again. whether it be from the brightness of his cum leaking from your cunt, or from the lighter as he brings it up to your lips, carefully igniting the cigarette placed between them.

your eyes flick at him next to you, a sheet of sweat covering his body as he pulls the lighter away. you inhale deeply as you feel the smoke fill your lungs, but it doesn’t feel bitter this time, in fact, it’s rather peaceful.

you exhale, watching as the smoke fills the air between you as you bring the cigarette between his lips, watching his eyes shut in bliss as he fills his lungs with the same sensation.

“you’re pretty when you smoke.” he says as he breathes out, admiring the way your chest heaves gently.

“i learned from the best.”

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts - seungcheol •

seungcheol’s resting bitch face annoys you - in fact, it’s so bothersome it distracts you during meetings - it makes you wonder if he ever smiles

you start glancing at him whenever there’s a chance, even in the hallway like a weirdo

but nothing - he’s like a constantly annoyed statue

worse you almost start to appreciate his face, which is just a new irritation, especially when he starts invading your normal thoughts

you can be enjoying your evening, having a nice dinner, and suddenly you’re wondering if choi seungcheol is having a nice dinner too, is he maybe out laughing with friends, or is he sitting in a sterile white room eating protein bars and listening to classical music like some serial killer - it’s obnoxious the way he’s taken up residence in your brain

this was not what you had in mind, when you idly wondered why he never smiled

it’s when you’re at a conference that you happen to notice something like a grin form on his stupid, handsome face

but it was a split second, so you were sure that didn’t count

you were surprised though when he sat next to you at the bar after the group dinner - you glanced to see him perusing the drinks menu, you also noticed he had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt - you didn’t exactly hate seeing his muscular forearms

you decided it was best to focus on your drink though and to avoid any extra details about seungcheol

but no, no, no because he had to speak

“so what are you drinking anyway?”

you looked over, “me?”

he nodded, “i don’t know anyone else”

you glanced around, realizing you didn’t either

“oh um, some version of a paloma” - you wondered if you could be more basic - a margarita, that was possible more basic

he nodded looking back at the menu, there was a surprising awkward pause until the bartender came back for seungcheol’s order - you were surprised when he ordered the paloma too

it was quiet again until he got his drink and seemed to slightly choke on his first sip, “oof what is this? it’s like soap,” he whined

you watched him looking amazingly animated over the bad taste he had just encountered

“do you not drink often or something?”

“yes, i do, but this is foul,” he whispered

you laughed, “then order something you know you like, you know beer or whatever,” you were just guessing

he shifted uncomfortably, “i drink other things too,” he sounded petulant

you grinned, “oh yeah, i just watched that fun little experiment,” you nodded, “it seemed to go very well”

you watched him blush, “i can drink this, no problem”

you nodded, “umhm, i bet”

he looked supremely annoyed, “yeah, okay, i choke this down, and then i get to pick the next drink”

you couldn’t help but laugh, “okay and what we go back and forth trying to gross one another out?”

he nodded, “i bet you can’t get past one real drink”

you purse your lips and offer your hand, “fine, you’re on - loser has to grade papers for the winner for a week”

he suddenly looked very interested, “only if it’s the intro classes where every response is a garbled nightmare”

you nod in agreement, certain you can win this, “terms accepted”

you shake hands on this devil’s bargain

and you wake up the next day, having no idea who won or lost - in fact the only thing you know is that your lying in bed, fully clothed, and seungcheol is wrapped around you like you’re his personal body pillow

you elbow him roughly, which only makes him press closer

you groan and try to pull free, but he is really holding on - you finally manage to work yourself free, breathing hard from the effort, only to have him pull you back to him

you wanted to scream until you felt the kiss just under your ear and the soft laugh from him, “why are you always fighting me?”

his husky voice caught you off guard, but you quickly snap back, “how am i fighting you?”

he sighed, “you refuse to let anyone in the department get remotely close to you, and every time i invite you to something, you blow me off”

you roll your eyes, “because i don’t like the department’s holiday party?”

he nuzzled closer, “yeah, and every other thing, like game night, which is actually fun”

you were quiet for a moment - you could feel his fingers tracing little designs against your skin

“i do always hope you might show up to be my charades partner because jeff is truly awful,” his breath was so warm against your skin

“jeff is kind of an idiot, though, maybe manage your expectations,” you murmur

he hums in response, his hand wandering lower to your naked thigh

you can’t help yourself, “does jeff like cuddling after a bad night of charades too?”

he laughed to himself, “you’re hopeless”

he leaned up then, you thought he was going to leave or go to the bathroom, but instead he leans over you, gently caging you with his arms, “besides, jeff isn’t really my type” he whispers playfully

“umhm, so what is your type prof. choi?”

his expression is much softer than you think you can handle - he’s looking you over with his tender gaze

all things you’ve cataloged away about him swirl through your mind, like how gorgeous his eyelashes are, how pretty his skin is, how soft his lips look - and he’s so close, his slightly spicy cologne is really nice, you wonder why you had hated it before

it’s when his lips make contact that you hear you own soft moan, which seems to spur him on

you feel his hand on your thigh again, pushing up your skirt, you pull his hair and lick into him just as you feel his fingers brush the crotch of your panties

he’s almost too delicate when he fingers you, but you still feel an orgasm wash over you

you feel him lean up and watch as he unbuttons his shirt, without thinking you reach out and drag your nails lightly down his chest and abs, leaving slender pink lines

you glance up to see his smile, “cute, kitten”

you nod, “want to fuck your cute kitten?”

he nods slowly, licking his lips and unbuttoning his pants

you’re surprised to see his cock spring free, already half hard and only getting bigger

you lie back, opening your thighs wider - he watches you pull off your top and bra, he works his cock and groans softly when he sees you squeeze your own nipples

“play with me daddy” you coo, reaching down to push down your underwear and finger yourself sloppily

he nods, “yeah, kitten, get your pussy nice and wet for me”

you giggle when he pushes your hand away and picks up your legs, throwing them over his shoulders so your ass doesn’t even touch the bed

and when he plunges inside, you arch off the bed, feeling the intense way he’s stretching you

“perfect, kitten, taking me all the way the first time” he says sounding breathless himself

you’re panting and reaching for him, grabbing anything to help ground yourself

but then you feel him start moving, slowly at first and then he’s snapping his hips, you know your moaning from the intensity of it

you press lightly against his chest, “‘m so close,” you whimper

he groans, “i know kitten, i can feel you getting tighter,” he thrusts into you roughly, “you’re gonna come for me?”

you nod, breathless and grasping for the edge of the mattress, you’re moaning and whining, his cock is so good, you’re certain he’s fucking into your cervix at this point

you yelp and feel him pull out quickly, “oh kitten, fuck you really are perfect,” he whispers as you squirt for him, your juices gushing freely, your thighs shaking, he gives a soft smack to your pussy causing another spurt of cum, he smirks

and then he slides back in, his moan is so lewd - he only lasts a few more thrusts before he’s coming too

you find yourself lying on his chest, his cock still inside you - you aren’t sure what to do other than enjoy his warmth

at least the conference is over and you have a late flight, otherwise, you might be in a rush for him to pull out

[apomaro-mellow]

The Road to You 2

Part 1

As far as Doug, Jeff, and Gareth knew, Eddie was simply running from the police and Jason’s mob. The less they knew about monsters he had faced, the better. They visited him in the hospital once they had heard where he was. All three were surprised to see that Steve Harrington was in the room. They were even more surprised to find that this was a regular thing from Eddie’s uncle. Then they learned from Dustin that apparently Steve had been with Eddie during all of this. 

It made a solid rock of guilt settle in their stomachs. Jeff was the only one who had said anything outright to Eddie about it though.

“I wish you hadn’t been alone”, Jeff had said.

“I wasn’t alone”, Eddie replied. “I had a whole party with me.”

Jeff scoffed. “I love Dustin, but the rest of them? Especially Steve?”

“Steve was…”, Eddie chuckled. “He was the MVP, man.”

“Not the way Henderson says it. If you let him tell the story, you saved the whole world.”

Eddie smiled. “Let’s call it a team effort.”

It was an odd new status quo to get used to. But there wasn’t much to do about it but getting used to it. Anytime they wanted to visit Eddie, Steve seemed to be there. Eventually, someone had to say something about it. And that someone was Gareth. 

“So can we talk about how weird this is?”, Gareth said, in between snacking on chips.

“Look, I get it”, Eddie said. “But if you knew him like I knew him…” He shook his head and smiled. “Harrington’s actually kind of a dork. He’s not…” Eddie was about to say Steve wasn’t like he was in high school, but that wasn’t true. Eddie didn’t truly know Steve back then. It took the end of the world for him to see him as he was. “He’s not what I thought he was. He’s cool. Case in point, he got me this tape recorder”, Eddie gestured to it, sitting on the floor.

“What for?”, Gareth asked.

“Song ideas. One great thing about near death experiences - inspiration”, Eddie grinned. He had felt inspired since he’d awakened. But one of the not-so-great things about near death experiences was losing control over your body, even if it wasn’t permanent. Eddie had been unable to write down his ideas. He couldn’t even doodle. Dustin was the one to bring up recording his voice. But it was Steve that bought it for him.

“Can’t believe you got me this. Wait. Am I dying? Do I only have three months? Oh say it isn’t so, Steve!”

“Yeah, yeah just don’t make me regret it”, Steve rolled his eyes.

Now whenever the feeling struck Eddie, he could record them, whether it was lyrics or a hummed melody. He was slowly regaining his fine motor skills, so it would happen someday. But for now, this helped.

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

Mike, Will, and Dustin started clearing their stuff, packing it away. Eddie blinked, then he looked at the clock and just barely held back a sigh. Visiting hours were just about up.

“You nerds got any plans tonight?”, he asked conversationally. 

“Yeah, we’re having a movie night at Mike’s”, Will said.

Eddie knew who was included when they said ‘we’. Their whole crew usually turned up to these things. And that included Steve. Eddie found himself almost wishing he could go. What was Steve like when he watched movies? It was odd but he wanted to know. He got the next best thing though - talking about it with him the next day.

“Of course, Dustin thinks he could totally beat the Thing”, Steve said, legs crossed, magazine over his lap.

Eddie snorted and rolled his eyes. “Didn’t he raise one of those monsters in his turtle tank?”

“Exactly! Everyone else had to remind him too.”

“Do you think you could figure it out?”, Eddie asked.

“I guessed who it was and was right every time. I’m pretty much an expert on the Thing”, Steve said.

“It’s pretty crazy how it got MacReady so early.”

“....What are you talking about? MacReady wasn’t a Thing.”

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

Doug heard shouting from Eddie’s room and it didn’t raise any alarms until he realized it was Steve Harrington’s voice he was hearing. He picked up the pace and thrust the door open, only to see Steve pacing around Eddie’s bed, gesturing wildly.

“It was Childs! It was goddamn Childs!”

“It got MacReady when he was leaving that message!”, Eddie shouted, arms moving stiffly but still conveying his frustration.

But Doug knew when Eddie was arguing, versus when he was debating. Eddie argued when he felt he was in the right and someone was trying to tell him he was wrong. His temper would rise, his voice would start cracking, and he looked almost mean enough to scare small children. But sometimes Eddie liked to argue for the fun of it. Debating. He’d still get loud, but there was no irritation in his voice. And he smiled. Like he was doing at Steve right now.

Steve looked frustrated but wasn’t backing down. If Doug didn’t know any better, he’d say that Harrington was enjoying himself too. 

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

Eddie wasn’t better, but he was well enough to be discharged at last. Solid foods were no longer off limits. He could stand for short periods of time. And his mobility had improved. And there was also the fact that he’d been cleared of all charges. Eddie had grown sick of that room in all this time. The same plain ceilings, floors, and walls. But now that he was being pushed towards the exit in a wheelchair, he felt nervous.

Wayne put a hand on his shoulder. He knew his uncle could sense his apprehension. If it were anyone else, Eddie would hate how they were able to see right through him. But he knew Wayne would never use it against him.

“Ready to go back out into the world?”

Eddie took a deep breath before nodding. Wayne brought him outside. And there was Steve. Leaning against his uncle’s car. Suddenly the outside world didn’t seem as scary. Eddie tried tamping that feeling down but it won out and bubbled up when Steve saw them and smiled.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So uh, your uncle asked me to come and take your chair in my car. Said his didn’t have enough room and with your van totaled…”

“Harrington’s moving service, you’ve really diversified.”

“Shut up”, Steve smiled.

Steve took the chair and put it in his car once Eddie was situated in Wayne’s. They took off then, but Eddie was confused to see them pull up to Steve’s house and not the little place Wayne had gotten for his troubles. But Eddie figured it out when he saw a small face (possibly Erica’s) in the corner of a window. She disappeared, presumably to tell the others that they had arrived. It was the best surprise-not-surprise party ever thrown for him. 

The party lasted hours and at times Eddie felt overwhelmed. He didn’t think there were enough people in his life that cared this much. And he certainly never thought police chief Hopper would ever attend a party in his honor. It reminded him that he still had to learn about his part in all of this. Eddie had learned bits and pieces here and there, but it was hard to really string the story together like that. He’d save that for later though. Right now, he could use some air. He asked Wayne to wheel him outside and he sat by the pool. He lit up and was able to get a few drags in before Steve came out to join him.

“Here to lecture me at Buckley’s behest?”, Eddie teased.

“No, I’m here to bum one off you”, Steve said. He pulled up a lawn chair right next to him. Eddie handed a cigarette to Steve, then his lighter. Eddie averted his eyes, pretending to be interested in the treeline. For some reason, watching Steve felt like too much right now.

“God what I would do for some weed”, Steve breathed out.

“You and me both”, Eddie said, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “But Rick’s still in jail. And my stash went through the Earth’s crust.”

“Shit, don’t remind me. I could use the weed for that too.”

“...The memories?”, Eddie ventured to ask.

Steve lied back on the chair, eyes to the sky. “Don’t you wish you could forget? Even just a while?”

“Yeah. Yeah of course I do. Shit the nightmares I get…” Eddie’s hand went to his side. Sometimes he still felt the teeth in him. There were nights where he swore there was a hole that went through his stomach. He’d wake up in a sweat, afraid to touch and find that his hands went all the way through. “Does it ever get easier?”

“I don’t know”, Steve answered honestly. “Never gone that long without the next crisis.”

Eddie didn’t know how to feel. There seemed to be this finality with things but also everyone still seemed on edge. Like it was the end but…was it? Even Eddie felt like that was too good to be true. But the thought of having to deal with this all over again before a full year had even passed… Eddie didn’t want this to happen again in ten years, let alone ten months.

“What if it’s really over?”

Steve blew smoke out of his mouth before replying. “I don’t know.”

Eddie let that hang in the air. Because he didn’t know either. Every single plan, idea, and dream he had back in March seemed like nothing now. 

“Your agenda’s open then. Good”, Eddie nodded.

“Good?”, Steve raised a brow.

“Yeah. It means you can be my manservant now that I’m discharged. It’s gonna be a lot of work, but I think you’re up to it.”

“I don’t come cheap, Munson.”

“Rick’s not my only plug”, Eddie winked.

“Deal.”

Part 3 coming soon

[walble]

What's coming up in your love life?

This is meant to be a fun, general reading, so it may not resonate with everyone. Take what resonates for you and leave the rest behind! Please take a moment to breathe, focus on your intuition, and choose the photo that calls to you. Each holds a unique message for you!

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 1

A period of introspection and self-discovery is unfolding in your love life. This may manifest as a time of solitude, whether by choice or circumstance, where you are encouraged to reflect on past experiences, personal growth, and what you truly desire in a partner. There is a sense of deep contemplation, where external distractions fade, allowing you to see relationships from a wiser and more enlightened perspective. This phase is necessary for gaining clarity before stepping into the next chapter of your romantic journey.

As this cycle of reflection comes to a close, a significant shift is on the horizon. A sense of completion or closure may take place, allowing you to move forward with a renewed outlook on love. However, uncertainty still lingers—hidden emotions, unspoken truths, or a feeling of being unable to fully grasp a situation may arise. Trusting your intuition will be crucial during this time, as things are not always as they seem. You may need to navigate moments of confusion or deception, but doing so will ultimately lead to greater understanding.

Commitment and stability will soon become important themes, encouraging you to align with what truly resonates with your values and beliefs in relationships. Whether this means strengthening an existing connection, seeking a deeper bond, or reassessing what long-term commitment means to you, this period will bring clarity to what you need. Balancing different aspects of your life—whether it’s love, work, or personal growth—will be essential, as you may find yourself juggling multiple priorities.

Despite this, a sudden burst of energy is set to propel your love life forward. Things that once felt stagnant or unclear will begin to move rapidly, bringing excitement, new opportunities, or unexpected developments. This shift could come in the form of passionate communication, travel, or even a swift change in circumstances that alters your perspective on love. Whatever happens, be prepared for momentum to build quickly—what once seemed distant will soon be within reach.

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 2

A significant transformation is on the horizon, one that will challenge old patterns and beliefs about love. There may be a connection that feels intense, possibly even obsessive, drawing you in with an almost magnetic pull. However, beneath the surface, there are lessons to be learned—this situation is pushing you to question what you truly want in a relationship and whether you are holding onto something that no longer serves you. It’s a time to break free from any limiting attachments or toxic cycles that have kept you stuck in the past.

This period may also bring a strong need for introspection and solitude. Taking a step back from romantic distractions will help you reconnect with your inner wisdom. There is a chance that someone new, or even an unexpected message, could appear when you least expect it, stirring emotions and awakening feelings of curiosity and excitement. However, the real work will be in how you navigate these emotions—will you repeat old habits, or will you embrace a new way of loving and being loved?

Momentum will soon pick up, bringing rapid changes in your love life. Whether it’s a sudden realization, an unexpected encounter, or a shift in an existing connection, things will move quickly. While this may feel overwhelming, trust that it’s leading you toward necessary growth. This is a turning point—what no longer aligns with your higher self is being stripped away to make room for something more meaningful. Embrace the transformation, and you may find yourself stepping into a new chapter with a clearer sense of what love truly means to you.

𐙚 • 𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 3

A deep and emotionally fulfilling connection is on the horizon, one that feels mutual and harmonious. This could signify a strong romantic partnership or the strengthening of an existing bond, where both individuals are emotionally in tune with each other. There is a nurturing and compassionate energy surrounding this connection, suggesting a relationship built on understanding, trust, and emotional depth.

However, there may be some underlying deception or secrecy at play—whether from external influences or within the relationship itself. It's important to remain aware and trust your intuition to navigate any hidden motives or unspoken truths. Balance will also be key in this situation; there may be multiple responsibilities or priorities demanding attention, requiring effort to maintain stability in love and personal life.

Ultimately, this phase marks the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another. There is a sense of fulfillment and completion, as if things are coming full circle. This could indicate reaching an important milestone in love, such as a commitment, deeper emotional connection, or even a realization about what is truly desired in a partnership.

My personalized love readings are on sale for $10 during the whole month of February!! Feel free to message me to book a session or visit my Ko-fi page to schedule one here: https://ko-fi.com/walble

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

More Hooker!Soap (perhaps new series??)

pt.1

Never did you think you would be doing this. God, how desperate were you? Freshman year in University with an Astrophysics major, and you couldn't bring yourself to ask for help on your homework. So, what did you do? Turn to a hooker for help.

You heard of Soap from a friend (her so called best night of her life) and she mentioned how he was military, blows stuff up and shoots shit. Okay so demolitions and sniper? That's physics, right? Close enough, you'll take it. Now, you had no intention of sleeping with him, no. You just needed schoolwork done.

At least it started that way. One study session with him turned into two. Then three. Then you had a test coming up, and it was worth 20% of your grade. He was your go to, your very expensive tutor. Once he noticed that this was just a study session dynamic, he stopped charging you for the sessions. You were sweet, you were funny, and he enjoyed being around you. A strange friendship bloomed.

The day the dynamic between you two shifted was the day after you took your test. Soap had made plans with you to meet at a coffee shop that day, pass or fail. You had scored a 93% and couldn't wait to tell him. Walking through the shop door, you were met with the sight of Soap sitting at a table in the corner. He flashed you a smile, quickly looking you up and down, then to the counter in an attempt to hide it. Why did you have to be so pretty if he couldn't have you?

You walked to the table, sitting in front of him with the test in your hand. He sips his black coffee, and gestures to the paper.

"What'd ye get?" he asks, slightly impatient, "Ye have to h've gotten a pass"

You smile at him and slide him the test, "I did"

He looks at it and breaks out into a wide grin, "And ye thought ye couldn't do it. Guess a hooker isn't such a bad tutor, huh, bonnie?"

You blush and shake your head slightly, "Your military experience is what's making you"

He barks out a laugh, raising his hands in fake surrender, "Never said it wasnae"

Fifteen more minutes pass in friendly banter, simply enjoying your time together. You weren't blind, he was nice to look at. But that's just objective attraction, right? And of course it didn't help he was smart. And funny. But it wasn't a crime to find him attractive, even if you couldn't have him. He'd only want sex, right? There's a very small chance he'd want you outside of the bedroom.

Walking out the door, him by your side, he offers to walk you back to the university. It was getting dark earlier, so it was for your safety, as he would say. Nothing more, right? The walk back was quiet, yet comfortable. Conversation wasn't forced. Stopping in front of the building, you place your hand on his forearm.

"I really appreciate your help. Without you, I would've probably failed and would have had to spend the rest of the semester make the grade up" you smile lightly.

His eyes glance down at your hand, and he smiles, "It's nae issue really, good for the ole noggin' to keep the wheels turnin"

You chuckle, "I think I'll be okay now, as sad as it is that we won't study together anymore", You smile sadly. You remove your hand from his forearm and bring it down to your side.

His eyes follow your hand, and he looks back up to your eyes, "Y'know, we don't have teh hang out strictly for studying", he says, gently grabbing your hand.

Your heart speeds up, palms warming up, "what would uh, we do?", you ask softly.

"I could take ye to the movies, or a museum if you'd like? Like a-"

"Date?", you ask hopefully, heart pounding.

"Yes", he says with certainty.

You break out a smile, "I'd like that", you almost whisper.

It's quiet for a moment when you whisper, "I should head inside, gotta get sleep for class tomorrow"

He nods and lifts your hand to his mouth, "I'll text you", he says softly and then kisses it.

Butterflies rip through your stomach before you force yourself to walk away. He waits outside until you close the building door, then walks home, the warmth of your hand burning into his memory.

It isn't until you're in your bed, your fingers rubbing soft circles on your clit, with the still fresh memory of the way his lips felt on your skin, that he texts you.

Art museum on Saturday?

You smile as you text back

I'd like that

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

You break down into tears and tell them: "It’s been so long since I’ve felt this happy, I think I just got overwhelmed. You make me happy.” 

Heartslabyul dorm; Savanaclaw dorm; Octavinelle dorm; Scarabia dorm; Pomefiore Dorm; Ignihyde Dorm (here); Diasomnia Dorm

Idia Shroud – It had been ages since the two of you had a game night! Even if you were a bit of a noob, not having near as much time to play as he did, he still enjoyed going back over the story with you, getting to experience cutscenes again with a whole new perspective.

When he sees the tears in your eyes, he initially thinks it’s from the cutscene, but it wasn’t that sad? But the explanation completely KO’s him. His eyes go wide, hands shaking, and he sputters but he knows you. You don’t say things you don’t mean, even if you think it’ll hurt. You never have.  

The game idles between the two of you as he leans in, his tears joining yours in a tight hug. He’s hair flickers warmly in your hands and despite it all, it’s cozy.  

“You too!” he blurts out. “You-the fuck did I do to unluck this route- you make me happy too! So, keep up with me, and we can both be happy, ok?!”  

Ortho Shroud – Ironically, as much as Ortho loved video games and VR games, he actually preferred boardgames. There was something real and solid about them that just changed the way it felt in his hands, and there were so many different kinds! 2 player, 4 players, 10 players! He wanted to have enough friends to play all of them of course.  

The vintage gaming shop you two had found off a side alley would have had Idia scampering the two of you back claiming it to be sketchy and unsafe, and without Ortho maybe you would have left it too. But it’s awfully hard to feel nervous when you have the firepower of a Shroud beside you.  

Though you wouldn’t guess it, with the way he zoomed around the shop and exclaimed at all the old boxes and displays.  

When he looks back at you, he immediately thinks somebody tried something. As you explain though, he almost wishes he could feel it as intensely as you. He smiles boyishly, holding you tight, and he fights the impulse. He can’t just collect you and carry you to STYX to live out the rest of your days and be happy forever. Idia already told him he can’t do that, something about it being illegal. Unethical?  

“That’s two people I make happy,” he remarks, nuzzling his forehead against yours, “I think I leveled up! You'll stick around to see the best of it all, won’t you?”  

[covenofagatha]

holy fuck Another Kind of Workout is so hot i spontaneously combusted in the middle of my lecture. i genuinely forgot about that brainworm so now it's hitting me with full force all over again.... god

as a reward for that (holy shit holy shit) and your other recent posts (you've been hard at work dear please rest I'm a little concerned at how fast you write sometimes), in line with what you've replied to me, here's a brainworm inspired by my chat with my art friend:

dom!mommy!reader and sub!desperate!g!p agatha, ft. nudism, exhibitionism, praise, dryhumping, kind of dumbification, defiling of a paintbrush i guess, rio mention i miss my wife tails

teasing agatha at a nude art class. you hold lessons there, and this time you're holding one with a nude subject - you.

you edged her twice this morning before rushing her off to your art class, and she'd followed behind, all desperate and needy.

you don't tell her, and she realises only when you start stripping that she and many others are meant to sketch your naked body. at least you're keeping your panties on. she's flaring with jealousy and possessiveness, not liking how the other students ogle you, not realizing that most of them are too busy getting irritated at the way you keep fidgeting just to tease her.

its when she trails her eyes down that her cock grows embarrassingly hard, because your body is littered with marks. hickey after hickey across your tits, your neck, soft scars from where she'd scratched your neck with her nails while you rode her, and it's like she's reliving every single experience. you can see it in her eyes, in the way she shuffles to put the palette over the throbbing bulge in her pants.

you strike poses - everyone else heeding you no mind, but agatha knows. agatha knows the positions you're taking *very* well. getting more and more desperate with every one, she squeezes her eyes shut, but you laying on your back, back arched, is exactly the image that comes up in her mind. except it's on your shared bed, and she's pounding you relentlessly, while you praise how she fills you up, how she's "such a good girl for mommy", and she's almost certain now that her boxers are ruined.

she curses under her breath when she accidentally rolls her hips against the stool and the tip of her cock brushes against the material. fuck, it feels good. it's not enough, but with how hooded your gaze is, and the ghost of your words from last night echoing in her ears, she's almost already on the edge. you tease her a little more with each pose, eyes always fixed on her, and with the final pose you part your legs in her direction, and she alone sees the way your underwear is positively drenched. it's not her fault, truly, and she strains her clothed bulge against the stool, willing it for just a little more friction.

you watch her carefully. she's blocked by the large canvas for the most part, but if you turn the right angle you can see her palm her dick desperately through her jeans, her eyes practically fucking you already. you motion with your head to her easel carrying a definitely blank canvas, urging her to pick up her brush, and raise an eyebrow when she shakes her head furiously.

your eyes narrow in warning at her, and its perfect timing when your alarm rings to signal that class is over. you hum goodbyes to your friends-slash-students, them sending knowing looks in agatha's direction. you move wordlessly over to her, tutting disapprovingly at her flushed face and blank canvas. she whines softly at your proximity, and you press a chaste kiss at her neck that she shivers at.

slotting yourself behind her, you lean over her, your pebbles tits brushing into her back and she squirms again. "i thought you were gonna be good for me, baby," you huff gently, the puff of breath making her eyes flit down at the wet spot that's seen through her pants. "couldn't draw anything, darling? couldn't even cum on your own, could you? my dumb little girl. need mommy to help you for everything, don't you?" you say, reaching over to pick her paintbrush from between her trembling fingers, from the hands that are gripping the front of the stool so tightly her knuckles have gone white.

the proximity drives her insane, and she whimpers out loud when you cup her cock, sliding the paintbrush horizontally under it. it forms a little T, and you have to slap a hand over her mouth so the last few people filing out don't hear. the cool touch of the plastic drives her insane, and with your soft coos of "so desperate, baby, let mommy empty the pretty thoughts from your head," and "just move, sweeteheart, feel it roll under your wet cock, you're doing so well for mommy, yeah?"

the thrill lies of course in the fact that to anyone who's looking from the entrance, it looks like you're just guiding her in her brush strokes. but the moment they step to the side, they'd see agatha frantically rocking her hips against the wooden paintbrush, your hands snaking up her sides as you take a dip into yourself and spread your sticky wetness across her body, her head bent as muffled moans and whines of "mommy" erupt from her mouth.

a familiar voice calls you, and you look up, nipping at her neck gently in apology, before patting her shoulder and dusting yourself off. you tell her to keep going, her eyes widening because if rio vidal sees her in this state, she'll never live it down. but at the end of the day, she's your dumb, obedient girl, and she obliges.

rio shows you her sketches of you, and you sing her praises just to rile agatha up even more. the turning point is when, in the midst of clearing up after looking at Rio's work, you bend over, and agatha gets a first hand view of your dripping cunt.

Rio's only taken a few steps away from you when she hears a loud keen, then a loud, wet splat of agatha finally painting her canvas. she snorts in amusement, and you wink at her before turning back to deal with your silly doll, who was most definitely not supposed to cum without your permission. she looks at you with the glassiest eyes, and you know you're in for a treat.

i hope you enjoyed this lol it's filled my mind all day, and now i will go home and stuff a finger or two in me when i re read the workout fic again. god i love your mind and your writing so much. it's been very nice chatting with you (and i will continue as long as you let me) but I'm always happy to return to my roots as a perpetual horndog. as always though, please don't feel obliged to write this as a request and do take care 💜

-lots of love, worm anon

I am SO glad you liked because god I haven't been able to stop thinking about that brainworm since you sent it

Sometimes the mania just hits and my brain is like writewritewrite but eventually it chills out and I take a few days off but I am taking care of myself thank you for the concern 💜

I VERY much enjoyed this (and I really do need to work on more agathario x reader there's just too much in my mind but I will get to them I promise) I am OBSESSED with Agatha cumming on the canvas and now I'm thinking about her turning that in with her stains/smell still on it and then reader getting all desperate and touching herself because they are both perverts and I stand by that

I LOVE your mind too and I also really enjoy chatting with you and I hope you have a great rest of the day/night (timezones are hard)

[thedemonofcat]

I’ve seen soulmate fics where being rejected by your soulmate makes you very sick.

And that is really unfair. I think the reverse should be true.

Geralt gets sicker and sicker after the mountain. Only his soulmate returning to him will cure him. Geralt doesn’t want to be controlled by destiny, so he stubbornly refuses to find them.

Eskel or someone begs Jaskier to save Geralt. Even though he’s hurt, the bard makes the journey to Kaer Morhen.

He finds Geralt barely breathing. He leans down and kisses the Witcher’s forehead, whispering that he forgave him.

Once he sees that Geralt is breathing easier, Jaskier leaves before the witcher can wake up.

After all, Geralt would surely send him away again. It would be rather silly for them to go through all of this trouble only to have to immediately repeat the experience.

"Jaskier!" Geralt shouted through the trees. The wind was picking up, a storm looming on the horizon. "Jaskier, where are you?" he called again, his voice rough with frustration and worry.

Jaskier—his beautiful, infuriating, perfect soulmate—was out here somewhere, lost in the mountains and forests surrounding Kaer Morhen. And all because Geralt had been too much of a fool to say something sooner.

After what felt like hours of yelling, a faint voice finally reached him.

"Over here, Geralt."

The bard’s voice was smaller than usual, almost meek. Geralt followed the sound and found him sitting against a tree, clutching his ankle. Even in the dim light, he could see the swelling.

"The snow covered the root—I didn't see it," Jaskier murmured, wincing. "I think my leg is broken."

"Let me see," Geralt said, kneeling. Jaskier hesitated before finally letting him touch his leg.

"Good news," Geralt said after a moment, his tone lighter. "It’s not broken. Just a bad sprain. There are plenty of beds at Kaer Morhen where you can rest." He reached to lift Jaskier, only for the bard to shove him away.

"I'm not going back," Jaskier snapped.

"You’ll freeze to death out here," Geralt argued.

"Better than having my heart broken over and over again when you get bored of me," Jaskier shot back, his voice shaking.

Geralt froze. Then, softer this time, he said, "I love you. I'm not going to break your heart." A pause. "Not ever again."

Jaskier turned away. "You love the idea of having a soulmate," he whispered. "You don’t even know me."

What he didn’t see was Geralt moving his fingers.

"Sleep," Geralt murmured, using Axii to lull him into unconsciousness.

As Jaskier’s body went slack, Geralt scooped him up with a sigh, holding him close against the cold.

"I’ll love you," he murmured, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s temple. "Or any version of you. As long as you’re not frozen."

[kiwriteswords]

Hiii sorry if this is too late for missing scenes Monday (or maybe this can be Thirsty Thursday!) but I'm thinking of post-Reaper attack between 5x01 - 5x02, Hotch having a secret fuck buddy/friend with benefits to work out his frustrations 👀

Because that's what I want to be for him lol

The Aftermath [Aaron Hotchner x Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: >>>1k|| AN: Not too late! My apologies for it being so short! Thank you for sending in and being a part of my 2k celebration! <3 *note, I think I will not be tagging my usual taglist in these, as I do not want everyone to have their notifications blown up by my short drabbles and/or excessive posting for this event!*

Tags/Warnings: female reader, canon typical themes, canon typical injuries, spoilers-ish to 5.01/5.02, hurt!hotch, sexual themes, friends-with-benefits, fade to black smut, sexual tension, caregiver!reader, BAU!Reader, mdni

Summary: Hotch thinks the benefits part of your 'friends with benefits' situation may really help the way he's feeling when recovering from being attacked by The Reaper.

Your heels clicked softly against the hardwood floor of Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, the sound muffled by the pervasive silence that seemed to hang heavily in the air. The door had been left unlocked, just as he’d texted you it would be, a small act of trust that you didn’t take lightly, especially now.

As you entered, you paused for a moment, struck by his appearance. Hotch was sitting on the couch, his posture unusually rigid against the softness of the cushions. His face was drawn, the remnants of pain evident in the tight set of his jaw and the way his eyes briefly closed when he adjusted his position. The bandages peeking out from under his shirt near his neck served as a jarring reminder of the attack that had nearly taken his life.

You took in the surroundings of his apartment. On the coffee table sat a prescription, which looked unopened, and a cup of coffee--likely the only thing he had eaten or drank in the last 48 hours since being home. 

“Hotch,” you said softly, keeping your voice gentle, not wanting to startle him.

He opened his eyes, and a flicker of relief passed through them as he saw you. “You came.”

“I said I would.” You set down the bag of groceries you’d brought with you in the kitchen, making a mental note to fill his fridge with something more substantial than takeout containers and old coffee. 

Over the months, your relationship had evolved into a convenient arrangement of late-night visits and quiet departures--no promises made, no strings attached. But today was different. You felt different seeing him. Your eyes caught the cut out spot on the carpet, a mental reminder that you almost didn’t see him again. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I was stabbed in the chest,” he replied dryly, a hint of his usual stoicism laced with dark humor. You knew this was his way of coping, of grounding himself back to reality.

Walking over to him, you took a seat on the other end of the couch, giving him space yet staying close enough to share warmth. “I can imagine that doesn’t feel great.”

He watched you, his gaze intense and searching. His voice was rough, and he said, "I...I could use a different kind of distraction, though."

The atmosphere thickened, laden with unspoken yet palpable tension. This was always the dance you two did so well--words veiling more profoundly, unsaid things. It worked this way--it did. You weren’t itching to label things, but the way your heart quicked seeing him so…so raw. So vulnerable.

Since the attack, since Foyet, everything felt more intense, more serious. Your relationship, hidden under the guise of late-night visits and stolen moments at work, now bore the weight of his near-death experience.

“Hotch, you need to rest,” you said, reaching out tentatively to adjust a cushion behind him, your hand brushing against his arm. The contact sent a familiar jolt through you, but you focused on his comfort rather than the building tension.

“I am resting,” he insisted, though the edge in his voice told you it was the last thing he felt. Trapped in his apartment, in his body that hadn’t fully healed, in his mind that never stopped--rest was a foreign concept to him. "I could use some company...maybe a bit more, if you’re up for it."

You paused, your heart skipping a beat. "Aaron, I don't think that’s a good idea," you said gently, worried about his physical condition. You looked down to the gauze peeking out from the hem of his shirt. The bandaged spon on his arm from where the IV was. The bruising on his cheek. 

"I need this," he pressed, his expression earnest. He waved a hand toward his bandaged torso with a grimace, an awkward reminder of his vulnerability. "I need to feel something other than this, even if it's just for a moment."

You swallowed hard, your resolve wavering. This was uncharted territory. The casual ease of our previous encounters hadn't prepared us for the raw edges of such real need. "I’m afraid of hurting you," you confessed, feeling the weight of his gaze intensify.

"I'm not made of glass," he countered softly, a hint of his usual firmness returning. "And I trust you. You’ve always known where to draw the line, haven't you?"

The weight of his trust in you, in your understanding of his limits, made your decision for you. Slowly, you moved closer, still cautious but now with a new purpose. "Okay, but at any sign that it's too much--"

He reached out, his hand finding yours, his touch gentle yet certain. "I'll let you know," he promised, his thumb brushing against your skin soothingly.

"Let's take it slow," you suggested, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his forehead, a gesture of care mingled with the promise of more.

"Slow is perfect," he agreed, his other hand coming up to cradle your face, bringing you closer for a gentle, probing kiss that spoke of gratitude and need.

The kiss deepened gradually, more about connection than passion, yet it stirred a familiar heat within you both. Hotch remained careful, mindful of his injuries, but his kisses grew more insistent, fueled by a mixture of frustration and desire. Each touch was a whisper against your skin, a silent conversation between comfort and desire, pulling you deeper into the complexity of our connection.

As you responded, matching his intensity, the world outside his recovery, the pain, and the medications momentarily faded. Here, in this quiet space filled only with the sound of shared breaths, you pulled back slightly, checking his expression for any sign of discomfort. "Are you okay?" you asked, breathless.

"More than okay," he assured you, his eyes bright for the first time since the attack. "I need this...I need you. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for that," you whispered, settling beside him. Here, with Hotch, you were both finding a way to mend, a path forward that allowed him to heal not just in body but in his spirit.

[utilitycaster]

I love the current discourse because a "woman with a crippling traumatic pasts, gets help of her party to heal from it and spends the rest of her life living a simple quiet life with her lesbian partner" is not the problem, and it has been done before in CR, it's Yasha

If you think about it, Laudna and Yasha's characters mirror each other in more ways than just a monochromatic palette, but one wound up being more interesting and earned her epilogue better and it's not the one that was present for all 100+ episodes of her respective campaign

Yeah; this has come up a TON but like. I have watched/listened to all or part of the following actual play series:

Critical Role (almost everything barring a few one shots, mostly from C1-era)

TAZ (afaik everything except a couple of the most recent episodes)

NADDPod (everything)

RQG (only main campaign and main-campaign canon sidequests, not one-shots, but I listened to all of that)

Relics and Rarities (all)

D20 (most)

Desiquest (first 2 episodes)

Into the Motherlands (first 2 seasons)

Burnt Cookbook Party (haven't listened the last few months for life reasons but intend to catch up, was otherwise caught up)

WBN (first 3 arcs, intend to catch up)

I also am a regular listener to NADDPod and Critical Role's talkback shows. I've been a regular DM since 2020 and had DM-ed one shots prior; I've been playing D&D and occasional other TTRPGs since 2016. I've read a number of articles on the topics of actual play as a form and TTRPGs and discuss it with friends. I'm saying all of this to make it clear: people can tell themselves that I'm stupid and uninformed and don't know what I'm talking about, and I think we all know they're just mad I disagree with them and am a better and more convincing writer to boot, and they're entitled losers who want me to write posts that make them feel good solely through what I'd call bullying but really it's more like if someone tried to shove me in a locker and accidentally gave themselves a concussion running headfirst into a locker, and I filmed it.

ANYWAY getting to the point yeah Yasha tells a story that hits the same core beats while also being a superior character on every level. She also had a difficult and abusive childhood (starting from a younger age) and experienced great loss and injustice, and also committed great harm. In her grief she was taken advantage of by sinister forces that sought to use and control her, and while she was able to escape with assistance, the bindings followed her. She continued to experience loss, and despite fighting back succumbed to her past controllers until her friends - not some stranger, but the people she'd met, coupled with her own abilities - broke her free, and she was able to meaningfully and rewardingly end her servitude. She messily worked through her feelings and in the process found love, and, having been forced to be a weapon and killer, made a choice to set that aside and find her own identity.

Any claim that Laudna's story manages to touch in a meaningful way on the same notes, when she never takes charge of her own destiny and simply drifts and flops about through various paths of least resistance until settling back in a rut, is a desperate and sad lie told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

I say this as someone who thinks that Critical Role campaign 2 is the best longform campaign of D&D I've seen, and that Candela Obscura Circle of Needle and Thread, Moonward, and EXU Calamity are all some of the best shortform campaigns of actual play: there is nothing I can think of that Campaign 3 does, across the board, that something else in actual play (ie, in this improvised format) doesn't do in a far superior fashion. That's really it. It's mediocre at best. None of these were the casts' strongest character nor relationship and it's certainly Matt's weakest plotting. If you liked it, that's great, but yeah there's nothing special about it.

[mgu-h]

What are your top 3 moments of Max and Lando from 2024? A little late, but I’m quite curious lol

Or in general, what are your favorite moments of them of all time?

my chronological study is not yet caught up, so i can't really do 2024 justice, but i've covered a lot of ground from 2013 to early 2023, and there's just so many things that stand out!!! not just moments but like.. idk. whole parts of their lives. i'll check some dates {edit: and add 20 gifs and a video}, but otherwise, off the dome, my favorite moments lmao let's do this:

max's story about seeing lando driving his kart at 9yrs old, the small details about the location and lando's helmet that he remembered, the fondness in his tone of voice as he talked about it, and calling himself a day one fanboy of lando

there's this old old post on max's insta where he's just starting out, with lando commenting on it in a supportive or teasing way... just seeing how long they've been friends, all the footage of them karting, sharing podiums, and goofing off in tiny race suits together, it's not one moment that i love but the pool of shared experiences and competition

jumping forward in time a bit, that time max said that lando had taken care of him after he stopped racing and wasn't sure what to do, it's just important to me that max showed up just playing on lando's twitch first. lando opened up this whole path for him, ultimately hiring him, shaping the trajectory of the rest of his life

there's some deeply notable streaming early on in lando's house, a favorite being the absurd bathrobe tech support, with lando fresh out of the shower and all up in max's personal space. and then idk it's a small detail but there's times where max and lando are wearing the same glasses and i love that

i can't pick a favorite of the quadrant videos filmed in summer and fall 2021, there's so many deeply endearing and iconic moments, like the hot sauce video, the lie detector (big reaction), the pink 'how well do you know' video (max's absurdly fond tone of voice saying "useless" is my first memory of him, from years ago), the outtakes of the part of the elgato video where they kick niran out of their house

there's connor's august twitch stream from holiday with them all tipsy and topless and deeply tanned on a boat. lando hovering around max's back, making max smell his underarm when he complained. it reminds me of pics i saw of lando shirtless in a paddling pool which i assume were taken by max.

the way they were wearing each other's golf shirts on the course in that one fall golf stream, i think it was shortly after sochi. the whole recurring bit with them sharing a wardrobe, the "whose shoes are those?" "whose joggers are those? "whose hoodie is that?" bit, the fact that it kept going even after they moved apart

those key december 2021 streams, the loooong halo stream where chat called max both lando's dog and his wag. just the wild argument they had about max moving to monaco, with max saying lando'd get lonely, offering to be a house husband almost, and 'joking around' like 'he doesn't want me, we're done, etc..

then the sweet sad energy of the last stream in the house, where lando picks a fight about who's better at golf and uses his keyboard clicking to annoy max. for some reason i love this fight the most out of everything, i've listened to it dozens of times probably, i even transcribed it to see what the sentence length looked like before i started writing rpf. it's just like the perfect quintessence of their dynamic.

max showing up on the mclaren tiktok account in lando's hotel room in dubai the next month jan 2022, having gone on the trip with lando and his gf

quadrant leaving a small cardboard cutout of max in lando's office, after lando was a pest while max tried to plan the office remodel surprise for him. then lando using it to tease max, and lying about throwing it out, keeping it around, and still having it in 2025

the infamous and perfect moment in july where max covered up lando's head after the rally car passed by because lando fully didn't do it himself and max either saw that or knew that he wouldn't do it and that he needed to do it for him

lando being a dj on max's twitch, the sleepover vibes, the way they support him in his new hobby and validate him

max's 2022 singapore trip and the incredible tikok where lando answers the hotel door wearing the exact same clothes as max but in inverted colors, where he slaps max very hard on what looked like the inner thigh, where max bites his knuckle with nerves and is proud of lando's p4

[i've got the winter and spring content to go through in detail, i don't really know what happened here]

the march 2023 max twitch stream with lando in the blue hoodie (kitten, max smelling his underarm, lando losing his mind about a memory of max when he was drunk). i'm pretty sure in that stream, max's dad comes in and asks if lando is staying the night, in a way that communicates he's done it a hundred times before and is welcome to do it a hundred more

the april 2023 twitch streams where lando wanders around, laying with bare feet kicked up on the bed, massaging his back (each others' backs, max returns the favor), lint rolling himself. around this time P says on stream that max is lando's boyfriend, she also calls him his slave and labels what they share as an addiction(!!!)

i know they go to motogp together in the summer of this year, i remember the adorable almost kinda matching outfits. there's also that footage of max looking at lando asleep in that egg pod thing from around then too

[i don't really know yet if/what nortrell happened in late 2023]

then like, 2024, i have so much to catch up on, but i was aware of him by the end of the season. obviously the infamous post disaster races had that gentle parenting from max about eating and sleep while playing tarkov, which was lovely, and then the way max defended him at crucial parts of the season and like asked 'where's the backing' and got angry on his behalf was good too.

2025...... so much so far. the "you said my name so I know you're lying." the "stop fucking kissing her max and hurry the fuck up." connor's "his brother and his boyfriend" comment. the fact that i got jumpscared by max streaming from lando's office again. the pushups. watching the super bowl. just so much.

that was more than i expected to remember lmao anyway, nortrell rights

[corruptedcaps]

Out of Office

Dr. Morgan stood at the threshold of his lab, his pulse quickening as he stared at his phone. He had just returned from a week-long vacation in the remote mountains, completely cut off from civilization. It was supposed to be a simple break from his intense work of studying alien biological samples recovered from a meteorite impact site.

His assistant, Claire, had assured him that everything would be fine in his absence. But as he listened to her voicemails, a growing dread gripped him. Something had gone wrong.

At first, her messages were normal but they got increasingly... odd. He had listened to them in the car on the way to the lab and with each subsuquent message he sped up faster.

VOICEMAIL 1 Monday, 8:32 AM

"Hey, Doctor! It’s Claire. Just wanted to check in and let you know everything’s good here. The samples are stable, no unexpected changes. I’ll keep logging their activity and make sure nothing gets near the containment units. No need to worry. Enjoy your time off! You deserve the break."

VOICEMAIL 2 Wednesday, 10:17 AM

"Hi, Doctor. So… small update. One of the samples, Sample B, showed a bit of activity. It pulsed for a second, almost like it was… alive. Weird, right? Anyway, it’s back to normal now. Probably some environmental fluctuation. I’ll keep monitoring it, just to be safe."

VOICEMAIL 3 Thursday, 11:43 PM

"Doctor… something’s happening. Sample D started moving on its own. And B, it’s… growing. It’s not contained to its chamber anymore. I tried to secure it, but it, it touched me. I feel… strange. My skin’s warm, almost buzzing. I don’t know what it’s doing to me. I need you to call me as soon as you get this."

VOICEMAIL 4 Friday, 2:27 PM

"Hey, Doctor. You know what? I was totally overreacting. I think… I was afraid of something I didn’t understand. But now, I see it. The samples… they’re not hostile. They’re… welcoming. When Sample B made contact with me, it didn’t hurt. It felt incredible. Like it was… part of me. I feel connected to something bigger, something extraordinary. You should experience it too."

VOICEMAIL 5 Saturday, 8:19 PM

"Doctor… The samples, they’ve helped me so much. My skin is softer, my body… enhanced in ways I can’t describe. I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself… but I love it. My lips are fuller, my boobs are big and perfect. I feel… powerful, seductive, radiant. Every inch of me hums with energy. The samples made me better. That’s why I’m going to release the rest of them. I can feel their eagerness to touch me."

VOICEMAIL 6 Sunday, 6:00 AM

"Evan… come to the lab. They’re waiting for you. I’m waiting for you. We’ll be whole, together. I’ve missed you… so much."

-

Evan’s breath quickened as the last message ended as he stood in front of his lab door. He hesitated. Something was clearly wrong with Claire and the samples but maybe he could help her. He threw open the door and rushed toward the lab. But just as he stepped into the hall, he skidded to a stop.

Claire stood there, waiting for him.

Her once-pristine lab coat had now morphed into a tight and shiny black dress that barely clung to her body. Speaking of her body, it was now the most perfect female form Evan had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her breasts envious and her curves made Evan feel weak. Her eyes were now black pools of liquid light, swirling with alien energy. She smiled, her lips impossibly perfect, her voice honey-sweet yet filled with something darker.

"We’ve missed you, Doctor." She said softly, stepping closer.

Before he could react, she reached out and pressed her hand against his chest. The black goo slithered off her fingertips and onto his shirt, spreading like liquid fire across his skin. Evan stumbled back, gasping as the substance soaked through his clothes, cold and burning all at once.

He tried to scream, but the goo surged upward, a wave of darkness pouring into his mouth and down his throat, silencing him. He thrashed, struggling to resist, but the alien substance had a mind of its own. It moved inside him, rewriting him. His muscles bulged, growing stronger, leaner. His skin tightened, taking on a flawless sheen. His features sharpened, transforming him into a figure of striking beauty and power.

Claire watched with a wicked smile as he convulsed, his body remade in the image of something far beyond human.

Evan fought against the alien organisms infecting his body and mind. He couldn’t give in.

“No! This is wrong. We have to fight it Claire!” He said trying to plead with her humanity but she wasn’t human anymore.

“Shh…” She whispered. “Don’t fight it. You’re becoming what we need you to be. What I need you to be. We have been chosen for a great purpose Evan, we will birth a new race to conquer this worthless planet. You and I are will be the first. I will be the queen and if you give in, you shall be the king.”

Evan tried to fight the pleasure now coursing through his body. He felt strong, powerful, alive. The alien organism showed him images of a world that he controlled, of an army that bowed before him. It was an intoxicating sight but what tipped him over the edge were the images of Claire, his wicked queen, moaning in carnal pleasure as he fucked her with a new more massive cock.

Evan’s body stopped trembling. His breath steadied, his eyes snapping open, jet black, swirling like Claire’s. His lips curled into a slow, hungry smile as he looked at her, desire and power coursing through him.

“Yessss…” He hissed, his voice thick with newfound strength. “Give in… I want to give in!”

The black goo solidified, wrapping around his body like armor, transforming his vacation wear into a sleek, obsidian suit that clung to him as tightly as Claire’s did to her. His hands flexed, marveling at the raw power that surged through him. He stepped toward Claire, his eyes burning with lust and purpose.

“My queen.” He said, his voice like velvet. “There’s much work to do.”

Claire’s eyes gleamed with delight. She traced her finger down his chest, her touch electric.

“So much glorious work, my king.” She whispered. “And we’ll make this world kneel before us.”

"This world is merely an appetiser. Once it is under our heel our destiny awaits out in the stars." He said with a dark and triumphant laugh that Claire soon joined in on. Their reign was about to being.

[emwallas176]

Episode 4x09 of Smallville was genuinely so confusing. Not only was the cold open so traumatizing but then the moral gymnastics that happens for the rest of the episode (and onward) is so confounding.

So the whole premise of the episode is that Lex sleeps around so much that he can’t even remember the names and faces of the women he sleeps with. Strange and concerning on multiple levels. Even if this was completely in character (which I don’t think it is), it is still highly concerning to forget the names and faces of people you’ve been intimate with. I think they said 13 women in the last year. While that’s not a low number, I don’t think it’s high enough to cause such forgetfulness. Therefore it almost seems to imply that there’s a level of disassociation that happens on Lex’s part during the experience (you can’t form new memories if you weren’t really paying attention when they happened). This theory is also backed up by the fact that Lex admits at the end of the episode that he has suicidal thoughts, and (very) unattached sex could be a negative coping mechanism for these dark emotions. As we can see at the start of the episode, Lex looks sad and completely alone at the event. And immediately after that he jumps into bed with someone. There’s clearly a connection there (at least in my mind).

All of the above, however, is not what confuses me. It’s the other characters that I don’t understand. First you have Clark who comes in (as seems to be becoming his pattern) guns blazing and accusatory. Of course this might be warranted seeing as Lex has been quite soundly framed for murder but I digress. During their talk and with what he finds out later, Clark gets very up in arms about Lex having sex with a lot of women. Despite whether this is right or wrong of him to do, it makes absolutely no sense for why it would drive Clark into LIONEL’S arms. Especially bc Lionel admits later on that Lex learned the behavior (sleeping with women and leaving them with a pair of diamond earrings) from Lionel himself?? Like it’s bad and dishonest if Lex does it but apparently makes Lionel trustworthy?? I’m confused. Also! Let’s not forget the fact that Lionel slept with another woman while his wife was DYING! But sure, Lex is the sexually deviant one. Sure.

Also, I feel like there is a lot of disconnect between how Lex and Alicia (in later episodes) are treated. Like Lex sleeps with women (consensually) and almost gets killed by one of them and Clark tells him that he doesn’t know if he can trust him anymore. Alicia forces Clark to marry her and almost forces him to have sex with her (read: non-consensual!) and the next episode she and Clark are dating again. Also, Lex gets framed for murder and when he’s found innocent, Clark rescues him, yes, but at the end of the day he still doesn’t trust Lex. Alicia gets framed for murder and is found innocent (and dies, unfortunately (seriously that was such a shocking death what the hell Smallville?!)) and Clark feels guilty and regretful and tells his parents he wishes he believed her sooner. Now I get that these two situations aren’t quite the same but the different reactions that Clark and the other characters have feel more like the writers playing into future roles (Lex is the villain, yada, yada) rather than actually looking at the characters as they are now.

I think I would have enjoyed the episode more if I’d understood what it was trying to say. Are you trying to say that Lex is “showing a different, darker side of himself” by not caring about the women he sleeps with? Okay then why is it okay for Lionel to do. Are you trying to say that sex in general is bad? Then why have Alicia be forgiven? Why have Lana trying to loose her virginity to Jason? In the end, the episode just left me feeling really frustrated bc I felt like there was something I was supposed to get but I just didn’t get it.