#virus: 32 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wickwoods · 30 days ago

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𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜-

Virgin!Sex worker!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Married!Older!Reader-

I found the divider on Pinterest! Creds to original poster <3

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: After your husband bailed out on your anniversary, you finally take your best friend’s crazy idea of getting laid by a new man into consideration.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Reader cheats on husband, Virgin!Eddie, Sub!Eddie, Soft!Dom!Reader, First time meeting, Unprotected sex, Eddie cums inside of reader, Reader has boobs and Pussy, ANGST towards the end with NO HAPPY ENDING…These are the main warnings i’m not sure if I missed any…Please let me know! Happy reading! <3

Your heels clacked against the pavement as you made your way to the hotel you were supposed to meet ‘Kas’ at. ‘What a stupid name.’ You thought to yourself. ‘This is so stupid, what the fuck was I thinking?’ The thoughts kept coming at you full speed.

You were on your way to meet up with a random guy for sex. At a hidden hotel. While your husband (soon to be ex-husband) was at work. ‘The guy had it coming….whatever.’ You thought to yourself. The relationship was at its wits end anyway. You directed your gaze to the sky above you and thought back to the moment that led you to do this.

…………

“Adam, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for almost two fucking hours. Pick up the damn phone.”

This is ridiculous. It was your fifth anniversary. You’d been waiting at home all dolled up, and for what? He didn’t deserve it. You’d even put on your pretty matching sage green set just for him. You heaved out a long aggressive sigh and started making your way up the stairs of your home. You opened the door to your shared bedroom and changed out of the uncomfortable elegant clothes into your favorite pajamas. You grabbed your phone from the purse you had packed up to take with you and flung yourself on the king sized bed. You opened up your phone and started scrolling through your notifications. You clicked open on the messages that came from your best friend.

Len🐞: BABYGIRL LOOK AT THIS (link)

Len🐞: go get dicked down by a new man babes, Adam is so not gonna do it for you 🙄

You let out a small chuckle at your best friend’s words and started typing..

Me: Jeez, hello to you too bitch 🙄

Me: What is the link? You trying to give me a virus?

Len🐞: press on it and check it out…I’m sick and tired of hearing you complain about Adam’s 🦐 you deserve a good one💋

Me: Then give me yours 🥴🥴

Len🐞: ha ha bitch, go check it out

Me: Fine!!!

You shook your head at your best friend’s antics and finally pressed on the link. The link sent you to a website page and you were immediately bombarded with red colors and a ton of men’s faces. There was a large heading at the top of the page that read “Looking for a quick fuck for cheap? Book one of our sexy workers now!” in big bold letters. ‘What the hell did this girl send me?’ You started scrolling through the page and stopped when you saw a singular face. He was so handsome. He had deep, brown eyes that stared into the camera as if he was physically there, looking straight at you. He had a big smile on his face and curly brown ringlets of hair framing it. He sported a black crew neck shirt that gave a peek of his pale neck covered in black ink on the left side. You scrolled a bit further and saw a small description below the picture. It read:

“Kas, 24, available Monday-Wednesday. Book now! (phone number)”

You ran your eyes over the number three times and exited the web to open the phone app. You quickly dialed the number and hovered your finger over the green call button. ‘What am i thinking? I’m a married 32 year old woman. I need to get it together!’ You quickly turned off your phone and turned over to your side. You shut your eyes and tried to forget about the sexy stranger only one call away. You turned from side to side at least five times before giving up and picking up your phone again. You quickly dialed the number again and pressed the green button before you lost your newfound courage.

…………

That night, you had booked ‘Kas’ for the following week on a Tuesday. Now, you were on your way to meet him. You made the final turn on the Maplewood street and finally stood in front of the hotel. You let out a sigh and pulled open the door. You walked up to the counter and gave your best smile to the lady behind the desk. Her name tag read: Daisy and you wondered if that was her real name, or a disguise one.

“Hi there, I booked an appointment with Kas last week.”

“Alright! The total amount for the time you booked is $80, will that be cash or card?”

No way were you gonna risk Adam seeing the charge through your shared bank account.

“Uh, Cash.”

You reached into the small purse you brought with you and pulled out the money. After the payment was finalized, Daisy handed you a key to room B23 and gave you directions.

“He’ll be there in just a couple of minutes, feel free to get yourself comfortable waiting for him! Have fun!” she said with an oddly joyous tone.

“Oh, thank you.” Your cheeks burned a cherry red as you made your way to the room.

You opened the door and walked in. It had a single queen sized bed in the middle and rolling cart right next to it. The cart had a bottle of cheep champagne and a single champagne glass next to it. There was also a small box of chocolates with a note that read: “Help yourself to any or all!” You poured yourself a bit of the champagne and drank it sip by sip. It definitely soothed your nerves a bit. You sat on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed and waited. About five minutes later, you heard a small knock. You looked up and finally saw him. Your heart skipped one or two beats. He was so pretty up close.

“Hey… I’m Kas.” He smiled and walked up to you.

You greeted him with your own name and stood up.

“Um…I have to be honest with you, I’m new to this. You’re my first customer.” He spoke with a soft tone as if he was scared you might change your mind and walk out on him.

“That’s okay.” you smiled. “I’ve never done something like this before.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Like-like you’re a…a virgin?”

Your own eyes widened a bit too and you giggled at his response. “God, no! I just mean that i’ve never had sex in a random hotel with a random man that I paid for.” There was a small tease in your words and his shoulders eased up before tensing up once again.

“I guess i should tell you that uh…I myself am a v-virgin.” His voice was so low you almost missed the last part of his sentence. “I understand if you’d like to change me with someone else, just uh give me the word and i’ll walk out and talk to Dai-“ He was cut off with your lips on his in a soft peck. You pulled away and reassured him,

“Calm down, I still want this.” You leaned in once again, slower this time to give him enough time to pull away, but he didn’t. He leaned in too and met your lips in the middle. You turned him around without letting his lips go and pushed him onto the plush mattress. You finally let go and gave him time to catch his breath.

“Tell me baby, how far have you gone?” He looked down between your bodies, avoiding your eyes, and said,

“I almost,most got a blow job once…”

You looked at him and smiled a bit. ‘Cute’ You thought to yourself.

“Alright. We’ll take it slow.”

He nodded before you leaned in and pressed your mouth against his neck this time. He let out small sighs of pleasure and you couldn’t help but smile against his neck.

“My lips feel good on your skin, baby?”

You pressed a kiss right on his tattoo that you realized was a skull with twenty sided dice as eyes and gave it a small lick. “Mhm..” He had his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of your soft kisses. You slid your hands down his chest and tugged on the hem. Feeling the small tugs, he raised his upper body and pulled his shirt off. You noticed small works of art scattered along his torso but quickly moved on to kissing his chest. You kissed around his collarbones a bit before abruptly stopping. He let out a noise that resembled a whine and opened his eyes to look at you.

“Hey, tell me if it ever gets to be too much alright?” He nodded his head and responded,

“Yes Angel” he smiled.

You raised an eyebrow in amusement and asked him, “What’s with the nickname?”

He continued smiling and answered, “You’re pretty like one.”

You smiled with your teeth and made a pathway down his chest and stomach with kisses. You got to his torso and ran a single finger along the hem of his black jeans. You took note of how his lower stomach twitched when you touched a certain spot and began to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He lifted his lower half from the bed and you pulled down his pants along with his briefs. You glued your eyes to his dick as you stuttered out,

“Oh, wow…” He started blushing profusely and looked down at you. His dick twitched as he took sight of you between his legs, but he ignored it.

“Is- is it bad? is it ugly? i’m sorry.” He felt like he wanted to cry or jump out the window. Maybe both. “No! no, not at all baby…jus’ bigger than i expected” You smiled up at him. “Oh..” You wrapped your hand around his length and let a drop of spit fall from your mouth onto his raging tip. “Such a pretty cock. It’s a shame no other person has seen it.” He let a small whimper drop from his lips and threw his head back before quickly picking it up again, not wanting to miss the moment.

“Thank you Angel…fuck..” He was aching so bad, his tip was a deep red. You maintained eye contact as you leaned down and slowly took his tip in between your lips. You suckled on it for a couple of seconds making him let out a rather loud moan. He couldn’t believe it. You were so fucking perfect. So pretty, so nice, so sexy- fuck. You stopped your motions all together and stood on your legs in front of him. You began to take your blouse off, and then your pants. You were left in your sexy sage green set. He felt like he could cum at that moment.

How were you so fucking perfect!?

You reached behind your back and undid the clasp of your bra then quickly spun around before the garment dropped. He let out a small groan of disapproval before quieting down the minute you grabbed each side of your lacy underwear. You let your bra fall off and felt the immediate hardening of your nipples in the cold air of the room. You then reach for your underwear and pull it down while bending over with the motion to reveal your glistening cunt to him. He felt his cock twitch and spoke, “Please..please Angel…I need you so bad. I feel like i’m gonna explode.” You made a tsking noise at him.

“Aht Aht, patience is key baby.” You smiled at him and walked up to him to straddle his lap. He could feel your leaking juices on his cock and he felt like the biggest horndog on earth. You leaned down and began giving him sloppy kisses on the mouth. You both let out matching loud moans as you began to do forward and backwards motions with your hips. He lest his arms wrap securely around your waist as you reached behind you and guided him into your wet hole inch by inch. He let go of your mouth to let out a loud groan as his hips bucked up in pleasure. He looked straight into your eyes and a strange feeling of reassurance came from his gaze. His face was scrunched up with pleasure, as was yours. But his eyes held a story of admiration and he looked at you as if you’d hung every shooting star he ever made a wish upon. You forced yourself to look away and shut your eyes. You picked up your pace and opened your eyes again as you began to hear the bed squeak.

“Fuck baby! oh shit mmm….fuck, tell me you love me..” You regretted your words the minute they left your mouth and you prayed to any higher power that he didn’t hear anything over the lewd noises your sexes were making. But of course….

”Mhmm, fuck Angel. ‘’love you. love your pussy. So good ah…” he let out a string of small gasps as he came deep in you. You felt his legs twitching beneath you and couldn’t hold yourself back. “FUCK!” you screamed out as your orgasm hit you like a thousand bricks at one time. your top half toppled over and you laid on his chest. He held you close with his arms still wrapped around you as his slowly softening cock slid out. You felt his hot seed spill out of you and shut your eyes in pleasure.

“Wow. That was- woah.” He cut himself off as he felt you quickly roll off of him and rush to pick your clothes off.

“Are you okay?” He looked genuinely concerned and that made you feel even worse. “Yeah” you gave him a fake smile. “I gotta go, sorry.” He looked like a kicked puppy and it made you want to cry even more. The guilt was appearing rapidly and Adam’s face kept popping up in your head. “Can’t you stay a bit longer?”

“No. I-I have to be somewhere by four.” He looked over to the clock on the wall and it read that it was just about to be two o’clock. He didn’t understand….everything went so well…didn’t it? You told him to tell you he loved you. Didn’t that mean something to you?

“Can I at least have your number?” The sides of his lips lifted a little as he thought of taking you out on a date one day. “My real name is Eddie by the way…if you’d let me…I’d love to take you ou-“

“I can’t! I can’t, alright!? I’m fucking married for crying out loud! I don’t know why I did this. None of it is your fault and I am so fucking sorry that I didn’t tell you before we…” There were hot tears running down your face as you avoided eye contact with his chocolate brown eyes.

“But you told me to tell you i loved you.”

“I know! I know what I told you to say and I’m really sorry Eddie. I just- I have to go. Goodbye.” Now fully dressed, you made your way to the door before reaching into your purse and walking back to him. You pulled out $50 and handed them to him. “For the troubles.” You let out a sob and walked out the hotel room. You stopped in your tracks as you heard a loud smack against the wall and a shout,

“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING MONEY!”

You were about to turn back to comfort him but the image of Adam slipped back into your mind…

“I am so screwed.”

Note: This is my first story on here! It was heavily inspired by the song ‘Trash Magic’ by Lana Del Rey. I’m so excited to have people read it and I’d appreciate any feedback! Thank you so much for reading loves <3 Bye bye!

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #sub!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson angst #angst #no happy ending #smut

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covid-safer-hotties · 8 months ago

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Also preserved on our archive

Not covid specific, but good to remember: Masking and other airborne disease prevention keeps you from getting other diseases like the flu too. Covid's not the only threat to your long-term health out there.

By Felicity Nelson

A study of around 500,000 medical records suggested that severe viral infections like encephalitis and pneumonia increase the risk of neurodegenerative diseases like Parkinson's and Alzheimer's.

Researchers found 22 connections between viral infections and neurodegenerative conditions in the study of around 450,000 people.

People treated for a type of inflammation of the brain called viral encephalitis were 31 times more likely to develop Alzheimer's disease. (For every 406 viral encephalitis cases, 24 went on to develop Alzheimer's disease – around 6 percent.)

Those who were hospitalized with pneumonia after catching the flu seemed to be more susceptible to Alzheimer's disease, dementia, Parkinson's disease, and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS).

Intestinal infections and meningitis (both often caused by a virus), as well as the varicella-zoster virus, which causes shingles, were also implicated in the development of several neurodegenerative diseases.

The impact of viral infections on the brain persisted for up to 15 years in some cases. And there were no instances where exposure to viruses was protective.

Around 80 percent of the viruses implicated in brain diseases were considered 'neurotrophic', which means they could cross the blood-brain barrier.

"Strikingly, vaccines are currently available for some of these viruses, including influenza, shingles (varicella-zoster), and pneumonia," the researchers wrote in their paper published last year.

"Although vaccines do not prevent all cases of illness, they are known to dramatically reduce hospitalization rates. This evidence suggests that vaccination may mitigate some risk of developing neurodegenerative disease."

In 2022, a study of more than 10 million people linked the Epstein-Barr virus with a 32-fold increased risk of multiple sclerosis.

"After reading [this] study, we realized that for years scientists had been searching – one-by-one – for links between an individual neurodegenerative disorder and a specific virus," said senior author Michael Nalls, a neurogeneticist at the National Institute on Aging in the US.

"That's when we decided to try a different, more data science-based approach," he said. "By using medical records, we were able to systematically search for all possible links in one shot."

First, the researchers analyzed the medical records of around 35,000 Finns with six different types of neurodegenerative diseases and compared this against a group of 310,000 controls who did not have a brain disease.

This analysis yielded 45 links between viral exposure and neurodegenerative diseases, and this was narrowed down to 22 links in a subsequent analysis of 100,000 medical records from the UK Biobank.

While this retrospective observational study cannot demonstrate a causal link, it adds to the pile of research hinting at the role of viruses in Parkinson's and Alzheimer's disease.

"Neurodegenerative disorders are a collection of diseases for which there are very few effective treatments and many risk factors," said co-author Andrew Singleton, a neurogeneticist and Alzheimer's researcher and the director of the Center for Alzheimer's and Related Dementias.

"Our results support the idea that viral infections and related inflammation in the nervous system may be common – and possibly avoidable – risk factors for these types of disorders."

This study was published in Neuron.

Study link: www.cell.com/neuron/fulltext/S0896-6273(22)01147-3?_returnURL=https%3A%2F%2Flinkinghub.elsevier.com%2Fretrieve%2Fpii%2FS0896627322011473%3Fshowall%3Dtrue

#mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #public health #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #wear a respirator #flu #influenza #shingles #meningitis #varicella-zoster

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consume-cs · 3 months ago

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safety net (01) ◯○ highschool lovers

cause' you don't know what love is, if you don't put up a fight | session 32 | 🕷️ bnd content | materialist

english isn't my first my language. ot6 scenario. non idol — teenage love ﷼

myung jaehyun

The playful couple, the ones who always seems happy and everyone can recognize you by your laugh because Jaehyun is always making you happy. Both of you love to play with each other, so anyone can see you running away from him as he's chasing you just to end in his arms a few seconds later.

park sungho

The protective one, he's so patient and caring when it's about you. He's a senior and you're a junior so he's like your shadow, always behind you and having you by his side. Also, he warms his basketball team to stay away from you.

lee riwoo

The supportive and talented couple, the one's who are always at the parties, dancing around and having so much fun. You're super supportive to each other so if you have a presentation or something, Riwoo is going to be there for you indeed.

han taesan

The couple no one thought would be together, because he's nonchalant and you're a happy virus. Even if he's a little awkward, he's always around and following you anywhere, loving you in silence and giving you secret kisses at the library.

kim leehan

The popular couple. He's at the football team and you're the cheerleader, so he's keeping an eye on you everytime he's practicing and dedicating his gols to you. Flirting and laughing is an everyday thing between you two.

kim woonhak

The silly couple. You're the cutest couple at highschool since you're always together, hugging each other and going around holding hands, not wanting to separate from each other. Woonhak is very caring and he's making sure you're feeling okay.

xoxo girl💋...

#boynextdoor #boynexdoor imagines #bnd #boynexdoor x reader #boynextdoor reactions #kim woonhak #bnd headcanons #bnd jaehyun #bnd fluff #bnd x reader #bnd imagines #woonhak #leehan #riwoo #taesan #jaehyun #boynextdoor drabbles

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twipsai · 8 months ago

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Revenge of Neo Metal includes Annual 2019

MV includes Tangle and Whisper as well as Annual 2020

Eggman's Legacy includes Bad Guys, Imposter Syndrome, and Free Comic Book Day 2022

Misadventures includes Scrapnik Island, 900th Adventure, Endless Summer, Halloween special, and Winter Jam

Phantom Rider includes Spring Broken

#sonic #sonic poll #sonic the hedgehog #sonic idw

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bikingdon · 2 months ago

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...yeah. yeah. major spoilers for 8x15. tw - major character death. read on ao3

Eddie gets the call at 9:32 on a Friday morning.

He's dropped Chris off at school and managed to pick up some groceries on the way home, he's got plans to swing by his favourite coffee shop for lunch and there's a marathon of Bake Off on later that he and Buck are gonna watch on facetime together when he gets off of shift, and things are okay. They're feeling solid for the first time in a while, like he's standing on solid ground for the first time in a long time, and like he might finally be finding his way.

So when Buck's name flashes across his phone at 9:32 on a Friday morning, he instantly picks up, tucking it between his shoulder and ear as he rummages through his bag to get to his eggs. "Hey, Buck. You guys must only have a few hours left of shift, right? Tell Chim that I got his movie recommendations, all seven texts worth, and that I only have so many hours left in my day—"

"Eddie." Buck says his name like it's been punched straight out of his chest, and it sets every single one of Eddie's senses on high alert, stopping in his tracks, eggs still in hand.

"What is it?" He questions, brow furrowing. "Is it Maddie? What's going on?"

"Eddie." Buck whispers, his voice hoarse in a way that tells Eddie he's been crying. "I– I need to tell you something." He takes a shaky breath, the words beginning to stream out of his mouth. "We– we were on a call and– and there was a fire at a lab and a– a virus and–"

"Buck, hey, breathe." Eddie says quietly, concern tingling at the tips of his fingers, like there's something he can't quite grasp. "Talk to me, what happened?"

Buck chokes out a shaky "Cap", sounding like he can't quite catch his breath, like the breaths he's trying to take are too big for his body before he manages to say, "Bobby didn't make it."

It's like part of Eddie's brain disengages, his legs turning to liquid beneath him as he slowly sinks into a dining chair. "What? Buck, you're not making any sense, what do you mean he didn't–"

"He's dead." Buck snaps, a pit forming in Eddie's stomach a mile wide as his world begins to shatter around him. Buck continues, a little quieter, "He was sick the entire time, and he didn't tell anyone. He made sure everyone was okay and then– he locked himself away to die alone, on the other side of the glass– god."

“Buck.” Eddie whispers, feeling completely outside of his own body. “Buck, what do you need?”

“Eddie? What–”

“What do you need from me?”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, save for Buck’s ragged breathing. Then, a quiet plea. “Come home.”

A lump forms in Eddie’s throat almost too thick to swallow around, something in the back of his brain telling him he should’ve been there all along. That maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help. He could’ve saved Bobby, or been there to hold his team up, or to do literally anything. Instead, he’s 800 miles away in a completely different state as his world is completely tipped on its head. Everything is wrong and Bobby is dead and Eddie feels like he’s not even human anymore.

The plastic of his phone creaks and groans in his hand as he nods absentmindedly, his actions sluggish as his brain tries to play catch-up. “We’ll be there soon.”

Buck takes a breath, sounding steady for the first time in the entire conversation. “Thank you.”

It’s 9:32 on a Friday morning when Eddie gets the call.

It’s 9:37 when he hangs up.

It’s 2:07 in the afternoon ten days later when he and Chris return from LA, hearts a little more broken, a piece of them forever hollowed out.

The eggs are still on the table where he left them. Life goes on.

#911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #rebecca writes #911 on abc #what the fuck lol what the actual fuck

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gallifreyanhotfive · 1 year ago

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 31

The Master and Ace can sense when each other are near because they were both infected with the Cheetah Virus.

The Eighth Doctor met Lucie Miller before The Blood of the Daleks but did not tell her this to protect the timeline.

The Ninth Doctor once told Rose that he had at one point married a woman named Mary Wortley Montagu for love.

The TARDIS translation circuit has a swear filter.

The Seventh Doctor gave his companion Raine presents for every birthday she had growing up.

The Fifth Doctor had been teaching Adric how to fly the TARDIS. During simulations, Adric kept killing everyone while in flight.

The Tenth Doctor kept Winnie the Pooh bed linens on the TARDIS.

Teddy Acree stated that the Eighth Doctor had "destroyed millions and killed himself twice." This was set before the audios, where he would do this several more times.

The Eleventh Doctor once speculated that Gavrilo Princip had been conditioned by the Daleks to assassinate Archduke Franz Ferdinand with the intent of plunging Earth into war, which the Daleks would have used to their advantage. This notion was never confirmed to be true however.

Becky was the Sixth Doctor's dance teacher (and paradoxically the Sixth Doctor was her dance teacher). She is one of the few people the Doctor entertained potentially having a romantic relationship with, but he discarded the notion quickly. She knew what his real name was.

The Fifth Doctor was once mistaken for a hired assassin called the Scorpion. Although he had begun to deny this, Nyssa went along with their assumption, saying that she was his apprentice, the bloodthirsty Nyssa the Destroyer.

Grace Holloway came up with the alias Dr. James Alistair Bowman for the Eighth Doctor while trying to get into the New Year's Eve party. He would continue to use this as an alias occasionally throughout this regeneration.

Roberta Sampson was a young werewolf who became Susan's friend. When she transformed, the First Doctor shot her in the leg with silver bullets and went on trial for her murder. The Second, Third, Fifth, and Eighth Doctors infiltrated the jury to ensure he would be found not guilty.

Despite being Susan's son, Alex was only 7% Gallifreyan. He had one heart, no telepathic skills, and couldn't regenerate.

The Doctor and other Time Lords have body temperatures of about 15 degrees C.

The Eighth Doctor has worn blue eye shadow before.

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dustyrkives · 4 months ago

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Venom and Velvet

PAIRING: Ada Wong x fem reader

WARNINGS: Damnation Ada, president r, profanity, older Ada, age-difference (Ada is 37 while r is 32), this is my own spinoff so... anyways, idk anything abt government positions or the hierarchy of authority so please bear with me, political intrigue, deception, manipulation, tension, dubious morality, power-struggle, mutual obsession, E2L, slight degradation, hard dom Ada, praise, fingering, manhandling, oral fixation, unprotected sex, GP Ada because I said so! Orgasm control, possessive Ada, dirty talk and that's about it me thinks.

SYNOPSIS: When a deadly outbreak threatens your country, you turn to BSAA agent for help—but something about her feels off. The more you rely on her, the more you suspect she’s manipulating you, until the truth hits harder than you ever expected. Now, cornered and outplayed, you realize too late—you were never in control.

PS: I chose to be fucked as president, anyways enjoy!

MEN DNI

You knew that woman was trouble when your Secretary of Defense suggested her expertise for your country's... peculiar situation.

Perhaps it’s the air around her—swirling with mystery, allure, and danger. Her sharp, inquisitive, and intelligent eyes that somehow always on you, watching your expression; anticipating your reaction.

And her voice—confident, juxtaposing and deceivingly gentle.

There's just something–off about her, and you should've followed your gut instincts the moment she had you cornered, trapping you against her–her arms caged your sides as sharp, dark brown eyes piercing yours as she looks down at you with that signature blasted smirk of hers.

Ada Wong–or is that even her real name?

She came into your homeland with the promise of answers to the rampant infection spreading in one of your towns–the disease started two weeks ago when one of the locals bit a vendor, then shit hit the fan. You had to put the town and its neighboring area under quarantine to keep your people safe.

You've heard cases like these dating back decades–the Raccoon City incident was the most known. Your council thought it was best to keep the information about the town's state a secret from the others–it was a difficult decision, and one that you're sure will be faced with backlash. But you don't have a choice–it has to be contained before others find out the barbaric nature of the infection and make the other curious to what extent of power it holds.

Of course, not many people adhere to your decision–hence, the political unrest and whispers of resistance from the neighboring towns form arms against you.

And now, you have to deal with a virus and rebels.

Until your Secretary of Defense made a private audience with you and gave your country the answer to your problem. He said that the woman is from the BSAA: Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance. An agent wearing a pinstripe dress suit with a red shirt for her inner suit jacket. Somber makeup, a careful face and a guarded mouth.

"Wonderful," Or so you thought. She did as expected of her–to give information and provide aid on how to stop the virus: killing the infected, being very cautious for any sign of infections from the survivors, and placing them in quarantine.

Ada also helped you distract the public and have them approve of your legislation, but why do you have a strange feeling lingering in your gut about the agent? For every meeting, you'd catch her keeping a keen eye on you as if she knew what to say and what you wanted to hear–your reactions, expressions... you name it.

It was...strange

Or perhaps it's been a long time since you had someone as competent as her in your office?

It feels as though she's become attuned to you–and you to her.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

You refused to believe it. You refused to acknowledge and dwell on it.

But–oh, human desire is such a damning thing. From intentional mishaps such as brushing contact to the heat in her eyes, the way her voice would go an octave lower when speaking to you–it was unbecoming.

You know that she's aware of what she's doing.

Oh, how your heart sears at your helplessness against the older woman. The agent.

That's why one night, you ordered one of your men to follow her, to find out about her activities and see what she's hiding–and at the same time, hired a private detective about this woman's past and contact the BSAA under the guise of misconduct.

And oh, were you in for a surprise.

She isn't a BSAA agent. Before an informant can expound his findings, you thank him for his services and end the call. That single information is everything you needed to know–you needed to grasp.

Confront her and put an end to this.

Then why are you pinned against her on your desk?

"You made me look like a fool," You seethe through gritted teeth as you glower at her, legs trembling and pulse quickening under her confident and mocking gaze. She chuckles deeply–your stomach churns as warmth pools in between your legs.

"Oh, madam president," She leans down, "The fool here, is you." Her arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against her, elusive yet unforgettable scent fills your senses–coaxing you to submit to her.

Your breath hitches at the sudden action as she continues. "I was just waiting for you to realize it."

"Why not flee?" You struggle against her grip, "You had what you wanted. Why not run away?"

Ada's chest reverberates with a hum, "And leave you?"

Your organs constrict. She'll leave you?

The voice at the back of your head begged: no!

A soft whimper rips from your lips as the older woman's knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

"We both know that's not what you want." The short-haired woman coos before pressing a kiss against the corner of your lips, and your brain goes haywire. "And it's not what I want, either." Her warm breath fans against the side of your face before pulling away with an–oh, so alluring smile.

"W-why?" You stammer, hands pressing against her neatly pressed suit, and the latter purrs in delight. "Oh, don't play coy." Ada chides as her other hand grasps the back of your head and gently tug it back; exposing your neck for her.

"You know why..."

The tips of her lips brushed against your skin, and your knees buckled when she pressed a kiss on the center of your neck.

Damn this woman.

"But since you insist on being clueless, I'll tell you." Ada surges forward, and you let out a pitiful squeak as your back slams against the tabletop, the spy hovering above you. "Shall I begin by reminding you of your response to my subtle advances?" She grins devilishly as her hand caresses the back of your thigh and lifts it. "The way you'd flush whenever I caught you staring?"

"You're simply too entertaining to leave."

Your skin prickles as her voice drops an octave lower. "I'd thought you'd remain composed, but you blushed like a whore." She hisses, "In front of the senate, really?" Ada muses as she unzips your pencil skirt, letting it fall unceremoniously on the floor, and her index finger doesn't waste time hooking itself onto the hem of your panties.

Your pussy is exposed out in the open.

"Is this who you are, hm?" The short-haired woman coos and slides your underwear off of your smooth legs–you didn't hesitate to accommodate her, desire bristling as she latches her lips onto your neck, sinking her teeth, eliciting a mewl from you while your hands latch onto her back, crumpling her top.

Her hands pry your legs open while her clothed bulge pokes your cunt.

Ada growls softly as her lips traverse to your mouth, lips molding against hers as her hands make quick work of unfastening her belt, unzipping her pants and letting her cock spring out from its tight contraptions, rubbing her shaft against yours.

Your moans are muffled by her kiss, with her other hand loosening your blouse and groping your right boob, your legs instinctively circle around her waist and grind against her.

"Uh–ah, sweetheart," Ada warns as she leans away and unfastens the buttons of her suit, allowing you to only see the deep cleavage and a peek at her toned stomach. Her alabaster skin is exposed to your eyes only.

She looms above you again, her hands supporting her weight with the other one without hesitation penetrating your folds, you bite back an embarrassingly loud moan as she quickly drills her fingers back and forth, sweat dripped from her forehead down to her chin, trickling down in your cheek as you walls clamp around her well-manicured fingers, her cock throbs and twitches, wanting to be inside you too.

"Moan for me," She growls, "Let the people on this entire floor know who's fucking the president."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she rubs your walls, "Come on now, baby. Don't be shy, your pussy's taking me so well."

God, this is so unbecoming.

You obey the older girl; letting your moans spill from your lips and making her smirk in pride as she grinds her hips to relieve herself from finishing at the sight.

"Good girl," Ada purrs and leans down, licking the shell of your ear, your back arches at the possessive undertone of her declaration. "My good girl."

You preen on her praise as she fastens her finger's pace, toes curling, stomach-twisting and eyes snapping shut as pleasure takes over you. Ada chuckled darkly as sweat thinly veils your skin; she flatly presses her tongue against your neck, it makes you feel tainted as she drags her tongue to your chin and finally inside your mouth, greedily swallowing your cries as the desk creaks.

Your hands scramble to her nape, opting to pull her closer as your legs and ankles lock around her slim waist, Ada groans at your neediness as she plunges and curls her finger alternating it, desperate to bring you to your undoing. Your stomach now tightens as your walls clamp around her fingers vehemently, signaling her as your arousal drips from your squelching heat. Ada breaks the kiss and bites your shoulder, your cunt convulses and—

Ada withdraws her fingers, making you thrash and whine at the loss of contact.

The agent's lips twitched to a dark smirk as she brings her fingers to her mouth and licks it clean, before deciding to wrap her tongue around her fingers and suck it dry.

Your chest heaves up and down as you resist the urge of letting tears of frustration roll down your face.

The woman above you takes pity at your predicament and sighed and withdraws her fingers from her mouth with a loud 'pop'.

"Open your mouth baby," She commands, eyes urging you to obey. Without hesitation, she inserts her fingers inside your mouth, your tongue immediately wraps around her coated digits as your arousal mixed with her saliva coats your lips

"That's it. Suck it clean, slut."

Desire once again ignites within you as she pulls her fingers away and inserts them inside her mouth. Her other hand lowers her trousers while precum leaks from her soft pink tip after being neglected. Dark brown eyes trained on your empty cunt just waiting to be stuffed by her.

Greed and lust spread like wildfire with her cock now throbbing painfully hard, there was no more time for foreplay, not now at least.

With her right hand, she strokes her cock before pushing it all in, you audibly gasp as her veins rub deliciously against your walls, the older woman shamelessly moans as her hips begin to pump back and forth, and your head falls back atop the table, letting Ada see the stiff muscles your neck move–she bristles in lust and animalistic desire as she slams her hips.

Your nails scrape against her clothed back as ecstasy shoots through your body again. Her dick fills you to the brim as she pistons her hips. Your lips latch onto her jaw, neck, and sometimes behind her ear to distract yourself from making too much noise.

Ada's hands grab the top end of the table with a death grip as both your pussy and her length throb. Sweat drips from all pores of her skin as she fastens her pace, her lips leaving marks and kisses on your skin as she angles her hips, elaborating her thrusts; you moan helplessly, eyes rolling back as she fucks you into the furniture.

"That's it," The spy grunts, her bangs sticking on her forehead, dripping with sweat. Your hands pull her by the nape, keeping her close. "You're such a good girl for me," Ada huffs and supports her weight using her arms, "Letting me fuck you like this, letting me ruin you like the whore you are."

An animalistic growl vibrates on her chest and presses a kiss on your forehead. You're too fucked-out to pay heed to the filthy sound of skin-slapping echo in the room. Until a lecherous moan rips from Ada's lips, your walls clamp shamelessly around her while the woman on top of you pounds with all her might before cumming unannounced, shooting thick spurts of cum inside your eager walls, forcing an orgasm out of you as your mouth morphs to an 'o' while you milk around her cock.

The older woman shudders as she sees your mixed fluids leak from your folds, her cock twitches and thrusts harder, spraying cum all over the desk and she doesn't stop, no matter how loud your whine and whimper–she won't.

You feel too good to stop.

Ada jogs her hips, oh–she has this urge to break you. The desk creaks, threatening to break beneath your sinful deeds. She bites her lower lip, eyes drinking the sight of you: messy, unkempt, and smell of both perfume and sweat. Her dark eyes watch in amazement and carnal delight as your breast move with each vulgar thrust.

"Look at you," She moans softly, "Such a pliant little slut for me–letting me stuff my cum in you."

"Want me to cum inside you again?" Ada pants as she grabs your thighs, folding you into a mating press, "Want me to make you my bitch?"

You mewl at the suggestion as she continues, "Should I stuff you with my cum and make you feel me drip while you sign your fucking documents?"

Your moans turn to pathetic sobs as her pace turns sloppy. "A-Ada–fuck, too much please–"

"Take it." She commands with a deep tone. "A good slut like you will take my cum, so be a good girl for me and let go, unless you're not my good girl, hm?"

You sob as your legs quiver, the desk's hinges creak and protest while the tip of her cock taps and pokes your cervix, almost making you scream while your hand grips her lithe arms for leverage while you feel like breaking.

Ada's name leaves your mouth like a sinful mantra, hands grabbing her locks, eliciting a hiss from her as your stomach tightens again.

"You're. Mine." She grunts with each thrust. "This-thrust-pussy-thrust-belongs-thrust-to-thrust-me-."

"Ada, I'm going to cum!"

"You are?" She mocks, "Go ahead, baby."

The knot inside your stomach snaps as Ada's teeth sink into the juncture of your neck as you cum again, breath practically knocked out of your lungs. Ada plummets her cock as deep as your walls allow; her hot, thick ropes of semen spill inside you, filling your stuffed womb with another batch of her potent seed while the excess drips down to your ass and onto the tabletop.

You couldn't stop the mewls and whimpers leaving your lips, your walls battered, stuffed, and claimed.

Ada takes her phone with a smirk and captures a photo of your scandalous state. You weakly reach for her hand, begging for her to stop but the former doesn't care.

"Don't worry," A vile grin graces her flustered yet still beautiful features.

"I'll make sure it's for my eyes only."

#ada wong x reader #ada wong #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #older women<3 #oneshot #wlw ns/fw #wlw post #wlw #sapphic #wuh luh wuh #x reader #reader insert #fem reader

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gbhbl · 2 years ago

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10 Great Modern Horror Movies to Watch This Halloween (That We Think You’ve Never Seen) – 2023 Edition

For the fourth year in a row, we want to talk about modern horrors we think you should definitely be checking out this Halloween season.

For the fourth year in a row, we want to talk about modern horrors we think you should definitely be checking out this Halloween season. Movies that you may have missed, movies that delighted us and movies we think are good enough to recommend. Now, our definition of modern is ‘released’ in the last 5 to 6 years. Some might be brand-new (released this year), others may be a couple of years old…

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#Brain Freeze #Craving #Deadstream #Glorious #Halloween #horror #Horror Movie #Mind Leech #Older Gods #Scare Package #Scare Package II: Rad Chad&039;s Revenge #Tailgate #Virus:32

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neeeooon · 7 days ago

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shut me up ;

32 | y/n the virus

ft. fem!reader & kaiser, ness (mentioned)

cw. cussing, nudity (partial), angst, heavy angst, kaiser struggling with his feelings

you twiddled your thumbs as you waited anxiously for kaiser to answer his door. you came straight from work, still dressed in your uniform, to talk to him. in the elevator, you read over your messages and cringed at how your tone had come across. it was vague, avoidant, a little nasty, and you hoped it didn’t freak him out too much.

a twinge of relief sparked in your chest when the door opened, revealing kaiser with nothing but a towel around his waist. your eyes bulged, hands immediately flying to your face. your skin felt hot beneath your palms. “what are you doing?!” you screeched.

kaiser’s door opened wider, at least you assumed so based on the creaking sounds. “i was about to dry my hair,” he replied casually, as if his entire chest, still decorated in droplets of water, wasn’t on display.

keeping your eyes covered, you stepped blindly into his apartment and closed the door behind you. “you’re so infuriating!” you scolded, turning your back to him so that you could remove your hands from over your eyes.

kaiser chuckled behind you. “that’s what you walked to talk to me about? i’m infuriating?”

“yes!” closing your eyes, you turned until you guessed you were facing the singer, and propped both hands on your hips. “the way you were looking at me during the show was inappropriate.”

even as you said it, you felt yourself blushing. the sound of bare feet against wooden floors echoed close, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating off of kaiser.

“inappropriate?”

“mhm. yes, and now your fans think we’re married.”

kaiser tsked. “let them think whatever they want. who cares?”

not me, you wanted to say, but that wasn’t the point. resisting the urge to groan, you felt your shoulders sag slightly and peeked at the man. where he grabbed a robe, you weren’t sure, but at least you weren’t distracted by his nakedness any longer.

you tried to keep the awkwardness from your voice as you said, “you confuse me… the last time i was here, i told myself i wouldn’t be back until you made an effort to change. you hurt my feelings. but then you do and say these things that make my insides feel all twisted, and i don’t know what to do.” you took a breath, struggling to meet his eyes. “i just… why did you do that? sing that song? what am i supposed to be to you?”

when you did look up, you weren’t expecting what you saw. a mix of emotions you weren’t used to seeing appeared on kaiser’s face, the most prevalent being exhaustion and distress. like he didn’t know the answer, either, and it was wearing on him just as much, if not more, than it was on you.

after a moment, you feared he wouldn’t have an answer for you and shifted as if about to take a step back. kaiser’s eyes took on a desperate look as he hurried forward, reaching out for you before freezing and immediately snapping his hands back to his sides. he opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again. you stayed quiet as he collected his thoughts. finally, kaiser’s expression turned pinched, and his hands curled into fists.

“you’re a virus.”

you raised a brow, insulted and about to ask what that was supposed to mean, when kaiser hurried to explain. “you infected me. invaded my thoughts, my dreams, everything. you live in my head. i think about you so much, i feel like i’m going insane.” he paused, sighing. for a moment, you thought you saw him trembling. “when i have a problem, you’re the person i want to seek out for help. when the lyrics i write get approved or i get compliments from the guys, you’re the one i want to tell. and it’s bad, because i don’t know how to handle any of it. you’re like a cough i can’t shake, and at this point, i don’t think i want to.”

patiently, you waited for him to calm down enough to know he was done. being compared to a disease, an infection, a cough, all things associated with the bad, made your eyes sting a little. but he was trying; that much was obvious.

you didn’t know much about kaiser the person… other than that he liked bread crust rusks and preferred to paint his nails blue over black. that you were around him long enough to find his smell familiar. that he had your schedule memorized and tapped on your wall to get your attention. that he was a good listener when he wanted to be. that when he smiled, genuinely smiled, you felt weak to your knees. and finally, that his way of confessing his feelings for you was by getting up on a stage in front of hundreds of people and singing your favorite song.

you didn’t realize you were smiling until kaiser asked, “what’s that look on your face for?”

humming softly, you looked up at him and let your smile grow. “you’re not ready for that, yet.”

kaiser looked confused but didn’t argue. his eye twitched slightly, lip flinching, and ran the tip of his tongue along his inner bottom lip. “i’m sorry i confuse you. there are things about myself i don’t want you to know.”

“that’s fine,” you nodded. despite the short distance between you and the flutter his warmth was sending through you, you didn’t take a step back. “i’ll still be one door over when you do.”

kaiser’s gaze wavered as it slid across your face. blue as bright as a summer sky darted over your features—your eyes, your lips. you felt your breathing still. he was too close. not close enough. you stepped forward, he took one back.

“wait,” kaiser choked, and you disappeared from his space. pressing yourself against the opposing wall, you kept your hands behind your back as you waited. “i…”

he faltered, murmured a curse beneath his breath, and suddenly, his hands were in your hair. kaiser’s thumbs trailed the length of your jaw, angling your face toward his. his brilliant gaze flicked between your irises, holding you captive as you stood in his grasp.

he dipped down, so close you felt his nose graze the flushed skin of your cheek. his fingers idly tapped and dragged along the sides of your throat, applying just enough pressure to keep himself grounded, but not enough to hurt.

“i can’t kiss you,” he rushed, warm breath hitting your ear and forcing a shiver down your spine, but you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself. “i can’t. you’re too good.” he paused and pulled away, swallowing so hard the apple in his throat bobbed. “there’s too much… i’m too much.”

kaiser flinched violently when your fingers grazed the skin beneath his eye, but he pulled a hand from your chin to grab your wrist before you could retreat. his eyes were shattered as he looked at you.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, but kaiser shook his head and slowly brought your hand back to his face.

“no, ‘t’s nice.”

he looked so vulnerable like this, cheek resting gingerly against your fingertips. you wanted to press your palm to his flushed skin, but figured that wasn’t the best idea. all thoughts of your previous interactions, the fighting and calling each other annoying, vanished from your mind.

kaiser’s eyelids fluttered as he sank deeper into your touch. your lips parted, dozens of questions fighting to be the first, but you shut them instead and watched him lie against your hand.

vulnerable had been your first thought, but he looked peaceful. he looked content with just this, with the feel of your hand against his face. something deep in your soul told you he needed it. you didn’t pull away, and you weren’t going to until kaiser moved first.

the ding of a phone forced him to straighten and step out of your grasp. he didn’t say anything to you before reaching for his phone, and your brows creased at the immediate way his back tensed beneath the robe. “is everything o—“

“you should go,” kaiser cut you off curtly, his words clipped with irritation. it was such a change from how he’d just been with you that you weren’t entirely sure how to react.

“kaiser,” you stepped forward, but his head hung low. “go, y/n. please.”

freezing, blinking the moisture from your eyes, you stared at the back of his head a little longer before sulking from the room, silently wondering, guiltily, if this was how ness felt that night, too.

masterlist // previous (ch 31) // next (ch 33)

notes -> next ch is going to be intense. please read the cws beforehand. i will be adding a chapter summary at the end for those who choose to skip over it, and will make another note for those who miss this one :)

tags -> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyoo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie @ranzess @cookiesandcreammy @nevvynev @stwberri @mikeymyfav @dontmindtheevie @kaikaidenkai @mizukiblogs @ravenbc @yvanllie @cyberasterrr @lily-isalittlegirl @yourlocaleffy @hanamatopoeia

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evanmyersbadhabit · 2 months ago

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⦻‼️ My Creepypasta Age HC'S‼️⦻

📸‼️~ YAPPIN' TIME YAHOOOO!! Gonna yap about how Old I think Creepypasta Characters are!! :3 ... but not all of them💔Just ones I have ship ocs for.. and maybe a few I think are kewl..🎀

☣️‼️~ BEFORE I START!! I just wanna say that these are my opinions and It's completely fine to have your own or disagree with mine. As someone who's been a Creepypasta fan since I was in elementary school, I think fighting over something as silly as the ages of fictional characters is unnecessary, so Please keep any and all negative comments to yourself, Thank you !! <3

💊‼️~ CW/TW: None.. uhm.. Yeah🎀

📺‼️~ Starting off with: Pastas I have Ship ocs with

Slenderman: I'd like to think he's essentially Ageless, but has the physical appearance of a man well into his 30's, Hence my Ship oc, Zariah (It/She) is 31 yrs old.

Jeff The Killer: Since He never canonically died, he could have been a teen when his story started, I'd like to think he was Probably around 16 at the start (if we still fw the Slendermansion thing he spawned in there at 16), and roughly 30 by now, Based on the OG story being set in 2011 (which does mention he was 13 but shhhh), add a few years and BOOM!! He's 30. (But even if you use age 13, 13 + 14 = 27) My Oc, Tristan (It/They/He) is about 26.

Ticci Toby: Again, another case of a character never dying, Wiki says he was born around 1994, and he was 17 at the start of his story, which would mean his story also took place around 2011. Doing the Math (17 + 14..) He would be roughly around 30 to 31 years old, my oc, Zach (He/It), is around 24.

Laughing Jack: Now... Wiki says he's Ageless.. I'd Agree.. somewhat. I'd like to think he's been around for years, hence he's a demon, so an estimated Age would be well over 150 Years old. NOW!! My oc on the other hand, Trevor (He/It), he's 201 years old.. Old man bruh.

Eyeless Jack: The Wiki says Photos first popped up around 2010.. yet an actual story wasn't made till about 2012. His story says he was 19 at the start of his story, now doing the math (19 + 13..) He'd be roughly 32. My oc, Valentino (He/It), He's 24.

📽️‼️~ Ending with: A few Pastas I find Kewl..🎀

BEN DROWNED: Ben's age has always been a bit.. difficult to figure out as some say 'oh hes like 12' and others are like 'no no he's an adult' so eughh.. DOING RESEARCH.. wiki said he was born in 1990 and died in 2002.. making him 12 at his death. NOW DOING MATH AGAIN.. (2025 - 2002.. 23.. and.. 23 + 12..) if he hadn't died, He'd be roughly in his 30's, 35 to be exact. I'd say maybe Bro got the same issue Five from The Umbrella Academy had,, Young body, old age.. But I'd just roughly say he's ageless due to all the confusion in regards to his age..

Sally Williams: Her OG Story says she's Eight, yet the Remake says she's Twelve.. SOOOO.. I'd like to place her somewhat in the Middle at roughly 10.

Bloody Painter/Helen Otis: Wiki says he's 26.. and I don't know enough to play the math guessing game,, so he's staying 26..🎀

Jason The Toymaker: Wiki doesn't give an age.. SIGH!! But from what I've read, I'd assume once he became.. whatever he is, He'd became.. ageless I guess?? So.. That's what I'ma go with..🎀

X-Virus: Wiki says He's the same Age as Toby.. SO WITH THAT INFORMATION!! I'd assume he's roughly 30 to 31 years old :3

🧾‼️~ ANDDD THATS IT!! All yappin' done.. Enjoy :3

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thewinter-eden · 28 days ago

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Blood Sugar Virus (32)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense, slow burn Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, zombies, language, discussion of parasites, gore, angst, heavy topics, suggestive content

Story Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

< last chapter | masterlist | next chapter >

Jin still hasn’t quieted.

He’s not as wild as he was when the clamor of the shattering glass and the blaring intercom set him off, but you can hear him thumping against the door, rasping hungrily in the darkness of the supply closet.

You sit next to Jimin, letting him lean his weight against you, listening to the oldest member of your acting team succumb to the ravenous will of the parasites that infest him.

In the absence of the noisy, energetic presence of the others, your thoughts are left to darken heavily with the cruel and careless murder of your team.

Only a few hours ago, you’d entered the building with them, cheerfully discussing your plans for the evening, your excitement for one of your biggest programs ever, issuing reminders for their specific roles and instructions for your more dramatic actors to maintain at least some adherence to the scripts.

Jin and Hoseok had been the target of your warnings. Known for unplanned improvisations and escalations of the atmosphere, the two older actors had playfully listened to your rote threats before heading off to their designated stations with no intention of heeding your orders.

They were excellent actors, good men, phenomenally skilled at working a dynamic environment. No matter how off-script they decided to go, you and Namjoon had full trust that they would remain faithful to your storyline and representation, even if it was in their own capacity.

Now they’re both gone.

Almost all of them are gone.

How is it possible that you lost the majority of your family in one fell stroke? How could you have known those were your last moments with them, and that mere moments later they would face their terrifying and horrific fates alone?

Heart swelling with sorrow, you reach for Jimin’s hand and squeeze it tight. He stirs wearily, turning his head against your shoulder.

“How are you feeling, Chim?” You ask him softly, running your free hand through his hair.

He groans and lets out a labored breath. “Feels like someone’s sawing my leg off.” He mumbles. “God, why does it hurt this bad?”

You push away the reflexive fear that maybe something survived in him, continuing its greedy ascent up his body, and brush his dark hair out of his face. “You’ve been eaten alive, dude. I’m amazed you’re still conscious, if I’m honest with you.”

Overhearing your conversation from where he’s pacing near the shattered window, Yeosang glances to you before grabbing the first aid kit that you had used so long ago to patch up Wooyoung’s arm.

“What do you think we should do when this is over?” Jimin asks softly.

When you’re silent, heart racing, he gives your hand the lightest squeeze.

“Please talk to me.” He whispers. “It hurts so bad, I just need to talk about something.”

Yeosang rifles through the first aid box, spilling bandaids and antiseptic pastes all over the floor. He finally comes up with a handful of those pitiful packets of Tylenol, bringing them to Jimin. “It’s pretty worthless, but if you take four or five of them it might take the edge off.”

You remember the water bottles that you’d packed into your duffel bag, and struggle to reach it where it’s still slung across your back. With Jimin leaning against you so much, you can’t work your free hand around to grasp the zipper. “Yeo,”

He meets your eyes, brows lifted in question.

“There’s water in my bag. Can you get one of them out for him?”

He drops the Tylenol packets on the desk by your knee and moves around behind you to unzip your bag. You hold yourself still as he rummages through it, pulling out two bottles, and closing the zipper back up.

“You can focus on your songwriting.” You suggest to Jimin. “You always said you never had enough time to pursue it like you wanted to.”

Yeosang comes back around in front of you, breaking the seal on one of the bottles and setting it down so he can rip open the Tylenol packets.

Jimin shakes his head against you. “I’d rather do this. I mean, fuck, not this. I don’t want to give up the acting. The choreography and the stories and the characters. I don’t want this to be over.”

Your gut twists to think of him waking up when this is all over, wanting to just get himself ready and head in to work as he always does, only to be hit with the realization once again that it will never be the same.

It will never be the way it was, not without your team.

“You can still act.” You tell him gently.

Yeosang cups the handful of tablets in his palm and brings it to Jimin’s lips, instructing him quietly to take them. Jimin lets him drop the tablets into his mouth, and struggles to lift his head so Yeosang can put the bottle to his lips and tip him enough to swallow.

Jimin downs the pills, coughing, and asks for more water.

As Yeosang helps him, you try to come up with something encouraging, anything hopeful. “The company is still out there, if they don’t decide to shut down after this. They’ll put you on a new team, and they’ll probably give you permission to use some of our old programs.”

Jimin groans again, and you feel his bad leg twitch against the desk. “We could start a new company,” he murmurs. “Me, you, Joon, and Rosé. We can start from the ground up, make our own rules.”

In the moments that pass as he takes a few more drinks and gasps with exertion, you meet Yeosang’s eyes. He’s already watching you, waiting for your response, knowing you have no plans of going home and starting your own company—knowing you’re going to lie.

You break your gaze away, unable to carry the weight of his disapproving stare. “We should start our own company.” Your words are hollow. “We’ll be even more successful. We’ll put those old bastards we work for out of business.”

Jimin huffs a vindicated laugh. “Hell yeah. We can do all those programs they never let us do.“

You can’t fight your wry grin. “They don’t let us because they’re expensive and dangerous.”

“What programs aren’t you allowed to do?” Yeosang wonders, opening the second bottle and handing it to you.

You gratefully drink, your body relaxing as the cool liquid pours down your throat. When you’re finished, you hand the bottle back to him and gesture for him to drink from it. “It’s mostly based on locations and equipment. We wanted to do some on a ship, like one of those old war boats that they’ve turned into historical museums and hotels. We had some ideas for actual overnight programs, ones that last like a weekend at a campsite or in a hotel—extra scary and immersive for clients, but extra expensive and more liability. The company didn’t go for it.”

“They sound like fun, as long as they don’t involve actual crimes and horrors.” Yeosang says, sitting on the desk on your other side. On the narrow surface that is now holding three of you, his thigh is pressed against yours, your shoulders glued together.

“Yeah, they were gonna be sick as fuck.” Jimin agrees. “We can do all of those programs with our own company.”

Your smile turns sad. “Yeah,” you whisper emptily. “We’ll do all of them.”

You can’t even imagine it; writing stories and training new scenes and applying for new licenses and permits. You can’t sit in a studio late at night, comfortable with half a dozen empty energy drinks and takeout boxes, curled over your computer where the ideas and inspiration just come and come, filling you with vocational bliss.

You’ll never have that again. How can you write fun horror stories, knowing what you’ve done? How can you write deaths and killings, knowing you’ve committed your own with your bare hands? How can you write courageous heroes and innocent victims for yourself to play, knowing that when you were faced with actual fear of death, you caved to basest human instincts and chose to save yourself at the expense of someone else?

How does anybody write horror stories with normal people killing to survive, and writing them as though the characters can just deal with those experiences as though it all just happened in the fog of war and they can just get over it?

Your stories are garbage; woefully unrealistic.

You lived one in real life tonight, watching people you’ve known and loved with all your soul turn into impossible monsters, facing decisions like having to axe familiar faces to death, using the bodies of people you’ve worked with and cared for to shield yourself from a terrible death.

It’s not as easy as just running and panicking and hoping you survive.

It’s a wicked corruption of good people. It’s a destruction of everything you used to be, every thought process you’ve ever had, a mutation into someone you don’t even recognize—someone who has forced a human being to be carnally ripped apart in order to ensure your survival.

You were supposed to be better. You’re raised and taught and disciplined by society and moral values to get through life peacefully, without ever entertaining the idea of strategizing through acceptable loss of life.

You were never supposed to rationalize the loss of humanity and essence of someone becoming an emptied out monster so that you can feel better about allowing a person to be brutally eviscerated.

Unaware of the existential undoing of your soul, Jimin tries to adjust himself to a more comfortable position. “I still vote you as captain in our new company.” He remarks. “Sorry, but I’m not built for leadership. I’m all about breaking rules and shirking responsibility.”

You snort. “I don’t need to be told that, Chim. But for what it’s worth, I think you’d be a better leader than me.”

He scoffs. “There’s no way. I’d suck. All of the decisions and pressure you and Joon deal with would suck the fun out of it for me, and we’d all crash and burn. This captain would sink his own ship and go down with it.”

“I couldn’t do it either.” Yeosang says. “It’s too much pressure, doing what Hongjoong does. I show up for recordings and shoots and practice sessions, and that’s it. I clock out when it’s done and go home, and he stays all night and grows grey hairs just working to keep us afloat.”

“Yeah, see? He gets me.” Jimin wheezes a pitiful laugh. “No offense, Yeosang, but I wouldn’t have voted for you anyway. You seem like the following type.”

“None taken, I’m a singer. Kind of already have a job.” Yeosang shoots back, and grins at you.

Your responding glance is lackluster, but you smile anyway. “Yeah, you guys are probably gonna get out of here and lock yourselves in your studio as far away from horror programs as possible, right? I don’t expect a good review after this.”

“Hey, we were promised zombies. We got zombies.” He responds reasonably. “Technically, that’s not a breach of contact.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Please, they’re not going anywhere.” Jimin retorts. “We’re friends for life now. Friends who fight zombies together stay together.”

“We’ll get that on a tee shirt.” Yeosang promises.

“And besides, you guys are all cutesy and coupley now. I’m expecting to see a lot more of you, at least. Unless you guys are just decompressing in the heat of the moment and you friendzone each other once the adrenaline fades.”

You elbow Jimin lightly. “Mind your own business, asshole.”

But Yeosang doesn’t seem nearly as put off as you expected. “No, I’ll be around.” It’s his turn to elbow you. “I was promised Jeju Island. And I fully intend to meet Ponk. I’ve always wanted a cat.”

You elbow him back. “You were promised no such thing.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re right, Jeju Island was my idea. I’ll take full credit for the trip, you’re welcome.”

“Jeju Island?” Jimin muses. “That sounds nice. Look at you, already planning romantic dates.”

“Can you not insert yourself into this?” You grumble. “The two of you are insufferable.”

“Oh, this is nothing.” Jimin teases. “Remember when we had GOT7 last month? They wanted a ghost episode to put out after their comeback.” He explains to Yeosang. “Actually, Mark wanted killer clowns but the rest of his group weren’t vibing with that.”

You groan just thinking about it.

“Remember when Jay kept flirting with you and Hobi kept trying to push you together?”

Yeosang raises his eyebrows at you. “Isn’t he kind of old?”

You fix him with a deadpan look. “He’s my age.”

His eyes go wide. “I was kidding. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry, I don’t think you’re old—I didn’t mean—”

“Enough with the flop sweat.” Jimin scoffs. “She’s 26.”

At Yeosang’s flushed frown, you just grin. “I was kidding.”

He groans, covering his face with one hand. “Don’t do that, I felt so bad.”

“He is only a year older than Joon, though, so don’t let him hear you say that.” You inform him, laughing.

“Anyway, I’m just saying, this is tame compared to that. Hobi was shipping you hardcore.” Jimin glances up, finding the tense line of Yeosang’s lips, and smirks at you. “I guess he didn’t realize you’re into younger guys.”

When you go to jab your nails into your best friend’s ribs, Yeosang intervenes.

“GOT7 is cool. We really like them. We’ve met Jackson a few times, he’s really awesome.”

Your face falls ever so slightly, and he notices.

“You don’t like Jackson?”

Hurrying to correct his assumption that you have any contempt for one of the nicest client groups you’ve ever had, you shake your head. “No, no, I’ve been a fan of Jackson’s since they started—”

“He broke her heart.” Jimin supplies helpfully.

Once again, you are left in a storm of misinformation. “No he didn’t, don’t say that. You make it sound so dramatic.”

Yeosang frowns at you. “What happened?” He’s curious, probing, but pulls back hesitantly. “I mean, you don’t have to say. Sorry, I was just wondering.”

“No, honestly, he didn’t break my heart.” You laugh. “Jimin makes it sound like I had feelings for him or something, but that’s not what happened. He came with them and he was incredibly kind and they all enjoyed our program. They were a great group.”

“She’s looked up to him for like forever.” Jimin interrupts. “She was always talking about his writing skills and how much of a gentleman he was.”

“He still is, stop making it sound like something happened.” You grumble, jostling your shoulder beneath his head.

Yeosang is only more curious. “Did he do something?”

“No!” You’re appalled by the insinuation. “No, he was a perfect client. A perfect gentleman.” You glare at Jimin.

“Yeah, he spent all night protecting Sugar’s character and making her all star struck—”

“Jimin, shut up.”

“And then once the program was over and we were all having a celebratory dinner to thank them and send them off, he turns to her and tells her he can’t stand introverts.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, groaning. “Oh my god, Jimin, you’re the only one who cares about this.”

“Yeah, like you didn’t shut down like he stabbed you in the chest. Remember what he said to you? ‘It’s like there’s nobody there. It’s like talking to a wall.’” He leans over you to peer at Yeosang, who still looks disquieted by the conversation. “She stopped talking about his media appearances. Next time I went to her apartment, she’d put away all of her GOT7 albums and PCs. I later learned that she sold them. Imagine a career professional in the field of entertaining kpop groups selling her albums from one of our biggest contracts.”

“Jimin,” your tone is low, warning. It had been a disheartening moment, to spend your entire adult life being an involved fan of an idol and then to finally meet him and spend a thrilling program with him, only for him to end the evening by telling you personally that he hates your most fundamental trait.

But you hadn’t been in love with him. You hadn’t even had a crush on him. He’d been an inspiration for your work, and a motivation to get your team to a high enough ranking to attract his group, but he hadn’t broken your heart. And yeah, you had sold his albums and inclusions, and the interaction had made that choice easier, but you’d needed to pay your rent that month.

You’d had to sell something.

Avoiding both of their eyes, you fix a long suffering smile on your face. “The entire group was professional and polite, and they gave us a flawless program experience. And Jackson was exactly the way he seems to fans. It was an awesome experience.”

“She deflated like a fucking balloon.” Jimin grumbles. “I still don’t know how he could spend the entire night with you, giving you all that airbrushed fan service, and then turn around and basically tell you he hates you. Bastard.”

“Oh my god, Jimin, he didn’t. He’s the most extroverted person we’ve ever met; obviously he jives the most with other extroverts.”

“You liked him?” Yeosang wonders.

“No!” God, your night has somehow gotten worse. “No, I didn’t like him. Like Jimin said, I look up to him as a creative professional. But I never liked him and he didn’t break my heart. That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re telling me that you going from being ecstatic about a successful program, the way you’re always giddy about a client group enjoying the work you write during an unhealthy amount of all-nighters, to leaving the restaurant and riding home in utter silence wasn’t you getting your soul crushed.”

“I’m an introvert.” You retort. “We’re quiet people.”

“Not about your passion.” He gripes. “You turn into a fucking five year old hopped up on sugar when it comes to your programs, but that night you looked like your dog died. Broke my fucking heart. I could have strangled him.”

“Jesus, Jimin, he’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Why are you talking about him like he’s your arch enemy?” This isn’t the first time you’ve heard Jimin complain about the discouraging interaction, but he’s never been so pissed about it.

You had no idea he’d gotten so fired up on your behalf about it.

“Because he insulted a foundational part of you.” Yeosang answers carefully. “I also hold Jackson in high regard, and I’ve always respected him, so I get what you’re saying. I’m sure he wasn’t trying to be a dick. But I would have been pissed too.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yeah. See? If Yeo had been there he would have helped me beat the crap out of him.”

That makes you laugh. “Jimin. Yeosang is also an introvert. He’s bothered because he would have been included in the remark too.” The idea of your best friend and this very popular public figure attacking another international superstar over a silly comment strikes you as hilarious.

“No, I just don’t understand how he could have seen you work and act and play out one of your stories and still say something like that to you.” Yeosang returns simply.

“I’m an actor.” You can’t believe you’re even talking about this right now. “He probably didn’t even know I’m terminally introverted.”

“Exactly.” Jimin throws his hands up.

“Yeah, exactly. Even if he didn’t know you’re an introvert, he talked to you like you have some kind of personality disorder that he couldn’t even realize you had.”

“Alright, whatever. It wasn’t even a big deal. I was tired. I wanted to go to bed. You know how exhausting our programs are?” You sigh, hoping you’ve finally grasped control of the subject. “Don’t meet your heroes.”

“I say fuck him.” Jimin.

“That would be counterproductive.” You say cheekily.

“Enough about him. I can’t believe you have an idol right in front of you and you’re talking about some other guy.” Yeosang chides playfully.

Your jaw drops. “I’m not the one who brought it up.”

“Forget about him. I hope you sold all of your albums. You’re an Atiny now. I’m the only idol you need.”

While Jimin chortles with laughter, lurching off of you entirely with the force of his mirth, you whirl on Yeosang and jab at his ribs. You’re both stunned and thrilled to find him jerking away from your fingers, launching himself off the desk in a flurry of low giggles.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “He’s ticklish.”

“Nope!” Jimin stops laughing immediately. “No tickling. No touching. No physical flirting. I’m still here. I don’t want to puke right now, so knock it off.”

You ignore him, still staring at Yeosang in evil delight. “Come back here; don’t walk away from me.”

He’s clutching his ribs, lips spread wide in toothy laughter, shocked by your rush of confidence. “I don’t want to.”

“Please, god, don’t do this.” Jimin groans.

“You’re gonna be all smug and haughty—‘I’m the only idol you need’—who raised you? Get back here.” You beckon him back to your desk, finally enjoying being at the giving end of the teasing.

“Christ, kill me now.” Jimin grumbles.

The singer just shakes his head and scoots farther away. “No, I don’t want to.”

“Yeosang,” You lift one eyebrow.

“This is new,” he laughs. “I like this; why are you mad at me?”

You’re not mad and he knows it, but you’ll be damned if you just sit there and take their teasing in silence.

“Listen to your Noona, Kang Yeosang, before she drags you back here by your ear. You should see her put Taehyung in his place.” Jimin mutters. “Scary mother fucker.”

“Jimin, lay down and be quiet.” You hop off the desk, gaining ground on Yeosang as he stumbles back with surprised laughter, trying to hold you off. “Go on, Yeosang, keep talking. See what happens.”

He covers his ribs as you reach for him, dancing away from your fingers. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry—” he breaks off with another throaty giggle as your nails scrape his sides. “Noona, please—”

“Ha, made him call you Noona.” Jimin pumps a fist.

You’re going to have an aneurysm. “Don’t fucking start with me, Park Jimin. I am tired and in pain and I’ve had enough of your shit.” There’s no venom in your tone. You’re just happy to have a few stupid minutes with the people closest to you.

You turn a fierce look on Yeosang. “Go sit down.”

He ducks back to the desk and plants himself next to Jimin, face flushed with laughter. He stares up at you as you glare, arms crossing over your chest.

“Oh god, now I know you guys kissed. Please don’t do it again. Not in front of me, I beg of you.”

Yeosang’s mock nervous expression morphs into a smirk.

Your face heats with a flaming blush, and you can hear yourself sputtering wordlessly.

Before you can attack either of them, the intercom screeches back to life, and all joy seeps out of your body.

“Stop disabling the cameras. You are still under military control. I repeat, you are ordered to stop.”

Yeosang’s face falls.

“The gymnasium doors have been unlocked. Do not continue to attempt to escape. If you exit the school, you will be fired upon.”

In the moments that follow the intercom squealing offline, you can hear the echoing screeches of the once trapped hoard of zombies now filling the building.

Horror spurs you into action, bolting for the classroom doors as Yeosang throws himself to his feet and follows. Just as you grasp the handle and start to drag the door along its tracks, Jongho bursts into the room, panicked and panting.

“They’re out. All of them. They let them out.”

The zombies are free, and your group is spread throughout the school, whereabouts unknown, again.

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