#presumably from that he got shot recently

[daydreamerdrew]

Adventure Comics (1938) #44

[megwritesriddles]

Out of Town ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 18 - First Time. Spencer is sent to a small town police station to get some information, but doesn't expect to meet such a beautiful officer whom he connects with so easily.

Tags: Loss of virginity, Virgin!Reader, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Handjob, First meetings, Getting together, Fluff, Awkwardness, Factual inaccuracies, Autistic!Spencer, SoftDom!Spencer (ish), Briefly referenced violence, Set around season 2-3.

Word count: 5.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: It's FINALLY here!! Virgin!Reader because of this poll!! I struggled with this one so much and I don't know why, it took forever to write and it's so long and I'm not even sure I like it that much, I will come back for Spencer after kinktober and redeem myself!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Spencer didn’t believe in fate, but he believed that something close to it had brought him to that small-town police station. At first, he had complained vehemently about being sent alone to the next county over while on a case. The team were investigating an UnSub targeting very small towns, and communication between these tiny police departments was virtually non-existent. It was Spencer’s job to see if any missing persons cases in nearby counties would match the description of a recently discovered unidentifiable Jane Doe. He tried to argue, saying it was unwise to send him, the worst socialiser of the bunch, to try and negotiate information from the usually very territorial small-town cops. Unwillingness to cooperate was still rife in the culture and each department wanted to be the ones to solve the case, so information sharing was limited. However, his complaints fell on deaf ears and he was sent away, he would have never guessed how happy this would end up making him.

The first few county police departments he pops by offer nothing, no missing person cases (at least matching the necessary descriptions or timeline) and grizzled FBI-wary old cops who glared at him and commented on his ‘funny’ behaviour. Spencer’s confidence was a little shot as the day progressed. He sets off for the final department he’d be visiting that day, talking on the carphone with Morgan to find out how things were going with the rest of the investigation. He pulls up outside of a small rustic building, the smallest he’d seen all day, his only visual confirmation that he was in the right place being the rickety old sign off of which various letters were dangling. He hadn’t realised places like this even still existed, or that information-sharing programs weren’t implemented nationwide. He would have to read into that more when he got the time. The light outside his car is a deep blue as the sun prepares to set, he gets out and locks up before stepping inside. The place is absolutely tiny, with a small jail cell in the corner of the room like in a cartoon and a small desk behind which were two filing cabinets, presumably holding all the files that this place had. This whole day had been one big culture shock. The biggest surprise, however, is you, behind the desk smiling warmly. You’re young and beautiful and not immediately distrusting when he presents his FBI badge to you. All day he’s been dealing with hardened older men, so you’re a much-appreciated surprise.

“Dr Spencer Reid, FBI,” he introduces himself with an awkward tight-lipped smile. You give him your name too, referring to yourself as an officer.

“It’s not every day we get an FBI agent visiting,” you chuckle. “In fact, I would bet it has never happened before,” He smiles slightly at your observation, not doubting it, remembering seeing the population sign when driving into town. Population: 342. If an FBI agent had been here before, he would have been shocked. Perhaps because of all this, you immediately guess what he’s here for, turning to grab a file from the filing cabinet. The drawer is barely full and you find what you’re looking for instantly. Must be nice, he thinks, thinking about the cabinets back at the bullpen. You hand him a missing persons file, a young woman, missing a month ago. “It’s only our fifth missing persons case since 1900, caused an awful stir in our town, I figure it’s what you’re here for, nothing much else going on,”

“Yeah, this looks exactly like what I’m here for, thank you,” he smiles, flipping through the file. The timeline fits with the estimated time of death, and she matches the height of the body found. “May I use your copier?” he asks. You chuckle.

“Good luck,” you point him to a very old-looking machine. He cringes a little but supposes he has little other choice. He fiddles around with the machine, encountering various unexplainable errors. You come up behind him and give the machine a firm slap and it whirs to life again.

“Thanks,” he smiles awkwardly. You just nod.

“No problem,” he sets the machine to print a few copies and then sits down on a nearby chair while the ancient machine starts working. “You’ll be here a while, want a coffee?” you offer sweetly. He huffs a small laugh, fiddling with the strap of his satchel.

“Yeah… uh… lots of sugar…” he says awkwardly.

“How much is a lot?” you ask, approaching the old coffee machine. Everything in this place is old, he supposes not much budget must be extended out here to such a small uneventful place.

“Just when you think you’ve added way too much, add one more,” he mumbles, pleasantly surprised when you laugh, he laughs too. He takes in his surroundings as you make the coffee. “Do you work here alone?” he enquires.

“I have one co-worker, he does most of the patrols and stuff,” you explain while scooping spoonfuls of sugar into his cup. “It’s slightly more exciting than working here, but I suppose I get some excitement tonight, FBI agent visiting,” you smile at him over your shoulder. You’re really beautiful, Spencer thinks as he nods along to what you say, so beautiful it doesn’t quite seem possible, and he’s constantly surrounded by beautiful people. Or so he’s told anyway, most of his colleagues are very conventionally attractive, but he is more floored by you than he has ever been by one of them. He takes the coffee as you hand it to him and tastes it, pleasantly surprised by the amount of sugar. The whir of the copier continues as you sit down beside him, smiling sweetly. “You seem young for an agent,” you comment, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You seem young for an officer in a place like this,” he counters. “I’ve been visiting stations all day and only been dealing with old guys,” he jokes, once again happy when you laugh. 

“Yeah, I suppose I am, but this is my hometown, a position here opened up right after I finished college and I applied,” you shrug. “I doubt anyone else applied, so they had to take me, but I was by far the most qualified person to have ever applied here, do you know I’m the first member of this department to have ever gone to college?” you tell him with surprising eagerness. He finds it very endearing.

“I’m the first in my department with three Ph.D.s,” he smiles awkwardly. 

“Three? Wow! That’s amazing! How old are you exactly?” you tilt your head at him. He goes on to explain his story to you, his early graduations, his IQ, all of it. You seem much more interested than most people and he appreciates it greatly. The two of you talk back and forth while the copy machine slowly does its work and he finds himself liking you a lot. Of course, he had immediately noticed your looks, but he had tried not to think about it, wanting to be professional, yet after talking to you for a while, he found he had a great deal in common with you. Or, at least, he found your interests interesting, as you did his. So, by the time the copying is done and he’s gathering up the papers, he makes a decision. 

He’s never been the most confident with women, far from it in fact, but lately, he’s been feeling a little more secure. His brief stint with Lila Archer, while a little regrettable with hindsight, had left him feeling better about himself and his romantic prospects. He’d done a little exploring after realising that he and Lila really had nothing in common to base a relationship on, and was now no longer so inexperienced with women, though he still had a lot of trouble with finding someone he was compatible with for more than just something physical. He had difficulties that made a relationship with him hard, and while he had never intended for any one-night stands, most girls had backed out after spending a little longer with him. They’d been polite about it, explaining that they didn’t have the faculties to support him through struggles with his career, with his autism, with his mother and he understood, but it still hurt. He was determined not to let it put him off though, not wanting to squander his newfound confidence. He liked you. He’d mentioned his autism to you in passing when discussing being bullied as a child (why had he even told you about that? It seemed like he’d just let everything out), and you had said he hadn’t deserved that. It didn’t mean you would be able to handle him in a relationship, but it was one step closer to possible acceptance. You’d been smiling and laughing with him all evening, giving him these sweet looks and he was no expert in this field, but it seemed like you liked him. He couldn’t not do something about this attraction, he would never forgive himself if he’d had a chance and not taken it.

He leaves his name and number along with the words ‘I would love to see you again’, written neatly on a piece of paper from his notepad, on your desk, right by your bag where he hopes you will see it. He’s fidgety when he says goodbye to you, anxious that this may be the last time he ever sees you. He hopes not. He even hugs you goodbye, which he would usually hate, but for once it feels nice and comforting. You smell perfect, like warm spices, and he holds you way too tight for a friendly goodbye hug, but you say nothing about it. He prays that you will find his number and contact him, even if just to shoot him down so he doesn’t have to wonder forever. He drives back to the hotel that the team is staying in with his head spinning. He really, really liked you, and he wasn’t sure how these feelings had grown so strong so quickly, he wasn’t usually like this.

That night, while reading in his hotel bed, his phone rings. He doesn’t recognise the number, and though his line of work has taught him to be wary of unknown callers, the chance that it’s you overrides this worry and he picks up quickly. It is you. He can’t help but grin with delight as he hears your sweet voice.

“Spencer?” you question softly.

“Hey,” he laughs excitedly. “You called,” you laugh too, surprised by how overjoyed he sounds.

“Yeah, I figured I should since it could be a while until you go through your satchel,”

“My satchel?” he chuckles in confusion, leaning over the edge of the bed to root through his bag. There, on a pink sticky note, is your number and a cute little smiley face. You gave him your number too, you wanted to stay in touch too. He’s over the moon right now. He traces his fingertips over the little smiley face. “You’re too cute,” he mumbles. You blush on the other end and laugh him off. “How was your… uh… drive home?” he asks. He’s never been good at starting conversations, usually best at taking them over and finishing them, but for once, he wants to know the mundane things about someone, as well as the deep and intellectual, he wants to hear you talk. He’s glad when you start to talk about your day, going on a few tangents about this and that. He does the same, feeling so incomparably comfortable with you like he’s known you forever, like he can just talk without worrying about coming off weird or annoying. He can only hope the feeling isn’t only in his head and he isn’t actually annoying you. He doesn’t seem to be, as the conversation occasionally turns rather flirty, and he finds it much easier to flirt with you than anyone else he’s ever tried it with. The way you flirt, sweet and coy, drives him crazy. You talk until way too late at night, given the time Spencer has to wake up for work, but he can barely bring himself to hang up on you, even when the both of you are yawning incessantly. He’s never felt this way about anyone. People always say, when you know, you know, and he’s always thought that was ridiculous but now… he knows. 

“Look, I’m supposed to be at the station in four hours, I really need to get to sleep,” you yawn. Spencer sighs, disappointed but understanding.

“Okay, but… maybe we could see each other again while I’m still in the area? You could come to my hotel tomorr– I mean tonight I guess,” he chuckles tiredly. “Drinks on me, or no drinks… that’s good too,” the question is followed by complete silence, and initially, Spencer is sure you must have fallen asleep, but then he hears you shuffling and realises you must be awake. He frowns. Why aren’t you answering him? You’d spent hours on the phone with him just now, you must like him at least a little bit, right? Could he have read this that disastrously wrong? If you didn’t want to, you could have lied and said you were busy. What gives? He repeats your name into the receiver, prompting softly. 

“I’m a virgin, Spencer,” you reply quietly, biting your lip. You feel embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting this, especially so early, but you figure there would be certain expectations if you came to his hotel, ones you couldn’t really fulfil, or at least not in the way he probably wanted.

“What?” Spencer squeaks, confused by your words for a multitude of reasons and unsure why you’re saying them now. You worry you’ve scared him off now.

“I grew up in a really small town, there’s like two guys close to my age in the whole place… and in college… I was a huge nerd, just focused on my studies… and now I’m back in that town… it just… hasn’t happened for me,” you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your pyjama shirt. There’s another pause, Spencer swallowing audibly.

“That’s totally cool! Really! I didn’t mean to imply that we’d be... uh… I mean… not that I don’t want to, I’d hardly be opposed to us… um… but I’m not going to– I was a virgin until last year too!” he stumbles nervously over his words, cursing himself for his awkwardness. He rubs a hand over his forehead and takes a deep breath. “I didn’t invite you here for that, we can do whatever you like, at whatever pace you like, don’t feel pressured into anything,”

“I just made this completely awkward, didn’t I?” you laugh self-deprecatingly. He smiles slightly.

“No, no, please I… I know what guys are like, you weren’t unreasonable to assume my intentions but… I just want to see you again, whatever we do,” he assures softly, relieved he hasn’t messed this up. 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll come visit you after my shift is over, text me the address,”

The two of you finally hang up after a nervous goodbye, and Spencer immediately sends you the address of the hotel before he can forget about it, not that he could if he tried, even without the eidetic memory. He’s tired enough that he falls straight asleep afterwards, using what little sleep he has to dream of you.

The workday goes by in a trance. The Jane Doe is identified as the missing girl from your town. Despite this, the case is no closer to getting solved. Selfishly, he is glad of this, as it means he’s likely to stay near you a little longer. He brushes away that thought, immediately ashamed of himself. He tries his best to push you from his mind to focus on his work, but you invade it in the quiet moments. He’s never been so excited to spend time with someone in his life. He thinks occasionally about your confession. A virgin. He’s partly shocked, you’re so beautiful, sweet and intelligent, however, your explanation had made sense. He understood the focus on your studies, while most people took college as an opportunity to have fun, you’d dedicated yourself entirely to your academia. He imagined though, that if you had decided to experiment, you would have had no trouble finding willing partners. By the end of the day, he is in such a rush to get back to the hotel that it rouses the team's suspicions. They don’t know about you though, so they can’t guess the truth. They figure he’s just aching for his own space like he sometimes is after stressful workdays, needing a dark quiet room to regulate himself in. He disappears into his room without any goodbyes, having received a text from you that you’re on your way. He spritzes himself with some fresh cologne, brushing his hair and making sure he’s dressed nicely, but not too formally, so he looks approachable.

He sprints down to the lobby to meet you, relieved none of his team is hanging around the bar to see the two of you. He does not want you to meet Morgan so early on. He embraces you, a little awkwardly, relishing that sweet but spicy scent that you have around you. You’ve taken the time to change out of your police uniform and into more casual, but still very enchanting clothes. He wishes he’d have had time to change too. You look absolutely gorgeous, but he’s not sure if he should tell you as such yet.

“A drink? On me, alcoholic, non-alcoholic, whatever you prefer! I’m personally not a drinker, but I don’t mind if you do,” he rambles, smiling excitedly down at you. You follow him to the bar, ordering a mocktail from the bartender. Spencer orders himself the same one, paying for them both. The two of you are quiet as you wait, both nervous. Spencer smiles dopily as you let him keep a hand on your back, the warm pressure calming you in some way. The bartender brings you your drinks and you take yours with a soft thank you, then the two of you go silent again.

“Are we going to your room?” you ask quietly. Spencer blushes a little at the thought but reminds himself that he’s not expecting anything out of this other than your presence. He nods, gently guiding you by the hand on your back to the elevators. The two of you are quiet in the elevator as it goes up, save for the occasional sip. You reach his floor and then the door to his room. He presents his keycard and the door swings open, revealing a modest but clean hotel room. You take a seat on the edge of his bed, and he takes a seat on the armchair nearby. You’re both quiet again. “We’re both nervous, aren’t we?” you chuckle. He laughs too, nodding, finding it sweet that you’re nervous too, being used to always being the nervous one. “Come on, we weren’t this quiet last night, tell me more about Vegas,” you prompt, hoping to rid yourself of this oppressive silence that makes your mind wander over his tall frame, his sweet eyes and the way his hand had felt on your back. 

He starts slowly, not initially sure what to tell you about, but gradually talks more comfortably as you ask questions. After a little while, the two of you fall into easy conversation once more. He finds you intelligent and well-rounded, even if you’re not as well-studied as he is, you effortlessly keep up with his discussion. You explain that you have lots of time to read in the police station as barely anything ever happens that demands your attention. He finds your willingness to learn on a variety of different topics incredibly attractive and whenever you’re able to tell him a fact that he doesn’t know, he just wants you all the more. Once he’s finished his drink (a fruity sweet drink he quite liked), he comes to sit beside you. He doesn’t necessarily mean anything by it but quickly realises that you think he does. You go pink and start to stutter, looking down at the ground. He swallows. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t– I just wanted to–” 

“Are we going to have sex?” you cut him off, looking up at him nervously. He feels trapped, not knowing what the right answer to this is. 

“We… don’t have to,” he replies, not wanting to imply disinterest but also not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Would you? I mean… it’s not off-putting that I’m a virgin at my age?” you ask, looking down again and swinging your feet slightly. 

“No! No! Trust me, it’s completely fine, I was a virgin until last year, I completely get it,” he assures, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Really? The handsome FBI man, a virgin?” you tease, nudging him. He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“No need to flatter me… and no matter what I look like, my… uh…” he hesitates to bring it up again in case you missed it the first time and it’ll scare you off. “My autism makes stuff like that hard, very hard, so… I can hardly judge you,” he watches your face for a reaction, but you just nod in understanding. He’s so relieved that he could kiss you. He looks at you for a moment and then decides to do just that. He leans in slowly, so you have time to push him away if the thought of kissing him disgusts you, and presses his lips to yours. He kisses you softly for a moment, sliding his hand around your waist and tugging you a little closer. Your hands settle onto his shoulders, your head tilting to press a little closer to him. He smiles into the kiss and you smile too.

He keeps it gentle and slow, carefully manoeuvring you sideways onto his lap so he doesn’t have to lean his neck down so much to kiss you. He rests his hand just above your knee, keeping you held in place, his other hand on your back. Your hands on his shoulders slide softly around his neck, now embracing him to keep him close and comfortable. His thumb rubs back and forth on your back, his hand splayed out, keeping you pressed close. He likes this, you’re gentle, you smell good and the weight of you is comforting in his lap. He shuffles back clumsily, holding you close and upright until his back is against the headboard. He continues to kiss you, his hand smoothing up and down the outside of your thigh. You pull back and he frowns, though his hands don’t stop their gentle caresses. 

“Please, be gentle with me,” you whisper shyly, your pupils wide in the dim light.

“Of course I will be,” he whispers, his hand on your thigh coming up to caress your cheek tenderly, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. “So… we’re doing this then? You’re letting me…?”

“Yes, it’s about time, right? And… I know we haven’t known each other long but I trust you,” you smile, leaning into his hand. He smiles too.

“When you know, you know,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you exhale. These words speak of something much deeper, feelings that would be crazy to voice so soon after meeting, but feelings that are shared anyway, just covertly. Somehow, even if it’s crazy, you both know. He gently pulls your face back to his, kissing you again, keeping it tender. His hand on your cheek caresses for a little while longer before returning to your thigh, further up now, closer to the tantalising swell of your hip. He rubs slow circles, enjoying the feeling of you, wishing he was touching bare skin. He pulls back, peppering a few kisses across your jaw. 

“May I see you?”

“See me?” you question anxiously. He soothes you by rubbing your back.

“To take off your clothes?” he clarifies. You shiver and suddenly look very shy again. “Hey, I will think you’re beautiful no matter what you look like,” he promises. “You’re so beautiful, it’s plain to see,” you still look nervous and don’t make any moves. “We can’t really do this with clothes on,” he jokes softly, squeezing the plush of your thigh. You smile despite your reservations.

“But you have to get naked too,” you assert, trying not to let your voice shake.

“Of course,” he agrees. He gently moves you off of his lap and sheds his sweater vest, then unbuttons his shirt, not letting his insecurities get to him so that he can reassure you. He’s sure he has much more to worry about than you do, but if he got nervous, it wouldn’t help your nerves. He discards his shirt and sits there shirtless, feeling better when you smile at him. You slowly but surely pull your sweater over your head, leaving you in a plain black bra. Your cheeks are flushed and he finds it incredibly sweet. He places a hand on your bare waist, kissing your shoulder before carefully unhooking your bra for you. You take shaky breaths, clearly nervous as he turns you around to look at you. He is immediately baffled by how you could be so insecure looking the way you do. He smiles down at you. “Very beautiful,” he soothes, kissing your neck gently. “I’d love to worship them, but I think we should speed this up before you overthink it too much,”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, shivering as his hands skim over your bare skin. 

“No, I was a nervous wreck my first time, you’re doing way better than I was,” he promises, and it’s true. He briefly feels bad for the woman he lost his virginity to but pushes the thought away to focus on this much better experience. He tilts your chin, pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you softly. His hands slowly explore your skin, cupping gently. You’re warm and weighty in his hands and he loves the feeling, squeezing softly. You moan into the kiss and he delights in it completely. He gives one last slight squeeze to you before pulling back again. “If you let me, I’ll explore you thoroughly later, I quite like to understand exactly how things work inside and out,” you swallow and nod. He stands, carefully unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them down. Your eyes immediately flick to the bulge in his boxers and he’s momentarily embarrassed until he realises you seem happy to see it. “That’s what your beauty does to me,” he whispers, making you giggle shyly. He smiles, and then slowly, a little apprehensive, he lowers his boxers too. Your eyes are glued to him in interest.

“Can you sit down?” you ask softly. He complies. You lower your jeans, leaving yourself in your underwear for now and he admires the skin of your thighs and the beautiful curve of your hips. You carefully wrap your hand around him and he gasps in surprise. “May I?” you ask, examining him a little as he twitches in your hand.

“Y-yeah, absolutely, go ahead,” he swallows, letting out a throaty groan as you slide your hand up and down in the way you’ve heard about. He seems to like it. You watch his face as you adjust your hold, figuring out what's too loose and what's too tight until you find the perfect grip. He smiles a little at your analytical approach, tilting your chin so he can kiss you while you slowly stroke him. One of his arms wraps around you, the other propping him up. He kisses you intently as you carefully experiment with how to touch him. It’s an odd sensation, holding him in your hand like this, but you find you quite like it. You kiss and caress him for a few minutes, finally falling into a rhythm he clearly enjoys based on the soft noises he’s letting out before he stops you. You pout a little as he moves your hand away by the wrist. “Sorry, but I was getting too close and we haven’t… you know…” he smiles, kissing your jaw again. 

“Right,” you swallow as he starts to guide you back with him again until he’s against the headboard. He traces the sides of your panties softly. 

“Come on, you can take these off, I promise I will like whatever I see,” he assures. You take a deep breath and then shuffle yourself out of your panties. You’re shy, no one has ever seen you like this before. He smiles, gently massaging the flesh of your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. You shuffle forward, your face red with embarrassment. He kisses your cheeks and carefully slides his hand down your stomach, giving you time to tell him to stop, before slipping his finger between your folds, rubbing softly up and down. He hums, feeling that you’re nice and wet. His fingers make you moan timidly and you close your eyes as his fingers gently explore. His free hand rubs your side soothing as he ever so carefully begins to slip a finger inside you. You moan, your head tipping back as his finger reaches further than your own ever have. “Another place to explore thoroughly later,” he says matter-of-factly as if the thought isn’t incredibly arousing. He spends a few minutes carefully stretching you out, easing in a second finger and pumping them in and out with great care. He watches as you moan and writhe above him and thinks that you look simply irresistible right now, leaning down and placing a few kisses on your stomach until he thinks you’re finally ready. 

He slowly withdraws his fingers, which makes your eyes flutter back open to meet his. He leans up to peck your lips and then guides your hips a little until you’re above him, then positioning his cock against you, making both of you hiss a little. The head of his cock catches your entrance and he takes a deep breath.

“There, you can set the pace, okay? Lower down as slow as you like,” he smiles, free hand still rubbing your side soothingly. You nod, taking a few laboured breaths before slowly starting to lower yourself onto him. You gasp at the stretch, even though it’s not too painful, stopping and starting as you lower yourself. He holds your hips with a feather-light touch, careful not to push you at all, holding himself back from bucking into your tight heat. His eyes are glued to your face as your lips part in pleasure. You fully seat yourself on him and sit there for a while, catching your breath and getting used to the feeling. He twitches inside you and he hopes you don’t mind the feeling as he cannot get it under control. His hands drift up and down your sides. “How is it?”

“Yeah, ah… I feel full…” you whine softly.

“In a good way?”

“In the best way, I’m going to feel empty the rest of my life after this,” you laugh slightly. He laughs too, although the words are oddly moving to him. His thumbs rub your hips.

“Want me to guide the pace?” he asks softly, eyes glued on yours despite his usual aversions.

“Y-yeah, that would be good,” you nod, sighing softly as he begins to carefully lift your hips. You hold his shoulders as he moves you slowly up and down his length. He groans and bites his lip under you, moving you a little faster, making sure to listen out to make sure you’re feeling pleasure from his pace. You feel perfect around him, absolutely blissful, and he hopes beyond hope that you feel the same. He tugs you down to kiss you, holding you still as he starts to buck up into you. Your lips move together messily as he fucks up into you, careful to keep it from being too hard. He rubs your back as he kisses you.

“Do you feel good?”

“So good…” you whimper, trailing off into a string of moans. He loves the sound of you, wishing his eidetic memory worked on sounds so he could remember the way you sound forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible as he fills your body with pleasure, fucking you nice and deep. You whisper fragmented compliments to him as he drives you closer and closer to the edge, holding you close and kissing you desperately. “I’m going to– oh God–,” you moan needily, he groans in response, moving faster. 

“Yeah, come on, I’m with you,” he grunts, squeezing you closer to his body. With a few more deep thrusts, he feels you falling apart around him, making him whimper. He kisses you lovingly as stars explode behind his eyes, his mouth parting with throaty noises as he spills inside you. His chest heaves, his hands sliding up and down your body in a calming gesture as you both come down. He gently lifts you off of him and lies you down beside him on the bed, watching as you wipe the sweat from your brow. He hops up without a word and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you a little nervous and confused. When he reappears, you calm down, realising he’s just holding a damp cloth. He spreads your legs, making you blush despite what you’ve just done and wipes you clean with careful precision. 

“Thanks,” you whisper. 

“Well, it was my mess after all,” he smiles, taking the cloth back to the bathroom and rinsing it. He joins you back on the bed, staring at you for a moment. “Was that okay? You don’t regret it do you?” 

“Yes, it was good, I don’t regret it,” you assure him, leaning into his as he kisses your cheek.

“Good, neither do I,” he lies beside you, pulling the blanket over the two of you and reaching over to caress your cheek. His thumb skims your lower lip. “Now, get a little rest, I intend to fully acquaint myself with your body in a bit, and I can be very thorough with things that interest me,”

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xoxoxo

[rallamajoop]

That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

[skyewritesstuff]

greedy | p. mellark

my masterlist.

summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.

notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.8k

He’s here. Are you coming?

You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”. 

Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.

Is she here?

The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.

However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.

You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.

A typing bubble appeared in Clove’s thread.

I don’t think so!

You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.

“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.

“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?” 

You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”

“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”

“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.

“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.

“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”

“What?”

The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?

You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone. 

You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.

“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”

You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.

“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”

“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”

“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.

Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”

You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance. 

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”

“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.

He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.

Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.

Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.

“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.

“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs. 

Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”

“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”

Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”

He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.

You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.

“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.” 

You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.

When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.” 

It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations…as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.

The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.

“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.

“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.

Baby.

Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”

His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”

You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.

The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Did I do something?” 

You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.

You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”

“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.

“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.

“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”

“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.

You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”

His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.

“As you wish, girlfriend.”

His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.

The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.

Where are you?

Hello?

Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Heya! Might I request something with a touch-starved Adam? That man definitely yearns for some genuine affection underneath all the “og dick” persona!! Thank you!

Touch-Starved Adam

Adam x GN! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, Fluffy

Request box: Open

Word Count: 1014

A/n: Thanks for the request! I’m so sorry for such an embarrassingly long time it took, I hope you enjoy! Sorry!!!

This man is 100% the most touched starved Angel in heaven. and he doesn’t even know it.

He knows he feels a constant absence when around people, especially when he’s alone. Genuine affection is just not something he has a lot of. Any winner who meets him sees him as an idol (How could they fucking not -Adam probably), any sexual partners only want just that, sex. Which, don’t get him wrong he LOVES sex but it’s just not the same.

The closest he gets to genuine casual affection is Lute who is, to be completely honest, ALSO touch starved so she rarely initiates any contact herself. But Adam loves any form of casual physical contact from her, fist bumps, putting their hands on each other's shoulder, whenever they shush each other. Adam may pretend to hate it but that little bit of contact has been keeping this man going for these countless years.

This is where you come in. You were a recent human soul to ascend to heaven. You had tried to do your best on earth and this was your reward for good deeds. You was a little shocked, not expecting you’d have been the best during life, but hey! You’re here now so, Yay!

Your excitement lasted a total of 5 minutes before you were crushed under the heels of near 20+ winners screaming something about “it’s him!”, only stopping once your halo was thoroughly crushed.

You picked yourself off the ground and dusted yourself off. You move your neck and pain shot through,

‘Yep, that’s gonna bruise’ you thought before turning your attention back to the crazed fangirl stampede in front of you. Over all the screaming and ogling, you heard a particular name that caught your attention, Adam. You walk over to the crowd, moving past the people. On the other side you see a tall man in white robes and a LED mask. He greeted the fans, took pictures, even signing some people’s… parts that you had rather not have seen. Eventually the crowd dispersed after getting what they wanted from him and leaving you alone with the tall Angel.

You weren’t really sure what you were even doing standing in the crowd in the first place but you were enamored by the man.

“Hey! What are you fuckin’ staring off to space for” the man, Adam you presume, yelled, now right in front of you. “What do you want? Photo? Autograph? Where do you want me to sign?”

You looked sheepishly at him before answering “oh sorry I’m- I’m not with them. I actually have no idea who you are… sorry”

Adam blinked confused before a wicked smile “oh I see well, behold your fuxking eyes, cause I’m the Adam!” He pauses for dramatic effect waiting for the excited reaction he often got only to be met with a confusing silence.

“Who?”

He scoffs “who?! You know, Adam, The original dick? The one that banged a chick a couple times and populated the beginning of humanity. Adam, ring any bells??”

“Sorry I’m not big on politics-“

Adam looked at you with both frustration and intrigue. It’s incredibly rare to meet a soul in heaven to not know who he is, let alone just not know him at all. This caught his attention though. He put his hand on your shoulder and asked to show you around to which you hesitantly agreed to.

The fact you didn’t know about his status as the first man really intrigued him. Which led to him asking you out (albeit with a lot of swearing and dodging the main question he wanted to ask) but ever since you caught on to it, you accepted his offer and you’ve both been together ever since.

Adam always initiated contact with you as much as he could. The feeling of closeness it brought made him much more happy than he would want to admit. But what really makes him happy is when you suddenly touch him without warning.

Considering he has gone most of his life without affectionate touches, his body has grown to be quite sensitive and ticklish, which he hates to admit. But it was the truth. He especially gets embarrassed when you accidentally touch his arm and he jumps, but ends up missing that slightest touch once it’s gone.

Once you found this out you made sure to give him plenty of physical contact. Regular hugs, holding hands, and eventually when he was comfortable enough, you would hold his face when he took his mask off.

That last one was the one that made him feel the most happy. Cause it solidifies your love for him. You both get look at AND get to touch the least observed part of his body than any other has.

Sometimes, after a long day of heavenly duties, all Adam wants is to go home and have you hold him, mask off. Just let you caress his face, give him a light massage as he tells you about his shitty day.

-

Your hands gently squeezed the flesh of his biceps, putting just enough pressure to make the aching muscles go numb with relief. The unmasked man’s face rest against your chest, getting comfortable by the second, his voice revealing the tension now leaving his body.

You continue putting your firm touch to a particular spot on Adam’s shoulder, feeling the knot slowly go away with each kneed of your fingers. Before moving down to the area between where his wings connect to his back.

“Fuxk- right there!”

You smile, putting pressure and massaging the area between his wings. The noises Adam was making could make someone assume some.. unholy things were being conducted. But it didn’t matter what others think.

Once you finished the massage you gave Adam a tap on the shoulder and he scooted up to the headboard , picking you up in his arms, cornering you both in his now tension-free wings like a blanket. You give him a kiss on the cheek before falling asleep in each others arms.

[star2fishmeg]

ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ

[3.3k]

Pairing: Song Mingi x afab!reader

Summary: mingi and y/n discover that you can still relight candles once the flame flickers out...even at sweaty crummy fratty parties

Warnings: 18+ smut, university!au, fratboy!Mingi, angst, comfort, inaccurate frat description probs, exes to lovers, happy end, drugs (weed), alcohol, mingi and reader are in their 20s, making out, grinding, thigh riding, swearing

Authors Note: I remembered I never posted this fic from Oct '23 so here's the last mingi fic for a while. Ngl if one half of this is better than the other it's bc the first half was written last year. This is a work of fiction, the activities involved are fictional and none of what the boys are doing is real or based on real events.

Request: none!

♫ party monster - the weeknd

It wasn’t her first time attending one of the boys’ parties, she’d been going since they joined the university. It was never any different though, the same music, the same games, rarely any new faces but when you’ve got alcohol in your system you never notice anyway. She completely understood why people loved the parties though, after a week of uni it was the one place for some people to escape to an entirely different world, each room had its vibe and you just gravitated to yours. Or chameleon through them all, which is what she did with her friends because they liked to make the most of a potentially messy night.

Getting into the parties was the hard part, they were picky due to their seniors mentoring. You had to be directly invited, and luckily, she was. Growing up with Yunho and Mingi wasn’t so bad after all, they were the ones to thank for the inclusion, but she got on with the others just as well.

Y/n sat outside in one of the plastic garden chairs, also known as Yeosang’s smoke circle. Yeosang was serenity in human form, his personality was on the quieter side, and he’d recently dyed his hair a neon green after losing a bet but looks could be deceiving, he had a notorious streak for coming out with the most outrageous sentences and shots targeted at Wooyoung. Despite his company, she hadn’t taken a drag of anything. It’s not that y/n disliked the vibe, she very much cherished it, despite the face of thunder she donned at that moment, swirling the booze in her cup. Hand rested under chin, elbow on her knee while this girl she – and the others – had never seen before in her life complained about the noise and smell protruding from the house. The girl being oblivious to the side-eyes, and the sweet aroma of weed and suffocating fumes of cigarettes indicated that none of them were listening to anything she was rambling on about. Yeosang took a heavy drag from his joint, giving y/n a pained look.

“If you hate it so much, fucking leave.” She spat, throwing the rest of her drink over her before walking inside, listening to the circle giggle and the girl yell out ‘bitch!’.

Sliding the back door open and stepping in, her senses were violently hit by the living room’s blaring music, which she liked to call the club zone. It’s where the speakers were located, sofas moved to the sides to create a dance floor and where you’d find Wooyoung and Mingi bouncing around in the ambient lighting. That room moved in slow motion, and very much did for y/n when she weaved her way through it to the kitchen, which was quieter, with an orange lowlight and the island littered with cups and various bottles and pleasantly, a Yunho blissfully pouring himself another cup of beer with rosy cheeks.

“Hey, n/n!” he piped, taking a sip from his cup before leaning his hip against the counter, “You okay?”

She nodded with a small smile, standing next to him, “Refilling. Threw mine over sourpuss over there.” She pointed out the kitchen window, to the girl who had moved from Yeosang to another group of people, presumably still complaining but now about the fact y/n had thrown cider over her. Yunho chuckled, it being contagious until both were releasing tipsy giggles while sipping fresh drinks. Yunho was tall, reaching over six feet and loomed over her, his eyes almost puppy-like and soft.

“Never seen her before, and neither I nor Mingi invited her, and going by Yeo’s face, he didn’t.” He joked, watching the rest of the people outside.

“Nah, Yeo didn’t. He wanted me to get rid of her. You think San or Woo did? Joong’s definitely out of the picture, I’ve seen him actively avoid her. Speaking of, where is Joong?”

Yunho pointed to the games room, which you could just about see from the kitchen window. It was more like an old garage they’d turned into a games room with a singular window. From where they stood, Jongho’s figure moved past it.

“In there with Jongho. Mr. I-won’t-drink-tonight pre’d too hard and got roped into beer pong from the beginning. Jongho’s being relentless, it’s nice seeing him have fun.”

“Yeah, and fucking hilarious seeing Joong on the ropes. Thank God it’s Sunday he’ll be hungover on.”

In what was supposed to be a quick refill turned into shots with Yunho and because of that decision, y/n found herself being twirled by him on the ‘dance floor’. The living room was always hot, sweaty, drunk bodies bumping and grinding into each other, music so loud her ears just blocked it into a silence, and it was just her in the moment, in another headspace with whatever drink flowing in her system. Her friends were long gone, which was fine, they’d been in that house before, they knew most of the people there and had their ‘if lost go here’ areas. Besides, Yunho wouldn’t let anything happen to y/n, they had a solid friendship, a siblingship at most.

Eyes bored into the back of her head, she felt the presence too well, it was too familiar. Mingi, slouched on one of the sofas with his legs spread and eyes squinting a primal gaze, watching her every move. His hands loosely sat on his thighs, as if he was giving the memo that he was not anyone’s seat, not that he ever sat down enough for girls to drape themselves over him. But this time he sat to watch.

Yunho leant into her ear, “I’m gonna spin us, I can feel daggers into my soul right now.” And he did casually, twirling her again to switch places. Y/n’s eyes briefly fell into Mingi’s trap, a couple of seconds feeling like an eternity again when falling into his eyes. She missed it. Missed the butterflies of drowning in someone, getting lost peacefully, and having someone feel so passionate about her.

“Yunho, what do I do? He’s getting up, it’s been so long-“ she stammered, eyes widening upon catching a glance of Mingi weaving through the crowd, ignoring everyone who tried taking his attention with the gaze of a predator hunting its prey. Yunho giggled, slipping away.

For a split second, she was alone, watching the room sway around her and a white noise fill her ears, body numb as the world fell into slow motion. The way he moved with his confidence, chest out and eyesight on her, no smile. Cheap disco lights doing him too much justice, the blue haze bouncing off his cheekbones, a soft glint in his eyes and sparkle bouncing off the chain that sat sound on his collarbone. Y/n’s eyes flickered his stature, up and down, from his t-shirt that wrapped snug around his chest down to his jeans that hung off his hips in a way that shouldn’t have flipped her stomach the way it did. She swallowed, a thumping in her chest and head still in a slow pace until her hips were firmly gripped in large palms, hot breath in her space and his eyes softening as they caught hers. As if by default, she placed her hands on his chest – intimate but cautious and prepared to reject him – and his lips found their way to her ear.

“You still light up the room.” His voice was deeper than the last time he’d whispered his sins in her ears. Not a nibble, not a kiss, no unasked-for contact. Just like back then. Just two bodies swaying in a rhythm in comfort.

“Were you jealous?”

“…maybe. Haven’t seen you in a while, thought you were avoiding me. Then I see you cosied up with my best friend, what man wouldn’t be?”

“And why would I avoid you?” Her questions lingered in the thick air. Tingles ran through her nerves as Mingi’s thumbs traced small circles over the fabric of her shorts, his favourite denim shorts that sent him back to adolescent afternoons in the summer, where they drank cheap beer at family barbecues. One hand slid itself over the curve of her spine until it drew itself away and cupped her jaw gently, holding her like his precious treasure, like she was his again. Nuzzling into his palm, she looped one finger under his necklace, toying with it until their eyes met once again. Mingi’s breath hitched, air knocked from his lungs under the familiarity of the gesture.

“Come, I want you to myself tonight.” The rumble of his voice vibrated her fingertips, flushing heat down her body and hitting her pussy all over again. His voice was too sexy to think straight, the determination that ran through his eyes bringing back a reason why she loved him in the first place. Y/n nodded, taking his hand on her cheek into her own and letting the man guide her through the bodies and towards the staircase.

People go through phases as they grow older, but the way Mingi’s room still had his favourite music producer’s posters stuck over his walls gave his space a warmth to it. It did smell like Lynx Africa, it still seemed to have curtains drawn shut and although they sat against the headboard on unmade grey sheets, it all still screamed Mingi. Their shoes lay scattered on the floor, the music from downstairs muffled in the silence as their thighs pressed together and hands awkwardly played with their clothing.

Mingi’s eyes softly gazed down at her features, at her eyelashes she always complained about, down her nose bridge to her pouted lips he’d first kissed at her best friend’s birthday when they were sixteen.

Her breath rattled, voice deeper in the silence, “I missed you, y’know.” His gaze remained on her face, as he’d never seen anything as beautiful since last seeing her. Y/n’s cheeks flushed, unbeknownst under the lowlight but regardless her chest swelled, like a hole inside her started patching itself together suddenly.

Y/n’s head hesitantly turned to look up at him, taken aback when her eyes met his so soon, noses barely touching. She licked her lips, “Me too. My friends talked so much shit for ages, but I had nothing bad to say about you,” she chuckled with a slight smirk, “I think they were just rooting for us deep down and hurting more than we were.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” he murmured, shifting slightly to face her more, shoulder leaning on the headboard.

She shifted with him, facing him too but still with a closeness that they could hear even a whisper from each other. Her hand slid to his, her fingers tracing over his chunky rings, “We were sixteen-seventeen. At the time we didn’t even know which university we wanted to go to, we didn’t know anything.” Her heart pulsed in her chest, if it weren’t for the volume downstairs she was sure he would hear it. Mingi’s throat felt dry, a restless feeling in his legs as the soft touches of her fingers on his skin lit the fireworks in his stomach.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her body into his side while she cosied up onto his chest, his hand finding home on her hip. She slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. It felt wrong, so wrong to be cuddled up with an ex-boyfriend, but at the same time, the comfort of having heartbeats fall in sync spoke more words than she ever could.

“I don’t regret dating you,” she whispered, taking in a whiff of his cologne and she smiled, even after all those years, he never changed. “Sometimes I wish we hadn’t called it off, I really liked you.”

His grip pulled her tighter into his body, “I know. I hate my younger self. You were the best girlfriend anyone could’ve asked for, so attentive and thoughtful, you were full of so much love. And I made you fucking cry, and then people wouldn’t look at me and my friends got involved when they shouldn’t have. And we never spoke again.” The words tumbled from his mouth and breathing became shaky. The exact scene of the moment once again replayed in his head, the exact moment he saw her eyes gloss over and her lip tremor on a Friday afternoon in mid-November when they were seventeen. Now, it was him whose eyes watered, his free hand gently holding her cheek as she relaxed into his palm. God, it felt so wrong, it’d been so long and here they were, acting as if no time had passed at all.

“Min…”

“I cried that night. Cried like a baby to my mum about what I did. I’ve regretted it ever since…” He leant in, drawing their faces closer, lips ghosting. Y/n’s tummy flipped, tongue darting to moisten her lips. His eyes flickered to her lips, her eyes boring into his, waiting for his decision. Her hand (the one not gripping his), hooked a finger around his chain roughly, pulling him close and closing the ever-long space between them. Goosebumps ran along her skin in a shockwave, the kiss finally setting his inner fireworks exploding beautiful colours within him. Slow, and sweet. But also short, they pulled back with time.

“We were stupid,” she exhaled, his hand moved to cup the back of her neck, “c’mere.” Their lips melted into one another’s like putty, teeth chattering but hands finding their ways to keep the other close. Y/n’s hands balled his t-shirt into fists, Mingi’s fingers tugging the roots on her hair and pulling her body onto his lap, thighs straddling his own while their tongues lapped, and saliva leaked down the corners of their mouths. The taste of cheap alcohol wasn’t enough to repulse, the raw taste of each other made up all the night they lay awake, hopelessly waiting for a goodnight text that would never arrive.

Pulling back with a string of saliva, they panted, giggling ever so slightly. Mingi’s hands fell to her thighs, tracing shapes on the bare skin while hers squeezed his shoulders, fingertips dipping into the ripples of his muscles. She yelped, his hands squeezed her thighs and lips dove straight into her neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses up to her ear and down to the collarbone, finger sliding the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. Despite biting her lip, a soft moan slipped from her throat, his teeth nipping ever so slightly at the skin.

“No marks-“

“-I know, baby. Only in places you can hide them.” His voice vibrated on the column of her neck, heat pooling straight to her cunt and throbbing. Baby. Baby. That came from his mouth for her. He pulled away, opening his mouth slightly only for her to take his jaw into her palms and push him back into the headboard, slipping her tongue hard into his mouth and knocking the air from his lungs. Somewhere between a growl and a moan rumbled from his throat, hands holding a bruising grip on her hips as she made an experimental roll of her hips into his dick.

Shit.

Mingi bit her bottom lip, not hard enough for blood but enough to convey his attempt for dominance. God forbid y/n make him wither to pieces, that’s easy defeat. She rolled her hips again, feeling his cock grow hard in his jeans. Fuck his own body for betraying him.

Drawing back ever so slightly, pressing their foreheads together with hot, tangled breaths and hazy eyes, she giggled at his expression: a lost puppy whining for affection, big, beautiful eyes all glossy.

Her body adjusted to sit on his thigh, never breaking their eye contact as her lips tugged into a smirk. Her finger traced along his jaw slowly, with a featherweight to it, to his chin until disconnected entirely to place her hand over his crotch, palming his painfully solid cock.

He threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and mouth threatening to let a whimper slip with every grope.

“Mmm, feels nice, doesn’t it?” she teased, grinding down on his thigh, the friction igniting an intoxicating sensation between her legs, “But you did make me cry. So, I think you owe me.”  She pulled her hand off him, clutching his shoulders again to swing her leg over and off him. Fumbling with the button of her shorts, y/n hooked her fingers around the waist, wiggling the item of clothing down her legs, panties with them.

“You’re a pretty thing.” He muttered ears tinted pink and the throbbing of his cock almost becoming unbearable. She slung her leg over his thigh again, slowly lowering her cunt onto his jeans, hands firm on his broad shoulders and scrunching his t-shirt. Mingi’s hands held her hips with a soft touch, feeling the bare skin of her thighs as she rocked lazily, lulling her head back when the warm fabric caressed her clit, the attention clearing her mind. With a dark glaze coating his eyes, his lips met her neck with short, hot breaths and sloppy kisses leaving spit along her skin in their wake. “Doin’ s’well.”

Her stomach fluttered when he flexed his thigh, her pussy dragging along his jeans and arousal leaving dark patches along the fabric. Her breathing shuddered the more she rolled her hips, moving from a slow pace to a faster one, her stomach twisted and turned at the pleasure filling her senses, Mingi’s kissing and nipping along her skin only guiding the build-up in arousal.

“Mingi…” she moaned, tilting her head to allow him more access.

“God you’re so fucking hot when you say my name,” he smirked into her neck, squeezing her thighs.

“Mingi, Mingi,” she whimpered his name like a mantra, feeling her core throb as she ground her hips at a sloppier pace, “Mingi!”

“That’s it, baby, pretty pussy’s doin’ s’well.”

“M’gonna cum-“

“-cum, make a mess, y/n. Show me how I make you feel.” Gripping his jaw with her hand, she forced him to look her in the eyes and watch her whine with every rock of her hips, his chest hammering at the way her moans slipped through her lips, like a song he’d play on repeat. Never did he expect to be back with her, let alone sit on his bed, tangled in each other like nothing ever happened. Like they were still in love.

Y/n was shocked that she’d given in to a man, let alone bask in the sensation of her pussy clenching around nothing but seeing him get so worked up over her soaking his clothes. He looked so hot with pink cheeks, frustrated at her bare cunt in front of him, one he couldn’t rut his cock into.

“Fuck! I’m so close, Min.” her grip on his jaw tightened, crashing their lips, and emitting a low but desperate moan from the boy. He bounced his leg slightly, goosebumps running along her skin. He flexed his thigh again, grinning wide like he was enjoying it more than she was, when she cried out, releasing his jaw, and dropping her head into his shoulder, the coil in her stomach winding tighter until her legs trembled. His thumbs rubbed circles over her hips, helping her ride out her orgasm, relishing in having the honour of having her mess treacle over his jeans.

“So fucking hot,” he kissed her hair, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her limp body into his chest, laying back on his bed, “did s’well.” Y/n hummed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Despite the smell of sex and sweat coaxing their skins, his cologne still allowed her muscles to relax in comfortable silence, just the sound of their panting in the room. They say that the further you are, the closer you become—right person, wrong time, all that. Y/n and Mingi were just that as they lay on the bed, of his ratty frat house with his friends and a collective of almost strangers below them in their romantic tragedies (or comedies). Feeling his fingers trace delicate heart patterns on her back, she smiled and placed a warm, gentle kiss on his cheek before catching his gentle gaze. A look only a man who was in love could give.

[Masterlist]

[Requests are CLOSED]

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[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Sorry to Meet You

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Summary: The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years. 

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, accident, surgery, not beta’d, turning, grief

Word Count: 5.8k (sorry, I got a little carried away and I’m getting used to writing one shots again)

Masterlist

I rounded the corner within the halls of my father’s hospital, heading towards his oh so familiar office. I  had spent a good portion of my childhood playing in the office halls of the hospital so as to not get in the way of an emergency. Every take your child to work day, every early dismissal, random day off from school, and every weekend he had to work and couldn’t find someone to watch me, he brought me here up until I was about 12.

Now I was in college, studying biology as a pre-med student at Johns Hopkins University. But today I was returning to Forks for my summer vacation in between my freshman and sophomore year. He was supposed to pick me up from the airport tomorrow but I had wanted to surprise him at work so I left a day early.

Reaching the door to his office, I entered. Embarrassingly, I had been so eager I hadn’t even checked if he was busy. As the door swung open I was met with the golden hair and eyes of the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. Given his youth I assumed he was a student or a resident but one look at his badge told me he was an attending.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” my father’s voice broke me from my trance.

“Hi!” I smiled at my father, ripping myself from the mystery man’s enchanting gaze. “I wanted to surprise you,” I explained, returning his hug. “I was so excited I didn’t even consider that you were busy. Sorry,” I apologized to both men.

“Don’t be,” the blond said in an almost melodic voice. “Trust me I understand the importance of family.”

“Yeah Dr. Cullen’s kids are here all the time,” my father laughed.

‘This guy has kids?’ I thought. ‘Plural? He looks no older than 25.’

Seemingly reading the confusion on my face he explained. “Adopted kids. My sister and I were foster kids so we always agreed we’d adopt as many as possible. So far we’ve adopted five teenagers, hoping to give them a new shot at life.”

“Wow,” was all I said, unsure of how to react. ‘Well this guy was definitely out,’ I noted to myself. ‘Not only is he your father’s colleague, he had five teenagers.’ “Well I should let you get back to it,” I said shyly, already backing out of my father’s office, embarrassed. “I’ll be at the house and we’ll get dinner after?” I suggested to my father.

“Sounds good. See you later sweetie,” he called after me.

~

Carlisle tried his hardest to focus on Dr. L/N’s words but he couldn’t, he was so focused on his colleague’s daughter. When she entered the office he had sucked in a breath he didn’t need. He had heard that some mate connections hit you like a brick but he hadn’t seen it with anyone except presumably between Rosalie and Emmett when she demanded he save him.

So as soon as he was done with his meeting he hopped into his Mercedes and headed towards Dr. L/N’s house. Once he reached it he found no cars in the driveway or any indication that there had been a car there recently, only wet footprints leading up to the porch and inside the door, presumably from Y/N getting out of a cab.

Continuing past the house he parked about half a mile away before running back to the house, a feat that only took him a couple seconds.

Taking a page from Edward’s book he began creeping along the side of the house, trying to spot Y/N through a window. But when he couldn’t find her he was forced to climb up some trees until he found her in what was presumably her bedroom, unpacking a suitcase full of clothes.

He watched, admiring the girl as she sorted through the clothes, tossing some in the laundry bin and others in piles to be sorted in the closet. He realized that he could watch her all day, admiring the quirks of her expression as she reacted to different situations. He hadn’t understood the other Cullens’ obsessions with each other until now.

He continued to watch for hours. His eyes sometimes drifting to the delicate curves of her body but always scolding himself for thinking of her like that given that she didn’t even really know him. But a small part of his mind whispered that she’d be his one day.

He only left when he heard her father’s car approaching, swearing to come back to learn more about her so he could strike up a conversation about her favorite things the next time they “accidentally” ran into each other.

~

The next time I visited the hospital wasn’t just to visit my father, it was because I had managed to slip in a puddle, earning myself a gash on the forehead.

I was sat in the waiting room going on two hours with a blood soaked rag pressed to my forehead. I truly didn’t mind waiting seeing as I knew there were far more injured people getting treated. But as I continued to wait I started to get more and more light headed. I began to make my way to the desk in hopes they could give me some answers when I got a head rush, stumbling into a very cold, hard chest.

“Y/N?” I heard the melodic voice again. This time dripping with concern. “What happened?”

“Oh nothing,” I dismissed, reluctantly pulling away from the grasp he had on my arms. “Just slipped in a puddle and my head kind of ate it,” I chuckled.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, more concern ebbing into his voice.

“I don’t know about two hours?” I shrugged, trying to not make a big deal of it. “Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll just get all concerned and angry and wonder why I wasn’t immediately treated.”

Inside, Carlisle was already feeling all those things I just described. “Well you shouldn’t have to sit there for two hours, bleeding out of your head. You should’ve been brought for a CT. C’mon, can’t have Dr. L/N’s daughter bleeding out in the waiting room.”

I smiled shyly as I felt his strong, cold hand be gently placed on my lower back as he guided me towards an exam room.

~

All throughout the exam Carlisle had to hold his breath. He has excellent control, it’s what many believe to be his special ability and it allows him to do what he loves but Y/N’s blood? The faintest smell alone made venom flood his mouth. And the blood soaked rag along with the fact that he had to bandage up her forehead didn’t help.

“Okay, that should do it,” he smiled, thankfully pulling back from his mate as he finished taping a bandage onto her head. “You’ll have to keep it bandaged for a couple days but your father should be able to help with that. And you most likely won’t scar.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Dr. Cullen. I owe you one.”

He shook his head, breathing a laugh as he looked down at the girl’s chart. “Please, I’m happy to do it. And you can call me Carlisle.”

“Carlisle,” she repeated, nearly melting the vampire right there, “that’s an interesting name, never heard it.”

“Well my parents were a bit old fashioned,” he explained. “So your father tells me you finished your first year at Johns Hopkins? That’s very impressive.”

He admired her blush as she looked down at the ground. “Thanks. I think I was the only one of my graduating class to go out of state.”

“Yeah, I’ve figured out Forks is a very small town. Not many people leave,” he chuckled. “Do you know what you want to study?”

“Um I’ve always kind of wanted to be a surgeon. I know it’s the most difficult specialty but I enjoy the precision of it,” she shrugged.

Carlisle felt a sense of disappointment at the news that his mate wanted to be a surgeon. Being a doctor was hard enough as a vampire but having to literally cut people open? Even he didn’t think he’d be able to focus surrounded by so much blood. He was already dreading having to tell her that she couldn’t be a surgeon after she turned, not at least for decades while she learned control. He was suddenly snapped from his fantasies realizing that this human barely knew him and practically everything he knew about her came from his lurking outside her windows.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts which had no doubt created a long, awkward pause he spoke again. “Yes, well if you made it to Johns Hopkins then I’m sure you can do it.”

“Thanks Doc- Carlisle,” Y/N corrected before standing up off the table and heading for the door.

As she exited, taking most of her intoxicating scent with her, Carlisle sucked in a breath he didn’t need. As much as he hated watching his mate leave he needed a break from her blood. No one had tempted him the way Y/N L/N had, even when he was a starving newborn. And he realized that he would have to figure out a way to get close to her and get her to love him before he even told her about the mate bond. A difficult feat considering her father’s place as his colleague.

~

When Carlisle got home that evening he immediately went to his room, tipping off the family that something was different.

As he collapsed backwards onto his sofa he let his mind wander to his mate. He could picture her face so clearly, and more frighteningly he could still imagine the smell of her blood with eerie accuracy. He imagined all his future endeavors to keep her safe as a human. He’d watch over her, always be within reach to step in when she needed. He pictured their love story. It’d be slow and start with glances and fleeting touches until he invited her out to dinner once she became more comfortable with him. He’d kiss her goodnight on the porch and then make sure she got into the safety of her home before leaving. Their relationship would develop from there with more dates, with Y/N’s father’s approval of course. And when she uttered the words ‘I love you,’ he’d tell her about him and his species because he knew he had earned her love. And as much as he didn’t want to damn her to a life of hiding and being a monster, he couldn’t help but imagine her turning. He’d gently bite into the soft flesh of her throat, injecting his venom into her veins, cementing her as his forever. But the thought of hurting her and turning her into a monster made him hesitate.

As Carlisle continued to immerse himself in his fantasies, his sister entered. “Carlisle?” Esme called softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sitting up. He wasn’t sure whether or not to tell his family that he had met him mate, considering they were already dealing with the human mate to Edward, Bella, who they had just moved back to Forks for. Of course no secrets stayed secrets for long thanks to Edward and Alice’s gifts. Edward could be counted on for discretion but Alice’s overeager nature wouldn’t allow that. He was surprised that Alice hadn’t already planned a party but maybe she hadn’t seen his mate in her visions yet. He had also wanted to keep her his own little secret for a while but clearly that wouldn’t be happening so he relented. “I- uh met my true mate.”

Esme’s eyes widened as she gasped. Of course living in a house full of vampires everyone heard and immediately began rushing in.

“You met your mate!” Alice practically screamed, nearly knocking over Esme.

“What’s she like?” Emmett asked with a grin. “Or he?” he added hesitantly.

“It’s a she,” Carlisle confirmed. “It’s very new. She doesn’t even really know anything about me and everything I know about her comes from lurking outside her window,” he groaned in embarrassment.

“Well that worked with Bella,” Jasper laughed.

Edward shot his brother a glare before looking back at his adoptive father. “Just find an excuse to be around her, ask her on a date.”

“That’s the thing, she’s 19-”

“You’re physically 23,” Alice cut in.

“Her father is my coworker,” he elaborated. “Besides they think I’m 31 at the hospital. And she just finished her first year pre-med.”

“So you’ll see her around the hospital!” Alice insisted, still trying to convince her adoptive father that everything would be fine. “Suggest that she comes to the hospital more to observe or do an internship! Then you can get to know her and ask her on a date.”

“That’s not actually the worst plan,” Edward admitted.

Carlisle thought for a second. That could actually work, he’d just have to figure out how to bring it up to her and her father naturally.

“So what’s she like?” Rosalie asked suddenly.

If vampires could blush Carlisle would be bright red. “Well um she has H/L, (hair length) H/T, (type) H/C (color) hair. She actually looks a lot like her father, Dr. L/N. She goes to Johns Hopkins. Look can everyone just go back to what they were doing?”

“But we want to meet her,” Alice practically whined.

In his frustration with everything Carlisle blurted out, “You may not even get to meet her.”

That dampened the mood. “What?” Esme asked softly.

“Nothing is decided yet but she’s human. We’re already dealing with Bella, the Volturi are already keeping their eyes on us, and I don’t want to doom her to this life if I don’t have to.”

“But this is your mate,” Alice insisted. “You’ve been alone for 350 years!”

“He has a point,” Rosalie cut in. “We can’t afford to have another human know about us especially with the Volturi sniffing around us. And we shouldn’t be turning people unless they’re actively dying.”

“But she’s his true mate!” Alice maintained, practically stamping her foot on the ground. “He can’t just turn his back on her.”

“Look nothing is decided,” Carlisle tried to calm Alice down. “I have to be back at work in a few hours and I need to hunt so if you’d all please let me be.”

Everyone shuffled out of the room reluctantly except for Edward. “It will break your heart to let that girl go.”

Carlisle paused. He knew that, the idea of letting her go live her life and potentially fall in love with someone else broke his heart. “I know,” he admitted. “But the thought of having to hurt her and make her like this hurts just as much.”

“So love her for the duration of her mortal life.”

“Just to watch her age, live in pain, and die? I couldn’t handle that.”

“But you’re doing it for her,” Edward pointed out.

“But if I’m doing it for her shouldn’t I just let her go live a normal life?”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know the right answer here just that no matter what you choose it’ll kill you in some way. That’s the unfortunate truth about loving a human.”

~

A few weeks went by and Y/N became a routine part of Carlisle’s day. He’d usually see her at the hospital, working as a secretary. (A job she acquired even without Carlisle’s suggestion.) Because of that he had gained a reputation for hanging around the nurses station, flirting with Y/N. Not only did he learn about her through actually talking to her, he would make frequent trips to her house to watch her through the windows, even occasionally going into her room, which he felt wrong about but being surrounded by her scent dismissed any doubt from his mind.

“Y/N,” he greeted like he did every morning, bringing her a coffee.

“You must be spending a fortune on coffee,” she commented, taking the cup. She had protested several times, insisting that she pay him back but he refused every time so she just began to accept it.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed. “But if it was it’d be worth it,” he flirted, earning a blush from the girl. Carlisle had learned a lot about flirting in these few weeks. At first it was a bit clumsy but he picked it up fairly easily with a little coaching from Rosalie and Emmett.

“Yeah well you won’t have to spend like $4.50 everyday for much longer, one of my professors is starting a research project a month before the semester begins and he invited me as a fellow,” she explained, a glimmer of disappointment behind her bright, casual expression.

If Carlisle’s heart wasn’t already frozen it would’ve stopped beating. He tried his best to hide his shock and disappointment. “Oh, well congratulations. Getting invited to stuff like this is really good for med school applications.”

“Yeah, and I like being here but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, y’know? Plus it’ll be nice to see the sun again,” she awkwardly laughed, sensing the doctor’s unease.

“Yeah, um well I have to go get some labs. Congratulations, I’ll see you around,” he rushed out with a forced smile. He didn’t stay long enough to hear her response, rushing out of the room as fast as possible without being suspicious.

He couldn’t think straight. He of course had thought about her just leaving but now that it was actually happening, as well as happening sooner than expected, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

~

Carlisle had no clue what to do when it came to his mate leaving. He couldn’t stop her, that wasn’t fair to Y/N, so instead he kept his distance. Which was easy considering that he could smell her from a mile away. Until one day at the hospital when the scent of her blood was particularly strong.

“19 year old female, car crash. Resuscitated once in the field, three times en route,” the panicked voice of the paramedic echoed through Carlisle’s sensitive ears. He rushed into the ER, spotting her through the window of the trauma room. He mostly recognized her through her scent but would know that H/T, H/C hair and S/T skin through purple and blue bruises from a million miles away. But the next words from her attending doctor only confirmed the worst. “Page Dr. L/N, it’s Y/N!”

It felt like Carlisle had been sucker punched in the gut. It took everything in him not to stagger back and let out a dry sob right there in the ER. When her heart monitor flatlined he wanted to slaughter every person in that room in his grief. It was ridiculous, 350 years of self control would be gone just because of a girl. But not just any girl, his girl.

When they finally got Y/N’s heartbeat back they wheeled her up to surgery, just as Dr. L/N entered the ER. “Where’s Y/N? Where’s my daughter?” he demanded, trying to launch himself at the ER desk.

“D/N, D/N,” Carlisle tried to calm the distraught father. He had to physically hold the man back with vampire strength. Fortunately the ER was too chaotic for anyone to notice. “They took her up to surgery, she’ll be fine.”

“Surgery? Oh god,” the man began to cry. “But that’s my baby, she’s all I have.” With those words Carlisle began to feel guilty. Just a few weeks ago a part of him had been so ready to basically just kidnap this poor man’s daughter and completely shatter his world without a thought. “Oh god, surgery here is a death sentence.”

Carlisle began to protest before really thinking about it. Forks Hospital was small, their surgical staff consisted of two surgeons and whatever nurses that had completed the surgical nurse program. No one came her for surgery, they all went to Port Angeles and their non-emergent traumas went there too. The only people who came here were on the brink of death and unfortunately the two surgeons here weren’t exactly outstanding in their field. They were good enough but nothing remarkable and they usually lost their patients due to the circumstances.

~

Carlisle tried to carry on his day as if the love of his life wasn’t dying in a surgical suite right now. But the ordinarily smooth, confident doctor was distracted and constantly messing up. Until finally his shift was over and he went up to his mate’s room. He had orchestrated the nurses’ charts so she’d be placed in a secluded room should Carlisle need to intervene to prolong her life.

When he entered the room he was met with the most heartbreaking sight. Y/N was laid on the bed, an intubation tube sticking out of her throat. Her entire face was black and blue, some bones in her face looked like they had been broken. She hardly looked recognizable. On the only chair in the room sat her father looking like a worried mess. “Oh, hey Carlisle,” Dr. L/N said dejectedly.

“I’m so sorry, D/N.”

The man shrugged. “She’s tough. She managed to claw her way out of this place. She’ll survive this.”

“I hope so,” Carlisle agreed, staring longingly at his mate.

He didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion from Y/N’s father so he reluctantly went home to change and hunt.

After his quick hunt he re-entered his home finding Alice. “Carlisle, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. He wasn’t sure what to say to that but fortunately he didn’t have to come up with anything because she spoke again. “But you have to stay with her at the hospital if you want any shot at survival.” By now Edward had joined them.

“What?” Carlisle asked.

“She won’t survive this. You’re a doctor, you have to know that. So you’ll have to change her.”

Carlisle would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of the scenario where Y/N was severely injured and he needed to change her. He looked up at his oldest son. “There’s nothing wrong about saving her life if she’s already dying.”

Not wanting to waste another second Carlisle sped off. He almost ran to the hospital but realized at the last second he should take the car. So he floored it, doing 150mph practically the whole way there. And finally parking in the back so he’d be able to bring her home unseen.

When he got to the hospital his ears were bombarded with thousands of sounds, something he was now used to, but because of his experience he was able to tune into his mate’s heart monitor while he got his plan ready.

Heading to the morgue he found a body that was a similar build and coloring to Y/N. Carlisle was by no means squeamish but it felt weird to break her bones and watch bruises form over her skin until her face was unrecognizable. He then scraped up as many ashes as possible to make it look like someone had cremated her so no one would go looking for her body. Setting the body aside he headed back upstairs finding Dr. L/N slumped over in a chair.

Carlisle hesitantly shook the older man awake. “Hey,” he said softly, willing the man to take his suggestion. “You should go home and rest. Get changed. I’ll watch over her.” The man hesitated, still staring at his fragile daughter. “She'll be fine, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

He reluctantly agreed before heading out, making Carlisle promise to call him even if her heart rate changed by two points.

Carlisle sat for a while, waiting for the hospital to calm down a bit before enacting his plan. First he went to the nurses station while no one was there, turning off the monitors that connected to his mate’s room. He then went back downstairs, using his hearing and sense of smell to bring the body up without being detected. Finally it was time to turn his mate. He stood over her bedside, observing her mortality for the final time. Through the black and blue of her face he admired her beauty, reminiscing the unique, flawed beauty of mortals.

This would be the most difficult transformation of his life. He was more nervous than when he had turned his sister who was his first turn. Y/N’s blood smelled so sweet he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull away. He took a deep breath through his mouth before lowering his head to her throat, biting quickly. It took everything in him to pull away. He had never killed a human but he had tasted blood when he turned them and Y/N’s was like nothing he had ever tasted before. He knew he had to hold on long enough for the venom to inject into her bloodstream which made it even harder to pull away but he did it.

When he pulled back he could see blood seeping from her puncture wounds telling him he didn’t kill her. He quickly began disconnecting her from the machines before the venom could wreak havoc on her system. He then swapped her body for the one from the morgue, connecting the machines once again. Running down to the car he placed her unconscious figure in the backseat before going upstairs to reconnect the nurses station, alerting them that Y/N L/N was dying.

But by the time they reached her room with a crash cart Carlisle was already escaping with his prize in the back seat.

~

It took three agonizing days for Y/N’s transformation. Carlisle spent every moment he could at her side. He had to go to the hospital in order to not arouse suspicion where he unfortunately had to deal with her grieving father. He had called him on the way home to tell that he had gone to the bathroom and when he got back she was coding. But it didn’t seem to make anything easier for Dr. L/N as the man tried to tackle Carlisle when he walked into work. Fortunately for his secret a nurse stopped him. “You left her!” he screamed. “I lost my baby. I didn’t get to say goodbye because of you!”

At first Carlisle had been elated to finally have his mate (among other conflicting feelings) but now he was confronting the grief he had created. He realized that even if she was going to die anyway, if he hadn’t intervened her father would’ve gotten to say his final goodbye.

Meanwhile at home Y/N was laid on the soft couch in his room. She had spent the first two days sleeping fairly peacefully to the point that Carlisle was afraid he had killed her but her slowing heartbeat was assurance that she was okay. The third day was the hardest, he learned from Jasper that he could feel her pain. He was at work when the pain started and Alice had called him since she would be awake soon and Carlisle had wanted to be the one with her when she woke up.

Carlisle had been sitting by her side for a few hours, admiring her now clear skin, pure from all the bruises and broken bones she had received. In his own cold, stone hand, he now felt the same in her hand, all the warmth having been drained from it now as he played with her fingers adoringly.

~

Even before I opened my eyes I could hear so clearly. I could hear the rustle of clothing, the sound of skin rubbing skin as I realized a cold hand was playing with my fingers. As I became more aware I realized that my throat felt so dry it felt like it was burning.

Peeling my eyes open I was met with what seemed like the brightest object in the universe. I was half convinced I was staring directly into the sun except I could heat the hum of electric lighting.

“Is it too bright?” a voice— Carlisle’s voice asked.

Turning my head I met his warm, golden expression. When I nodded in agreement he ran towards the switch faster than I had ever seen anything move. Weird, but maybe I was just really groggy, but strangely I didn’t feel groggy, I felt more alive than I ever had.

Carlisle’s face reappeared in my field of vision, I could now more clearly see the flawlessness of his skin and the flecks of gold in his irises. Unbeknownst to me he was was also now observing the smoothness of my skin and the deep red hue of my eyes. Something about him felt safe and warm, like I never wanted to leave his side again. “Carlisle?” was all I could think of to say.

His adoring smile widened when I said his name. “Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Good…” I answered hesitantly. I felt better than I ever had but his question made me think I shouldn’t feel good.

“That’s good. The transformation can be rougher for some people,” he explained, pulling away slightly to allow me room to sit up.

As I pushed myself up I moved so fast the couch slid to the side. My eyes widened, realizing what happened. “What’s going on? What transformation?”

He took my hands in his, now kneeling on the ground in front of me. “This is going to be strange and you won’t believe me but bear with me, okay?” he asked, looking up at me. One look in his eyes and I was melting so I just nodded, allowing him to explain. “I’m… a vampire. And I made you one too.” Laughs began to wrack my body, this had to be a joke. But one look at the grave sincerity on his face told me he wasn’t joking. “It’s true. It’s why when you sat up the couch moved. Why you’re probably really overwhelmed with all the sound, smells, lights, and feelings. Vampires are the most dangerous predators. We have better senses, are faster, and stronger than anything else.” Seeing my lost expression he rushed out the next words. “I know it’s a lot and I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“How much do you remember?”

“The last thing I remember is driv-” I suddenly realized what must’ve happened. “I was in an accident wasn’t I?”

Carlisle nodded his head regretfully. “You weren’t going to make it. That’s why I turned you. I didn’t want to do it. I was going to let you live your life as a human whether that be with me or with someone else but I couldn’t just let you die.”

“So what? You just turn every dying patient in the hospital?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around his words.

He shook his head no. “You’re the first I’ve turned in nearly 70 years. I couldn’t let you die because… well you see-” Carlisle was struggling with the best word choice to keep from scaring his mate off. “We’re mates… I knew the instant I saw you. Humans can’t feel it as strongly and it’s rare to meet your true mate but that’s what we are.” I didn’t know how to react, I didn’t even know exactly what I was feeling. “You don’t have to stay, you certainly don’t have to accept our bond but I thought you should know about it. Before you got hurt I was planning to hopefully be worthy of your love the old-fashioned way but given the circumstances…”

Before I could say anything the door swung open, revealing three more vampires. One had blonde curls, another with a brunette, short pixie, and the third had caramel hair and had a strong resemblance to Carlisle. “Hi, I’m Alice!” the bubbly brunette introduced.

“Um, girls-” Carlisle attempted to dismiss them so as to not overwhelm his mate.

“She’s probably thirsty,” the blonde insisted. Everyone looked over at me expectantly. Remembering the burning in my throat I nodded. Alice approached, opening a cup allowing the most appetizing scent to permeate through the air. I took it eagerly, frowning when I looked into the cup to find a thick, red liquid. Blood.

“It takes a bit of getting used to,” the caramel-haired one empathized.

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” Alice encouraged.

I gingerly brought it to my lips. The more I could smell it the thirstier I got so I downed the drink. The second the blood touched my lips I couldn’t get enough as I began to down the drink. Once it was all gone Carlisle gently brought the cup from my hands. “C’mon, you should meet the others,” he said, gently taking my hand in his. He led me out of his room, the three women following us into what looked like a very modern living room where there were three men waiting for us. “Y/N, these are my adoptive kids,” Carlisle explained as the blonde and Alice went to stand with their… brothers? “That’s Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie,” he pointed out the couples, “Edward, and my sister, Esme.”

~

The Cullen clan welcomed Y/N with open arms, including Bella when she eventually met the new vampire. It took a day or two of warming up but soon enough Carlisle and Y/N began to behave just like other mates. They were constantly together, and the rest of the Cullen clan were happy to finally see Carlisle so happy with his mate after 350 years.

Masterlist

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Vil, Jack: a Strength that Shines

Ayyy, it’s the childhood friends (?) from the Shaftlands!! It feels like forever since we last got any significant interactions between Vil and Jack. Nice to see them chatting again~

bdjwvsjsGuabs THAT GROOVY THOUGH… Vil looks so judgmental and dismissive 😭 Channeling all his Mean Girl energy to diss Neige Snow White, lol

A Tale as Old as Time.

Four sides drew together to form a glittering box. A lovely maiden rested within the coffin-like casing of the photo frame. Her lips as red as blood, her hair as dark as ebony, and her skin as fair as snow.

She was circled by foliage, her sun-dappled face tilting up, disarmed by some distant call. The girl cupped her dainty hands together, housing a small baby blue bird in her palms. Kindness, goodness, grace—she exuded all of them.

Vil scoffed, tossing golden hair over his shoulder. Her smile was reminiscent of a rival celebrity, one pure as a dove's feathers.

So carefree, so cheery.

How irritating, he sighed.

"One ought to be more cautious in the woods. Who knows what dangers might lurk nearby, wishing to enact harm upon her.

"For a glamour shot though... Hmm, yes. This composition is acceptable. The sunlight is angled upon her face in a pleasing way—it casts a golden glow on her pale visage and highlights the highest points: cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. The impression is one of total innocence.”

A soft grunt sounded from beside him.

"She's... shining," Jack commented plainly. His critique, clipped. “Didn’t you do a photo shoot like this recently? Similar place and everything.”

Vil’s beauty was momentarily marred by a grimace. “Yes, as promotional material for an upcoming film. However, the feel of it was completely different than what you see here.”

Shadows instead of sunlight. Temptation in the place of innocence.

He, poised amid the creeping branches and dark leaves, a tatter cloak clinging to his curves. A single, crimson apple in his grasp, a sultry look directed at the camera.

He tried to picture himself like the girl in the frame countless times over. Kneeling among the woodland creatures, smiling so serenely. Any pro could pull it off—he included.

But the image never turned out right in his mind.

Not the right amount of sweetness, not natural enough.

Not quite the same.

Not at all.

Blood, sweat, tears. Sacrifices made at the altar. Yet still, the world yielded nothing but broken promises and shattered dreams. The splintered parts and shambles of them, he gathered, forming his own makeshift hope and determination.

He couldn’t give in here.

Vil’s perfectly groomed brows scrunched up.

“I shall have to endeavor to work even harder. I’m not satisfied with things as they are now.”

“Heh.” Jack cocked a small, lopsided grin. “Keeping on the grind… That’s just like you. You've got this."

“Obviously. Nothing will get accomplished otherwise.” Vil’s eyes passed over to the beastmen. “Presumably, you are doing the same."

"Yeah. Haven't skipped a day of my training regimen." Jack slapped a hand on his bicep, which fit snuggly in his glittering white sleeve. "We'll take out RSA next track and field meet!"

"I'd certainly hope so. If I am to taste sweet revenge, I'd prefer it be by my own hand... but I trust you to deliver in my place. I expect good news when next we speak. Do not disappoint me."

"Yessir!" Jack's tail wagged enthusiastically. He stood alert, saluting like a loyal knight. “I'll do my best!"

“Then it looks as though we both have our long-term goals set.” The dorm leader planted his hands on his waist—slim, cinched.

"Yours is...?"

"To surpass myself." Vil jerked his chin toward the girl in the painting. "To shine so brightly that my name not only goes down in history, but overshadows that which was written before."

"That's some big dream you have." Jack shook his head. "The scale's beyond what I can imagine. But knowing how stubborn you are, Vil-senpai... You seriously won't quit until you make that dream come true."

"My, my. Stubborn, am I?" He smirked, arms crossed. "I do believe it takes one to know one.

"You stand back and watch. I'll show you just how dazzling I can be."

His eyes held a steeliness to them. It was matched only by the same in Jack’s. Two strong men and their wills, meeting on equal grounds.

Jack simply nodded—an acknowledgment, an acceptance, of his upperclassman’s confidence. Overwhelming, like a powerful wave, a strong storm, a blazing inferno. He almost felt compelled to drop to one knee, to kneel before such a presence.

Vil turned away from the painting, his arms unraveling from one another. His movements were graceful, nearly ballet-like. And his expression—

Jack caught him mid-laugh. The snooty, airy kind, half-sincere, half-sarcastic. Brows upturned, mouth twisted in a faux sympathetic smile. Flaxen waves framing his lovely features.

His lips moved.

“I’ll topple you from your throne,” Vil vowed.

It was then that Jack noticed.

Vil-senpai's shining like the fair maiden.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Another independent Palestinian terrorist attack happened today, it was another stabbing, much like yesterday's, and I feel nauseous that we're at the point where, when I'm looking for an online source in English, I'm struggling to find the latest one out of all the terrorist attacks reported recently. I heard an eyewitness say the terrorist entered a cafe, stood in line, then started stabbing those standing in front of him. The terrorist is a 22 years old Israeli Arab, originally a Gazan. From what I understand, his dad is a Gazan who married an Israeli Arab woman, both men got Israeli citizenship, and the terrorist has lived in Israel for the last 4 years, during which he married an Israeli woman, like his dad. On his mother's side of the family, he has two relatives who are Israeli heroes: one is a soldier, who died not that long ago fighting in Gaza, another is a cop, who saved several people from the Hamas massacre at the Nova music festival. I've heard now 2 Israeli Arab citizens from the community where he lived denouncing him. The terrorist was neutralized. At least 2 people are reported injured, one man in his 60's is lightly wounded, another is in his 50's. One man (in a white shirt with stripes in the vid below) at the cafe saw the terrorist and jumped him with bare hands. Stripes Man kept trying to detain the terrorist until he saw one of the wounded managed to pull out a gun, Stripes Man moved out of the way, the injured one shot more than once and stopped the terrorist, but outside he collapsed, and was hospitalized in a mortal state.

The global rise in antisemitic incidents under the guise of anti-Zionism continues, this time we get insane news from Australia. I'm just gonna quote the report directly: "Two pro-Palestinian activists in Australia were charged on Tuesday with kidnapping and assaulting a victim for the perceived crime of being employed by a Jew."

Meanwhile, the Holocaust memorial at the transit camp of Drancy, through which the Jews of France were deported to their extermination in the east, was vandalized. I'll say it again, the timing is not a coincidence, as we see more and more antisemitic incidents, it's clear each one will get less attention, and less resources allocated to correcting the wrong, since it's all being spread so thin.

I wrote yesterday about a pilot program, which is one of many attempts by Israel to allow humanitarian aid into Gaza without about 60% of it being hijacked by Hamas. I'm sad to say that the pilot has failed, and the aid has been looted. Interestingly, it's not clear by whom. Which is many a good moment to add this: in addition to Hamas taking over the aid, so do existing Gazan mob families (presumably, the criminals are taking over the aid in order to sell it back to regular Gazans at exploitative prices).

A South African minister has announced that her country will be arresting all citizens of South Africa returning from fighting for Israel in Gaza. I do not recall any such announcement regarding South Africans returning from fighting for either side in any other area in the world, such as Ukraine or Syria. I think there's a chance we're watching South Africa ethnically cleansing itself of Jews.

These are Israeli-American mother Judith Raanan and her teenage daughter Natalie.

About a month after the start of the war, they were the first 2 Israeli hostages to be released by Hamas. Here is a short vid where Judith talks about their experiences, including how the nurses at the Gazan hospital Hamas took them to after they were kidnapped CHEERED at the sight of (in her words) "Israeli Jewish prey":

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[sanjoongie]

Arch Nemesis

For @cultofdionysusnet Mocha Madness event

🧠Pairing: Choi San x Reader (f) x ???

🧠Au: hero/villain au

🧠Trope: e2l (enemies to lovers), f2l (friends to lovers), established relationship

🧠Rating: 18+, MDNI, smut, angst

🧠Warnings: mind reading, emotion manipulation (they're superheroes, they have powers), cheating

🧠Kinks: mutual masturbation, sexual fantasies made reality, pussy slapping, deep throating, choking, penetrative sex with no barrier, oral (m), spit kink, deep throating

🧠Word count: 3,730

🧠Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for beta-ing, my unholy trinity partners in crime 🥰 and to @starlitmark for bouncing ideas with me and helping this plot flourish!

🧠Summary: you're a hero, one who has struggled to remain good, but what happens when you're most guilty fantasy with your arch nemesis of all people, comes to light?

“Gotta go, duty calls,” You said as you leaned over in your bed and kissed San’s cheek.

“No,” San murmured, pulling you in tightly against his body, “Stay. They can send someone else.”

You gently extracted yourself from San’s grasp. “Nice try but I can’t be your pillow all night. Get some sleep, Baby.” San mumbled into his pillow as you left your shared bed with a fond smile on your face.

You and San had been friends since college; you'd both been training then to be supe's. The two of you had been brought together because of your powers. San had the ability to read minds and telekinesis, which was the makings of a villain. And you could shoot a heart with your finger and temporarily gain control of whoever you shot. Basically, your target would be in love with you and do anything for you. Which was also seen as the potential to be a villain. The two of you had banded together as outcasts and had been friends ever since.

Considering the reason you had become friends, you had made a pact with San: to never speak on your missions, because you didn't want your professional life to ruin your friendship. You didn't know what San’s alter ego was and he didn't know yours. 

It had been only recently that your friendship had bloomed into a relationship. You were happy for it. San was the perfect soft and caring boyfriend. If only you didn't have a dirty secret that involved your arch nemesis.

Your comms told you your mission was at the old Treasure Hotel. Loudmouth was up to his old shenanigans. Apparently he had used his screaming powers and made everyone vacate the hotel so he could rob the safe. Except once you got there, running through the hotel, attempting to locate Loudmouth, you found no one. It wasn’t until you burst through the door to the rooftop that you discovered him--and his long-time ally, Killjoy.

“And I’m gone,” Loudmouth announced, jumping from the top of the roof, screeching when he presumably reached the ground to halt his ascent. 

You narrowed your eyes down at Killjoy. The villain was your arch nemesis, the antithesis of your life. If there was a problem in your life, he was usually the center of it all. Of course you had to pull yourself out of bed from your boyfriend to confront the one man you didn’t want to see this evening.

“What’s this about, Killjoy?” You demanded. You summoned your power, folding one of your hands into the shape of a gun and using the other to support your wrist.

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

You continued to hold your stance. “If you know that I’ve plans for the mayor’s inaugural, that’s pretty smart of you. I didn’t think you had it in you,” you quipped.

Killjoy smirked. “I don’t need to be smart to know that you think of me when you stuff your pretty fingers inside of you.”

You dropped your stance immediately. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Killjoy cocked his head. “You don’t think about me tucking my legs around yours to hold them in place as I ease in three fingers and you tell me you couldn't possibly take that much but your pussy takes them easily. You don’t think about me whispering how it’s so dirty that a hero could be taking my fingers so well. You don’t think about me slapping your pussy and pinching your clit and--”

“ENOUGH!” You shouted. Shame was covering you from head to toe right now. That was your exact fantasy, down to how many fingers you wanted him to shove into you. How could he suddenly read your mind when he’s barely skimmed the surface before?

Killjoy hopped onto one of the fans on the top of the building and leaned forward on his legs. His crooked smile pulled to the side, revealing a dimple. “Why just think about it when we could make it a reality?”

“Abso-fucking-luytely not!” You said in horror.

A hero? Getting finger banged by her arch nemesis? Never!

“How about this,” Killjoy suggested in a smug tone, “You show me what you do when you fantasize about me…” He took a moment to spit in his palm, “And I’ll show you what I do when I think of you.”

Your jaw just about hit the floor. “Excuse me?!”

Killjoy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think it’s possible that I think about holding you down on my dick, shutting up that smart mouth of yours, always calling me a failure of a villain?” You clenched your legs together but Killjoy didn’t miss anything. “Come on, what’s a little mutual masturbation between old time enemies, huh?”

Your body worked on its own accord, your fingertips moving to the teensy-tiny skirt of your uniform. Killjoy’s eyes are glued to the pathway your fingers follow until you’ve raised the skirt and he can see your still clothed core but…

Killjoy’s tongue came out to wet his lips. “Is that a wet spot, Loveshot?”

You pushed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah,” You let out a shaky breath.

“Show me,” Killjoy insisted, leaning forward even further, eyes glued to your crotch.

You leaned back against the rough stone of the old building, fingers hovering over your outer lips. “I--you tease me a lot,” You admitted.

“Mhmm,” Killjoy prompted you. 

“Sometimes you--” You gasped when you palmed your breast and found the nipple tight already. “--you pull and pinch my nipples and call me a superslut.”

You watched with bated breath as Killjoy peeled back the lower half of his suit and you sighed dreamily as his girthy dick was revealed. You knew there was a reason you used three fingers for him in your fantasies. “Now my turn. You usually say something about how my suit makes my dick look tiny, so when you protest, I rub my dick against your face and lips, but once my dick is seated in your hot mouth, you crumble and take it all for me.” Killjoy’s hips twitched upwards as his spit-covered hand moved up and down his dick. 

"Sometimes I get so wet from pretending my fingers are yours that I--" You bit down on your lip to muffle a moan.

"Who's gonna hear you way up here  Loveshot?" Killjoy smirked once again, "Let me hear all your desperate noises for me."

Shame still burns in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn't do this. You had San but everything was still new with him. This dirty little fantasy you've had of Killjoy had been around before you two had evolved from friends to lovers. You needed this.

You unceremoniously slapped your cunt and your head lolled back with how delicious it felt. "You tell me that I can take anything you give me, just like you know you can throw me into any situation as a hero and I can save the day."

Killjoy let out a low moan and scrunched his nose upwards. "I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick. You choke and you cry and you say that you love every moment of it."

You're so worked up at this point that you could actually cum. "I'm--" You choked on the words when you watched Killjoy shamelessly spurt all over his hand.

He opened his eyes, heavy lidded with satisfaction and gave you a slow smile. "Come for me, my nemesis."

“Killjoy!” You come undone for him, pussy convulsing around your fingers and you ride them, closing your eyes for just a moment and picturing Killjoy’s smirk above you.

"Don't do that," Killjoy groaned.

You had forgotten he was still in your head. You ripped your fingers from your cunt and wiped them against your thighs to clean them. You turned to leave but Killjoy couldn't help but get a final verbal shot in.

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?" 

You threw up a middle finger as a parting gift and shifted the color of your hair and your nose. By the time you made your way to the bottom of the skyscraper, you were completely indistinguishable from Loveshot. But you were still the same person. You had just gray-area cheated on San with your arch nemesis.

Your comms buzzed and you saw you received a text you simply could not ignore:

Sannie🥺: wanna meet up? I’ll order your regular at Blue Bird.

You: just finished up, see you there

Guilt wracked through your body. If you said no San would know something was up. But could you truly sip on a sugary sweet beverage, which your best-friend-turned-boyfriend had memorized as your order, as if nothing had happened?

You stumbled into the coffee shop that you and San frequented, only a few blocks away from your shared apartment. You weren’t used to fighting crime, then having a mind blowing orgasm afterwards. Your super power wasn’t stamina, that was for sure. Your eyes sought out San immediately, who waved you over to the table he was seated at. 

“Hey Babe,” San greeted you.

“H-hey,” You replied shakily. 

San had his normal gray hoodie but it was barely zipped up and you could see a sheen of sweat covering his upper chest that peeked past the zipper. He smiled softly, “I couldn't sleep, so I went to the gym. Sorry, I must smell like a locker room.”

You laughed under your breath. “You smell like you just walked out of a perfume ad.”

San scratched the back of his head. “Careful, I think my heart just beat a little harder from that.”

You smiled painfully. You attempted to sit at the café table and faltered, barely catching yourself against the edge. Unfortunately for you, your abused clit took most of the weight as you collapsed against it and you made an embarrassingly loud and desperate noise.

San’s eyes widened and then immediately avoided your eyes. What did he just realize?!

“San?” You worried your teeth on your bottom lip. You managed to properly sit down and sip your drink to do something, anything. 

“Where did you just come from?” He asked quietly.

“Uh… you know, superhero stuff,” You shrugged.

The two of you had a strict policy of not speaking about your cases, to not muddy up each other’s professions. It just worked better that way. But San chose today to push it. He pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shifted closer to you. “Where did you come from?” he repeated firmly.

“The subway. Hostage situation. Wrapped it up pretty quickly,” You lied. 

San sat back but eased an arm around the back of your chair. “Good.”

The tension eased out of your shoulders and you leaned into San’s embrace. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

The two of you walked home, San’s arm still around your shoulder, you still leaning against him. You were cold and were trying to absorb some of his warmth. Not even the drink from the coffee shop could warm up the sinking feeling in your chest. Even as you got home, got ready for bed, you couldn't shake your anxiety.

Guilt is gnawing at the end of your mind and you know that there is no going to sleep like this. You turned to tell San that you’re going to wind down in the living room when he approached you from behind. His lips are like sweet caresses along the slope of your shoulder. “Come back to bed with me,” he murmured, as if he could sense you were pulling away.

“Sannie,” You turned around in his embrace, “My mind--”

San’s eyes travel over your face, a hand cupping one side. “You’re vibrating with the need to leave. Let me put you to sleep.” Gently, San tilted your head with the same guiding hand, peppering kisses along your jawline. 

Your heart soared and then crashed into your guilt. You couldn't possibly--not after what you did with Killjoy… “San, I’m really tired,” You protested.

“You’re not,” San disagreed with a rumble deep in his chest. “Even if your body may be, your mind is restless. I can help.”

San swept the straps of your pjs off your shoulders and continued to kiss down your neck to your collarbones. You can’t help but moan at the feel of his lips on your skin. Was your boyfriend seducing you?

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?"

Your body became tense with the sudden intrusion. Your powers brewed on the tip of your tongue and the pads of your fingers. You’d never use your powers against San but the need to push him off, to not mingle his touches with that of Killjoy’s was important!

“I have a better idea,” You found yourself suggesting before you could stop your treacherous tongue. “Let’s watch each other masturbate.”

San’s eyes widened considerably at your suggestion. “What?!”

Now it’s your turn to seduce. You ditched your top completely, to sit back on your shared bed and lie back, propping yourself up with your elbows. “Want you to watch me while I touch myself, Sannie,” You purred, “Wanna watch you while you touch yourself.”

San stumbled, as if his feet were moving him unbiddenly, but he made it to the edge of the bed where you were. You move so that the two of you are opposite of each other, a full view of whatever the other one’s planning on doing. You massage your breasts, making them pucker in the cool early morning air. San licked his lips like he wished they were wrapped around them. His eyes move to meet yours, waiting for you to start.

“Before we got together, when we were just friends, I used to get off to the idea of you sneaking in my bed and eating me out,” You said shakily. “I would play with my nipples and put so much lube on my pussy, using one of those flower vibrators, wishing it was your tongue. I had convinced myself that you loved eating pussy and it was something I wanted you to want with me.”

San groaned and began to palm himself through his sleep pants. “We were idiots.”

You couldn't help but giggle. “We were.”

San watched with rapt attention as you pulled aside your underwear and dipped a finger into your wetness. You spread it along your clit, moving in slow, tantalizing circles, careful of how abused your clit had been just a few hours ago by your own self torture. “Sannie?” You prompted him.

San snapped out of his deep thought while watching your finger circle your clit and pulled himself out of his confines. “I used to want you to use your power on me.” His voice cracked and he had to clear it. “Make me do whatever you want me to do. I used to edge myself for hours alone on the thought that you’d never let me cum unless it was inside of you--pussy or mouth.” San’s blunt fingernails dug into his thighs but he didn’t touch himself.

You stop touching yourself and crawled towards San’s body. “Do you need some lubrication?” 

San whimpered as you hovered over him, hands on either side of his hips. You spit on his cock, letting it slowly dribble downwards. You leaned downwards, almost as if you were going to take him in your mouth but instead you simply blew air on him. San’s hips thrust into the air, whining again. “Please,” he asked but you weren’t sure he even knew what he was asking for.

“Go ahead and touch yourself,” You encouraged him.

“ ‘m sensitive,” San mumbled, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinked many times, a cute pout pulling at his lips.

You can’t help but grin at the admission. “Did you masturbate while I was out, Sannie?”

San’s body jerked backwards, a loud gasp in the back of his throat. “N-no.”

You dropped your body so that you could take San’s cock in your mouth with one quick dip of your mouth. San’s body strains at being encompassed suddenly by your warm, wet mouth. Tiny thrusts into your mouth tell you all San wants is to get off in your mouth and by the throb of your lower half, all you want is to give it to him. 

"I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick.

How is it that you're sucking off your sweet boyfriend and you can't get Killjoy's degrading voice out of your head?

At that exact same moment, San's hands grab both sides of your head and he began to fuck your mouth. You have no time to think, only time to make sure your breaths time with the in-and-out motion of his cock down your throat. Your nose practically buries itself into San's bronze skin, mouth coming flush with the base of his cock. San had never--

Just as quickly as he held you down on him, he pulled you off of him. You stare up at him, saliva and precum dripping from your open, panting lips. “San?”

San adjusted immediately, a dopey sweet smile pulling at his lips, making his eyes become crescent moons. “I don't want to cum in your mouth.”

You're fast to climb onto his lap, arms draped over his broad shoulders. “My baby,” You couldn't help but coo, “You really do put me first, don't you?”

San smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head. “I love you, that's why.”

Your heart burst at the admission. “I love you too, sweet boy.”

The two of you moved your hips in sync, exchanging kisses and moans, as you made love in your shared bed. This was where you wanted to be: in San's arms, drinking in his noises of pleasure, being the center of his world. You didn't want to be with--

Your climax hit you like a slow burn and the first thing that tumbled from your mouth was the name you had been thinking of. “Killjoy!” you groaned quietly.

San’s body was ramrod straight even though you could feel his dick twitching inside of you, his cry cut off at what you said. You scrambled to remove yourself from his body but San wrapped his arms around you to keep you firmly in place.

“What did you just say?” San said in a voice that broke your heart into a million pieces.

“No-nothing,” You stuttered, throat full of emotions.

“Where did you go when they called you out,” San demanded again, bringing up his question from earlier.

“I told you, the subway--!” You squealed as your back hit the bed, San pinning you down with his heavy body against yours.

San reached for your hand and squeezed it tightly, intertwining your fingers with his . “You have two seconds to answer me correctly before I read your mind, love.”

“San!” You gasped and visibly reeled back. San never invaded the minds of the ones he loved, he swore he would never. 

San licked his lips, a frown furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not asking casually.”

Your gut was telling you that suddenly your entire world depended on the answer to this question and you had no idea where it would land you. “I was on the rooftop of The Treasure Hotel.”

San cursed lowly. “Loveshot?”

Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Had San just guessed your alter ego? What did that mean? 

San let go of your hand and shakingly raised it to his face. You thought he was going to rub it tiredly over his face, somehow privy to you cheating on him with your arch nemesis. “Sannie, please, it was nothing!” You cried out.

Instead, he covered his eyes and smirked. “I already know.”

Your blood chilled in your veins. 

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

“Killjoy?” You yelled in disbelief.

And, you swear to God, San's dick pulsed inside of you upon hearing his alter ego's name upon your lips in your shared bed.

“No,” You shook your head. There was no fucking way your best friend, your boyfriend, was an evil villain?

Flashbacks to the supe's college you both attended, the way you were both outcasts, vaguely bringing up your powers as the reason. Bonding over wanting to overcome your natural abilities and prove to everyone you were good. 

“Someday, the world won’t judge me,” San had proclaimed. Clearly that had not crossed over very well.

It all came crumbling down around you. 

San lowered his hand and there was a glint in his eye. “If I had known…”

In some fucked up way, relief flooded you. You hadn't cheated on San; you simply masturbated with his alter ego. That was okay… right?

“Are we…” How were you going to meld the two worlds together, how could you continue to date and fuck a villain, how-- “Are we okay?”

San’s lips surged towards yours in a kiss that was desperate and messy and yet somehow full of love and adoration. “Do you still love me?” San gasped into your mouth. 

You looked up at the man who was your everything. Even now, knowing he was your arch nemesis and had been for a long time, he was even more so your everything. He was your world when you weren’t working and he was your obsession when you were. Was this going to fuck up your job? Absolutely. Was it going to fuck up your relationship?

“I love you like the sun loves the moon,” You admitted. Surely the two bodies in the sky were enemies, constantly chasing after each other, constantly fighting for time in the sky. 

A subtle shift of San’s hips had you gasping. He was hard inside of you. His eyes were alight with love and mischief and lust. “I love you like a villain loves a hero.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @mingsolo @k-pop-ology

special suffer with me braincell tag: @smallfrye

[admiral-mason]

I'm bored, random crossover time again

Recently I have gotten into a little shooter game known as Ultrakill.

For those who don't know: Ultrakill is basically a shooter game that combines elements from Titanfall, Doom Eternal, Devil May Cry, etc. You play as V1, a literal blood-powered combat robot that descends into Hell (from Dante's Inferno) to get more blood. On the way, you fight demons, angels, and other machines.

So? With my blog basically sporadically alive, let me revive it with another nonsensical crossover!

Gender neutral reader

SPOILERS AHEAD!

How these two games crossed over:

So you own both a PC and a phone/tablet. You would mostly play Genshin Impact on your mobile device while you played Ultrakill on your PC.

You've managed to complete both games and right now you tried obtaining all the alternate 'slab' weapons in Ultrakill. You have one already, simply called the slab revolver by many. Your next weapon to obtain is the sawblade launcher, located in stage 4-4 Clair de Soleil.

So, you did so. Whiplashing the blue skull from the right room after you used the first jump pad, the door opened and you shot your railcannon into the water. However, when you did so, the game decided to crash on you.

"What the hell??" You said before grumbling a little and trying to boot the game back up to no avail. Closing out the game, you bothered to play a little Genshin. However, within a few seconds of booting up the game, you got shocked and blacked out.

How you got to Teyvat:

After waking up, you found yourself in a plains area... and then you saw an anemo slime.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." A voice that sounded like Microsoft Sam said from behind you.

(V1's voice from this program)

Turning around, you were greeted by the blue camera head himself.

"What the frick V1 how are you here??"

"I don't fucking know, one moment I touched the sawblade launcher, and now I'm here in what appears to be Limbo but not fake with the human who basically assisted me in murdering all of hell for blood. By the way, you perform really great shotgun yeets!*"

"Uh, thanks." You awkwardly responded.

"Now where the fuck can I get some blood?"

In Mondstadt:

The two of you ended up wandering around V1 had managed to kill a few wild animals for blood with his revolver. It didn't take long for someone to hear the sounds and approach you two afterward.

"You two! Stop right there!" Amber heard the sounds of V1's revolver shots as she ran towards you two. If it weren't for you rapidly telling V1 to not shoot her, she'd likely be on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

"...Hi there." You awkwardly said before she ended up tackling you to the ground in a hug with V1 just looking at the sight.

After Amber took you two to Mondstadt, word spread quickly of the Divine One and their blue angel-looking machine. The two of you managed to receive free housing with the Knights of Favonius alongside a tour of the city.

V1 abused his superior mobility to cross the entire city from one side to the other in less than a minute. This astonished the local citizens at this strange individual's movement skills. And then he accidentally crashes into a random citizen's cart.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEE"

"V1 don't you're gonna-!"

V1 crashes into a cart full of cabbages, toppling it

"..."

Everyone's also confused at his ability to seemingly generate coins... before shooting at them with that curved thing he holds in his hands and then it kills stuff. (I presume that most Mondstatians have never seen guns, the closest they have seen is probably a bow,)

Then he somehow pulls a giant double-barreled minigun?? Then a tube that shoots rockets??

Expect Klee to be all over him.

"Well see, this rocket launcher used to be an industrial tool, until some-"

"HOW BIG OF A BOOM CAN IT MAKE?!"

"...Let me demonstrate!"

V1 activated the freeze mode on his Freezeframe Rocket Launcher and fired a few rockets at a group of wolves...

...Safe to say, those wolves and their surroundings got blown up to high hell.

When Jean found the destructive duo, V1 just took Klee into his arms and proceeded to abuse his mobility yet again.

"BOING! Catch me now, bozo!"

"Get back here you blue thing-"

"I am not a blue thing thank you- BOING!"

Looking past shenanigans, Albedo and Sucrose have taken an interest in V1's lethal arsenal that's even far superior to Fatui tech. Noelle might ask to train with the machine after some introductions.

In Liyue

After a few days of staying in Mondstadt, you kinda wanted to see Liyue so you told everyone else and asked V1 to accompany you. Upon arrival though, you found out that Liyue prepared a celebration for the two of you. Turns out news can leak out quickly to the world even if you've only interacted with a part of it.

V1 found Liyue significantly more fun to traverse and navigate around. From mountainous marvels to spacious streets, the nation provided him with no short of tricks to pull off.

Everyone interacted with V1 normally until he started using the Whiplash to grab items from various vendors merely flipping a few coins at them in return. This led to a scuffle with the Millelith and he ended up shocking everyone by knocking all of the soldiers out with a mere punch to their chest.

Thankfully you managed to calm him down.

When he saw the Jade Chamber, he made it a personal challenge to ascend without using the proper way. He unfortunately did so while Ningguang was pleasantly talking with you.

"This, your grace, is-" You could then faintly hear rocket sounds in the distance, with Ningguang following suit shortly after. You both turned in the direction of the sound to see V1 flying on a rocket with his Freezeframe Rocket Launcher yet again before he jumped off and landed right next to the two of you.

"Hi friend I'm back! Mechanic abuse is funny!"

Ningguang just blinked at the sight of the combat machine that somehow stood on a small flying object to get up here without proper authorization. "...Your grace what the heck did that thing just do??"

"I AM NOT A THING-"

Part 2?

*Shotgun yeets refer to projectile boosts.

[lookingforhappy]

Five's Original Apocalypse (aka the one he got stuck in) wasn't caused by the moon

I don't think it was caused by the moon/meteor hitting the earth like at the end of s1, I think it was an alternate apocalypse caused purely by Viktor's unrestrained powers.

The amount of destruction that the moon caused is disproportionate to the destruction we see in Five's apocalypse.

The moon fragment that hits earth is bigger than the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. The Chicxulub asteroid (type that into google to get a fun little animation!) measured roughly 15 kilometers wide, for reference, this is 15 kilometers:

it's not even big enough to cover all of London or NYC. The crater it made was 10x that:

looking at the size of the smaller moon asteroids, they seem roughly the right size (note that i am terrible at maths and will not be doing any science to reach this conclusion) based on the explosion size - and there's at least 13 of them. 13 dinosaur killers before the big fragment even gets close.

using this guy's estimation, the larger fragment is a minimum of 100 km, which is more than 6x the size of the Chicxulub:

and guessing from the chicxulub crater, this crater would be 10x 100km = 1000km.

which easily eats most of western europe or at least 12 states:

which is more than an extinction event, it's The extinction event, possibly Earth's extinction.

it's not super clear what part of Earth the fragment hits, I think it lands somewhere in the pacific

the strip of dotted lights leading from the bottom right meteor to the middle most meteor is likely California -> Mexico, with the Meteor hitting close to or the east of Hawaii (RIP Hawaiians)

I've said this recently but I think this shot, showing the earth getting wiped out in a fireball shockwave is of California's coast.

with the bright group at the bottom right being LA (where Claire lives) with the sticky out bit being Long Beach. and the bright group at the top being San Francisco with the blue strip being San Pablo Bay and San Francisco Bay

But my main reasoning (because this is a superhero show where u have to suspend ur disbelief) for why the moon wasn't the cause of the original apocalypse is this:

Vik didn't seem interested in ending the world. He was more interested in just playing in his orchestra until Luther and Diego tried to charge him.

He also doesn't do anything even related to the moon on purpose, rather he gets interrupted mid power use, seemingly causing his powers to rebound back into him which he is unable to contain/control causing all that pent up power to release in one strong stream. sort of like how water will, under pressure, release in a stream, but without it will trickle in the direction of least resistance.

In Five's apocalypse, Luther, Allison, Diego and Klaus all die fighting Leonard and Viktor before the world ends

so with Viktor (presumably, unless Leonard survived having his eye socket ripped from his skull) as the last man standing, there's nothing to stop him from finishing his orchestra. which is what I think caused the end of the world.

Viktor's powers are already active before the orchestra begins, his eyes are white. Then as the hargreeves attack he begins to glow as he uses his powers not just to repel them, but to force the orchestra players to stay. But nobody's attacking him when his powers bleach him white, something they never do again. All he's doing is playing the violin, particularly, he's building up to the crescendo, if not at the crescendo when this happens. And soon after than, his powers begin to build in the surrounding area, with visible waves emanating from him.

So what I think the series of events were leading up to the original apocalypse, without Five's interferrance:

Luther, Diego, Allison and Klaus all play Reginald's murder mystery

Leonard finds the Red Book and begins manipulating Viktor

Leonard kills Helen Cho and Viktor gets first chair

Leonard's plan to trigger Viktor's powers by forcing him to watch his boyfriend get beaten up works but causes him to lose an eye

Leonard gets a prosthetic eye fitted

Viktor and Leonard return home for whatever reason - possibly to confront the Umbrella's with Viktor's new powers and learn their part in the cover up

Leonard is very obviously manipulating Viktor and using him to attack the Umbrellas, possibly even revealing his true motives

A fight breaks out causing Luther to rip Leonard's eye from the socket and for Viktor to crumble the entire building and kill Luther, Diego, Allison and Klaus

Viktor, pissed and betrayed, continues to attend his orchestra

Viktor's emotions doubled with his sound-controlled powers cause him to accidentally overload and destroy the world, but not destroy the moon in the process

We've seen Viktor do something similar in s2, in the FBI building. And while he was able to recover and only destroy one building, it was still an uncontrolled blast of power which wasn't even aided by Viktor's violin, complete with bleaching and new flight abilities.

We've also seen Viktor's powers kill people without any real root cause, complete with burned out eye sockets and withering bodies

but each time we see this element of his powers, he's interrupted before he can finish, so potentially, prolonged exposure to his life draining power could cause someone to end up looking charred

(i personally think this body is leonard but that's neither here nor there)

whilst those who were already dead prior to the activation of Vik's energy draining beams, may not have taken much if any damage (as there is no life or ebbs of life left to take)

this also has the added bonus of not burning literally everything (the hargreeves' bodies included, as well as the multiple books and newspapers and the glass eye that Five owns in the apocalypse).

and without the asteroid impact there is no mega tsunami to worry about either (which, if it hit close to Hawaii, would flood the entire west coast of America at the very least.) no acid rain or nuclear winter obscuring the sun for years. no acidic oceans. and it won't take 1000 years for plants to come back (and seeing as Five is already seeing plants return a mere 45 years after, this kinda tracks).

so basically what I'm saying is, the apocalypse that Five grew up in is not the same apocalypse that Viktor caused at the end of s1. Five probably did have the moon present, which probably contributed to him not suspecting meteor or outer space origins for the apocalypse, but rather human based causes such as the owner of the eyeball.

[illuminatedquill]

Short Story Summary: Hera Syndulla arrives at Sabine and Ezra's comm tower to drop off the first print editions of their personal trading cards.

*For @alphaofdarkness and @jedi-nurse who inspired this with their conversations on the Discord server. Hope you like it.

Lothal, Early Morning - Sabine and Ezra's Comm Tower

The characteristic soft chime that played whenever someone was waiting below in the comm tower's courtyard alerted Ezra to their guest's presence. Setting down the data-pad he had been browsing through for the Holo-Net's daily news, he stood and walked over to a nearby monitor at the security station that had been recently installed by Sabine as a precaution.

After all, the last time a guest had arrived she had ended up with a lightsaber stabbed through her abdomen. It was not an experience she wished to repeat again.

Shooing a curious Murley off the console, he pushed a button. The monitor's screen lit up, showing the crisp image of the tower's courtyard - and the familiar face of their guest.

Smiling, he spoke into the intercom. "Hello, Hera."

The green-skinned Twi'lek smiled back and waved at the camera. Seeing her face, practically the same since he had first seen it over a decade ago, always filled Ezra with a sense of warmth and comfort. Hera had been a steady friend, mentor, and surrogate mother to him during the hectic early days of the Rebellion. She was the eternal bedrock of the Spectres, the foundation from which all of them had built their new lives upon.

He noted the casual outfit she wore today: not her usual flight uniform, but a fashionable beige sport jacket, dark brown tunic, slim, high waisted pants, complete with comfortable walking boots. Grasped in her hands was a slim, non-descript wooden case.

"Retirement looks good on you, General," he remarked.

Hera snorted. "Semi-retirement. I was practically forced into it by Leia. She was very insistent."

"It's well-deserved," he replied. "And long overdue."

"And boring," she retorted. "I need structure, Ezra. A mission."

He laughed. "So, you're hiring yourself out as a delivery service now?"

She scowled at him. "Gotta do something. I'm still helping people, at least."

"And not getting shot at or participating in dog fights with pirates is presumably a benefit, as well," Ezra added.

"Eh," she said, waving a careless hand. "I kind of miss it, sometimes."

Hera peered up at the camera. "Are you going to let me up or we just going to chit-chat like this all day? I've got other places to be, you know."

Ezra grinned and let her in.

The slim wooden case lay open on the worktable, revealing the contents within. Ezra peered over it, taking in the sight of what Hera had brought.

She sipped at a caf, a special blend of Hera's favorite flavors. "Thanks for this," she said gratefully.

"Of course," Ezra responded. He picked up one of the items within the wooden case and observed it more closely: a trading card, thin and metallic. With a sense of bemusement, he inspected the image of himself on it, conforming to what he had perceived at the time of the photoshoot to be a "heroic" pose: his lightsaber activated and held in a basic guard position.

There was at least a dozen more of these contained within the wooden case.

"Where's Sabine?" Hera asked.

Ezra nodded towards the section of the comm tower's interior, where the master bedroom was located. "Sleeping in. She just returned from Mandalore late last night."

"Busy days for her, huh," Hera said.

Ezra shrugged, still eyeing the trading card in his hand. "Bo needs her to keep the clans in line."

He shook his head. "I can't believe these are actually real. A Jedi on a trading card."

"Hey, don't knock it," Hera said. "Skywalker's got a bunch, too."

Ezra's eyes widened. "Luke? How did the New Republic convince him to do this?"

"Same way we did with you. He had similar concerns: that Jedi shouldn't be involved in this sort of publicity, even with benevolent intentions," Hera explained. She paused to take a brief sip of her caf before continuing. "To counter this, the government pitched that it was for historical purposes. It was a good way to get the young ones across the galaxy up to date with knowledge of galactic affairs and the people who shaped them."

He blinked, remembering the exact same explanation being given to him. "It's a little scary that they found a way to trick Jedi into this."

Hera shrugged. "You're both history nerds. And there's no harm in giving the kids heroes to root for. I think you both appreciate that fact."

Ezra studied the cards some more, smiling a little. Living as an orphan on the streets of Imperial controlled Lothal, he would have given anything to have a fun side hobby like that.

"Leia, her husband Han, Skywalker, and Lando all have their own trading cards, too," Hera commented. She reached down and plucked a card from within the wooden case. "Everyone in the Ghost crew, also. Me, Zeb, Kanan - even Chopper."

Ezra snorted. He glanced over at the trading card Hera was holding, this one featuring Sabine. She was wearing one of her go-to civilian outfits, her head encased in a speeder-bike helmet. The characteristic Sabine Wren smirk was also in vivid display, along with one other feature that immediately caught his attention.

He frowned. "That can't be recent," he said. "When did she grow out her hair?"

Hera turned to him, surprised. "Right," she said. "You weren't here to see that."

She offered him the trading card. Ezra took it, gazing softly down at the image of his wife.

"She's beautiful," was all he could say. He had only ever seen Sabine with short hair, a necessity with her Mandalorian helmet. Even when she had come to rescue him on Peridea, Sabine had worn a short pixie-style cut. Ezra had assumed that had been her style the entire time he had been gone.

The deep purple he remembered from Peridea was present, but it blended beautifully with the longer locks of burning red. It reminded him of the gouts of flame bursting forth he had seen in paintings of dying stars; the effect of her dye colors presented the look of pure starfire flowing down her shoulders.

"Yeah, Sabine had these done a while ago," Hera confirmed.

"But they're just being released now?" Ezra asked. "Why?"

She sighed. "It took quite a bit of convincing for Sabine to acquiesce to this decision. You know how she is with public facing stuff like this."

Ezra winced, imagining the conversations between Sabine and the New Republic officials to be short and one-sided. Despite her brash exterior, he knew his wife to be an immensely private person, preferring to keep out of the public eye.

"I finally got her to agree, but Sabine would only do it on two conditions: first, that she would have a say in how the cards were designed. If her face was going to be on them, she wanted to ensure that the cards were artistically up to her standards."

Ezra smiled slightly. Sounds like her, he thought. Art was Sabine's first love, before she met him. She would want to make sure that the artwork showcased on the trading cards was befitting of the heroes they featured.

"What was the second condition?" he asked.

Hera cocked her head at him, her eyes suddenly wistful. "That her trading cards would only be sold as a set, not to be separated for any reason."

Ezra's brow furrowed. "She wanted her card to be permanently paired up with another?"

"Yes, Ezra," said Hera quietly. "Yours."

His eyes widened at the revelation.

"That's why hers are only being released now," continued Hera. "She was waiting for you."

Ezra was silent, looking over the cards: his and Sabine's, paired together.

Not to be separated for any reason.

He coughed, trying to clear the sudden lump in his throat. Hera clapped him on the shoulder.

"I think they look better together," she observed wryly. "Don't you?"

Ezra smiled; his eyes were moist with emotion. "Yeah," he agreed. "They do."

Sabine wandered out of the bedroom a little after mid-day. Her hair was sticking up on one end; eyes still bleary from the long sleep, she shuffled over to the couch and sat down next to Ezra.

"Had a good sleep?" he asked her.

She laid her head onto his shoulder. "Mmmmm. First soft bed in weeks. Heavenly isn't strong enough to describe it."

He kissed her head softly. "Is Mandalore still doing alright? No one's gunning for another civil war? "

"Yeah, clan meeting went nice and smoothly," she replied drowsily. "Boring."

Ezra chuckled, strongly reminded of Hera's same response earlier this morning.

"Sounds like progress," he mused.

She shifted her head on his shoulder, moving into a more comfortable position. "Heard you talking with someone. Was it Hera?"

He nodded. Sabine grimaced. "You should have woken me up, goober."

"You were tired. Hera didn't mind. Said she'll call later, to catch up with you."

Sabine didn't argue back, which was an indication of just how exhausted she still was. "What did she want?"

Ezra produced from his pocket the trading cards. "She was dropping these off."

His wife sneaked a glance at them and let out a surprised breath. "Karabast," she muttered. "I forgot these were a thing."

"Freshly minted, first edition," he bragged. "Super rare and valuable, I'm told."

She snorted. "Whatever. We should sell them and buy tickets to a star cruise."

Setting the cards down on the worktable, Ezra grinned and hugged his wife close. "I'm also told," he said gently, "that ours are not to be sold separately."

Sabine went quiet.

He reached over and laced his hand in hers. "It's very thoughtful of you," he whispered. "Thank you."

She squeezed his hand back. "We're a package deal, Ezra. I don't want anyone separating us ever again. Even in something as silly as trading cards."

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: BEN SHIMONI

Full English text of this sign about Ben at the bottom of the page

Ben Shimoni, 31, was celebrating peace at the Nova music festival in southern Israel on October 7, 2023 when the event came under massive terrorist attack by a barbaric well-armed horde of killers and rapists. Amid carnage and chaos, Ben dodged bullets to reach his car and then picked up four strangers. He maneuvered their way out of the festival site and drove thirty minutes to Beersheba, where his passengers got out of the car. To their shock, Ben said he was going back to rescue more people. They tried desperately to change his mind but Ben turned the car around and headed back to hell. 

Ben was very familiar with the roads around the festival area because he spent his childhood in Gaza. Ben lived in Gush Katif, a tight-knit, warm community of Jews. In 2005, when Ben was only 13, his idyllic life was hideously disrupted when his family and all the other Jews in Gush Katif were forcibly ejected by their own government in a tragically misguided attempt to conciliate the Palestinians. Families who’d harvested land and built businesses over a lifetime had to hand it all over to their enemies. The Palestinians immediately destroyed the farms and factories, elected Hamas and began building terror tunnels to kill Jews. Now 18 years later, paragliding terrorists on a mission of destruction were at the Nova music festival and Ben was on a mission of his own: to rescue as many people as possible. 

Like a firefighter rushing into a burning building, Ben drove into a field that was still under massive attack. He immediately filled his car with five more terrified strangers, and drove them to safety in Beersheba. This group, too, was shocked because once again, after reaching safety, Ben chose to go back to the festival site. He’d already saved nine lives but made one more desperate and valiant attempt. He picked up three frantic girls and almost got away until they were stopped at a checkpoint manned by heavily armed soldiers. Ben’s girlfriend Jessica Elter was on the phone with him and heard what happened next. Jessica told the Jewish Chronicle: “Suddenly I heard Ben asking, confused but not afraid, if some people in the road were Hamas terrorists or Israeli police. I heard the girls in the back screaming and pleading with Ben at the top of their lungs to ‘Drive, drive, drive.’ I heard a lot of yelling in Arabic and a big crash, some shooting and, after a minute of quiet the phone just hung up.”

Ben’s car was later found riddled with bullets but empty and he was initially classified as missing. However after five days Ben’s family was notified that his body had been identified, some distance from the car. Nearby was the body of the girl who’d been in the passenger seat. They had both been shot. The two girls who were in the back of the car have never been found and are presumed to be hostages in Gaza. Jessica is praying for their rescue and hoping to learn more from them about Ben’s final minutes.

Jessica says that Ben’s heroic self-sacrifice to save at least nine other people was completely in character. “He was shy, loyal, very honest with every person he met, and never said no to someone in need. He always put others before himself, truly. He had the best heart ever. And the thing he did that morning testifies to the person he was.” Jessica and Ben had attended several previous Nova festivals. Jessica would have been at that one too, except that she had recently grown more religious and stayed home to observe Shabbat.

Ben was a successful businessman who worked in the restaurant industry and appreciated the Israeli night life scene. His brother Avinoam remembers that Ben “loved life. Loved cars, traveling and parties. Always puts himself last and wants to help, so it’s not surprising that the last action he did in his life was trying to rescue his friends from hell.” 

Israeli band Synergia released a song based on a poem written about Ben Shimoni. It begins, “Who is the person who goes back into hell, a moment after he escaped?”

At the Nova festival site, Ben’s loved ones put up a sign about Ben’s life and his heroic actions on October 7, 2023. May his memory always be for a blessing and may his soul have a great elevation!

Full text about Ben (from the blue sign in the image above) at the memorial site, written by his family:

Ben Binyamin Shimon was the first born son to parents Pnina and Rafi Shimoni after many efforts to bring children into the world. Ben has younger twin brothers, Avinoam and Chai, and Chai has special needs. The three of them grew up in Dugit of Gush Katif near the sea. Following the Israeli disengagement from Gaza, Ben’s parents Pnina and Rafi divorced. Ben moved to the north with his father, and two years later, his brother Avinoam joined him, spending their teenage years there together. After completing his military service, both Ben and his father decided to leave the north and move to Modiin to start a business together, which led Ben into the world of business and back to the south. In recent years, Ben moved back to live with his mother and brother Chai in their home in Ashkelon. Later on, his partner Jessica also joined them. Ben always loved extreme sports, cars, and motorcycle racing. His friends and close-knit family were his whole world.

He was always ready to help, even when not asked. Ben loved to celebrate life and live in the moment; nightlife and parties were an integral part of his life. He owned several businesses related to food and nightlife.

In the last few months of his life, he decided to leave these businesses and began working as a sous- chef with his good friend Matan Zafrir at the Pitmaster restaurant in Petah Tikva, with a bright future ahead in the industry. His coworkers recount that they had never met a more professional, caring, and dedicated person than him. 

That Saturday, Ben decided to stay home for the second holiday of Sukkot, a decision that, as it turned out later, saved his mother and brother Chai from traveling to celebrate at the home of their friend from Dugit, Tova Goren, who lived in Kfar Aza and was murdered in her home along with her daughter Eran.

On October 7th, in the early morning hours, Ben left for the Nova festival, where he met up with his friends Tom Peretz and Michal Ohana. His partner Jessica, who was inseparable from him, surprisingly decided to stay home that evening with his mother and brother Chai. When the attack began, Ben immediately called his mother to inform her that there were rockets and to wake up Jessicaand take everyone to the safe room (bomb shelter).

Ben wasn’t afraid of the rockets; he got in his car and started to flee. He knew the area well, having grown up there and served there during his military service. Ben was an experienced driver and knew how to navigate the roads of the Gaza envelope. At the beginning of the journey, he picked up four passengers he didn’t know; Jude Kotler, Amit Shalit, Mashi Lindner, and Tal Gozal. From their testimonies, we understand that Ben quickly grasped the situation and did everything to calm them down and bring them to safety.

He rescued them to Be’er Sheva. On his way there, he contacted his father, who lives in Be’er Sheva, and asked if he could bring them to his house.

His father was at work in Omer (another city in the South) and told Ben to come and get the key. Ben realized this would delay him and decided to drop them off at a house he didn’t know at the entrance to Be’er Sheva. There, they begged him to stay with them and not return to the festival area, but he was determined to save his friends who were still there. That morning, during the rescues, Ben managed to speak with his friends and family. Everyone had the chance to talk to him; his father Rafi, his mother Pnina, his brother Avinoam, and his girlfriend Jessica.

They were all proud of him for saving people, and asked him to come home and not return to the area of the festival. However, Ben was determined to save his friends. He returned and managed to save another eight people he didn’t know to the Netivot area. Only ten months later we were connected with these people and learned that they were physically healthy but not mentally. Afterward, he returned to the festival area for a second time in hopes of finding his friends Tom and Michal, even though they told him not to come.

Nevertheless, he drove to the last location they sent him. But when he arrived at the location, Tom and Michal were no longer there (probably because their phone battery died, and they had already moved to their next hiding place). Today Tom and Michal are safe and sound. At that time, Ben knew that Gaya Halifa (Z”L), who worked with him at the Pitmaster, was also at the festival, so he contacted her and understood she was in danger. He asked her to send him her location. Gaya was with her friend Romi Gonen; they were hiding from the terrorists’ gunfire in a small bush near the Re’im parking lot.

Gaya sent Ben the location, and along with it, she wrote, “Don’t come; there are gunshots.” Despite this, Ben chose to look for them. He found them and got them into his car. In addition to them, Ben saw Ofir Tzarfati (Z’L) and offered him to join them in the car. Ofir had just made sure that his friends and girlfriend were rescued into another car and there was no space for him to go with them, so he joined Ben’s car.The four of them began driving towards Ashkelon on Road 232. Gaya managed to speak with her father, Avi and tell him that Ben rescued them and they were on their way out, asking him to pick her up from Ashdod. Romi texted her friends and family that a friend of Gaya’s from work (Ben) came to rescue them and that they were on their way out. After a short drive of a few kilometers at a crazy speed, during which Ben was on the phone with Jessica, he told her that he saw figures ahead and asked, “Are they terrorists? Arabs?” Immediately after, Jessica heard gunfire and screams. At 10:12 AM, at the Alumim Junction, they encountered an ambush by terrorists who slaughtered them.

The car stopped, and Ben and Gaya were murdered on the spot. Ofir and Romi were injured and half an hour later, kidnapped to Gaza. All this was recorded on a phone call between Romi and her mother, Mirav. After 54 days, we learned that Ofir was murdered in captivity at Shifa Hospital, and his body was found and returned for burial in Israel. As of today (ten months after October 7th, at the time of this writing), Romi is still held captive by Hamas, and we all pray for her safe return to her family, healthy in body and soul. Ben and Gaya were declared missing for five days. After extensive searches and understanding that something terrible had happened, we hoped that perhaps they were injured or even kidnapped, but the bitter news came. Ben planned to continue living life to the fullest and build his life his way, but fate chose for him to die a hero. Ben left behind a grieving family, friends, and a girlfriend who miss him, are proud of him, and love him deeply.

[arcane-ish]

Stealing conversation from @blood-starved-beast

I think the Vander comparison comes from the fact that Jinx's actions specifically benefit the people. She is taking shots at Piltover, she's winning. She's hitting them where they hurt and they're scrambling.

Silco, for all his talk of the Nation of Zaun, never in his reign gets to that. He makes a deal with the Enforcers, floods the Lanes with Shimmer, and buddies up with the Chembarons. The average folk are still struggling, more stronger people are still bullying them, and the exceptionally poor are addicts. This is not a man of the people, this is a bully, a dictator even (hence the Caitlyn parallels go here). And he even got powers on high with support seeing as he buddied with Marcus to get the Top Spot.

I just feel like we still know so little about what Vander's revolution actually looked like, what he actually did. Like when I picture it, because of all the references to the mines, I tend to picture him maybe organizing a miner's strike as a way to getting his feet wet organizing people.

And we know he presumably at some point collected a crowd that marched on the bridge which went terribly.

So what exactly is his positive reputation based on?

After Vander stopped revolution-izing, he did more community building, more like Ekko really. But that's exactly the non-revolution behavior that got Sevika to turn on him.

At the same time, we know that Vander collected protection money, just like Silco. Something that Ekko presumably doesn't do.

It doesn't look like Vander was particularly lining his pockets, so maybe his positive reputation is based on that he collected the money and spread it around, very redistribution or take from the richer and give to the poorer. while Silco used the money more to buy weapons, build up infrastructure like Remi's factory.

I've been really thinking a lot about something Christian Linke said (btw, it cracks me up that his name is literally "The Left", there's even a political in germany by that name) recently about Sevika and Jinx teaming it. It appears that they want the undercity to do well but Silco stood in the way of that (?).

Source

But that kind of goes into how both Vander and Silco stopped their immediate violent revolution goals and made deals with the cops, presumably in the interest of their children.

In the end we don't know still what Silco's plan really was, why he abandoned what seemed to be his original plan to produce a lot of Shimmer beasts.

Now I think there is value in both their approaches, in Vander creating maybe a community that inspires affection and idealism (into the extent that it still carries the Firelights) and in Silco building up infrastructure.

In the end, Remi creates the chem tech goons that can put up a fight against hextech (which wasn't even around back then) even if they likely come at the cost of not just child labor but also child experiments.

I also read some interesting speculation that maybe Silco had a deal with Noxus and that's why he pushed Jinx so hard to weaponize hextech, maybe he wanted forge a better deal with the Noxians. Or maybe his plan shifted from violent overthrowing to a diplomatic and economic victory. Become good enough at business/capitalism that you can squeeze Piltover economically and force them to give you independence.

Basically, I get why Silco might not inspire the kind of admiration that Vander did. Even if he might have laid important ground work. I just feel still kind of fuzzy on what Vander did to inspire this positive image in his revolution times when the writers say over and over that he used to do violent shit.

Like we can guess he might have been a pit fighter too and gotten his nickname like that. And he probably risked people's lives by sending them to the bridge fight. But what else?

That's why I kind of love the idea that maybe Vander and Silco also fucked with the ventilation system and that's what Sevika referred to when she talks about fighting in the fissures.

BTW, shoutout to my girl Sevika, who has the right ideals, is super capable, but it appears that she apparently forever lacks the people skills to lead the revolution herself and that's why she's stuck trying to follow around and cheerlead other people who do the whole inspire the masses thing only to have them end up dawdling.

(and it would be pure irony if Jinx gets put in the same situation, okay, I should be leading this revolution, but I got this kid now that depends on me ...)

[zeroaddzero]

Top 10 Horniest Bruce Springsteen songs, ranked

Yes there are more horny Bruce songs. Too many horny songs for one list. I don’t know if his game was good because he knew how to write horny songs, or if his game inspired him to write horny songs. Either way, we’ve been blessed musically with a lot of horny songs. Here’s the horny songs I managed to fit into a (very biased) list:

1.  I'm On Fire

THE horny Bruce song. A fever fantasy of a wet dream smushed into one moaning, sweaty mess. Before I was a fan, this (coupled with the below performance) was the song that made me go "OH. I get it now."

Spotify LINK

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head Only you can cool my desire

2.  Pink Cadillac

About as subtle as Lady Gaga’s “Disco Stick.” Even better paired with the BITUSA tour intro (said intro got noticeably more sexual after Bruce got married in 1985).

Spotify LINK

They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple But man I an’t goin for that I know it was her pink Cadillac

3. Fire

Originally written for Elvis, the bass line alone for this #problematic 70s “don't play coy with me” number will make you reconsider feminism for 5 minutes. The 1986 performance is downright NSFW.

Spotify LINK

You had a hold on me right from the start A grip so tight I couldn't tear it apart

4. The Fever

Bruce is king of the “lying in bed thinking of how horny this person makes me” genre, and this is one of his finest examples. At almost 8 minutes, it’s the tantric equivalent to the more concentrated "I’m on Fire". Anybody noticing a “burning” theme here?

Spotify LINK

Well now the day grows longer The love just grows stronger, baby And the fever gets so bad at night I got the fever for the girl

5. Because The Night

Bruce never finished the lyrics, and this song arguably belongs to Patti Smith now. Bruce has even said as much. However, I am biased and enjoy this banger too much to let technicalities get in the way of horny. On the list it goes.

Spotify LINK

Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us

6. Red Headed Woman

I'm Going Down may seem raunchy until you realise it's about a bad breakup. For the other thing, we have this entry. Folks, this song is literally about eating pussy. Bruce even introduced it as such during his Ghost of Tom Joad tour. I’ve yet to recover from the whiplash of hearing him say the word “cunnilingus” while performing at his old Catholic high school.

Spotify LINK

Well listen up stud Your life's been wasted 'Til you've been down on your knees and tasted A red headed woman

7. She's The One

Speculated to have been written about the violinist who played on the album Born To Run, this tune shows our boy is down baaad. Best paired with the excellent "Mona" intro, which is included in the Houston '78 live performance below.

Spotify LINK

With her killer graces and her secret places That no boy can fill with her hands on her hips Oh and that smile on her lips Because she knows that it kills me

8. Part Man, Part Monkey

My Tunnel of Love tour knowledge is woefully lacking despite the tour being his most explicit, and the accompanying album being in my top 3. In the eyes of the public, Bruce was still with his first wife when this video was shot in 1988. Only the band knew he was recently separated, so imagine watching a presumably married man on stage eye-fucking his backup singer. The gossip mill must have been insane after each show.

Spotify LINK

Well the night is dark, the moon is full The flowers of romance exert their pull We talk awhile, my fingers slip I'm hard and crackling like a whip

9. Crush On You

Another genre this Jersey dude excels at is “horny to the point of funny.” Bruce himself has called it "the worst song we ever put on a record" but hey, what does he know.

Spotify LINK

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give 'Cause she's a walking talking reason to live

10. Cover Me

I just realised this is only one of four songs on this list included on an official Springsteen album (if you don't count the outtake compilations.) And how fitting it is to start and end this list with Paris '85 concert footage!

Spotify LINK

Now promise me baby you won't let them find us Hold me in your arms, let's let our love blind us Cover me, shut the door and cover me I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me

Honourable mentions (song/album):

Rosalita / The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle Candy's Room / Darkness on the Edge of Town Ramrod / The River Cindy / The River (outtakes) Ain’t got you / Tunnel of Love The Fuse / The Rising

Let me know if you think I missed any! I won't change the list, but more horny song discourse is always good.