#it's 1:45 a.m.

[h0ped3lusion]

I can't help but let my attention roam towards v1, v2, and Gabriel's wings whenever I see art of them. They're so... beautiful, so heavenly (pun intended), almost.. mesmerizing to me.

[multifandomhallucinations]

i xant sleep and ive been inspired

i know what we're doing tonight (watch me die /j) - alex/topaz

[rabbitindisguise]

I played too many videogames and it aggravated my mental illness so I put a bunch of irl events in my calendar and I'm normal(er) now

[bluesey-182]

"oh i only have 17 pages left in this book, how long could that possibly take me?" APPARENTLY NEARLY AN ENTIRE GODDAMN HOUR (i was taking notes on it)

[harmonyunitedgainesville]

Mental Health Services For Adults in Altamonte Springs, Florida | Psychiatric Medication Management Near Me in Altamonte Springs, FL

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[suskz]

Saw jockchan x nerd reader. I was wondering if you could write something about swim captain Chan x quiet female reader ?

pairing: SwimCaptain!Chan x Quiet!fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; semi-public sex ; secret relationship ; oral (f!rec) ; jealousy ; exhibitionism kink (but no exhibitionism) ; unprotected sex (be smarter, don’t do that).

w/c: around 1,8k

a/n: It’s 1:45 a.m. here, I’m going to sleep now. Hope you like it! ♡

18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There are 25 minutes left until the end of the training session when you arrive.

"Come see me at training today, it will bring me luck for tomorrow’s championship." This was his sweet request this afternoon, and you naturally said yes; it's just a pity that you arrived an hour late.

Your quick steps to take a seat in the stands can’t be heard by the guys as they talk near the pool, but Chan notices you the moment you enter.

His head turns in your direction and he smiles at you, waving a hand at you. You do the same, returning the greeting.

Immediately, his eyes shift to Changbin and Jisung though, members of the team, who seem to be arguing, and he approaches them.

It doesn’t take you long to understand that they were arguing about who is the fastest swimmer of the two, as shortly after they are giving each other challenging looks as they get into position and enter the water when Chan gives them the signal.

You like seeing him in leader mode in moments like this. It’s extremely hot, but also really cute when he turns in your direction to look at you, shaking his head in exasperation, making you giggle.

But your attention shifts a little further away from you when you hear a girl speaking.

"Did you see him? Now you can’t say he isn’t gorgeous." One of the two girls says to the other.

“He’s freaking perfect, oh my God,” the other girl comments. “What did you say his name was?”

“Bang Chan; I’ll give you his Instagram.”

Your teeth clench at the last sentence. Are they talking about Chan? Your Chan?

The same Chan who kisses, fucks, and cuddles you every day?

You briefly consider letting them know. You should turn to them and tell them to their faces, but there’s something holding you back, keeping you still. And this thing prohibits you from letting them know how things really are, so you sit there in silence, enduring their annoying compliments about him for what feels like endless minutes.

Yes, his body and muscles are stunning. Yes, his voice is sensual and his laugh is sweet. Yes, he has an irresistible gaze. Do they really need to keep repeating that?

When the training ends and you think you’ve finally gotten rid of them, they’re in front of him before you can make a move.

You watch them from afar, standing and waiting, trying to appear as normal and indifferent as possible while they congratulate the captain for his hard work as a leader. Ah, and also for his hard work in the gym.

He chuckles with his dimples showing, first shaking his hands in front of himself in a gesture of denial, but ending up scratching the back of his neck as he thanks them cordially. The two girls look at each other and giggle.

But a few minutes later, it’s you who finds yourself in the locker room with him, his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, feverish and needy.

“Were you jealous?” He grins teasingly, but deep down he feels immense tenderness and perhaps a little embarrassment knowing that you love him so much that you can’t stand other girls complimenting him in that way.

You don’t respond, looking at his bare chest and hoping he’ll stop.

His smile grows, “I saw how you were looking at them, your eyes were burning flames.” He stifles a chuckle as you raise your head with a guilty expression.

“Was I that obvious?” You ask, your cheeks starting to blush, embarrassed by your exaggerated reaction.

“Yes, but I like it.” He leans in to kiss you again, but soon his hands slip under your shirt and you break the kiss.

“Chan, we can’t do this here.” you whisper against his lips. All the other guys from the team are just meters away, taking a shower. You risk being heard, and you don’t want that to happen.

“But I need you now.” he whispers on your neck, starting to leave warm, wet kisses.

You don’t respond, but you tilt your head to give him more space and don’t stop him, and he takes this action as agreement.

He licks and sucks on a patch of your skin, leaving a red mark that will be prominently displayed for days. He might get completely hard just at the thought of you walking around with the mark of his presence on your body, even if others don’t know whose it is.

He pulls away and admires it, then gives it one final kiss, making you hiss from the slight pain.

Needy, his hand grabs yours and pulls you into the bathroom. You don’t resist; you follow him, silent, and together you enter one of the showers, closing the curtain. The one in the corner, with an empty shower next to it.

And then, Chan turns on the water, wetting both of you, although not completely.

“Chan, you finally came in, why did it take you so long?” Changbin yells from a few showers away.

“I just had a moment with Y/n.” Chan responds casually, as if he weren’t currently lowering your shorts and underwear at the same time.

“Oh, she’s already gone?” This time it’s Jisung’s voice.

“Yeah, she went back to the dorm.”

There’s something, something that arouses both of you at the idea that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing while his friends are there, just meters away from you, unaware.

His fingers move skilfully between your folds, rubbing your clit with one finger quickly while two of his other fingers hold your pussy lips open as your hips move back and forth instinctively.

When his fingers enter your cunt, they do so easily from how wet you are and from all the times his cock has been inside you.

You take his face in your hands to bring your lips closer to his ear so you can talk to him, “We don’t have time, put it in already.” You whisper, and his cock twitches in the tight shorts he’s wearing, reminding him of how damn tight they feel.

He withdraws his fingers and turns you around, replacing them with his dick, entering you slowly to allow you to more easily suppress any sounds that could be heard by the others.

His hands hold the lower parts of your cheeks to spread them apart to get in deeper as he moves inside you. It’s not the best position, but you can’t bend over because you’d risk slipping.

Your moans are silent. Your heavy breaths are fortunately hard to hear with the shower water running and their voices humming.

Chan tries not to fuck you too hard to avoid the sound of your skins slapping together. Because you’re not alone, and no one must hear you. Even though, maybe, he actually wants someone to hear you. He wants someone to find out about the dirty things you’re doing without their knowledge, right there near them. Maybe he secretly wishes someone would open the shower curtain and see you in this situation.

And maybe you want it too.

But these thoughts don’t stop both of you from freezing at the sudden sound of Hyunjin’s voice. “Does anyone have shower gel?”

His movements pause only for a moment. He should feel embarrassed, mortified to hear his friend’s voice so close to you in such a situation, but instead, it sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock, and he immediately starts moving again.

You look at him with an expression now fearful, but this arouses you as much as it does him.

Jeongin’s voice is quick to respond, “I do, here it is.”

“Thanks Jeonginnie, love you.” Hyunjin thanks him in his sweet voice.

Chan pulls out of you, but before you have time to say anything, he turns you around, grabs your thighs from behind, and lifts you, pushing you against the wall. His arms slide under your knees and spread you open, re-entering you.

“That’s better.” he whispers against your lips, and you nod in agreement with quick breaths.

The pleasure intensifies for both of you. A soft moan escapes his lips, not being able to hold it back, causing him to bite his lower lip and hide his face on your shoulder, his ears turning redder as he failed to contain his pleasure.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling strands, causing his hips to buck up in a harder thrust, making your head slide back against the shower tiles.

It’s at this moment that the others start coming out of the showers, and soon they are out of the locker room after greeting Chan and telling him to hurry up.

When everyone is out, you both look at each other, then chuckle.

“I couldn’t hold back anymore.” you admit.

“Me neither.” he says.

“I noticed.” you tease, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows in an offended look.

You clench around him on purpose, eliciting a needy moan from his lips. In response, he thrusts into you, and this time it’s you who whines.

“You’re as needy as I am.” he grins, resuming his movements. This time you’re a bit freer to let out your voice, but you need to hurry. His thrusts are faster now, reaching deeper spots inside you, being able to fuck you harder, eliciting a series of staccato moans from you.

“Touch yourself.” he orders and you immediately obey, without needing to be told twice.

His movements become more erratic. He’s close, and you can tell by the way his cock twitches inside you and releases small droplets of pre-cum.

His moans grow deeper, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold back from coming with all the self-control he has to make you reach your climax too, with him. But it’s difficult for him, and soon he has you back on your feet, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking his cock quickly through his orgasm.

He tries not to throw his head back in pleasure, wanting to see the ropes of his hot cum covering your pussy and thighs as you stand there with trembling legs.

Your mind is still fogged with pleasure, and you don’t notice what’s happening until you feel his tongue on your clit, which makes you let out a whimper. You look down to see your boyfriend on his knees with his head between your legs, looking up at you.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he pulls away, “You need to come quickly, someone will be coming for spot checks soon.” He warns you before returning with his tongue between your folds and two fingers inside you, stroking at your sensitive spot.

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 3

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: another part out! it's a tad bit lengthy, so sorry about that! i also wanna apologize about how crazy the taglist looks (im so sorry). it wasnt letting me tag yall so i just spaced it out to make sure yall get alerted. if anyone has advise on how to fix that, pls let me know

all parts: pt.1, pt.2,

December | Tokyo, Japan | 4:45 A.M

It was finally Thursday, and you were spending your early morning tangoing with your vacuum. 

Despite doing a deep clean yesterday after work, your paranoia was over the roof. Nanami’s visit consumed you like a parasite, with nothing relieving your nerves. Even the sun could not bear witness to your franticness as you long turned on all the lights and began your cleaning venture. You didn’t want to risk Nanami calling you a slob if he saw even one wrapper on the floor. Nanami was quite the meticulous man after all, his eyes containing radars for this kind of stuff. 

As you began to dust your already dusted coffee table, you quickly grabbed your phone and dialed Haibara’s number. After a few rings, you hear a click and  groaning sound. “Nnnmmm… who?” He barely whispers. 

“Yu, get up!” You hiss. Haibara and you have long established your friendship, backing up your ability to drop honorifics. “I need your help, and now.” 

“Y/N?” He groans out. You hear some shuffling before a long period of silence. You continue to clean while Haibara tries waking up again. ���It’s not even 6… why?” Though his voice was deep and hoarse from exhaustion, he sounded nothing less than a child complaining about waking up early to go to school. 

You huff, “don’t you remember? I texted you after work that Nanami is coming to my house today– in like an hour!” 

“‘n why does this have to do with me?” His voice sounded scratchy from the speaker of the phone. 

“What should I do? What kind of couches does he like? House smells?” 

“Y/N, it’s too early for this,” Haibara says through a yawn. “You wouldn’t even be able to buy another couch, even if you wanted to. No furniture store is open at this time.” 

You try to continue the conversation, but you were met with snores in response. Hanging up the phone, you let out a sigh. Nanami was coming over for work, not to criticize your home designing choices. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your cheeks tingle from embarrassment. “What am I doing?” You murmur to yourself. There truly was no need to be nervous. This was not a date. 

Even so… 

You spent the rest of your morning prior to your shift making sure you looked nice. You style your hair neatly, drape on a comfortable jumpsuit (despite Nanami’s comforting words in regards to you wearing pajamas during his visit), and begin working on coffee. You had managed to ask Tae (your newly hired corporate barista) for some instruction on how he makes Nanami’s favorite coffee. You certainly questioned the ingredients and methods, but you continued to follow the instructions. As you were pouring skimmed milk into black coffee, a gentle knock was heard at your front door. 

Your heart threatened to escape against your chest. You quickly give yourself a look in your hallway mirror before rushing to the door. Shaky hands sheepishly unlock the door, introducing you to a Nanami you have never seen before. 

Here he was before you, in a trenchcoat, black crewneck and black joggers. His eyes revealed his true exhaustion, with his under eyes slightly darker than usual. His hair was not parted from the side, but rather slicked back and wet as you assumed he showered before arriving at your place. True to the weather, his cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold. You saw him let out a relieving sigh when introduced to the warmth of your home. 

“Goodmorning Y/N,” Nanami hums, his voice hoarse from not being 100% awake. His hands were loaded with his briefcase and a big bag. Judging from the smell, it was the breakfast that Nanami promised he’d buy. 

Your mouth felt dry in awe, “good morning to you as well, Nanami. Let me take your coat for you.” 

“Ah, I’d hate to get your hands cold,” Nanami waives your offer. He puts down his things gently, being mindful of the breakfast. He begins to strip off his coat, and carefully hangs it on the rack by the door. “It’s unforgiving out there.” 

There were snowflakes on his eyelashes, “is it snowing hard out there? I haven’t pulled the curtains yet.” 

Nanami smiles and nods, giving his head a little shake to remove the remaining snow from his head, “I’m glad I didn’t invite you to my house instead. Otherwise, you’d be freezing like me.” 

You burn up, and quickly gesture to the slippers on the floor. “P-please feel free to get comfortable in the living room! I have the heat in there.”

He bows curtly, “thank you for having me.” You watch as the tall man walks towards your living room, taking a seat on the bigger of the two couches. You rush into your room and retrieve two blankets. Joining Nanami in the living room, you offer him your warmest quilt. 

“This’ll keep you warm while you’re here,” you hum. Nanami takes your offer and spreads the blanket over his legs. You see him shiver a bit before getting cozy in the blanket. 

“You’re too kind of a host,” Nanami expresses his gratitude once more. He then eyes around before chuckling, “ah, I left our breakfast and my laptop at the front–” 

“I’ll get it!” You jump at your words, quickly retrieving the items. You pass him his briefcase, and take the breakfast to your kitchen counter. “I wrote my wifi password on the table, please feel free to connect to it. A-and…” 

You walk over to your coffee maker, and lift up the mug of coffee you prepared for him. You carefully hold it with two hands, making a slow walk towards Nanami. He quickly understands, and raises his hands as high and close to yours as possible while remaining seated on the couch. Cold fingertips brush against your knuckles. He holds it delicately, his eyes narrowing down at the froth at the top. “Is this…?” 

“Your favorite coffee,” you say quietly. You look away shyly, hoping he didn’t see your nerves in your face. “I asked our recently hired barista how he usually makes your cup of coffee when I went to offer him the position. And so… yeah.” You shuffle in your place, waiting for Nanami to take a sip. But your nerves get to you first and stab at your calm facade, “andifyoudon’tlikeit,I’llbuyonefromoutside–”

Nanami takes a big swig from the hot brew, his Adams Apple protruding his throat from each gulp. A drip of coffee decorates his bottom lip, threatening to either drop on his pants, or begin its slide down his chin. He puts the mug down on one of the coasters of the coffee table and drags his sleeved wrist against his lips. “Y/N,” he emits slowly. “That was… very delicious.” 

You could melt right then and there. “R-really?” You felt the bubbles in your words. You were practically floating like one! His reassuring smile made your heart skip several beats. “I would never, ever judge you, but I didn’t realize that fig could work with coffee.” 

Nanami smiles warmly, his eyes wistful with nostalgia. He takes out his laptop and turns it on, rubbing the mousepad aimlessly with the tip of his index. “I was addicted to sweets, if that surprises you,” Nanami recounts fondly. “My mom was frustrated, unable to really keep sweets away from me. She was too nice, and would submit whenever I asked for a candy bar at the market.”

You giggle a bit, your hand covering your lips to mask the smile you had. “It’s crazy to think that you, Nanami, would be a sugarhead.” 

Nanami lets out a light chuckle, “surely, I like sweets every now and then. Just… in moderation. My mother was the catalyst for the dent in my sweet tooth. She stopped adding sugar in my tea. Rather, she would add half a fig into my cup, and pour the hot tea over it.” 

From the memory, your body suddenly felt warm and cozy. Imagining the combination of a fresh fig with green tea being poured over it… it was quite soothing. “It sounds like she was a lovely mother,” you hum. Your smile widened when seeing Nanami’s hazel eyes warm from the recollection. “What made you decide to add fig into your coffee instead?” 

Nanami shrugged, “nostalgia, I suppose. It doesn’t offer the coffee much of a sweetener, but you can definitely taste it. I suppose the memory is what makes it sweet.” 

You were floating. Being able to speak to Nanami like this– it felt like everything. You two don’t hang outside of work, besides holiday parties or work trips. Even then, all these activities are imbued with your job. Although Nanami was in your house to work with you, it felt different. The two of you can speak freely without eyes constantly flickering to you. As you were lost in your thoughts, Nanami cleared his throat. 

“Please feel free to clock in and start eating,” Nanami hums. He adjusts the blanket to cover his feet. “Today's work isn’t too crazy, and I’d rather you feel full and awake.” 

You take kindly to his consideration and return to the kitchen. You take a platter plate and begin to unload the bag of breakfast he picked up. You start taking out several breakfast sandwiches, your eyes wide at how many there were in that bag. “Nanami… how many did you get?” You exclaim, holding one sandwich in each hand. He looks over at you and smirks amusingly. 

“I didn’t know what you liked,” Nanami said, his smile still being tickled from your shock. “I just got one of everything.” 

You smile from his smile, and begin to stack the individually stacked sandwiches on the platter. Leaving the one you want on the counter, you bring the sandwiches near him on the coffee table. You look down at his mug, the coffee-soaked half-fig sat in the center of it. “Would you like another cup?” You offer kindly. 

His eyes meet yours, and after a pause, he nods slowly. You grab his mug and go over to the kitchen to prepare another cup. As you did, you decided to make two cups of his favorite coffee. The curiosity picked at you– you wanted to know what Nanami’s favorite coffee tastes like. As you prepared it, Nanami was tapping away at his computer. You tap on your phone to check the time, and realize you need to clock in now. Once you do that, you check your calendar and turn to look at Nanami. 

“You have a meeting in 15 minutes with the head of Sales and Strategy,” you remind him. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” Nanami hums from your couch, “I got so into responding to emails, I definitely would have forgotten. So, thank you again.” 

“Of course!” You chime. With both coffees done, you bring both of the mugs over to the coffee table and quickly go back to fetch your breakfast sandwich. You begin to strip the parchment paper from the sandwich and begin to eat it in the kitchen, with a few crumbs falling on the granite top. You walk over to the smaller sofa and set down your breakfast sandwich. You grab your own laptop from the drawer underneath the coffee table and begin to boot it up. 

You ate while waiting, enjoying the crisp bacon and cheddar cheese in the sandwich. Nanami looks over at you while you quietly dance to yourself. “I assume it’s good?” He begins, a small curve at the end of his lips. Cheeks warm from his words, and you nod while chewing on your bite. He leans over and brings his hand to your face. You froze while you felt his thumb gently rub your chin of all the crumbs you accrued as you ate. “Ah, m’sorry,” Nanami quickly retracts his hand, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable, Y/N.” 

“Ah, it’s okay!” You quickly waive his concerns, “you were just trying to help is all. I appreciate it…” 

Silence ensues between the two of you. But Nanami stopped typing once more to comment on the two mugs. “Did you make yourself a cup of coffee as well? It doesn’t look like what you usually get.” 

You shook your head, “it’s a bit too cold for iced coffee. Plus, I wanted to try your coffee and see what the hype is all about.” 

He smiles sheepishly, “you might not care for it much. It’s a bit too bitter.” 

You shrug, “I’m still curious.” And that same curiosity bit you in the ass. You carefully lift the mug and take a sip, the taste of hot, acrid coffee tormenting your tongue. Quickly placing the mug down, you give Nanami the stink eye. “You… are very brave,” you let out as you take another bite of your sandwich. 

Nanami lets out a genuine laugh, “it isn’t for everyone, truly. But it warms my heart that you were willing to try it.” 

You look over at him, noticing the wistfulness of his eyes. It was worth it, albeit the foul taste. “It tasted much sweeter in my head when you talked about it,” you softly hum. “I’ll… continue to enjoy it vicariously through you.” 

“You’re good with not being mean, Y/N,” Nanami says through another gentle laugh, “I envy that about you a bit.” It was like he was shooting arrows directly at your heart. “A-ah, there’s no need to make everything a bad thing,” you let out nervously. You begin to log into your computer, “just because it’s not for me, doesn’t mean I should make you feel bad.” Nanami agrees with a nod, “you’re absolutely right.” He shifts a bit to get more comfortable in his seat, and looks down to make sure his feet are really covered. When he does, his eyes saunter towards the spare slippers you lent him. “Ah, Y/N, I hope I’m not intruding in you and your partner's space.” 

Where did that come from? “Hm?” You eye him curiously. 

He points down to the slippers, “these slippers are much bigger than your own.” 

“I like to keep a pair for when I have visitors like yourself,” you reason, “but you are absolutely not intruding. I’m… very single.” It felt a bit embarrassing to admit that to your crush, but what can you do? You didn’t want him thinking you were taken when you were readily (hopefully) available for him. 

“I see,” he comments quietly. Keeping his eyes glued to his computer, Nanami continues, “I apologize for even bringing up something sensitive like this.” 

You shake your hand, “it’s completely fine! Honestly, I don’t mind at all.” Fiddling with your thumbs, you look over shyly at your boss, “I’m like an open book so… whatever you are curious about, I don’t mind sharing with you. I trust you… quite a lot, Nanami,” you admit, your face completely hot. 

“And I you, Y/N,” Nanami peels his eyes from his screen to meet your own. “You’ve been nothing but an asset since your transfer, and I couldn’t be more satisfied with your work ethic and capabilities.” 

You look down at your lap, with your hands finding solace on your knees. “Thank you very much,” you reply humbly, “but I wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t under your guidance. I feel like I’ve progressed much faster within the company since becoming your assistant. I don’t say this quite enough, but… I’m very grateful to you, Nanami.” 

“You might sway me with your flattery, Y/N,” Nanami teases, “your words are so soft, it feels like you’re confessing.” 

“A-ah?” You exclaim nervously. You knew he was messing around, but it almost feels like… “d-don’t get the wrong idea! I just respect you a lot, is all… nothing more!” 

Hazel eyes narrow down at your face, and Nanami lets out a sigh of relief. He hovers his hand over his chest, closing his eyes in bliss. “That’s actually quite relieving to hear,” Nanami hums. Relieving? 

“Hm?” You asked, “what do you mean?” What were you missing?

“Ah no,” Nanami begins to smile again, “I had caught wind of a rumor that I was gullible enough to believe a bit. It made it quite nervous, truth be told. But you’ve now confirmed that it was nothing more than a silly rumor.” 

“A rumor?” You felt your body go cold. 

Nanami nods, while replying to emails once again, “I overheard some of our coworkers rumor mongering. Along the lines of you having feelings towards me beyond friendly ones. But I’m glad it turned out to be false.” 

Fingertips felt like ice, and your heart transformed into glass. It shattered moments after Nanami’s words. Everything that you adored about this man was quickly turning ugly. The idealization of your boss was crumbling, with your feelings following suit. This confirmed that your crush wasn’t light– it was deep and sincere. He broke your heart while head on with your adoration. Haibara’s warnings begin to taunt your mind while your sane mind tries to tend to your heart. 

You didn’t even get the chance to confess.

He practically threw away all of your efforts. Every time you would get him coffee so he didn’t have to get it himself. Keeping the staff in check constantly so he needn’t ever worry about the progress of the department. Always organizing all of his meetings and attending to things that were considered miniscule to him. Getting the new barista hired so he could enjoy his beloved coffee within the office. Memorizing all the goods that trigger his childhood sweet tooth. 

Your throat felt tight, with your chest feeling even tighter. Tears were threatening to gloss your eyes, with the power in your hands going weak. Your body was ready to go numb, and you wished nothing more than to ask Nanami to leave your home. But work just started, and you couldn’t just kick him out in the middle of his shift.

Your feelings were hurt, but you couldn’t afford being unprofessional. You nod, “just a silly rumor.” 

You put down the breakfast sandwich, as a wave of nausea quickly entered your system. You grab your mug of coffee and your laptop. Rushing over to the kitchen, you toss out the remainder of the bitter coffee and begin to make your way to your bedroom. Nanami caught light of your stride and looked up at you, eyes asking where you were off to. 

“I have a meeting as well,” you force out, “it’s confidential.” 

“Ah, right,” Nanami accepts. “I understand. Take your time, and good luck.” He looks back at his laptop, not missing a single beat when returning to his emails. 

With that lie, you close the door behind you, run into your closet, and allow your tears to pour out. Drops spill onto your keys, but you didn’t care. Helpless hands wipe away your tears, only to find futility in its efforts. In your silent woe, you let out your own sigh of relief, despite your pain-filled cry. 

You no longer had to torture yourself with the what-if’s. You no longer had to wonder what it would be like to be Nanami’s girlfriend. Your crush was at the end of its road. 

With a struggle (through tearful lenses), you take out your phone, scroll through your messages and tap on Haibara's name.

Taglist:

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw

[siameanee]

take your time 🎸 hobie brown x fem!reader

DONT OPEN UR WINDOW FOR HOBIE BROWN AT 3 AM 😱😱‼️‼️💯💯 (REAL) (NOT FAKE)

i don't post. or write fanfictions. this is the first and last fanfic ill write - there just isn't enough hobie brown fics out there. hopped on and said fine ill do it myself 😞 !

also i didnt proofread this 😭

wc: idk might be long tho

tags or desc or whatevr: hobie brown x fem!reader smut, hobie smut, hobie x fem!reader, fingering (r receiving), riding, kinda slow burn (i think), friends to luvas

shmut unda the cut ‼️

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you sat idly in your bed, scrolling through tiktok and giggling every once in a while. you twisted and turned until your gazed lifted from the endless videos and you saw the time: 3 a.m., causing you to plug up your lit up rectangle and turn away from it, hand under the pillow and the other reaching to pull up the covers in an effort to warm your shivering body.

however, your best friend, hobie, had other plans. minutes later, your phone lit up and you flipped back over angrily, trying to get used to the flash of light in your darkened room. 

hobs 🎸

open ur window? got hurt need sum help :)

3:45 a.m.

you furrowed your brows as you leaned up to be able to type. 

hobs 🎸

open ur window in a min? got hurt need sum help

3:45 a.m.

it's 3:45 hobie ... 😭

3:46 a.m.

you waited for his response, letting out a frustrated huff when he didn't respond for a full 4 minutes. as you rested your head on the pillow once again, you heard another ping from your phone as it lit back up one more time. 

hobs 🎸

open ur window in a min? got hurt need sum help

3:45 a.m.

it's 3:45 hobie ... 😭

3:46 a.m.

*Attachment: 1 Image*

says right here 3:46 ? 

3:49 a.m.

you were about to comment on his witty remark until you heard repeated knocks on your left window. as you got up, you discovered a tall handsome male clad in a spidersuit and some plaid trousers leaning down and grinning back at you, pointing to the windowsill. opening the window, he crawls in, lifts up his mask, and lands on your desk chair, groaning.

"what ha-" you started, but you saw his face riddled with wounds and the gashes zigzagging his chest. you closed your mouth and pointed your finger to him. "stay right there, hobie. don't snoop around. i'll be right back with the first-aid kit." you ran out of the room, hearing him shout back at you.

"won't!" hobie shouts from your room, and you can hear the smile in his words.

you return with the first aid kit, and true to his word -- surprisingly, or so you think -- hobie is in the same spot. you settle in between his long, manspreaded legs, tending to his facial wounds. you try not to notice his burning gaze on you as he tilts his head up for you to tend to his wounds. you can see his adams' apple in your peripheral version and you're trying oh so hard to mind your business. to do what he asked you to. to focus. he's your best friend, and all he asked of you was to tend to his wounds.

but when your fingers start to fumble on his face and you drop a bandaid, you're forced to bend down. you're forced to bend down in between his manspreaded legs, and when your cheek accidentally grazes the tent in his trousers on the way down, you realize how difficult this is going to be and you swear you can hear something -- a sound -- emerge in his throat before he clears his throat.

you decide to ignore it however, resurfacing and continuing on his face, trying to ignore the new grin he's wearing and the telltale half-lidded eyes on display for you.

"hobie, stop." you gnaw on your lip, trying not to look at his eyes. 

"stop what?" hobie speaks, causing his grin to widen. 

"whatever the hell you're doing." your eyes flicker to his lips as his tongue darts out to lick his lips, and you pray he didn't notice.

he shrugs and lifts up his hands in faux surrender. "haven't done a thing luv." he smiles.

however, when hobie goes to put his hands back down, they don't land back on his thighs. instead, they land on your hips. your breathing quickens and hobie seems to take notice of this because you notice his grin widens. 

after getting sidetracked and going to his chest wounds so that you wouldn't have to look at that annoyingly pretty ass face of his, you finish tending to his chest wounds and return to his facial wounds to finish sewing them back up too. but when you travel up, hobie's hands do too. his index fingers -- that were hooked under your shirt-- slide up, and he reveals your pink panties, and you catch him looking down to see the gold he's dug up.

"hobie, hands to yourself." you shakily breathe out, trying to focus on his face. you said all this, but you also made no effort to remove his hands off of you, and he seems to have realized.

"yeah? should i really now? you can remove 'em at any time, luv. but you're not. why is that?" he tilts his head to the side to give you better access to a particular wound. you refuse to answer his question, so his deep voice dripping in a cockney accent emerges from his throat once more to ask the question again. "hm?" he asks, his right hand traveling to your back to arch your back and push you into him, so you can feel his boner in between your legs, and this elicits a short, cut off whimper out of you that he obviously takes pride in, as his smile is now handsomely toothy.

"fu-- hobie, please," your hands falter as you continue flimsily working on his face.

"please wha'?" hobie says. "gotta tell me what you want. use your words, huh?" and with that, he hooks his long fingers under your pretty pink panties, tracing the rim. 

his eyes never left yours as he did all of this, and it was apparent to you that he had no shame. 

but you didn't either, because when his fingers were removed from the band of your panties, you whined for him. for the loss of his touch where you needed it most. 

"do you need something?" hobie questions, innocently raising his eyebrow, hands traveling to graze your stomach.

you shake your head, biting your lip, scared to open your mouth just incase anything unwanted slipped out.

"good." he says, grinning from ear to ear as his hand dips to your pooling cunt, nearly dripping on the floor as he pulls your panties to the side, leaving you hissing and your hands fumbling on his face.

"oh no, can't have that doc. pay attention baby. i like how my face looks," he says cockily, rubbing tight circles around your clit.

"mh', hobie, please..." you say, starting to lose feeling in the cold tips of your fingers. 

"told ya to use your words luv." he says, dipping one nimble finger into your dripping hole, eliciting a moan out of you and he seems to swallow it as it leaves your throat.

it wasn't long before he slipped another finger into you, fucking you on his fingers slowly, refusing to curl his fingers up to hit that spot of yours that you needed so badly. you set your tools aside and he stopped moving completely, tutting at you before you picked the tools back up, and he resumed his slow, torturous pace in your cunt. 

"jus' like that baby," he coos after you finish closing up another wound, struggling to keep your composure as his pace starts to go at a cut-throat speed, his digits expertly doing a 'come here' motion against your gummy walls, making you drop your tools once more. he returns to your clit and picks up his pace -- as if it wasn't fast enough already --, making you moan and squirm on his deft fingers. "hobie--" you start, getting cut off by a moan as your grip on his shoulders tighten. "fuck-- please, please, please, please.." you chant. you noticed his gaze wasn't on yours anymore, it was on the way your slick pooled in his palm so mesmerizingly. 

"fuck... that's it baby." he said as you broke apart on his fingers after one more thrust up into your dripping cunt, causing you to cum all over his fingers, all for him, on him, leaving you moaning and shaking on his fingers.

his gaze returned to yours, your face furrowed and your lips glistening from spit, hobie looked you in the eye, making sure you saw him lick all of your taste off of his long fingers, leaving his mouth with an overly lewd 'pop' sound. he then reached for you and pulled you closer to make out with you, exchanging spit. you could taste yourself on his tongue, causing you to moan into his mouth. 

you thought you were done, and you were in bliss, making out with hobie brown, forgetting all about his boner. he was going to make sure you took care of it just like he took care of you, which is why he unzipped his trousers and let you feel his cock spring up rubbing against your stomach. 

you looked down in shock. there was no way that was going to fit in you. he was crazy. "hobie, that's not gonna fit," you say, gaze fixated on his angry red tip.

"yes it is luv. jus' sit on it, yeah?" hobie says, motioning to it. 

you lift your hips, folds grazing the head of his dick. you start to sink down on it, and you let out a loud moan when the tip entered you. you refused to move anymore, looking at him with furrowed brows before he tore his gaze from where you two conjoined and looked at your facial expression.

"fine... gotta do everythin' me fuckin' self don't i?" hobie mumbles, before grabbing onto your hips and slamming you down onto the base of his cock, causing a loud moan and mixed in whimpers to rip out of you. 

"shit... hobs..." you say, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and indulging in the full feeling. 

this only lasted for a couple of seconds due to how impatient your best friend was. soon, you heard a laugh followed by an "i know. fuckin' mesmerizin' innit?" hobie says, lifting your hips on his cock, before pushing you back down, eliciting a whimper out of your chest, causing you to reemerge and start bouncing yourself on his cock.

"fuck yes..." hobie says, groaning. "jus' like that baby. c'mon."

this made you bounce faster and start moving your hips around. hobie started to meet you in the middle with thrusts, the air becoming hot and steamy and filled with the mixture of your moans.

"oh my.. ha--...hobie..." your nails dug into his back as he thrust up into you. he didn't respond, but he started to trace circles around that pretty little nub of yours. "gonna cum for me baby? cum for me yeah? come on, all over my dick. cum for me please, i want it so badly. need you to cum all over my dick for me, please luv," hobie shamelessly whined in your ear.

and fuck, did he get what he asked for. his words sent you over the edge, making you cum all over that long-ass dick of his, forming a pretty white ring around the base of his cock as your cum dripped and followed the winding paths of his bulging veins. he noticed your eyes were off of his and on the enchanting scene in between you both, and with that he took your jaw in his hand and forced you to look him in the eyes. "keep ye fuckin' eyes on me, yeah?" he said in between heavenly groans that made you wonder if you could get wetter than you already were.

as he fucked you through your orgasm, stars formed in your vision and tears clouded your eyes as hobie groaned into your ear. with one more jerk up into your dripping cunt, hobie -- your 'best friend', need i remind you -- spilled his seed into you, slipping out of you, carrying you to your bed and fucking all of his escaping cum right back into your cunt with two digits, sticking the same two down your throat. 

"suck." he ordered, and you followed. 

he pulled your panties right back over your slick folds and laid beside you like he didn't just take your soul from you, fuck it, and return it to your body. 

"i think i like you," is all that british motherfucker says, facing you with an annoying -- but incredibly attractive at that -- shit-eating grin.

-------

authors note:

i did this in under 3 hours dont criticize anything please ill cry

hobie brainrot is going crazy rn!!!! give him more love so i dont have to anymore!!!

hobartholomew needs to be put in jail 😞😞

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Perfect Stranger

Summary- Eddie runs into someone needing his help late at night, and like the gentleman he is, he knew he couldn’t leave you all by yourself.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- A drunk asshole not understanding when he’s made a girl feel uncomfortable 🙃

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

Word Count- 1.2k

Eddie took one last puff off of the cigarette butt between his fingers before tossing it to the ground, blowing the smoke up into the night sky as he began down the crowded sidewalk. Smaller shows were his absolute favorite shows to attend, he adored being able to support the local scene, just as long as they didn’t mind taking a flyer for Corroded Coffins next show.

They always ended the same: the crew would clear out their equipment along with a majority of the people in the crowd, meanwhile the band would be at the bar talking with friends and a few new fans. The only unfortunate part was that Eddie promised Wayne this wouldn’t be another night where he was out past 3 a.m. A smirk came to his lips as he checked his wristwatch. Only 1:45, so technically he was still on time.

Just as he put his arm back down, he jumped, not seeing you standing so closely to him, smiling big with a look in your eyes he’d only seen in movies. When those damsels in distress finally see their knight in shining armpit to take them away from whatever evil was keeping them captive.

He didn’t know how right he was.

“Hey!” You said, eyes wide with that same smile on your lips, “Where have you been, i’ve been looking all over for you?”

Confused wouldn’t even begin to describe the way Eddie was feeling.

There was this girl in front of him, a complete stranger, dressed up all pretty with your makeup and hair done. He started to think he saw you in the crowd at the show. Yet still, a stranger, who was clearly VERY happy to have found him. It was only when he looked up behind you and saw an irritated man a few feet away.

He was dressed up in the same clothes, another guy from the show he assumed, only this one didn’t seem like the type to not be a problem. Eddie glanced down and immediately picked up this schtick you’d begun when you looked into his eyes and mouthed ‘Help. Me.’ to him. That was enough to get anyone’s clear attention.

“Hey!” He smiled, his arm quickly going around your side to pull you close to him, “Sorry, i think i just got caught up at the bar, my bad.”

“That’s ok!” You nodded, hoping the relief in your voice translated as a ‘thank you’, “I told you he was around here somewhere,” You said to the creep, “he can get me back just fine.”

Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ easily.

“You’re sure?” He shrugged, “How do i know you’re not just making shit up? I’m just trying to be nice, you should be thankful.”

“Hey.” Eddie said sternly, even making you jump slightly, “Don’t tell her how to feel asshole, she said she’s fine.”

“Oh come on, I’ve been talking to this bitch all night and she’s been all alone until now.” From the way his words were slurring it was quite noticeable how many drinks this guy had at the show. Another drunk asshole thinking he can creep on any girl he wants, and Eddie wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Yeah, well her boyfriend is here now so i think you should get lost.” Eddie pulled you closer into him, getting ready to shield you just in case this guy decided to get any closer.

The drunk tilted his head with a sour look on his face, staring directly at you as he tried his best to stand on his own two legs. His attention was drawn elsewhere when he saw the familiar shine of the streetlights against the red and blue siren atop the police car that just so happened to be driving by.

With an eye roll and a scoff from the drunk, you thought you could hear him muster out something, but as soon as it started it was over. He shook his head as he turned on his heel, finally leaving you alone, especially after not wanting this to get any more serious than it had already been.

Eddie watched as the drunk turned the corner, keeping you at his side just in case he decided to come back.

“You alright?” He asked you, his hands holding your forearms tightly, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, I’m alright.” You smiled with a sigh of relief knowing that he was finally gone, “He just wouldn’t leave me alone… Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it…” You were about to thank him formally but it had finally got you that you didn’t even know his name.

“Eddie.” He said with a smile, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Eddie.” You confirmed, taking his hand and giving it a gentle shake, “I’m (y/n).”

“Nice to meet you, (y/n).”

“Likewise.” You smiled before a quick deep breath, “Thank you again, really. That drunk asshole has been bothering me all fucking night.”

“God, i can’t imagine.” Eddie slowly walked with you closer to the bar, at least there you’d be around with people if that guy decided to come back, “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” You shrugged, “It wouldn’t be the first time some dick at a show decided i was gonna be his target for the night. It’s usually easy, im always with my friends, but the one night i decide to go to a show by myself…” You took another deep breath, shaking your head for letting yourself get so stupid and go to a show by yourself when you knew this would happen. Again.

Eddie gently put his hand to your shoulder,

“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but that asshole, he’s the one who got too drunk to notice how creepy he was being.”

His reassurance helped to ease your anxiety, and he seemed like an overall nice guy considering how quickly he caught onto helping you.

“Thank you.” You said with a kind smile, your eyes finally meeting his. They looked almost black in the night, but the chocolatey glare from the yellowed street lights made them seem so soft.

“Of course. If you like i’d be happy to stick around you for a little bit, or i can walk you to your car if you need me to?”

“Honestly, after all that,” You chuckled nervously, replaying the nights events in your head, “i could use a drink.”

“Hear, hear.” Eddie laughed, holding his arm out for you to take, “I’ll buy. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You cautiously took his arm, pulling close to him as you began your slow stroll towards the still open bar. It may have a few more drunk assholes left straggling around but at least this time you had some protection.

With the combination of the yellow streetlights overhead and the music of the bar playing in the distance, mixed with the rustle of the leaves as a breeze flew by, it made the moment seem almost romantic.

You may have just met one another, just you were happy to get to know this stranger. No matter how long it took.

[ghostandsoap]

Every Scar Has a Story

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Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! “Gecko” Reader

Tags: Post-Smut (I’ll owe y’all one LOL). Domestic Ghost. Referenced child abuse. Past child abuse.  

Word Count: 3.0k

“What are you thinking about then?”

⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡⋆˙⟡

A content sigh fell from Simon’s lips as he collapsed back onto the pillows on his bed. 

His grip on your waist loosened which allowed you to unstraddle him and join him on the mattress. He grinned at you as your naked body piled onto his. If he could relive this moment forever, he’d never complain. He could feel the rapid thumps of your heartbeat against his chest – a sign that you were pumped full of energy and adrenaline. The flat of one of his large hands trailed up and down the length of your back, a gentle motion as a way of relaxing you back to normal.

He had never experienced a moment more serene than the post-orgasm high. It was one he adored, and one that he loved to witness you in the middle of.

“You alright, love?” He took deep breaths in an attempt to settle his own body.

It was such a simple question, and one that he asked every time you made love. Simon knew that he wasn’t always the gentlest person on the planet, and he never wanted to unintentionally be too rough with you.

“Mmhm,” You hummed, looking up at him through glazed (yet satisfied) eyes. “Perfect.” 

That look.

It absolutely drove him wild in the best of ways. It sent a flush of warmth and desire over him every single time without fail. Simon couldn’t understand how someone as flawless and wonderful as you could ever even think of seeing him as worthy. 

He rolled you over to crash next to him, a smile appearing on his face when you giggled. He wrapped an arm around you to pull you in as close as possible, loving every second of having you pressed up against him. The two of you had “gone to bed” almost three hours ago, around 11:00 p.m. or so. You had fallen asleep within a few minutes, but Ghost (who had always struggled when it came to sleeping) stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, listening to your slow breathing as you slept. 

Ghost had gotten used to sleepless nights over the course of his life. It was when his mind was the busiest…when his mind was the loudest. He was patient on nights like this, the ones where he couldn’t mellow out enough to get some decent rest. As long as you were comfortable and safe, he could lie awake for as long as he needed to. But when you started to stir around 1:45 a.m., he couldn’t help but take the opportunity. 

It had happened a couple of times over the course of your relationship. Waking up just enough in the middle of the night to have sex and then both of you (or one of you, depending on the day) falling back asleep. He had nudged you awake when you had rustled in bed next to him, pestering you awake to kiss you as his sign of arousal. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. It’s not like you had ever complained about it.

“You gonna go back to sleep?” Simon asked, secretly hoping you’d stay awake with him, but not wanting you to if you wanted the rest.

“Only if you are.” 

“I don’t think that’s happening tonight, lovely.” He kissed your forehead.

“Can’t sleep?” You questioned.

“No,” He answered. “But I’m okay. Not tired.”

Simon had impeccable energy. He didn’t need sleep more often than not. It was impressive to most, envied by some. But he knew that most people wouldn’t want that trait if they knew that it was a survival skill that he had perfected over the years.

Sleeping meant being unaware. Being unaware meant being vulnerable to the world. Being vulnerable meant opening a door to danger. Simon had learned long ago that keeping that door closed was safest.

“I’m not tired either.” You sighed.

“You will be,” He returned. “Don’t wait up just for me.”

“I want to though.”

Simon’s heart did a leap. There was something so incredibly comforting about the thought of you doing something with or for him just because you wanted to.

Time at home was…bittersweet for Simon. He didn’t exactly love when he was sent home before going back out into the field again. He understood that it was necessary, not to mention mandatory. He knew that he needed some time at home, away from the hustle and bustle of Task Force 141. It was the only way to ensure that he could continue to go out with his team when they needed him. Simon Riley might’ve been a freak of nature, but even he needed his breaks.

Getting sent home meant a lot of quiet time for Simon. In years past, returning to his home front meant returning to an empty home with no one to share his space with. At certain points in his life, he would even admit that he preferred it that way. Simon wasn’t graced with complete self-isolation very often. His career didn’t exactly allow that. 

But as he got older (and maybe even just a little bit softer on the inside), the more and more he realized that flying solo isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. 

It was even harder to come home when he knew that meant being separated from you.

The first time that you and Simon were sent home to your respective stomping grounds, he severely underestimated the effect it would have on him. It was a short leave, shorter than the typical time that you were usually sent home for. He could manage a few months, no problem. Before he knew it, the two of you would be deployed back on a mission and it would be like no time had passed at all. Besides, he knew the two of you could text and call at any time. It wouldn’t be that different. 

Oh, but how wrong he was.

Almost four weeks into the three month leave, Simon was practically begging you to come see him. He had found that his apartment felt unbearably lonely, and not being able to see you whenever he wanted to was torture. He felt anxious that he couldn’t be with you in person. He didn’t care how he had to get you there, but he needed to get it done. Sure enough, you were on his doorstep two days after he called you in a near meltdown, with enough belongings packed to get you through the rest of the three month period.

Simon’s mood had drastically improved following your arrival. As a matter of fact, he didn’t realize just how worse off he was without you. Fast forward to one month after your arrival, and with one more month left before the two of you were set to return, Simon had definitely gotten used to having you around.

“What do you think Johnny’s doing right now?” Simon suddenly asked, which made you raise a brow.

“I don’t know,” You laughed. “Why do you ask?”

“He does some odd stuff on leave. I was wondering what kind of stories we’ll get to hear when we go back.” Simon clarified.

“Who knows. It’s Soap,” You snorted. “I’m not exactly thinking about Soap at the moment.”

“Oh, yeah?” He purred, his fingers running through your hair. “What are you thinking about then?”

“You.”

Simon twitched when he felt the feather-like touch of your index fingertip trailing along the bone of his collar. It tickled him, and he hadn’t been expecting it. You were lovingly caressing him, staring at him with adoration. Simon had gotten used to you doing frivolous things like that. It freaked him out in the beginning, because he wasn’t used to someone doing an act of affection just because they felt like it. 

You were following along the path of the scar that was on his collarbone. It was about three inches wide or so, and even though it had faded over time, it was still clear even in the barely lit bedroom.

“What is this one from?” You asked, propping up on your elbow to get a better look at it.

This one.

Simon almost laughed at the wording of your question. He wondered how many people were able to say that to their significant other. “This one” referred to the fact that he had multiple scars from multiple different injuries. It wasn’t conventional, but he found it amusing considering that you were in the same boat. A dangerous career meant dangerous encounters. It was impossible not to have some scars here and there. 

“I think that one was when I got stabbed by the Russian last fall,” He said. “Remember him?”

Simon also found it funny that he wasn’t even totally certain if that was how he earned that one. When someone had as many as he did, the reasons behind them sometimes blended together.

“Oh, yeah. He was a big dude.” You shuddered.

Simon chuckled. That was putting it lightly. He watched as you scanned over his frame, trying to locate another one that you were (or maybe weren’t familiar with).

In so many ways, you enjoyed his company as well. Seeing Simon in such a casual setting was new for you. It was refreshing to know that he really was like everyone else. He enjoyed watching sports games, ordering takeout, and spending a lazy day at home just like you did. 

Not to mention the major elephant in the room, Simon didn’t wear the mask at home. 

This was the longest extended period of time that you had seen him without the mask. Here and there he had put his balaclava on, but for the most part – he had been maskless. Of course you had seen him without a mask before this – but only twice. The first time had been a complete accident, and the second had been intentional in Simon’s first show of trust to you in private. 

Even though his bedroom’s only source of light was currently coming from the streets below and outside of his apartment, you could see his face as clear as ever. He was so beautifully handsome. It was amazing to you that there were so few people that knew what he looked like. You knew better than to comment on that. He never gave more than a vanilla answer to any kind of statement regarding the mask. 

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

“You’re so cute without the mask.” You hummed, finding a small scar just between his nose and the apple of his left cheek.

“Oh, don’t start with all that.” He groaned, but the pink flush in his cheeks let you know that he liked it just a teeny bit.

“Come on,” You whined. “What about this one? Did you take a knife tip to the face in a struggle?”

“That’s from the first time shaving on my own, darling,” He almost laughed. “How else would I have a scar on my face?”

“What do you mean?” You quirked your head.

“I wear the mask, my lovely. Not exactly easy to take damage to the face.”

You supposed that did make sense, and you didn’t dwell on it long.

“This one is from the fire in that shack in Mexico, right?” You pointed towards a burn scar on the skin of his right bicep.

“Yeah, because the shape is similar to the scar you have on your forearm.” He remarked. 

Instinctively, you raised your right forearm to compare the two scars. Sure enough, they were nearly the same shape and size.

“Well…mine is from a hot curling iron,” You snorted. “That’s the one that sticks out to you? Not the scar from metal shrapnel in my knee or from when I got shot in the side in France?”

“It’s the one I remember best because it looks just like mine.” He explained.

‘You know, they say soulmates have matching scars.’ Something that Simon had said to you once in passing. You had taken it as a joke, but Simon couldn’t have been more serious.

“They’re hardly the same.” You smiled.

“A burn is a burn.” He shrugged.

It was a bit of a weird game, he would admit. The two of you did this every so often, comparing scars and reminiscing on how you got them. In a way, it was therapeutic. It also reminded you to be thankful that it wasn’t the injury that made you meet your demise. 

You and Simon both shared scars from stab wounds, gunshot wounds, burns, and cuts of varying degrees. It came with the territory, and it was almost like trophy collecting at this point. The two of you had grown accustomed to them, and most of the time you didn’t even notice them anymore. 

Simon never minded letting you ogle over him in an attempt to find a mark that you hadn’t noticed before. He found it endearing, perhaps a little unfair because he knew there wasn’t a single part of you that he hadn’t noticed already.

Simon felt you examine his torso and legs, scanning over him carefully for another scar to ask about. Not a part of him went unsearched (including his face, where he greedily stole kisses when you got close). You studied his shoulders, biceps (spending a little extra time there – it had always been your favorite part of him), and elbows all the way down to his forearms. 

He didn’t think much of it. Not until he felt your fingers dance over a certain scar that sent his blood from rushing warm to ice cold. A million signals traveled through his system at once – a defense mechanism of sorts.

“What’s this one?” You touched over a mark on his forearm that was much more distinctive than the rest.

It wasn’t remarkably large. It was about the size of a dime, maybe a tad smaller. But its shape wasn’t like anything you had ever seen on yourself or anybody for that matter. It was just barely risen above the skin, and based on the goosebumps that had appeared on his arm – you knew this one was special.

“That one is…older.” He spoke, his voice lower and much more guarded.

You removed your fingers from it because even though he didn’t say it, you could tell that he didn’t like you touching it. The few times that you had accidentally hit a sore spot for him, he put this quick wall up. Identifying it had become easy for you. Pressing forward usually didn’t seem like the best idea, but ignoring it wasn’t very helpful either.

“Older…?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He nodded, voice neutral and deep. “My father smoked.”

Your eyes took another glance at it, using context clues to put the pieces together. What you knew of his father (and you would confess that it was very little) painted him to be the most evil, sinister person to ever walk the planet. Simon had divulged small details here and there, a childhood story every now and again. Needless to say, you knew that his father (and his younger days in general) were not the highlights of his life.

“Oh,” You swallowed, a queasy feeling overtaking your stomach. “I’m sorry.”

Simon’s dark brown eyes met your downcast ones at the sound of your voice being so retracted and soft. Simon could read you like a book. He didn’t want you feeling guilty for asking questions that you had no way of knowing the answer to. You were the last person that he wanted to be uncomfortable at his expense.

“Hey,” He shifted to also sit up on his elbow. “Not your fault. You didn’t know.”

What was ironic was that cigarette burn was the most minor damage left behind by his father. It was something that he could forget…and most of the time he did. The physical injuries were a blip. It was the other stuff – the more hurtful, intense, and…psychological stuff that took the hardest toll on him.

“What happened? When he…burned you?” You continued cautiously.

Simon didn’t blame you for asking questions. If it were the other way around and he knew that someone had hurt you, he’d want to know everything too. But the fact of the matter was that it was buried so far deep in his past that he hardly felt any real reason to dwell on it. Maybe it was his way of deflecting, avoiding old feelings that he never quite came to terms with.

“Darling, I…it’s not personal, I just…” He sighed, unsure of how to gently turn your question down. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

You gave an understanding nod, knowing that line wasn’t ready to be crossed.

“I just feel like I always bring up bad memories for you.” You nearly whispered.

“You don’t. Most of the time I bring it up on my own,” He assured you. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure?” You squeaked.

He gave a genuine smile, one that was usually hidden by a skull-adorned fabric. 

“Positive,” He pulled you back into his side. “After all, why focus on the past when you could focus on the future?”

“And what do you have in mind, Lieutenant?” You snickered.

He rolled over, hovering over you and trapping you between himself and the mattress.

“Something I think you’ll really go for, Gecko.” 

“Mm. Using my call sign? Must be really important.” You went on.

“Something like that.” He kissed you then, keeping you from asking any more questions on that subject.

Simon knew that with time, he’d be more willing to talk about his father. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with that information. Quite the opposite, actually. But in a certain way, not talking about it made Simon feel like it wasn’t real. If he never brought it up, then he could keep it in the past – where it belonged. He didn’t want his past to define his future, and keeping his past alive wasn’t of any interest to him.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d rather focus on the future. He was so much more in tune with you and continuing what you had than anything else in his life. He liked the Ghost and Gecko dynamic, and he was forever grateful for the utter joy it had brought to him. Most importantly, he was forever thankful for the love being shown to him that he had missed out on.

The love that you had shown him.

[alientee]

Mauga x reader and y’all mainly voted one shots so here’s one haha 18+ so minors don’t interact

🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

Reader is worried about Mauga when he goes on missions with talon so Mauga eases her worries the best way he knows how. Mauga x afab reader. (Oral sex f.receiving, size kink, overstimulation , mating press, there’s a little manhandling going on .) I tried my best I’m not the greatest at le smut.

You were laying in bed, struggling to sleep. Mauga had been taking on a lot of missions with Talon lately. Now you knew your boyfriend was tough, but that didn’t mean his job as a mercenary didn’t come with consequences. He is such a free spirit, but sometimes his boss doesn’t like it, and you were afraid it would cost him his life one day.

You wanted to stay up just in case Mauga came back and he needed help. He didn’t like it when you worried for him, but you couldn’t help it. You look at the clock, seeing that it’s 1:45 a.m.

“Mauga… please be alright”

And at 2:00am, you let out a sigh of relief hearing the alarm turn off. You sit up, waiting for your boyfriend to show himself, knowing he would stay down stairs and eat his dinner you had left in the oven for him. Around 45 minutes later, you hear big stomps coming upstairs. He peeks his head in to see if you are asleep, and he frowns when he sees otherwise.

Mauga crosses his arms “baby I told you, don’t wait up for me. You need your sleep”

You sigh, you knew were this was going “I know… I just can’t help it… I wanna make sure your ok”

He walks toward the bed and wraps his arms around you. Every time he holds you, it’s like you drown in his big muscles, and it feels like safety. He grips your chin, making you look at him.

“I told you I’d always come back to you, even if I had to take every life I needed to, and I meant it. You understand me”

You nodded; you knew how serious Mauga was. It took a lot for you to accept that he works for Talon. What he does makes you scared of what could come from it. For you and for him, it took a lot of work, but you knew he loved you, and you loved him just as much. He stares into your eyes and makes sure you truly understand that he’s serious. Then let’s go of your chin. He reaches down and grips your hips.

“Good, lemmie put your mind at ease. Lay down”

“But Mauga” he stops you and pushes you on your back, gripping your hands above your head.

“Lay down, and don’t move”

You listen to his instructions and look away with a heavy blush on your face. It always gave you butterflies when Mauga got this way. You could never get used to it. He somehow always made you feel like it was the first time every time.Mauga chuckles when he sees you, his muscular body pressing against your soft skin. He leans in close to your face, his warm breath tickling your neck.

“So fucking cute, you like it when I’m rough with you huh" he whispers seductively before leaning in to kiss your neck

You moan in embarrassment not wanting to admit it. Everything about this man turned you on and you couldn’t help it. He was so big, and so was everything on him. Mauga takes your moan as a sign of approval and smirks, his rough hands trailing down your body. He grabs your ass, squeezing and kneading it as he continues to kiss and nibble on your neck.

“Gonna eat you out til you can’t worry that pretty little head about anything else.” He groans, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

“Please~”

When he made no move to continue, you knew it would take more than that. Mauga loved it when you begged; he loved it even more to tease you. He could play with you for hours and still wouldn’t let you cum. Getting you to the edge and making you want more is what got him going. He knew you would beg for him so sweetly. You always do.

"Please Mauga~, I wanna cum for you…please please please touch me!” You gaze at him with pleading eyes. "I'm begging you, Mauga. I can’t take it anymore. My body is burning to have more of you.” You gasp in between words, and your eyes shyly look away. “I won’t be satisfied unless it’s you”

Mauga's eyes darken, and he starts to smirk as he hears your plea. His hips start grinding against you. He grabs your face roughly, pulling your head to the side as he bites your neck hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand reaches between your legs, roughly tearing your panties off.

“Don’t cry about it being to much later" He growls, using his thumbs to spread you’re pussy lips "I'm gonna make you cum, over and over again doll"

Mauga's tongue darts out, tracing the outline of your pussy before plunging inside. He groans as he feels your wet heat, and his hands grip your thighs as his tongue thrusts in and out of your tight hole in a punishing rhythm. You begin to squirm and beg for more as he licks your wet folds.

“Maugaaa ngh~” you tried to grind against his lips but his grip was to strong

He growls low in his throat. “You're so nasty when ya wanna be; act all shy, then ya beg for it," he says before taking a long lick from your entrance to your clit. Savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He continues to lap at your pussy, pushing his large finger inside you, stretching you as he thrusts it in and out while sucking on your pearl.

“I can't wait to feel you cum on my tongue" he mutters against your pussy, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. He runs his tongue up and down your cunt while flicking your clit slowly. He could feel you clench around his finger, he sped up his movements. Mauga moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, the sensation driving him wild. He increases the intensity of his tongue work, flicking and sucking your clit, pushing his finger deeper inside you.

You could feel yourself about cum, your back arched and you started to feel your stomach tighten. The familiar release washing over you as you grip the sheets and released into his mouth. Mauga pushes his face deeper into your dripping wet pussy lapping up your cum and he doesn’t stop even when you’re shaking.

“Ahhhhhhhhh- Mauga.. I can’t…. s’to much!” You try to pull on his hair to move him back but Mauga smacks your thigh gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise. He pulls you back to him pushing his weight down on you.

“Stop moving and fucking take it you begged for it”

He continues to lap up your juices, his tongue swirling around your clit sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You begin to shake from the overstimulation, but you had no choice but to take it. He was making a mess of you, kissing and licking on your pussy his saliva mixing with your essence.

Mauga begins to slurp on your sensitive pussy while getting your juices on his face pressing his nose against your clit causing more friction. His finger begins to rub against your g-spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head. While your legs start convulsing Mauga continues his attack on your sensitive folds. Not stopping no matter how much you beg. The sounds of him kissing your clit and flicking it with his tongue rang through your ears.

“Mauga please m’gonna make a mess”

“Go ahead sweetheart make a mess on my face”

You start to lose your breath. The familiar tightness in your stomach returns until you feel added pressure you never have before. “Fuuuuuuckk!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You end up screaming as you squirt all over his face. Mauga rubs his hands over your clit roughly making your juices spray out on his face and the sheets. He stares into your eyes as he slurps up your mess still shoving his face back in your pussy licking and sucking on your folds. You trash in his hold, not able to take his continued ministrations.

“W-wait…. Ahh~….. Mauga ! m’sensitive no more please!”

Mauga growls in annoyance as he grips your legs and pushes them up against the bed. Your ankles were in the air near you knew you were stuck. Mauga leans back and smacks your ass so hard it leaves a red mark behind. You couldn’t help but hiss in pain feeling the familiar sting on your ass. You knew you were testing his patience. Because he knew you could take more of it, you have before.

He starts to finger your pussy quickly trying to get another organism out of you. As you try to beg for mercy squirming in his hold Mauga ignores you, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. Fat tears start to roll down your face as you release another orgasm. The overstimulation leaving you a panting crying mess unable to think straight.

“Told you to stop fucking moving” Mauga takes off his pant’s and gets on top of you bringing your legs back further he puts his legs on both sides of you trapping you in the position. Mauga could never fully fit in you at the start. He was atleast 10 inches, his cock was fat and heavy. Even when he was fully hard it could barely hold its weight. He strokes his cock a few times before rubbing it against your folds getting himself wet with your juices.

He slaps it against your clit a few times before he slowly puts his thick cock in you. He takes his time stretching you open, knowing how hard it is for you to take him in. He begins to thrust slowly inside of you giving you time to adjust. He pulls back only leaving his tip in before slamming back down inside of you. Once he feels you running your fingers through his hair he knew you were ready. He starts to go deeper as he feels your tight heat around him.

“M-Mauga….it hurts… m’to full” you whine feeling the sting of him stretching you.

“Hurts sweetheart? Lemmie rub that pretty clit, make you feel good”

He moves his hand down softly rubbing your clit in circles. You look at him through your eyelashes biting your lip finally feeling some relief. “Feel better baby?” You nodded at him.

His cock moves deeper and deeper inside you as you begin to relax. You moan louder, begging him for more, and the pain starts to turn into pleasure. He starts to pick up the pace, slamming into you harder and faster. Mauga smirks as he watches you lose control. He continues to thrust in you roughly, feeling your tight walls gush all over his shaft. The room was filled with your moans and his growls. The loud Pat Pat sounds of his heavy balls slapping your ass filled the room and turned you on even more.

You scratch at his back unable to do anything else but to take him fucking you while in the mating press. His movement gets more rapid as his thurst get sloppier as he feels you shake and tremble beneath him. The bed begins to creak and the headboard hits the wall as he roughly fucks you into the bed.

Manga’s entire body shutters, his hips bucking wildly as he feels himself about to release. He continues to fuck you into the bed, gripping your thighs, while his thrust becomes more sloppy. As you start to come undone, he lets out a deep moan, letting out spurts of hot, sticky cum inside of you. And he doesn’t stop for over a minute until you're full of cum, leaving your pussy a sloppy mess.

He lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing ahold of you, turning on his back, and bringing you to his chest with his cock still in you. You lay on top of him, satisfied with being filled with his cum and feeling full with him still inside. You lean up to give him a kiss, and he grips your ass cheeks, caressing them softly while your tongues are caressing each other. When you both separate, a string of saliva connects you. Holding each other, you both lay in silence until Mauga speaks up.

“Any time you think I’m not coming back to you remember that I’ll always do anything to be with you.” He kissed your forehead, and you genuinely believe him.

“I believe it….. just promise you won’t do anything to stupid”

“How about just the right amount of stupid”

“Deal~”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 45

Part 1 Part 44

Steve stays seated on the coffee table, long after Jonathan and Will have left. The entirety of his old life is bagged up next to him. Three small bags. That’s the total sum of Steve Harrington’s life.

He sits in the Munson’s trailer, unmoored.

But then there’s Eddie. Always, eternally Eddie who picks up Steve’s filled duffel bag and marches into his room. A man on a mission. Just like he always will, Steve follows him.

Eddie’s dresser is open, shirts haphazardly thrown on the ground in a mound.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, hand trailing along the molding of the doorway. The grooves are rough, catching on his calluses.

“Putting your stuff away.”

Eddie folds Steve’s shirts nicely, almost tenderly placing them in a neat pile beside his own. A riot of colors  joining the faded blacks and reds and whites  of Eddie’s own clothes. Something about the sight makes Steve feel unendingly tender. It almost hurts, the way his heart pulses.

“You don’t have to–” 

“Steve?” Eddie interrupts, not turning away from his chosen task.

“Shut up, and go get the rest of your stuff.”

Steve clenches his hand, feels a sliver embed itself into his pointer finger. He pulls it out with the fingernails of his opposite hand, staring at Eddie’s back like he’ll be able to peer through his skins into the machinations underneath. Maybe the breadth of the spaces between each rib will tell him how he got this lucky. Steve goes.

The teddy bear looks sad, abandoned on the coffee table. It’s comfortable in his arms. He picks his heavy backpack up and goes back in the room. Eddie’s in the process of kicking his abandoned shirts into the corner of the room. He smiles sheepishly when Steve walks in.

“I can go home,” Steve says, clutching the teddy bear to his chest. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. He stops trying to neaten his shirts without bending over to stalk over to Steve and wrench his backpack (carefully) off his shoulder. “You’re literally impossible,” he says, placing the backpack down on the ground next to his own. 

“I’m just saying,” Steve says, rolling his own eyes in return, putting on a little show to match Eddie’s own. “I’m not sure your room’s big enough.”

Eddie goes back over to Steve, clasps his hand gently in his own, and brings it up to his lips like the don from a mafia movie. He looks into Steve’s eyes, and up close, he can see little flecks of gold. “I’m going to kill you.” Eddie says. Softly, gently. Steve would let him.

Instead, he leads Steve by hand over to the bed, and pushes him down, teddy bear and all. “I’m just saying–” Steve says halfheartedly, shuffling backward to settle his back against the wall, Eddie’s pillows wedged between the mattress and the wall. 

“Well stop,” Eddie says, sitting down beside him. “Do you want to go home?” He asks it like he knows the answer – less question and more leading Steve to the answer they both already know.

Eddie leans his head on Steve’s good shoulder, petting Teddy’s soft fur. Steve lets him, clutches the bear tightly as he says a quiet, “no.”

“Great!” Eddie says brightly, swaying his weight further into Steve’s space, “Because there’s no way in hell I can sleep on my own right now, dude. I’d be crawling through your window at two a.m. either way.”

Steve chuckles, unsurprised when it comes out a little wet. Luckily, no tears fall. That might be a step too far. “I’m making dinner.”

“Oooooh!” Eddie says, bouncing up from the bed and dancing around the room. “What’re we having?”

Steve watches him fondly before standing up. He puts Teddy down gently at the top of Eddie’s bed. He looks cozy on Eddie’s worn bedding. At home. Steve trails his fingers over the top of his head, just once, before wandering back into the matchbox living room and into the kitchen. He opens cupboards at random, perusing the ingredients with prejudice.

“Spaghetti,” he declares, fishing noodles, sauce, and meat out of their respective cubbies. “Will Uncle Wayne be here?”

Eddie doesn’t answer right away, so Steve turns, eyebrows raised. Eddie’s smiling at him, strange and fond, like Steve’s his favorite pet and he just did a really neat trick. “Yeah, Uncle Wayne should be back soon,” he says, emphasizing the word uncle strangely.

Steve squints at him before deciding it’s none of his business and getting back to work. It’s a trial working in such a small, unfamiliar kitchen, mostly after Eddie jumps up to sit on the counter, taking up a large portion of the available space to work with. 

Instead of shoving Eddie off the counter so he’d have the space to shape the meatballs, Steve roughly browns the hamburger in a frying pan, adding the canned marinara sauce while the noodles boil.

“Can you make some toast?” Steve asks, using a spatula to keep the hamburger from settling and sticking to the bottom.

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Eddie asks playfully. The kitchen is so small, he doesn’t even bother getting up, just reaches behind him, leaning to one side to give the cupboard he’s blocking enough room to open. He grabs the slightly-squashed wonder bread, slides it out of its plastic wrap, and leans the other direction to slide three slices into the toaster.

“What’re you gonna do for the butter, wise-ass?” Steve asks, unfortunately charmed.

“Well,” Eddie says, drawing out the vowels in a long drawl, “isn’t there a big strong man who could get it for me?” 

When Steve looks away from the simmering sauce to look over at him,, Eddie’s fluttering his eyelashes cartoonishly. Unfortunately for Steve, it makes his fucking heart flutter weirdly. He sighs, a put-upon sense of put-uponness on show, but still goes to retrieve the margarine and a butter knife and a plate for Eddie to put the toast on.

“My hero!” Eddie says.

They finish preparations in silence. Steve tells himself that it’s the heat from the stovetop that makes his cheeks flush.

Uncle Wayne walks through the door just as Eddie’s putting the last plate on the small table. “Dinner!”Eddie singsongs. 

After grunting in affirmation, Uncle Wayne shambles over to the couch, and plops down with a groan to untie his laces. “Smells good, boys,” he says gruffly.

Eddie preens under the attention. It’s a trial for Steve to keep his own mouth from curling up, but he thinks he manages. They all sit around the table, plates full. Forks scrape appreciatively across plastic plates. The spaghetti sauce tastes of canned metal, Eddie had managed to burn the toast. It’s still one of the best meals Steve’s ever partaken in.

“How was school?” Uncle Wayne asks, eyes shifting between the pair of them, implicitly including Steve in the question.

“Stevie sat with me at lunch,” Eddie says enthusiastically, like an enthusiastic child with a new toy. 

“Your funeral,” Uncle Wayne says, not looking up from his meal, even as Eddie interjects with a heated, “hey!” “What about you?”

Steve doesn’t realize he’s asking him until he looks up from his toast and meets Uncle Wayne’s eyes. “Oh!” he says, startled. “Uh, it was fine.”

Uncle Wayne grunts, squinting at him the same way Eddie does – like he wants to peel back his skin and look inside. But he doesn’t push.

Dinner is a quiet affair after that, with only a little kerfuffle over who would wash the dishes. Uncle Wayne won, victory assured when Eddie took his side. Apparently the cook doesn’t do the dishes.

In Steve’s experience, he does both. But this is different. There are three people to lighten the load.

When Steve and Eddie crawl into bed that night, backs pressed together in the small space of Eddie’s mattress, Steve can’t help but ask, “do you really think it could be something good?”

Neither of them have to ask what he’s referring to. They can both feel it, tying them together and reaching across miles to where Will Byers is asleep in a bed of his own.

Steve can feel the depth of the breath Eddie takes in the way his ribs move against his back. His answer is even quieter than the question Steve asked. “No.”

His own breath shutters out of him, shaky. Eddie presses back into him, harder. “We can figure it out,” Steve says, not sure if he means it.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Together.”

Even still, as Steve drifts off that night, Eddie’s back a warm line against his own, he wonders if this is what having a family is like.

Part 46

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso  

[warframestuff]

PRIDE 2024

CELEBRATING INCLUSIVITY AND DIVERSITY THROUGHOUT THE ORIGIN SYSTEM!

There are wondrous vibes aplenty in the Origin System this month as we reach Pride 2024! Join us in celebrating the vibrant LGBTQIA2S+ community in Warframe! We are thrilled to honor and support our incredibly inclusive and diverse player base this Pride month and all year-round.

There are many ways for you to join in on Pride throughout June and onwards. Pick up in-game Pride items, support Warframe Creators, and so much more!

RAINBOW RAILROAD AND TRANS LIFELINE

In honor of Pride 2024, Digital Extremes is immensely proud to support not one, but two organizations offering aid to LGBTQIA2S+ people around the world.

Rainbow Railroad is a global not-for-profit that assists at-risk LGBTQIA+ people worldwide in reaching safety. Their mission is to protect vulnerable communities facing persecution based on sexual orientation, gender identity, and sex characteristics from systemic, state-enabled homophobia and transphobia.

Trans Lifeline is a grassroots hotline and nonprofit organization offering direct financial and emotional support for trans people in crisis. Their mission is to connect trans people with their community and provide the resources everyone needs to survive and thrive.

Both Rainbow Railroad and Trans Lifeline have received $10,000 CAD donations from Digital Extremes, respectively, to kick off Pride 2024! If you’re interested in supporting both organizations yourself, check out the donation pages for Rainbow Railroad and Trans Lifeline!

PRIDE IN-GAME

There are three all-new items available for Pride 2024! Add dazzling Customization like the Pride Glyph III designed by NimkeArts (He/They) and the Pride Display III designed by RoboMythos (She/Her) to your Arsenal via the in-game Market for only 1 Credit each!

Fill your Orbiter with neon Pride! The brand new Neon Pride Wings Decoration is also available in the in-game Market for 25,000 Credits. There is no limit to how many you can purchase, so that your Orbiter, Dormizone and Dojo can all be elevated with dazzling colors.

If you couldn’t pick up any Pride items from previous years — good news! We’ve also brought back the Pride Display I, Pride Glyph I, Pride Display II, Pride Glyph II, and Pride Celebration Color Palette back to the in-game Market for 1 Credit apiece!

These new and returning Pride items are available in the in-game Market until June 30 at 11:59 p.m. ET. If you missed out on the Pride III Glyph and Display, a code will be shared on July 1st for you to claim them both all the way until next June 2025.

FEATURED CREATOR STREAMS

Featured Warframe Creators will be celebrating Pride all throughout June! Watch these streams for 45 minutes each this month and receive Twitch Drops to even further enhance your Arsenal. Just don’t forget to link your Warframe and Twitch accounts ahead of time!

June 1 from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. ET - Miabyte (She/Her)

Drop: Ordis Reified Statue

Twitch: twitch.tv/miabyte

June 1 from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. ET - Nerdtured (He/Him)

Drop: Xaku Prex

Twitch: twitch.tv/nerdtured

June 8 from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. ET - Tibetansun (He/Him)

Drop: Fibonacci Floof

Twitch: twitch.tv/tibetansun

June 8 from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. ET - AuntieTan (She/Her)

Drop: Domestik Chapp Drone

Twitch: twitch.tv/AuntieTan

June 15 from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. ET - LadyTheLaddy (They/She)

Drop: Panzer Vulpaphyla Floof

Twitch: twitch.tv/ladytheladdy

June 16 from 12 p.m. to 2 p.m. ET - MjikThize (She/They)

Drop: Solaris Food Can Decoration

Twitch: twitch.tv/MjikThize

June 22 from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. ET - JamieVoiceOver (She/Her)

Drop: Corbu Shawzin

Twitch: twitch.tv/JamieVoiceOver

June 22 from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. ET - SiejoUmbra (He/Him)

Drop: Warframe Articula

Twitch: twitch.tv/SiejoUmbra

MAKESHIP KALYMOS PLUSHIE

If you’re keen on making a feline friend, Makeship has your back! They’ve brought Albrecht Entrati’s elegant companion Kalymos to life!

The Kalymos plushie campaign is part of Makeship’s Pride event, with 100 percent of Digital Extremes’ net proceeds from sales going towards the Trevor Project, a not-for-profit organization committed to suicide prevention for LGTBQ+ youth. As part of the event, Kalymos will arrive with a Pride Flag cape, based on the flag design by Valentino Vecchietti. You can purchase the Kalymos Plushie today and help make this limited item a reality!

Please note that this is not a charity item associated with the nonprofit organizations mentioned above.

NEW TWITCH & DISCORD EMOTES

Enjoy new Discord and Twitch Emotes to celebrate Pride 2024 via BTTV! Flaunt sensational flair in chat with the Pride Citrine, Pride Limbo, Neon Pride Wings Emote (right), and Neon Pride Wings Emote (left) created by our very own Community artist TadaCharly!

PRIDE TIME STREAMS

Our weekly Prime Time streams are all about celebrating Pride throughout the month of June! So tune in every Thursday at 6 p.m. ET on Warframe’s Twitch channel to hang out with the community team, play Warframe and celebrate Pride!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Luxury and Lessons - 2

Character: concierge!Bucky x heiress!female reader

Summary: A spoiled heiress is sent to work at her family’s luxury hotel, where she clashes with Bucky, the handsome and strict manager who is fiercely dedicated to the hotel’s success.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The alarm clock blared at 4:45 a.m., but it felt like it was the middle of the night to you. You groaned, barely able to open your eyes, and slapped at the snooze button. Five more minutes. Just five more minutes. But those minutes flew by, and soon Bucky was at your door, knocking sharply.

“Miss, it’s 5 a.m.,” his voice came through the door, way too chipper for this hour.

You groaned again, dragging yourself out of bed, your movements sluggish. It was a miracle you even managed to pull on your uniform without falling back into bed. Your head still pounded from the night before, and your body felt heavy, almost as if you were moving through water.

As you walked into the staff room, you could feel the eyes on you, every pair judging. The silence was thick, the air filled with a palpable tension. These were the same employees who had probably seen the video, who knew exactly who you were and what you’d said. You could almost hear their thoughts: "There she is, the spoiled heiress."

Breakfast was a quiet affair, with only the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of low voices breaking the silence. You tried to make yourself as small as possible, wishing you could disappear under the table. When the meal ended, everyone filtered out, leaving you alone with Bucky.

“You lied,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “I thought this uniform was for new employees, but most of them are wearing the same thing as you. You fucking tricked me!”

Bucky didn’t even flinch. He just looked at you with that calm, unbothered expression that was starting to grate on your nerves. “Miss, like I said before, you need to put in the effort first.”

You threw your hands up in frustration. “Me? I look like a fucking waitress!”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “If you want to wear something more distinguished, you’ll have to earn it. The uniform is a symbol of commitment, and right now, you’re just getting started.”

You rolled your eyes, but he wasn’t done.

“Your first task,” he continued, his tone firm, “is to clean up the rooms.”

Bucky stepped closer, his presence somehow even more imposing up close. “You think this is a joke? This is real work. Every employee here starts at the bottom and works their way up. If you want to be taken seriously, you’ll do the same.”

You clenched your jaw, fists balled at your sides. “And if I don’t?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low but steady. “Then you’ll stay exactly where you are: someone who’s never earned their place. Also, you still won’t get access to your funds.”

You stared at him, trying to come up with a retort, but nothing came. He had you trapped, and you both knew it. Finally, you huffed, turning away from him. “Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

Bucky didn’t reply, just gave a small nod, as if your agreement was expected. “Meet me in the service hallway in five minutes. We’ll see what you’re made of.” Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you standing there, feeling smaller than ever.

As you struggle with the task at hand, frustration bubbles up inside you. The bed sheet you’re trying to spread over the mattress keeps slipping, and the steam iron in your other hand feels foreign and cumbersome. "Putting the bed sheet on and then steam ironing it?" you grumble, glancing at Cleo as if searching for some confirmation that this is all unnecessary.

Cleo, calm and composed, finishes her side of the bed and looks at you with a small smile. "Yes, exactly. The guest may not notice every detail, but we do. It’s about creating perfection, even in the unseen." There’s a quiet pride in her voice as she smooths out a wrinkle.

"But why?" you mutter, annoyance creeping into your tone. "The guests don't care. As long as they know the material is silk, they’re happy."

Cleo pauses, her hands still for a moment as she looks at you with something close to pity. "Well… unlike you, we care about our work. For me, this is art."

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue in irritation. "Weirdo," you mumble under your breath, but Cleo hears it and merely shrugs, unfazed.

"You might think this is a bother," Cleo says, folding a towel with precision, "but for us, this work pays our bills, puts food on our tables, and keeps a roof over our heads."

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you feel a pang of something—guilt, maybe?—as you fumble with the sheet, trying to get it right.

You drag the mop across the floor, your back aching with each swipe. The floor is spotless by Cleo's standards, but you can’t help but think it's a waste of time. As you lean down to clean a stubborn spot, you accidentally knock over the bucket of water. It spills everywhere, soaking your shoes and spreading across the freshly cleaned surface.

“Damn it!” you hiss, trying to stop the water with your hands as if that could help.

Before you can even think about the mess, Bucky appears out of nowhere, calm and composed. “Let me handle this,” he says, taking over with effortless precision. Within moments, the spill is cleaned, the floor as pristine as before.

Later, you’re stationed at the swimming pool, tasked with handing out towels and keeping the area tidy. You fumble with the stack of towels, dropping them into the water. A guest raises an eyebrow at you, clearly annoyed.

Before the situation escalates, Bucky steps in, his demeanor soothing the guest’s irritation. “I apologize for the inconvenience,” he says smoothly, offering a fresh towel with a smile. The guest’s frustration melts away, replaced by a grin of admiration for Bucky.

You watch him work, seeing how effortlessly he manages the guests, how they light up at his attention. It’s obvious he loves the hotel, and it’s just as obvious that the guests love him.

Meanwhile, you can feel their eyes on you—cold, judgmental, full of disdain. It’s clear that they all hate you, and the realization stings.

During lunch, you slip away to a quiet corner outside, the only place you can find peace. You light a cigarette with shaking hands, taking a deep drag to steady yourself before dialing Tom’s number.

“Fuck. Fuck! I hate working here. Tom, I want to go home,” you cry, your voice breaking as the weight of the morning crushes you.

There’s a pause on the other end before Tom’s voice comes through, exasperated. “You’ve only worked for a day and you’re already complaining.”

“My knees hurt!” you blurt out, playing the card you swore you wouldn’t.

Tom falls silent, the unspoken tension thick in the air. You know it’s a sensitive topic for both of you—the accident that left you with bad knees and left Tom more protective than ever. His silence is heavy, and after a moment, he ends the call without another word.

You stare at the phone, your heart sinking. “Is he still mad at me?” you whisper to yourself, the unresolved pain between you and your brother weighing you down as much as the job.

You drag the mop across the floor, the repetitive motion doing little to calm your frustration. Your knees ache, a dull reminder of the accident, but you grit your teeth and keep working. As you move down the hallway, you spot Bucky in the historic room, his back to you as he carefully wipes down a framed photograph. You hesitate, curiosity pulling you closer.

Bucky’s hands are gentle, almost reverent, as he cleans the photo. It’s a far cry from the brusque attitude he’s shown you, and it catches you off guard. You inch closer, peering over his shoulder.

“That’s my great uncle,” you say, pointing to the photo in his hands. Your voice comes out softer than you intended.

Bucky glances at you, then back at the photo. “Yup,” he replies simply, his tone neutral. He hangs the photo back on the wall with care, not bothering to look at you again before turning to leave.

As he walks away, you mutter under your breath, “Asshole.”

With him gone, you’re left alone in the room, surrounded by the faces of your ancestors. You gaze at the photos, trying to feel some sort of connection, some pride in the legacy they’ve left behind. But all you feel is emptiness. These people, with their stern expressions and formal attire, are strangers to you.

You run your fingers over the polished wood frame of one of the photos, tracing the outline of your great-great-great-grandparents. They built this empire from the ground up, turned a simple dream into a thriving business. They must be proud, you think, knowing the Serene Resort still stands after all these years.

But you’re not the same. You don’t feel the pride they must have felt. The weight of the legacy feels like a burden, something you’re supposed to carry but don’t know how. You step back, staring at the wall of history, and sigh. The only thing you feel is the suffocating pressure of expectations you don’t know if you can ever meet.

🏨🏨🏨🏨🏨

You collapse onto the bed, the exhaustion of the day hitting you like a wave. Just as you’re about to drift off, there’s a knock on your door. Frowning in confusion, you pull yourself up and open it, only to find Tom standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

Your eyes widen in relief. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms. “Save me!” you exclaim, clinging to him.

He stiffens, then awkwardly pushes you away. “How hurt are your knees?” he demands, his voice edged with irritation.

You look down, caught off guard. “Umm… they don’t really hurt at all,” you admit, feeling awkward under his scrutinizing gaze.

Tom’s eyes narrow, seeing through your half-hearted excuse. “You really don’t get it, do you? Do you understand why I sent you here?”

You stay silent, unable to meet his gaze. The truth is, you’re not sure why he’s being so hard on you, but you’re afraid to admit it.

Tom sighs heavily, the weight of his exhaustion showing. “I won’t spoil you anymore,” he says, his voice firm but tired. He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly worn out from the day’s stress. “I’m done with this. I’m tired.”

He turns to leave, and you call out, desperation creeping into your voice. “Where are you going? Can I stay with you? I thought you’d be in the presidential suite.”

Tom doesn’t look back. “Nope,” he says curtly, his tone final.

“Selfish prick!” you shout, frustration bubbling over. “If you’re not going to help me, then why are you even here?”

He gives you a middle finger without turning around, his back to you as he heads down the hall.

You slam the door shut, the sound echoing through the room. The anger and hurt mix with a deep sense of helplessness as you sink back onto the bed. Tom’s departure leaves you feeling more isolated than ever, questioning what you’re really supposed to be learning from all this.

Unable to sleep, you throw on a robe and quietly slip out of your room. The cool night air greets you as you step onto the balcony, hoping the fresh air might calm your racing thoughts. To your surprise, you find Bucky standing there, holding a steaming mug of hot milk.

You approach him, wrinkling your nose in distaste. “Eww, you drink hot milk? Are you twelve?”

Bucky takes a measured sip, clearly unfazed by your comment. “The CEO, your brother, really cares for you,” he says, his tone surprisingly gentle.

You scoff, crossing your arms defensively. “Him? Impossible.”

Bucky glances at you over the rim of his mug. “He was supposed to be on the other side of the world. But when he heard your call, he dropped everything to be here.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You hadn’t realized just how far Tom had gone for you.

Bucky’s gaze softens slightly. “Some people make sacrifices for you. The least you could do is be grateful.”

You frown, feeling a mix of frustration and something else. “You’re so fucking mean.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Because you’re spoiled. Besides, we’re the same age.”

You’re taken aback. You’d assumed he was older, given his no-nonsense attitude.

“There’s one thing I keep wondering,” Bucky continues, looking out over the balcony. “Today, every time you get humiliated, why don’t you use your status as the hotel owner?”

You hesitate, then shrug. “Because I’m not really part of it.”

Bucky studies you for a moment, the tension in his posture easing slightly. “Then maybe it’s time you start acting like you belong.”

Author's Note: Hey everyone, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! I’m currently grappling with a writer’s block and have tried various methods to spark new ideas, but nothing seems to be working.

Any feedback or suggestions you have would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for your support!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

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[lonestarflight]

STS-45 Atlantis Launch

"With its twin solid rocket boosters and three main engines churning at seven million pounds of thrust, the Space Shuttle Atlantis thunders skyward from Launch Pad 39A. Liftoff of Mission STS-45 occurred at 8:13:40 a.m. EST, March 24, 1992. On board for the 46th Shuttle flight are a crew of seven and the Atmospheric Laboratory for Applications and Science-1 (ATLAS-1). The launch is the second in 1992 for the Shuttle program and Atlantis' 11th flight."

Date: March 24, 1992

NASA ID: 92PC-0644