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pitchsidestories · 21 hours ago

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Lost in Translation II Hannah Hampton x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1502

summary: Reader barely speaks English. She learns her language, just enough to make her smile, and maybe steal her heart. requested

author's note: Hi there, just a quick note to say this isn’t meant to make fun of anyone who struggles with a new language. It’s more about the feeling of alienation that can come with starting over in a new country. We hope you enjoy the fic. <3

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Your heart pounded in your chest.

One last breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was no big deal. All you had to do was open the door and then…

Your mind blanked. And then what?

What were you supposed to say again?

One more breath. Right. You got this. You’d prepared for this.

You pushed open the door to the locker room and immediately, twenty sets of eyes turned to look at you. This had felt way less scary during your first tour of the Chelsea facilities, when the place was empty.

“Hello, my names is… y/n.”, you managed to press out.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you flinched about how odd your voice sounded. You didn’t sound like yourself, too stiff, too foreign.

A woman stepped toward you, a polite smile on her face as she said: “Welcome to the team. I’m your captain, Millie. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. I’m here to help.”

You frowned slightly. That was not what you had learned in your English classes so far. You guessed she was greeting you but you weren’t exactly sure what any of it meant.

“Slower… please.”, you asked her, trying to ignore how much your Italian accent bled through every word.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at Millie: “I think she doesn’t speak English yet.”

Millies eyes widened in understanding. Nodding, she quickly turned back to you: “Sorry. I’m Millie. I’m the captain.”

That, you understood.

“La capitana, okay.”, you nodded back.

“She’s from Italy I think.”, Keira said thoughtfully.

Lucy looked around the room: “Does anyone here speak Italian?”

The other players shook their heads or shrugged.

You had no idea what was going on and that realisation immediately started to sting. These were the people you were supposed to spend every day with from now on and you already felt so left out. Maybe this whole transfer had been a mistake.

“I don’t think so.”, Niamh concluded.

Lauren grinned: “No Italian, Bronze? I thought you were so good with languages?”

“I never played there!”, Lucy shot back. “But maybe she understands Spanish, Portuguese or French better than English.”

She turned to you, expectantly. But you could only shake your head, no idea what she had just said.

Millie groaned dramatically: “Where is Russo when you need her? But we can’t ask an Arsenal player for help.”

“Why not? At least until she settled in.”, Keira chimed in.

“I’ll learn some Italian.”, Hannah announced suddenly, all eyes including yours turned to her.

“No, Keira. And thanks, Hannah. That’s the spirit.”, Millie said, giving Hannah a grateful nod.

Lauren’s voice dripped with scepticism: “It’ll take forever to learn Italian.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic, LJ!“, the blonde goalkeeper replied with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m realistic.“, Lauren shot back, folding her arms.

It had been a few weeks since you joined the Chelsea team. On a rare free evening, your apartment slowly filled with teammates you’d invited for a home-cooked Italian dinner.

Watching them settle around your table made your chest feel warm. It almost felt like home , a rare sense of belonging on this cold, rainy island.

“I hope you like it... it’s my nonna’s recipe.“, you said shyly, smiling as you put the self-made noodles into the boiling water.

The rich aroma of tomato sauce filled the air, making mouths water and stomachs rumble.

Hannah had just arrived. She wrapped you in a warm hug, her arms, as always, surprisingly strong.

“Ciao, y/n. Salsa di pomodoro?”,she asked with a grin.

“Si.“, you beamed at her.

Lifting her chin proudly, she announced: “Imparo l’italiano.”

“Eh, Hannah, you’re learning so fast.“, you observed, genuinely impressed by how determined she’d been to stay true to her word since the day you joined.

Lauren snorted:“She’s such a nerd.”

“No, she just wants everyone to feel welcome., Sjoeke said warmly. “I even taught her some German.”

Wieke leaned in light-heartedly: “That’s good. Dutch isn’t too far off from German.”

“Sooner or later she’ll be able to talk to everyone,” the red-haired defender added in a matter-of-fact tone.

Sighing softly, Guro looked between the two of you:“I think it’s really cute. Also... have you girls noticed how they look at each other?”

“Don’t even start.“, Lauren groaned playfully.

But Catarina smirked: “No, I noticed it too.”

“Ever since she first walked in.“, Millie added dreamily, twirling her fork through the air.

Hannah ignored the teasing. Her attention was entirely on you. Her blue eyes sparkled in the flickering candlelight, soft and focused as if the noise around her had faded into silence.

“Maybe we could... imparare... uhm... insieme?”, she asked, a little hesitantly.

You grinned:“Ah, sure... I like that. Molto.”

The goalkeeper looked at you, her voice low and fond: “Maybe you don’t need it anymore. Your English is getting molto buono.”

“You're always kind.” You felt flattered by her observation, a slight blush rising to your cheeks.

Hannah shrugged nonchalantly: “I'm just being onesta.”

“Of course.“, you chuckled, a little nervously.

The blonde raised an eyebrow:“Do you need help with anything?”

“No, sit down, it's almost ready.“, you replied, waving her off gently.

You quickly placed the pasta and sauce on the table, muttering with a small smile: “Buon appetito, everyone.”

While everyone began to dig in, you noticed Hannah still looking at you.

“Grazie mille.”, she said with a polite smile.

You bit your lip and looked down as you sat at the table, unsure how to respond.

Thankfully, Lucy chimed in: “That tastes great, y/n.”

Yes, you were new and struggled with the language but you could tell she meant it.

“Thank you, Lucia. For me, it’s like il sapore of home.”, you italo-englished your way through the sentence.

Lucy gave you a wry grin: “Trust me I get that.”

“I knew you would.”, you giggled, turning back to your pasta.

Your teammates really loved the dinner. The room was filled with laughter and beautiful mess of Italian, English and exaggerated hand gestures. You eased into it. For the first time in weeks, the feeling of homesickness almost lifted from your chest because it felt all so familiar all of a sudden. You didn’t expect to have so much fun that night.

They were showing you, in every small gesture and effort to include you that you belonged in this team. You were wanted and it was freeing, on and off the pitch.

So a few days later, when Chelsea won the FA Cup, you truly let yourself enjoy it. The celebrations went on until the early hours of the morning and sleep was the last thing on your mind.

In a quiet moment, you stood of to the side, sipping your drink. You let all the emotions of this season wash over you, grateful to have a minute to yourself when Hannah seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

In her typical sunshiny manner, she beamed at you, holding out her glass.

You clinked yours against hers, smiling up at her: “We will see each other in Svizzera, va bene?”

It was less of a question and more of a promise. She had become such a central part in your life in London that you knew you would really miss her during the summer break.

She nodded: “Va bene. I can’t wait.”

“I’ll miss you.”, you admitted in a rush of boldness.

“I will miss you too.”, Hannah said, her voice softer than usual.

“And the team too.”, you added quickly, suddenly shy.

The grin was back on her face: “I hope not as much as me.”

Was that really flirting? Or were you just misunderstanding again? It didn’t matter, you took the risk.

“Hannah? Have you ever been in Italia? You could practice Italiano there…”, you said, blinking innocently at her.

She smirked: “Is this an invito? Because I will say yes and come visit you.”

You nodded: “It is.”

“I will be there. And you will have to show me everything.”

“Prometto.”, you said. You hadn’t realised how close your faces had gotten. Your noses almost touched. You would only have to lean forward and your lips would have met. You allowed yourself that sweet little daydream. It would have been so easy, just letting your bodies do the talking. No other translation needed.

Sjoeke let that little dream bubble burst.

Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and alcohol as she called for you: “Come on, girls. You don’t want to miss the sunrise!”

“We’re coming.”, Hannah replied, looking surprisingly flustered too.

She took your hand in hers, fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world as you walked toward the pink-orange sky. Electricity buzzed through your whole body.

Because this right here didn’t need any words. This you understood.

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twovialsofamortentia · 21 hours ago

Note

plzzzzz james smut where y’all r close friends and kind of randomly become fwb???? subby james that’s a giver🙏🙏🙏

🎧 into you - ariana grande

a/n: this is literally straight porn and i apologise if it’s terrible because i’m high as a fucking kite

warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, casual sex, sub!james, not proofread + i was fried when i wrote it so

When you were still students at Hogwarts, you were no stranger to seeing James before he went off to get ready for a quidditch match, because he often came up to ask you where you and the marauders would be watching, so that he could pick you all out in the stands as a reminder that he was a star player and you were all rooting for him.

Now, though, James and Sirius were returning, a couple of years later to play some matches for Gryffindor- some sort of alumni thing that you didn’t quite care about, you just wanted to see your old stomping ground and make fun of Sirius for having lost his touch.

A couple of times when you were still in school, you had listened in on the pep talks he gave the rest of the team, when he was in his quidditch gear. But James had never come up to you or approached you directly in his quidditch gear, so when he came pacing up to you in the courtyard decked head-to-toe, you were slightly taken aback.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, bewildered, rising quickly to your feet from the sill you were perched in. You had snuck away to the courtyard whilst it was empty to have a cigarette before the game, the way you used to, for nostalgia’s sake.

“This game’s gonna go all wrong!”

Your eyes widened, and you stumbled forward to catch up with James as he stormed off back in the direction of the quidditch pitch. His legs were long, so you almost had to run to catch up with him.

“James, what on earth are you talking about? It’s-” you glanced down at your watch, cursing yourself because your diverted focus made you fall out of step with James. “You’re supposed to be playing in fifteen minutes!”

“Billie said something’s going to go wrong.” James insisted, overemphasising every word to really hammer it home how stressed he was about this.

You rolled your eyes, sighing. James’ issue was that he was too trusting. He was in no way gullible, because he was a a prankster himself, and quite simply just smarter than that, but if someone was telling him something that they believed to be the truth, James took it as gospel.

So, naturally, this meant that James heard what Sybill Trelawney had to say when she came bounding up to him as he came out of the changing rooms. James had a lot of time for Sybill- although he used to make fun of her sometimes, he respected her for being so honest- and he knew that she was your friend. So when she told him the game was going to be a disaster, it freaked him all the way out.

“Sybill said that to you?” you asked quizzically, following James into the now empty changing room.

James stopped in front of you and turned to face you, pushing a hand roughly through his hair, so it tugged, the way he always did when he was nervous. He let out an exasperated sigh, before explaining:

“She- she came running up to me, said she’d seen it, something’s gonna go horribly wrong, that we shouldn’t play.”

“O-kay, calm down,” you began, unsure of why James was getting so worked up. “What d’you mean, go wrong?”

“I- I don’t know! That’s just what she said! I’m gonna have to go and tell the boys we can’t play, she was really, serious, mate-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, James, you have to play.”

James groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. He shook his head again, even though you could see on his face that he was thinking about it. He was nervous, now, that was what it was. He had got in his own head the way that he did, and he wasn’t helping himself.

You weren’t sure what the best strategy was to deal with James when he got worked up like this. It was usually a job for Sirius- they’d go off somewhere and come back two hours later laughing.

“I- I can’t! There’s no way- we- Billie said we shouldn’t, if she’s right-“

You vaguely remembered Sirius saying something along the vein of giving James a ‘shock to the system.’ You weren’t sure how that made any sense, though, because James’ system seemed pretty fucking shocked as it was.

But James wasn’t calming down, in fact, he was getting a whole lot more worked up, and that was starting to stress you out, so in your frantic rush to sort him the fuck out so that he would get on the pitch and play quidditch, you grabbed his face either side, leaned up onto your tiptoes, and kissed him, hard.

James kissed back before he could think about it, his mouth moving against yours in perfect sync, and it wasn’t until you took a step back that his eyes widened and he realised what you’d just done.

“Uh..” he began, but you cut him off quickly.

“Sorry.” you sighed regretfully. “That was stupid, but you were panicking, and I couldn’t think of any other way to shut you up.”

James nodded slowly, taking in what had just happened and the fact that, as a result, he was already painfully hard. He blinked down at you, eyelashes fluttering as his mouth opened and closed a few times, processing.

He probably should have walked out and found the rest of the team. Or thanked you for calming him down and agreeing to just be friends and move on. He should have done literally anything else other than what he did. That would have been the smart decision. But this was James, and quite frankly, in these types of situations, he was really rather stupid.

“So, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, please do.” you nodded, and then James was on you again, hands on your face, lips on yours. His fingers trailed into your hair as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You cursed yourself for doing it, but you took two steps back and pressed yourself up against the nearest wall, then reached out to yank at the bottom of James’ quidditch jersey. He reciprocated, sliding his hands up under your shirt, and, like the man that he was, grasping both of your tits, kneading them tightly in his hands until that wasn’t enough.

You reached for the hem of your shirt and tugged it off over your head, and as you threw it away, you caught James’ gaze. It made you realise what you were doing, and who you were doing it with.

“Listen, I’m not- not like, in love with you, or anything- I just-“

“Yeah, yeah me neither-“ James huffed, reaching behind you to unclip your bra. “Just- fuck, I need you.”

“You’re gonna miss the start of the match-”

“I’ll be quick.” James told you. You couldn’t argue with that. A smirk spread across your lips and you gave James a playful shove, so that he took two steps back, dragging you with him by your hand, and sat down on the bench in the middle of the changing room. You pulled your wand out of your pocket and pointed it behind you to lock the door, before shimmying out of the rest of your clothes, leaving a little trail.

James watched you, blinking rapidly, unsure of whether or not he’d hit his head and this was a strange comatose dream- him, back at school, about to have sex with a girl he’d been friends with his whole life.

“How are you gonna fuck me with your clothes on, mate?” you asked sarcastically, hands on your hips as you waited for James.

“Oh- right.” James lifted his hips to slide the bottom half of his quidditch gear off. He hissed when the cold air hit his leaking cock, but when you climbed on top of him and buried it all the way inside you, James let out a strangled whine, voice cracking.

You huffed, and let out a breathless laugh in disbelief that you were actually about to start riding James, in the quidditch changing rooms, as if this was an enactment of some childish fever dream you’d had some years ago.

But, when James’ hands flew to your waist and his eyelids fluttered shut as he started to rock you back and forth against him, you realised there was nothing funny about it.

And James looked good. Pupils blown, lips swollen, everything you’d never expected to see from him, and now he was whimpering little huffs of your name and leaning you back so he could bounce you off of his cock.

“Oh-!” you gasped, dropping your head on James’ shoulder, driving your hips down. “Fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck-” James breathed heavily, eyes scanning your face rapidly, taking in the way it softened and tensed when you were feeling different levels of pleasure.

It was all James could do not to blow a load inside you as soon as you started riding him, but when you steadied your hands on the coathooks behind his head and started actually bouncing on him, sliding yourself up and down his length, James had to try a lot harder.

“Hah-!” he breathed, tilting his head back to look up at you as you hovered over him. “Ah-! Fuck, yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! Please-”

That sent a shockwave of arousal tearing through you like a bullet. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you let out a moan, and it was becoming increasingly more obvious that having sex with James was a strange sort of back-and-forth exchange: you got off on him being so desperate, and he was desperate to get you off. It was sickeningly cyclical, and it made you think that this could well become more than a one-off, because it just seemed to work so well.

Rather presumptuously, you had expected James to be like any other man and see it through to his own orgasm before worrying about you, if at all. That idea was proven strikingly wrong when James lifted you up and laid you down across the bench.

So you opened your mouth to tell him it was okay, that you were short on time so he could just fuck you, but then he sank his two middle fingers into your cunt and curved them up to prod at your g-spot.

You saw stars.

“Fucking hell!” you hissed, throwing your head back. Your hands came up to grip James’ arms, fingers wrapping around his biceps, squeezing them to steady yourself, mostly, but also because you’d spent your whole life looking at them and curiosity got the better of you.

James’ jaw dropped in interactional synchrony with yours, and he let out a quiet little laugh at the caught-off-guard look on your face, knowing he must have been doing something right.

“Feel good?” he asked you, head tilted to one side as he began to speed up the pace of his fingers.

“Yeah,” you answered, punctuating it with a low moan. “Yeah, fuck.”

James smiled, pleased to be doing a good job, and started pumping his fingers in and out of you harder. Then faster. Then harder again.

Then you were losing your breath. You let the moans and curses tumble freely from your lips, becoming more and more frequent the closer you got to the edge.

But it wasn’t until James used his free hand to hook your right leg over his shoulder and bury his face between your thighs that you really screamed. When he dragged his tongue over your clit as his fingers brushed against the right spot inside you, you had to slap a hand over your mouth, inhaling sharply through your nose.

“Mmph-” James hummed against your core, bringing his hand from under your thigh to tug your hand away from your mouth. If he hadn’t been desperate to suffocate himself against your cunt, he’d have told you he was desperate to hear your pretty noises, but James’ mouth was otherwise occupied.

You let out what was more of an undignified, strangled sob than another moan when you came, and you felt warmth shooting out of you for the first time in your life. You gasped as you felt it soaking the backs of your thighs and the bench underneath you, and when James pulled away, grinning like the devil, you noticed it had coated his face, too.

Chasing your other release, you unhooked your leg from James’ shoulder and wrapped it around his waist to drag him closer so that he could slip inside you again.

“I’m not-” James sighed, eyes flicking closed. “Not gonna last-! That was so hot.”

“Don’t care, just give it to me.”

James nodded feverishly, gripping you by the hips and dragging you all the way down onto his cock, bottoming out inside you. He wasted no time in snapping his hips flush with yours again, and then again, until his glasses were sitting wonky on his face his hair had fallen down over his eyes.

You let your hands come to rest above you, one wrist either side of your head, and you could have sworn that when James’ fingers slipped between the two of you to dote on your sensitive clit again, everything went slow motion.

It took a couple of minutes of James circling the bundle of nerves to get you really whining again, but James was more than happy to oblige because of how desperately he craved the feeling of you coming undone beneath him again. It was almost imperative to his own release, it seemed.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned, long and drawn out. You were seriously close. Again. “Please don’t stop.”

“Course not.” James told you smugly. After huffing out a laugh at the notion that he’d ever be able to walk away without making you feel good, he leaned down to catch your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue slipping straight past your teeth and into your mouth.

As your body tensed more and more by the second, you found yourself wondering if you would have ever imagined James being so eager to please you if you hadn’t seen the way he was acting now. But that train of thought was hastily derailed when you felt another orgasm sneaking up on you.

“James,” you mused. “Like that, yeah.”

“Like- like this?” he asked breathlessly, gripping your hips tighter, fucking you faster. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Mhm?”

“Yeah.” he nodded. “Yes. Please- please.”

Even as James’ hips were stuttering against yours and he was pulling out, cum leaking agent your thigh, he was still pushing circles into your clit.

“Fuuuck- Ah! Oh, fuckfuckfuck, yes.” he babbled, dragging his hand up and down his length to finish himself off, although it was too close a call for his liking.

When James bad gotten over the worst of his orgasm, and his lightheadedness had subsided, you were cumming, then, and you came so violently that your thighs began to shake while your hips were still bucking upwards against James’ hand.

When you had finally recovered, James pulled away from you and sat back on his knees gazing down at you. However, his eyes drifted away momentarily, and he’d caught sight of the clock on the wall.

“Shit!” he gasped. “Fuck, I’m late!”

“Well, they can’t exactly start without you, mate.” you replied plainly, not making the effort to move just yet.

James thought for a second.

“True.”

“Maybe get dressed anyway?!” you laughed, finally sitting up. James laughed too, pulling his quidditch gear back on and making sure it wasn’t overly askew.

You got dressed, too, and it was really an effort not to laugh at the absurdity of what you’d just done, where you’d done it, and who you’d done it with.

“James.” you said as he was about to unlock the door with his wand.

He turned around.

“Hm?”

“I think,” you began, folding your arms. “Think I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

It was more obvious in that moment than ever who you were dealing with here, because the wicked grin that spread across James’ face was so uniquely his, and the casual pout and pretending to think about it was so playfully irritating that it could only have come from him.

James unlocked the door with a swish of his wand and a muttered alohamora, before turning back to face you.

“Yeah, alright.” he shrugged.

“Only if you win the match, though.”

“There’s no way I’ll lose now, mate.” James laughed heartily, seemingly thoroughly amused at the notion he’d ever even think about losing whilst he was still riding on the high of making you feel so good. “Obviously I’m not as unlucky as I thought.”

You giggled, shaking your head. Leaning against the coat hooks of the bench you’d just disgraced, you folded your arms and watched James go.

He took a moment before went, picking up his broom from where he’d discarded it in the doorway during his initial panic. Then he fired you a mischievous wink, pulled the hood of his cloak up and slipped out of the changing room, headed for the pitch.

#marauders #marauders era #dead wizards from the 70s #dead gay wizards from the 70s #james potter #james potter smut #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader

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billysgirllol · 2 days ago

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“i’d ask ‘em to play games with me, because i think that’d be a fun way to engage. make sure we have a party.” lucy gray grins, thinking she’s got it ALL figured out. “billy bonney, how am i supposed to be takin’ this conversation seriously without laughing,” as she’s already doing in between her words, “when you say fart filled sleepin’ bag.” another laugh, head tilting back as it does when she’s just filled with too much giddiness. “but yeah…” actually, that’ll DO it, reminded of pat’s vile trick today. “that makes me feel weird, knowin’ now how innocent he played it off too— it’s really like he can convince you he wasn’t doing it, billy,” her voice takes on a serious tone now, a hint of fear even curling around the soft way she speaks. “and it’s overall gross thinkin’ on it.” he was putting his hands on her body intentionally. makes her heart drop in her stomach but then anger settles in it, a fire starts to grow then revenge rears it’s head— what could she do? mind gets to pondering furiously. a snake, she bets. she bets she could find a harmless one and stick it DOWN his fart filled sleeping bag early in the morning… she ain’t one to just let things go after an injustice has been served. “wish we had the camper all to ourselves.” lucy gray frowns, wishing none of the smelly guys were there and they could have the rv or a rv all to their selves. “i’d love that a million times over, you could be him, but— you also can’t. cause then i’d be mad, if i can’t be your ariel.” doe eyes roll at just thinking of some girl other than her acting along aside HER prince eric. “best night?” brows lift, eyes softening in surprise, heart doing more flips as their eyes meet.

“yeah,” her eyes drop back to his shoulders, the cool metal of her B necklace laying back against her chest when she raises up a little making her realize it’s there, wishing she could do all kinds of crazy things to his shoulders, “those are some good lookin’ shoulders.” she blurts, then laughs to herself because she’s embarrassed. cheeks becoming inflamed at even THINKING of said crazy things… which causes her to scrub his head faster when alerted to how heated her down below feels, swirling all around until every inch of his head has been covered. what a crime, to continually fantasize about your best guy friend. she silently scolds herself because WHY does she always end up doing that? but then again… dreamy eyes drifting to the starry sky, right hand scrubbing his hair at a slower pace now, left hand touching the necklace on her chest, how can she refrain? when he irritates her and makes her mad, but he also makes her mad… he’s the love of her life since he saved her on his fence, every time he looks at her with his sweet and beautiful eyes, when his hand randomly comes up and strokes her cheek, when he’s a taylor swift song and she’s wearing his initial around her neck, when he’s crazily protective of her, all of that makes her insanely in love with him and she can’t help it just travels in between her legs. it’s so romantic, the way emotions and feelings are crafted to fuel a desire to make love to someone. if this isn’t all just a heat of a moment thing, a plan that her body is just trying to trick her just to reproduce, and she still wakes up tomorrow wanting to trust in him again because right now she trusts in neither— one day she is gonna marry him and drag him back to a moonlit lake, but actually act on kissing him.

“mhm, sure will. i think a late night talk show would be fun.” lucy gray responds, feeling like a hairstylist having chitchat with her client. “they are, they definitely are, i agree. a group of girls is vastly different than a group of guys. which is funny, how that all came to be.” she muses, laughing that billy notices it too. girls feel safer and more peaceful and better smelling to be around and then guys are less inviting feeling, smell bad and can’t really have an overall pleasant time because there’s too much testosterone and always someone is either flirting or being a dog in some other kind of way. “course i like them a lot, i love them. and remember? little ole me always said you were a prince, because of your curls. first thing i noticed about you.” she reminisces, retelling her favorite story for the hundredth time to him. but she doesn’t mind, she loves any chance getting to tell it over again. “why? you havin’ fun?” playing innocent, shyly dipping down some more when he turns around. her heart exploding like fireworks when his affectionate hand reaches up to stroke her cheek, it’s so darling and so sweet. nothin’ is more swoon inducing than that. it’s like he’s trying to make her fall into his arms and start attacking him in kisses… well, he’s certainly not makin’ it easy for her. a laugh sounds from her at him saying he’s getting BAPTIZED, lucy gray plugging his ears for him when he goes under before letting go once he comes back up. “alright, great job.” she grabs her shampoo next, loading her palm with some blend of coconut and vanilla organic curly hair oriented shampoo then taking both palms and spreading it over his locks. fingers scrubbing deep into his roots, moving from the top of his head to the sides.

#verse: modern.#👏 CONGRATS TO US 😂 THANK YOU FOR SAVING IT

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sourkiki · 8 hours ago

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INK SURPRISE.

VOL. 15: you surpised your boyfriends by getting matching tattoos of their names on. needless to say, they love it. what better way to show how much they love it by spoiling you?

wc: 2259 𑁛 explicit mature content established+threesome relationship dom! 西村力 & dom!박성훈 x sub! fem! reader non-idol au other 02z made a brief cameo pussy eating+fingering unprotected sex (wrap it up) blowjobs ⪩⪨ usage of pet names service dom! riki sunghoon's a tease here ❀ catalogue

note. fun fact: this was only supposed to have sunghoon but when i saw my twt timeline about riki potentially having a tattoo, i ranted to my moot aka @jun2ki (bless you btw) and ended up making it hoonki x reader. this is for you too, i guess... @kireilien

“I think my girlfriend doesn’t love me anymore.”

Silence.

Sunghoon’s sudden statement caused his friends: Jay and Jake to stop what they were doing. Jay’s hand froze in midair while holding a fork. Jake, on the other hand, was attempting to steal some of Jay’s fries. They shared a confused and bewildered look, unable to believe what they were hearing. Jay cleared his throat, lowered his fork and placed it on his plate.

“Why? Did you two argue?” He questioned, concerned, slapping Jake’s hand without looking when he continued his attempt. Jake flinched, withdrawing his hand and rubbed the now sore spot, huffing his cheeks and muttered something inaudible under his breath.

Sunghoon shook his head, furrowing his thick eyebrows as he recalled back. “No, we rarely argue. You know that, Jay-ah. I don’t know why but she’s been ignoring me.”

“Ignoring you how? Like does she pretend you don’t exist or?” Jake chimed in.

“We don’t fuck anymore,” he deadpanned and Jay picked the wrong time to take a sip of his drink, only for him to end up choking. Jake scrunched his nose, disgust written all over his face.

“And to think we’re worried because something actually happened but no, it’s just your hornyass who can’t go without having sex for a month,” the eldest deadpanned after recovering from his near-death experience.

“This is a serious matter to me! You don’t know what it’s like to go without sex for a month!” Sunghoon complained, lightly knocking his head against the table. His slight raise of volume caused the nearby students to shoot them a weird and judgemental look, to which his friends were embarrassed by, on his behalf.

“Have you talked to Riki about this?” Jake asked, regaining his composure.

Sunghon huffed, raising his head and resting his cheek on the palm of his left hand. “Yeah, he’s just as confused as I am.”

Again, his friends shared a look. “Well, whatever it is, I hope you guys can figure it out. You know what they say, communication is key.”

“Not the time for your smartass words, Jake.”

“Jay, please just shut the fuck up.”

Unknown to your two, sweet beloved boyfriends, you were doing this for a reason. It’s a surprise for them and you didn’t want to ruin it. Which was why you had only told your shared group of friends except for Sunghoon and Riki. You could only pray that Jake won’t ramble his mouth off, considering how he has the tendency to spill secrets. Right now, you’re seated by the dining table in your dorm as you worked on your report that’s due by the end of the week. You weren’t sure how many hours had passed, drawing a long, heavy sigh from you as you removed your glasses to rub your temples, groaning in frustration.

“Baby? You alright?”

Looking over your shoulder, your features softened to see Riki closing the door behind him, his bag casually hanging over his left shoulder. You didn’t get up as he was quick to be by your side. He cupped your face, thumbs running along the skin underneath your eyes. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, burying your face in his stomach.

“What happened to your dance class?” You asked, voice muffled.

“It got cancelled. The water pipe in the practice room bursts and they need two weeks to fix it,” he replied, unable to help himself as he squished your cheeks until your lips were fully puckered.

“Riki!” You whined, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend. He ducked his head, planting a kiss on your forehead. The small display of affection was enough to turn your face red as compared to Sunghoon, Riki prefers to shower you with love behind closed doors.

“Sorry, you’re too cute,” he apologized but the tone he used said otherwise. He looked at your laptop, curiosity shown on his face on the bright screen. “How long have you been working on your report?”

“Uh, a few hours?” You answered meekly, averting your eyes in shame when he arched an eyebrow at you.

“We’ve talked about this, haven’t we, hm? You shouldn’t be pushing yourself too hard,” he clicked his tongue, lightly poking your forehead, eliciting a whine from you.

“I’m sorry. I really need to finish it and I’ve been busy working on my other projects too,” you sighed.

Riki coos. “Aw, poor baby. Let me take care of you, please?”

You nodded, squeaking when he easily lifted you up, like you weighed nothing. It was by instinct that you wrapped your arms around him, like a koala bear as he brought you to the bedroom. Riki gently placed you down, only for him to capture your lips in a needy, intense kiss—the contrast giving you whiplash. You gasped when he teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, giving him the chance to slide his tongue as he explored your mouth with one, thorough lick. It’s enough to make you feel all tingly, your strength leaving your body as you let him do as he pleased.

His hands began working on removing your clothes but he paused when he realized you were wearing his hoodie. It completely engulfs you with the hem reaching your thighs. Riki swore when he also realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath the hoodie and shorts.

“You’re such a tease, aren’t you? Wearing nothing but my clothes,” he groaned against your lips, hand making itself at home between your legs, drawing a breathless mewl from you.

“You’re already dripping wet for me. Looks like someone’s needy,” he purrs, about to push your hoodie up when a voice interrupts the two of you.

“What’s this? Starting without me? How cruel.”

You turned to the door where Sunghoon was, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Despite the laid-back tone, you could tell he was barely holding himself back, with how his eyes darkened as he took in your current state. You whined, barely able to speak as you made grabby hands at him. Sunghoon softened as he entered the bedroom, sitting behind you while Riki remained in between your legs. Sunghoon lifted you up, placing you on his lap with you leaning against his chest. He rested his large, warm hands on your thighs, holding you down when Riki lowered himself to his elbows.

“Shh, just relax and let us take care of you,” Sunghoon murmured into your ear, planting kisses along the expanse of your neck.

Riki pushed the hoodie up and up, only for him to freeze, gaining Sunghoon’s attention. What they saw took their breaths away.

They stared at the tattoo—their names, imprinted on both sides of your hips, just above your hip bones. Their minds blanked out as Riki’s hand brushed against it, sending shivers down your spine. You, on the other hand, were nervous. You didn’t expect them to find out this early as you wanted to wait until you’ve fully recovered.

“..Is this why you’ve been avoiding us?” Sunghoon asks in awe.

You squirmed about on his lap, unable to face either of them. “I wanted this to be a surprise. Does it look bad?”

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, turning your chin towards him. “No, it doesn’t. And considered us getting surprised. We didn’t expect you to do this. But, we like it.”

You glanced at Riki, who nodded his head. He didn’t give you time to react, licking a long, flat stripe along your dripping folds. You visibly flinched, instinctively trying to close your legs but Sunghoon was faster. He tightened his grip, nails digging into your thighs, forcing you to remain still. In an attempt to distract you, he kisses you, eagerly swallowing your sounds while Riki eats you out, like a man on a mission.

You outright whined at the feeling of Riki sliding three fingers in, pumping them at a slow pace while Sunghoon had reached down, spreading your pussy lips apart, granting the younger to slide his fingers deeper in.

“F-Fuck, ngh, t-too much,” you panted, blindly reaching out with your hands as you grabbed onto a fistful of Riki’s hair while your other hand grabbed onto Sunghoon’s wrist, the very same wrist that’s spreading you apart for the younger.

“Too much? But your body says otherwise,” Riki chuckled, thumb gently pressing down on your clit, laughing at how you whined at the mere contact, hips jerking up but he withdrew his thumb, fingers still inside you.

You realized through your blurry state that while your two boyfriends are still fully clothed, you were completely bare. The huge contrast shows the type of roles the three of you have in your relationship. Your ears registered the rustling sounds of the sheets behind you and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon had lifted you off his lap and placed you on the sheets. You whined at the lack of warmth but he was quick to soothe you by running his hand through your hair.

“Open up, princess,” he softly demands, now standing near the bed with his sweatpants and boxers lowered, just enough to free his hardened cock. The sight made your mouth water and you parted your lips, jaw slackening as you let Sunghoon gently pull you forward until your head was dangling off the edge of the bed.

“Hyung, I’m busy here,” Riki whines, sending the older a light-hearted glare and you would have cooed, if Sunghoon didn’t push his cock into your mouth.

Your eyes widened, tears blurring your vision as he continued until the tip hit the back of your throat. Just like Riki, Sunghoon didn’t give you time to breathe, moving his hips in a lazy pace as he fucks your mouth. You tried your best to keep up, tongue darting along the girth as you traced the outline of his veins protruding but it was easier said than done. You couldn’t focus, not when Riki had detached his mouth from your pussy. Heck, you weren’t even aware that you had come undone, thanks to Riki’s skillful tongue.

His chin and lips glistened underneath the light, covered in a thick layer of your slick. Riki wiped them away with the back of his hand, fumbling to tug his sweatpants and boxers down. He scooped the goop dripping from your pussy, using it to lube his cock. Riki grabbed your left leg, tossed it over his shoulder and pushed it in one go. You couldn’t moan, not when your mouth’s full of cock and could only let out a high-pitched, muffled sound.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Riki rasped, hands drawing circles on your hips.

“Poor princess. Can’t even speak,” Sunghoon coos, faux sweetness evident in his voice as he looks down at you, smirking at your teary eyes staring back at him.

Riki begins thrusting into you. The bedroom was filled with the loud, lewd and obscene squelching sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, rearranging your insides to the shape of his cock. Sunghoon, on the other hand, groaned at his incoming climax. He didn’t warn you, spilling his cum down your throat. You gagged but managed to swallow them all and he pulled out from your now swollen, bruised lips with an audible ‘pop’ sound.

Now that your mouth’s empty, you were able to let out the sounds you’ve been holding back.

“R-Riki, fuck, p-please,” you whined, throwing one arm over to shield your eyes when you realized how Sunghoon was merely watching, like you’re putting on a show for him and only him.

“Yeah? You wanna cum? Wanna let Riki know how good he’s making you feel?” Sunghoon asks, now sitting on the edge of the bed, glancing at Riki, who understood his intentions and stopped thrusting, allowing Sunghoon to manhandle you, returning to your position—you sitting on his lap.

Riki had to shuffle closer, sliding his cock back in and this time, he pounds into you with newfound determination. The determination to make you cum for the second time. Sunghoon leaned down, angling your head towards his to kiss you. You felt like you were being tortured, your senses on overdrive as your two boyfriends showered you with nothing but love and affection.

“Ngh, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you cried out, breaking the kiss. Your head dipped backwards until it landed on Sunghoon’s shoulders, eyelids fluttering shut.

“That’s it. Cum for me, princess,” Riki coaxes and you came with a high-pitched moan, chanting his name like a prayer.

Your thighs trembled from the intensity of your climax, body going pliant as you slumped against Sunghoon’s chest. A soft whine left your lips when you felt Riki spilling deep inside you, making you feel full of his cum. You panted heavily, trying to catch your breath while Riki slowly pulled out.

“Wha-!?” You squeaked when your vision turned upside down.

You gulped at the sight of Sunghoon now hovering over you. Glancing down, your breath hitched to see him aligning his cock against your sensitive entrance. You wanted to push him away, protests forming at the tip of your tongue but Riki was faster. He was instantly behind you, pinning your wrists behind your back as he rested his head on your right shoulder.

“Ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you. We did say we’ll take good care of you, didn’t we, hyung?” He murmured, directing the last sentence to Sunghoon.

He nodded, eyes darkening a shade. “Yea, so you better prepare yourself, princess. Because we’re not stopping until we’re satisfied.”

tags list: @chuhees, @byshens, @hoonstqr, @doucious, @emisluvr, @riqomi, @onlyywwon, @jjung-v, @minjunis, @rikisoup, @i-love-hannah-more-than-chan.

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sydwritess · 21 hours ago

Note

Hey you :)

I loved Younger or Older :)

I have an idea for Lewis, where the reader is twenty-eight and has darker skin and black hair, kinda like Simone Ashley :)

And the reader is his personal assistant and the whole grid even journalits notice how Lewis looks at her so they all play matchmaker for them :)

This would be lovely :)

P.A or More?

Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

Summary: You are a personal assistant for Lewis Hamilton. Over the years, you have grown closer together. One day, the grid tries to pair you both up, leading in more than you thought.

Second Person POV

Notes: Requests are open!

You have been Lewis's personal assistant for a couple of years now. You were mostly behind the scenes in everything, but when he left Mercedes and joined Ferrari, that's when you showed up more.

Whether it was work issues, personal event issues, or late night calls. You were there.

You were sitting in his garage at the British GP, waiting for him to get done with his debrief.

You were going over notes and your calendar when he popped up in front of you.

"Hi." He said, smiling.

"Hey, you've got media next. Are you going?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I suppose so. Though I'd much rather stay in here." He said, sitting down next to you. He looked over at you. That same look in his eyes when he always looked at you.

"I think you'd be alright if you skipped once." You say.

"Perfect-"

"Hey! Lewis, Y/n, how are you." Charles said happily, walking with George to the two of you.

"Good man, good race." Lewis said, shaking hands with Charles.

"How's the agenda going Y/n. Oh- don't forget to add date night." Charles said slyly, pointing to a random Tuesday.

"Date night?" You ask, leaning back in your chair to look at Lewis.

"There is no date night. He's full of shit." Lewis laughs.

"Yeah, you know.... date night." George said, raising his eyebrows. He looked between you and Lewis. But you went back to your work.

"Will you stop?" Lewis muttered to George.

"We just need to have a chat.... do you mind y/n?" George asked. You shook your head.

George, Charles, and Lewis went a couple of steps away and began talking.

"Dude. You just need to ask her out." Charles says. You coukd hear all of them loud and clear.

"She's my assistant. Do you know how much shit me and her will get if people knew we went on a date?" Lewis said.

"You don't care... do you?" George asked.

"Care about what?"

"Yourself. You keep mentioning 'you and her' but it's mostly her your looking after... isn't it?" He backs.

"Ohhh I think so." Charles agreed.

"Will you just stop."

"Not if you ask her out. We see the way you look at her man." Charles said. That made you laugh slightly.

The boys all turn their heads to you.

"What's so funny?" George asks.

"I can hear like... everything." You say, hiding your smile.

"Your fucking twats." Lewis said, walking back over to you.

"So... Is there anything fun for the rest of the day?" Charles asks, trying to switch the topic.

"Media, meetings, that's it."

"I'm not doing media." Lewis said, scratching the back of his neck

"You sure? You can talk about that fun date you have later tonight." You smirk.

"It- it was a joke." George said.

"Right, well I'm off." You say, standing up. You walk out of the garage and down to Ferari hospitality where you see Alex there.

"Hi Y/n!" She says happily, hugging you.

"Hi Alex, how are you?" You ask.

"I'm good." She smiles.

"And I see little Leo is having fun." You say, crouching down to pet him.

"God he loves it here. I don't know what it is but he likes it here more than our own home." She says.

"I get that. This is like my scape-way." You laugh.

"So... I have a question." She says, walking with you up the stairs.

"Okay."

"You and Lewis?"

"Lewis and I just have a work relationship. I'm his P.A."

"I see the way he looks at you." She says slyly.

"Like I'm manager?"

"No. A look of 'I want to ask this girl out but I'm scared' type of look." She says.

"I don't think so."

"Well I think so." She says. You two reach the second floor of Ferrari hospitality and see almost all of the drivers there, along with Lewis.

"There she is! The queen herself!" Max yells, look at you.

"She already knows how great she is, she doesn't need a man to say it for her." Alex says sarcastically.

"Hey so we are all going out to dinner tonight, nice steakhouse by the" Charles says.

"You dumbass, Lewis can't have steak." George interrupts.

"Oh... right, scratch that. A nice Italian restaurant by the lake. Super good food there." Charles says.

"And it's just us and you and Alex." Lando says, pointing to him, Max, Lewis, Charles, George and Oscar.

"I'm down." Alex says happily.

"Sure, I'll go." You smile.

"Perfect." Max says, smirking.

"We should go dress shopping." Alex says, tugging on your arm.

"No way in hell I'm wearing a dress." You say.

"Uhm actually... they sort of have a dress code there, so..." George says.

"Then I'll have to skip this one." You say.

"Then I might just have to kidnap you for this one." Alex says, her face cracking into a smile.

"Fine... but no fucking heels. I'm wearing-"

"Nike's." The whole group answer's for you.

"What? They're comfortable." You shrug.

"We need to go, now!" Alex says.

"Okay, okay." You say, walking away with her. You walk down the hospitality stairs, reaching the bottom and making your way outside to the parking lot.

"Just follow me to the dress shop." Alex says, getting in her car.

"I will." You smile. You get in yours, and slowly follow her out of the parking lot. You follow her the whole way to the dress shop, parking next to her and getting out, meeting her at the door.

"I am making sure you look extra cute tonight." She smiles, walking into the shop. You can't help but laugh.

"Hello ladies, what can I help you with today?" The older women says behind the counter.

"We are here for my friend, she needs a dress for dinner tonight." Alex says politely.

"Oh how fun! What's the occasion?" The women asks.

"It's like a team dinner, but at this super fancy Italian restaurant." You say.

"That's nice, why don't you follow me." She says. You and Alex both follow her around the shop until you reach the back.

"These are all of our informal dresses, just pick out what you like here." She says.

"Thank you." You say. You turn around to see Alex already looking through the rack.

"Okay, first we need rules. No bright neon colors. No red, yellow, or orange because it will make my skin look bad. And no glittery stuff." You say.

"Yes mom." She jokes. You both spend a couple of minutes look through the rack of dresses.

"What about this?" She asks, holding up a strapless black dress.

"I'll try it on." You say, taking it from her. You walk back into the fitting room, closing the curtain and slipping the dress on.

It was long and tight-fitted, a slit going high up the leg and no straps.

"That looks so good!" Alex says.

"Is this is?" You ask, looking down at the dress.

"Definitely." She claps. You turn around and go back into the room, taking the dress off and going into your normal clothes again.

You walk back out with the dress in your hand and you and Alex walk back up front.

"This is one is beautiful, one of a kind to. No duplicates." The women says, smiling.

"Your special." Alex says, smirking,

The women at the register rings you up and you walk out of the store.

"Let's go to my hotel room, we can get your makeup and hair done." Alex says.

"Okay, I'll meet you there." You say. You both drive over to the hotel the drivers were staying at and make your way up to her room.

"Okay what do we do with your hair?" She asks, looking at it.

"I don't know, maybe just straighten it?"

"Straighten it? No. This needs to have... something. Your hair is to long and beautiful to be straightened." She says.

"Okay, what should I do?"

"Hmm... let's do like four braids up at the top here, leading into a high ponytail with some curls at the end." She says. You nod and she gets to work, braiding and curling your hair.

When she is done with your hair, she starts doing some light makeup on you.

"Viola." She says.

"This looks amazing." You say.

"Thank you." She says, walking in he bathroom to get ready. She puts on her dress, does her hair and makeup and the two of you leave together.

"Are you sure you shouldn't wait for Charles?" You ask as Alex starts driving down the street.

"No, I think they are already on their way." She said. It was a pretty short drive, once you got there, Alex parked and you both walked up to the door.

"Oh, I forgot something in the car. You go ahead." She said.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, I'll be right there." She smiled. You shrug and walk into the building.

"Hi, are you Y/n Y/l/n?" The host asks.

"Yeah." You say polietly.

"Follow me." She smiles. You follow her through the restaurant, arriving at a big table with only Lewis at it.

"Hi." He beams.

"Hi." You smile, sitting down next to him.

"So... I have some great news." He says, you look at him for an answer. "But first you look great."

"Thank you, so do you." You say.

"Our friends set us up and now it's only going to be us two." He says.

"I had the feeling." You giggle. "Alex never leaves behind anything in her car. And when we do stuff like this she always waits for Charles to go with her." You say.

"Right? George said he had some unexpected plans and Lando said he had to go tend to his fish. He fucking hates fish." Lewis laughs.

"Oh my God."

"Their terrible." He says, pausing. "We don't really have to continue this if you don't want to." He says.

"I'll stay, maybe it'll give you a good story for tomorrow." You smirk.

You guys talked for around an hour, eating dinner and having a couple of drinks.

"How do you feel about this?" Lewis suddenly asks.

"Abou... us?"

"Yeah, us."

"I don't know, I'm we work together." You say.

"Your also younger than me." He says.

"Yeah." You say quietly.

"I don't mind giving us a chance if you don't." He says.

"I wouldn't mind either." You smile. He smiles back, not just a quick one, a long lasting lovable one.

You both finish your last couple of drinks before paying and walking out of the restaurant.

You walk out front to his car which was parked in valet.

"Do you have a ride?" He asks.

"I'm going to get an Uber, don't worry about it." You say.

"No it's okay, I don't mind." He says. Just then you hear cheering and clapping behind you. You turn around to see Alex and all of the guys standing their looking at you.

"Your fucking awful." You shout.

"But you liked it, I see." Alex says, you just smirk at her. You and Lewis walk over to them.

"You guys are so funny." Lewis says.

"At least your not chasing after her like a lost puppy." Max says.

"Chasing after me?" You remark.

"Oh yeah, full on. He would always talk about you a lot." Lando smirked.

"Will you shut up." Lewis muttered.

"So, were you surprised?" Alex asked.

"No. You almost never forget anything, and any time you go out to a fancy place, Charles is over by your side." You say.

"And you." Lewis said, pointing to Lando. "You had to go tend o your fish? You fucking hate fish." He exlcaimed.

"Lando!" The group yelled angrily.

"What!" He yelled back. You and Lewis shake your heads simultaneously and walk back to his car. He opens the door for you and you get in, he gets in the drivers side and drives back to the hotel.

"Can't believe him." Lewis chuckles.

"I think that's the stupid thing he's ever said." You say. Lewis eventually pulled into the hotel parking lot.

You get out of the car and walk into the hotel, going up to the Ferrari floor. You and Lewis walk down to your room and stop in front of the door.

"Tonight was great." You say.

"I had fun." Lewis smiles.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You say, hugging him.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He says. You hug for a good minute before turning around and walking into your room, and he walked down the hall to his. You didn't have many words for the night. But one thing you were sure of is that you couldn't wait to see him tomorrow.

Hey loves! Loved this request and I hope I met your expectations! You like the younger!reader x Lewis, go check out my new story called Love all the way Through! Comment to be added o the tag list for Lewis Hamilton fics! Requests are open!

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amphibiahawks321 · 2 days ago

Note

Kafka please

[A quiet corner of the Astral express, after hours — Y/N walking while reading focusly on the datapad, eating a macaron in the other hand]

[The noise of the ship is the only sound... Until a hologram transformed can be heard along with a chuckle]

Kafka : You know, dear... It's not good being that focused, someone might take advantage of your distraction

[Y/N looking up from his datapad, crossing his arms with the datapad still in hand and sighs with a smile]

M!Reader : And I suppose you are someone?

[Kafka walking to Y/N with a smirk]

Kafka : Mmm... Guilty, But in my defense, you always make it very tempting~

M!Reader : Chuckles... Flirting again? You’re going to make the crew hear our chat and start making rumours... especially with March on board...

[Kafka placing her hologram hand on his cheek and starts blushing Y/N]

Kafka : Why not let them talk? After all, rumours just bring more fun to the game

M!Reader blushing : ...Ahem, You do know I can't feel it right?

Kafka : Oh I know, just trying to get you riled up and... Chuckles, I can see it's working~

[Y/N deeply sighs, with a frown, closed eyes but can't stop blushing]

Kafka : You're adorable~

[Kafka pulls back her hand, walking past Y/N and having her arms behind her back]

[Y/N stopped crossing his arms and turns his head around seeing Kafka also turning her head around]

Kafka : if we were in the same area again, come find me okay darling? If you're done playing the good boy, I have ways to help you unwind~

[Her hologram disappears but giving Y/N a quick wink, leaving Y/N just completely blushing red and body shaking]

M!Reader blushing : ...H-How did that sound like both a treat and a threat....

[Y/N muttering under his breath as he continue walks away]

#male reader #hsr x reader #reader x hsr #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #reader x honkai star rail #kafka x reader #reader x kafka

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zepskies · 1 day ago

Text

Ahhhh thank you, friend!! 🥹💕

not gonna lie, at first after reading the description, then seeing the nine months time pass, and reading this I thought a baby ??? ...until I remembered about his undercover prison mission lmfao 🤦🏽‍♀️🤣 all I have to say about blake is boo this man!, lmao. also she needs new friends, those girls are not a good support system at all :/

Hahaaaa nope, not quite there yet with a baby, but Blake is def a boooo.👎🏽 And honestly yeah, reader could definitely use a better support system. Sarah is the only somewhat real one in that group 💙

ay pobresitaaaaa 🥺 i feel so bad :( but part of me is a sucker for the person a looking after a vulnerable person b so I liked where this was headed...😅

Indeeeed 😭😭 But yeah exactly, same loll! 🤭

I swoon 💖 love me a protective man.

Ugh yes! I'm such a sucker for these moments loll

yeahh she deserves better friends for sure. friends she can be safely vulnerable with ...no matter how much i love the comfort opening this left for mark 🥲

Honestly a great and valid point. It takes a lot for this reader to crack, but she's at the end of her rope. At least Mark's able to catch her this time ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

oh this hit hard :( 🤍 such a heavy feeling

Literally the worst feeling, poor thing. That directly parallels with the song 💙

this sequence was so bittersweet to me. ❤️‍🩹 it felt like a reminder of their long and meaningful past, and just how much they really mean to each other despite all the angst surrounding them <3

Oh very much so! It was all of that, signaling the closeness and history between these two ❤️‍🩹

I don't trust Valwell at all...i'm worried for her 🥲

Me either! I'm setting this up for some fun conflict/angst in the future lol

...yeah she gotta get rocked, oh my. I have zero sympathy for her. like your sister looked out for you better than your own parents, you're mad at her for how your parents treated you (not her fault), so after trying and failing to seduce her drunk fiance...you send her deceiving pictures just to be evil.. you're a weirdo girly. me personally i would have put nair in her shampoo or something. no way she gets away with that scott free 🤠 I hope she does hate herself for this — what an awful thing to do to someone you're supposed to love.

Oh Rachel's the worst lol. Don't worry, her and reader will have their confrontation in the near future, but until then, she gets to stew in being a selfish, entitled, resentful, jealous, heinous bitch 🥲

clinging on to the sliver of hope this is giving me omg

Hehe we'll see what Derek Haas does with a potential save for Mark in the future, but depending on what happens, we may need to fanfic that shit and come up with one ourselves 😆😆

I love this for them 💕 he definitely needs some soft comfort, now more than ever 🥺 i love your mind. this is amazing !!🫶🏽

Right?? Mark thus far has been dealing with this completely alone. At least in this story, he has her to help support him and give him some of that comfort that he's probably craving, but not willing to admit it. ❤️‍🩹

Aww thank you so much, friend!! I literally had so much fun writing this one that I can't wait to continue it soon! 💕

CATASTROPHIC BLUES

Pairing: Mark Meachum x F. Reader

Summary: Nine months isn’t as long as it sounds. When you run into your ex-fiancé at a bar, he finds out what you've become. You find out the truth.

AN: Okay, so this was only supposed to be a 1K drabble sequel to DOWNGRADE for my lovely friend, @waynes-multiverse, but of course it snowballed on me lol. (And there’s a little more to come!) This is set during early season 1, let’s say between 1x02 and 1x03.

Song Inspo: “Hits Different” by Taylor Swift (YT)

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, drunkenness, skeevy men, Mark doing his best with an angry, hungover reader (bit of grumpy x sunshine), talk of cheating, what really happened, and other truths revealed…

Nine months. It should’ve meant something.

You should be able to go out with your friends to the club. You should be able to feel confident in one of your favorite dresses and the tallest pair of heels you could almost walk in.

You should be able to let loose on the dance floor, letting the closest attractive guy grind on your ass.

He later offered to get you a drink, his hot breath in your ear. An uncomfortable chill ran down your spine. But you know what? Fuck it.

You went back with him to the bar, taking the chance to rest your achy feet. He tried to make small talk with you, despite you being stiff and awkward now that you couldn’t distract yourself with the vibes of the music running through your body. Now the thump thump thump of the bass was too much, too distracting for a normal conversation.

Blake was an oxymoron—he dressed like a wealthy hipster and talked like a frat bro. He had the skinny jeans and a silky patterned shirt, a thin gold chain around his neck, an obnoxious gold pinky ring, and a trendy cropped haircut. You regretted letting him buy you a drink, but then again, you never wasted good vodka.

You also started to get suspicious when one of your friends “casually” came up on his other side.

“Ask her about her job,” Sarah whispered. You just barely caught it.

“Oh, yeah. So, uh, what do you do?” Blake asked you. You were pretty sure he was more interested in your cleavage than your job.

“I’m an assistant to the Head District Attorney of California,” you said blandly.

The guy blinked. “…Oh. Cool.”

“And what do you do, Blake?”

“Well, my dad owns an advertisement company, so I do some stuff for him every now and then. But mostly I’m a competitive gamer. Like, uh, League of Legends, Counter Strike, Mortal Kombat. What about you? You a gamer?”

Blinking slow, then sighing, you leaned over and locked eyes with Sarah, one of your best friends and a well-known esthetician in L.A.

“Where’d you find the trust fund baby?” you asked. “He one of your clients? Let me guess. He likes his asshole bleached the same shade as his hair.”

Sarah bit her lip in embarrassment. Blake coughed and spluttered into his scotch. You didn’t stick around for the predictable denial and slid off the bar stool. You gave him $15 for your drink, downed the rest of it in one long gulp, and savored the rush of it tingling through your head on your way out of the club.

“Wait!” Sarah called after you. Your other two friends just rolled their eyes and stayed behind to keep drinking and dancing. They were used to your antics by now, just like you were used to theirs. They'd been trying to set you up on dates for a couple of months now. This one was the sneakiest by far.

Sarah, for her part, never let you walk out alone.

“Next time you try to set me up with someone, can you please just tell me,” you said tiredly, “instead of pretending you want to hang out with me?”

Sarah deflated. “Look, we’re just trying to help.”

“I know,” you said, holding yourself against the chill in the air. “I know, okay? I know you guys want me to move on, because I’m a fucking bummer. I know I’m…I’m not handling all this as well as I should be. And I know they still talk to Rachel.”

Tears stung in your eyes, but you sucked in a subtle breath. Sarah’s blue eyes were sad and glassy with guilt, even if it was just by association.

“Go back inside,” you said eventually. “I’ll just take an Uber home.”

But you didn’t.

Instead, you ended up at a bar down the street. You barely ever went clubbing anymore, but you hadn’t stepped foot into a real bar in nine months.

“Come on, sweetheart. You really want to do this here?”

“You’re one to fucking talk! But you know what? Far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing left to say. I just…I don’t know how you could do this to me.”

“Please,” he said. The green of his eyes were desperate. It was the first time you ever heard him beg. “Just let me explain.”

You wouldn’t let him touch you, let alone try to hold you. The thought alone made you sick.

“I saw you, Mark. I saw the goddamn pictures. And my sister told me all about how your last night of ‘freedom’ went. But you know what? You’re fucking free.”

You put the ring in the palm of his hand. He stared down at it, jaw clenched. Meanwhile, hot tears streamed down your face.

You walked away first—out of the seaside bar in beautiful Venice, California, with every piece of your heart bleeding out into the street.

Another vodka cranberry at the end of the bar turned into shots you couldn’t name or count. You rebuffed men who tried to talk to you. You ignored the voice in your head that sounded a lot like your dad.

Sweet girl, what the hell’re you doin’?

You stopped trying to answer that question a long time ago. Just like your friends had stopped trying to get you out of the house after work. No more wine tastings or Sunday brunches. No more weekends at the beach. The coarse grains of sun-bleached sand would only remind you of Santa Cruz—a sweltering summer, a perfect day, now fractured and wrong in your mind’s eye.

A fucking lie.

Another empty glass hitting the bar counter drowned out the salty crash of ocean waves, but you finally had to stop when your stomach churned with alcoholic slosh. Your brain reeled when you tried to blink. Your eyes felt dry, irritated, and glassy at the same time.

You got up from your seat and used the wall like an anchor on your way to the bathroom. You checked yourself in the mirror there. Your black dress, your hair, and your makeup were still intact, so you supposed you still looked good, if absent in the eyes. Again, you blinked too hard. Fuck.

On your way back out, new noise was filling the bar. A whole group of four or five people came in and grabbed seats at the bar, laughing, ordering drinks, giving each other shit. They sounded like cops. You knew, because you’d grown up around them your entire life.

“All right, Oliveras. What’re you drinking?”

You stopped short at the voice, deep and rich like aged whiskey. In fact, you needed the back of an empty chair to hold you steady.

“What, you're buying?” she shot back.

Amber. You recognized her profile and the litheness of her frame. You two were old friends, since you roomed together back in college. You hadn’t heard from her in months though. She had called to give her condolences when your almost-marriage fell apart.

And now, your ex-fiancé had an arm draped casually behind her chair. His smile was effortless, charming, the crows’ feet around his eyes crinkled with amusement.

“Well, within reason,” he replied, inclining his head. “I think I’m in the mood for some good fuckin’ whiskey—”

You stumbled in your stupid heels. You nearly took a whole table with you, but two chairs broke your fall. Almost all the cops in the group looked your way, their heads swiveling with a trained response to sudden sounds. Your name fell from Amber’s lips, a small, shocked breath.

Mark’s mouth fell open, his eyes widening when you looked up at him on reflex. You were forced to take him in, his green eyes, the new haircut, the well-trimmed beard, the jeans and dark blue jacket. He had no fucking business looking that good.

But you were like two shocked deers not expecting to meet in a forest—neither one willing to move or speak, or even blink…

Until you stumbled again. Your weight on the unstable chair began to give way.

“Shit.”

He and Amber both jolted to help you. Mark’s hand reached for you first, but you firmly ignored it and somehow straightened onto your shaky feet. You smoothed down the dress and fixed the little straps the best you could, even though one was hanging down your shoulder.

Your arm got tangled in the thin chain of your purse, but you slung that over your other shoulder with all the grace of a toddler. Then you affected a “polite” smile that just came off looking like a grimace.

“Uh, hey. Of all the gin joints in the world and stuff, right?” You made sure to enunciate, hoping your hand wave was casual and not insane. “I’ve gotta go.”

You pointed toward the door before you made it your mission to actually get there. Your heart pounded loud in your ears. The rush of cool and quieter air was a balm to your frayed mind, but it wasn’t enough.

The way he looked at her…

The turning of your stomach became a violent roil. You closed your eyes against the movie reel torturing you in your mind. You imagined how their night would go, drinking, laughing, touching, stumbling back into his house at 2:00 a.m. Maybe he’d end up actually loving her, someone more like him. More than he claimed to have loved you.

The liquid contents of your stomach rebelled, and you threw up right on the edge of the street. You clung to a utility pole as you coughed and cried involuntary tears. You heaved and gasped for breath when you couldn’t stop.

“Hey, you okay, sweetheart?”

Alarm trilled in the back of your mind. You had enough awareness to look behind you. Finally, you noticed the guy. He’d approached you in the bar earlier, but you’d turned down his advances. You couldn’t remember what you said to him. He clearly remembered you, though.

You waved him off, not even able to speak as you tried to stay upright against the utility pole.

He didn’t take the hint. He drew closer, wrapping the pretense of a helping hand around your arm. He fingered the edge of your leather jacket.

“You need a ride? I’ll get you an Uber or something,” he said, with the facsimile of concern. “Where do you live?”

“Hey,” a voice cut in, deep and with authority.

You tilted your head, and Mark’s stern face came into view along with the rest of him. Him and those damn bowed legs.

“Take a walk, pal. I’ve got her,” Mark said. He flashed his LAPD badge for good measure.

That made it even easier to knock away the foreign hands off your body and angle himself in between. His arm came around your shoulders, supportive and safe.

Half of you was grateful, the other half resentful, but all you could do was glare at him. He shot you a quirking smile.

The other man backed off, trying to hide his annoyance. He continued down the street with his hands in his pockets. Mark itched to do more than just scare him off. A familiar protective anger had burned in his blood, raising his hackles, but he had to focus on you.

He led you back to the front of the bar. He went slow enough for you in those red stilettos (ridiculous, he thought, no matter how sexy they were).

“Late night, huh?” he said.

“What d'you think you’re doing?” you said. Your tone would be more snippy, if you had any energy left. Your inner world was reeling, unfocused and barely conscious. You had no choice but to lean on him as you gripped his jacket, the dark blue denim rough between your fingers.

“Well, I’m thinking I could call one of your friends, have ‘em take you home. You came out alone?” he asked. He was trying to be civil, retaining his sense of humor, but there was no masking the concern in his eyes. Not completely.

“No,” you admitted, “but ‘m alone now. Obviously.” You snorted.

Mark’s lips twitched upward. He heaved a small sigh. “All right. Well, who do you want me to call? Sarah? Yesenia? Lauren?”

After a moment, you shook your head, even though that just made it swim. Fuck.

“I can’t…don’t want them to see me like this,” you said. The confession provoked a sniffle, a tremble of your lips. This time, you couldn’t stop the sting of tears from flooding over. You covered your face, as if that could stop your embarrassment, your overwhelming emotions from clogging in your throat in a painful lump.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Mark said. His tone pitched deep and gentle. It was an easy reflex for him to give into as he soothed a hand over your hair to try and calm you down.

You didn’t know it, but there was a gaping ache in his chest that had never really faded away. Seeing you again, let alone like this, made it sharp and splintering.

He led you to his car, and he took you home.

For a moment, you saw it so clearly.

Tracing his brows, the line of his nose, and the cut of his chin while he slept. What his hair felt like between your fingers, loose and soft, or gripped tight with need.

The sound of his voice reaching deep into your bones. The way his arms allowed you to reclaim safety whenever he came back to you…

Worrying for your dad on his twenty-five-year beat in Homicide had transitioned into worrying for Mark. He was always quick to reassure you though, to downplay with his ridiculous sense of humor and good sex. The best, actually.

But it was the in between moments you missed the most.

The distant sound of a lock turning in the door had you waking, slowly, a silent struggle in your bed. Your eyes cracked open.

Were you okay now? Was that him? Was he home? Had the past year just been a cruel invention of your mind to torture you?

…No. Your throat momentarily closed up as you realized. This really was just your shitty reality.

You groaned as you picked your head off the pillow, pushing your body up until you were sitting on the edge of your bed. Your bare legs hung off the side. You still wore your wrinkled black dress from last night, but your heels were strewn forgotten on the floor. You didn’t remember taking them off. You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, let alone to your bed.

However, it all started coming back to you when the door shut again. Fresh coffee wafted in from the living room, along with something sweeter.

Your bedroom door creaked open, and there he was. Mark fucking Meachum.

He held a tray with two hot coffees and a greasy brown bag from your favorite bakery. Your gaze crept up to meet his, though yours was decidedly grumpy.

“Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a smile. “It’s already almost noon, but I figured we can’t start the day without coffee.”

“Did you stay here all night?” you croaked in disbelief.

“Yeah, just, uh, took the couch out there,” he said, pointing in the direction of the living room. “Could use a couple of extra throw pillows though. Think I got another notch in my spine…”

At your persisting glare, his expression sobered.

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all,” he said.

“Well, mission accomplished,” you snarked. “You can go now.”

Mark watched you try and fail to stand. You sunk back down to a seat on the edge of the bed, closing your eyes for a second while you attempted to stop your head from swimming.

He sighed and set down the coffee and pastries on your desk nearby.

“Have you been making this a habit?” he asked.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but last night was the first bar I’ve been to in exactly nine months and...fifteen days,” you replied. You swept your fingers over your cheeks, grimacing when you found remains of your mascara. You probably looked like a gremlin. This wasn’t exactly the way you wanted to look when you next saw your ex.

Except you’d never planned to see this man again.

“All right,” Mark said. He grabbed your purse off your desk, where he’d set it last night. He popped it open, your private goddamn property.

“Excuse me,” you protested angrily.

He retrieved a whole pack of cigarettes. “How about these?”

He tossed you the pack, and you barely caught it. Your irritation grew and grew, along with the sting of shame. The worst part was, he knew he didn’t have to say anything.

The unfiltered nicotine in your hand was the reason your father died. He’d been the Captain of Mark’s precinct for ten years—the exact number of years since your dad had quit smoking. It hadn’t mattered much in the end.

Still, you resented that raised brow of judgment on Mark’s face.

You leaned over and grabbed a lighter from your nightstand. You fished out a cigarette from the pack, and you took your time lighting it up. You were being an asshole, you realized, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You made a show of holding the cancer stick between two fingers. You looked up at Mark, right in his eyes, and tried to channel Audrey Hepburn when you brought it to your lips for a long drag.

And you immediately coughed it up. Fuck.

Smoke polluted the air above your head while Mark nodded in vindication.

“Yeah. How’d that feel, Smokey?” he asked (all too high-and-mighty, in your opinion). He crossed the distance and took the cigarette from your hand while you kept coughing. He went into the bathroom to get rid of it.

Meanwhile, you held a hand to your chest and groaned. Damn him, he was right. Your stomach roiled at just the taste of that shit in your mouth, let alone first thing in the morning.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up?” he suggested, sweeping a hand toward your adjoining bathroom when he came back out. “A little coffee and sustenance will be waiting when you’re done.”

“Seriously, you can go. You don’t need to wait up for me,” you rasped, but the man still helped you to your feet with a supportive hand on your arm and your lower back.

“Yeah, and what if you lose your balance and crack your head on the bathroom tile? Nope, not on my watch.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered.

“He ain’t gonna help if you take his name in vain like that,” Mark couldn’t help but tease, fully expecting your glare. That was something your mom used to say.

You groaned, annoyed and still nauseous.

“Would you just shut up?”

“Nope, pretty sure I’m physically incapable.”

You snorted. “Clearly.”

He made sure you were steady on your feet before he left you in the bathroom. You avoided his gaze when he closed the door. His heart gave a painful pulse.

What the fuck am I doing? he thought.

Brushing your teeth and taking a hot shower had its innumerable benefits—making you feel alive and close to normal again, for example. But the one thing it didn’t do was get Mark out of your apartment.

You sat together on your couch while the TV played at a low volume. You saw the remnants of Mark’s night in your favorite throw blanket tossed over one of the armrests. The pillow he'd used for his head was caved in and smelling like his cologne, a rich, woody scent of sandalwood, spice, and musk.

You tried to ignore it while you finished eating a blueberry muffin. He polished off his third donut and washed it down with some more coffee.

“So,” you said. “Amber Oliveras.”

Mark blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Last night. You two were out together, seemed to be having a good time. Sorry I crashed your date,” you said, trying not to seem as bitter you sounded in your head.

Mark’s brows furrowed. “We’re, uh, not together. Not like that. We’re just working a case.”

“A case?” you said dubiously. “She’s DEA. You’re Homicide. What kind of case would you be working on together?”

He hesitated, brushing some pastry crumbs from his mouth. “Sorry, I can’t get into the specifics. You know the drill.”

Yes, you knew his cases were supposed to be confidential, but that hadn’t stopped him from telling you details before, especially because you were D.A. Valwell’s Executive Assistant. You had a higher clearance than the average civilian anyway.

But you let it go. It truly wasn’t your business, after all.

It was Mark’s turn to look your way. Morbid curiosity was eating him alive. Or maybe that was just the pull of being with you again, seeing your face, hearing your voice…even if you hated him.

He did think you were torturing him a bit too. You smelled nice, like floral soap and minty freshness. You were wearing an oversized shirt from your college days that was already threadbare from how many times you ran it through the wash. It slipped off one shoulder and barely went halfway down your thighs, brushing the edge of some little shorts. He had to stop his eyes from following the path of your bare legs.

“So, uh, how’ve you been?” he asked.

You paused. You even set down your muffin and chuckled, giving him a long look.

“How does it look like I’ve been?”

A grim silence fell between you two, thick and tense.

“All right," he said. "How long’ve you been smoking?”

You shook your head, lips pursing at his audacity. “You really don’t have any right to judge me. You know that, right?”

Mark rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin, an anxious, frustrated tick you knew well. “Look, what happened back then—”

You rose a hand to stop him. “Please, for the love of God. We don’t have to go through this shit again.”

You got up from the couch, intending to throw away the coffee cups and garbage if it meant gaining some space from this man.

But he followed you, stopped you with an imploring grip on your arm.

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” he said. He met your gaze, firm, earnest. “It didn’t go down the way she said.”

Your instinct was to jerk your arm out of his grasp, but he just held you in place, gently, but insistent.

“Are you gonna let me explain this time? If you do, then just let me get it out. And afterward I’ll screw. I’ll walk the fuck outta here, and I promise you, you’ll never have to see me again.”

You stared up at him, close to seething, but there was something in his eyes that stilled you, gripped you more than his hands. A sliver of doubt began to creep in.

Your sister apparently hated you enough to fuck your fiancé. Had she been vindictive enough to lie about it?

You had realized, all too late, that you couldn’t put anything past her. Mark could be stubborn, but he wouldn’t dig his heels in on this without a reason.

So you relented, with a small nod.

Breathing a subtle exhale of relief, Mark guided you back down to the couch. You turned off the TV and sat facing him with your arms crossed. You gave him an expectant look.

Mark steeled himself. Where to fucking start?

A beat to think, and then he knew.

He had to give you everything.

Nine Months Ago...

One late night. One fifth of whiskey at the hotel bar turned into numbers Mark stopped counting—until the Captain reminded him. Your father reminded him beyond the grave, with words Mark never forgot.

You’ve got someone waiting for you. Don’t take that for granted.

He needed to find you.

Somehow, he made it to the elevator by himself. Third floor. Room 304, 305, 306. Fuck. Was it 309?

The door opened, and his addled fucking brain thought it was you at first. She almost had your eyes, if just half the sincerity of your smile.

Rachel welcomed him in and shut the door. He stumbled at the threshold, and she stopped him from falling completely onto the floral-patterned carpet.

“Oh my God, Mark. You okay?”

No. And he knew he wasn’t ever gonna be okay.

But her hands were warm, carving sensuous paths under his leather jacket without him realizing.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” she said, guiding him further into her hotel room. With slurring words, Mark asked her to go find you. He needed to talk to you.

“Shit, think I left my phone downstairs too. Needa get it,” he muttered.

“You’re a mess. I think you need to lay down first,” she said, huffing as she supported his weight over to her bed. She helped him lay down. A subtle smile tugged at her lips as she began to open up his jacket. He resisted at first, giving her a look of confusion.

“You should get comfortable. I doubt we’re gonna be able to move you from here.” She giggled.

He guessed he could see the sense in that. He let her help him shrug the black leather jacket off. You helped him pick it out a couple of weeks ago while you were planning for this trip.

Rachel tossed his jacket to the foot of the bed, and she sat close to him on the edge of it. Her bare thigh brushed against his arm as the skirt of her dress rode up. It looked like she’d been about to take a shower after a night out with you and your friends. He instinctively moved his arm, crossing it with the other over his chest.

“You know, I never got a chance to thank you,” she said.

Mark’s brows furrowed. It was taking all of his concentration just to keep her face in focus.

“For what?”

“You were really there for me when Dad passed. You were like our rock, coming by with food, checking in on me when you visited. It really meant a lot to me,” she said. Her words said one thing, but her eyes were beginning to lead him somewhere.

“Your dad was a good man,” he said tiredly. “You guys went through a lot. You, your mom, your sister. It uh, hit her pretty hard.”

Rachel’s lips pressed together. “Yeah… She was his favorite, you know.”

Mark blinked. “What, he said that?”

“He didn’t have to,” she said, glancing away. She began to drum her fingers against his arm. He noticed it, but he was also trying to concentrate on what she was saying. “He always talked to her more, trusted her more, even when he was harping on her. She got that government job, probably thanks to him. But he was proud of her.”

“’M sure he was proud of you too,” Mark said.

“No, I don’t think so. I just don’t know why,” she said, sniffling as tears welled up in her eyes.

Mark frowned in sympathy. “Aw, hey.”

He didn’t know how to make her feel better, but he didn’t like to see her cry either. He sat up the best he could in the bed. She met him halfway, burying her face in his chest and sliding her arms around his middle for a hug. He gave her that comfort, patting her on the back.

Only, she didn’t stop there. She shimmied a bit higher and buried her face in his neck, where she pressed a little kiss. An alarm bell rang in Mark’s mind, but his body was too slow to respond. She turned her head and laid another kiss on his cheek, and then his lips.

He finally jerked back, holding her at arm’s length.

“Hey. What the hell’re you doing?” he demanded. His tone was sharp without a filter.

Rachel’s tearful eyes met his as she bit her lip. Her hand tentatively drew down his chest, warm over his shirt.

“I just…I finally had to tell you how much you mean to me,” she said. “And I think she takes you for granted.”

His brows furrowing, Mark grabbed her wrist.

“Rach, I love you. I really do, but you’re like a lil' sister to me. I love your sister. I wanna marry her.”

The thought alone struck a sharp jolt of pain through his skull, and through his chest. He did want a life with you. But is that fucking fair?

Could he really shackle you to a dying man?

Sure, he didn’t know how long he had, but that could be a cruel waiting game, one you'd just gone through with your father for three months. Mark didn’t want to put you through that all over again.

“Look, just...go tell her 'm here. Please,” he said. The fight was draining out of him. His energy was waning, his eyes blinking slow.

Rachel nodded, wiping at her tears. She left him in a huff, but she went to lock herself up in the bathroom first. The sink faucet turned on.

Mark sighed. Fine, let her clean up and pull herself together, but she’d better go get you. He doubted he could make it, even if he crawled. But if he had to, he would…

Slowly, the ticking seconds turned longer. His eyes grew heavier, until he was unable to pry them open again. He fell asleep.

He woke to a streaming sun in his eyes, and a pounding ache between them.

Shit. He groaned, covering his eyes. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t good for an already fucked head after all.

“Hmm, good morning, sleepyhead.”

Mark frowned. He looked over and found Rachel leaning on his arm. She was lying naked under the thinnest sheet. He knew, not only because of her bare shoulders, but her nipples poking through the fabric.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunted, immediately turning over to climb out of the bed. He was very fucking relieved to see he still had his jeans and underwear on, but his shirt was missing. He found it strewn on the floor.

“You actually did that yourself,” Rachel remarked. “Think you got a bit hot last night.”

There was a playful note in her voice. Mark grit his teeth. He was fucking pissed.

“You’re over the fucking line, you hear me?” he snapped.

“What, are you really gonna tell her?” she taunted. “It’s not like we did anything. I just prefer to sleep naked.”

He snorted. Sure. And what happened to the part where she was supposed to go find you and tell you where he was? No, the girl saw an opportunity, and she took it.

Mark hesitated though, because she raised a good point. Goddamn it, what was he going to tell you?

His jaw clenched, and he angrily finished getting dressed. He got up and stormed out of the hotel room, but not before Rachel got of out bed and let the sheet fall away from her slender form. She walked in confidence and feminine sway over to the bathroom, smiling in amusement when he quickly turned away before he saw anything.

The door slammed shut.

Her smile slowly fell. Tears of embarrassment stung in her eyes. Not really because he was mad at her, but because he’d rejected her too.

She knew it was wrong. Yeah, she was pretty sure it was the worst thing she’d ever done. Part of her even hated herself for it. You were her older sister, after all. You, who always looked out for her when you two were kids—better than Mom did. You, who got the most attention from Dad, and the quiet reliance of Mom.

Yeah, Rachel did love you...but she also kind of hated you too.

After she got dressed, she went back to find her phone. She cycled through the pictures she took, every angle that made it seem like your fiancé had spent the night in her arms after the hot and steamy bits.

It was a joke. A cruel prank. But maybe after this, you wouldn’t open your mouth to criticize her ever again. Maybe you’d think twice next time, because in the back of your mind, you’d remember that she could’ve had your man.

Now...

Mark finished telling you the story from his perspective. He gave you as many details as he could remember: what she said and did, and what he said and did.

Understandably, you were getting more upset by the moment. That pendulum swung between shock, and anger, and upset again. It all culminated in hot tears as you crossed your arms, holding a hand over your mouth.

“How do I know that’s true?” you asked, wiping vainly at your cheeks.

The problem was, you wanted to believe him. Of course, you also wanted to believe your sister wasn’t quite as screwed up and hateful as you thought she was, but even this was insane. You'd only ever tried to look out for her. Maybe along the way you had been a little critical, a little too judgmental. But had you really deserved this?

Could you even let yourself hope it was all a lie?

Mark met your gaze head on. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying.”

You sighed in frustration. “Mark, you’re a professional fucking liar. I’m not a human polygraph.”

“But you know me.”

“I thought I did,” you said, rubbing at your eyes with shaking hands. Eventually, you were able to look at him again. “If what you said is true, why the hell didn’t you just tell me that?”

“You wouldn’t let me! You made up your mind before I could get a word in edgewise.”

“I was angry!"

God, what an understatement. You'd been so furious and hurt, you'd seriously debated taking one of your dad's old golf clubs and knocking out every window, headlight, and tail light in Mark's precious car.

"So you're saying you didn’t even fight for me. You just let me think the worst of you all this time? For what?!” You sunk your hands into your hair and pulled hard on the strands. You shook your head. “And you know what, why did you get so drunk in the first place? Your friends told me you went back to the hotel early, by yourself. It had to be for a reason.”

Mark nodded slowly.

That was when he knew, he really did have to give you everything.

“You, uh…remember those headaches I’d been getting?” he said. “Started about a month after your dad passed.”

Your brows wrinkled with a hint of confusion, but you nodded as the memory resurfaced.

“Yeah, you were going through entire bottles of Advil. But what does that—”

“I went to the doctor.” Mark rubbed a clammy palm over his jeans. He could stare down murderers, drug lords, and terrorists with steel in his veins, but coming clean with you was going to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He knew it in his bones, just like he knew why he needed to do it.

“Turns out… I’m sick, baby.”

Your expression changed, almost instantly. Traces of anger and doubt fell away, but so did some of the color in your face.

Mark took the chance to get a little closer on the couch. He laid a hand over yours on your thigh, but your whole body was locked up, sitting very still.

“W-What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean,” he sighed, “I’ve got a mass in my brain the size of Nevada. I don't know how much time I got exactly, but..."

Your eyes widened. Your hands clenched into the fabric of your shirt, until your nails bit into your palms. As you processed those words and began to understand the weight of them, it sunk inky claws into your mind, into every shady corner.

You shook your head in denial, lips trembling. Mark just held your gaze, a silent confirmation that he said nothing but the truth.

"I found out a few days before the trip to Venice. I was trying to figure out how to tell you, but obviously I didn’t handle that part very well," he said.

Anger, stubbornness, suspicion, pretending you didn't care what he had to say—all of that faded. It drained out of your muscles, out of your pores. You began to fall apart.

You turned your hand under his and squeezed, hard. It was a while before you could speak, but Mark was patient. He held your hand and stroked his thumb back and forth across your skin while you tried and failed to hold onto your tears. Then your soul-wracking sobs.

Finally, he couldn’t help himself. He brought you closer, soothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your temple. You rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, a coarse whisper. “God, Mark. Why the fuck would you let me think you cheated on me, with my sister?”

He gave a wry huff. “I guess I thought I was being noble. I thought I’d rather have you hate me, than try to stay with me. Watch me break down, bit by bit, for God knows how fucking long. Now I know I’m just selfish. I don’t want you to see me like that… Hell, I don’t wanna see me like that.”

You pulled back on him. Devastation filled your bleary eyes, but you caressed his cheek with a shaking hand.

“Have you gotten treatment?” you asked.

“Doc says it’s not worth it.”

The divot between your brows deepened. “What about a second opinion?”

He hesitated.

“Have you seen another oncologist?” you pressed.

“No. Guess I didn’t see the point. I saw the scans myself. I don’t know how you’d confuse a big fucking tumor for anything else.”

“Mark.” You shook your head and wordlessly guided him closer. You framed his face with both hands, while his own found purchase on the soft curve of your waist.

It was nice to feel your touch again…but at what cost? All that stubborn fire in your eyes, all that pain, it was everything he’d been trying to avoid.

Still, you were gentle, sliding your fingers up into his hair. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

After all this time, you were still his peaceful spot. If you only knew the amount of death he’d seen in just the past couple of weeks on Blythe’s taskforce, the chaos, the stress of near-misses, being on the sweet razor edge of getting killed, saving his own body the trouble. That thrill took its toll.

Before that, those nine months undercover had been a divorce from his reality, pretending that he hadn’t left you broken along with whatever heart there was left in him.

He never imagined that he’d be here with you again. He never thought you’d forgive him, let alone touch him like you still loved him.

When he opened his eyes, you were still there. Tears clung wet to your lashes. You led him closer, where you tenderly rested your forehead against his.

He let you do it too. You were the only one he’d soften up for like this.

He smiled. “Hmmm. What now, sweetheart?”

You bit your lip, but you slowly pulled back and opened your eyes. You didn’t go far though.

You guided him into an even more familiar path to your lips. It was more bittersweet than he remembered, but worth it all the same.

He was home.

AN: So, you guys forgive me? 😘💙 I know it's not the happiest ending ever, but it felt like a good place to pause for these two. Rachel was more complex than she seemed, and so was Mark's side of the story!

I have at least one more actual drabble in mind for these two, coming soon! 😂 Please let me know what you thought of this one 💜

⋆˙⟡ Get notified when every new story drops! Add yourself to my Tag Lists ⟡ Follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on. 💜

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Mark Meachum Masterlist

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Mark Meachum Tag List (Part 1):

It seems like a lot of people on the Dean tag list like Mark! lol So if you prefer not to be on this list, just let me know. I'll take you off no problem (you won't hurt my feelings lol 💜).

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@chevroletdean @hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@midnightmadwoman @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@rizlowwritessortof @jackles010378 @nancymcl @spnaquakindgdom @bettystonewell

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @jollyhunter @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog

@leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989 @siampie @masked-lost-girl

@spnbabe67 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @globetrotter28

@cookiechipdough @winchesterwild78 @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @iprobablyshipit91 @bleuatlas

@mrsjenniferwinchester @fromcaintodean @kiddieclaws

#lovely review! 💗#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #zep replies

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orellazalonia · 2 days ago

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Hey! Could I ask for a Yelena x reader where they're going on just a cute fluff kind of a date at a carnival or at a cat cafe? Thank you so much I love your writing! Keep doing what you're doing

Have a good day!

Hello there! Thank you for the kind words and the request. I’m not going to lie, it was a joy to write something with Yelena. It makes me want to write for more characters I like. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and Happy reading!!!

Chaos at the Carnival

Summary: Yelena takes you on a chaotic but sweet date to a local carnival, showing off her competitive streak at the games while you struggle and laugh along. Between cotton candy, teasing, and a quiet moment atop the Ferris wheel, she shows you the softer, vulnerable side she saves only for you. (Yelena Belova x reader)

Word Count: 1.8k+

Main Masterlist

Yelena wasn’t someone you ever expected to fall for. She was sharp in every way, her wit, her eyes, her aim. Dangerous in combat and unapologetically blunt, but somehow, beneath all of that, she had a softness for you that felt… rare. Sacred, even.

And you’d grown addicted to that softness.

It showed in the way she brought you coffee in the mornings without asking how you took it because she already knew. In the way she always made sure you had your favorite snacks. The way she said your name slowly, like it mattered.

You weren’t a spy. Not a part of the Thunderbolts either. You worked a normal job, with a normal routine, and normal expectations. Yelena joked that it was “adorable how boring” you were, but her voice always lost its edge when she said it. Like it was a kind of peace she didn’t realize she needed.

“Let’s go on a date,” She said that morning, casually flopping onto the couch beside you.

You looked over from your book, raising a brow. “A date?”

“Yes. One where we go somewhere that doesn’t involve explosions or being hunted. Something cute. You like cute.”

You smirked. “You don’t.”

“I do when you’re involved.”

You flushed, earning a proud grin from her.

“And where exactly is this cute date supposed to be?”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Carnival. Tonight.”

You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Come on,” She said, already pulling her boots on. “I promise not to shoot anyone… unless they deserve it.”

You shook your head laughing, your heart already giving in. You knew how rare this version of her was. Light-hearted, unguarded, and playful. And you’d follow her into that chaos of neon lights and sugar highs in a heartbeat.

After all, if Yelena Belova wanted to go on a date with you, who were you to say no?

The air was already buzzing with color and sound by the time you arrived at the carnival. The sun had just started to dip behind the horizon, casting the sky in cotton-colored hues of pink and gold. Yelena walked a half-step ahead of you, practically vibrating with energy, her black hoodie pulled over her blonde hair and her eyes scanning everything like she was still on a mission. Only this time, her objective seemed to be snacks and fun.

She looked back at you with a wicked grin. “Look at this. Lights, people, unhealthy food; It’s perfect.”

You laughed under your breath, following her as she wove through the crowd like she had a personal vendetta against walking slowly. There was something contagious about her excitement. The way she tilted her head when she saw something interesting. The way she kept glancing back at you, just to make sure you were still there. Like she couldn’t fully enjoy any of it unless she knew you were watching, too.

“First stop,” She declared, abruptly turning toward a cart with a bright pink sign that read $5 COTTON CANDY in hand-painted letters, “is this masterpiece of sugar.”

You watched her argue playfully with the vendor about which color tasted better. She settled on a swirl of pink and blue and held it like a trophy, eyes wide with childlike wonder. You didn’t have the heart to remind her she was supposed to be an elite assassin and not a five-year-old at a fair.

“Want some?” She asked, offering you a piece and raising her eyebrows in challenge.

You reached for it only for her to yank her hand back just slightly, her mouth twitching into a smirk. “Too slow.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to take it from her anyway, your fingers brushing hers in the exchange. It was such a small thing, but it sent a soft flutter through your chest. She must have felt it too, because her teasing look softened for just a second, her eyes lingering on yours before she turned back to face the crowd.

She licked the sugar off her fingers without shame. “We’re going on the Ferris wheel later. And the rides that spins really fast. You’re not allowed to chicken out.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I know your nervous face.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “That wasn’t my nervous face.”

“It was. I’d bet my cotton candy on it.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t eat it just to spite you.”

Yelena laughed, a real one, the kind that made people glance over because it was so unguarded and joyful. She hooked her arm through yours. “Come on, detka. Let’s see what other trouble we can find.”

As the two of you drifted deeper into the glowing heart of the carnival, you realized something: this wasn’t just a date. It was her way of showing she was safe with you. That she could be silly, loud, and sugar-happy, and still be loved for it.

You squeezed her arm gently and let her lead you through the chaos.

You both found your way to the games next. The game booths were loud, chaotic, and suspiciously rigged but none of that mattered to Yelena. She stood in front of a row of milk bottles like she’d been preparing for this moment her whole life. Leftover cotton candy in one hand, plastic ring in the other, and eyes narrowed with laser focus.

“I’m going to crush this,” She announced.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve literally never done this before.”

“Exactly, which means beginner’s luck. Plus, I have exceptional aim. Trained assassin, remember?”

You leaned on the booth’s counter, arms crossed. “Just don’t cry if you lose.”

Yelena hurled the ring with casual precision. It bounced once, then twice, then landed perfectly around the top bottle. The bell rang loudly, and the bored teenager running the booth gave a slow, sarcastic clap before handing her the prize she chose: a horrifically ugly stuffed raccoon with crooked eyes and one arm sewn backwards.

She held it up proudly. “For you,” She claimed, bowing her head slightly. “From my heart to yours.”

You took the raccoon with both hands, staring into its uneven plastic eyes. “It’s… hideous.”

“Exactly why I picked it. You’ll never forget me when you look at this nightmare.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your grin. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And talented. Don’t forget talented.”

She dragged you from booth to booth after that, determined to win as many prizes as possible. Ring the bell? Nailed it. Shooting gallery? Perfect score. That game where you have to knock over cans with a baseball? She asked if she could use a throwing knife instead.

You, on the other hand, were struggling to even hit the board.

“Are you trying to miss?” She asked after your fifth attempt at popping a balloon with a dart ended in disappointment.

“No, I just– these darts suck!”

“Mhm.” Yelena stepped up beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Here, let me help.”

You tried not to melt when she slid behind you, her chin practically resting on your shoulder, guiding your hand with both of hers. “Just like this,” She murmured, close enough that her breath brushed your ear.

You threw. It missed completely.

There was a beat of silence before she said, “Wow. You are very special.”

You turned and whacked her in the arm with your hideous raccoon.

But it didn’t matter that you were failing miserably. She was glowing, laughing with her whole chest, cradling your weird new stuffed friend like a baby, and collecting game tickets and prizes she didn’t even want just for the fun of it. And when she looked at you, her eyes sparkled like the carnival lights above.

“You’re still my favorite, even if you throw like a sad noodle,” She reassured, nudging your side.

“I’m touched.”

“You should be.”

And with that, she grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the Ferris wheel, humming under her breath like she hadn’t just decimated half the booths with supernatural precision.

The Ferris wheel creaked as it turned slowly, the metal glowing under strings of golden bulbs. You and Yelena climbed into your little compartment, and the attendant dropped the safety bar with a clang before sending you off into the air.

It was quiet up here. The kind of quiet that made you breathe a little deeper.

Below, the carnival still buzzed with life with kids screaming from the spinning rides, music blaring over distorted speakers, and food vendors shouting out deals. But it all softened the higher you rose. Up here, the chaos became distant, almost dreamlike. It was just you, the lights, and the warm weight of Yelena pressed against your side.

She leaned back lazily, one leg crossed over the other, her arm stretched across the back of the bench so her fingers just grazed your shoulder. Her other hand still clutched the leg of the cursed raccoon prize, swinging it slightly back and forth like it had done something wrong.

She didn’t speak right away, just letting the moment breathe.

Then she looked at you out of the corner of her eye and asked, “You having fun, or did you agree to all this just because you like me?”

You gave her a look. “You really need me to answer that?”

She tilted her head. “Yes. I like hearing it.”

You huffed out a laugh, but nudged your arm against hers. “Yes, I’m having fun and yes, I like you. Maybe too much.”

Her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile. “Good.”

The Ferris wheel jolted slightly as it came to a stop right at the very top. You could see the entire carnival spread out below in bursts of color and movement. It was beautiful in a messy, overstimulating kind of way.

Yelena leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees, and looked out over the horizon. For a moment, the tough exterior dropped. The teasing, the confidence, the chaos, it all settled into something quieter.

“This is the kind of thing I never really got to do growing up,” She admitted, voice soft. “You know, the normal stuff. Dates, carnivals, sugar highs, and losing terribly at games.”

“You didn’t lose at anything.”

She grinned. “I know. But still.”

You reached out and took her hand, threading your fingers through hers. Her grip tightened instinctively, like maybe she needed that more than she was letting on.

“We can do this kind of stuff anytime you want,” You said. “You don’t have to be good at it or pretend it’s some mission.”

She turned to you fully then, her eyes catching the reflection of the lights below. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.”

Yelena leaned in slowly, resting her forehead against yours. Her voice dropped low, serious in a way that made your chest ache a little.

“Thank you,” She whispered.

And then she kissed you.

Not in that quick, cheeky way she usually did, but soft. Gentle. Like she was asking a question and answering one all at once.

Up there, in the air, lights, and stillness; it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you and neither of you minded one bit.

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #yelena black widow #yelena x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova fanfiction #fluff #marvel fic #marvel x reader #thunderbolts #thunderbolts yelena #request fulfilled #thank you for the request!#yuriayano

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lynxgriffin · 3 days ago

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i Don't think the knight is feral at all actually, it knights kris, and holds back on them, it also... And i hate using this word, but it's accurate, it aura farms for literally no reason, susie taunts the knight and tells it that it can't defeat them in the light world, then laughs in her face, just to make a titan to flex, it didn't ANY of that mind you, they made a titan for literally no reason, it didn't do anything, it was just to flex, as if to say: "Hey, maybe i can't defeat you outside of a dark world, but you know what? I CAN JUST MAKE ANOTHER ONE" I think the knight is very aware of what they are doing, i think the reason they aura farm is literally just... Well, if you knew that your actions were predetermined, if you were following some kind of fate, wouldn't you atleast... Want to have some fun with it, if everythings gonna go a certain way anyway, might aswell dick around, pretend to want to kidnap toriel (Despite having no reason to do so), just to piss this lizard girl off, pretend to fight the party for real, despite being able to effortlessly one shot them in an instant, and dodge all of their attacks (they dodged all of susies rude busters in chapter 4, even though they had their back turned to the party and couldn't see them, meaning they could have dodged all of our attacks if they really wanted to) scream and literally put the "roaring" in the "roaring knight", for again, no reason, they don't do it again, it was just to look cool that one time. We also know that the knight holds back on kris, though i don't think them doing damage to kris at all is that weird, considering that dess canonically beat kris over the head so hard with a wiffle bat, that its FUCKING BENT IN HALF in her room in chapter 4, like do you realize how hard she was hitting kris for that bat to be like that? And the dialouge specifically states that "These things make your head hurt", MEANING it wasn't JUST the wiffle bat, she was beating kris over the head with ICE SKATES, and nobody points that out lol, like she's DEFINITLY willing to hurt kris pretty badly. And even then, despite susie being at -999 hp, she was still able to move and grab onto the knights leg, so i don't think dark world damage numbers really mean much in terms of actual damage. Another idea might be that the knight is acting like a traditional cartoon villain, so that the heroes don't question who they are, or what their motivations are, sort of a kayfabe thing going on.

While I don't know if the Knight made the neo fountain and summoned a titan JUST as a flex, (they could have legitimately needed something that was a guaranteed distraction in order to avoid another confrontation with the Fun Gang), I'll still take these points as yes, the Knight is more aware of what they're doing than first thought.

Also, I'm gonna argue against Dess literally beating Kris senseless with a bat and ice skates; I see no reason why Kris would then look up to Dess as much as they did if she was being physically abusive to them! (Also, the bat that's dented can't be a wiffle bat, wiffle bats are hollow and have holes in them precisely to make them safer.) I think the dented-up things in her room are just her being rough when using her things because that's how she was, not because she was attacking Kris with them. Kris getting a headache looking at them mirrors the "you feel a migraine coming on" message from the Knight fight...basically just further connecting the Knight with Dess.

I think the most reasonable explanation could be the "we already know how this is supposed to play out" aspect of the prophecy basically giving the Knight a degree of confidence in what they're doing. It raises questions as to how much she would know about her place in the prophecy and why she's sticking so much to that role, but it's a useful explanation.

#ask lynx stuff #deltarune spoilers

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changingplumbob · 22 hours ago

Text

Second Round - Day Eleven (Gonk) 2 of 2

@sleepyselkiesims, @sanitysims, @bakersimmer, @invisiblequeen, @abbysimsfun, @fallin4fiction - Sim creators and co-writers

Results based on charisma skill level

Nicola (1.93)

Kristina (2.14)

Evelyn (2.64)

Yasmine (2.91) - Wins date

Arista (3.11)

Nephinae (3.33) - Bonus points

Nicola: I really wanted to win, but I had so much fun dressing up anyway. Producers said they'd send me the negatives so I could get a few of the shots developed back home

Evie: Well, this was still fun...

Kristina: Everyone looked really good and I think that's nice. But Nephinae truly did look incredible, so I get it!

Evie: I hope the group challenge is something I can get a date from

Kristina: We'll do our best

Yasmine: *surprised* I'm third yet I won? Where's the two at? Get it, because one(won), two and three...

*crickets*

Yasmine: Note to self, keep studying comedy.

Nephinae: If there's ONE THING I DO NOT PLAY WITH, it is DRESSING UP!!

Arista: I really put my heart into this one... I'm glad it showed

Nephinae: And second is a great result. If you look at the challenges this round you've been tied first once and second twice

Arista: I don't suppose I'll get any bonus points for being second twice though

Nephinae: There's still another challenge, it could be perfect for you

Yasmine decided for this round she'd like to visit the local cafe for her date.

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Yasmine: I consider myself lucky and the luckiest thing for me is that I’m still here with you.

Deanna: *blushes* That's so sweet

Yasmine: I'm glad you weren't put off by my costume performance

Deanna: Not at all! I thought it was nice you couldn't pick just one outfit to show your love of the earth

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Yasmine: I think we create our own way in the world

Deanna: Any reason for thinking that way?

Yasmine: I just think it’s sad if everything was predestined to be the way it is. We have power to change things

Deanna: I like the idea of being able to change

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Yasmine: Tomarang because it would be nice to live somewhere outside of Simerica

Deanna: I've enjoyed the time since we moved from Willow Creek

Yasmine: Also I heard they have tigers there and I would love to see one in real life

Deanna: Same! And it's a wildlife sanctuary so you know the tigers would be well looked after

Yasmine: *smiles* Yes! A lot of progress is being made with zoos shifting towards conservation

Deanna: I have to say I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family. I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable, not constant packing and unpacking

Yasmine: I would love to live in Tartosa if you choose to stay here

Deanna: You wouldn't find it too confining?

Yasmine: I could experience the beach and see the beautiful scenery it has to offer! Also we'd be in the first world of love with someone special, what's not to like?

Deanna: *smiles* But we'd have to visit Tomorang to see those tigers

Yasmine: So long as we can find an eco friendly way to travel

When everyone is back at the villa it's time to work on their skills. While some challenges are more up to luck, there are some that are influenced a lot by skill. This is the last chance they have to study before the group day challenge, and the next round if they advance.

Nicola and Arista choose to get stuck in to some nectar making, how do you like them apples? Evelyn works on her research and debate skill in the mirror while Kristina chooses to bring up her charisma skill. The date seems to have left Yasmine feeling adventurous as she reads up on rock climbing. Nephinae picks the broader discipline of fitness, she ended up getting a rock climbing date so maybe she's not as bad as she thinks.

Devin: You doing alright De?

Deanna: Not too bad

Devin: How was the date?

Deanna: I had fun, Yasmine is such a unique person, it's great getting to know her

Devin: But no sentiments?

Deanna: I don't know what's wrong with me *sighs*

Devin: Don't be sad! There's still more dates and everyone has off days

Deanna: I just worry I'm letting the contestants down

As it's the groups last day together before the group challenge, final dates, and commencement ceremony, we again head to the spa. Reece (Deanna's best friend) welcomes everyone and escorts them to the meditation area in the back garden. There he leads a guided meditation

Reece: Close your eyes and become aware of your breathing... picture a place that makes you feel calm. It might be the beach, the woods, behind a beloved screen or in front of one...

Reece: Repeat to yourself after me... my success or failure does not change that I deserve kindness

In all it's a very chill meditation. Reece somehow gets a boost to his gardening skill? Yeah I don't understand the mechanics either.

After yoga it's time for dinner, grilled by Deanna herself. The group moves to the picnic area.

Yasmine: These burgers look great

Evelyn: And they're tasty

Watchers note: I'm sorry, I forgot their official name. They're the type that Marta made for her family ofrenda, I think originally from the Dominican Republic?

Arista: I like that we get some relaxing time

Kristina: The whole day has been pretty relaxing, I mean we got pampered this morning

Nicola: I'm just glad we can get proper manicures

Deanna: I don't really do much fancy with my nails

Nephinae: It's hard to have long nails when you work with your hands

Nicola: Any hints on the group challenge Deanna?

Nephinae: She probably can't tell us

Deanna: Well... we'll be going out of Tartosa again

Yasmine: Maybe Evergreen Harbor! We could have a dumpster diving challenge

Arista: *visibly disturbed* Ick

Kristina: Try not to worry about a date Evie, I mean you kissed Deanna, that will have boosted your score

Evelyn: I hope so. I'm really enjoying spending time with everyone here

When the food is finished the group get to experience the main reason for the spa trip - a chance to relax and let go of stress or tension from the competition.

Everyone gets a face mask! Some get massages, some steam in the spa and other relax in the massage chairs. Autonomy is set to full and Deanna always starts in the massage chairs, since those relaxing in the spa normally start chatting pretty quickly.

Unfortunately a particularly avid fan makes their way to the sauna and I have to delete them… which forces everyone to reset, oops… Those in the sauna stand there for a bit before figuring out what they want to do. Kristina contemplates some yoga as a class is starting soon, while Nicola leaves the sauna to chat to Yasmine.

It seems Kristina isn't the only one working on cheering Evie up, Nephinae gives her a big hug! Then a fright? But Evie laughs it off so I guess she didn't find it too upsetting.

While that's going on Kristina and Deanna talk on either side of the pair, can they even hear each other?

In the end though Kristina decides to talk to herself for a bit. Deanna and Arista sit and chat with the rest of the group. Overall they've bonded well, and I think there are some solid friendships among these contestants.

#sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #DatingDeanna #DatingDeannaRound2

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scribesynnox · 19 hours ago

Note

You know what, I was gonna leave it in the tags but I have more thoughts about the hypothetical game cooking in my head right now, so into the comment section you go.

God, the game mechanics are game mechanicing. GOD, I CAN SEE IT NOW.

So like, imagine this with me people. A game for Spaceloaf and Buran. Space Backrooms. The game with start with a prologue cutscene where we’d see what happened, we get this BLARE! And it’s Kef’s art of the blackhole which is so so so pretty and cool and the blinding light contrasting the yawning maw of the blackhole. Then we see Spaceloaf and we see him trying to get away but fail and slowly get sucked into the blackhole. The last thing he sees is all of the light being swallowed up as it’s consumed by the black hole. Then there are flickers of images. Hallucinations maybe? From the suppresive darkness? Ypu see a rusted frame floating towards you.

Blink. Now the rusted frame is grabbing your servo.

Blink. Now you’re being carried-floated in some random direction. Is there a destination?

Blink. Now you’re floating towards the light.

Blink. Now that light is closer.

Blink. Now it’s even closer.

Blink. Wait. T o o c l o S E - !

Then you wake up for real and you find yourself in some weird mirror dimension where physics don’t work like you know it, and also the rusted frame is not a hallucination, he is in fact real and blinking at you.

You maybe scream really loudly at that. Sue you. You thought you were supposed to be dying.

The first part of the game would be on a time limit as both Spaceloaf and Buran race to find the resources and tools needed to create the right fuel for Spaceloaf before he runs out of energon, all while also trying to learn the rules of this new place they’re in. Maybe there are writings of previous people who also got trapped here, journals full of notes and rules that the owner had figured out. The two don’t think too hard about how the journals are all they find and not the writers. Spaceloaf would use his fancy high tech sensors to detect the resources and dangers around them. Buran takes advantage of the fact that he can eat almost anything to do most of the heavy lifting so that Spaceloaf doesn’t burn through his limited fuel to move or use his weapons. All of which eats up his energon supply. If you don’t manage to find a way to refuel Spaceloaf before his supply runs out (ie create an energon converter or find an energon stache somewhere somehow or find some weird alien energon substitute or convert Spaceloaf to be ABLE to consume more fuel types), then Spaceloaf offlines and Buran is left all alone.

The second part of the game, whether Spaceloaf makes it or not, would be, oh I don’t know, trying to find a way home. Or coming to terms that this IS home now and making THIS place a home. Oooooo, yes, that could be fun, two possible paths to take. One where you try to find a way back and one where you decide to stay and fight to carve out a home here.

The game gives no hints as to whether or not it’s even possible TO get back home. You’re in a BLACK HOLE. NO ONE knows what’s in a black hole, because no one has ever gotten out. The odds of there being a way back home is… not looking good. But there was no evidence of there being anything surviving a black hole, so hey, the odds aren’t zero! Those are workable odds! Technically speaking.

On the other hand maybe it’s the smarter safer choice to try and make a home here instead. This place is weird and strange. Its rules are not like the rules either of them knew before. But it’s not… unsurviveable. There are strange lifeforms in this place. Some of which, Spaceloaf and Buran have had to fight off, and others that seems to be somewhat benevolent as they would help the two space shuttles. Perhaps these lifeforms are other people who also got trapped here? And it is a FASCINATING world and if they could learn how to survive here, perhaps… they could learn to thrive here as well.

There would be development moments throughout the game too, like Spaceloaf first introducing himself as Spaceloaf before he quickly backtracks and goes “WAIT NO, it’s Solar Wind. It’s just.. everyone calls me Spaceloaf, but I swear, my designation is Solar Wind. Please call me Solar Wind” and then Buran never letting the mech live it down. Spaceloaf is forever going to be called Spaceloaf by his friends, there is no escape, even with this alien. Or later in the game when Buran reveals his other name that had been given to him by his creators: Little Bird. Or having a talk about the nature of Busan’s existence and how he ended up here. Because it SOUNDS like humans weren’t technologically advanced enough to send Buran off on a space trip, so how did he end up here? Buran growing quiet and then revealing that Earth ended up being swallowed by the blackhole. That’s why there’s so much earth fuel floating around in this place. He doesn’t know why he’s the only one here. He doesn’t know where the humans are. Why nothing seems to have survived except him and some fuels. He wasn’t even supposed yo be alive like this. He was just a space shuttle. Left abandoned in a hangar. He has no idea why he’s like this, or how he’s alive or why he’s so similar to Spaceloaf. Or why… anything is the way it is here.

He doesn’t know.

Or if you don’t make it and Spaceloaf ends up dying in the first part of the game, then you get moments of Buran mourning his first and only friend, reminescing on shared memories, remembering Solar Wind to stay strong while he wanders the place alone. Something something, was abandoned again and again and again. It’s uh. Pretty rough for Buran.

Etc etc. The ideas are just popping through my head and the tumblr tag system stopped me at 30 tags so I had to write the rest up here instead. I see “space orcas” and “blackholes” and “space The Backrooms” and I am gone. LOOK AT THE SURREALNESS OF YOUR NEW REALITY AND MANTAIN YOUR SANITY. FORGET ALL THE RULES YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW.

SURVIVE.

It’s all very fun. I love it.

buran looking like a corpse…

also i think it’d be very funny if buran, sparked from an earth vehicle, was super low tech in comparison, but also can consume all sorts of stuff as fuel

casually takes a swig of regular ass gasoline

AHAHAH OH I LOVE IT

Loaf is all high tech alien with cool sensors and advanced technology and also very specific needs when it comes to fuel while Buran can straight up just..drink whatever. Gasoline, oil, weird and highly flammable alien juice the guy doesn’t give a single fuck. He probably doesn’t even have sensors to smell it properly lol

(Not true for the real shuttles btw but judging by Animated - allspark can do whatever it wants when turning tech into mechs)

#transformers #tf stuff #my writings #writing ideas #space orcas #and also #space backrooms #hehehehehe #tf oc #spaceloaf #Solar Wind #tf Buran #Little Bird #space backrooms and two people trying to survive in a strange world go brrrrrrrrrr

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midnight-drip · 3 days ago

Text

@lautski-week day 6 — home!

steph is coming to pete's house for the first time, and he's got everything planned out so this night goes perfectly. there's just one little thing he fails to keep in mind— this is the spankoffski house. nothing can ever be perfect.

first, when they arrive, he finds ted sitting on the couch in what is possibly the most hideous t-shirt pete has ever seen. normally, he wouldn't mind. ted lived in his own apartment downtown, but he still had a key to the house, and he came and went as he pleased. pete was happy to see him, but he wished ted hadn't decided to come home tonight of all nights. he pulled ted aside, awkwardly explaining that steph was over and saying he was sorry for asking this but, see, their parents weren't home, so he really was thinking tonight would be just for him and steph, so would he please just go somewhere else for the evening?

"yeah, okay," ted acquiesced after a moment of thinking. "I'll go home, let you two have the place to yourselves, eh?" he nudged pete playfully, wiggling his eyebrows. "you know what I mean?"

"it's not like that, ted," pete muttered, shoving his brother gently. "but thanks."

"yeah, yeah, yeah. have fun." ted ruffled his hair, grabbing his things and heading out.

with him gone, pete felt a small weight off his shoulders. now he could get down to work making the perfect night. he turned to steph, smiling.

"I'll get started on dinner. you wanna pick a movie to watch while it's cooking? t.v.'s just over there," he said, pointing steph in the right direction as he walked around the kitchen island and started getting everything ready.

after getting the food into the oven, he walked around to the couch, sitting beside steph. she'd put on some shitty horror film— steph had this odd love for bad movies that pete never quite understood. he had to admit, though, the stupid writing and awkward cgi was kind of growing on him. steph leaned her head on his shoulder, and pete sat there, trying really hard not to talk. he knew that with ruth and richie, it was fine to yap all throughout a film, pointing out little details and fun facts and correcting things— but he didn't yet know how steph would feel about that little habit of his, so he'd been trying to keep the interrupting to a minimum when watching things with her.

suddenly, there was a loud *pop* from the kitchen, making both steph and pete jolt. pete jumped up from the couch, stumbling his way into the kitchen and trying to figure out what had gone wrong. carefully, he opened the oven, taking out the chicken that had been cooking in there.

shit.

it was burnt, and it looked to be that way all the way through. suddenly he remembered something his mother had said earlier that week. the oven needs fixing. he wanted to punch himself. how could he have forgotten? he put the burnt chicken into the compost, sighing. so much for a nice, home-cooked meal.

"uh, so... change of plans, I suppose. I— but— that's okay! we have some leftovers in the fridge, so I guess I'll just—"

there was a gentle crackling noise. the movie stopped, and the t.v. screen went black. then, so did the rest of the room.

everything was going wrong. pete felt like his head was spinning, and he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

then he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

"woah, hey. are you okay?" steph smiled at him, her eyes warm. pete felt his face flush. god, even in the dark, it was like she herself was glowing.

"I'm sorry, steph. I— I wanted this to be perfect, but now... I mean, nothing is going the way I planned. it's turning out to be a total trainwreck. I'm sorry."

"hey. it's not a trainwreck. so what if it's not going to plan? maybe we need to rework the plan."

"rework the plan," he repeated, quietly. "right. okay. yeah."

pete took a deep breath, looking around the kitchen.

"let's rework, then. there's candles just under the sink, there, do you mind lighting a few of those? and I'll... I'll boil a pot of water, there's instant noodles in the pantry."

steph nodded, taking the candles out and starting to place them around the house. she kept looking back at pete as he wandered around the kitchen, thinking aloud.

when the candles were put up around the living room, she returned to the kitchen. pete put two bowls of instant ramen onto the little kitchen island, and the two ate together. afterwards, steph offered to clean the dishes, but pete insisted on doing it himself.

"huh," he remarked when he was finished. "there's still lots of hot water left. I think I'm going to make hot chocolate, uh, would you like some? or coffee? tea?"

"tea would be nice, thanks."

"of course."

as pete set to getting the drinks ready, steph began to talk to him. pete was still a little worked up over everything that had happened, and at first, he thought she was just talking in an attempt to calm him down. still, though, he listened to her. he would always listen to her.

if relaxing him had been her goal, she'd succeeded— by the time he was sliding her mug across the kitchen island, he felt a lot more comfortable with how the evening was going. they went to the couch and curled up together, cradling the mugs in their hands.

"steph?"

"mm?"

"tell me the truth, here. are you really not upset at me about how this night went?"

steph blinked at him.

"why would I be upset with you? nothing that happened was your fault. besides—" she leaned a little closer to him. "I had a good time tonight."

"really?" pete turned to look at her, surprised. everything had gone wrong tonight. yet still, steph had enjoyed it somehow.

"yeah, really. 'cause..." steph trailed off.

"...'cause?" pete prompted curiously.

"nevermind. it's embarrassing."

"come on, that's no fair. I say embarrassing stuff all the time, this is your turn."

steph looked at him, and sighed.

"fine. I had a good time tonight... because I was with you. because no matter what happens, no matter what goes wrong or how bad things get, you're right here for me." she smiled. "you're my home, pete."

#I think the writing for this one turned out really cute (even if I kind of rushed it)#but I really love the art too!#it's been a while since I've done a genuine background for any of my drawings! I forgot how much I love putting little details into them #it's cropped but the fridge has one of pete's school projects put up (A+)#also a list on a sticky note and a polaroid of him and ted when they were younger #but those ones are in the frame #all the mugs in the cupboard pete is opening are based on mugs in my own house #special shout-out to my grogu mug (top left)#one of my favourite mugs #I really like how steph turned out here as well. she's so pretty <3 #lautski week #my art <3 #lautski #peter spankoffski #stephanie lauter

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the-immortal-restless · 3 days ago

Text

Where the heck did that come from?

Lavashipping fanfic -

Important details: Transmasc and indian/asian mix kai, blasian cole, shaky plot that makes sense, set in a time that hasn't past in ninjago canon aka post merge and everyone lives at the monastery including jay but excluding arin who lives (nearby) with his parents.

This is taking place about 10 months after they defeat thunderfang and it relies on suspension of disbelief because they haven't had big bads since thunderfang. Cause kai is pregnant i dont feel like figuring out the logistics of how that baby survives their fight scenes

Cryptic pregnancy for fun

Based on this video by @arttrashking about @quesocheeso 's 3am au

thank you to @goldentigereyemania for giving me a burst of motivation for the very end!

Let me know if you want more about this! I really like the ending!

–

Kai had a problem.

It had been 10 months since they’d defeated ThunderFang. They hadn't had any major villains in a while, thank FSM. Kai had been busy though, mostly trying to help Nya jog Jay's memories or help Lloyd try to figure out what to do about Arin, who seemed determined to help Lord Ras.

Finding Arin was proving to be difficult…

He had been having incredibly bad cramps all morning. These were beyond normal cramps during his period but he was kind of assuming that was because he had been so stressed these past months due to Nya being stressed over Jay’s amnesia.

He didn’t even realize until two weeks ago that he had gained 8 pounds and his stomach had bloated a bit. He’d been having intense heartburn lately and really bad nausea. He’d considered going to zane to make sure it wasn't anything bad. But he didn't want to take his attention away from more pressing matters. Like Jay’s memory, or finding arin.

Kai hated seeing Nya this way. No matter how much he masked his concern with tough confidence, he was a worrier.

One of these intense cramps came as he was trying to drink a glass of water.

Unfortunately for the skin of his hands, Kai was stronger than a glass cup and the glass shattered in his grip. His hand was immediately lacerated by the shards and he groaned as blood seeped around the shards.

Both Nya and Zane’s heads snap toward Kai at the sound of shattering glass. Both of them look shocked, concerned, and worried about their friend’s sudden show of immense strength.

“Kai…” Nya spoke in a gentle and evidently worried about her older brother.

“Yeah I think I’m having just some bad cramps, I'm long overdue for a period,” Kai responded. “Though I suppose I'm going to need some bandages now.”

“Even late periods are not supposed to hurt enough that you break glassware because of the pain. Follow me to the medical bay and we can run a routine scan.” Zane stepped toward Kai with Nya standing to follow. “I’ll come with,” She said quickly.

“Fine, but it better not take too long. I wanted to go to the amusement park with you and Jay,” Kai said as they walked down the hallways towards the medical bay.

Zane helped Kai onto the hospital bed so he could sit on the end of it.

Another cramp hit Kai pretty hard and he grabbed the bed railings and Kai made a pained noise as he actually bent the bedrail slightly. Nya stood at his other side and placed a hand on his shoulder as he began to breathe heavier.

Zane scans over Kai’s body before humming quizzically.

“Kai, were you aware you were pregnant?”

Both Kai and Nya freeze up in pure shock before they both look at him and shout; ”WHAT”

“Yes, you are, in fact, in active labor. Your so-called ‘cramps’ are actually contractions.”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN I’M PREGNANT?!” Kai shouted worriedly

“I SECOND THAT?” Nya says only slightly less loud than Kai had been. “How?!”

Zane sighed before using his internal systems to contact P.I.X.A.L to let her know the situation and request her assistance.

“Children are conceived through–” “I KNOW HOW CHILDREN ARE MADE!” Nya shouts back

Another contraction hits Kai like a molotov cocktail hits a building. Hard.

Kai wailed quietly as a feeling of tightness overtook his abdomen. “Can we talk about this another time?!” Kai begged as a painful sensation overtook his lower regions.

“I agree that you both could continue this discussion at a later time.”

Nya makes a noise of hesitation before agreeing and helping Kai scoot back and properly lay against the hospital bed. “I’ve already contacted P.I.X.A.L., she should be here shortly to aid in delivery.”

“Can you contact Cole aswell.”

“What? Why Cole?!” Nya asked with an accusatory tone.

“I’ve already done so. Though he is currently on a mission with Lloyd, he will likely be unable to arrive in time.”

P.I.X.A.L. arrived at that very moment, as if the situation could get more chaotic. “I am here to aid in this endeavor.”

“Welcome to my personal hell,” Kai whined as he gripped the bedrail.

P.I.X.A.L. hums before she walks over to Kai’s right side and does her own scan of his biometrics.

“Nya could you go grab something else for Kai to wear, preferably something open to allow the baby to come out,” P.I.X.A.L. suggested as she placed the back of her index and middle finger to Kai’s forehead.

Nya nodded with a bit of a shocked and worried expression before looking to Kai for reassurance, of which he quickly put on a brave face and nodded.

“Has his water broken yet?” She asks as she places the electrode stickers to his chest.

“Not to my knowledge” Zane answers

“I think it might have broken last night. I thought I was sweating. It was really hot last night.”

“Well at least we don't have to worry about that” P.I.X.A.L. said, trying to be somewhat positive about the strange situation.

After a long time Nya came back, holding one of Kai’s hanfu style robes. P.I.X.A.L. helped Kai sit up and he changed into the robe. “How on earth am I pregnant? Should my stomach be much bigger?”

“It is very likely you are experiencing a cryptic pregnancy. It is roughly one in a million. But it is possible,” Zane adds, “I need to attach an IV.”

“Go ahead” Kai says casually, “Great so I just happen to be one in a million.”

Zane sticks the small needle into the back of Kai’s hand. Kai laid back against the bed his temperature rising, thought he barely noticed, he was the master of fucking fire, a little fever wouldn’t hurt him.

Kai was trying to stay calm as P.I.X.A.L. guided him through starting to push, making sure that he wasn't pushing unless he felt a contraction. It was necessarily a proven method of preventing tearing, but she had heard of many, many cases where it had helped more.

Nya stood on Kai’s left side while Zane stood on his right, monitoring his vitals closely.

After several long and painful hours of pushing, a sharp cry rang out through the medical bay’s room P.I.X.A.L. announced, “It’s a girl!”

Kai was breathing hard, the pain beginning to subside, leaving only a burning below his waist.

“I have a daughter?” Kai said with a softer tone than usual, he always had a soft spot for kids. Maybe that's why he took in Lloyd so quickly.

P.I.X.A.L. wrapped the baby in a soft red blanket, using the sensors in her body to weigh the baby girl as she did so, 6.53 lbs. P.I.X.A.L. took notes of the baby’s vitals, noting that she was rather healthy. P.I.X.A.L. handed over the newborn baby girl to Kai.

Kai looked over at his baby girl. She had a darker tone to her skin, darker than Kai, but not quite as dark as Kai, though her hair was an inky black just like the master of earth. She was a little smaller than most babies, being only roughly 5 pounds by his guess.

“Nine months in my womb makin’ me suffer…” Kai adjusts his hold on the baby, making sure to support her neck. She made a fussy noise before settling down in her fathers arms. “And she looks like her other dad?” Kai chuckled softly before slouching backward tiredly and laying the baby against his chest. He tugged his own blanket over his chest, double layering the baby with warmth.

Zane’s right eye pulsed and he spoke up. “Cole and Lloyd are back, they will be here in approximately five minutes.”

Kai hummed in acknowledgement just as Cole burst in, panting heavily like he'd just run a 10k. ”WHAT’S HAPPENING?! Zane told me Kai’s having a medical emergency?!” He shouted worriedly, quickly stepping inside, his brow tight with worry.

“Kai is alright, they are both right here.” P.I.X.A.L. informed him.

“Oh thank the first– wait did you say both?” Cole says, still oblivious to the fact that Kai had even been pregnant, let alone given birth.

At that moment Rogue came in. “Whats all the yelling for?” He asked with a firm look, slightly annoyed even. When Rogue finally saw Kai laying on the bed looking like he’d been hit by 67 consecutive trains, his curiosity peaked and he raised a brow. “What happened to that guy?”

It seemed that everyone was appearing now, because Lloyd had caught up to Cole, who had run so fast to get to the medical bay. “Cole holy fuck can you run a little slower next time–?” He wheezed quietly before standing up straighter. “Is Kai okay?”

Kai chuckled at his lover's worry. “Cole, come here, I have a surprise for you.”

Cole immediately moved to Kai’s right side, looking like a worried dog. Kai smiled and pulled at his sleeve, bringing him down for a kiss.

“Here.” Kai strains to sit up slightly higher, P.I.X.A.L. coming to his left and helping him sit up. He allowed the soft blanket covering his chest to fall lower and bunch up around his lap. Kai pulls the half-swaddled lump away from his chest, a soft noise akin to an infant's coo coming from it.

Is that a baby?

Kai holds out the swaddle for Cole to take into his arms. As predictably as possible, Cole rushed forward, fearing the hothead would drop the newborn baby, which in reality, wouldn't have happened. Kai has experience with kids and he is more careful then he lets on.

“You left this in my vagina,” Kai says with the casual demeanor of someone telling another person they left their phone behind on the counter.

Everyone in the room except the nindroids, who had pretty much immediately deduced the situation pretty much immediately, gave Kai a shocked look.

Cole looked down at the baby, who was staring at him with big brown eyes almost identical to Cole’s.

“WHEN DID YOU AND COLE GET TOGETHER?!” Nya shouted in shock, having been the only one not to clock their pretty obvious relationship.

“Nya what do you mean they've been dating for years.” Lloyd piped up immediately

“WHAT?!”

Kai laughed at that. “Nya we’ve been dating for so long, what are you talking about?” Kai looked at his sister with a smile.

“This cannot be real.” She put her face in her hands and laughed softly at her own stupidity.

“Is this our baby?” Cole said, not having been paying attention at all. “Is she actually ours?”

Kai chuckles softly and smiles. “Yes, she's ours.” Kai answers with a loving look at Cole.

Cole smiles down at the baby girl and then back at Kai. “She has your face.” Cole tells him.

“And your everything else” Kai replied with a chuckle.

“But she is a damn cutie.” Cole countered playfully. “What do we name her?”

Kai looked at the baby girl with a thoughtful look, a deep hum coming from him.

“I really like the name Lily.”

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