#sorry another long drabble

[rarepairjokers]

poly!jo taking care of pregnant Nace :3

WHO ARE YOU AND WHY AREN’T WE MARRIED?! Since you obviously know my favorite things!

(sfw text) (btw, if you meant ‘taking care of😉 wink wink nudge’ please don’t hesitate to prompt again)

“Need help?”

Nace grunted a ‘yes’ and took hold of the outstretched hand. He’d been writhing on the ground for an embarrassingly long time and had been about to start flailing his useless limbs in the air until someone would’ve picked him up bridal style, but thankfully the rescuing hand pulled him to his feet and up to Kris’s level.

“Thanks.”

Kris smiled and dusted off Nace’s pants. Bojan, who’d been chatting to other expectant mothers at the childbirth class, hurried over to assist Nace as they walked to the car.

“Last class before she arrives,” Kris said, getting in behind the wheel while Bojan opened the door for Nace, curtsying as his heavily pregnant mate plopped into the passenger seat.

Nace wouldn’t miss the prenatal classes as such, but he’d miss sitting between Kris’s legs, resting his back against that strong chest while Bojan’s hands gently massaged his protruding stomach that held their little (or, actually, medium-to-large-sized) beloved baby girl. None of them cared to know her biological father, yet judging from her already larger-than-average size, Nace’s guess would be Kris. Possibly Jan. Or perhaps Bojan or Jure just produced big babies. They’d have to test that theory, but not for another few years.

They returned home to the smell of Jan’s cooking and Jure setting the table for lunch. Nace waddled to greet them when he spotted a new addition around the table. Jure had been working on building a highchair lately, and there it was, polished and with a seat padded with soft (but easily wipeable, thank you) cushions, standing right next to Nace’s usual chair.

“It’s perfect.” He gave Jure an appreciative kiss.

“Sturdy too,” Jure said and demonstrated by unsuccessfully trying to wobble it. “Nothing but the best here.”

“It looks great,” Bojan said, his hand lying protectively on Nace’s bump, where he felt it belonged. “But she’ll be too small to use it until she’s older.”

“And until then I’m guessing she has to sit in someone’s lap while we eat?” Jan said, maneuvering among them to serve the sizzling filets, receiving his kiss from Nace and Kris.

“I’ll accept that responsibility if nobody else volunteers.”

“Don’t worry.” Nace squeezed Bojan’s hand. He sat down on the chair Jure had pulled out, doting mates surrounding him. “I’m carrying her for nine months, so when she’s here it’ll be your turn to carry her everywhere.”

[starry-sophrosyne]

Just.

a WOTC spinoff au where Sophist doesn't get banished but Bertrand still joins the rebellion (as/becomes the leader now, maybe for a diff reason like he got suspected instead of sophist for killing his father or something idk-) and Brent is forced to marry Cherie anyways, while he can only watch/help him prepare for his wedding as his best man (around the same time as WOTC, maybe Brent delayed marrying anyone for a few years due to the unstability of the kingdom after Bertrand left and his dad died)

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i might write somewhat of a full version of this as a drabble but i would need to read up on versions of this writing prompt (i need ideas bc motivation for this drabble idea is lowkey low) but GOD the amount of things that would go UNSAID. In this universe, he gently pushes his friend towards the ballroom again, only without a lingering feeling on both of their lips. Because how could he? Right before he was about to get married, and unaware of his true feelings for him too? No, instead, without realizing it, he tears up:

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"Never thought you'd cry at my wedding." — Brent's eyes widened in shock, a look comprised of genuine surprise and concern on his face just as Sophist realized the tears trembling in his waterline. Trying to play it off, he hoped his dear friend would take it as a moment of emotional vulnerability in opposition of what he currently felt.

"Oh, shut up! Am I not allowed to care about you for once? God, you asshole, of course I do! Why wouldn't I? I'm just.. really glad to see you so happy." — He rambled, ripping his glasses off his face with more emotion than he would've liked. Swiping the glassiness of his eyes onto his cheeks, he tried to force a painful smile, but still. He stiffened as Brent gave him something of a somber smile, heart cracking with every second that ticked by. Reasoning and rationality threatened to be swallowed up by his turbulent emotions, even as he gripped his hands together so hard they shook, because why? Why were they put through this? Was it unlucky fate that disdained them, or maybe.. Maybe it was just him. If that was all, then how could he ever be mad or guilty? He didn't deserve this, but he didn't deserve him either, and if Brent truly didn't feel anything for him at all, then he could never ruin his happiest moment. But even still.

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Please, he thought, as he bit his lip so hard he thought it'd bleed, don't walk back to me. Don't give me a reason to make a bad decision.

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"Yeah.." — The room went silent, replaced with wavering smiles and palpable tension. What would he even say at this moment? This was his finality, his never-turning-back.

"Go get em buddy, knock her dead with your dressed up looks!."

"Oh shut up the fuck up." — He laughed once more, but even as he turned around and gripped the door knob, he wanted to stop. Ever fiber of him wanted to turn around, run towards him. Embrace him, kiss him, run away with him; but he couldn't. Not because he didn't want to, but because he simply, couldn't. Too much depended on this marriage. His mother was relying on him, his kingdom was relying on him, Cherie was relying on him. His mother had lost too much, his kingdom had too much to loose, and Cherie was a woman that could bring them the power to end it all; But even still.

Taking a deep breath, he grit and ground his teeth so hard he thought they'd crack. And then, he turned to look back at him once more. And oh, he looked wonderful. His purple brocade vest was embroidered with violet, donning a lacy ruffled cravat as were the cuffs of his sleeves. His pants slim fit and tailored, he looked just like a regular noble, except for his signature mask, which was similarly styled to match his clothing; though his traditional jacket and hat were absconded for the event. Even still, he was perfect, and he wasn't his.

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His eyes lingered just a bit too long, just enough for his hardened heart to crack as his eyes revealed everything he'd wished to hide, unsafe from his best friend's astute observations.

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He swore he saw Sophist's expression change, eyes breaking open into a pool of glassy sorrow, but instead, they closed as he offered Brent an encouraging smile. They squinted back open just slightly but teasingly; a playful gaze that taunted him: "Cold feet, gonna chicken out?" He could practically hear his irritating voice, nagging him in an oh so familiar and lovely way. It helped, as he chuckled and his heart settled just a bit, but even still, he takes a deep breath. He's walking away from what, no, who he loves, but.. as long as he can remain by his side..

It's just enough for him to take the leap forward, as he twists the door knob with a conviction; but even as the light shines on his face and the ballroom explodes with noise, his heart cant help but sink.

[bad-system]

equo ne credite, samuel/oc (blasius)

Horsing around, and something as tender as a bruise. Set in 1402, before the events of KCD2.

———

“Hah,” Samuel grunted. “Fuck.”

Blasius looked up from counting groschen he’d won the night before inquisitively. Samuel barging into their shared room was hardly an oddity, but him gripping the door with a winded breath was a less common occurrence. 

“Getting too old for the stairs?”

Samuel pointed a sharp glare in his direction before trudging towards his own bed and collapsing on it. “Your prized cow kicked me again,” he bristled. He lifted his tunic carefully, revealing a wide, developing bruise on his hip. Blasius, more alert now, crossed the room in two steps to crouch in front of Sam. He nearly reached for the mottled skin before remembering himself quietly, like a coward.

“I told you,” he hummed, voice infuriatingly mild as he rummaged through his travel bag. “He hates being fed a kosher diet.” 

Basheer, his beloved bay Arabian, was a fickle beast at best, a fiend at worst. He was a content creature with Blasius’ ever-changing horizons, filled to brim with wanderlust almost as much as his owner. Though recently, Blasius’ unusually prolonged stay at Kuttenberg had started making the animal feel restless. Samuel, by extension, was bearing the brunt of it.

“Farshiltn vildeh khayah,” he winced, undoubtedly venting his frustrations at the horse as he gingerly touched the bruise.

Blasius tossed a calendula ointment from hand to hand as he returned to Samuel’s side. He took a seat next to him on the bed, tutting sharply at Sam when he failed to raise the tunic high enough. Exasperated, Samuel rolled it up higher as Blasius’ long, slender fingers carefully spread the orange ointment over the discloured skin. Smooth, warm. Almost as mottled with want as Blasius himself.

“You’ve been hanging out with my mame for too long.” Sam noted as he regarded the careful, tender motion. 

Blasius snorted. “You could do with some mothering.”

His glee, however, was cut short as he stood up and his knee made a noticeable ‘crack’ in the quiet of the room. He froze for a moment before catching Samuel’s face bloom with a barely suppressed shit-eating grin. 

“Not a word,” he warned.

“By the sound of it, I think you might be fit for the job,” Samuel laughed. Blasius shot him an unamused glare.

“Mind your manners, boy,” Blasius hissed, but it did little to assuage Sam’s unrepentant laughter.

Samuel let himself collapse on the bed with an exhale as he regarded the cartographer again. Though, instead of retiring back behind his desk, he watched Blasius gather up Samuel’s sleeping shirt from the floor—watched, but didn’t expect him to make for the door with it.

“Oy!” Samuel shot up. “Where the fuck are you going with that?”

Blasius didn’t slow down. “Feeding your tunic to Basheer,” he called over his shoulder, letting the door thud shut behind him.

Samuel swore colorfully and scrambled after him, barefoot and cursing.

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Blood Contract

Hello! I got a gift! I am not obsessed with your AU of my AU at all :D

Okay so... I may have gone a bit overboard. As always. It is just a gift for my friend. It is theirs to do with whatever they want :D So if you @spotaus like stuff from it be free to see it as canon :D and use however you like <3

I tried not to go too far with world building or lore because, again, it is yours but i always sneak in little things :3 Hope you like it :D

*-----------------*

Nim looks up from her papers as she glances through the window of her carrage.

Ugh. It is always so slow.

Her powers and her magic hums in her. Burning hotter than the sun in the desert. Warming than a burning fire. So ready to do waht is needed. So ready for her to pick what she wants and how.

And this is still the weak version of it all.

She sighs as she leans back. She is getting older. Her weak body isn't able to handle the magic as well as she used to. Good thing that her heir is almost here.

Nim looks to the side and grabs one of her special magical orbs. She had a few made specially for this trip. She activates it with a touch and the orb shows her own personal healer.

The healer bows and waits after a respectful "My king."

Nim hums as she lounges back in her soft seat "How is my heir?"

The healer walks to the side and there is the one carrying her heir. The healer uses magic and speaks to her "Both of the twins are growing well and even. Neither of the souls seems to be progressing quicker than the other and both are almost fully grown. The chances of both twins being born healthy is getting near the 60% now!"

Nim feels herself smile as she purrs softly "Finally."Finally good news. It had taken a long time for her to finally have one of her many mates manage to carry her a heir. The risk of carrying twins rather large and most of the monsters dying before the twins had a chance to be born. taking her possible heir with them to be one with the stars.

One of her many mates looks up at the orb and looks at her "My liege! I am so excited to meet your children! Will you be back soon?" they look at her. hopeful and desperate. Nim knows there is full loyalty.

Nim just gives a smile "I will be back when I get back." This trip is very necessary.

After all. The one carrying the twins won't survive. The soullings will be too big for the carrying soul to handle or deliver safely. meaning the temporary mother will die soon after the twins birth. and Nim will take her rightful place as their mother.

But Nim is a very busy woman. Very busy and very powerful. She does not have the time to raise two children. One of which to the perfect sacrifice and the other as her perfect heir.

Which is why she is looking for the right person to take care of her heir.

She smiles as she remembers herself. the rush of power. the emotions running high. claiming what was rightfully hers and growing so much more powerful. Her first mate. There ready for her to finally claim as hers as they had always been.

Nim sighs wishfully. Such a shame they didn't live long. They had been perfect in every way. So handsome and kind. With her every step of the way. They had even managed to carry twins on the first try!

Only for them to die. Their soul burst when the soullings grew too large.

The soullings had survived.

She had killed them.

And she started over.

Attachments are a weakness waiting to be exploid.

But this time! This time! it will be perfect. her little heir will have the perfect little first mate. She will encourage her heir to have multiple mates. form a harem early on. the first one to start it off and keep track of it and the others to make possible heirs.

It will be perfect. Just like their kingdom.

The carriage stops and Nim leaves it. It is some poor useless town. Just useful to retrieve sacrifices from.

Or... to find someone who seemed promising. This better be worth her trip. the last four options had been lacking.

She walks through the town. Her guards behind her with her few items she picked for this. People see her and look away right away. they bow and do not make eye contact.

Good.

They are all beneath her.

She walks straight to the place she had found. She gets to a small shack of a place. seems like it is a small store for everyday needs. Most likely the only spot for this small town to get things.

She walks in.

There is a skeleton behind the counter who looks shocked before quickly bowing and muttering softly "My king. You honour us." another skeleton walks out of the back but quickly bows at the sight of her.

Fear in the air.

Nim holds up a hand "Rise." both skeletons rise as she looks around. the two adults. where is number three? "I am here for a very special quest. Everyone in the household is to come outside. This plac eis far beneath me." ugh. The very fact she had to step into this raggy run down mess of a store. selling cheap and second hand wares?

disgusting.

She leaves the store and walks out to the street. people are watching through the windows and a few remain by the edges of the road.

It takes only a moment before the first skeleton walks out. He stands before the store and kneels down on the ground and stays kneeled.

A few moments later the skeleton from behind the counter walks out. behind her walks a much smaller and younger skeleton. There he is.

She joins her husband and kneels as well. The younger skeleton moves to join his parents but Nim holds up a hand and snaps her finger.

The young skeleton freezes and stares at her for a moment before looking down adn mtutering "I... I... I will... kneel? sorry?" he keeps looking down adn shaking as fear hangs heavy around him. There is even more fear from the two skeletons already kneeling.

Nim walks over to the child and looks at him "How old are you?"

the child flinches but speaks "I am seven your highness..." and he stays silent.

Nim nods to herself. That is the right age after all! At least this time her sources were useful and correct. It is often a hit and miss if the sources turn out to be either of those.

Nim nods and looks at one of her guards "Bring me the seeing orb."

She ignores the fear around the skeletons. and how more fear joins their feelings from the people around them. They should be afraid. The only thing which lets them live as they are is her mercy. They should be thankful that they are even allowed to stay near her very presence.

The guard walks over and gives her the seeing orb. She aims it at the young skeleton and speaks "Who will he be if I choose him." And she stares into the orb.

It takes a moment. a few quick flashes. She sees her castle. Lessons. training. filling meals and-

oh?

Seems like this child will be an exceptional pretty skeleton.

Good. It would just be poor planning if she gave her heir an ugly first mate. she looks to the guards and nods before looking at the skeleton as she hands the orb back "What are you called?" Hopefully it is a good eough name. otherwise she will have to spend energy on thinking off a better one.

The skeleton shrinks futher in on himself but answers "My name is Ccino mister- i mean... my king..."

nim considers the name. Ccino is not a name you hear often. it is clearly not a royal name but it is rare enough to not be obvious as a commoner name...

Nim nods "You may keep that one." she naps her fingers "To the carriage."

Ccino looks confused but her guards walk over and grab him. He lets out a distressed chirp as he looks back to his parents "mom? Dad?!"

both skeletons had risen to their feet "Ccino?!"

The mother looks at her begging "please... please why are you taking ccino? we... we payedour taxes and gave most of the extra we earned! we swear we have prove and documents to proof this!"

The other skeleton tries to get to ccino but guards blcok him. Ccino is pushed into her carriage and the carriage is locked. Ccino looks through the window clearly panicked and with tears running down his face.

Nim slowly turns to the skeleton daring to speak to her "There is a very important position which he will be filling."

The skeleton trembles as she glares at Nim. Tears running down her face "That is my son!"

nim just watches the other. unimpressed and annoyed "Adn you are being hysterical. Then again." she snaps her fingers and the guards grab both adult skeletons "It is important that new servants know their place."

Nim slowly pulls out a contract she had put together. As long as the child is underaged his parents will be in charge of binding documents concerning him. She uses magic and the contract unrolls. Nim taps it ones and her own signature appears on it before letting a few of her own drops of blood fall on it.

Nim speaks calmly "You will sign this. and Ccino will be property of the royal family." she lets it fly closer to the held skeletons.

the female shakes her skull and struggles "No! Never!" The other skeleton is much the same.

Nim sighs as she raises a hand. She can't believe she has to use some of her actual powers for this. it is as if these idiots don't even see the oppertunity. that a future in the castle will be much brighter and perfect than whatever mess of a life he could have here.

both skeletons shudder as they slowly raise their hands.

"No! No! Please don't! Don't take our son! please!"

The begging is annoying and their desperation is hard to control.

See? This is exactly why she will make sure her heir is much stronger. Much much stronger.

The signatures appear on the paper and the guards raise both the parents hands above the contract. Nim watches as the guards cut both hands and blood drips unto it.

Sealing the deal and contract with magic and blood.

It rolls itself up and nim takes it as the skeletons sob and beg. She waves towards the building the both are moved into it before the door closes.

Nim watches the building for a moment before using a simple fire spell to set it ablaze.

The flames are mesmorising.

The screams and cries are annoying.

She watches until the fire dies down. she watches as the guards search the remains. Only returning with dust mixed with the ashes. No way to even know which is which.

She turns her back on the no longer existing building and walks towards her carriage. she enters it and takes a seat in her usual spot before turning her sight on the shaking ball of bones in the corner. Sobbing and crying loudly.

Nim speaks as they start moving "You will pull yourself together if you wish to be useful. I have no need for useless things."

Once he had the first few classes she will tell him what his role will be.

No need to explain to someone who may not even make it through the first week.

If he does however make it through? He will need lessons on how to care for children and all that comes with it.

But she has people for that. No need to get herself involved more than she needs.

She relaxes as she looks through the window. Enjoying the view.

What a perfect day in the perfect kingdom.

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — blind spot.

JANUARY 11, 1986

The key turns in the front door, the winter chill rushing into the house. A moment later, the hall light turns on.

“Mom? You awake?” 

Sylvia smiles at the sound of her son’s voice, putting down her crochet things on the end table.  

“We’re in here, Georgie!” 

Carefully, she stands, easing her grandson’s head off her lap and tucking a pillow underneath. She’s pretty sure the kid must’ve been an acrobat in another life; there’s no way he’d be able to sleep all twisted up like a pretzel otherwise. She readjusts the blanket she’d put over him, smoothing down his hair, before meeting her son and daughter-in-law halfway.

“Well, how was the party?” she asks, leaning up against the breakfast bar as George and Lorraine hang up their coats. “You two crazy kids have fun hobnobbin’ with the head honchos at Simon & Schuster?” 

“It was nice, Mom, thanks,” George answers, way too dismissively for a party he’d been talking about for weeks, full of editors and publishers and everything he’d always dreamed of, “but–”

“How was Marty?” Lorraine interrupts, urgently.

Here we go. Finally, some answers.

“Lorrie, honey, you know Artie and I always love bein’ with the kids,” Sylvia begins, and she meant it, even though Artie had called it a night about three hours ago and was now snoring loud enough to shake the walls, “but seventeen goin’ on eighteen’s a little old for a babysitter, don’t you think?” 

“Oh, we’ve just been so worried about him, Sylvia,” Lorraine pleads, eyes wide. “We… we didn’t think it would be a good idea to leave him alone.” 

“For the last few months,” George elaborates, wrapping an arm around his wife and holding her close, “he hasn’t been himself. He doesn’t sleep, he’s been having nightmares… he’s been having memory problems, too, and I know he’s a teenager, but sometimes he’ll get in his own head and it’s like… he’s not even here, like he goes somewhere else instead.”

“He’ll get so confused,” Lorraine agrees, “and-and he used to love thunderstorms but now he’s just so afraid of them and... other things… sometimes it even feels like he's afraid of us…” She bites her lip and buries herself into George. 

It breaks Sylvia’s heart to see them like this; in mourning for the boy who’s alive and breathing and fast asleep on the couch. Just a few hours ago her and Marty were singing along to the radio while making dinner and laughing until they cried trying to play games on his Nintendo while eating Lucky Charms by the bowlful.

“We must’ve missed something,” George murmurs, “something must’ve happened to him and we missed it somehow.”

“We’ve just been so busy,” Lorraine laments, “too busy. I-I thought it was the stress… with college applications and everything changing… but even Jennifer and Doctor Brown don’t know what’s wrong.”  

Sylvia isn’t quite sure she buys that. 

She may not know a lot of things, but she does know that Carl Sagan from 1931 certainly doesn’t look like that nice young man on PBS from a couple years back but did look a whole lot like that whiz kid Emmett and even more like her grandson’s best friend, that nice Doctor Brown, that Emmett grew up to be. 

She also knows that Sonny Crockett (who is pretty much all they talked about at dinner tonight) is from one of Marty’s favorite shows, not that kid from 1931 with her grandson’s sweet blue eyes and a fake mustache.

She even remembers George begging her and Artie to help him get all dolled up for some dance at the last minute and talking all about how he wasn’t going with a date but he was going to meet up with his new friend Marty there.

Not to mention the date on that Bubble Bobble game of his is two years from now.

When you grow up around liars and cheats, you get to be really good at noticing things. 

“So how was he tonight?” George asks again. “Really?”

“Georgie, sweetheart, he was fine,” Sylvia emphasizes. “We had a great time. As for the other stuff… Remember what you were like when you were his age? I sure do. Any time your dad and I got near ya we’d have to promise we weren’t tryin’ to look in your journals. Even if we were just givin’ you a hug!”

They crack a smile at this, George at least having the decency to look sheepish.

“Whatever’s going on with Marty,” she continues, “he’ll tell ya when he’s good and ready. And remember: you’re great parents. He loves you. He’d do anything for you. Just be there for him until then and let him know that you love him too. No matter what.”

Sylvia looks over her shoulder at her sleeping grandson, a fond smile and a mischievous look in her eye.

We got a lot to talk about, kiddo. I’m ready when you are.

[captainseamech]

             There was aggressive knocking at Mayor Luskey’s door, almost breaking it and seemingly impatient too. It was way past midnight, clocking around 4am even, of course the man would be upset to be awaken from his sleep. Grabbing the toupée and wearing only the top part of his suit over his pajamas, the man headed outside his home, prepared to scream at whoever dared to wake him up in such a trivial hour...

             Only to find that the perpetrator of such ‘crime’ was none other than High Tide himself, standing just outside in road with thick steam billowing from the corners of his mouth. Oh, he was not happy, and the mayor very quickly realized that with a yelp and shrinking his shoulders as the green light of the mech’s optics beamed over his round figure.

             “O-Oh! I-It’s you! Uh, High Tide, right?” The man trembled in fear and forced his body to approach the fence surrounding his house, giving a nervous wave with an equally nervous chuckle. “To what do I owe you the—”

             “Don’t try to be buddy buddy with me now, Luskey.” High Tide quickly interrupted with a snarl, holding back the urge to be aggressive as much as he could. “I try to do my best to stay out of yer business and always fetch ya yer precious little yachts every time ye sink one. And what do I get in return? Well, ye should guarantee that Heatwave and the rest o the team doesn’t get in serious danger.”

             “Now I object to that!” Luskey pointed a finger at the mech, immediately regretting his action when a growl was heard. “I-I mean, yes I am aware of our deal and I’m doing just what we have discussed prior! You make sure my yachts are always in perfect condition when you retrieve them and I protect the Burns family with the bots too. All is good according to those terms, right?”

             “WRONG!” The sea mech practically roared in response, the steam now escaping from his shoulder and face pipes while getting even thicker. “Not only ye failed to ‘protect’ Heatwave like ye just implied, but ye brought inexperienced people to yer stupid fireworks show, which led to utter disaster!” The cluelesness of the mayor made High Tide disapprovingly click his glossa behind his dentae. “Ye have no idea of what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, do ya? Well, how about ye pay more attention to that stupid reporter instead of sleepin’ and take a look at this?!”

             Opening a temporary screen with the glass of his chest plate, High Tide repeated the broadcast given by Huxley and even dared to show Heatwave’s condition from his point of view. The mayor seemed uninterested and slightly concerned at first — of course he would — until the screen changed for a second time to showcase High Tide’s view of the situation, which made him show relief. “Oh thank goodness the pyrotechnics crew are okay and mostly unharmed!”

             Wrong set of words, buddy. Even his wife, who was spying them both from the door in her robes, quietly facepalmed at her husband’s sentence.

             “Oh really? So what you are sayin’ is that you’re not a little bit concerned about Heatwave’s safety and wouldn’t mind if he died as long as your little precious crew was alive and well?!” The man gesticulated as in an attempt to rephrase himself better, but the mech quickly cut that short. “Nah ah ah! Don’t try and lie to me, yer first impression already said everything that I needed to hear.”

             “Now ye listen ‘ere, ye scummy scallywag.” High Tide towered over the mayor and pointed a digit at him, his shadow practically taking over the scenario. “Ye may care less about the bots, but they try their best to make sure yer citizens are all alive and well, especially Heatwave as he’s always in the front lines guidin’ the team. Now thanks to yer lack of care, he’s temporarily out of commission, which means I will be snoopin’ in yer business whether ye like it or not.”

             There was a pause as High Tide leaned in dangerously close to the mayor, green hues ominously washing over the human as he trembled in fear while hugging his toupee for dear life. “And since I’m currently in charge, here’s what I have to say: Stop hiring hatchlings to take over dangerous situations like this one. Stop callin’ people ye don’t know from Maine to delay our efficiency with rescues. Maybe if ye stop spendin’ yer money on a new yacht or useless project that will endanger the whole island, none of this would’ve happened since ye would use that money to hire capable professionals. Am I clear?”

             Mayor Luskey gulped. “W-Well I—”

             “Am I clear, M̸a̶y̶o̴r̷ ̴L̷u̶s̸k̷e̴y̷?” He interrupted with static in his voice and a threatening snarl, causing the man to shriek in fear and quickly nodding his head multiple times. “Good. I expect ye to send a proper apology letter to Heatwave after tonight’s absolute catastrophe.” Getting up to his pedes, High Tide turned and went his path back to the firehouse, heavy pede falls following him through.

             What a way to start the year.

[luvuomi]

goodness i have never felt so seen by a character .. i think im going to enjoy this show a lot ^w^

[millenniumdueled]

The End of the World, Again: part 2

Yugi

The group emerges from the rift to find themselves in the crumbled remains of an ancient, tiered city, long forgotten. Before them stands a massive door to the uppermost level, from where that great pillar of teal light seems to be projected.

"that must be where dartz is..." Yugi speculates, craning his neck as he follows the light upwards.

Seto

"No time like the present, then."

Seto opens the door to fated destiny's destruction, nothing but confidence and irritation.

Yugi

Yugi nods in agreement and makes his way to the large door. It leads the Duelists to an open courtyard, stone pathways leading to a central domed structure over a shallow pool. The pillar of line eminates from the top of the dome, and a crystalline statue of a familiar foe sits below.

"Careful, Partner..." his Other Half warns as Yugi approaches the crystal statue.

He steps up onto the platform of the domed structure, glancing over his shoulder at the others, and around the courtyard. But as he reaches out to touch the statue, suddenly the crystal falls apart to nothing more than dust on the wind. Yugi's eyes widen, and Dartz's laugh echoes around them again

Seto

Upon hearing the laughter that grates on his nerves and his ears, Seto readies his Duel Disk to play monsters for the fight. He takes a defiant step forward, knees bent slightly for poise.

"Dartz! Where are you, snake food?! Show yourself!"

Yugi

"I'm with my god now. Don't worry, Seto. You'll join us soon enough," echoes Dartz's voice from the dome overhead. As his words finish, that bright pillar of light splits into four, each arcing in a different direction over the side of the island and plunging deep into the ocean far, far below.

Joey

It's a good thing he's focusing on the task at hand. The emptied soul squares were creepy, the portal was weird, this empty city is creepy as hell, and the life-sized glass Dartz that just disintegrated for no reason? You guessed it, creepy!! The disembodied voice is not helping, though at least Joey only jumps a little when all that light goes shooting outwards again. He heads to the edge of the domed area to try to look over, see where it went.

His jaw drops as a massive green serpent winds and twists its way out of the ocean, into the sky, flying towards them. It's big enough to coil around the entire floating city. "Holy-! That thing could pick its teeth with any of the Egyptian God monsters! That's the Great Leviathan!?" Well. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. But damn.

"...Is it just me or does he have a pimple?"

Yugi

At Joey's comment, the Other Yugi squints at the enormous snake that looms over the Duelists. He gasps when he realizes.

"That pimple is Dartz!"

The Leviathan roars in response.

The Pharaoh wastes no time, immediately drawing and summoning the first three monsters in his deck: Dark Magician, Summoned Skull, and... Kuriboh. As the monsters appear, as flesh and blood rather than projections of light, the Other Yugi pulls one more card, and the dragon Timaeus joins them.

Joey

"Eugh!?"

Joey follows Yugi's lead, summoning Flame Swordsman, Jinzo, and, of course, Red-Eyes Black Dragon. He's liking these battles that don't stick strictly to the rules. To top it off, he's got Hermos next in his deck, and he wastes no time bringing him out as well. "ALRIGHT!! We got this!"

Seto

Seto bares his teeth at the monstrous creature, pulling from his Extra Deck to summon Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon, Gadget Soldier, and Vorse Raider, who has been loyal to him through this entire ordeal- and, finally, Critias. Seto feels the monsters all share a smiliar dedication to their Duelists, and to the world those Duelists live in; they have to give this battle their all.

Dartz looks down at the humans and their Duel Monsters and gives his heartiest, cruelest laugh yet, mocking them. "HAHAHAHAHAHA! Is this all the Chosen Duelists have to muster?!"

"Shut it, hood ornament! Prepare to get blasted into next week!"

Yugi

Once all three legendary dragons are summoned, the Other Yugi feels a pull in his heart that tells him to draw another card. And so he does. He immediately slides Legend of Heart into place in his DuelDisk, and the three dragons regain their human, knight forms.

He stares that enormous snake down with all his rage as he calls on all of their monsters to attack as one. A bright, white light encompasses the battlefield, leaving the Duelists temporarily blinded by the united front.

But when the spots clear from his vision, the Other Yugi gasps.

The great Leviathan still stands, seemingly unaffected by the all powerful attack.

Dartz laughs again. Though his torso and head look so small protruding from the massive monster's face, his guffawing still echoes.

The Pharaoh grits his teeth, plants a foot in the ground below him. He draws another card and plays Multiply. Outside of the rules of Duel Monsters, he uses the spell card to amplify the knight Timaeus's attack. Once again, a great burst of light errupts.

And once again, the serpent stands as the lights fade. Completely unharmed by the mighty affront.

Seto

Seto shields his eyes from the massive onslaught's discharge of light, having no time to marvel at the Knights who came from the Dragons. He supposes it makes sense, in a way... but he did prefer their dragon forms to these humanoid Knights. Joey seems far more surprised, at least, until they're all blinded again by Timaeus's follow-up attack.

Which, still, does nothing.

"Oh, is that it? Your magnificent mosquito bite?" Dartz giggles, which somehow stings more than evil laughter. "Then I suppose it's my turn!"

The great snake rears up, gathering negative light into its huge maw...

Yugi

As the Leviathan draws energy for its attack, the Other Yugi thinks quickly. He pulls another card, and holds it into the air as he calls for Timaeus. The knight absorbs the powerful defense of Big Shield Gardna into his sword, projecting a barrier of light that shields the Duelists.

But the other monsters aren't so lucky.

When the Leviathan's attack fades and the Full Barrier Shield finally disappears into a cloud of glitter, the Duelists stand with only their Knights left to protect them.

As the snake stares them down, those iridescent auroras begin to glow overhead once more. The great beast raises its head, pausing to investigate the colorful lights.

Glowing bubbles seem to emerge from the aurora, and the Other Yugi gapss as he recognizes a voice coming from one. The Dark Magician Girl, who he had met the night he freed Timaeus, calls out to her fellow monsters to unite against the serpent. One after another, dozens of those bubbles of light crash into the snake.

"Help from the other side--!!" the Pharaoh gasps as he realizes.

Seto

Seto stares for a moment where the Duel Monsters are hitting the Leviathan, watching for any damage that may occur... but it's not enough. He turns back to the other two Duelists. "Hey- Yugi, Idiot, we should take this opportunity to regroup, while he's still surprised enough not to attack us again!"

Which leads to Seto summoning his XYZ Dragon Cannon, Blade Knight, and Kaiser Seahorse. They're less than his best monsters, but with Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon in the graveyard... it's what he has available.

Yugi

The Other Yugi nods in determined agreement with his rival. He tosses him a quick smirk, but in a fraction of a second, his focus is returned to the great beast.

The futility of the monsters' attack won't shake his confidence. He summons forth three new monsters, Black Luster Soldier, Buster Blader, and Valkyrion the Magna Warrior. A stark upgrade from his last pulls.

Joey

"Don't call me idiot, jackass." There's no heat to the little jab, though, as Joey summons a new lineup. Gearfried, Rocket Warrior, and Gilford the Lightning. "I got your back, Hermos! All you hit him at once! Ain't no way it can stand up to us plus the help of those monsters up there!"

Yugi

Once each Duelist has summoned their next wave of monsters, the Other Yugi orders them to attack. Their monsters leap at the Great Leviathan as one, giving their all as they slash, stab, and blast into the snake's throat.

The massive beast roars, throws its head back, but it shows no signs of damage still. Blade-like spines shoot from its hide, piercing the monsters that hack and slash hopelessly against its thick scales.

Enraged but unharmed, the divine serpent turns its venomous gaze to the legendary knights.

Seto

The Legendary Knights are fearless in the face of this immense God-creature, but, unfortunately for their Duelists, they are but Duel Monsters, nothing more.

Even with all the bolstering in their decks, these Knights cannot withstand a blow from such a monster. They, too, are destroyed.

Dartz then sends tendrils of darkness toward the Chosen Duelists, effortlessly entangling them and pulling them toward his God's obsidian skin. "Don't you see? Even your Legendary Knights have failed you, Chosen Duelists; resistance is futile. All will be consumed by the great Leviathan, and it will drown the world in the darkness of humanity's hearts! Take a moment, now, while you can: hear them inside its belly!"

Joey

Joey watches their monsters get skewered with a wince. "Okay... Maybe we need a plan B." Well they still have their Knights!

And. Now they don't.

"No!! Shit, nothin's workin' on this thing!" he cries out as they get snatched up. He still tries to fight, even aiming a punch at the tendril that grabs him. "Bring it on, you freaky mutant! Ain't no god has kept me down yet, you ain't about to break that streak!!" But then he freezes. Looks around. "...Mai? Valon? Rex??" He looks back up at the Leviathan. Where the voices are coming from. "...I hear you. I HEAR YOU!! I AIN'T GIVIN' UP ON YOU, WE'LL GET YOU OUTTA THERE!!!"

Somehow.

(( as always!!!!! thank you x10000 to @redeyesandchilifries and @blueeyesking !!!!! ))

[weepylucifer]

4 or 48 for steban/ulixes?

4. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

Steban sighs and stares down at his desk. His unfinished essay stares back at him, accusing. Really, the only thing he still needs is a strong conclusion, but he's never been good at these, and he's tired. Then the draft will need to be edited. Steban considers the vast arry of edits that likely needs to be made, and contemplates going missing.

His wrist is cramped from writing. His shoulders ache from having sat hunched over the desk for hours. His eyes are disgustingly sticky with exhaustion. Vaguely, he notes that it has grown dark outside, most probably a while ago.

"Are you about done?" Ulixes asks, shattering the silence.

Uli has been so quiet, Steban almost forgot he's there. But all evening he's been on Steban's bed, a small pile of books close to hand, doing research for an essay of his own.

"I want to walk into the pale," Steban tells him.

"Succumbing to the pale constitutes defeatism, which is the enemy of the cause," Ulixes says, which, Steban has learned to identify in the two years they've been friends, is an Ulixes Joke.

He's too tired to laugh, though, so he just says, "Yeah. Good reminder." He rubs his aching wrist, trying to coax some life into it. It doesn't really help. Besides, he's starting to feel a tension headache coming on. "Alright, let's get it done."

Ulixes cocks his head like a curious creature. "I didn't mean to imply... you don't have to finish it right now. Take a break?"

"I'll fall asleep." He tries to relax his shoulders. Something crackles ominously. "Ouch. This chair might be really bad for my back."

When Steban cranes his neck to look back, Uli has sat up straighter on the bed. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

It's sweet, Steban thinks, how Uli wants to look out for him, but he startles so quickly sometimes. It reminds Steban of when he tried to raise his first plant: he'd plied it with attentions, completely overwatered it, and when it inevitably died, he'd lied on the floor and reproached himself for hours. Okay, the metaphor is getting away from him a little. It reminds him of somebody who's been tasked with safeguarding a fragile, precious thing, who has no experience with fragile, precious things.

"I'm fine," he says, "just tense."

Ulixes fidgets a little. Then he asks, "Do you… well… I mean… I could give you a massage?"

This is so unexpected, it snaps Steban clean out of his fatigue. It's not that he has a problem with the suggestion, but... Uli doesn't really touch people, in general. "Do you know how to do that?"

Ulixes blushes faintly, for some reason, and admits, "I read a manual. From the bookstore." He gestures in the rough direction of the bookstore. Before Steban can ask why he did that, Uli adds, "I thought it would be edifying to... acquire a set of diverse skills. You know, like Nilsen."

Steban nods. "Ah. Of course, that makes sense." Wanting to emulate Nilsen... it checks out. "Well, if you want a test subject for your new skill, here I am."

For a moment, Ulixes seems hesitant. Eventually, however, he approaches. "I haven't done this before," he says. "I can't guarantee it will be good."

Steban smiles at him, because Uli starting a hobby that is something else than reading about war crimes, debating war crimes, or sitting very quietly and thinking about war crimes must be encouraged. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Slowly, skittishly, Ulixes moves to put his hands on Steban's shoulders. "Um... may I...?"

"Hmm?" Will he just start already, Steban thinks.

"Your hair."

"Oh. Right. Of course." He feels Ulixes brush his hair off to one side, and then, finally, Uli's hands settle on his shoulders. He expects Uli to squeeze way too tightly, but this doesn't manifest - his touches are light, gently prodding, checking for tension points. Testing the waters, almost. Eventually, he begins to rub his shoulders, still so lightly, like he doesn't trust himself with more.

"Go on already, I can barely feel it," Steban mutters. Then - and he doesn't quite know where that thought came from, only that it makes him feel a strange thrill, "Actually, should I take my shirt off?"

Uli makes an odd sound, like he just swallowed his own tongue. His voice sounds choked when he says, after a beat, "Yeah, okay."

Steban shrugs off his shirt, folds it neatly and puts it on the desk. He's not squeamish about this stuff, and Uli has certainly seen him shirtless before in the summer, when he just overheats so terribly, but there is a sense of heightened intimacy to it when Uli actually touches his skin. That hasn't happened before, as far as he can recall.

Is he imagining it, or does Uli's breath hitch minutely at the touch?

Then Uli's hands settle finally on his shoulders, and his long, clever fingers begin a kneading motion.

It's surprising how much it hurts - "Oof, you've got some knots here," Uli mutters, and Steban has to gasp mutely as his knuckles dig into a tight, tense spot along the back of his neck - but it's a good pain, benevolent, cleansing, and when it fades, it leaves behind... lightness. Ulixes is squeezing that sore and heavy feeling out of him, and Steban almost gets teary at the intense pressure followed by intense relief.

"The manual said this could hurt a little," Uli explains, and Steban shakes his head and breathes, "You're good. It's all good" as he, his head a little swimmy, has to imagine how it would feel if Uli's hands were on him everywhere like this, stroking and pressing, traversing every inch of him until no part of his body remained unmarked by touch. If he reached around from his back to his chest, palming his nipples, then down his stomach where he's been accumulating just the slightest sliver of softness since mums started sending all those care packages, then down his thighs and up again...

A shivery little sound of pleasure escapes his lips, almost a moan, but Steban can't bring himself to feel embarrassed by it. It simply feels too good to be touched by Ulixes, his comrade, his dearest friend. Alight, elated, he doesn't even mind that he's getting hard, shifting surreptitiously in his seat to build up friction. He hopes Ulixes doesn't see it, but it's a detached hope, and he can't even dredge up the wherewithal to be genuinely apprehensive about it. He bites his lip and contemplates, hazy and needful: he knows Ulixes focuses intently when he's immersed in a task, maybe, if his focus is deep, he won't even notice if Steban cums quietly in his pants, and that'd be that taken care of... he's just not sure if he can cum quietly. Already, he's making all kinds of small noises without wanting to that he can only insufficiently muffle or hold back.

No, undoubtedly, if he doesn't get himself together, Uli will notice, will look him over properly, concerned, and see the bulge in his pants. And that'll likely be the end of this, or maybe... maybe he will see the need in his lap and lean forward, reach down there and take him in hand, cup him in those slim, pleasing hands and draw heights of pleasure out of him...

...Nn-no. That's a little too much. He can't expect that of his friend, nor ask it... Uli has done him a great kindness today already. It would be uncomradely to exploit it, or even entertain the thought. With a great mental heave, Steban jolts himself back to reality.

"Okay," he says when he thinks he can trust his voice to come out relatively firmly, "that was... good. I think... enough, for today."

Ulixes takes his hands away. A part of Steban is relieved, another part wants the touch back. "Did..." Uli clears his throat. There's something odd about his voice. "Did I do okay?"

"Of course." Now, Steban reflects, he only has to get out of this situation somehow with his dignity intact. Maybe he didn't think this whole thing through.

Trying to shield his still-unflagging erection from view, he attempts to half-turn towards Ulixes, heeding too late Uli's startled cry of "No, wait!". He takes Uli in like seeing him clearly for the first time in a while: his hands still raised, his flustered expression, the flush on his face, the... quite sizeable tent in his pants.

"Ah. Hah. Well." Steban is keenly aware that his attempt at an urbane laugh just comes out... weird. He can feel his face heating up. But surely this isn't... well... they both understand these things, don't they. They're progressive, forward-thinking individuals, men of the world really, and as such enlightened intellectuals, they don't make a big deal out of it when they get hard touching their best friend. Right? Certainly.

...they're not men of the world, actually.

Steban realizes he stands at a crossroad: they can either try to politely ignore this situation, clumsily make light of it, and allow awkwardness to permeate the space between them. Or they can come together, press against each other, unite in a glorious, hungry kiss.

Steban makes a choice.

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] say it again

LIs react when you say their name, but not the one you usually call them by. (They love it. SO much.)

Genre: Fluff, TW: suggestiveness

(Note: HC all the LADS men are at least bilingual/trilingual for work purposes or just bc they've lived long enough)

SYLUS

The rain hits the glass panels like a scatter of beads, the curtains of dense raindrops draping over the N109 zone late at night.

Seeing that it is a slow night for Sylus, you decide to try your idea out.

His glass of whiskey pauses halfway to his lips when you pronounce "Qín Chè" with perfect inflection.

The ice cubes clink as he slowly sets it down.

"Now that," he purrs, rising from his chair with a predatory grace, "is a dangerous thing to know."

In your next breath, he appears in a cloud of black-red mist, leaning down to you with a hand in his pocket.

"Did you research me that thoroughly? Or..." His breath ghosts your ear, "have you been hiding secrets?"

When you admit to practicing, he chuckles. "Even more dangerous. Now I'll have to teach you all the ways I want to hear my name...in private."

And so you learn, saying his name like a prayer while his lips graze over your neck and his arms keep you pressed close to him. Soon, your attempts are swallowed by his hungry kisses, and lost between stuttered breaths.

The next night, he makes you do it all over again.

_____

XAVIER

The way back home is quiet, crowds dwindling quickly after dinner hours in the dreary weather. It's still drizzling, but you're under a covered walkway for this stretch of the walk.

There's a comfortable silence between you and Xavier, and you decide to test something out.

"Shěn Xīnghuí," you say softly, watching the light reflect in his widened eyes like stars.

"You...know." The way he says it makes you realize this isn't just about language- you've spoken a name he thought he'd never hear you say in this lifetime.

He takes both your hands, holding them delicately as he moves closer to you. "Say it again," he whispers.

You repeat his name, louder this time. The night suddenly feels sacred as the syllables hang between you.

He doesn't speak, only brushes his thumb lightly over your knuckles as he looks at you the way a stargazer would observe a meteor shower.

Then you feel the slightest squeeze on your hands.

“Let's head back quickly,” he says, moving to keep a hand on your waist on the way home. He turns to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Now that I know you can say my name this way… I won't let you stop at just saying it twice.”

_____

ZAYNE

When you pass by the reception desk at the cardiology ward, You wave to the nurses on your way in and greet Zayne in a sing-song voice.

It's a phrase you practiced, over and over in front of a mirror.

“Lí Shēn, I'm here~ I'll just leave your lunchbox on the table,”

His gaze snaps to you.

The receptionist nurse freezes as their usually unflappable chief surgeon stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"...That pronunciation is very precise," he finally says, clicking his pen shut and taking some charts from the shelf.

Later, in his office, he has you trapped against the table. He's careful not to make noise, his steps slow and deliberate until the back of your legs are pressed up against the cool wooden surface.

"Who taught you that?" He asks quietly.

You blink. He seems almost too calm- like he's trying hard not to let something irritate him. Something is simmering in his gaze, but it's one of those times where you can't quite place your finger on what it is.

“Well- I remember knowing you had a different name, but I just never actually asked you about it even after all this time-” You explain, “It came up when I went over the university alumnae list-”

“Are you a personal investigator now?” He says, inching even closer to you.

“I was just… sorry, I shouldn't have called you by another name in the hospital,”

He exhales, the hint of a smile gracing his sharp features. “No- don't apologize, my love. I have no reason to be unhappy-” When he wraps his arms around you, the tension in your cautious stance melts into familiar warmth.

The slightly coarse fabric of his doctor's coat rubs against your face, but you snuggle closer.

“-However,” he continues, voice low, “My private investigator, I can't let you leave just yet.”

He keeps you locked in place with a hand around your waist. “I have five minutes until my ward round. If you're ever going to say my name like that again..." His lips brush yours, "you'll do it where I can properly appreciate it."

_____

RAFAYEL

The name you learned isn't Lemurian- it's something you came across in a luxury-lifestyle magazine interview done years ago that lay forgotten inside one of his storage crates. You had gone to your friend and asked them to help with the pronunciation, and practiced till you could say it naturally within conversations.

"Qí Yù! Is this a new piece of artwork?" You call across the studio.

"Yeah it- WHAT DID YOU JUST-?!" He leaps over the couch.

"Say that again," he demands, gripping your shoulders.

When you repeat it with a grin, he gasps.

"You've been holding out on me! Oh, you say my name so wonderfully," He gushes with a smile so dazzling it would put the glittering sunset ocean to shame.

"Wait." He squints. "Did Thomas teach you? I'LL KILL HIM-"

You have to physically restrain him from storming off, and his arm almost slips between your grip.

“Rafayel! No, it's just me- I read in an old interview that you had a different name and-”

“So you've been reading about me- when you can just ask me anything?” He pouts.

You blink. “How would I even begin to know you have different names?”

He puts his hands on his hips, seemingly acknowledging an impasse.

Then he sighs and opens his arms wide. “Come here, cutie,”

His scent envelopes you as you sink into his embrace, and he rubs circles into your back.

His voice is lower when he speaks, “I will take a break now- I need some inspiration from you.”

_____

CALEB

It's rare that you ever tag along to Caleb's gym sessions. Aside from schedules never aligning, you always knew his workout routine was rigorous and intense, so you wouldn't want to distract him.

Apart from that, he is also a huge source of distraction to you.

Right now, he's doing shoulder presses while seated on the gym bench, looking absolutely distracting. The stair master machine faces the mirror, giving you a clear view of him.

There's no way you can complete your usual routine, so you approach him.

Time to call it a day at the gym.

"Xià Yǐzhòu," you call out.

His dumbbells wobble mid-air.

"Holy-" He braces himself and rights his grip, bringing the dumbbells back down to rest them on his knees.

When he looks up, his expression does something complicated. "...Haven't heard that in a while," he murmurs, placing the dumbbells on the floor and rubbing his neck.

There's a vulnerability in his eyes you rarely see. “What happened to ‘Caleb’?” he asks.

When you explain your practice sessions, his boyish grin returns.

"Well damn, pips."

He tackles you into a hug that nearly has you topple over- but he catches you. With the way he's looking at you now, you're glad the gym is quiet. Even after being with him, he never fails to get your pulse soaring with his stupid, rugged charm.

“Ew, Caleb your sweat-”

“I don't recall you having a problem with that last night,” he murmurs, holding you closer.

“Caleb, I swear-” You jab at his sides with your fingers, scrambling to find an excuse to get him to stop teasing, “I'm sweaty too, it's gross.”

It almost works. He squirms, but his grip doesn't loosen in the slightest.

“Xià Yǐzhòu-”

He hums contentedly, patting your hair to placate you, "Thaaaat's more like it. Now gotta hear that every morning."

His whisper turns teasing, "And every night. Especially when you're begging me to-" You clap a hand over his mouth.

“Caleb!”

He kisses your palm, then gently takes your hand from his face.

“Call me the other name again and I'll let you go,”

_____

Edit: (note: their chinese names are so beautiful and poetic and suits their characterisation/personalities so well I cant even begin to describe how much I love ! !! And especially the exact words/characters chosen for their names too where my multilingual stans at!!! OK incoherent vent over thank u all for reading <3)

[starry-sophrosyne]

... @toadettely @sopping-wet-cat-wizard y'know, april fools is over, BUT...

"No, what am I saying- That's too mean, I can't do that-" "Fufufu~ But I can~"  (｀▽ ´) // "YOU-" (/｀ᗣ ´ )/

(also for reference bc GUESS WHO CAN PEN- XD /hj /lh /silly):

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(TW: blood/gore, death, car crash incident, graphic imagery)

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S&S: There is a world where Brent never meets Eevee. There is a world where he wakes up one morning, yawning as he rubs his eyes. He'd been somewhat exhausted by his gaming session with "Sofist" last night, not that it was unenjoyable. He gets ready for the day as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. It's all regular, for now, that is. Walking out of his apartment, he raises an eyebrow at the suspicious amount of cars stuck on the local road. Oh well, a crash of some kind? He shrugs and continues walking down the road. Ducking under some construction, he carefully avoids all the prying eyes and workers, taking his shortcut to the cafe. What he sees when he turns the corner, however? Well..

It's graphical, distraught to say the least. He can see the limb of somebody, splayed across the road in a pool of blood. He winces. Damn? They'd been sloppy setting up the perimeter apparently, blocking it from normal eye-witness view, but not from here. Either way, he couldn't make out too much between the ambulance and the police cars stationed in the intersection.

As for the authorities, he can make out them questioning certain people and speaking into their walkie talkies. Their faces are far away but filled with concern as they discuss with each other. Meanwhile, the paramedics tending to the body on the ground, and.. For some reason, he pauses. It's not in any of his good interests to watch this, to get involved with some random traffic incident of an unfortunate civilian, and yet? Something tugs at him, opposing his normal desire to stay out of conflict and general indifference/apathy. He doesn't know why, why this moment specifically?, but it doesn't.. feel.. weird. It's weirdly urging, instead bringing him to stop in his tracks. As he choicely watches the paramedics ready the body bag, he catches a glimpse of the poor man who had faced the consequences.

His hair was curly, coifs of coffee brown tinged with blood. His facial hair was the same color, and his gaze relaxed. His eyes were partially closed in a stereotypical thought of sleeping, with a glint from the sun revealing his hazed over green eyes, devoid of any brightness. What catches Brent's eye immediately, however, is his bright purple coat. Most of it is soaked with crimson gore, now a dark maroon, but even still. It's such a stand out, he can't help but wonder how the man even got hit in the first place.

After a few more seconds, the guided feeling seems to go away, and he turns his head away from the scene. (Unbeknownst to him, he'd been watching for, comparatively, far longer than a few seconds.) Best to move on, for whatever reason he felt compelled to watch EMTs deal with the body, almost as if he was making sure they would properly take care of him. It was weird, but whatever. He didn't have enough time to stay around and see him get sent off, realizing he was late for his shift. Despite his sudden spike of empathy, it was just another day, just with an unfortunate incident. He prayed for the man though, as he finally set foot onto regular sidewalk. May his soul, and whoever he is, rest in peace, for meeting such an untimely end.

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

Walking into the cafe, the door closed behind him with the bell's signature jingle. Vern's head shot up, his face twisted with a hint of concern as he rushed over to Brent, who'd barely placed his bag on the desk before Vern grabbed his shoulders, gripping them firmly and causing Brent to jolt a bit out of surprise.

"Brent! Oh my god, you scared me-" "?" "-I saw the crash nearby, and you- came in a few minutes later than you normally do, and- oh god I'd just thought the worst!" Vern could hardly control himself from his ramble, spilling out his emotions, but he paused when he noticed the rather amused look on Brent's face. Brent only chuckled at him, despite the severity of the situation/his anxiety. Vern gave him a dirty look, but let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance relief, glad to know his friend was okay.

As Vern let go of his shoulders, Brent starting unpacking stuff from his bag. Placing his log sheet and charger down in the little table within the break room, Vern asked:

"Why were you late anyways? You normally show up before I even get here. Did something.. actually happen while you were getting here?" He added tentatively.

"..." He paused, his hands tightening around his laptop, contemplating if it was worth it to tell Vern. About the man he'd seen, eyes hazed over in death, body dull and cold, hair stiff with dried blood. It was something in it of its own right, something that he wished he hadn't seen. But at the same time, the death of this random civilian weighed heavier than it should've in his heart. He didn't know why, but still, maybe it was the sight of his eyes; ones that pierced his soul, staring at him even after passing. They were so.. cold. Almost as if they were blaming, in hatred. His blood chilled, thinking about it all, and a heaviness set in the room. Oh. Man, he'd never felt this way before. He'd just witnessed death, hadn't he? How was he acting like this was all okay?

He held in a sigh, settling for a tight exhale as he shook his head, not looking up from his stuff. No, it was best not to trouble his more emotionally affected friend with his.. issues. Were he to tell Vern, he'd likely become more aggrieved than him. Even still, looking up and noticing Vern's still apprehensive gaze, he feigned a small smile; keeping it up even as he looked back down in the black expanses of his duffel bag, now empty. He couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "I'm serious dude, nothing happened. Don't worry about it."

"... Alright, if you say so." The air was thick with tension, the silence being left unbroken. Vern's footsteps were soft as they padded against the tiled floor, the door slowly creaking closed behind him. One last glance behind his shoulder, before he fully shut the door, putting on a smile to greet the guests that had entered the cafe. Meanwhile, the room had become dimmed sightly with the waning sunlight as the light from the cafe dissipated. Brent stared down once more, as if questioning the true morality behind what he'd seen. With a sigh, his shoulder slumped. Sitting down onto the rickety foldable chair, he put his head in his arms, on top of the table. He wasn't ready to go out. Not just yet. Not while the green eyes of someone haunted him. He couldn't just go and pretend everything was okay, even he had no damn idea why the death of some random stranger had messed him up so badly.

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

Vern found him struggling to think of positive messages to write atop his orders for the rest of the afternoon. Brent did not come out of the break room for a long time, and even once he did, he was silent as he worked. Nick didn't come in for coffee that day.

[whosmariaaa]

— another angsty/ fluffy drabble of this !

college! sukuna loved arguing with you. the entire reason why he’s so head over heels for you, is because you don’t take his shit. at all. that seriously turns a man on.

yes, he promised himself he’d never make you feel really bad ever again. but riling you up is just a little too funny to resist! especially when you fall for it each and every time, because you do kind of have a temper.

you two are in his dorm, arguing about something stupid again. sukuna’d long forgotten what the argument was even about. you secretly did too. now it was just purely because he wasn’t taking you serious.

“do i look like i’m fucking joking to you, sukuna?!” you yelled, seriously pissed off. that disgusting, stupid smirk of his was glued to his face, making your frustration a thousand times worse.

“calm your tits, sweetheart. you’re always so pissy all the time, i worry you’re going to pop a fucking blood vessel,” he mocked.

this jerk! you curled your fists into your hair, and honestly felt like pulling it all out. “what the hell is your problem, you asshole?” you snarled.

he huffed, “you’re my damn problem, y/n. you’re lucky you’re still my girl even with all those anger issues,” sukuna commented, his tone a little more harsh.

he still had a grin on his face, but his insult still hurt all the same. and you barely felt the tears building up in your eyes.

sukuna was a firm champion at getting on your nerves. he found it hilarious, his number one source of entertainment, but you were seriously contemplating pushing him out of the window.

you stared at him, eyes narrowed, nose slightly scrunched. it was quiet for a few seconds. no ordinary person would’ve noticed your eyes getting a little wet, but of course your boyfriend did.

“what? ya gonna fucking cry now over a joke, baby?” he replied meanly. “didn’t take you for a crybaby with all that attitude, hmm?” sukuna added.

okay, sure, he could’ve said worse things, but you still felt hurt. and also stupid for crying, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“whatever, man. go find yourself another girl that isn’t a crybaby then,” you sniffled. at that, sukuna paused, and his grin disappeared.

to him, you had a tendency to be dramatic, but this time, something in his stomach felt off.

you hurriedly grabbed your jacket and raced out the dorm, leaving him behind. you wiped your tears, and just… walked. not to your dorm, not to campus, just no where in particular. you were just strolling through tokyo, through the damn rain.

but after one hour of not replying to his calls or texts, or better yet, coming back, your boyfriend had started losing his shit.

sukuna was a crap boyfriend. he was a mess. but he loved you oh so dearly, even if he struggled to show you. and now he felt even worse knowing he made his poor girl cry on purpose.

the second sukuna knew you weren’t coming back for the night, he grabbed his bike and searched through tokyo’s streets for you.

he spotted you eventually. soaking wet because of the rain. hood up, eyes a little droopy. the sight made his heart feel heavy for some reason.

at the sound of sukuna’s bike, you turned your head slightly. “what?” you snapped.

“c’mere, sweetheart, let me take you home, aight?” he offered. you glared at him, and flipped him off.

“don’t be difficult, baby. i won’t be an ass anymore,” he replied.

you scoffed, “fuck outta here. leave me alone.”

sukuna surpressed a sigh at your response. “drop the fucking attitude, y/n, and get on the fucking bike,” he sneered.

you clicked your tongue, sighed… but complied. you were soaked to the bone, and honestly all you wanted to do was curl into sukuna’s arms again. not like you’d tell him.

the drive to the dorms was mostly silent. at stoplights, he’d rub your thigh with his thumb, but words weren’t really exchanged.

but, eventually sukuna cracked. “sorry, sweetheart. s’my fault for getting you so riled up,” he told you. you sniffled, “it’s okay.”

“it’s not. but i love you. and i know i’m fucking up every single chance i get from you, i fucking know. but i’m trying, okay?” he said. he grabbed your hand, and placed a kiss on it. you didn’t really reply, but sukuna knew you heard him. and for now that was enough.

safe to say, sukuna attempted to not get on your nerves as much anymore. i mean, he still did. everytime you’d yell at him or sass him, his pants would still tighten, but he started listening to you more. that man loved you more than anything, and more than anything did he want to show you.

──★˙🍓̟!! i hate this so much goodbye. idk it’s not bad but i feel like i could’ve done better. i’m sorry babe @fictionalmen4eva i tried my best, but thank you sosoosos much for the request!!!💗 i do feel like sukuna would be his girlfriend’s 1# ragebaiter just bc he can😣

— taglist ! @imlikeacoffeeconnoisseur @stars4you777 @totallygyomeiswife @sukubusss @seizecherry @xlilycoco @v1x3n @go-go-gadget-autism @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @paradisestarfishh @13-09-01 @misticsilver @whosmarjj @seellove @aquariusscollection @satorushousewife @rwirxles @anonnieghost @bitchpleaseeeeeeeeee-blog @iminloveweveryone @poopooindamouf @phisen @ryomku @erintaro @clp-84 @mastermasterlist1p1 @katsukiseyebrows @happy2delivur @jup1tersuccubus @nxcxllxsevens @realalpacorn @kxgumi @crankyarchives @itsjustisa @junitries @kodzukensworld @bnbaochauuu @tomsxslvt @flwerie @bwlol7 @szuuyl @grignardsreagent @yourangel04 🍓

[thegoldencontracts]

Culture Shock

—ꨄ︎ “Courting ritual? What are you talking about?”

Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Azul

Notes: courting ritual misunderstanding brainrotttt drabbles LESGOO i live for the idea of the non-human students doing what they think is obvious flirting but you blatantly misunderstanding them lmao

Leona:

—Lions show courtship by following around their intended mate, biting, and pawing. Male lions will roar to make clear their intent. Lion courtship is fairly extended

He roared, pawing at your neck. You’ve noticed this pattern in behavior for a while now. He’s been following you around, asking if you’ll be talking to anyone else any time soon.

“Good,” he’d replied when you gave him a resounding ‘no’. “I’ll have you all to myself then.

What did he want? With no verbal answers from him you’d only been left with baseless speculation.

He bit your arm. He- he bit your arm.

And he seemed proud.

“Huh?”

Rather than apologize, or declare his intentions, or whatever, Leona stuck out his own arm, staring at your with darkened, narrowed eyes.

“I think it’s time we finally stopped playin’ around,” he said, leaning his face towards your own. “Seal the deal. Say what we’re both thinking.”

You blinked at him, owlish and trying quite desperately to figure out his intentions.

“…What are we both thinking, Leona-san?”

And suddenly, the coy sort of demeanor vanished, replaced by a mixture of surprise and irritation.

After a while, he spoke up.

“You seriously didn’t know this entire time?” He grumbled. What was he talking about.

“That’s why I’m asking,” you replied. “Please explain.”

But instead of explaining, he just huffed, pouting ever so slightly as he tossed your phone onto the bed.

“Tch. Figure it out yourself,” he said.

You just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded.

What the fuck.

Ruggie:

—Male hyenas are known to repeatedly step towards and step away from their intended mate. They then present their side to be smelled. They may also cross their legs.

“I can’t believe I of all people have to tell you to take a break!” He said, pouting. But he didn’t seem too bothered, content to lounge around in your room.

Ruggie stepped towards you, arm extended.

And then he stepped forward again.

And then, again, he stepped back.

And forward again.

“What are you doing?”

“Forward, Kantokusei-Kun,” he huffed, grabbing your arm.

And then he stepped back onto the bed, crossing his legs as he sat.

“Don’t leave me hangin’ now! Join me,” he said, voice slightly breathy.

…Was this his way of getting you to rest! How considerate! Ruggie really was nicer than he let on.

You sat, and then he-

Stuck out his arm.

“Well?” He said, looking at you expectantly. “Are you gonna do it, or—?”

…

“What are you talking about?”

”What.” All of a sudden, Ruggie was beet red, half angry, half embarrassed. “You never told me you weren’t interested- don’t-“

And then he stood up, plastering a smile on his face.

“Sorry, but I got a bunch of errands to run and- ohlookit’sLeona-sanbye!”

“Wait-“

He bolted out of your room, leaving you far more confused than before.

Floyd:

—Morays often open their mouths wide to signal intent to court. They also partake in a sort of mating dance, wrapping their bodies around one another.

Floyd yawned. Again. He must’ve been getting awfully bored now, huh?

“Sorry, Floyd,” you said. “I know you don’t like hearing me talk, but-“

He yawned again, mouth opened wide to reveal both his sets of jaws.

“What gave you that idea, Koebi-Chan?” He said, giggling. “I love hearin’ you talk! Your ideas are way more interesting than anything all those stupid guppies have to offer.”

But once again, he yawned. Actions spoke louder than words, you concluded.

Seeing you look at him with uncertainty, he grinned.

“I really am serious about this, y’know,” he said. “You’ll stay interestin’ for a long time.”

And suddenly-

“Dance with me, Koebi-Chan.”

He circled around you, grabbing your arms and gracefully moving around you as if he were trying to wrap himself around your body. When you failed to react, he paused, staring at you.

“Well?” He asked.

You just sighed. He must’ve been trying really hard to stop you from rambling.

“If you’re bored, you can just say so.”

Immediately, Floyd recoiled, like he’d been doused in a bucket of water. Or maybe oil. He’d probably like being covered in water since he was a moray, after all.

“What kinda go-good small fry do you take me for?” He huffed, looking downright offended. “This is laaame. I’m leaving.”

And without an explanation, he stormed out, leaving you staring blankly from within the confines of your room, absolutely dumbfounded.

Azul:

—Octopodes often cause appearance and body language to display intent to court, changing color, showing vibrant patterns, and standing tall with their suckers extended. Males will often latch on from behind.

“You have my attention now. You’d best not waste it,” Azul murmured lowly, showing you-

His arm. It was purple. Why was it purple.

“Is- Is something wrong?” You asked. Azul stood tall, leaning in towards you. You were worried for his health by now. His arms kept changing color, and you were wondering if he was being repeatedly beat up or something.

“You know exactly what’s wrong,” he said. “I intended to wait for you to approach, but you’ve been wearing my patience terribly thin.”

What. Was he talking about. Did he want you to offer to take him to the doctor, or—?

“You’ve done your research, I’m certain,” he said. His arm turned another shade, this time a bright blue.

Suddenly, his arm wrapped around your back.

“Tell me how you feel, Kantokusei-San.”

You just stared.

“Do you want me to take you to the doctor’s office, oooor—“

“No need.” For a brief second, Azul looked disappointed, before he covered it up with a smile. “I apologize for acting so foolishly. Goodness, I don’t know what’s gotten into me!”

“What were you-“

“I’ll be going now. Please, think nothing of my sudden behavior! I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather, you see. What I did says nothing about my feelings, I assure you.”

And with that, he was gone.

…

Okay, but seriously, what was up with his arm?

[madamechrissy]

Eat that girl for lunch

Nsfw- Choso x fem reader- explicit- pussydrunk Choso lol

Choso could eat you out forever, he can't stop his mouth from latching on your clit, sucking on it and flicking it with the barbell of his tongue ring, making you cum all over his face as you yank on those dark pigtails. He has been at it so long, you can't think or function anymore, cunt throbbing around nothing as you whine out.

"P-please... get up here..." He's staring up at you with those violet eyes, lidded and pussy drunk.

"S-sorry baby, can't stop. Need more of you all over m'face. Once more?" He asks, slipping two long, thick fingers inside your pussy, you whine at it, so overstimulated, his other hand pressing into the plush of your thigh, dark painted nails pressing against your skin.

"Can't anymore, too much, I... Choso!" You're gushing as his fingers fuck into your gummy walls, he's hitting that spot he knows so well, exhaling and flicking that ring on your clit again, your hips buck up against his face.

"You taste too sweet. You're too pretty." He's cooing as his fingers squish into your soppy cunt, you hear how loud it is in the room, gushing all over his fingers now, dripping down those black rings he wears. "You're doing such a good job."

"Please, fuck me... please..." You give him the puppy eyes, but he gives them right back, slipping a third finger, your pussy sucks him up greedily.

"One more?" He's back down, you're yanking on his pigtails, whining out, Choso may seem so sweet, but he loses it when he licks you, when you cum all over his handsome face, covering him with your slick. "Another?"

You glare now. "Choso! Get your dick in me now."

"S-sorry baby!" He leans up now, lining his cock with your entrance, you're so overstimulated you're crying, he wipes them gently, full lips pouting. "I got carried away again."

You exhale in relief when he fills you finally, it's been an hour of this, you're kissing yourself off him, tasting the sweetness. "S'okay Cho, please..." He finally sinks into you, walls fluttering around his thick length, piercing on his cock hitting just the right spot as he entwines his fingers with your own.

"Better, baby?" You can't manage an answer, but Choso takes your eyes rolling back and thighs tightening on his hips as a yes.

Choso needed a drabble aha- Choso fic heerre: Keep This Lowkey

[shariasweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ angel girl

_._____ 𝒙 f.reader

wc ::: drabble length sharinote ::: contains dumbification and some other stuff! unprotected sex as well as mirror sex… also pet names (SLIGHT daddy kink… im so sorry) and overstimulation + squirting and maybs a little roughness. this isn’t proofread grrr :(

[porn no plot] just your boyfriend fucking you dumb and making you squirt 👻

'dumb baby...' your boyfriend relentlessly fucked into you from behind — his breath hot and fanning against you neck, fueling to the fire that was your arousal.

the mirror in front of you was just as foggy as your brain — your eyes clouded, and rolled back as you babbled incoherently. 'mmm...' a soft groan fell bubbling from between your lips.

'you're drooling everywhere, sweet girl...’ your boyfriend’s rough thrusts coming to a slow halt as his hands snaked around your body. ‘here… give daddy your chin, sweetheart.' his long slender fingers came crawling between the valley of your breasts and past your neck to firmly grip you cheeks.

'look at you, sweetheart. so, so pretty.' as he forced your face up and out of the sheets his lips met your own in a sloppy wet kiss — one filled with passion and desire. once more, his hips forcefully slammed against your ass — red from the friction as he buried himself deep within your sopping cunt.

'good girl...' his hand groped the swell of your breasts. as you were overwhelmed with pleasure, you could feel yourself slipping away. what you’d assumed to be your third, maybe fourth orgasm crept up on you. 'aht aht...’ he tutted in your ear. ‘want you to look... watch it, pretty girl.'

you could feel him roughly repositioning your face yet again to stare into your reflection.

he trailed kisses along your neck, chuckling warmly as he saw your eyes snap open in awe at the scene before you: your thighs littered in hickeys your lips puffy and swollen and your whole body quivering in absolute bliss.

'ah! s'too much... s'so deep!' you squirmed. he pressed on the bulge poking out from your lower abdomen. 'too deep? m'only right here... how about this?' harder. deeper. you suddenly hit the mattress, his grip on your waist faltering as he fucked into you with even more dedication... slamming you down and splitting you open for the umpteenth time on his cock... he continued bullying himself cozily into your cunt as he drilled further, and further within you velvety wet walls. ‘ffuck… always so tight aren’t you, baby?’

'ahw fuck, fuck mh!' gasping, your fingers knotted up in the sheets as you moaned uncontrollably… back arching far into the bed before he lifted you up yet again — his tip practically kissing your cervix.

‘shit! w-wait…’ the knot in your stomach began to wrap itself up. waves of pleasure threatening to fall and crash over you if he continued — which he did.

it only took a few more thrusts — each drag of his cock soothing your high as you’d finally came.

sharp thrust after sharp thrust… you took note of how he carefully overstimulated you. harshly rubbing your clit even after your orgasm. ‘shit! a-already… fuck… I already came.’ you pout, whining. ‘I know, just hold on, baby… need one more thing from you.’

‘unghhh!’ the male had lifted you up once more… your reflection not your own as you appeared completely ruined. ‘how’s it feel hm?’ your sore core ached — burning hot as you cried, leaning into his neck. ‘don’t hide.’

‘feels like im ‘gonna pee…’ you mumbled beneath your breath. he nodded. ‘good girl, let go f’me.’

another knot came forming in your tummy…

‘w-wait! ohmygodohmygod..!’ and clear liquid shot from between you legs. drenching the sheets and you and your boyfriend's thighs.

the two of you breathed heavily collapsing onto one another as he kissed your forehead. ‘angel girl…’ he purred. ‘did so good for me yeah?’

lee heuseng: yang jungwon: choi soobin: kang taehyun: jeong yunho: choi san: taesan: leehan: park gunwook: suh johnny: lee jeno: whoever else your little heart desires 🤍

[l13]

vacation!BRUCE WAYNE can’t stop fucking you<3

cw: NSFW 18+ MDNI !! f!reader, vaginal sex, raw sex, fingering (like for a sec tbh), creampie

wc: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble btw)

After a long day at the beach, you’re all sun-woozy- your body exhausted from the heat, limbs following your brain’s commands a liiittle too slowly. You’re sprawled out on the bed, the sound of the AC blowing almost lulling you to sleep.

You hear the shower turn off and make a mental note to yourself that you'll have to get up soon to shower next, once Bruce finishes up. See, he called dibs on the first shower, so you chose to lie on a clean towel on the bed, a hand over your eyes to block the late afternoon sun.

The bathroom door creaks open. You raise your arm slightly, blinking slowly up at Bruce “S'my turn?” you mumble, half asleep, and Bruce actually grins at you. He runs a hand through his wet hair, droplets falling everywhere, and you soak the sight up.

This man needed a vacation so badly. You were pretty sure you’ve never seen Bruce Wayne smiling so much in your life. And all it took was a little time off. Well, and fucking your brains out every change he got, apparently.

Still, it's safe to say that he was enjoying the getaway, and your heart clenches at how happy and relaxed he looks.

“Your turn.” he nods in reply, walking over to his suitcase with only a towel hanging over his waist, and you’re not tired enough so as not to peak at his ass when he walks by.

He glances back just in time to catch you staring, and chuckles under his breath when he turns to grab a pair of briefs from his bag, “Will I have to carry you there?”

You clear your throat and look away, slightly sheepish about being caught, and groan, stretching your arms above your head, “I’ll manage.. I think.”

You swear you only close your eyes for a second, but when you feel the bed dip next to you, and open them again, Bruce is already beside you wearing briefs and a white sleeveless shirt.

He smiles softly “Sorry, baby. Let me take this towel away, and you can sleep on the bed.” he says gently, tugging at the edge of the towel beneath you. You grab his forearm, shaking your head “No, no. I’ll go.” you murmur, eyelashes still feeling quite heavy. You felt as if you could still feel the heat of the sun wrapped around you like a blanket.

Bruce reaches for your jaw, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek softly, and he leans in to kiss you, almost as if he can’t help himself.

You hum into the kiss, your fingers automatically running through his hair as you lick across his bottom lip, making him groan lowly. You smirk when you pull away, and he licks his lips, leaning down again to kiss against the side of your mouth, “You’re salty.”

You gasp out a laugh, and push him away half-heartedly as you go to stand up, “Alright, you just convinced me to get a move on.”

“Now, wait a minute.” he chuckles, catching you by the waist and pulling you back down “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” he rubs his nose against yours and presses another kiss on your lips, making you sigh out “Bruce..”

He hums and slides his tongue against yours, pulling back with a lewd pop, “I can’t help myself around you, you know that?” he rasps against your neck, licking across your skin, and you tremble, your legs crossing over his waist in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Good. I can’t either.” you confess softly, your fingers still running through his black locks.

He groans, pressing another slow kiss on your lips, hand untying your bikini from your neck and pulling the cups down to reveal your pretty tits.

He pulls back to gaze down at your chest, and you expect his eyes to darken, but Bruce looks at your chest and barks out a laugh.

You still, jaw dropping “Excuse you-”

“I’m sorry baby, there’s some seaweed on you. Here let me-” 

You look down, and sure enough, your tits are covered in sand, with small pieces of seaweed clinging to your skin. You bury your face in your hands and groan. “Oh my God. How does it get everywhere?” you hear Bruce laugh as you feel him slowly peel the pieces of seaweed off you before flicking them off to the side.

You peek between your fingers to look at him. He’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the sides in the way you love, but he’s still fully concentrated on the task at hand. Biting back a lovesick smile, you wiggle your hips a bit, “And my bottoms are still on. Wanna bet on what else I'm going to find down there once I get in the shower?”

“Probably my cum dripping down your thighs.” Bruce deadpans, and your eyes widen.

He had such a way with words.

“Don’t look at me like that. You said it like I’m going to let you go anywhere before fucking you at least once.”

“Bruce!” you laugh, “I’m all salty and gross. I have sand everywhere and apparently- I’m growing a fucking kelp forest on my tits so-” you dust your chest with your hands, palms feeling prickly from the sand on your skin, and it flies around you, falling on clean sheets. You blink up at Bruce, half expecting him to be mad about the mess, but he’s too entranced by the soft bounce of your tits to care.

He licks his lips and shrugs, “Already told you,” he bends down to press his mouth over your nipple, and you gasp, arching your back and digging your nails in his arms. “Salty’s good.” he mumbles, giving you a wink before diving on to your other nipple.

You gasp, pulling at his hair softly, but you still find enough snark in you to mess with him some more, “So is that your final answer?”

He looks up at you, quirking an eyebrow in question, nipple still in his mouth.

“The bet.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, yet his lips tug up, “It is. Actually, I'm already sure that I'll win it.”

You scoff, smiling down at him, “Oh, really. How sure?”

Bruce pulls away from your chest with a lewd pop, and his eyes trace over your features, noting the glazed look in your eyes, the way you bite your lip right then, just from him looking at you.

He tongues at his cheek and grins, “Pretty sure.”

With that, he resumes pressing kisses all over your chest, moving down to your belly, “You’re so fucking beautiful, even with sand all over you. I’ve been dying to fuck you ever since we stepped foot outside this hotel room this morning, you know that? With that flimsy little swimsuit, how could I not?”

“Fuck.” you whimper, your eyes rolling back when he thumbs at your clit over your bikini bottoms, “Is that why you were scowling at me at the beach? Did you want to fuck me then too, baby?”

He groans, nodding along, “So much.” he plants a slow kiss on your lips before pulling back and sitting back on his heels. His eyes were half-lidded, as he stared at the outline of your pussy over your bikini. He kept teasing your clit with his thumb, rubbing up and down, then suddenly pressing in on it just a liittle too hard before rubbing again. It had you circling your hips back against him.

“Fucking look at you.”

Bruce lays a soft slap on the side of your thigh, and you moan softly, “Jus’ put it in baby, c’mon. Need it so bad.”

Bruce hums, pulling his briefs down and rubbing his palm over the head of his cock, before sliding it down to the base to hold it. He shimmies just a tad closer to you and presses the head against your pussy over your bikini.

You whine, feeling him press against you, and he hisses, pushing the head deeper and seeing the material dip only slightly, refusing him entry.

“Don’t tease.” you mumble,

He chuckles lowly, pushing his cock just a tad higher, nudging at your clit, and you whine “Bruuce,”

“Could play with this pussy forever, baby.” he murmurs and bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing as he grabs your bottoms and pulls them to the side. He groans low in his throat when he sees that you're dripping for him. “God- damn. You’re-”

“Soaked? ‘S cause I was thinking about you too. Wanted to see if you’d snap, drag me further down the beach just to fuck me right there, where anyone could see.” 

Bruce’s eyes flash and his gaze snaps up to yours, jaw popping. He snarls, grabbing your jaw, his thumb and pointer finger digging into your cheeks as he leans closer, “Maybe I should just fill this smart fucking mouth instead of fucking you, huh? Bet you’d still get off on that.” he grits out, and you whimper, rolling your hips so that the head of his cock now bumps against your bare pussy.

“No, no, please. Need you in my pussy.” your voice is tantalizing, borderline sinful, and his eyes flutter, a shiver running down his back, “No one sees you like this, except for me.” he says against the side of your mouth, and you pant, nodding multiple times.

He snakes his hand down your body, rubbing two fingers over your pussy lips, before slowly pushing them inside your cunt. “Yess..” you hiss, throwing your head back, and Bruce leans down to press various kisses along the shape of your throat. The thumb that was rubbing against your cheek, now tugs at your bottom lip softly.

He pushes his fingers in your cunt two, three times, before curling them and biting softly at the skin just above your collarbone, “Say it.”

You whimper, “No one. No one, only you-!”

Bruce pulls his fingers out and pushes his cock in you without warning. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as he fills you completely, his hand letting go of your jaw just to hold your throat, not tight though, never too tight.

He moans, feeling your warm, tight little pussy hug his cock immediately. His hips push forward even though he’s already filled you to the brim, and you whine, “Too much-”

“You can take it.” He huffs, pulling back just for a second to take his shirt off, before latching on you again, hands around your throat and tits, “You always do,” he mutters, before starting his unrelenting pace.

He wasn’t fast this time, no. He went slow, and hard, making sure you felt every fucking inch, every vein of his cock inside your pussy,  every time you felt like he’d bottomed out, he’d push just a liiittle more, his balls slapping against your ass, and you’d moan brokenly, your nails digging into his shoulders and making him hiss with every thrust.

Your hands clutch at the sheets on your sides when he leans back, using the string of your bikini top still around your middle as an anchor, holding it tightly in his fist, hips rolling against your repeatedly. He stares at you hungrily, mouth open and panting as his eyes roam up and down your body.

He was so fucking good to you, but you needed more, you need it harder, so you slap a hand against his ass, your nails digging in his skin as you pull him closer against you, pushing your hips back to meet his own.

His dark chuckle turns into a filthy moan, his head dropping back at the feel of your pussy tightening up around him, “Greedy fucking cunt. Look how she’s sucking me in honey, can barely pull out.” You lean up against your elbows, wanting to watch how your pussy takes him in, how it chases him when he pulls out.

You nod, entranced by the way your pussy stretches around his thick cock, “It’s cause you’re so good to me.” you mumble, “So fucking good, Bruce.”

You look up at him just in time to watch his Adam’s apple bob, and he looks down at you as well, half-lidded eyes dancing across your own. “Yeah?” he moans lowly, and it’s borderline pornographic.

And just when you thought you could cum just like this, just from seeing him so disheveled because of you, he drops his hand flat on your lower belly, thumb dropping on your clit to rub over it, and you tense immediately, hand dropping to claw at his forearm “Bruce-”

He snarls out your name, “Fucking cum for me.” his eyes drink in the way your hips jump, body twisting as you heave, and yet you still roll your hips against him, still push back when he pulls out.

Bruce picks up the pace, chasing after your orgasm like a man starved, and he leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your mouth. You thought you were kissing him back, but you were just panting and moaning against him while he soaked every sound up.

He pinches your clit suddenly, timing a hard thrust perfectly, and he stays there, pushing impossibly closer to you yet again. Your body goes taut immediately, and then the shaking begins. Your thighs tremble around his waist, your vision goes white, ears start to ring, and you can just about hear Bruce moaning and spitting out praises above you.

Pretty fucking girl. So fucking hot for me, shit. Cum for me, you can do it, I know you can. Thaaat’s it, that’s fucking it. Soaking my cock so well, baby. 

<3

“-etheart, you with me?”

Your eyelashes flutter, as you blink, letting out a satisfied whimper. You feel Bruce's hand pat your cheek softly, and you open your eyes to find him staring down at you, sweat dripping down his temple. He smiles, a dimple showing “Hey.”

You smile too, can't really help yourself, “Mm. You almost fucked me to death.” you mumble out, and he lets out a strained chuckle. “Wouldn't want that.”

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's still inside of you, still hard as a rock.

You mewl, instantly clumping down on him, and he grits his teeth, “Baby. You don't have to, you're tired-”

With a newfound strength, you prop yourself against the palm of your hands, and push Bruce back so that you're the one above him, straddling his thick thighs, his cock still snug inside you.

His hands immediately find purchase on your hips, and he squeezes your flesh in his hands appreciatively.

“I want it, I want you.” you mumble against his temple, after licking the sweat dripping down, and you can feel Bruce shiver under you, muttering a small “Fuck.”

Bruce doesn’t swear often, his patience keeping him from losing his cool, and seeing him lose it with you, gave you an extreme sense of satisfaction.

You wrap your hands around his neck, your tits getting squished against his pecs, when you tug him closer, and Bruce rubs his nose against yours, closing the gap between you.

You hum against his mouth, slowly starting to lift and lower your hips on his cock, and Bruce’s hands run up and down your back, later coming down to squeeze your ass to help guide you against him.

“You look so beautiful.” he pants against you, and one hand comes up to grab at your neck from behind, bracing you as he steals another kiss from your lips, this one deeper, more sensual. “As do you.” You whisper against spit-covered lips, your fingers threading through his hair. 

The rolling of your hips turns more aggressive, and after a while you’re practically bouncing on his cock, both you and Bruce moaning in harmony, both of you looking at where you’re joined, your cunt practically milking his cock, and the lewd squelching sound of you coming down on his cock spurs you on.

“Sweetheart go harder-”  Bruce trails off, his eyes rolling back when you reach down to cup his balls in your palm, squeezing softly.

“Like this? You ask breathlessly, your own eyes almost closing, but you force yourself to keep them open, to watch him fall apart beneath you, because of you.

“Yesss..” he grits through his teeth, pushing his hips upwards to meet your relentless pace eagerly. He grabs at your ass to lift you even higher, and now has to practically chase your pussy each time he thrusts up, but at least he successfully managed to shove his face against your tits. 

His groans and grunts, all while trailing open-mouthed kisses all over your chest.

The moment Bruce buries his head against your neck and lets out a whimper low in his throat, you know that he’s just about to go over the edge.

You can't keep control of your voice now either, moaning every time the head of his cock nudges deeper and deeper inside you “Cum for me, baby, please. Want it inside, dripping out of me like you promised.”

 “Will you do that for me, Bruce?”

He pants harshly, his breath hot against your collarbone as he grabs your hip and pushes you down, his left hand keeping your leg up with a hand on the back of your thigh, pushing it against your chest. He braces his right leg up and resumes the pace you’d set with bruising thrusts against your pretty cunt. “Anything. Fu- fuck. I’ll do anything you want.”

You almost sob, as this angle allows him to reach deeper inside you, and Bruce notices, “You’re gonna cum again.” he declares breathlessly, and you shake your head, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks “I can’t, I can’tttt-”

“You can.” he grits out, “Pussy’s pulsing around me like crazy, baby. You will.”

“Please.. Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Fuck- sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum. Gonna cum for you, gonna give you everything.”

“Yes, yes fffucking cum inside me, need it so bad, I need it sooo badd.” you’re a blabbering mess, your voice cracking every time Bruce thrusts back inside you, and he’s no better. 

He’s groaning, his eyebrows pinched together and his hand clutching your waist like his life depends on it, and he only lets you go to rub tight circles on your swollen little clit, watching you writhe and twitch against him once more. 

You scream, throwing your head back over the edge of the bed, and Bruce follows right behind, thrusting two-three more times before pushing his hips taut against you and staying there, all while letting out the hottest moans you’ve ever heard in your life as he cums inside of you “Take it, take every single drop.” he mutters, his eyes dropping to watch your cunt take everything he’s got, his finger still drawing lazy circles on your clit, making you whine.

“S too much-”

There’s a white ring decorating the base of his cock when Bruce pulls out slowly, and it makes his jaw tick, makes him want to bend you over and give you more of him.

You mewl when you feel him slip out, and mumble something that Bruce can’t make out. 

When you open your eyes after what feels like hours, Bruce is looking at you with pure adoration in his face, a sheepish pussy-drunk grin to match his gaze, and you make a mental note right then and there to force him to go on vacations more often.

(also yeah, he won that 'bet')

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